diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:23:55 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:23:55 -0700 |
| commit | 3295f7a4c2cb8daccc38af688f4da8bc786a8dd2 (patch) | |
| tree | 18822075a2943de38672609df89fc15b5f4e7e49 | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 4653-0.txt | 23316 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/4653.txt | 23713 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/4653.zip | bin | 0 -> 493800 bytes |
6 files changed, 47045 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/4653-0.txt b/4653-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3bdd979 --- /dev/null +++ b/4653-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,23316 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 4653 *** + +GOD'S GOOD MAN + +A Simple Love Story + +By MARIE CORELLI + +AUTHOR OF "THE TREASURE OF HEAVEN," "THELMA," "A ROMANCE OF TWO +WORLDS," "THE MASTER CHRISTIAN," ETC. + + + + + + TO + + THE LIVING ORIGINAL + + OF + + "THE REVEREND JOHN WALDEN" + + AND HIS WIFE + + THIS SIMPLE LOVE STORY + + IS + + AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED + +"THERE WAS A MAN SENT FROM GOD WHOSE NAME WAS JOHN." + NEW TESTAMENT + + + + + + +GOD'S GOOD MAN + + + + +I + + +It was May-time in England. + +The last breath of a long winter had blown its final farewell across +the hills,--the last frost had melted from the broad, low-lying +fields, relaxing its iron grip from the clods of rich, red-brown +earth which, now, soft and broken, were sprouting thick with the +young corn's tender green. It had been a hard, inclement season. +Many a time, since February onward, had the too-eagerly pushing buds +of trees and shrubs been nipped by cruel cold,--many a biting east +wind had withered the first pale green leaves of the lilac and the +hawthorn,--and the stormy caprices of a chill northern. Spring had +played havoc with all the dainty woodland blossoms that should, +according to the ancient 'Shepherd's Calendar' have been flowering +fully with the daffodils and primroses. But during the closing days +of April a sudden grateful warmth had set in,--Nature, the divine +goddess, seemed to awaken from long slumber and stretch out her arms +with a happy smile,--and when May morning dawned on the world, it +came as a vision of glory, robed in clear sunshine and girdled with +bluest skies. Birds broke into enraptured song,--young almond and +apple boughs quivered almost visibly every moment into pink and +white bloom,--cowslips and bluebells raised their heads from mossy +corners in the grass, and expressed their innocent thoughts in +sweetest odour--and in and through all things the glorious thrill, +the mysterious joy of renewed life, hope and love pulsated from the +Creator to His responsive creation. + +It was May-time;--a real 'old-fashioned' English May, such as +Spenser and Herrick sang of: + + "When all is yclad + With blossoms; the ground with grass, the woodes + With greene leaves; the bushes with blossoming buddes," + +and when whatever promise our existence yet holds for us, seems far +enough away to inspire ambition, yet close enough to encourage fair +dreams of fulfilment. To experience this glamour and witchery of the +flowering-time of the year, one must, perforce, be in the country. +For in the towns, the breath of Spring is foetid and feverish,--it +arouses sick longings and weary regrets, but scarcely any positive +ecstasy. The close, stuffy streets, the swarming people, the high +buildings and stacks of chimneys which only permit the narrowest +patches of sky to be visible, the incessant noise and movement, the +self-absorbed crowding and crushing,--all these things are so many +offences to Nature, and are as dead walls of obstacle set against +the revivifying and strengthening forces with which she endows her +freer children of the forest, field and mountain. Out on the wild +heathery moorland, in the heart of the woods, in the deep bosky +dells, where the pungent scent of moss and pine-boughs fills the air +with invigorating influences, or by the quiet rivers, flowing +peacefully under bending willows and past wide osier-beds, where the +kingfisher swoops down with the sun-ray and the timid moor-hen +paddles to and from her nest among the reeds,--in such haunts as +these, the advent of a warm and brilliant May is fraught with that +tremor of delight which gives birth to beauty, and concerning which +that ancient and picturesque chronicler, Sir Thomas Malory, writes +exultantly: "Like as May moneth flourisheth and flowerth in many +gardens, so in likewise let every man of worship flourish his heart +in this world!" + +There was a certain 'man of worship' in the world at the particular +time when this present record of life and love begins, who found +himself very well-disposed to 'flourish his heart' in the Maloryan +manner prescribed, when after many dark days of unseasonable cold +and general atmospheric depression, May at last came in rejoicing. +Seated under broad apple-boughs, which spread around him like a +canopy studded with rosy bud-jewels that shone glossy bright against +the rough dark-brown stems, he surveyed the smiling scenery of his +own garden with an air of satisfaction that was almost boyish, +though his years had run well past forty, and he was a parson to +boot. A gravely sedate demeanour would have seemed the more fitting +facial expression for his age and the generally accepted nature of +his calling,--a kind of deprecatory toleration of the sunshine as +part of the universal 'vanity' of mundane things,--or a +condescending consciousness of the bursting apple-blossoms within +his reach as a kind of inferior earthy circumstance which could +neither be altered nor avoided. + +The Reverend John Walden, however, was one of those rarely gifted +individuals who cannot assume an aspect which is foreign to +temperament. He was of a cheerful, even sanguine disposition, and +his countenance faithfully reflected the ordinary bent of his +humour. Seeing him at a distance, the casual observer would at once +have judged him to be either an athlete or an ascetic. There was no +superfluous flesh about him; he was tall and muscular, with well- +knit limbs, broad shoulders, and a head altogether lacking in the +humble or conciliatory 'droop' which all worldly-wise parsons +cultivate for the benefit of their rich patrons. It was a +distinctively proud head,--almost aggressive,--indicative of strong +character and self-reliance, well-poised on a full throat, and set +off by a considerable quantity of dark brown hair which was +refractory in brushing, inclined to uncanonical curls, and +plentifully dashed with grey. A broad forehead, deeply-set, dark- +blue eyes, a straight and very prominent nose, a strong jaw and +obstinate chin,--a firmly moulded mouth, round which many a sweet +and tender thought had drawn kindly little lines of gentle smiling +that were scarcely hidden by the silver-brown moustache,--such, +briefly, was the appearance of one, who though only a country +clergyman, of whom the great world knew nothing, was the living +representative of more powerful authority to his little 'cure of +souls' than either the bishop of the diocese, or the King in all his +majesty. + +He was the sole owner of one of the smallest 'livings' in England,-- +an obscure, deeply-hidden, but perfectly unspoilt and beautiful +relic of mediaeval days, situated in one of the loveliest of +woodland counties, and known as the village of St. Rest, sometimes +called 'St. Est.' Until quite lately there had been considerable +doubt as to the origin of this name, and the correct manner of its +pronouncement. Some said it should be, 'St. East,' because, right +across the purple moorland and beyond the line of blue hills where +the sun rose, there stretched the sea, miles away and invisible, it +is true, but nevertheless asserting its salty savour in every breath +of wind that blew across the tufted pines. 'St. East,' therefore, +said certain rural sages, was the real name of the village, because +it faced the sea towards the east. Others, however, declared that +the name was derived from the memory of some early Norman church on +the banks of the peaceful river that wound its slow clear length in +pellucid silver ribbons of light round and about the clover fields +and high banks fringed with wild rose and snowy thorn, and that it +should, therefore, be 'St. Rest,' or better still, 'The Saint's +Rest.' This latter theory had recently received strong confirmation +by an unexpected witness to the past,--as will presently be duly +seen and attested. + +But St. Rest, or St. Est, whichever name rightly belonged to it, was +in itself so insignificant as a 'benefice,' that its present rector, +vicar, priest and patron had bought it for himself, through the good +offices of a friend, in the days when such purchases were possible, +and for some ten years had been supreme Dictator of his tiny kingdom +and limited people. The church was his,--especially his, since he +had restored it entirely at his own expense,--the rectory, a lop- +sided, half-timbered house, built in the fifteenth century, was +his,--the garden, full of flowering shrubs, carelessly planted and +allowed to flourish at their own wild will, was his,--the ten acres +of pasture-land that spread in green luxuriance round and about his +dwelling were his,--and, best of all, the orchard, containing some +five acres planted with the choicest apples, cherries, plums and +pears, and bearing against its long, high southern wall the finest +peaches and nectarines in the county, was his also. He had, in fact, +everything that the heart of a man, especially the heart of a +clergyman, could desire, except a wife,--and that commodity had been +offered to him from many quarters in various delicate and diplomatic +ways,--only to be as delicately and diplomatically rejected. + +And truly there seemed no need for any change in his condition. He +had gone on so far in life,--'so far!' he would occasionally remind +himself, with a little smile and sigh,--that a more or less solitary +habit had, by long familiarity, become pleasant. Actual loneliness +he had never experienced, because it was not in his nature to feel +lonely. His well-balanced intellect had the brilliant quality of a +finely-cut diamond, bearing many facets, and reflecting all the hues +of life in light and colour; thus it quite naturally happened that +most things, even ordinary and common things, interested him. He was +a great lover of books, and, to a moderate extent, a collector of +rare editions; he also had a passion for archaeology, wherein he was +sustained by a certain poetic insight of which he was himself +unconscious. The ordinary archaeologist is generally a mere Dry-as- +Dust, who plays with the bones of the past as Shakespeare's Juliet +fancied she might play with her forefathers' joints, and who eschews +all use of the imaginative instinct as though it were some deadly +evil. Whereas, it truly needs a very powerful imaginative lens to +peer down into the recesses of bygone civilisations, and re-people +the ruined haunts of dead men with their shadowy ghosts of learning, +art, enterprise, or ambition. + +To use the innermost eyes of his soul in such looking backward down +the stream of Time, as well as in looking forward to that 'crystal +sea' of the unknown Future, flowing round the Great White Throne +whence the river of life proceeds, was a favourite mental occupation +with John Walden. He loved antiquarian research, and all such +scientific problems as involve abstruse study and complex +calculation,--but equally he loved the simplest flower and the most +ordinary village tale of sorrow or mirth recounted to him by any one +of his unlessoned parishioners. He gave himself such change of air +and scene as he thought he required, by taking long swinging walks +about the country, and found sufficient relaxation in gardening, a +science in which he displayed considerable skill. No one in all the +neighbourhood could match his roses, or offer anything to compare +with the purple and white masses of violets which, quite early in +January came out under his glass frames not only perfect in shape +and colour, but full of the real 'English' violet fragrance, a +benediction of sweetness which somehow seems to be entirely withheld +from the French and Russian blooms. For the rest, he was physically +sound and morally healthy, and lived, as it were, on the straight +line from earth to heaven, beginning each day as if it were his +first life-opportunity, and ending it soberly and with prayer, as +though it were his last. + +To such a mind and temperament as his, the influences of Nature, the +sublime laws of the Universe, and the environment of existence, must +needs move in circles of harmonious unity, making loveliness out of +commonness, and poetry out of prose. The devotee of what is +mistakenly called 'pleasure,'--enervated or satiated with the sickly +moral exhalations of a corrupt society,--would be quite at a loss to +understand what possible enjoyment could be obtained by sitting +placidly under an apple-tree with a well-thumbed volume of the +wisdom of the inspired pagan Slave, Epictetus, in the hand, and the +eyes fixed, not on any printed page, but on a spray of warmly- +blushing almond blossom, where a well-fed thrush, ruffling its +softly speckled breast, was singing a wild strophe concerning its +mate, which, could human skill have languaged its meaning, might +have given ideas to a nation's laureate. Yet John Walden found +unalloyed happiness in this apparently vague and vacant way. There +was an acute sense of joy for him in the repeated sweetness of the +thrush's warbling,--the light breeze, stirring through a great bush +of early flowering lilac near the edge of the lawn, sent out a wave +of odour which tingled through his sensitive blood like wine,--the +sunlight was warm and comforting, and altogether there seemed +nothing wrong with the world, particularly as the morning's +newspapers had not yet come in. With them would probably arrive the +sad savour of human mischief and muddle, but till these daily morbid +records made their appearance, May-day might be accepted as God made +it and gave it,--a gift unalloyed, pure, bright and calm, with not a +shadow on its lovely face of Spring. The Stoic spirit of Epictetus +himself had even seemed to join in the general delight of nature, +for Walden held the book half open at a page whereon these words +were written: + +"Had we understanding thereof, would any other thing better beseem +us than to hymn the Divine Being and laud Him and rehearse His +gracious deeds? These things it were fitting every man should sing, +and to chant the greatest and divinest hymns for this, that He has +given us the power to observe and consider His works, and a Way +wherein to walk. If I were a nightingale, I would do after the +manner of a nightingale; if a swan, after that of a swan. But now I +am a reasoning creature, and it behooves me to sing the praise of +God; this is my task, and this I do, nor as long as it is granted +me, will I ever abandon this post. And you, too, I summon to join me +in the same song." + +"A wonderfully 'advanced' Christian way of looking at life, for a +pagan slave of the time of Nero!" thought Walden, as his eyes +wandered from the thrush on the almond tree, back to the volume in +his hand,--"With all our teaching and preaching, we can hardly do +better. I wonder---" + +Here his mind became altogether distracted from classic lore, by the +appearance of a very unclassic boy, clad in a suit of brown +corduroys and wearing hob-nailed boots a couple of sizes too large +for him, who, coming suddenly out from a box-tree alley behind the +gabled corner of the rectory, shuffled to the extreme verge of the +lawn and stopped there, pulling his cap off, and treading on his own +toes from left to right, and from right to left in a state of +sheepish hesitancy. + +"Come along,--come along! Don't stand there, Bob Keeley!" And Walden +rose, placing Epictetus on the seat he vacated--"What is it?" + +Bob Keeley set his hob-nailed feet on the velvety lawn with gingerly +precaution, and advancing cap in hand, produced a letter, slightly +grimed by his thumb and finger. + +"From Sir Morton, please sir! Hurgent, 'e sez." + +Walden took the missive, small and neatly folded, and bearing the +words 'Badsworth Hall' stamped in gold at the back of the envelope. +Opening it, he read: + +"Sir Morton Pippitt presents his compliments to the Reverend John +Walden, and having a party of distinguished guests staying with him +at the Hall, will be glad to know at what day and hour this week he +can make a visit of inspection to the church with his friends." + +A slight tinge of colour overspread Walden's face. Presently he +smiled, and tearing up the note leisurely, put the fragments into +one of his large loose coat pockets, for to scatter a shred of paper +on his lawn or garden paths was an offence which neither he nor any +of those he employed ever committed. + +"How is your mother, Bob?" he then said, approaching the stumpy +urchin, who stood respectfully watching him and awaiting his +pleasure. + +"Please sir, she's all right, but she coughs 'orful!" + +"Coughs 'orful, does she?" repeated the Reverend John, musingly; +"Ah, that is bad!--I am sorry! We must--let me think!--yes, Bob, we +must see what we can do for her--eh?" + +"Yes, sir," replied Bob meekly, turning his cap round and round and +wondering what 'Passon' was thinking about to have such a 'funny +look' in his eyes. + +"Yes!" repeated Walden, cheerfully, "We must see what we can do for +her! My compliments to Sir Morton Pippitt, Bob, and say I will +write." + +"Nothink else, sir?" + +"Nothing--or as you put it, Bob, 'nothink else'! I wish you would +remember, my dear boy,"--and here he laid his firm, well-shaped hand +protectingly on the small brown corduroy shoulder,--"that the word +'nothing' does not terminate in a 'k.' If you refer to your +spelling-book, I am sure you will see that I am right. The +Educational authorities would not approve of your pronunciation, +Bob, and I am endeavouring to save you future trouble with the +Government. By the way, did Sir Morton Pippitt give you anything for +bringing his note to me?" + +"Sed he would when I got back, sir." + +"Said he would when you got back? Well,--I have my doubts, Bob,--I +do not think he will. And the labourer being worthy of his hire, +here is sixpence, which, if you like to do a sum on your slate, you +will find is at the rate of one penny per mile. When you are a +working man, you will understand the strict justice of my payment. +It is three miles from Badsworth Hall and three back again,--and now +I come to think of it, what were you doing up at Badsworth?" + +Bob Keeley grinned from ear to ear. + +"Me an' Kitty Spruce went up on spec with a Maypole early, sir!" + +John Walden smiled. It was May morning,--of course it was!--and in +the village of St. Rest the old traditional customs of May Day were +still kept up, though in the county town of Riversford, only seven +miles away, they were forgotten, or if remembered at all, were only +used as an excuse for drinking and vulgar horse-play. + +"You and Kitty Spruce went up on spec? Very enterprising of you +both, I am sure! And did you make anything out of it?" + +"No, sir,--there ain't no ladies there, 'cept Miss Tabitha,--onny +some London gents,--and Sir Morton, 'e flew into an orful passion-- +like 'e do, sir,--an' told us to leave off singin' and git out,-- +'Git off my ground,' he 'ollers--'Git off!'--then jest as we was a +gittin' off, he cools down suddint like, an' 'e sez, sez 'e: 'Take a +note to the dam passon for me, an' bring a harnser, an' I'll give +yer somethink when yer gits back.' An' all the gents was a-sittin' +at breakfast, with the winders wide open an' the smell of 'am an' +eggs comin' through strong, an' they larfed fit to split +theirselves, an' one on 'em tried to kiss Kitty Spruce, an' she +spanked his face for 'im!" + +The narration of this remarkable incident, spoken with breathless +rapidity in a burst of confidence, seemed to cause the relief +supposed to be obtained by a penitent in the confessional, and to +lift a weight off Bob Keeley's mind. The smile deepened on the +'Passon's' face, and for a moment he had some difficulty to control +an outbreak of laughter, but recollecting the possibly demoralising +effect it might have on the more youthful members of the community, +if he, the spiritual director of the parish, were reported to have +laughed at the pugnacious conduct of the valiant Kitty Spruce, he +controlled himself, and assumed a tolerantly serious air. + +"That will do, Bob!--that will do! You must learn not to repeat all +you hear, especially such objectionable words as may occasionally be +used by a--a--a gentleman of Sir Morton Pippitt's high standing." + +And here he squared his shoulders and looked severely down an the +abashed Keeley. Anon he unbent himself somewhat and his eyes +twinkled with kindly humour: "Why didn't you bring the Maypole +here?" he enquired; "I suppose you thought it would not be as good a +'spec as Badsworth Hall and the London gents--eh?" + +Bob Keeley opened his round eyes very wide. + +"We be all comin' 'ere, sir!" he burst out: "All on us--ever so many +on us! But we reckoned to make a round of the village first and see +how we took on, and finish up wi' you, sir! Kitty Spruce she be a- +keepin' her best ribbin for comin' 'ere--we be all a-comin' 'fore +twelve!" + +Walden smiled. + +"Good! I shall expect you! And mind you don't all sing out of tune +when you do come. If you commit such an offence, I shall--let me +see!--I shall make mincemeat of you!--I shall indeed! Positive +mincemeat!--and bottle you up in jars for Christmas!" And he nodded +with the ferociously bland air of the giant in a fairy tale, whose +particular humour is the devouring of small children. "Now you had +better get back to Badsworth Hall with my message. Do you remember +it? My compliments to Sir Morton Pippitt, and I will write." + +He turned away, and Bob Keeley made as rapid a departure as was +consistent with the deep respect he felt for the 'Passon,' having +extracted a promise from the butcher boy of the village, who was a +friend of his, that if he were 'quick about it,' he would get a +drive up to Badsworth and back again in the butcher's cart going +there for orders, instead of tramping it. + +The Reverend John, meanwhile, strolled down one of the many winding +garden paths, past clusters of daffodils, narcissi and primroses, +into a favourite corner which he called the 'Wilderness,' because it +was left by his orders in a more or less untrimmed, untrained +condition of luxuriantly natural growth. Here the syringa, a name +sometimes given by horticultural pedants to the lilac, for no reason +at all except to create confusion in the innocent minds of amateur +growers, was opening its white 'mock orange' blossoms, and a mass of +flowering aconites spread out before him like a carpet of woven +gold. Here, too, tufts of bluebells peeked forth from behind the +moss-grown stems of several ancient oaks and elms, and purple +pansies bordered the edge of the grass. A fine old wistaria grown in +tree-form, formed a natural arch of entry to this shady retreat, and +its flowers were just now in their full beauty, hanging in a +magnificent profusion of pale mauve, grapelike bunches from the +leafless stems. Many roses, of the climbing or 'rambling' kind, were +planted here, and John Walden's quick eye soon perceived where a +long green shoot of one of those was loose and waving in the wind to +its own possible detriment. He felt in his pockets for a bit of +roffia or twine to tie up the straying stem,--he was very seldom +without something of the kind for such emergencies, but this time he +only groped among the fragments of Sir Morton Pippitt's note and +found nothing useful. Stepping out on the path again, he looked +about him and caught a glimpse of a stooping, bulky form in weather- +beaten garments, planting something in one of the borders at a +little distance. + +"Bainton!" he called. + +The figure slowly raised itself, and as slowly turned its head. + +"Sir!" + +"Just come here and tie this rose up, will you?" + +The individual addressed approached at a very deliberate pace, +dragging out some entangled roffia from his pocket as he came and +severing it into lengths with his teeth. Walden partly prepared his +task for him by holding up the rose branch in the way it should go, +and on his arrival assisted him in the business of securing it to +the knotty bough from which it had fallen. + +"That looks better!" he remarked approvingly, as he stepped back and +surveyed it. "You might do this one at the same time while you are +about it, Bainton." + +And he pointed to a network of 'Crimson rambler' rose-stems which +had blown loose from their moorings and were lying across the grass. + +"This place wants a reg'ler clean out," remarked Bainton then, in +accents of deep disdain, as he stooped to gather up the refractory +branches: "It beats me altogether, Passon, to know what you wants +wi' a forcin' bed for weeds an' stuff in the middle of a decent +garden. That old Wistaria Sinyens (Sinensis) is the only thing here +that is worth keeping. Ah! Y'are a precious sight, y'are!" he +continued, apostrophising the 'rambler' branches--"For all yer green +buds ye ain't a-goin' to do much this year! All sham an' 'umbug, +y'are!--all leaf an' shoot an' no flower,--like a great many people +I knows on--ah!--an' not so far from this village neither! I'd clear +it all out if I was you, Passon,--I would reely now!" + +Walden laughed. + +"Don't open the old argument, Bainton!" he said good-humouredly; "We +have talked of this before. I like a bit of wild Nature sometimes." + +"Wild natur!" echoed Bainton. "Seems to me natur allus wants a bit +of a wash an' brush up 'fore she sits down to her master's table;-- +an' who's 'er master? Man! She's jest like a child comin' out of a +play in the woods, an' 'er 'air's all blown, an' 'er nails is all +dirty. That's natur! Trim 'er up an' curl 'er 'air an' she's worth +looking at. Natur! Lor', Passon, if ye likes wild natur ye ain't got +no call to keep a gard'ner. But if ye pays me an' keeps me, ye must +'spect me to do my duty. Wherefore I sez: why not 'ave this 'ere +musty-fusty place, a reg'ler breedin' 'ole for hinsects, wopses, +'ornits, snails an' green caterpillars--ah! an' I shouldn't wonder +if potato-fly got amongst 'em, too!--why not, I say, have it cleaned +out?" + +"I like it as it is," responded Walden with cheerful +imperturbability, and a smile at the thick-set obstinate-looking +figure of his 'head man about the place' as Bainton loved to be +called. "Have you planted out my phloxes?" + +"Planted 'em out every one," was the reply; "Likewhich the Delphy +Inums. An' I've put enough sweet peas in to supply Covint Garden +market, bearin' in mind as 'ow you sed you couldn't have enough on +'em. Sir Morton Pippitt's Lunnon valet came along while I was a- +doin' of it, an' 'e peers over the 'edge an' 'e sez, sez 'e: +'Weedin' corn, are yer?' 'No, ye gowk,' sez I! 'Ever seen corn at +all 'cept in a bin? Mixed wi' thistles, mebbe?' An' then he used a +bit of 'is master's or'nary language, which as ye knows, Passon, is +chice--partic'ler chice. 'Evil communications c'rupts good manners' +even in a valet wot 'as no more to do than wash an' comb a man like +a 'oss, an' pocket fifty pun a year for keepin' of 'is haristocratic +master clean. Lor'!--what a wurrld it is!--what a wurrld!" + +He had by this time tied up the 'Crimson rambler' in orderly +fashion, and the Reverend John, stroking his moustache to hide a +smile, proceeded to issue various orders according to his usual +daily custom. + +"Don't forget to plant some mignonette in the west border, Bainton. +Not the giant kind,--the odour of the large blooms is rough and +coarse compared with that of the smaller variety. Put plenty of the +'common stuff' in,--such mignonette as our grandmothers grew in +their gardens, before you Latin-loving horticultural wise-acres +began to try for size rather than sweetness." + +Bainton drew himself up with a quaint assumption of dignity, and by +lifting his head a little more, showed his countenance fully,--a +countenance which, though weather-worn and deeply furrowed, was a +distinctly intelligent one, shrewd and thoughtful, with sundry +little curves of humour lighting up its native expression of +saturnine sedateness. + +"I suppose y'are alludin' to the F.R.H.'s, Passon," he said; "They +all loves Latin, as cats loves milk; howsomever, they never knows +'ow to pronounce it. Likewhich myself not bein' a F.R.H. nor likely +to be, I'm bound to confess I dabbles in it a bit,--though there's a +chap wot I gets cheap shrubs of, his Latin's worse nor mine, an' +'e's got all the three letters after 'is name. 'Ow did 'e get 'em? +By reason of competition in the Chrysanthum Show. Lor'! Henny fool +can grow ye a chrysanthum as big as a cabbage, if that's yer fancy,- +-that ain't scientific gard'nin'! An' as for the mignonette, I +reckon to agree wi' ye, Passon--the size ain't the sweetness, +likewhich when I married, I married a small lass, for sez I: 'Little +to carry, less to keep!' An' that's true enough, though she's gained +in breadth, Lor' love 'er!--wot she never 'ad in heighth. As I was +a-sayin', the chap wot I gets shrubs of, reels off 'is Latin like +chollops of mud off a garden scraper; but 'e don't understand it +while 'e sez it. Jes' for show, bless ye! It all goes down wi' Sir +Morton Pippitt, though, for 'e sez, sez 'e: 'MY cabbages are the +prize vegetable, grown by Mr. Smogorton of Worcester, F.R.H.' 'E's +got it in 'is Catlog! Hor!--hor!--hor! Passon, a bit o' Latin do go +down wi' some folks in the gard'nin' line--it do reely now!" + +"Talking of Sir Morton Pippitt," said Walden, disregarding his +gardener's garrulity, "It seems he has visitors up at the Hall." + +"'E 'as so," returned Bainton; "Reg'ler weedy waifs an' strays o' +'umanity, if one may go by out'ard appearance; not a single firm, +well-put-down leg among 'em. Mos'ly 'lords' and 'sirs.' Bein' so +jes' lately knighted for buildin' a 'ospital at Riversford, out of +the proceeds o' bone meltin' into buttons, Sir Morton couldn't a' +course, be expected to put up wi' a plain 'mister' takin' food wi' +'im." + +"Well, well,--whoever they are, they want to see the church." + +"Seems to me a sight o' folks wants to see the church since ye spent +so much money on it, Passon," said Bainton somewhat resentfully; +"There oughter be a charge made for entry." + +Walden smiled thoughtfully; but there was a small line of vexation +on his brow. + +"They want to see the church," he repeated, "Or rather Sir Morton +wants them to 'inspect' the church;"--and then his smile expanded +and became a soft mellow laugh; "What a pompous old fellow it is! +One would almost think he had restored the church himself, and not +only restored it, but built it altogether and endowed it!" He turned +to go, then suddenly bethought himself of other gardening matters,-- +"Bainton, that bare corner near the house must be filled with +clematis. The plants are just ready to bed out. And look to the +geraniums in the front border. By the way, do you see that straight +line along the wall there,--where I am pointing?" + +"Yes, sir!" dutifully rejoined Bainton, shading his eyes from the +strong sun with one grimy hand. + +"Well, plant nothing but hollyhocks there,--as many as you can cram +in. We must have a blaze of colour to contrast with those dark yews. +See to the jessamine and passion-flowers by the porch; and there is +a 'Gloire' rose near the drawing-room window that wants cutting back +a bit." He moved a step or two, then again turned: "I shall want you +later on in the orchard,--the grass there needs attending to." + +A slow grin pervaded Bainton's countenance. + +"Ye minds me of the 'Oly Scripter, Passon, ye does reely now!" he +said--"Wi' all yer different orders an' idees, y'are behavin' to me +like the very moral o' the livin' Wurrd!" + +Walden looked amused. + +"How do you make that out?" + +"Easy enough, sir,--'The Scripter moveth us in sun'ry places'! Hor!- +hor!-hor!--"and Bainton burst into a hoarse chuckle of mirth, +entirely delighted with his own witticism, and walked off, not +waiting to see whether its effect on his master was one of offence +or appreciation. He was pretty sure of his ground, however, for he +left John Walden laughing, a laugh that irradiated his face with +some of the sunshine stored up in his mind. And the sparkle of mirth +still lingered in his eyes as, crossing the lawn and passing the +seat where the volume of Epictetus lay, now gratuitously decorated +by a couple of pale pink shell-like petals dropped from the apple- +blossoms above it, he entered his house, and proceeding to his study +sat down and wrote the following brief epistle: + +"The Reverend John Walden presents his compliments to Sir Morton +Pippitt, and in reply to his note begs to say that, as the church is +always open and free, Sir Morton and his friends can 'inspect' it at +any time provided no service is in progress." + +Putting this in an envelope, he sealed and stamped it. It should go +by post, and Sir Morton would receive it next morning. There was no +need for a 'special messenger,' either in the person of Bob Keeley, +or in the authorised Puck of the Post Office Messenger-service. + +"For there is not the slightest hurry," he said to himself: "It will +not hurt Sir Morton to be kept waiting. On the contrary, it will do +him good. He had it all his own way in this parish before I came,-- +but now for the past ten years he has known what it is to 'kick +against the pricks' of legitimate Church authority. Legitimate +Church authority is a fine thing! Half the Churchmen in the world +don't use it, and a goodly portion of the other half misuse it. But +when you've got a bumptious, purse-proud, self-satisfied old county +snob like Sir Morton Pippitt to deal with, the pressure of the iron +hand should be distinctly exercised under the velvet glove!" + +He laughed heartily, throwing back his head with a sense of +enjoyment in his laughter. Then, rising from his desk, he turned +towards the wide latticed doors of his study, which opened into the +garden, and looked out dreamily, as though looking across the world +and far beyond it. The sweet mixed warbling of birds, the thousand +indistinguishable odours of flowers, made the air both fragrant and +musical. The glorious sunshine, the clear blue sky, the rustling of +the young leaves, the whispering swish of the warm wind through the +shrubberies,--all these influences entered the mind and soul of the +man and aroused a keen joy which almost touched the verge of +sadness. Life pulsated about him in such waves of creative passion, +that his own heart throbbed uneasily with Nature's warm +restlessness; and the unanswerable query which, in spite of his high +and spiritual faith had often troubled him, came back again +hauntingly to his mind,--"Why should Life be made so beautiful only +to end in Death?" + +This was the Shadow that hung over all things; this was the one +darkness he and others of his calling were commissioned to transfuse +into light,--this was the one dismal end for all poor human +creatures which he, as a minister of the Gospel was bound to try and +represent as not an End but a Beginning,--and his soul was moved to +profound love and pity as he raised his eyes to the serene heavens +and asked himself: "What compensation can all the most eloquent +teaching and preaching make to men for the loss of the mere +sunshine? Can the vision of a world beyond the grave satisfy the +heart so much as this one perfect morning of May!" + +An involuntary sigh escaped him. The beating wings of a swallow +flying from its nest under the old gabled eaves above him flashed a +reflex of quivering light against his eyes; and away in the wide +meadow beyond, where the happy cattle wandered up to their fetlocks +in cowslips and lush grass, the cuckoo called with cheerful +persistence. One of old Chaucer's quaintly worded legends came to +his mind,--telling how the courtly knight Arcite, + + "Is risen, and looketh on the merrie daye + All for to do his observance to Maye,-- + And to the grove of which that I you told, + By aventure his way he gan to hold + To maken him a garland of the greves, + Were it of woodbind or of hawthorn leaves, + And loud he sung against the sunny sheen,-- + 'O Maye with all thy flowers and thy green, + Right welcome be thou, faire, freshe, Maye! + I hope that I some green here getten may!" + +Smiling at the antique simplicity and freshness of the lines as they +rang across his brain like the musical jingle of an old-world +spinet, his ears suddenly caught the sound of young voices singing +at a distance. + +"Here come the children!" he said; and stepping out from his open +window into the garden, he again bent his ear to listen. The +tremulous voices came nearer and nearer, and words could now be +distinguished, breaking through the primitive quavering melody of +'The Mayers' Song' known to all the country side since the +thirteenth century: + + "Remember us poor Mayers all.-- + And thus do we begin, + To lead our lives in righteousness, + Or else we die in sin. + + We have been rambling all this night, + And almost all this day, + And now returning back again, + We bring you in the May. + + The hedges and trees they are so green, + In the sunne's goodly heat, + Our Heavenly Father He watered them + With His Heavenly dew so sweet. + + A branch of May we have brought you---" + +Here came a pause and the chorus dropped into an uncertain murmur. +John Walden heard his garden gates swing back on their hinges, and a +shuffling crunch of numerous small feet on the gravel path. + +"G'arn, Susie!" cried a shrill boy's voice--"If y'are leadin' us, +lead! G'arn!" + +A sweet flute-like treble responded to this emphatic adjuration, +singing alone, clear and high, + + "A branch of May---" and then all the other voices chimed in: + + "A branch of May we have brought you + And at your door it stands, + 'Tis but a sprout, + But 'tis budded out + By the work of our Lord's hands!" + +And with this, a great crown of crimson and white blossoms, set on a +tall, gaily-painted pole and adorned with bright coloured ribbons, +came nid-nodding down the box-tree alley to the middle of the lawn +opposite Walden's study window, where it was quickly straightened up +and held in position by the eager hands of some twenty or thirty +children, of all sizes and ages, who, surrounding it at its base, +turned their faces, full of shy exultation towards their pastor, +still singing, but in more careful time and tune: + + "The Heavenly gates are open wide, + Our paths are beaten plain, + And if a man be not too far gone, + He may return again. + + The moon shines bright and the stars give light + A little before it is day, + So God bless you all, both great and small, + And send you a merrie May!" + + + + +II + + +For a moment or two Walden found himself smitten by so strong a +sense of the mere simple sensuous joy of living, that he could do no +more than stand looking in silent admiration at the pretty group of +expectant young creatures gathered round the Maypole, and huddled, +as it were, under its cumbrous crown of dewy blossoms, which showed +vividly against the clear sky, while the long streamers of red, +white and blue depending from its summit, trailed on the daisy- +sprinkled grass at their feet. + +Every little face was familiar and dear to him. That awkward lad, +grinning from ear to ear, with a particularly fine sprig of +flowering hawthorn in his cap, was Dick Styles;--certainly a very +different individual to Chaucer's knight, Arcite, but resembling him +in so far that he had evidently gone into the woods early, moved by +the same desire: "I hope that I some green here getten may!" That +tiny girl, well to the front, with a clean white frock on and no hat +to cover her tangle of golden curls, was Baby Hippolyta,--the last, +the very last, of the seemingly endless sprouting olive branches of +the sexton, Adam Frost. Why the poor child had been doomed to carry +the name of Hippolyta, no one ever knew. When he, Walden, had +christened her, he almost doubted whether he had heard the lengthy +appellation aright, and ventured to ask the godmother of the +occasion to repeat it in a louder voice. Whereupon 'Hip-po-ly-ta' +was uttered in such strong tones, so thoroughly well enunciated, +that he could no longer mistake it, and the helpless infant, +screaming lustily, left the simple English baptismal font burdened +with a purely Greek designation. She was, however, always called +'Ipsie' by her playmates, and even her mother and father, who were +entirely responsible for her name in the first instance, found it +somewhat weighty for daily utterance and gladly adopted the simpler +sobriquet, though the elders of the village generally were rather +fond of calling her with much solemn unction: 'Baby Hippolyta,' as +though it were an elaborate joke. Ipsie was one of the loveliest +children in the village, and though she was only two-and-a-half +years old, she was fully aware of her own charms. She was pushed to +the front of the Maypole this morning, merely because she was +pretty,--and she knew it. That was why she lifted the extreme edge +of her short skirt and put it in her mouth, thereby displaying her +fat innocent bare legs extensively, and smiled at the Reverend John +Walden out of the uplifted corners of her forget-me-not blue eyes. +Then there was Bob Keeley, more or less breathless with excitement, +having just got back again from Badsworth Hall, his friend the +butcher boy having driven him to and from that place 'in a jiffy' as +he afterwards described it,--and there was a very sparkling, +smiling, vivacious little person of about fifteen, in a lilac cotton +frock, who wore a wreath of laburnum on her black curls, no other +than Kitty Spruce, generally alluded to in the village as 'Bob +Keeley's gel';--and standing near Baby Hippolyta, or 'Ipsie,' was +the acknowledged young beauty of the place, Susie Prescott, a slip +of a lass with a fair Madonna-like face, long chestnut curls and +great, dark, soft eyes like pansies filled with dew. Susie had a +decided talent for music,--she sang very prettily, and led the +village choir, under the guidance of Miss Janet Eden, the +schoolmistress. This morning, however, she was risking the duties of +conductorship on her own account, and very sweet she looked in her +cheap white nuns-veiling gown, wearing a bunch of narcissi +carelessly set in her hair and carrying a flowering hazel-wand in +her hand, with which she beat time for her companions as they +followed her bird-like carolling in the 'Mayers' Song.' But just now +all singing had ceased,--and every one of the children had their +round eyes fixed on John Walden with a mingling of timidity, +affection and awe that was very winning and pretty to behold. + +Taking in the whole picture of nature, youth and beauty, as it was +set against the pure background of the sky, Walden realised that he +was expected to say something,--in fact, he had been called upon to +say something every year at this time, but he had never been able to +conquer the singular nervousness which always overcame him on such +occasions. It is one thing to preach from a pulpit to an assembled +congregation who are prepared for orthodoxy and who are ready to +listen with more or less patience to the expounding of the same,-- +but it is quite another to speak to a number of girls and boys all +full of mirth and mischief, and as ready for a frolic as a herd of +young colts in a meadow. Especially when it happens that most of the +girls are pretty, and when, as a clergyman and director of souls, +one is conscious that the boys are more or less all in love with the +girls,--that one is a bachelor,--getting on in years too;--and that- +-chiefest of all--it is May-morning! One may perhaps be conscious of +a contraction at the heart,--a tightening of the throat,--even a +slight mist before the eyes may tease and perplex such an one--who +knows? A flash of lost youth may sting the memory,--a boyish craving +for love and sympathy may stir the blood, and may make the gravest +parson's speech incoherent,--for after all, even a minister of the +Divine is but a man. + +At any rate the Reverend John found it difficult to begin. The round +forget-me-not eyes of Baby Hippolyta stared into his face with +relentless persistency,--the velvet pansy-coloured ones of Susie +Prescott smiled confidingly up at him with a bewildering +youthfulness and unconsciousness of charm; and the mischief-loving +small boys and village yokels who stood grouped against the Maypole +like rough fairy foresters guarding magic timber, were, with all the +rest of the children, hushed into a breathless expectancy, waiting +eagerly for 'Passon' to speak. And 'Passon' thereupon began,--in the +lamest, feeblest, most paternally orthodox manner: + +"My dear children--" + +"Hooray! Hooray! Three cheers for 'Passon'! Hooray!" + +Wild whooping followed, and the Maypole rocked uneasily, and began +to slant downward in a drunken fashion, like a convivial giant whom +strong wine has made doubtful of his footing. + +"Take care, you young rascals!" cried Walden, letting sentiment, +orthodoxy and eloquence go to the winds,--"You will have the whole +thing down!" + +Peals of gay laughter responded, and the nodding mass of bloom was +swiftly pulled up and assisted to support its necessary horizontal +dignity. But here Baby Hippolyta suddenly created a diversion. Moved +perhaps by the consciousness of her own beauty, or by the general +excitement around her, she suddenly waved a miniature branch of +hawthorn and emitted a piercing yell. + +"Passon! Tum 'ere! Passon! Tum 'ere!" + +There was no possibility of 'holding forth' after this. A. short +address on the brevity of life, as being co-equal with the +evanescent joys of a Maypole, would hardly serve,--and a fatherly +ambition as to the unbecoming attitude of mendi-cancy assumed by +independent young villagers carrying a great crown of flowers round +to every house in the neighbourhood, and demanding pence for the +show, would scarcely be popular. Because what did the 'Mayers' Song +say: + +"The Heavenly gates are opened wide, Our paths are beaten plain; And +if a man be not too far gone, He may return again." + +And the 'Heavenly gates' of Spring being wide open, the Reverend +John, thought his special path was 'beaten plain' for the occasion; +and not being 'too far gone' either in bigotry or lack of heart, +John did what he reverently imagined the Divine Master might have +done when He 'took a little child and set it in the midst." He +obeyed Baby Hippolyta's imperious command, and to her again loudly +reiterated "Passon! Tum 'ere!" he sprang forward and caught her up +in his arms, kissing her rosy cheeks heartily as he did so. Seated +in 'high exalted state' upon his shoulder. 'Ipsie' became Hippolyta +in good earnest, so thoroughly aware was she of her dignity, while, +holding her as lightly and buoyantly as he would have held a bird, +the Reverend John turned his smiling face on his young parishioners. + +"Come along, boys and girls!" he exclaimed,--"Come and plant the +Maypole in the big meadow yonder, as you did last year! It is a +holiday for us all to-day,--for me as well as for you! It has always +been a holiday even before the days when great Elizabeth was Queen +of England, and though many dear old customs have fallen into disuse +with the changing world, St. Rest has never yet been robbed of its +May-day festival! Be thankful for that, children!--and come along;-- +but move carefully!--keep order,--and sing as you come!" + +Whereupon Susie Prescott lifted up her pretty voice again and her +hazel wand baton at the same moment, and started the chorus with the +verse: + +"We have been rambling all this night, And almost all this day; And +now returning back again, We bring you in the May!" + +And thus carolling, they passed through the garden moving meadow- +wards, Walden at the head of the procession,--and Baby Hippolyta +seated on his shoulder, was so elated with the gladsome sights and +sounds, that she clasped her chubby arms round 'Passon's' neck and +kissed him with a fervour that was as fresh and delightful as it was +irresistibly comic. + +Bainton, making his way along the southern wall of the orchard, to +take a 'glance round' as he termed it, at the condition of the wall +fruit-trees before his master joined him on the usual morning tour +of inspection, stopped and drew aside to watch the merry procession +winding along under the brown stems dotted with thousands of red +buds splitting into pink-and-white bloom; and a slow smile moved the +furrows of his face upward in various pleasant lines as he saw the +'Passon' leading it with a light step, carrying the laughing 'Ipsie' +on his shoulder, and now and again joining in the 'Mayers' Song' +with a mellow baritone voice that warmed and sustained the whole +chorus. + +"There 'e goes!" he said half aloud--"Jes' like a boy!--for all the +wurrld like a boy! I reckon 'e's got the secret o' never growin' +old, for all that 'is 'air's turnin' a bit grey. 'Ow many passons in +this 'ere neighbrood would carry the children like that, I wonder? +Not one on 'em!--though there's a many to pick an' choose from--a +darned sight too many if you axes my opinion! Old Putty Leveson, +wi's bobbin' an' 'is bowin's to the east--hor!--hor!--hor!--a fine +east 'e's got in 'is mouldy preachin' barn, wi' a whitewashed wall +an' a dirty bit o' tinsel fixed up agin it--he wouldn't touch a +child o' ourn, to save 'is life--though 'e's got three or four mean, +lyin' pryin' brats of 'is own runnin' wild about the place as might +jest as well 'ave never been born. And as for Francis Anthony, the +'igh pontiff o' Riversford, wi's big altar-cloak embrided for 'im by +all the poor skinny spinsters wot ain't never 'ad no chance to +marry--'e'd see all the children blowed to bits under the walls of +Jericho to the sound o' the trumpets afore 'e'd touch 'em! Talk o' +saints!--I'm not very good at unnerstannin' that kind o' folk, not +seein' myself 'owever a saint could manage to get on in this mortal +wurrld; but I reckon to think there's a tollable imitation o' the +real article in Passon Walden--the jolly sort o' saint, o' coorse,-- +not the prayin', whinin', snuffin' kind. 'E's been doin' nothin' but +good ever since 'e came 'ere, which m'appen partly from 'is not +bein' married. If 'e'd gotten a wife, the place would a' been awsome +different. Not but wot 'e ain't a bit cranky over 'is, flowers +'isself. But I'd rather 'ave 'im fussin' round than a petticut arter +me. A petticut at 'ome's enough, an' I ain't complainin' on it, +though it's a bit breezy sometimes,--but a petticut in the gard'nin' +line would drive me main wild--it would reely now!" + +And still smiling with perfect complacency, he watched the Maypole +being carried carefully along the space of grass left open between +the fruit trees on either side of the orchard, and followed its +bright patch of colour and the children's faces and forms around it, +till it entirely disappeared among the thicker green of a clump of +elms that bordered the 'big meadow,' which Walden generally kept +clear of both crops and cattle for the benefit of the village sports +and pastimes. + +He was indeed the only land-owner in the district who gave any +consideration of this kind to the needs of the people. St. Rest was +surrounded on all sides by several large private properties, richly +wooded, and possessing many acres of ploughed and pasture land, but +there was no public right-of-way across any single one of them, and +every field, every woodland path, every tempting dell was rigidly +fenced and guarded from 'vulgar' intrusion. None of the proprietors +of these estates, however, appeared to take the least personal joy +or pride in their possessions. They were for the most part away in +London for 'the season' or abroad 'out' of the season,--and their +extensive woods appeared to exist chiefly for the preservation of +game, reared solely to be shot by a few idle louts of fashion during +September and October, and also for the convenience and support of a +certain land agent, one Oliver Leach, who cut down fine old timber +whenever he needed money, and thought it advisable to pocket the +proceeds of such devastation. + +Scarcely in one instance out of a hundred did the actual owners of +property miss the trees sufficiently to ask what had become of them. +So long as the game was all right, they paid little heed to the +rest. The partridges and the pheasants thrived, and so did Mr. +Oliver Leach. He enjoyed, however, the greatest unpopularity of any +man in the neighbourhood, which was some small comfort to those who +believed in the laws of compensation and justice. Bainton was his +particular enemy for one, and Bainton's master, John Walden, for +another. His long-practised 'knavish tricks' and the malicious +delight he took in trying to destroy or disfigure the sylvan beauty +of the landscape by his brutish ignorance of the art of forestry, +combined with his own personal greed, were beginning to be well- +known in St. Rest, and it is very certain that on May-morning when +the youngsters of the village were abroad and, to a great extent, +had it all their own way, (aided and abetted in that way by the +recognised authority of the place, the minister himself,) he would +never have dared to show his hard face and stiffly upright figure +anywhere, lest he should be unmercifully 'guyed' without a chance of +rescue or appeal. + +With the disappearance of the Maypole into the further meadow, +Bainton likewise disappeared on his round of duty, which, as he had +declared, moved him 'in sundry places,' and for a little while the +dove-like spirit of Spring brooded in restful silence over the quiet +orchard and garden. + +The singing of the May-day children had now grown so faint and far +as to be scarcely audible,--and the call of the cuckoo shrilling +above the plaintive murmur of the wood pigeons, soon absorbed even +the echo of the young human voices passing away. A light breeze +stirred the tender green grass, shaking down a shower of pink almond +bloom as it swept fan-like through the luminous air,--a skylark half +lost in the brilliant blue, began to descend earthwards, flinging +out a sparkling fountain of music with every quiver of his jewel- +like wings, and away in the sheltered shade of a small hazel copse, +the faint fluty notes of a nightingale trembled with a mysterious +sweetness suggestive of evening, when the song should be full. + +More than an hour elapsed, and no living being entered the seclusion +of the parson's garden save Nebbie, the parson's rough Aberdeen +terrier, who, appearing suddenly at the open study-window, sniffed +at the fair prospect for a moment, and then, stepping out with a +leisurely air of proprietorship lay down on the grass in the full +sunshine. A wise-looking dog was Nebbie,--though few would have +thought that his full name was Nebuchadnezzar. Only the Reverend +John knew that. Nebbie was perfectly aware that the children had +come with the Maypole, and that his master had accompanied them to +the big meadow. Nebbie also knew that presently that same master of +his would return again to make the circuit of the garden in the +company of Bainton, according to custom,--and as he stretched his +four hairy paws out comfortably, and blinked his brown eyes at a +portly blackbird prodding in the turf for a worm within a stone's +throw of him, he was evidently considering whether it would be worth +his while, as an epicurean animal, to escort these two men on their +usual round on such a warm pleasant morning. For it was a dog's real +lazy day,--a day when merely to lie on the grass was sufficient +satisfaction for the canine mind. And Nebbie, yawning extensively, +and stretching himself a little more, closed his eyes in a rapture +of peace, and stirred his tail slightly with one, two, three mild +taps on the soft grass, when a sudden clear whistle caused him to +spring up with every hair bristling on end, fore-paws well forward +and eyes wide open. + +"Nebbie! Nebbie!" + +Nebbie was nothing if not thoroughbred, and the voice of his master +was, despite all considerations of sleep and sunshine, to him as the +voice of the commanding officer to a subaltern. He was off like a +shot at a tearing pace, nose down and tail erect, and in less than a +minute had scented Walden in the shrubbery, which led by devious +windings down from the orchard to the banks of the river Rest, and +there finding him, started frantically gambolling round and round +him, as though years had parted man and dog from one another, +instead of the brief space of an hour. Walden was smiling to +himself, and his countenance was extremely pleasant. Nebbie, with +the quaint conceit common to pet animals, imagined that the smile +was produced specially for him, and continued his wild jumps and +barks till his red tongue hung a couple of inches out of his mouth +with excess of heat and enthusiasm. + +"Nebbie! Nebbie!" said the Reverend John, mildly; "Don't make such a +noise! Down, lad, down!" + +Nebbie subsided, and on reaching the river bank, squatted on his +haunches, with his tongue still lolling out, while he watched his +master step on a small floating pier attached by iron chains and +posts to the land, and bend therefrom over into the clear water, +looking anxiously downward to a spot he well knew, where hundreds of +rare water-lilies were planted deep in the bed of the stream. + +"Nymphea Odorata,"--he murmured, in the yearning tone of a lover +addressing his beloved;--"Nymphea Chromatella--now I wonder if I +shall see anything of them this year! The Aurora Caroliniana must +have been eaten up by water-rats!" + +Nebbie uttered a short bark. The faintest whisper of 'rats' +seriously affected his nerves. He could have told his master many a +harrowing story of those mischievous creatures swimming to and fro +in the peaceful flood, tearing with their sharp teeth at the lily +roots, and making a horrible havoc of all the most perfect buds of +promise. The river Rest itself was so clear and bright that it was +difficult to associate rats with its silver flowing,--yet rats there +were, hiding among the osiers and sedges, frightening the moorhens +and reed-warblers out of their little innocent lives. Nebbie caught +and killed them whenever he could,--but he had no particular taste +for swimming, and he was on rather 'strained relations' with a pair +of swans who, with a brood of cygnets kept fierce guard on the +opposite bank against all unwelcome intrusion. + +His careful examination of the lily beds done, John Walden sprang +back again from the pier to the land, and there hesitated a moment. +His eyes rested longingly on a light punt, which, running half out +of a rustic boathouse, swayed suggestively on the gleaming water. + +"I wish I had time,--" he said, half aloud, while Nebbie wagging his +tail violently, sat waiting and expectant. The river looked +deliciously tempting. The young green of the silver birches drooping +above its shining surface, the lights and shadows rippling across it +with every breath of air,--the skimming of swallows to and fro,--the +hum of bees among the cowslips, thyme and violets that were pushing +fragrantly through the clipped turf,--were all so many wordless +invitations to him to go forth into the fair freedom of Nature. + +"The green trees whispered low and mild, It was a sound of joy! They +were my playmates when a child, And rocked me in their arms so wild! +Still they looked on me and smiled As if I were a boy!" + +Such simple lines,--by Longfellow too, the despised of all the Sir +Oracles of criticism,--yet coming to Walden's memory suddenly, they +touched a chord of vivid emotion. + +"And still they whispered soft and low! Oh, I could not choose but +go!" + +he hummed half under his breath, and then with a decided movement +turned from the winding river towards the house. + +"No, Nebbie, it's no use," he said aloud, addressing his four-footed +comrade, who thereupon got up reluctantly and began to trot +pensively beside him--"We mustn't be selfish. There are a thousand +and one things to do. There is dinner to be served to the children +at two o'clock--there is Mrs. Keeley to call upon--there are the +school accounts to be looked into,--" here he glanced at his watch-- +" Good Heavens!--how time flies! It is half-past eleven! I shall +have to see Bainton later on." + +He hurried his steps and was just in sight of his study window, when +he was met by his parlourmaid, a neat, trim young woman who rejoiced +in the euphonious name of Hester Rockett, and who said as she +approached him: + +"If you please, sir, Mrs. Spruce." + +His genial face fell a little, and he heaved a short sigh. + +"Mrs. Spruce? Oh, Lord!--I mean, very well! Show her in, Hester. You +are sure she wants to see me? Or is it her girl Kitty she is after?" + +"She didn't mention Kitty, sir," replied Hester demurely; "She said +she wished to see you very particular." + +"All right! Show her into my study, and afterwards just go round to +the orchard and tell Bainton I will see him when he's had his +dinner. I know I sha'n't get off under an hour at least!" + +He sighed again, then smiled, and entered the house, Nebbie sedately +following. Arrived in his own quiet sanctum, he took off his soft +slouched hat and seated himself at his desk with a composed air of +patient attention, as the door was opened to admit a matronly- +looking lady with a round and florid countenance, clad in a +voluminous black gown, and wearing a somewhat aggressive black +bonnet, 'tipped' well forward, under which her grey hair was +plastered so far back as to be scarcely visible. There was a certain +aggrieved dignity about her, and a generally superior tone of self- +consciousness even in the curtsey which she dropped respectfully, as +she returned Walden's kindly nod and glance. + +"Good morning, Mrs. Spruce!" + +"Good morning, sir! I trust I see you well, sir?" + +"Thank you, Mrs. Spruce, I am very well." + +"Which is a mercy indeed!" said Mrs. Spruce fervently; "For we never +knows from one day to another whether we may be sound or crippled, +considering the diseases which now flies in the air with the dust in +the common road, as the papers tell us,--and dust is a thing we +cannot prevent, do what we may, for the dust is there by the will of +the Almighty, Who made us all out of it." + +She paused. John Walden smiled and pointed to a chair, + +"Won't you sit down, Mrs. Spruce?" + +"Thank you kindly, sir!" and Mrs. Spruce accordingly plumped into +the seat indicated with evident relief and satisfaction. "I will +confess that it is a goodish step to walk on such a warm morning." + +"You have come straight from the Manor?" enquired Walden, turning +over a few papers on his desk, and wondering within himself when the +good woman was going to unburden herself of her business. + +"Straight from the Manor, sir, yes,--and such a heat and moil I +never felt on any May morning, which is most onwholesome, I am sure. +A cold May and a warm June is what I prefers myself,--but when you +get the cuckoo and the nightingale clicketin' together in the woods +on the First of May, you can look out for quarrelsome weather at +Midsummer, leastways so I have heard my mother often say, and she +was considered a wise woman in her time, I do assure you!" + +Here Mrs. Spruce untied her bonnet-strings and flung them apart,-- +she likewise loosened the top button of her collar and heaved a deep +sigh. Again the Reverend John smiled, and vaguely balanced a +penholder on his fore-finger. + +"I daresay your mother was quite right, Mrs. Spruce! Indeed, I +believe all our mothers were quite right in their day. All the same, +I'm glad it's a fine May morning', for the children's sakes. They +are all down in the big meadow having a romp together. Your little +Kitty is with them, looking as bright as a May blossom herself." + +Mrs. Spruce straightened herself up, patted her ample bosom, with +one hand, and threw her bonnet-strings still further back. + +"Kitty's a good lass," she said, "though a bit mettlesome and wild; +but I'm not saying anything again her. The Lord forbid that I should +run down my own flesh and blood! An' she's better than most gels of +her age. I wouldn't grudge her a bit of fun while she's got it in +her,--Heaven knows it'll be soon gone out of her when she marries, +which nat'rally she will do, sooner or later. Anyhow, she's all I've +got,--which is a marvel how the Lord deals with some of us, when you +see a little chidester of a woman like Adam Frost's wife with +fifteen, boys and girls, and me with only one nesh maid." + +Walden was silent. He was not disposed to argue on such marvels of +the Lord's way, as resulted in endowing one family with fifteen +children, and the other with only a single sprout, such as was +accorded to the righteous Jephthah, judge of Israel. + +"Howsomever," continued Mrs. Spruce, "Kitty's welcome to jump round +the Maypole till she's wore her last pair of boots out, if so be +it's your wish, Mr. Walden,--and many thanks to you, sir, for all +your kindness to her!" + +"Don't mention it, Mrs. Spruce!" said Walden amicably, and then, +determining to bring the worthy woman sharply round to the real +object of her visit, he gave a side-glance at the clock. "Is there +anything you want me to do for you this morning? I'm rather busy--" + +"Beggin' your pardon, I'm sure, sir, for troubling you at all!-- +knowin' as I do that what with the moithering old folks and the +maupsing young ones, your 'ands is always full. But when I got the +letter this morning, I says to my husband, William--'William,' says +I, very loud, for the poor creature's growing so deaf that by and by +I shall be usin' a p'lice whistle to make him 'ear me--'William,' +says I, 'there is only one man in this village who's got the right +to give advice when advice is asked for. Of course there's no call +for us to follow advice, even when we gets it,--howsomever, it's +only respectable for decent church-going folks to see the minister +of the parish whenever there's any fear of our makin' a slip of our +souls and goin' wrong. Therefore, William,' says I, shaking him By +the arm to make the poor silly fool understand me, 'it's to Passon +Walden I'm goin' this mornin' with this letter,--to Passon Walden, +d'ye 'ear?' And he nodded his head wise-like, for all the world as +though there were a bit of sense in it, (which there ain't), and +agrees with me;--for the Lord, knows, if William doesn't, that it +may make an awsome change for him as well as for me. And I do +confess I've been took back." + +Following as best he could the entangled thread of the estimable +lady's discourse, Walden grasped the fact, albeit vaguely, that some +unexpected letter with unexpected news in it had arrived to trouble +the Spruces' domestic peace. Suppressing a slight yawn, he +endeavoured to assume the proper show of interest which every +village parson is expected to display on the shortest notice +concerning any subject, from the birth of the latest baby +parishioner, to the death of the earliest sucking pig. + +"I'm sorry you're in trouble, Mrs. Spruce," he said kindly; "What +letter are you speaking of? You see I don't quite understand--" + +"Which it's not to be expected you should, sir!" replied Mrs. Spruce +with an air of triumph,--"Considerin' as you wer'n't here when she +left, and the Manor has been what you may call a stately 'ome of +England deserted as most stately 'omes are, for more'n ten years, +you couldn't be expected to understand!" + +The Reverend John looked as he felt, completely mystified. He +'wasn't here when she left.' Who was 'she'? With all his naturally +sweet temper he began to feel slightly irritated. + +"Really, Mrs. Spruce," he said, endeavouring to throw an inflection +of sternness into his mellow voice, "I must ask you to explain +matters a little more clearly. I know that the Manor has been +practically shut up ever since I've been here,--that you are the +housekeeper in charge, and that your husband is woodman or forester +there,--but beyond this I know nothing. So you must not talk in +riddles, Mrs. Spruce,"--here his kind smile shone out again--"Even +as a boy I was never good at guessing them! And I am getting old +now." + +"So you are, sir--so you are!" agreed Mrs. Spruce sympathetically; +"And 'tis a shame for me to come worryin' of you,--for no one more +truly than myself can feel pity for the weariness of the flesh, when +'tis just a burden to the bones and no pleasure in the carryin' of +it, though you don't put much of it on, Passon Walden, you don't, I +do assure you! But it's Gospel truth that some folks wears thin like +a knife, while others wears thick like a pig, and there is no +stopping them,--either way bein' the Lord's will,--but I'm feelin' +real okkard myself to have put you about, Passon, only as I said, +I've been took back,--and here's the letter, sir, which if you will +kindly glance your hi over, you will tell me whether I've done the +right thing to call on my way down here and get in a couple of +scrubbers at eighteen-pence a day, which is dear, but they won't +come for less, jest to get some of the rough dirt off the floors +afore polishin', which polishin' will have to be done whether we +will or no, for the boards are solid oak, and bein' ancient take the +shine quickly, which is a mercy, for this day week is none too far +off, seein' all that's put upon me suddint." + +Here, being short of breath, she paused, and fumbling in a large +black calico pocket which hung loosely at her side, attached to her +ample waist by a string, she drew out with great care a rather +large, square-looking missive, and then rising from her chair with +much fluttering of her black gown and mysterious creaking sound, as +of tight under-wear strained to breaking point, she held it out +toward Walden, who had durng her last oratorical outburst +unconsciously put his hand to his head in a daze of bewilderment. + +"There is the letter sir," she continued, in the tone of one who +should say: 'There is the warrant for execution'--"'Short and +sweet,' as the farmer's wife said when she ate the pig's tail what +dropped off while the animal was a-roastin'." + +Allowing this brilliant simile to pass without comment, Walden took +the thick, creamy-white object she offered and found himself +considering it with a curious disfavour. It was a strictly +'fashionable' make of envelope, and was addressed in a particularly +bold and assertive hand-writing to + +MRS. SPRUCE, Housekeeper, Abbot's Manor, St. Rest. + +Opening it, the Reverend John read as follows: + +"Miss Vancourt begs to inform Mrs. Spruce that she will arrive at +Abbot's Manor on the 7th inst., to remain there in residence. Mrs. +Spruce is requested to engage the necessary household servants, as +Miss Vancourt will bring none except the groom in charge of her two +hunters." + +Over and over again Walden read this curt and commonplace note, with +a sense of irritation which he knew was perfectly absurd, but which, +nevertheless, defied all reason. The paper on which it was written +was thick and satiny,--and there was a faint artificial odour of +violets about it which annoyed him. He hated scented notepaper. +Deliberately he replaced it in its envelope, and holding it for a +moment as he again studied the superscription, he addressed the +expectant Mrs. Spruce, who had re-seated herself and was waiting for +him to speak. + +"Well, Mrs. Spruce, I don't think you need any advice from me on +such a simple matter as this," he said slowly. "Your duty is quite +plain. You must obey orders. Miss Vancourt is, I suppose, the +mistress of Abbot's Manor?" + +"She is, sir,--of course it all belongs to Miss Maryllia--" + +"Miss--what?" interrupted Walden, with a sudden lightening of his +dark blue eyes. + +"Maryllia, sir. It is a kind of family name, pronounced 'Ma-rill- +yer,'" explained Mrs. Spruce with considerable pomposity; "Many +folks never gets it right--it wants knowledge and practice. But if +you remember the pictures in the gallery at the Manor, sir, you may +call to mind one of the ancestresses of the Vancourts, painted in a +vi'let velvet; ridin' dress and holdin' a huntin' crop, and the name +underneath is 'Mary Ella Adelgisa de Vaignecourt' and it was after +her that the old Squire called his daughter Maryllia, rollin' the +two fust names, Mary Elia, into one, as it were, just to make a name +what none of his forebears had ever had. He was a queer man, the old +Squire--he wouldn't a-cared whether the name was Christian or +heathen." + +"I suppose not." said the Reverend John carelessly, rising and +pushing back his chair with a slightly impatient gesture; whereupon +Mrs. Spruce rose too, and stood 'at attention,' her loosened bonnet- +strings flying and her large black calico pocket well in evidence to +the front of her skirt. + +"Here's your letter, Mrs. Spruce;" and as she took it from his hand +with a curtsey he continued: "There is evidently nothing for it but +to get the house in order by the day appointed and do your best to +please the lady. I can quite understand that you feel a little +worried at having to prepare everything so quickly and +unexpectedly,--but after all, you must have often thought that Miss +Vancourt's return to her old home was likely to happen at any time." + +"Which I never did, sir!" declared Mrs. Spruce emphatically, "No, +sir, never! For when the old Squire died, she was jest a slip of +fifteen and her uncle, the Squire's own twin brother, what had +married an American heiress with somethin' like a hundred million of +money, so I'm told, took her straight away and adopted her like, and +the reg'ler pay for keepin' up the Manor and grounds has been sent +to us through a Bank, and so far we've got nothin' to complain of +bein' all strictly honourable both ways, but of Miss Vancourt we +never heard a thing. And Mr. Oliver Leach he is the agent of the +property, and he ain't never said a word,--and we think, me and my +husband, that he don't know nothin' of her comin' back, and should +we tell him, sir? Or would you reckon that we'd better keep a still +tongue in our heads till she do come? For there's no knowin' why or +wherefore she's comin',--though we did hear her poor uncle died two +years ago, and we wondered where she and her aunt with the hundred +million was got to--but mebbe she'll change her mind and not come, +after all?" + +"I should certainly not count upon that, if I were you, Mrs. +Spruce," said Walden decisively; "Your business is to keep +everything in order for the lady's arrival; but I don't think,--I +really don't think, you are at all bound to inform Mr. Oliver Leach +of the matter. He will no doubt find out for himself. or receive his +orders direct from Miss Vancourt." Here he paused. "How old did you +say she was when, she went away from home?" + +"Fifteen, sir. That was nigh eleven years ago,--just one week after +the Squire's funeral, and a year afore you came here, sir. She's +gettin' on for seven-and-twenty now." + +"Quite a woman, then," said Walden lightly; "Old enough to know her +own mind at any rate. Do you remember her?" + +"Perfectly well, sir,--a little flitterin' creature all eyes and +hair, with a saucy way of tossin' her curls about, and a trick of +singin' and shoutin' all over the place. She used to climb the pine +trees and sit in them and pelt her father with the cones. Oh, yes, +sir, she was a terrible child to rule, and it's Gospel truth there +was no ruling her, for the governesses came and went like the +seasons, one in, t'other out. Ay, but the Lord knows I'll never +forget the scream she gave when the Squire was brought home from the +hunting field stone dead!" + +Here John Walden turned his head towards her with an air of more +interest than he had yet shown. + +"Ah!--How was that?" he enquired. + +"He was killed jumpin' a fence;" went on Mrs. Spruce; "A fine, +handsome gentleman,--they say he'd been wild in his youth; anyhow he +got married in London to a great Court beauty, so I've been told. +And after the wedding, they went travelling allover the world for a +year and a half, and just when they was expected 'ome Mrs. Vancourt +died with the birth of the child, and he and the baby and the nurses +all came back here and he never stirred away again himself till +death took him at full gallop,--which is 'ow he always wished to +die. But poor Miss Maryllia--" And Mrs. Spruce sighed dolefully-- +"'Twas hard on her, seein' him ride off so gay and well and cheery +in the early mornin' to be brought home afore noon a corpse! Ay, it +was an awsome visitation of the Lord! Often when the wind goes +wimblin' through the pines near the house I think I 'ear her shriek +now,--ay, sir!--it was like the cry of somethin' as was havin' its +heart tore out!" + +Walden stood very silent, listening. This narrative was new to him, +and even Mrs. Spruce's manner of relating it was not without a +certain rough eloquence. The ancient history of the Vancourts he +knew as well as he knew the priceless archaeological value of their +old Manor-house as a perfect gem of unspoilt Tudor architecture,-- +but though he had traced the descent of the family from Robert +Priaulx de Vaignecourt of the twelfth century and his brother +Osmonde Priaulx de Vaignecourt who had, it was rumoured, founded a +monastery in the neighbourhood, and had died during a pilgrimage to +the Holy Land, he had ceased to follow the genealogical tree with +much attention or interest when the old Norman name of De +Vaignecourt had degenerated into De Vincourt and finally in the +times of James I. had settled down into Vancourt. Yet there was a +touch of old-world tragedy in Mrs. Spruce's modern history of the +young girl's shriek when she found herself suddenly fatherless on +that fatal hunting morning. + +"And now," continued Mrs. Spruce, coaxing one bonnet-string at a +time off each portly shoulder with considerable difficulty; "I +s'pose I must be goin', Passon Walden, and thank you kindly for all! +It's a great weight off my mind to have told you just what's +'appened, an' the changes likely to come off, and I do assure you +I'm of your opinion, Passon, in letting Oliver Leach shift for +himself, for if so be Miss Vancourt has the will of her own she had +when she was a gel, I shouldn't wonder if there was rough times in +store for him! But the Lord only knows what may chance to all of +us!" and here she heaved another dismal sigh as she tied the +refractory bonnet-strings into a bow under her fat chin. "It's +right-down sinful of me to be wishin' rough times to any man, seein' +I'm likely in for them myself, for a person's bound to be different +at nigh seven-and-twenty to what she was at fifteen, and the modern +ways of leddies ain't old ways, the Lord be merciful to us all! And +I do confess, Passon, it's a bit upsettin' at my time of life to +think as how I've lived in Abbot's Manor all these years, and now +for all I can tell, me and William may have to shift. And where +we'll go, the Lord only knows!" + +"Now don't anticipate misfortune, Mrs. Spruce!" said Walden, +beginning to shake off the indescribable feeling of annoyance +against which he had been fighting for the past few minutes and +resuming his usual quiet air of cheerfulness; "Miss Vancourt is not +likely to dismiss you unless you offend her. The great thing is to +avoid offence,--and to do even more than your strict duty in making +her old home look its best and brightest for her return and--" Here +he hesitated for a moment, then went on--"Of course if I can do +anything to help you, I will." + +"Thank you, sir, I'm sure most kindly," said Mrs. Spruce curtseying +two or three times in a voluminous overflow of gratitude. "I shall +take the liberty of asking you to step up during the week, to see +how things appears to you yourself. And as for servants, there's no +gels old enough at the school for servants, so I'll be goin' to +Riversford with the carrier's cart to-morrow to see what I can do. +Ah, It's an awsome mission I'm goin' on; there ain't no gels to be +got of the old kind, as far as I can make out. They all wants to be +fine leddies nowadays and marry 'Merican millionaires." + +"Not quite so bad as that, I think, Mrs. Spruce!" laughed Walden, +holding open the door of the study for her to pass out, as a broad +hint that the interview must be considered at an end.--"There are +plenty of good, industrious, intelligent girls in England ready and +willing to enter domestic service, if we make it worth their while,- +-and I'm sure no one can teach YOU anything in that line! Good- +morning, Mrs. Spruce!" + +"Good-morning, sir,--and you'll step up to the Manor when convenient +some afternoon?" + +"Certainly, if you wish it. Whenever convenient to yourself, Mrs. +Spruce." + +Mrs. Spruce curtseyed again at the respect for her own importance +which was implied in Walden's last sentence, and slowly sidled out, +the 'Passon' watching her with a smile as she trotted down the +passage from his study to a door which led to the kitchen and +basement. + +"Now she'll go and tell all her story again to Hester and the cook," +he said to himself; "And how she will enjoy herself to be sure! +Bless the woman, what a tongue she has! No wonder her husband is +deaf!" + +He re-seated himself at his desk, and taking up a bundle of accounts +connected with the church and the school, tried to fix his attention +on them, but in vain. His mind wandered. He was obliged to own to +himself that he was unreasonably irritated at the news that Abbot's +Manor, which had been so long a sort of unoccupied 'show' house, was +again to be inhabited,--and by one who was its rightful owner too. +Ever since he had bought the living of St. Rest he had been +accustomed to take many solitary walks through the lovely woods +surrounding the Vancourts' residence, without any fear of being +considered a trespasser,--and he had even strolled through the wide, +old-fashioned gardens with as little restraint as though they had +belonged to himself, Mrs. Spruce, the housekeeper, being the last +person in the world to forbid her minister to enter wherever he +would. He had passed long hours of delightful research in the old +library, and many afternoons of meditation in the picture gallery, +where the portrait of the lady in the 'vi'let velvet,' Mary Elia +Adelgisa de Vaignecourt, had often caught his eye and charmed his +fancy when the setting sun had illumined its rich colouring and had +given life to the face, half-petulant, half-sweet, which pouted +forth from the old canvas like a rose with light on its petals. Now +all these pleasant rambles were finished. The mistress of Abbot's +Manor would certainly object to a wandering parson in her house and +grounds. Probably she was a very imperious, disagreeable young +woman,--full of the light scorn, lack of sentiment and cheap atheism +common to the 'smart' lady of a decadent period, and if it were true +that she had been for so many years in the charge of an American +aunt with a 'hundred millions,' the chances were ten to one that she +would be an exceedingly unpleasant neighbour. + +He gave a short impatient sigh. + +"Ah, well! I only hope she will put a stop to the felling of the +fine old trees in her domain," he said half aloud,--"If no one else +in the village has the pluck to draw her attention to the +depredations of Oliver Leach, I will. But, so far as other matters +go,--my walks in the Manor woods are ended! Yes, Nebbie!" and he +gently patted the head of the faithful animal, who, with inborn +sagacity instinctively guessing that his master was somewhat +annoyed, was clambering with caressing forepaws against his knee. +"Our rambles by the big elms and silvery birches and under the +beautiful tall pines are over, Nebbie! and we shouldn't be human if +we weren't just a trifle sorry! Sir Morton Pippitt is bad enough as +a neighbour, but he's a good three miles off at Badsworth Hall, +thank Heaven!--whereas Abbot's Manor is but a quarter of an hour's +walk from this gate. We've had pleasant times in the dear old- +fashioned gardens, Nebbie, you and I, but it's all over! The +mistress of the Manor is coming home,--and I'm positively certain, +Nebbie,--yes, old boy!--positively certain that we shall both detest +her!" + + + + +III + + +When England's great Queen, Victoria the Good; was still enjoying +her first happy years of wedded life, and society, under her gentle +sway, was less ostentatious and much more sincere in its code of +ethics than it is nowadays, the village of St. Rest, together with +the adjacent post-town of Riversford, enjoyed considerable +importance in county chronicles. Very great 'county personages' were +daily to be seen comporting themselves quite simply among their own +tenantry, and the Riversford Hunt Ball annually gathered together a +veritable galaxy of 'fair women and brave men' who loved their +ancestral homes better than all the dazzle and movement of town, and +who possessed for the most part that 'sweet content' which gives +strength to the body and elasticity to the mind. There was then a +natural gaiety and spontaneous cheerfulness in English country life +that made such a life good for human happiness; and the jolly +Squires who with their 'dames' kept open house and celebrated +Harvest Home and Christmas Festival with all the buoyancy and vigour +of a sane and healthful manhood undeteriorated by any sickly taint +of morbid pessimism and indifferent inertia, were the beneficent +rulers of a merrier rural population than has ever been seen since +their day. Squire Vancourt the elder, grandfather of the present +heiress of Abbot's Manor, had been a splendid specimen of 'the fine +old English gentleman, all of the olden time,' and his wife, one of +the handsomest, as well as one of the kindest-hearted women that +ever lived, had been justly proud of her husband, devoted to her +children, and a true friend and benefactress to the neighbourhood. +Her four sons, two of whom were twins, all great strapping lads, +built on their vigorous father's model, were considered the best- +looking young men in the county, and by their fond mother were +judged as the best-hearted; but, as it often happens, Nature was +freakish in their regard, and turned them all out wild colts of a +baser breed than might have been expected from their unsullied +parentage. The eldest took to hard drinking and was killed at +steeple-chasing; the second was drowned while bathing; one of the +twins, named Frederick, the younger by a few minutes, after nearly +falling into unnameable depths of degradation by gambling with +certain 'noble and exalted' personages of renown, saved himself, as +it were, by the skin of his teeth, through marriage with a rich +American girl whose father was blessed with unlimited, oil-mines. He +was thereby enabled to wallow in wealth with an impaired digestion +and shattered nervous power, while capricious Fate played him her +usual trick in her usual way by denying him any heirs to his married +millions. His first-born brother, Robert, wedded for love, and chose +as his mate a beautiful girl without a penny, whose grace and charm +had dazzled the London world of fashion for about two seasons, and +she had died at the age of twenty in giving birth to her first +child, the girl whom her father had named Maryllia. + +All these chances and changes of life, however, occurring to the +leading family of the neighbourhood had left very little mark on St. +Rest, which drowsed under the light shadow of the eastern hills by +its clear flowing river, very much as it had always drowsed in the +old days, and very much as it would always do even if London and +Paris were consumed by unsuspected volcanoes. The memory of the +first 'old Squire,'--who died peacefully in his bed all alone, his +wife having passed away two years before him, and his two living +twin sons being absent,--was frequently mixed with stories of the +other 'old Squire' Robert, the elder twin, who was killed in the +hunting field,--and indeed it often happened that some of the more +ancient and garrulous villagers were not at all sure as to which was +which. The Manor had been shut up for ten years,--the Manor 'family' +had not been heard of during all that period, and the tenantry's +recollection of their late landlord, as well as of his one daughter, +was more vague and confused than authentic. The place had been +'managed' and the cottage rents collected by the detested agent +Oliver Leach, a fact which did not sweeten such remembrance of the +Vancourts as still existed in the minds of the people. + +However, nothing in the general aspect and mental attitude of the +village had altered very much since the early thirties, except the +church. That from a mere ruin, had under John Walden's incumbency +become a gem of architecture, so unique and perfect as to be the +wonder and admiration of all who beheld it, and whereas in the early +Victorian reign a few people stopped at Riversford because it was a +county town and because there was an inn there where they could put +up their horses, so a few people now went to St. Rest, because there +was a church there worth looking at. They came by train to +Riversford, where the railway line stopped, and then took carriage +or cycled the seven miles between that town and St. Rest to see the +church; and having seen it, promptly went back again. For one of the +great charms of the little village hidden under the hills was that +no tourist could stay a night in it, unless he or she took one spare +room--there was only one--at the small public-house which sneaked +away up round a corner of the street under an archway of ivy, and +pushed its old gables through the dark enshrouding leaves with a +half-surprised, half-propitiatory air, as though somewhat ashamed of +its own existence. With the exception of this one room in this one +public-house, there was no accommodation for visitors. Never will +the rash cyclist who ventured once to appeal to the sexton's wife +for rooms in her cottage, forget the brusqueness of his reception: + +"Rooms!" And Mrs. Frost, setting her arms well akimbo, surveyed the +enquirer scornfully through an open doorway, rendered doubly +inviting by the wealth of roses clambering round it. "Be off, young +man! Where was you a-comin' to? D'ye think a woman wi' fifteen great +boys and girls in an' out of the 'ouse all day, 'as rooms for payin' +guests!" And here Mrs. Frost, snorting at the air in irrepressible +disdain, actually snapped her fingers in her would-be lodger's face. +"Rooms indeed! Go to Brighting!" + +Whereupon the abashed wheelman went,--whether to Brighton, as the +irate lady suggested, or to a warmer place unmentionable history +sayeth not. But St. Rest remained, as its name implied, restful,-- +and the barbaric yell of the cheap tripper, together with the +equally barbaric scream of the cheap tripper's 'young lady' echoed +chiefly through modernised and vulgarised Riversford, where there +were tea-rooms and stuffy eating-houses and bad open-air concerts, +such as trippers and their 'ladies' delight in,--and seldom +disturbed the tranquil charm of the tiny mediaeval village dear to a +certain few scholars, poets and antiquarians who, through John +Walden, had gradually become acquainted with this 'priceless bit' as +they termed it, of real 'old' England and who almost feared to +mention its existence even in a whisper, lest it should be 'swarmed +over' by enquiring Yankees, searching for those everlasting +ancestors who all managed so cleverly to cross the sea together in +one boat, the Mayflower. + +There is something truly pathetic as well as droll in the anxiety of +every true American to prove himself or herself an offshoot from +some old British root of honour or nobility. It would be cruel to +laugh at this instinct, for after all it is only the passionate +longing of the Prodigal Son who, having eaten of the husks that the +swine did eat, experienced such an indigestion at last, that he said +'I will arise and go to my father.' And it is quite possible that an +aspiring Trans-Atlantic millionaire yearning for descent more than +dollars, would have managed to find tracks of a Mayflower pedigree +in St. Rest, a place of such antiquity as to be able to boast a +chivalric 'roll of honour' once kept in the private museum at +Badsworth Hall before the Badsworth family became extinct, but now, +thanks to Walden, rescued from the modern clutch of the Hall's +present proprietor, Sir Morton Pippitt, and carefully preserved in +an iron box locked up in the church, along with other documents of +value belonging to the neighbourhood. On this were inscribed the +names of such English gentlemen once resident in the district, who +had held certain possessions in France at the accession of Henry II. +in 1154. Besides the 'roll of honour' there were other valuable +records having to do with the Anglo-French campaigns in the time of +King John, and much concerning those persons of St. Rest and +Riversford who took part in the Wars of the Barons. + +Whatever there was of curious or interesting matter respecting the +village and its surroundings had been patiently ferreted out by John +Walden, who had purchased the living partly because he knew it to be +a veritable mine for antiquarian research, and one likely to afford +him inexhaustible occupation and delight. But there were, of course, +other reasons for his settling down in so remote a spot far from the +busy haunts of men,--reasons which, to his own mind, were perfectly +natural and simple, though on account of his innate habit of +reticence, and disinclination to explain his motives to others, they +were by some supposed to be mysterious. In his youth he had been one +of the most brilliant and promising of University scholars, and all +those who had assisted to fit him for his career in the Church, had +expected great things of him. Some said he would be a Bishop before +he was thirty; others considered that he would probably content +himself with being the most intellectual and incisive preacher of +his time. But he turned out to be neither one nor the other. A +certain Henry Arthur Brent, his fellow student at College and five +years his senior, had, with apparent ease, outstripped him in the +race for honour, though lacking in all such exceptional slowly off +towards the vegetable garden where his 'under gardeners' as he +called three or four sturdy village lads employed to dig and hoe, +constantly required his supervision. + +Meanwhile Walden, leaving his own grounds, entered the churchyard, +walking with softly reverent step among the little green mounds of +earth, under which kind eyes were closed, and warm hearts lay cold, +till, reaching the porched entrance of the church itself, he paused, +brought to a halt by the sound of voices which were pitched rather +too loud for propriety, considering the sacredness of the +surroundings. + +"That eastern window is crude--very crude!" said a growlingly robust +baritone; "I suppose the reverend gentleman could not secure +sufficient subscriptions to meet the expense of suitable stained +glass?" + +"Unfortunately Mr. Walden is a very self-opinionated man," replied a +smooth and oily tenor, whose particular tone of speech Walden +recognised as that of the Reverend 'Putty' Leveson, the minister of +Badsworth, a small scattered village some five or six miles 'on the +wrong side of Badsworth Hall,' as the locality was called, owing to +its removed position from the county town of Riversford. "He would +not accept outside advice. Of course these columns and capitals are +all wrong,--they are quite incongruous with early Norman walls,--but +when ignorance is allowed to have its own way, the effect is always +disastrous." + +"Always--always,--my dear sir--always!" And the voice or Sir Morton +Pippitt, high pitched and resonant, trolled out on the peaceful air; +"The fact is, the church could have been much better done, had I +been consulted! The whole thing was carried out in the most brazen +manner, under my very nose, sir, under my very nose!--without so +much as a 'by your leave'! Shocking, shocking! I complained to the +Bishop, but it was no use, for it seems that he has a perfect +infatuation for this man Walden--they were college friends or +something of that kind. As for the sarcophagus here, of course it +ought in the merest common decency to have been transferred to the +Cathedral of the diocese. But you see the present incumbent bought +the place;--the purchase of advowsons is a scandal, in my opinion-- +however this man got it all his own way, more's the pity!--he bought +it through some friend or other--and so--" + +"So he could do as he liked with it!" said a mild, piping falsetto; +"And so far, he has made it beau-ti-ful!--beau-ti-ful!" carved with +traceries of natural fruit and foliage, which were scarcely injured +by the devastating mark of time. But rough and sacrilegious hands +had been at work to spoil and deface the classic remains of the +time-worn edifice, and some of the lancet windows had been actually +hewn out and widened to admit of the insertion of modern timber +props which awkwardly supported a hideous galvanised iron roof, on +the top of which was erected a kind of tin hen-coop in which a sharp +bell clanged with irritating rapidity for Sunday service. Outside, +the building was thus rendered grotesquely incongruous,--inside it +was almost blasphemous in its rank ugliness. There were several rows +of narrow pews made of common painted deal,--there was a brown stone +font and a light pine-wood pulpit--a small harmonium stood in one +corner, festooned by a faded red woollen curtain, and a general air +of the cheap upholsterer and jerry-builder hovered over the whole +concern. And the new incumbent, gazing aghast at the scene, was +triumphantly informed that "Sir Morton Pippitt had been generous +enough to roof and 'restore' the church in this artistic manner out +of his own pocket, for the comfort of the villagers," and moreover +that he actually condescended to attend Divine service under the +galvanised iron roof which he had so liberally erected. Nay, it had +been even known that Sir Morton had on one or two occasions himself +read the Lessons in the absence of the late rector, who was subject +to sore throats and was constantly compelled to call in outside +assistance. + +To all this information John Walden said nothing. He was not +concerned with Sir Morton Pippitt or any other county magnate in the +management of his own affairs. A fortnight after his arrival he +quietly announced to his congregation that the church was about to +be entirely restored according to its original lines of +architecture, and that a temporary building would be erected on his, +Walden's, own land for the accommodation of the people during such +time as the restoration should be in progress. This announcement +brought about Walden's first acquaintance with his richest +neighbour, Sir Morton Pippitt. That gentleman having been accustomed +to have his own way in everything concerning St. Rest, for a +considerable time, straightway wrote, expressing his 'surprise and +indignation' at the mere assumption that any restoration was +required for the church beyond what he, Sir Morton, had effected at +his own expense. The number of parishioners was exceedingly small,-- +too small to warrant any further expenditure for enlarging a place +of worship which mental ability as he possessed, and was now Bishop +of the very diocese in which he had his little living. University +men said he had 'stood aside' in order to allow Brent to press more +swiftly forward, but though this was a perfectly natural supposition +on the part of those who knew something of Walden's character, it +was not correct. Walden at that time had only one object in life,-- +and this was to secure such name and fame, together with such +worldly success as might delight and satisfy the only relative he +had in the world, his sister, a beautiful and intelligent woman, +full of an almost maternal tenderness for him, and a sweet +resignation to her own sad lot, which made her the victim of a slow +and incurable disease. So long as she lived, her brother threw +himself into his work with intensity and ardour; but when she died +that impulse withered, as it were, at its very root. The world +became empty for him, and he felt that from henceforth he would be +utterly companionless. For what he had seen of modern women, modern +marriage and modern ways of life, did not tempt him to rashly seek +refuge for his heart's solitude in matrimony. Almost immediately +following the loss of his sister, an uncle of whom he had known very +little, died suddenly, leaving him a considerably large fortune. As +soon as he came into possession of this unexpected wealth, he +disappeared at once from the scene of his former labours,--the +pretty old house in the University town, with its great cedars +sloping to the river and its hallowed memories of the sister he had +so dearly loved, was sold by private treaty,--his voice was heard no +more in London pulpits, where it had begun to carry weight and +influence,--and he managed to obtain the then vacant and obscure +living of St. Rest, the purchase of the advowson being effected, so +it was said, privately through the good offices of his quondam +college friend, Bishop Brent. And at St. Rest he had remained, +apparently well contented with the very simple and monotonous round +of duty it offered. + +When he had first arrived there, he found that the church consisted +of some thick stone walls of the early Norman, period, built on a +cruciform plan, the stones being all uniformly wrought and close- +jointed,--together with a beautiful ruined chancel divided from the +main body of the building by massive columns, which supported on +their capitals the fragments of lofty arches indicative of an +architectural transition from the Norman to the Early Pointed +English style. There were also the hollow slits of several lancet +windows, and one almost perfect pierced circular window to the east, +elaborately And here he whirled round on his only daughter, an +angular and severely-visaged spinster; "Look at this fool!--this +staring ape! All the sauce on the carpet! Wish he had to pay for it! +He'll take an hour to get a cloth and wipe it up! Why did you engage +such a damned ass, eh?" + +Miss Tabitha preserved a prudent silence, seeing that the butler, a +serious-looking personage with a resigned-to-ill-usage demeanour, +was already engaged in assisting the hapless footman to remove the +remains of the spilt condiment, from the offended gaze of his irate +master. + +"Like his damned impudence!" broke out Sir Morton again, resuming +with some reluctance his seat at the breakfast table, and chopping +at the fried bacon on his plate till the harder bits flew far and +wide,--"'Happy to reimburse me!'--the snivelling puppy! Why the +devil he was allowed to sneak into this living, I don't know! The +private purchase of advowsons is a scandal--a disgraceful scandal! +Any Tom, Dick or Harry can get a friend to buy him a benefice in +which to make himself a nuisance! Done under the rose,--and called a +'presentation'! All humbug and hypocrisy! That's why we get impudent +dogs like this beast Walden settling down in a neighbourhood whether +we like it or not!" + +Miss Tabitha munched some toast slowly with a delicate regard for +her front teeth, which had cost money. There was no one in the room +to suggest to Sir Morton that it is a pity some law is not in +progress to prevent the purchase of historic houses by vulgar and +illiterate persons of no family;--which would be far more a benefit +to the land at large than the suppression of privately purchased +benefices. For the chances are ten to one that the ordained +minister, who, by his own choice secures a Church living for +himself, is likely at least to be a well-educated gentleman, +interested in the work he has himself elected to do,--whereas the +illiterate individual who buys an historic house simply for self- +glorification, will probably be no more than a mere petty and +pompous tyrant over the district which that particular house +dominates. + +Badsworth Hall, a fine sixteenth-century pile, had, through the +reckless racing and gambling propensities of the last heir, fallen +into the hands of the Jews. On the fortunate demise of the young +gentleman who had brought it to this untimely end, it was put up for +sale with all its contents. And Sir Morton Pippitt,--a rich +colonial, whose forebears were entirely undistinguished, but who had +made a large fortune by a bone-melting business, which converted the +hoofs, horns and (considering that some years ago it had been a mere +roofless ruin, and that the people had been compelled to walk or +drive to Riversford in order to attend church at all on Sundays) Sir +Morton thought was now very comfortable and satisfactory. In fact, +Sir Morton concluded, "Mr. Walden would be very ill-advised if he +made any attempt to raise money for such a useless purpose as the +'entire restoration' of the church of St. Rest, and Mr. Walden might +as well be at once made aware that Sir Morton himself would not give +a penny towards it." To which somewhat rambling and heated epistle +John Walden replied with civil stiffness as follows: + +"The Rev. John Walden presents his compliments to Sir Morton +Pippitt, and in answer to his letter begs to say that he has no +intention of raising any subscription to defray the cost of +restoring the church, which in its present condition is totally +unfit for Divine service. Having secured the living, Mr. Walden will +make the restoration the object of his own personal care, and will +also be pleased to reimburse Sir Morton Pippitt for any outlay to +which he may have been put in erecting the galvanised roof and other +accessories for the immediate convenience of the parishioners who +have, he understands, already expressed their sense of obligation to +Sir Morton for kindly providing them with such temporary shelter +from the changes of the weather as seemed to be humanely necessary." + +This calm epistle when received at Badsworth Hall, had the effect of +a sudden stiff breeze on the surface of hitherto quiet waters. Sir +Morton Pippitt in a brand-new tweed suit surmounted by a very high, +clean, stiff shirt-collar, was sitting at breakfast in what was +formerly known as the 'great Refectory,' a memory of the days when +Badsworth had been a large and important monastery, but which was +now turned into a modern-antique dining-room,--and as he read, with +the aid of his gold-rimmed spectacles, the curt, chill, severely +polite letter of the 'new parson' he flew into a sudden violent +passion. + +"Damn the fellow!" he spluttered, jumping up in haste and striking +out an arm towards the very direction in which a mild young footman +was just approaching him with a bottle of Worcester sauce on a +tray,--"Damn him!" + +The footman staggered back in terror, and the Worcester sauce reeled +over drunkenly on to the carpet. + +"There you go, you clumsy, gaping idiot!" roared Sir Morton, growing +purple with increasing fury. "Tabitha!" called 'The Riversford +Gazette.' If Sir Morton had a pig killed, the fact was duly notified +to an admiring populace in the 'Riversford Gazette.' If he took a +prize in cabbages at the local vegetable and flower show, the +'Riversford Gazette' had a column about it. If he gave a tennis- +party, there were two columns, describing all the dresses of the +ladies, the prowess of the 'champions' and the 'striking and jovial +personality' of Sir Morton Pippitt. And if the fact of that +'striking and jovial personality' were not properly insisted upon, +Sir Morton went himself to see the editor of the 'Riversford +Gazette,' an illiterate tuft-hunting little man,--and nearly +frightened him into fits. He had asserted himself in this kind of +autocratic fashion ever since he had purchased Badsworth, when he +was still in his forties,--and it may be well imagined that at the +age of sixty he was not prepared to be thwarted, even in a matter +wherein he had no real concern. The former rector of St. Rest, an +ailing, nervous and exceedingly poor creature, with a large family +to keep, had been only too glad and ready to do anything Sir Morton +Pippitt wished, for the sake of being invited to dine at the Hall +once a week,--it was therefore a very unexpected and disagreeable +experience for the imperious Bone-melter to learn that the new +incumbent was not at all disposed to follow in the steps of his +predecessor, but, on the contrary, was apparently going to insist on +having his own way with as much emphasis as Sir Morton Pippitt +himself. + +"I shall soon bring that fellow to his senses," declared Sir Morton, +on the eventful morning which first saw the gage of battle thrown +down; "I shall teach him that, parson or no parson, he will have to +respect my authority! God bless my seoul! Does he think I'm going to +be dictated to at my time of life?" + +He addressed these observations to his daughter, Miss Tabitha +Pippitt, but whether she heard them or not was scarcely apparent. At +any rate, she did not answer. Having finished her breakfast, she +pulled out some knitting from an embroidered bag hanging at her side +and set her needles clicketing, while her father, redder in the face +and more implacable of mood than ever, went out to see what he could +do to save his galvanised iron roof from the hand of the spoiler. + +But, as he might have known, if his irascibility had allowed him to +weigh the pros and cons of the situation, his 'authority' was of no +avail. An angry letter to the Bishop of the diocese only drew forth +a curt reply from the Bishop's secrebones of defunct animals into a +convenient mixture wherewith to make buttons and other useful +articles of hardware, bought it, as the saying goes, 'for a mere +song.' Through his easy purchase he became possessed of the +Badsworth ancestry, as shown in their pictures hanging on the +dining-room walls and in the long oak-panelled picture gallery. Lady +Madeline Badsworth, famous for her beauty in some remote and +chivalrous past, gazed down at Sir Morton while he sat at meals, +suggesting to the imaginative beholder a world of scorn in her +lovely painted eyes,--and a heroic young Badsworth who had perished +at the battle of Marston Moor, stood proudly out of one of the dark +canvases, his gauntleted hand on the hilt of his sword and a smile +of pained wrath on his lips, as one who should say, beholding the +new possessor of his ancient home 'To such base uses must we come at +last!' + +Surrounded by gold-framed Badsworths, young and old, Sir Morton ate +his fried bacon and 'swilled' his tea, with a considerable noise in +swallowing, getting gradually redder in the face as he proceeded +with his meal. He was by no means a bad-looking old gentleman,--his +sixty years sat lightly upon his broad shoulders, and he was tall +and well set up, though somewhat too stout in what may be politely +called the 'lower chest' direction. His face was plump, florid and +clean-shaven, and what hair he still possessed was of a pleasantly- +bright silver hue. The first impression he created was always one of +kindness and benevolence,--the hearts of women especially invariably +went out to him, and murmurs of 'What a dear old man!' and 'What a +darling old man!' frequently escaped lips feminine in softest +accents. He was very courtly to women,--when he was not rude; and +very kind to the poor,--when he was not mean. His moods were +fluctuating; his rages violent; his temper obstinate. When he did +not succeed in getting his own way, his petulant sulks resembled +those of a spoilt child put in a corner, only they lasted longer. +There was one shop in Riversford which he had not entered for ten +years, because its owner had ventured, with trembling respect, to +contradict him on a small matter. Occasionally he could be quite the +'dear darling old man' his lady admirers judged him to be,--but +after all, his servants knew him best. To them, 'Sir Morton was a +caution.' And that is precisely what he was; the definition entirely +summed up his character. He had one great passion,--the desire to +make himself 'the' most important person in the county, and to be +written about in the local paper, a hazy and often ungrammatical +organ For the chancel appeared to demand special reverence, from the +nature of a wonderful discovery made in it during the work of +restoration,--a discovery which greatly helped to sustain and +confirm the name of both church and village as 'St. Rest,' and to +entirely disprove the frequently-offered suggestion that it could +ever have been meant for 'St. East.' And this is how the discovery +happened. + +One never-to-be-forgotten morning when the workmen were hewing away +at the floor of the chancel, one of their pickaxes came suddenly in +contact with a hard substance which gave back a metallic echo when +the blow of the implement came down upon it. Working with caution, +and gradually clearing away a large quantity of loose stones, broken +pieces of mosaic and earth, a curious iron handle was discovered +attached to a large screw which was apparently embedded deep in the +ground. Walden was at once informed of this strange 'find' and +hastened to the spot to examine the mysterious object. He was not +very long in determining its nature. + +"This is some very ancient method of leverage," he said, turning +round to the workmen with an excitement he could barely conceal; +"There is something precious underneath in the ground,--something +which can probably be raised by means of this handle and screw. Dig +round it about a yard away from the centre,--loosen the earth +gently--be very careful!" + +They obeyed; and all that day Walden stood watching them at work, +his mind divided between hope and fear, and his spirit moved by the +passionate exultation of the antiquary whose studies and researches +are about to be rewarded with unexpected treasure. Towards sunset +the men came upon a large oblong piece of what appeared to be +alabaster, closely inlaid with patterns of worn gold and bearing on +its surface the sculptured emblems of a cross, a drawn sword and a +crown of laurel leaves intertwisted with thorns, the whole most +elaborately wrought, and very little injured. As this slowly came to +light, Walden summoned all hands to assist him in turning the great +iron screw which now stood out upright, some three or four feet from +the aperture they had been digging. Wondering at his 'fancy' as they +termed it, they however had full reliance on his proved knowledge of +what he was about, and under his guidance they all applied +themselves to the quaint and cumbrous iron handle which had been the +first thing discovered, and with considerable difficulty began to +day to the effect that as the Reverend John Walden was now the +possessor of the living of St. Rest and had furthermore obtained a +'faculty' for the proper restoration of the church, which was to be +carried out at the said John Walden's own risk and personal +expenditure, the matter was not open to any outside discussion. +Whereat, Sir Morton's fury became so excessive that he actually shut +up Badsworth Hall and went away for a whole year, greatly to the +relief of the editor of the 'Riversford Gazette,' who was able to +dismiss him with a comfortable paragraph, thus: + +"Sir Morton Pippitt has left Badsworth Hall for a tour round the +world. Miss Pippitt accompanies her distinguished father." + +Then followed a spell of peace;--and the restoration of the church +at St. Rest was quietly proceeded with. Lovingly, and with tenderest +care for every stone, every broken fragment, John Walden pieced +together the ruined shrine of ancient days, and managed at last to +trace and recover the whole of the original plan. It had never been +a large building, its proportions being about the same as those of +Roslin Chapel, near Edinburgh. The task of restoration was costly, +especially when carried out with such perfection and regard to +detail,--but Walden grudged nothing to make it complete, and +superintended the whole thing himself, rejecting all the semi- +educated suggestions of the modern architect, and faithfully +following out the ideas of the particular period in which the church +was originally designed by those to whom the building of a 'God's +House' was a work of solemn prayer and praise. The ancient stones +were preserved, and wherever modern masonry was used, it was +cunningly worked in to look as time-worn as the Norman walls, while +the lancet windows were filled with genuine old stained glass +purchased by degrees from different parts of England, each fragment +being properly authenticated. A groined roof, simple yet noble in +outline, covered in the building; ornamented with delicately rounded +mouldings alternated with hollows so planned as to give the most +forcible effects of light and shade according to the style of +English Early Pointed work, and the only thing that was left +incomplete was the pierced circular window above the chancel, which +Walden sought to fill with stained glass of such indubitable +antiquity and beauty of design that he was only able to secure it +bit by bit at long intervals. While engaged in collecting this, he +judged it best to fill the window with ordinary clear glass rather +than put in inferior stuff. age system exactly in the middle of the +chancel, fronting the altar, we will let it remain there and occupy +its own original place. The chancel could not have a grander +ornament! + +And so, in the middle of the chancel, between the altar and the +steps which separated that part of the church from the main body of +the building, the mysterious undated relic lay under the warm light +of the eastern window, and people who were interested in antiquities +came from far and near to see it, though they could make no more of +it than Walden himself had done. The cross and sword might possibly +indicate martyrdom; the laurels and thorn fame. Certainly there were +no signs that the dumb occupant of that sealed coffer was a monarch +of merely earthly power and state. When the alabaster came to be +thoroughly cleansed and polished, part of the inscription could be +deciphered in the following letters of worn gold: + +Sancta. vixit. Sancta obit.. In. coelum.. sanctorum., +transmigravit... In Resurrectione Sanctorum resurget M.. Beatse. +ma.. R. + +But to what perished identity these significant words applied +remained an impenetrable mystery. Every old record was carefully +searched,--every scrap of ancient history wherein the neighbourhood +of St. Rest had ever been concerned was turned over and over by the +patient and indefatigable John Walden, who followed up many +suggestive tracks eagerly and lost them again when apparently just +on the point of finding some sure clue,--till at last he gave up the +problem in despair and contented himself and his parishioners by +accepting the evident fact that in the old church at one time or +another some saint or holy abbot had been buried,--hence the name of +St. Rest or 'The Saint's Rest,' which had become attached to the +village. But at what exact period such saint or abbot had lived and +died, was undiscoverable. + +When the restoration of the sacred shrine was completed, and an +expectant congregation filled it to overflowing to assist at the +solemn service of its re-dedication to the worship of God, not one +among them all but was deeply impressed by the appearance of the +restored chancel, with its beautiful columns and delicate capitals, +arching like a bower of protection over the altar, and over that +wonderful white sarcophagus lying turn it round and round. As they +proceeded laboriously in this task, while the screw creaked and +groaned under the process with a noise as of splitting timber, all +at once the oblong slab of alabaster moved, and rose upward about an +inch. + +"To it, boys!" cried Walden, his eyes sparkling; "To it again, and +harder! We shall have it with us in an hour!" + +And truly, in somewhat less than an hour the strange old-world lever +had lifted what it must often have lifted in a similar way in bygone +years,--a magnificent and perfectly preserved sarcophagus, measuring +some six or seven feet long by three feet wide, covered with +exquisite carving at the sides, representing roses among thorns, the +flowers having evidently at one time been centred with gems and +which even now bore traces of gold. Round the lid there was some dim +lettering which was scarcely discernible,--the lid itself was firmly +closed and strongly cemented. + +Exclamations of wonder, admiration, and excitement broke from all +who had been engaged in the work of excavation, and presently the +whole village ran out to see the wonderful relic of a forgotten +past, all chattering, all speculating, all staring, Walden alone +stood silent; his head bared,--his hands clasped. He knew that only +some great saint or holy recluse could have ever been so royally +enshrined in ancient days, and the elaborate system of leverage used +seemed to prove that the body laid within that wrought alabaster and +gold must have been considered to be of that peculiar nature termed +'miraculous,' and worthy to be lifted from its resting-place into +the chancel on certain particular occasions for the homage and +reverence of the people. The sun poured down upon the beautiful +object lying there,--on the groups of workmen who, instinctively +imitating Walden's example, had bared their heads,--on the wrinkled +worn faces of old village men and women,--on the bright waving locks +of young girls, and the clear enquiring eyes of children, all gazing +at the strange treasure-trove their ruined church had given up to +the light of a modern day. Presently the chief workman, asked Walden +in a hushed voice: + +"Shall we break it open, sir?" + +"No,--never!" replied Walden gently but firmly; "That would be +sacrilege. We may not lightly disturb the dead! The ashes enshrined +in this wonderful casket must be those of one who was dear to the +old-time church. They shall rest in peace. And as this sarcophagus +is evidently fixed by its leversouls, and awakening them to hopeful +considerations of a happier end than the mere grave." + +Ten years, however, had now passed since John Walden had bought the +living, and of these ten years three had been occupied in the +restoration of the church, so that seven had elapsed since it had +been consecrated. And during those seven years not once had Bishop +Brent been seen again in St. Rest. He remained in the thoughts of +the people as an indefinable association with whom they would fain +have had more to do. Sir Morton Pippitt had passed from the sixties +into the seventies, very little altered;--still upright, still +inflexible and obstinate of temperament, he ruled the neighbourhood, +Riversford especially, as much as was possible to him now that much +of the management of St. Rest had passed under the quieter, but no +less firm authority of John Walden, whose will was nearly always +found in intellectually balanced opposition to his. The two seldom +met. Sir Morton was fond of 'county' society; Walden loathed it. +Moreover, Miss Tabitha, wearing steadily on towards fifty, had, as +the saying is, secretly 'set her cap' at the Reverend John; and the +mere sight of the sedately-amorous spinster set his nerves on edge. +Devoting himself strictly to his duties, to the care of the church, +to the interests of his parishioners, young and old, to the +cultivation of his garden, and to the careful preservation of all +the natural beauties of the landscape around him,--John lived very +much the life of a 'holy man' of mediaeval days; while Sir Horton +built and 'patronised' a hospital at Riversford, gave several prizes +for cabbages and shooting competitions, occasionally patted the +heads of a few straggling school-children, fussed round among his +scattered tenantry, and wrote paragraphs about his own 'fine +presence and open-hearted hospitality' for publication in the +'Riversford Gazette' whenever he entertained a house party at +Badsworth Hall, which he very frequently did. He kept well in touch +with London folk, and to London folk he was fond of speaking of St. +Rest as 'my' little village. But when London folk came to enquire +for themselves as to the nature of his possession, they invariably +discovered that it was not Sir Morton's little village at all but +the Reverend John's little village. Hence arose certain +discrepancies and cross-currents of feeling, leading to occasional +mild friction and 'local' excitement. Up to the present time, +however, Walden had on the whole lived a tranquil life, such as best +suited his tranquil and philosophic temperament, and his occasional +'brushes' with. snow-like in the rays of the sun, which flashed +clear on its stray bits of gold and broken incrustation of gems, +sending a straight beam through the eastern window on the one word +'Resurget' like a torch of hope from beyond the grave. + +Bishop Brent, Walden's old college friend, came to perform the +ceremony of consecration, and this was the first time the +inhabitants of St. Rest had seen a real Bishop for many years. Much +excitement did his presence create in that quiet woodland dell, the +more especially as he proved to be a Bishop somewhat out of the +common. Tall and attenuated in form, he had a face which might +almost be called magnetic, so alive was its expression,--so intense +and passionate was the light of the deep dark melancholy eyes that +burned from under their shelving brows like lamps set in a high +watch-tower of intellect. When he preached, his voice, with its deep +mellow cadence, thrilled very strangely to the heart,--and every +gesture, every turn of his head, expressed the activity of the keen +soul pent up within his apparently frail body. The sermon he gave on +the occasion of the re-dedication of the Church of St. Rest was +powerful and emotional, but scarcely orthodox--and therefore was not +altogether pleasing to Sir Morton Pippitt. He chose as his text: +"Behold I show you a mystery; we shall not sleep, but we shall all +be changed;" and on this he expatiated, setting forth the joys of +the spiritual life as opposed to the physical,--insisting on the +positive certainty of individual existence after death, and weaving +into his discourse some remarks on the encoffined saint whose +sarcophagus had been unearthed from its long-hidden burial-place and +set again where it had originally stood, in the middle of the +chancel. He spoke in hushed and solemn tones of the possibility of +the holy spirit of that unknown one being present among them that +day, helping them in their work, joining in their prayers of +consecration and perhaps bestowing upon them additional blessing. At +which statement, given with poetic earnestness and fervour, Sir +Morton stared, breathed hard and murmured in his daughter's ear "A +Roman! The man is a Roman!" + +But notwithstanding Sir Morton Pippitt's distaste for the manner in +which the Bishop dealt with his subject, and his numerous allusions +to saints in heaven and their probable guardianship of their friends +on earth, the sermon was a deeply impressive one and lingered long +in the memories of those who had heard it, softening their hearts, +inspiring their for the news of her coming. It is the one cloud in +an otherwise clear sky! + +The young moon swinging lazily downward to the west, looked upon him +as though she smiled. A little bat scurried past in fear and hurled +itself into the dewy masses of foliage bordering the edge of the +lawn. And from the reeds and sedges fringing the river beyond, there +came floating a long whispering murmur that swept past his ears and +died softly into space, as of a voice that had something strange and +new to say, which might not yet be said. Sir Morton only served to +give piquancy and savour to the quiet round of his daily habits. +Now, all unexpectedly, there was to be a break,--a new source of +unavoidable annoyance in the intrusion of a feminine authority,--a +modern Squire-ess, who no doubt would probably bring modern ways +with her into the little old-world place,--who would hunt and shoot +and smoke,--perhaps even swear at her grooms,--who could tell? She +would not, she could not interfere with, the church, or its +minister, were she ever so much Miss Vancourt of Abbot's Manor,--but +she could if she liked 'muddle about' with many other matters, and +there could be no doubt that as the visible and resident mistress of +the most historic house in the neighbourhood, she would be what is +called 'a social influence.' + +"And not for good!" mused John Walden, during a meditative stroll in +his garden on the even of the May-day on. which he had heard the +disturbing news; "Certainly not for good!" + +He raised his eyes to the sky where the curved bow of a new moon +hung clear and bright as a polished sickle. All was intensely still. +The day had been a very busy one for him;--the children's dinner and +their May-games had kept his hands full, and not till sunset, when +the chimes of the church began to ring for evening service, had he +been able to snatch a moment to himself for quiet contemplation. The +dewy freshness of the garden, perfumed by the opening blossoms of +the syringa, imparted its own sense of calm and grave repose to his +mind,--and as he paced slowly up and down the gravel walk in front +of his study window watching the placid beauty of the deepening +night, a slight sigh escaped him. + +"It cannot be for good!" he repeated, regretfully; "A woman trained +as she must have been trained since girlhood, with all her finer +perceptions blunted by perpetual contact with the assertive and +ostentatious evidences of an excess of wealth,--probably surrounded +too by the pitiful vulgarisms of a half-bred American society, too +ignorant to admit or recognise its own limitations,--she must have +almost forgotten the stately traditions of the fine old family she +springs from. One must not expect the motto of 'noblesse oblige' to +weigh with modern young women--more's the pity! I'm afraid the +mistress of Abbot's Manor will be a disturbing element in the +village, breeding discontent and trouble where there has been till +now comparative peace, and a fortunate simplicity of life. I'm +sorry! This would have been a perfect First of May but Ha-ha-ha-ha!" +And he broke into a laugh so joyous and mellow that Bainton found it +quite irresistible and joined in it with a deep "Hor-hor-hor!" +evoked from the hollow of his throat, and beginning loudly, but +dying away into a hoarse intermittent chuckle. + +"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed the Reverend John again, throwing back his head +with a real enjoyment in his capability for laughter; "You did quite +right to disturb me, Bainton,--quite right! Where are Sir Morton and +his party? What are they doing?" + +"They was jes' crossin' the churchyard when I spied 'em," answered +Bainton; "An' Sir Morton was makin' some very speshul observations +of his own on the 'herly Norman period.' Hor-hor-hor! An' they've +got ole Putty Leveson with 'em--" + +"Bainton!" interrupted Walden severely; "How often must I tell you +that you should not speak of the rector of Badsworth in that +disrespectful manner?" + +"Very sorry, sir!" said Bainton complacently; "But if one of the +names of a man 'appens to be Putwood an' the man 'imself is as fat +as a pig scored for roastin' 'ole, what more natrul than the pet +name of 'Putty' for 'im? No 'arm meant, I'm sure, Passon!--Putty's +as good as Pippitt any day!" + +Walden suppressed his laughter with an effort. He was very much of a +boy at heart, despite his forty odd years, and the quaint +obstinacies of his gardener amused him too much to call for any +serious remonstrance. Turning back to his study he took his hat and +cane from their own particular corner of the room and started for +the little clap gate which Bainton had been, as he said, 'keeping +his eye on.' + +"No more work to-day," he said, with an air of whimsical +resignation; "But I may possibly get one or two hints for my +sermon!" + +He strode off, and Bainton watched him go. As the clap gate opened +and swung to again, and his straight athletic figure disappeared, +the old gardener still stood for a moment or two ruminating. + +"What a blessin' he ain't married!" he said thoughtfully; "A +blessin' to the village, an' a blessin' to 'imself! He'd a bin a +fine man spoilt, if a woman 'ad ever got 'old on 'im,--a fine man +spoilt, jes' like me!" + +An appreciative grin at his own expense spread among the furrows of +his face at this consideration;--then he trotted + + + + +IV + + +Two days later on, when Walden was at work in his own room seriously +considering the points of his sermon for the coming Sunday, his +'head man about the place,' Bainton, made a sudden appearance on the +lawn and abruptly halted there, looking intently up at the sky, as +though taking observations of a comet at noon. This was a customary +trick of his resorted to whenever he wished to intrude his presence +during forbidden hours. John saw him plainly enough from where he +sat busily writing, though for a few minutes he pretended not to +see. But as Bainton remained immovable and apparently rooted to the +ground, and as it was likely that there he would remain till +positively told to go, his master made a virtue of necessity, and +throwing down his pen, went to the window. Bainton thereupon +advanced a little, but stopped again as though irresolute. Walden +likewise paused a moment, then at last driven to bay by the old +gardener's pertinacity, stepped out. + +"Now what is it, Bainton?" he said, endeavouring to throw a shade of +sternness into his voice; "You know very well I hate being disturbed +while I'm writing." + +Bainton touched his cap respectfully. + +"Now don't go for to say as I'm disturbing on ye, Passon," he +remonstrated, mildly; "I ain't said a mortal wurrd! I was onny jes' +keepin' my eye on the clap gate yonder, in case the party in the +churchyard might walk through, thinkin' it a right-o'-way. Them +swagger folk ain't got no sort of idee as to respectin' private +grounds." + +Walden's eyes flashed. + +"A party in the churchyard?" he repeated. "Who are they?" + +"Who should they be?" And Bainton's rugged features expressed a +sedate mingling of the shrewd and the contemptnous that was quite +amazing. "Worn't you expectin' distinguished visitors some day this +week, sir?" + +"I know!" exclaimed Walden quickly; "Sir Morton Pippitt and his +guests have come to 'inspect' the church!" + +There was a pause, during which Walden, baring his head as he passed +in, entered the sacred edifice. He became aware of Sir Morton +Pippitt standing in the attitude of a University Extension lecturer +near the sarcophagus in the middle of the chancel, with the Reverend +Mr. Leveson and a couple of other men near him, while two more +strangers were studying the groined roof with critical curiosity. As +he approached, Sir Morton made a rapid sign to his companions and +stepped down from the chancel. + +"Glad to see you, Mr. Walden," he said in a loud whisper, and with +an elaborate affectation of great heartiness; "I have brought His +Grace the Duke of Lumpton to see the church." + +Walden allowed his calm blue eyes to rest quietly on His Grace the +Duke of Lumpton without much interest. His Grace was an undersized +fat man, with a bald head and a red face, and on Walden's being +presented to him, merely nodded with a patronisingly casual air. + +"Lord Mawdenham,"--continued Sir Morton, swelling visibly with just +pride at his own good fortune in being able to introduce a Lord +immediately after a Duke, and offering Walden, as it were, with an +expressive wave of his hand, to a pale young gentleman, who seemed +seriously troubled by an excess of pimples on his chin, and who +plucked nervously at one of these undesirable facial addenda as his +name was uttered. Walden acknowledged his presence with silent +composure, as he did the wide smile and familiar nod of his brother +minister, the Reverend 'Putty,' whose truly elephantine proportions +were encased in a somewhat too closely fitting bicycle suit, and +whose grand-pianoforte shaped legs and red perspiring face together, +presented a most unclerical spectacle of the 'Church at large.' + +The two gentlemen who had been studying the groined roof, now +brought their glances to bear on Walden, and one of them, a youngish +man with a crop of thick red hair and a curiously thin, hungry face, +spoke without waiting for Sir Morton's cue. + +"Mr. Walden? Ye-es!--I felt sure it must be Mr. Walden! Let me +congratulate you, sir, on your exquisite devotional work here! The +church is beau-ti-ful--beau-ti-ful! A sonnet in stone! A sculptured +prayer! Ye-es! It is so! Permit me to press your hand!" + +John smiled involuntarily. There was a quaint affectation about the +speaker that was quite irresistibly entertaining. + +"Mr. Julian Adderley is a poet," said Sir Morton, whispering this in +a jocose stage aside; "Everything is 'beautiful' to him!" + +Mr. Julian Adderley smiled faintly, and fixed a pair of rather fine +grey eyes on Walden with a mute appeal, as one who should say with +Hamlet 'These tedious old fools!' Meanwhile Sir Morton Pippitt had +secured the last member of his party affectionately by the arm, and +continuing his stage whisper said: + +"Permit me, Mr. Walden! This is one of our greatest London literary +lights! He will particularly appreciate anything you may he good +enough to tell him respecting your work of restoration here--Mr. +Marius Longford, of the Savile and Savage clubs!" + +Mr. Marius Longford, of the Savile and Savage clubs, bent his head +with an air of dignified tolerance. He was an angular personage, +with a narrow head, and a face cleanly shaven, except at the sides +where two small pussy-cat whiskers fringed his sharply defined jaws. +He had a long thin mouth, and long thin slits for his eyes to peep +through,--they would have been eyelids with other people, but with +him they were merely slits. He was a particularly neat man in +appearance--his clothes were well brushed, his linen spotless, his +iron-grey hair sleek, and his whole appearance that of a man well +satisfied with his own exterior personality. Walden glanced at this +great London literary light as indifferently as he would have +glanced at an incandescent lamp in the street, or other mechanical +luminary. He had not as yet spoken a word. Sir Morton had done all +the talking; but the power of silence always overcomes in the end, +and John's absolute non-committal of himself to any speech, had at +last the effect he desired--namely that of making Sir Morton appear +a mere garrulous old interloper, and his 'distinguished' friends +somewhat of the cheap tripper persuasion. The warm May sun poured +through the little shrine of prayer, casting flickers of gold and +silver on the 'Saint at Rest' before the altar, and showering azure +and rose patterns through the ancient stained glass which filled the +side lancet windows. The stillness became for the moment intense and +almost oppressive,--Sir Morton Pippitt fidgeted uneasily, pulled at +his high starched collar and became red in the face,--the Reverend +'Putty' forgot himself so far as to pinch one of his own legs and +hum a little tune, while the rest of the party waited for the +individual whom their host had so frequently called 'the damned +parson' to speak. The tension was relieved by the sudden quiet +entrance of a young woman carrying a roll of music. Seeing the group +of persons in the chancel, she paused in evident uncertainty. Walden +glanced at her, and his composed face all at once lighted up with +that kindly smile which in such moments made him more than +ordinarily handsome. + +"Come along, Miss Eden," he said in a low clear tone; "You are quite +at liberty to practise as usual. Sir Morton Pippitt and his friends +will not disturb you." + +Miss Eden smiled sedately and bent her head, passing by the visitors +with an easy demeanour and assured step, and made her way to where +the organ, small, but sweet and powerful, occupied a corner near +the chancel. While she busied herself in opening the instrument and +arranging her musics Walden took advantage of the diversion created +by her entrance to address himself to the knight Pippitt. + +"If I can be of service to your friends in explaining anything about +the church they may wish, to know, pray command me, Sir Morton," he +said. "But I presume that you and Mr, Leveson"--here he glanced at +the portly 'Putty' with a slight smile--"have pointed out all that +is necessary." + +"On the contrary!" said Mr. Marius Longford 'of the Savile and +Savage,' with a smoothly tolerant air; "We are really quite in the +dark! Do we understand, for example, that the restoration of this +church is entirely due to your generosity, or to assistance from +public funds and subscriptions?" + +"The restoration is due, not to my 'generosity,'" replied Walden, +"but merely to my sense of what is fitting for Divine service. I +have had no assistance from any fund or from any individual, because +I have not sought it." + +There was a pause, during which Mr. Longford fixed a pair of gold- +rimmed glasses on his nose and gazed quizzically through them at Sir +Morton Pippitt, whose countenance had grown uncomfortably purple in +hue either with exterior heat or inward vexation. + +"I thought. Sir Morton," he began slowly, when Mr. Leveson adroitly +interrupted him by the query: + +"Now what period would you fix, Mr. Longford, for this sarcophagus? +I am myself inclined to think it of the fourteenth century." + +A soft low strain of music here crept through, the church,--the +village schoolmistress was beginning her practice. She had a +delicate touch, and the sounds her fingers pressed from the organ- +keys were full, and solemn and sweet. His Grace the Duke of Lumpton +coughed loudly; he hated music, and always made some animal noise of +his own to drown it. + +"What matters the period!" murmured Julian Adderley, running his +thin hand through his thick hair. "Is it not sufficient to see it +here among us, with us, OF us?" + +"God bless my soul! I hope it is not OF us!" spluttered Sir Morton +with a kind of fat chuckle which seemed to emanate from his stiff +collar rather than from his throat; "'Ashes to ashes' of course; we +are all aware of that--but not just yet!--not just yet!" + +"I am unable to fix the period satisfactorily to my own mind," said +Walden, quietly ignoring both Sir Morton and his observations on the +Beyond; "though I have gone through considerable research with +respect to the matter. So I do not volunteer any opinion. There is, +however, no doubt that at one time the body contained in that coffer +must have been of the nature termed by the old Church 'miraculous.' +That is to say, it must have been supposed to be efficacious in +times of plague or famine, for there are several portions of the +alabaster which have evidently been worn away by the frequent +pressure or touch of hands on the surface. Probably in days when +this neighbourhood was visited by infection, drought, floods or +other troubles, the priests raised the coffin by the system of +leverage which we discovered when excavating (and which is still in +working order) and allowed the people to pass by and lay their hands +upon it with a special prayer to be relieved of their immediate +sickness or sorrow. There were many such 'miraculous' shrines in the +early part of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries." + +"Exactly," said Mr. Longford; "I imagine you may be right, Mr. +Walden; it is evidently a relic of the very earliest phases of the +Christian myth." + +As he spoke the last words Walden looked straightly at him. A fine +smile hovered on his lips. + +"It is as you say," he rejoined calmly--"It is a visible token of +the time when men believed in an Unseen Force more potent than +themselves." + +The Duke of Lumpton coughed noisily again, and his friend, Lord +Mawdenham, who up to the present had occupied the time in staring +vaguely about him and anxiously feeling his pimples, said hurriedly: + +"Oh, look here, Sir Morton--er--I say,--er--hadn't we better be +going? There's Lady Elizabeth Messing coming to lunch and you know +she can't bear to be kept waiting-never do, you know, not to be +there to see her when she arrives--he-he-he! We should never get +over it in London or out of London--'pon my life!--I do assure you!" + +Sir Morton's chest swelled;--his starched collar crackled round his +expanding throat, and his voice became richly resonant as under the +influential suggestion of another 'titled' personage, he replied: + +"Indeed, you are right, my dear Lord Mawdenham! To keep Lady +Elizabeth waiting would be an unpardonable offence against all the +proprieties! Hum--ha--er--yes!--against all the proprieties! Mr. +Walden, we must go! Lady Elizabeth Messing is coming to lunch with +us at Badsworth. You have no doubt heard of her--eldest daughter of +the Earl of Charrington!--yes, we must really be going! I think I +may say, may I not, your Grace?"--here he bent towards the ducal +Lumpton--"that we are all highly pleased with the way in which Mr. +Waldon has effected the restoration of the church?" + +"Oh, I don't know anything at all about it!" replied His Grace, with +the air of a sporting groom; "I've no taste at all in churches, and +I'm not taking any on old coffins! It's a nice little chapel--just +enough for a small village I should say. After all, don't-cher-know, +you only want very little accommodation for a couple of hundred +yokels; and whether it's old or new architecture doesn't matter to +'em a brass farthing!" + +These observations were made with a rambling air of vague self- +assertiveness which the speaker evidently fancied would pass for wit +and wisdom. Walden said nothing. His brow was placid, and his +countenance altogether peaceful. He was listening to the solemnly +sweet flow of a Bach prelude which Miss Eden was skilfully +unravelling on the organ, the notes rising and falling, and anon +soaring up again like prayerful words striving to carry themselves +to heaven. + +"I think," said Mr. Marius Longford weightily, "that whatever fault +the building may have from a strictly accurate point of view,--which +is a matter I am not prepared to go into without considerable time +given for due study and consideration,--it is certainly the most +attractive edifice of its kind that I have seen for some time. It +reflects great credit on you, Mr. Walden;--no doubt the work gave +you much personal pleasure!" + +"It certainly did so," replied John,--"and I'm afraid I am arrogant +enough to be satisfied with the general result so far as it goes,-- +with the exception of the eastern window, of course!" + +"Ah, that eastern window!" sighed the Reverend 'Putty' with an air +of aesthetic languor which was in comical contrast with his coarse +and commonplace appearance; "That is a sad, sad flaw! A terrible +incongruity!" + +"I made up my mind from the first," pursued Walden, his equable +voice seeming to float pleasantly on the tide of music with which +the little sanctuary was just then filled; "that nothing but the +most genuine and authentic old stained glass should fill that fine +circular rose carving, and those lance apertures; so I am collecting +it slowly, bit by bit, for this purpose. It will take time and +patience, no doubt,--but I think and hope that success will be the +end of the task I have set myself. In the meantime, of course, the +effect of plain glass where there should be only the richest +colouring is decidedly 'crude'!" + +He smiled slightly, and there was an uncomfortable pause. Sir Morton +Pippitt took out a voluminous red handkerchief covered with yellow +spots and blew his nose violently therein while the Reverend Mr. +Leveson nodded his large head blandly, as one who receives doubtful +information with kindly tolerance. Mr. Marius Longford looked +faintly amused. + +"I understand!" said the light of the 'Savile and Savage,' slowly; +"You seek perfection!" + +He smiled a pallid smile; but on the whole surveyed Walden with more +interest than he had hitherto done. Julian Adderley, who had during +the last couple of minutes stepped up to the chancel, now stood +gazing at the sarcophagus of the supposed Saint with a kind of +melancholy interest. Reading the only legible words of the +inscription in sotto voce, he sighed drearily. + +"' In--Resurrectione--Sanctorum--Resurget!' How simple!--how new!-- +how fresh! To think that anyone ever held such a child's faith!" + +"The Church is still supposed to hold it," said Walden steadily, +"And her ministers also. Otherwise, religion is a farce, and its +professors much less honest than the trusted servant who steals his +master's money!" + +Marius Longford smiled, and stroked one feline whisker thoughtfully. + +"So you actually believe what you preach!" he murmured--"Strange! +You are more of an antiquity than the consecrated dust enclosed in +that alabaster! Believe me!" + +"Much more,--much, more!" exclaimed the fantastic Adderley; "To +believe in anything at all is so remote!--so very remote!--and yet +so new--so fresh!" + +Walden made no reply. He never argued on religious matters; +moreover, with persons minded in the manner of those before him, it +seemed useless to even offer an opinion. They exchanged meaning +glances with each other, and followed Sir Morton, who was now moving +down the central aisle of the church towards the door of exit, +holding the Duke of Lumpton familiarly by the arm, and accompanied +by Lord Mawdenham. Walden walked silently with them, till, passing +out of the church, they all stood in a group on the broad gravelled +pathway which led to the open road, where the Pippitt equipage, a +large waggonette and pair, stood waiting, together with a bicycle, +the property of the Reverend Mr. Leveson. + +"Thank you, Mr. Walden!" then said Sir Morton Pippitt with a +grandiose air, as of one who graciously confers a benefit on the +silence by breaking it; "Thank you for--er--for--er--the pleasure of +your company this--er--this morning! My friend, the Duke,--and Lord +Mawdenham--and--er--our rising poet, Mr. Adderley--and--er--Mr. +Longford, have been delighted. Yes--er--delighted! Of course you +know MY opinion! Ha-ha-ha! You know MY opinion! It is the same as it +ever was--I never change! When _I_ have once made up my mind, it is +a fixture! I have said already and I say it again, that the church +was quite good enough for such people as live here, in its original +condition, and that you have really spent a great deal of cash on a +very needless work! I mustn't be rude, no, no, no!--but you know the +old adage: 'Fools and their money!' Ha-ha-ha! But we shan't quarrel. +Oh, dear no! It has cost ME nothing, I am glad to say! Ha-ha! Nor +anybody else! Now, if Miss Vancourt of Abbot's Manor had been here +when you began this restoration business of yours, SHE might have +had something to say--ha-ha-ha! She always has something to say!" + +"You think she would have objected?" queried Walden, coldly. + +"Oh, I won't go so far as that--no!--eh, your Grace--we won't go so +far as that!" + +The Duke of Lumpton, thus suddenly adjured, looked round, and smiled +vacantly. + +"Won't go so far as what?" he asked; "Didn't catch it!" + +"I was talking of Maryllia Vancourt," said Sir Morton with a kind of +fatuous leer; "YOU know her, of course!--everyone knows her more or +less. Charming girl!--charming! Maryllia Van!--ha-ha!" + +And Sir Morton laughed and leered again till certain veins, moved by +cerebral emotion, protruded largely on his forehead. His Grace +laughed also, but shortly and indifferently. + +"Oh, ya-as--ya-as! She's the one who's just had a rumpus with her +rich American aunt. I believe they don't speak, After years of +devotion, eh? So like women, ain't it!" + +The Reverend 'Putty' Leveson, who had been stooping over his bicycle +to set something right that was invariably going wrong with that +particular machine, and who was redder than ever in the face with +his efforts, now looked up. + +"Miss Vancourt is coming back to the Manor to reside there, so I +hear," he said. "Very dull for a woman accustomed to London and +Paris. I expect she'll stay about ten days." + +"One never knows--one cannot tell!" sighed Julian Adderley. +"Sometimes to the satiated female mind, overwrought with social +dissipation, there comes a strange longing for peace!--for the scent +of roses!--for the yellow shine of cowslips!--for the song of the +mating birds!--for the breath of cows!" + +Mr. Marius Longford smiled, and picked a tall buttercup nodding in +the grass at his feet. + +"Such aspirations in the fair sex are absolutely harmless," he said; +"Let us hope the lady's wishes may find their limit in a soothing +pastoral!" "Ha-ha-ha!" laughed Sir Morton. "You are deep, my dear +sir, you are very deep! God bless my soul! Deep as a well! No wonder +people are afraid of you! Clever, clever! I'm afraid of you myself! +Come along, come along! Can I assist your Grace?" Here he pushed +aside with a smothered 'Damn!' the footman, who stood holding open +the door of the waggonette, and officiously gave the Duke of Lumpton +a hand to help him into the carriage. "Now, Lord Mawdenham, please! +You next, Mr. Longford! Come, come, Mr. Adderley! Think of Lady +Elizabeth! She will be arriving at the Hall before we are there to +receive her! Terrible, terrible! Come along! We're all ready!" + +Julian Adderley had turned to Walden. + +"Permit me to call and see you alone!" he said. "I cannot just now +appreciate the poetry of your work in the church as I should do--as +I ought to do--as I must do! The present company is discordant!--one +requires the music of Nature,-the thoughts,--the dreams! But no more +at present! I should like to talk with you on many matters some wild +sweet morning,--if you have no objection?" + +Walden was amused. At the same time he was not very eager to respond +to this overture of closer acquaintanceship with one who, by his +dress, manner and method of speech, proclaimed himself a 'decadent' +of the modern school of ethics; but he was nothing if not courteous. +So he replied briefly: + +"I shall be pleased to see you, of course, Mr. Adderley, but I must +warn you that I am a very busy man--I should not be able to give you +much time--" + +"No explanations--I understand!" And Adderley pressed his hand with +enthusiasm. "The very fact that you are busy in a village like this +adds to the peculiar charm of your personality! It is so strange!-- +so new--so fresh!" + +He smiled, and again pressed hands. + +"Good-bye! The mood will send me to you at the fitting moment!" + +He clapped his hat more firmly on his redundant red locks and +clambered into the waiting waggonette. Sir Morton followed him, and +the footman shut to the door of the vehicle with a bang as +unnecessary as his master's previous 'Damn!' + +"Good-morning, Mr. Walden!" then shouted the knight of bone-melting +prowess; "Much obliged to you, I'm sure!" + +Walden raised his hat with brief ceremoniousness, and then as the +carriage rolled away addressed the Reverend Mr. Leveson, who was +throwing himself with hippopotamus-like agility across his bicycle. + +"You follow, I suppose?" + +"Yes. I'm lunching at Badsworth Hall. The Duke wants to consult me +about his family records. You know I'm a bit of an authority on such +points!" + +Walden smiled. + +"I believe you are! But mind you calendar the ducal deeds +carefully," he said. "A slip in the lineal descent of the Lumptons +might affect the whole prestige of the British Empire!" + +A light shone in his clear blue eyes,--a flashing spark of battle. +Leveson stayed his bicycle a moment, wobbling on it uneasily. + +"Lumpton goes back a good way," he said airily; "I shall take him up +when I have gone through the history of the Vancourts. I'm on that +scent now. I shall make a good bit of business directly Miss +Vancourt returns; she'll pay for anything that will help her to +stiffen her back and put more side on." + +"Really!" ejaculated Walden, coldly. "I should have thought her +forebears would have saved her from snobbery." + +"Not a bit of it!" declared Leveson, beginning to start the muscles +of his grand-pianoforte legs with energy; "Rapid as a firework, and +vain as a peacock! Ta!" + +And fixing a small cap firmly on the back of his very large head, he +worked his wheel with treadmill regularity and was soon out of +sight. + +Walden stood alone in the churchyard, lost for a brief space in +meditation. The solemn strains of the organ which the schoolmistress +was still playing, floated softly out from the church to the +perfumed air, and the grave melodious murmur made an undercurrent of +harmony to the clear bright warbling of a skylark, which, beating +its wings against the sunbeams, rose ever higher and higher above +him. + +"What petty souls we are!" he murmured; "Here am I feeling actually +indignant because this fellow Leveson, who has less education and +knowledge than my dog Nebbie, assumes to have some acquaintance with +Miss Vancourt! What does it matter? What business is it of mine? If +she cares to accept information from an ignoramus, what is it to do +with me? Nothing! Yet,--what a blatant ass the fellow is! Upon my +word, it does me good to say it--a blatant ass! And Sir Morton +Pippitt is another!" + +He laughed, and lifting his hat from his forehead, let the soft wind +breathe refreshing coolness on his uncovered hair. + +"There are decided limits to Christian love!" he said, the laughter +still dancing in his eyes. "I defy--I positively defy anyone to love +Leveson! 'The columns and capitals are all wrong' are they?" And he +gave a glance back at the beautiful little church in its exquisite +design and completed perfection."'Out of keeping with early Norman +walls!' Wise Leveson! He ignores all periods of transition as if +they had never existed--as if they had no meaning for the thinker as +well as the architect--as if the movement upward from the Norman, to +the Early Pointed style showed no indication of progress! And +whereas a church should always be a veritable 'sermon in stone' +expressive of the various generations that have wrought their best +on it, he limits himself to the beginning of things! I wonder what +Leveson was in the beginning of things? Possibly an embryo +Megatherium!" + +Broadly smiling, he walked to the gate communicating with his own +garden, opened it, and passed through. Nebbie was waiting for him on +the lawn, and greeted him with the usual effusiveness. He returned +to his desk, and to the composition of his sermon, but his thoughts +were inclined to wander. Sir Morton Pippitt, the Duke of Lumpton, +and Lord Mawdenham hovered before him like three dull puppets in a +cheap show; and he was inclined to look up the name of Marius +Longford in one of the handy guides to contemporary biography, in +order to see if that flaccid and fish-like personage had really done +anything In the world to merit his position as a shining luminary of +the 'Savage and Savile.' Accustomed as he was to watch the ebb and +flow of modern literature, he had not yet sighted either the +Longford straw or the Adderley cork, among the flotsam and jetsam of +that murky tide. And ever and again Sir Morton Pippitt's coarse +chuckle, combined with the covert smiles of Sir Morton's +'distinguished' friends, echoed through his mind in connection with +the approaching dreaded invasion of Miss Vancourt into the happy +quietude of the village of St. Rest, till he experienced a sense of +pain and aversion almost amounting to anger. Why, he asked himself, +seeing she had stayed so long away from her childhood's home, could +she not have stayed away altogether? The swift and brilliant life of +London was surely far more suited to one who, according to 'Putty' +Leveson, was 'rapid as a firework, and vain as a peacock.' But was +'Putty' Leveson always celebrated for accuracy in his statements? +No! Certainly not--yet--" + +Then something seemed to fire him with a sudden resolution, for he +erased the first lines of the sermon he had begun, and altered his +text, which had been: "Glory, honour and peace to every man that +worketh good." And in its place he chose, as a more enticing subject +of discourse: + +"The ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of +God, of great price." + + + + +V + + +The warm bright weather continued. Morning after morning dawned in +unclouded sunshine, and when Saturday concluded the first five days +of the 'May-moneth,' the inhabitants of St. Rest were disposed to +concede that it was just possible they might have what they called +'a spell of fair weather.' Saturday was the general 'cleaning-up +day' in the village--the day when pails of water were set out in +unexpected places for the unwary to trip over; when the old +flagstones poured with soapsuds that trickled over the toes of too- +hasty passers-by; when cottage windows were violently squirted at +with the aid of garden-syringes and hose,--and when Adam Frost, the +sexton, was always to be found meditating, and even surreptitiously +drinking beer, in a quiet corner of the churchyard, because he was +afraid to go home, owing to the persistent housewifely energy of his +better half, who 'washed down' everything, 'cleaned out' everything, +and had, as she forcibly expressed it, 'the Sunday meals on her +mind.' It was a day, too, when Bainton, released from his gardening +duties at the rectory at noon, took a thoughtful stroll by himself, +aware that his 'Missis' was scrubbing the kitchen, and 'wouldn't +have him muckin' about,'--and when John Walden, having finished his +notes for the Sunday's sermon, felt a sense of ease and relief, and +considered himself at liberty to study purely Pagan literature, such +as The Cratylus of Plato. But on this special Saturday he was not +destined to enjoy complete relaxation. Mrs. Spruce had sent an +urgent appeal to him to 'kindly step up to the Manor in the +afternoon.' And Mrs. Spruce's husband, a large, lumbering, simple- +faced old fellow, in a brown jacket and corduroys, had himself come +with the message, and having delivered it, stood on Walden's +threshold, cap in hand, waiting for a reply. John surveyed his +awkward, peasant-like figure with a sense of helplessness,--excuses +and explanations he knew would be utterly lost on an almost deaf +man. Submitting to fate, he nodded his head vigorously, and spoke as +loudly as he judged needful. + +"All right, Spruce! Say I'll come!" + +"Jes' what I told her, sir," answered Spruce, in a remarkably gentle +tone; "It's a bit okkard, but if she doos her dooty, no 'arm can +'appen, no matter if it's all the riches of the yearth." + +John felt more helpless than ever. What was the man talking about? +He drew closer and spoke in a more emphatic key. + +"Look here, Spruce! Tell your wife I'll come after luncheon. Do you +hear? Af-ter lun-cheon!" + +Spruce put one hand to his ear and smiled blandly. + +"Ezackly, sir! I quite agrees with ye; but women are allus a bit +worrity-like, and of course there's a deal to do, and she got +frightened with the keys, and when she saw them fine clothes, and +what not,--so I drawed her a glass of cherry-cordial, an' sez I, +'Now, old 'ooman,' sez I, 'don't skeer yerself into fits. I'll fetch +the passon to ye.' And with that, she seemed easier in her mind. +Lord love ye!--it's a great thing to fetch the passon at once when +there's anything a bit wrong. So, if you'd step up, sir?--" + +Driven almost to despair, Walden put his lips close to the old man's +obstinate ear. + +"Yes," he bellowed--"af-ter lun-cheon! Yes! Ye-es!" + +His reply at last penetrated the closed auricular doors of Spruce's +brain. + +"Thank you, kindly, sir, I'm sure," he said, still in the same meek +and quiet tone. "And if I might make so bold, sir, seein' there's +likely to be changes up at the Manor, if it should be needful to +speak for me and my old 'ooman, p'raps you'd be so good, sir? We +wouldn't like to leave the old place now, sir---" + +His soft, hesitating voice faltered, and he suddenly brushed his +hand across his poor dim eyes. The pathos of this hint was not lost +on Walden, who, forgetting all his own momentary irritation, rose +manfully to the occasion and roared down the old man's ears like one +of the far-famed 'Bulls of Bashan.' + +"Don't worry!" he yelled, his face becoming rapidly crimson with his +efforts; "I'll see you all right! You sha'n't leave the Manor if I +can prevent it! I'll speak for you! Cheer up! Do you hear! Che-er +up!" + +Spruce heard very clearly this time, and smiled. "Thank you, Passon! +God bless you! I'm sure you'll help us, if so be the lady is a hard +one--" + +He trusted himself to say no more, but with a brief respectful +salutation, put on his cap and turned away. + +Left alone, Walden drew a long breath, and wiped his brow. To make +poor old Spruce hear was a powerful muscular exertion. Nebbie had +been so much astonished at the loud pitch of his master's voice, +that he had retired under a sofa in alarm, and only crawled out now +as Spruce departed, with small anxious waggings of his tail. Walden +patted the animal's head and laughed. + +"Mind you don't get deaf in your old age, Nebbie!" he said. "Phew! A +little more shouting like that and I should be unable to preach to- +morrow!" + +Still patting the dog's head, his eyes gradually darkened and his +brow became clouded. + +"Poor Spruce!" he murmured. "'Help him, if so be the lady is a hard +one!' Already in fear of her! I expect they have heard something-- +some ill-report--probably only too correctly founded. Yet, how it +goes against the grain of manhood to realise that any 'lady' may be +'a hard one!' But, alas!--what a multitude of 'hard ones' there are! +Harder than men, perhaps, if all the truth were known!" + +And there was a certain sternness and rooted aversion in him to that +dim approaching presence of the unknown heiress of Abbot's Manor. He +experienced an instinctive dislike of her, and was positively +certain that the vague repugnance would deepen into actual +antipathy. + +"One cannot possibly like everybody," he argued within himself, in +extenuation of what he felt was an unreasonable mental attitude; +"'And modern fashionable women are among the most unlikeable of all +human creatures. Any one of them in such a village as this would be +absurdly out of place." + +Thus self-persuaded, his mood was a singular mixture of pity and +resentment when, in fulfilment of his promise, he walked that +afternoon up the winding road which led to the Manor, and avoiding +the lodge gates, passed through a rustic turnstile he knew well and +so along a path across meadows and through shrubberies to the house. +The path was guarded by a sentinel board marked 'Private. +Trespassers will be prosecuted.' But in all the years he had lived +at St. Rest, he cared nothing for that. As rector of the parish he +had his little privileges. Nebbie trotted at his heels with the air +of a dog accustomed to very familiar surroundings. The grass on +either side was springing up long and green,--delicate little field +flowers were peeping through it here and there, and every now and +then there floated upwards the strong sweet incense of the young +wild thyme. The way he had chosen to walk was known as a 'short cut' +to Abbot's Manor, and ten minutes of easy striding brought him into +the dewy coolness of a thicket of dark firs, at the end of which, +round a sharp turn, the fine old red brick and timbered gables of +the house came into full view. He paused a moment, looking somewhat +regretfully at the picture, warmly lit up by the glow of the bright +sun,--a picture which through long habitude of observation had grown +very sweet to him. It was not every day that such a house as Abbot's +Manor came within reach of the archaeologist and antiquarian. The +beautiful tiled-roof--the picturesque roughness and crookedness of +the architectural lines of the whole building, so different to the +smooth, hard, angular imitations of half-timbered work common in +these degenerate days, were a delight to the eyes to rest upon,--a +wealth of ivy clung thickly to the walls and clambered round the +quaint old chimneys;--some white doves clustered in a group on the +summit of one broad oak gable, were spreading their snowy wings to +the warm sun and discussing their domestic concerns in melodious +cooings;--the latticed windows, some of which in their unspoilt +antiquity of 'horn' panes were a particular feature of the house, +were all thrown open,--but to Walden's sensitive observation there +seemed a different atmosphere about the place,--a suggestion of +change and occupation which was almost startling. + +He paced slowly on, and arrived at the outside gate, which led into +a square old-fashioned court, such as was common to Tudor times, +paved on three sides and planted with formal beds of flowers, the +whole surrounded by an ancient wall. The gate was ajar, and pushing +it open he passed in, glancing for a moment at the grey weather- +beaten sun-dial in the middle of the court which told him it was +three-o'clock. For four centuries, at least, that self-same dial had +marked the hour in that self-same spot, a silent commentary on the +briefness of human existence, as compared with its own strange non- +sentient lastingness. The sound of Walden's footsteps on the old +paving-stones awoke faint echoes, and startled away a robin from a +spray of blossoming briar-rose, and as he walked up to the great +oaken porch of entrance,--a porch heavily carved with the +Vaignecourt or Vancourt emblems, and as deep and wide in its +interior as a small room, an odd sense came over him that he was no +longer an accustomed visitor to a beautiful 'show house,' so much as +a kind of trespasser on forbidden ground. The thick nail-studded +doors, clamped with huge bolts and bars, stood wide open; no servant +was on the threshold to bid him enter, and for a moment he +hesitated, uncertain whether to ring the bell, or to turn back and +go away, when suddenly Mrs. Spruce emerged from a shadowy corner +leading to the basement, and hailed his appearance with an +exclamation of evident relief. + +"Thank the Lord and His goodness, Passon Walden, here you are at +last! I'd made up my mind the silly fool of a Spruce had brought me +the wrong message;--a good meanin' man, but weak in the upper +storey, 'cept where trees is concerned and clearing away brushwood, +when I'd be bold to say he's as handy as they make 'em--but do, for +mercy's sake, Passon, step inside and see how we've got on, for it's +not so bad as it might have been, an' I've seen worse done at a few +days' notice than even myself with hired hands on a suddint could +ever do. Step in, sir, step in!--we're leavin' the door open to let +the sun in a bit to warm the hall, for the old stained glass do but +filter it through at its best; not but that we ain't had a fire in +it night and mornin' ever since we had Miss Vancourt's letter." + +Walden made no attempt to stem the flow of the worthy woman's +discourse. From old experience, he knew that to be an impossible +task. So he stepped in as he was bidden, and looked round the grand +old hall, decorated with ancient armour, frayed banners and worn +scutcheons, feeling regretfully that perhaps he was looking at it so +for the last time. No one more than he had appreciated the simple +dignity of its old-world style, or had more correctly estimated the +priceless value of the antique oak panelling that covered its walls. +He loved the great ingle-nook, set deep back as it were, in the very +bosom of the house, with its high and elaborately carved benches on +each side, and its massive armorial emblems wrought in black oak, +picked out with tarnished gold, crimson and azure,--he appreciated +every small gleam and narrow shaft of colour reflected by the strong +sun through the deeply-tinted lozenge panes of glass that filled the +lofty oriel windows on either side;--and the stuffed knight-in- +armour, a model figure 'clad in complete steel,' of the fourteenth +century, which stood, holding a spear in its gauntleted hand near +the doorway leading to the various reception rooms, was almost a +personal friend. Mrs. Spruce, happily unconscious of the deepening +melancholy which had begun to tinge his thoughts, led the way +through the hall, still garrulously chirping. + +"We've cleaned up wonderfully, considerin'--and it was just the +Lord's providence that at Riversford I found a decent butler and +footman what had jes' got the sack from Sir Morton Pippitt's and +were lookin' for a place temp'ry, preferring London later, so I +persuaded both of 'em to come and try service with a lady for once, +instead of with a fussy old ancient, who turns red and blue in the +face if he's kept waitin' 'arf a second--and I picked up with a gel +what the footman was engaged to, and that'll keep HIM a fixture,-- +and I found the butler had a hi on a young woman at the public-house +'ere,--so that's what you may call an 'hattraction,' and then I got +two more 'andy gels which was jes' goin' off to see about Mrs. +Leveson's place, and when I told 'em that there the sugar was +weighed out, and the tea dispensed by the ounce, as if it was +chemicals, and that please the Lord and anybody else that likes, +they'd have better feedin' if they came along with me, they struck a +bargain there and then. And then as if there was a special powerful +blessin' on it all, who should come down Riversford High Street but +one of the best cooks as ever took a job, a Scotch body worth her +weight in gold, and she'd be a pretty big parcel to weigh, too, but +she can send up a dinner for one as easy as for thirty, which is as +good a test as boilin' a tater---and 'as got all her wits about her. +She was just goin' to advertise for a house party or shootin' job, +so we went into the Crown Inn at Riversford and had tea together and +settled it. And they all come up in a wagginette together as merry +as larks;--so the place is quite lively, Passon, I do assure you, +'specially for a woman like me which have had it all to myself and +lonesome like for many years. I've made Kitty useful, too, dustin' +and polishin'--gels can't begin their trainin' too early, and all +has been going on fine;--not but what there's a mighty sight of +eatin' and drinkin' now, but it's the Lord's will that human bein's +should feed even as the pigs do, 'specially domestic servants, and +there's no helpin' of it nor hinderin'--but this mornin's business +did put me out a bit, and I do assure you I haven't got over it yet, +but howsomever, Spruce says 'Do yer dooty!'--and I'm a-doin' it to +the best of my belief and, 'ope--still it do make my mind a bit +ricketty--" + +Silently Walden followed her through the rooms, saying little in +response to her remarks, 'ricketty' or otherwise, and noting all the +various changes as he went. + +In the dining-room there was a great transformation. The fine old +Cordova leather chairs were all released from their brown holland +coverings,--the long-concealed Flemish tapestries were again +unrolled and disclosed to the light of day--valuable canvases that +had been turned to the wall to save their colour from the too +absorbing sunshine, were now restored to their proper positions, and +portraits by Vandyke, and landscapes by Corot gave quite a stately +air of occupation to a room, which being large and lofty, had always +seemed to Walden the loneliest in the house for lack of a living +presence. He trod in the restless wake of Mrs. Spruce, however, +without comment other than a word of praise such as she expected, +for the general result of her labours in getting the long-disused +residence into habitable condition, and was only moved to something +like enthusiasm when he reached what was called 'the morning room,' +an apartment originally intended to serve as a boudoir for that +beautiful Mrs. Vancourt, the bride who never came home. Here all the +furniture was of the daintiest design,--here rich cushions of silk +and satin were lavishly piled on the luxurious sofas and in the deep +easy-chairs,--curtains of cream brocade embroidered by hand with +garlands of roses, draped the sides of the deep embrasured window- +nook whence two wide latticed doors opened outwards to a smooth +terrace bordered with flowers, where two gardeners were busy rolling +the rich velvety turf,--and beyond it stretched a great lawn shaded +with ancient oaks and elms that must have seen the days of Henry +VII. The prospect was fair and soothing to the eyes, and Walden. +gazing at it, gave a little involuntary sigh of pleasure. + +"This is beautiful!" he said, speaking more to himself than to +anyone--"Perfectly beautiful!" + +"It is so, sir," agreed Mrs. Spruce, with an air of comfortably +placid conviction; "There's no doubt about it--it's as beautiful a +room as could be made for a queen, though I say it--but whether our +new lady will like it, is quite another question. You see, sir, this +room was always kept locked in the Squire's time, and so was all the +other rooms as was got ready for the wife as never lived to use +them. The Squire wouldn't let a soul inside the doors, not even his +daughter. And now, sir, will you please read the letter I got this +morning, which as you will notice, is quite nice-like and kindly, +more than the other--onny when the boxes came I was a bit upset. You +see the letter was registered and had the keys inside it all right." + +Walden took the missive in reluctant silence. The same thick +notepaper, odorous with crushed violets--the same bold, dashing +handwriting he had seen before, but the matter expressed in it was +worded somehow in a totally different tone to that of the previous +letter from the same hand. + +"DEAR MRS. SPRUCE," it ran: "I enclose the keys of my boxes which I +am sending in advance, as I never travel with luggage. Kindly unpack +all the contents and arrange them in the wardrobes and presses of my +mother's rooms. If I remember rightly, these rooms have never been +used, hut I intend to take them for myself now, so please have +everything prepared. I have received your letter in which you say +there is some difficulty in getting good servants at so short a +notice. I quite understand this, and am sure you. will arrange for +the best. Should everything not be quite satisfactory, we can make +alterations when I come. I expect to arrive home in time for +afternoon tea. MARYLLIA VANCOURT." + +Walden folded up the letter and gave it back to its owner. + +"Well, so far, you have nothing to complain of, Mrs. Spruce," he +said, with a little smile; "The lady is evidently prepared to excuse +any deficiencies arising from the hurry of your preparations." + +"Yes, sir, that may be," answered Mrs. Spruce; "but if so be you saw +what I've seen you mightn't take it so easily. Now, sir, if you'll +follow me, you'll be able to judge of the quandary we was in till we +got our senses back." + +Beginning to be vaguely amused and declining to speculate as to the +'quandary' which according to the good woman had resulted in a +species of lunacy, Walden followed as he was told, and slowly +ascended the broad staircase, one of the finest specimens of Tudor +work in all England, with its richly turned balustrades and +grotesquely carved headpieces, but as he reached the upper landing, +he halted abruptly, seeing through an open door mysterious +glimmerings of satins and laces, to which he was entirely +unaccustomed. + +"What room is that?" he enquired. + +"That's what we used to call 'the bride's room,' sir," replied Mrs. +Spruce, smoothing down her black skirts with an air of fussy +importance, and heaving a sigh; "Miss Maryllia's mother was to have +had it. Don't be afraid to step inside, Passon; everythink's been +turned out and aired, and there's not a speck of damp or dismals +anywhere, and you'll see for yourself what a time we're 'avin' +though we're gettin' jes' a bit straight now, and I've 'ad Nancy +Pyrle as is 'andy with her pencil to mark things down as they come +to 'and. Step inside, Passon Walden,--do step inside!" + +But Walden, held back by some instinctive fastidiousness, declined +to move further than the threshold of this hitherto closed and +sacredly guarded chamber. Leaning against the doorway he looked in +wonderingly, with a vague feeling of bewilderment, while Mrs. +Spruce, trotting busily ahead, gave instructions to a fresh-faced +country lass, who, breathing very hard, as though she were running, +was carefully shaking out what seemed to be a fairy's robe of filmy +white lace, glistening with pearls. + +"Ye see, Passon, this is what all my trouble's about;"--she said-- +"Fancy 'avin' to unpack all these grand clothes, and sort 'em as +they comes, not knowin' whether they mayn't fall to bits in our +'ands, some of 'em bein' fine as cobwebs, an' such body linen as was +never made for any mortal woman in St. Rest, all lace an' silk an' +little ribbins! When the trunks arrived an' we got 'em into the +'all, I felt THAT faint, I do assure ye! For me to 'ave to unpack +an' open 'em, and take out all the things inside,--ah, Passon, it's +an orful 'sponsibility, seein' there's jewels packed among the +dresses quite reckless-like, rubies an' sapphires an' diamants, +somethin' amazin', and we've taken a reg'lar invent'ry of them all +lest somethin' might be missin', for the Lord He only knows whether +there might not be fifty thousand pounds of proputty in one of them +little kicketty boxes, all velvet and satin, made just as if they +was sweetmeats, only when ye looks inside ye sees a sparklin' stone +glisterin' at ye, and ye know it's wuth a fortune! I do assure ye, +Passon, I've never seen such things in all my life! Miss Maryllia +must be mortal extravagant, for there's enough in one o' them boxes +to feed the whole village of St. Best for several years. Ah! Passon, +I do assure ye, I've thought of Scripter many a time this mornin'; +'Whose adornin' let it be the adornin' of a meek and quiet spirit,' +which is a hornament and no mistake!" + +Walden made no remark. It never even occurred to him just then that +Mrs. Spruce was unconsciously rendering in her own particular +fashion the text he had chosen for the next day's sermon. Never in +all his life before had he experienced such strongly mingled +sensations of repulsion and interest as at that moment. With a kind +of inward indignation, he asked himself what business he had to be +there looking curiously into a woman's room, littered with all the +fripperies and expensive absurdities of a woman's apparel? Above +all, why should he be so utterly ridiculous and inconsequential in +his own mind as to find himself deeply fascinated by such a +spectacle? In all the years he had passed with his sister, so long +as she had lived, he had never seen such a bewildering disorder of +feminine clothes. He had never had the opportunity of noting the +pathetic difference existing between the toilette surroundings of a +woman who is strong and well, and of one who is deprived of all +natural coquetry by the cruel ravages of long sickness and disease. +His sister, beautiful even in her incurable physical affliction, had +always borne that affliction more or less in mind, and had attired +herself with a severely simple taste,--her bedroom, where she had +had to pass so many weary hours of suffering, had been a model of +almost Spartan-like simplicity, and her dressing-table was wont to +be far more conspicuous for melancholy little medicine-phials than +for flashing, silver-stoppered cut-glass bottles, exhaling the +rarest perfumes. Then, since her death, Walden had lived so entirely +alone, that the pretty vanities of bright and healthy women were +quite unfamiliar to him. + +The present glittering display of openly expressed frivolity seemed +curiously new, and vaguely alarming. He was angry with it, yet in a +manner attracted. He found himself considering, with a curious +uneasiness, two small nondescript pink objects that were lying on +the floor at some distance from each other. At a first glance they +appeared to be very choice examples of that charming orchid known as +the 'Cypripedium,'--but on closer examination it was evident they +were merely fashionable evening shoes. Again and again he turned his +eyes away from them,--and again and again his glance involuntarily +wandered back and rested on their helpless-looking little pointed +toes and ridiculously high heels. Considered from a purely +'sanitary' point of view, they were the most wicked, the most +criminal, the most absolutely unheard-of shoes ever seen. Why, no +human feet of the proper size could possibly get into them, unless +they were squeezed--- + +"Yes, squeezed!"--repeated Walden inwardly, with a sense of +unreasonable irritation; "All the toes cramped and the heels +pinched--everything out of joint and distorted--false feet, in fact, +like everything else false that has to do with the modern +fashionable woman!" + +There they lay,-apparently innocent;--but surely detestable, nay +even Satanic objects. He determined he would have them removed-- +picked up--cast out--thrust into the nearest drawer, anywhere, in +fact, provided they were out of his stern, clerical sight. Mrs. +Spruce was continuing conversation in brisk tones, but whether she +was addressing him, or the buxom young woman, who, under her +directions was shaking out or folding up the various garments taken +out of the various boxes, he did not know, and, as a matter of fact, +he did not care. She sounded like Tennyson's 'Brook,' with a 'Men +may come and men may go, but I go on for ever' monotonousness that +was as depressing as it was incessant. + +He determined to interrupt the purling stream. + +"Mrs. Spruce," he began,--then hesitated, as she turned briskly +towards him, looking like a human clothes-prop, with both fat arms +extended in order to keep well away from contact with the floor a +gauzy robe sparkling all over with tiny crystalline drops, which, +catching the sunbeams, flashed like little points of flame. + +"Beggin' your pardon, Passon, did you speak?" + +"Yes. I think you should not let anything lie about, as, for +example,--those--" and he pointed to the objectionable shoes with an +odd sense of discomfiture; "They appear to be of a delicate colour +and might easily get soiled." + +Mrs. Spruce peered round over the sparkling substance she held, +looking like a very ancient and red-faced cherub peeping over the +rim of a moonlit cloud. + +"Well, I never!" she exclaimed; "What a hi you have, Passon! What a +hi! Now them shoes missed me altogether! They must have dropped out +of some of the dresses we've been unfoldin', for the packin's quite +reckless-like, and ain't never been done by no trained maid. All +hustled-bustled like into the boxes anyhow, as if the person what +had done it was in a mortal temper or hurry. Lord! Don't I know how +people crams things in when they's in a rage! Ah! Wait till I get +rid of all these diamants," and she waddled to the deep oak +wardrobe, which stood open, and carefully hung the glittering +garment up by its two sleeveholes on two pegs,--then turned round +with a sigh. "It's orful what the world's coming to, Passon Walden,- +-orful! Fancy diamants all sewed on to a gown! I wouldn't let my +Kitty in 'ere for any amount of money! She'd be that restless and +worritin' and wantin' the like things for 'erself, and the mortal +mischief it would be, there's no knowin'! Why, the first +'commercial' as come round 'ere with 'is pack and 'is lies, would +get her runnin' off with 'im! Ah! That's jes' where leddies makes +such work for Satan's hands to do; they never thinks of the envy and +jealousy and spite as eats away the 'arts of poor gels what sees all +these fine things, and ain't got no chance for to have them for +theirselves!" Here, sidling along the floor, she picked up the pink +shoes to which Walden had called her attention, first one and then +the other. "Well! Call them shoes! My Kitty couldn't get her 'and +into 'em! And as for a foot fittin' in! What a foot! It can't be +much bigger'n a baby's. Well, well, what a pair o' shoes!" + +She stood looking at them, a fat smile on her face, and Walden moved +uneasily from the threshold. + +"I'll leave you now, Mrs. Spruce," he said; "You have plenty to do, +and I'm in the way here." + +"Well, now, Passon, that do beat me!" said Mrs. Spruce plaintively; +"I thought you was a-goin' to help us!" + +"Help you? I?" and Walden laughed aloud; "My dear woman, do you +think I can unpack and unfold ladies' dresses? Of all the many +incongruous uses a clergyman was ever put to, wouldn't that be the +most impossible?" + +"Lord love ye, Passon Walden, I ain't askin' ye no such thing;" +retorted Mrs. Spruce; "Don't ye think it! For there's nothin' like a +man, passon or no passon, for makin' rumples of every bit of clothes +he touches, even his own coats and weskits, and I wouldn't let ye +lay hands on any o' these things to save my life. Why, they'd go to +pieces at the mere sight of yer fingers, they're so flimsy! What I +thought ye might do, was to be a witness to us while we sorted them +all. It's a great thing to have a man o' God as a witness to the +likes o' this work!" + +Again Walden laughed, this time with very genuine heartiness, though +he did wish Mrs. Spruce would put away the troublesome pink shoes +which she still held, and to which he found his eyes still +wandering. + +"Nonsense! You don't want any witness!" he said gaily; "What are you +thinking about, Mrs. Spruce? When Miss Vancourt is here, all you +have to do is to go over every item of her property with her, and +see that she finds it all right. If anything is missing, it's not +your fault." + +"If anythink's missing," echoed Mrs. Spruce in sepulchral tones, +"then the Lord knows what we'll do, for it'll be all over, so far as +we're consarned! Beggars in the street'll be kings to us. Passon, I +reckon ye doesn't read the newspapers much, does ye?" + +"Pretty fairly," responded Walden still smiling; "I keep myself as +well acquainted as I can with what is going on in the world." + +"Does ye now?" And Mrs. Spruce surveyed him admiringly. "Well, now, +I shouldn't have thought it, for ye seems as inn'cent as a babby I +do assure ye; ye seems jes' that. But mebbe ye doesn't get the same +kind o' newspapers which we poor folks gets--reg'ler weekly penny +lists o' murders, soocides, railway haccidents, burgul'ries, fires, +droppin's down dead suddint, struck by lightnin' and collapsis, with +remedies pervided for all in the advertisements invigoratin' to both +old and young, bone and sinew, brain and body, whether it be pills, +potions, tonics, lotions, ointment or min'ral waters. Them's the +sort o' papers we gets, or rather the 'Mother Huff' takes 'em all in +for us, an' the 'ole village drinks the 'orrors an' the medicines in +with the ale. Ah! It's mighty edifyin', Passon, I do assure ye--and +many of us goes to church on Sundays and reads the 'orrors an' +medicines in the arternoon, and whether we remembers your sermon or +the 'orrors an' medicines most, the Lord only knows! But it's in +them papers I sees how fine leddies goes on nowadays, and if they +misses so much as a two-and-sixpenny 'airpin, some of 'em out of +sheer spite, will 'aul a gel up 'fore the p'lice and 'ave 'er in +condemned cells in no time, so that ye see, Passon, if so be Miss +Maryllia counts over the sparkling diamants and one's lost, we'll +all be brought 'fore Sir Morton Pippitt as county mag'strate afore +we've 'ad time to look at our breakfasts. Wherefore, I sez, why not +'ave a man o' God as witness?" + +"Why not, indeed!" returned Walden, playfully; "but your 'man of +God' won't be me, Mrs. Spruce! I'm off! I congratulate you on your +preparations, and I think you are doing everything splendidly! If +Miss Vancourt does not look upon you as a positive treasure, I shall +be very much mistaken! Good afternoon!" + +"Passon, Passon!" urged Mrs. Spruce; "Ye baint goin' already?" + +"I must! To-morrow's Sunday, remember!" + +"Ah!--that it is!" she sighed, "And my mind sorely misgives me that +I never asked the new servants whether they was 'Igh, Low or Roman. +It fairly slipped my memory, and they seemed never to think of it +themselves. Why didn't they remind me, Passon?--can you answer me +that? Which it proves the despisableness of our naturs that we never +thinks of the religious sides of ourselves, but only our wages and +stummicks. Wages and stummicks comes fust, and the care of the Lord +Almighty arterwards. But, there, there!--we're jest a perverse and +stiffnecked generation!" + +Walden turned away. Mrs. Spruce, at last deciding to resign her hold +of the pink shoes, over whose pointed toes she had been moralising, +gave them into the care of the rosy-cheeked Phyllis, who was +assisting her in her labours, and followed her 'man of God' out to +the landing. + +"Do ye reely think we're doin' quite right, and that we're quite +safe, Passon?" she queried, anxiously. + +"You're doing quite right, and you're quite safe," replied Walden, +laughing. "Go on in your present path of virtue, Mrs. Spruce, and +all will be well! I really cannot wait a moment longer. Don't +trouble to come and show me out,--I know my way!" + +He sprang down the broad stairs as lightly as a boy, leaving Mrs. +Spruce at the summit, looking wistfully after him. + +"It's a pity he couldn't stay!" she murmured, dolefully; "There's a +lace petticut which must be worth a fortune!--I'd have liked 'im to +see it!" + +But Walden was beyond recall. On reaching the bottom of the +staircase he had turned into the picture gallery, a long, lofty room +panelled with Jacobean oak on both sides and hung with choice +canvases, the work of the best masters, three or four fine +Gainsboroughs, Peter Lelys and Romneys being among the most notable +examples. At one end of the gallery a close curtain of dark green +baize covered a picture which was understood to be the portrait of +the Mrs. Vancourt who had never lived to see her intended home. The +late Squire had himself put up that curtain, and no one had ever +dared to lift it. Mrs. Spruce had often been asked to do so, but she +invariably refused, 'not wishin' to be troubled with ghosteses of +the old Squire,' as she frankly explained. Facing this, at the +opposite end, hung another picture, disclosed in all its warm and +brilliant colouring to the light of day,--the picture of Mary Elia +Adelgisa de Vaignecourt, who, in the time of Charles the Second had +been a noted beauty of the 'merry monarch's' reign, and whose +counterfeit presentment Mrs. Spruce had styled 'the lady in the +vi'let velvet.' John Walden had suddenly taken a fancy to look at +this portrait though for ten years he had known it well. + +He walked up to it now slowly, studying it critically as the light +fell on its rich colouring. The painted lady had a wonderfully +attractive face,--the face of a child, piquante, smiling and +provocative,--her eyes were witching blue, with a moonlight halo of +grey between the black pupil and the azure iris,--her mouth, a +trifle large, but pouting in the centre and curved in the 'Cupid's +bow' line, suggested sweetness and passion, and her hair,--but +surely her hair was indescribable! The painter of Charles the +Second's time had apparently found it difficult to deal with,--for +there was a warm brown wave there, a tiny reddish ripple behind the +small ear, and a flash of golden curls over the white brow, +suggestive of all the tints of spring and autumn sunshine. Habited +in a riding dress of velvet the colour of a purple pansy, Mary Elia +Adelgisa held her skirt, white gauntleted gloves, and riding whip +daintily in one hand,--her hat, a three-cornered piece of coquetry, +lay ready for wear, on a garden-seat hard by,--a blush rosebud was +fastened carelessly in her close-fitting bodice, which was turned +back with embroidered gold revers, and over her head, great forest +trees, heavy with foliage, met in an arch of green. John Walden +stood for a quiet three minutes, studying the picture intently and +also the superscription: "Mary Elia Adelgisa de Vaignecourt, Born +May 1st, 1651: Wedded her cousin, Geoffrey de Vaignecourt, June 5th, +1671: Died May 30th, 1681." + +"Not a very long life!" he mused: "All the Vaignecourts, or +Vancourts, have died somewhat early." + +He let his eyes rest again on the portrait lingeringly. + +"Mary Elia! I wonder if her descendant, 'Maryllia,' is anything +like her?" + +Slowly turning, he went out of the picture gallery, across the hall +and into the garden, where the faithful Nebbie was waiting for him, +amid a company of pigeons who were busy picking up what they fancied +from the gravelled path, and who were utterly unembarrassed by the +constant waggings of the terrier's rough tail. And he walked +somewhat abstractedly through the old paved court, past the +unsympathetic sun-dial, and out through the great gates, which were +guarded on either side by stone griffins, gripping in their paws +worn shields decorated with defaced tracings of the old Vaignecourt +emblems. Clematis clasped these fabulous beasts in a dainty embrace, +winding little tendrils of delicate green over their curved claws, +and festooning their savage-looking heads with large star-like +flowers of white and pale mauve, and against one of the weather- +beaten shields an early flowering red rose leaned its perfumed head +in blushing crimson confidence. Halting a moment in his onward pace, +Walden paused, and looked back at the scene regretfully. + +"Dear old place!" he said half aloud; "Many and many a happy hour +have I passed in it, loving it, reverencing it, honouring its every +stone,--as all such relics of a chivalrous and gracious past deserve +to be loved, reverenced and honoured. But I fear,--yes!--I fear I +shall never again see it quite as I have seen it for the past ten +years,--or as I see it now! New days, new ways! And I am not +progressive. To me the old days and old ways are best!" + + + + +VI + + +"And the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son and the Holy +Ghost, be amongst you and remain with you always!" + +So prayed John Walden, truly and tenderly, stretching out his hands +in benediction over the bent heads of his little congregation, which +responded with a fervent 'Amen.' + +Service was over, and the good folks of St. Rest wended their +gradual way out of church to the full sweet sound of an organ +voluntary, played by Miss Janet Eden, who, as all the village said +of her, 'was a rare 'and at doin' the music proper.' Each man and +woman wore their Sunday best,--each girl had some extra bit of +finery on, and each lad sported either a smart necktie or wore a +flower in his buttonhole, as a testimony to the general festal +feeling inspired by a day when ordinary work is set aside for the +mingled pleasures of prayer, meditation and promiscuous love-making. +The iconoclasts who would do away with the appointed seventh day of +respite from the hard labours of every-day life, deserve hanging +without the mercy of trial. A due observance of Sunday, and +especially the English country observance of Sunday, is one of the +saving graces of our national constitution. In the large towns, a +growing laxity concerning the 'keeping of the seventh day holy,' is +plainly noticeable, the pernicious example of London 'smart' society +doing much to lessen the old feeling of respect for the day and its +sacredness; but in small greenwood places, where it is still judged +decent and obedient to the laws of God, to attend Divine worship at +least once a day,--when rough manual toil is set aside, and the +weary and soiled labourer takes a pleasure in being clean, orderly +and cheerfully respectful to his superiors, Sunday is a blessing and +an educational force that can hardly be over-estimated. + +In such a peaceful corner as St. Rest it was a very day of days. +Tourists seldom disturbed its tranquillity, the 'Mother Huff' +public-house affording but sorry entertainment to such parties; the +motor-bicycle, with its detestable noise, insufferable odour and +dirty, oil-stained rider in goggled spectacles, was scarcely ever +seen,--and motor-cars always turned another way on leaving the +county town of Riversford, in order to avoid the sharp ascent from +the town, as well as the still sharper and highly dangerous descent +into the valley again, where the little mediaeval village lay +nestled. Thus it was enabled to gather to itself a strangely +beautiful halcyon calm on the Lord's Day,--and in fair Spring +weather like the present, dozed complacently under the quiet smile +of serene blue skies, soothed to sleep by the rippling flow of its +ribbon-like river, and receiving from hour to hour a fluttering halo +of doves' wings, as these traditional messengers of peace flew over +the quaint old houses, or rested on the gabled roofs, spreading out +their snowy tails like fans to the warmth of the sun. The churchyard +was the recognised meeting-place for all the gossips of the village +after the sermon was over and the blessing pronounced,--and the +brighter and warmer the weather, the longer and more desultory the +conversation. + +On this special Sunday, the worthy farmers and their wives, with +their various cronies and confidants, gathered together in larger +groups than usual, and lingered about more than was even their +ordinary habit. Their curiosity was excited,--so were their +faculties of criticism. The new servants from the Manor had attended +church, sitting all together in a smart orderly row, and suggesting +in their neat spick-and-span attire an unwonted note of novelty, of +fashion, of change, nay, even of secret and suppressed society +wickedness. Their looks, their attitudes, their whisperings, their +movements, furnished plenty of matter to talk about,--particularly +as Mrs. Spruce had apparently 'given herself airs' and marshalled +them in and marshalled them out again, without stopping to talk to +her village friends as usual,--which was indeed a veritable marvel,- +-or to vouchsafe any information respecting the expected return of +her new mistress, an impending event which was now well known +throughout the whole neighbourhood. Oliver Leach, the land agent, +had arrived at the church-door in an open dog-cart, and had sat +through the service looking as black as thunder, or as Bainton +elegantly expressed it: 'as cheerful as a green apple with a worm in +it.' Afterwards, he had driven off at a rattling pace, exchanging no +word with anyone. Such conduct, so the village worthies opined, was +bound to be included among the various signs and tokens which were +ominous of a coming revolution in the moral and domestic atmosphere +of St. Rest. + +Then again, the 'Passon's' sermon that morning had been something of +a failure. Walden himself, all the time he was engaged in preaching +it, had known that it was a lame, halting and perfunctory discourse, +and he had felt fully conscious that a patient tolerance of him on +the part of his parishioners had taken the place of the respectful +interest and attention they usually displayed. He was indeed sadly +at a loss concerning 'the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit.' He +had desired to recommend the cultivation of such a grace in the most +forcible manner, yet he found himself wondering why fashionable +women wore pink shoes much smaller than the natural size of the +human foot? To be 'meek and quiet' was surely an excellent thing, +but then it was impossible for any man with blood in his veins to +feel otherwise than honestly indignant at the extravagance displayed +by certain modern ladies in the selection of their gowns! Flashing +sparks of pearl and crystal sewn on cloud-like tissues and chiffons, +danced before his eyes, as he ponderously weighed out the spiritual +advantages of being meek and quiet; and his metaphors became as hazy +as the deductions he drew from his text were vague and difficult to +follow. He was uncomfortably conscious of a slight flush rising to +his face, as he met the bland enquiring stare of Sir Morton +Pippitt's former butler--now on 'temp'ry' service at the Manor,--he +became aware that there was also a new and rather pretty housemaid +beside the said butler, who whispered when she ought to have been +silent,--and he saw blankness on the fat face of Mrs. Spruce, a face +which was tied up like a round red damaged sort of fruit in a black +basket-like bonnet, fastened with very broad violet strings. Now +Mrs. Spruce always paid the most pious attention to his sermons, and +jogged her husband at regular intervals to prevent that worthy man +from dozing, though she knew he could not hear a word of anything +that was said, and that, therefore, he might as well have been +allowed to sleep,--but on this occasion John was sure that even he +failed to be interested in his observations on that 'ornament,' +which she called 'hornament,' of the meek and quiet spirit, +pronounced to be of such 'great price.' He realised that if any +'great price' was at all in question with her that morning, it was +the possible monetary value of her new lady's wardrobe. So that on +the whole he was very glad when he came to the end of his ramble +among strained similes, and was able to retire altogether from the +gaze of the different pairs of eyes, cow-like, sheep-like, bird- +like, dog-like, and human, which in their faithful watching of his +face as he preached, often moved him to a certain embarrassment, +though seldom as much as on this occasion. With his disappearance +from the pulpit, and his subsequent retreat round by the back of the +churchyard into the privacy of his own garden, the tongues of the +gossips, restrained as long as their minister was likely to be +within earshot, broke loose and began to wag with glib rapidity. + +"Look 'ee 'ere, Tummas," said one short, thick-set man, addressing +Bainton; "Look 'ee 'ere--thy measter baint oop to mark this marnin'! +Seemed as if he couldn't find the ways nor the meanin's o' the Lord +nohow!" + +Bainton slowly removed his cap from his head and looked thoughtfully +into the lining, as though seeking for inspiration there, before +replying. The short, thick-set man was an important personage,--no +less than the proprietor of the 'Mother Huff' public-house; and not +only was he proprietor of the said public-house, but brewer of all +the ale he sold there. Roger Buggins was a man to be reckoned with, +and he expected to be treated with almost as much consideration as +the 'Passon' himself. Buggins wore a very ill-fitting black suit on +Sundays, which made him look like a cross between a waiter and an +undertaker; and he also supported on his cranium a very tall top-hat +with an extra wide brim, suggesting in its antediluvian shape a +former close acquaintance with cast-off clothing stores. + +"He baint himself,"--reiterated Buggins emphatically; "He was fair +mazed and dazed with his argifyin'. 'Meek and quiet sperrit'! Who +wants the like o' that in this 'ere mortal wurrld, where we all +commences to fight from the moment we lays in our cradles till the +last kick we gives 'fore we goes to our graves? Meek and quiet goes +to prison more often than rough and ready!" + +"Mebbe Passon Walden was thinkin' of Oliver Leach," suggested +Bainton with a slight twinkle in his eye; "And 'ow m'appen we'd best +be all of us meek and quiet when he's by. It might be so, Mr. +Buggins,--Passon's a rare one to guess as 'ow the wind blows nor'- +nor'-east sometimes in the village, for all that it's a warm day and +the peas comin' on beautiful. Eh, now, Mr. Buggins?" This with a +conciliatory air, for Bainton had a little reckoning at the 'Mother +Huff' and desired to be all that was agreeable to its proprietor. + +Buggins snorted a defiant snort. + +"Oliver Leach indeed!" he ejaculated. "Meek an' quiet suits him down +to the ground, it do! There's a man wot's likely to have a kindly +note of warnin' from my best fist, if he comes larrupin' round my +place too often. 'Ave ye 'eard as 'ow he's chalked the Five +Sisters?" + +"Now don't go for to say that!" expostulated Bainton gently. "'E +runs as near the wind as he can, but 'e'd never be stark starin' mad +enough to chalk the Five Sisters!" + +"Chalk 'em 'e HAS!" returned Buggins, putting quite a strong +aspirate where he generally left it out,--"And down they're comin' +on Wednesday marnin'. Which I sez yeste'day to Adam Frost 'ere: if +the Five Sisters is to lay low, what next?" + +"Ay! ay!" chorussed several other villagers who had been, listening +eagerly to the conversation; "You say true, Mr. Buggins--you say +gospel true. If the Five Sisters lay low, what next!" + +And dismal shakings of the head and rollings of the eyes from all +parties followed this proposition. + +"What next," echoed the sexton, Adam Frost, who on hearing his name +brought into the argument, showed himself at once ready to respond +to it. "Why next we'll not have a tree of any size anywhere near the +village, for if timber's to be sold, sold it will be, and the only +person we'll be able to rely on for a bit of green shade or shelter +will be Passon Walden, who wouldn't have a tree cut down anywhere on +his land, no, not if he was starving. Ah! If the old Squire were +alive he'd sooner have had his own 'ead chopped off than the Five +Sisters laid low!" + +By this time a considerable number of the villagers had gathered +round Roger Buggins as the centre of the discussion,--some out of +curiosity, and others out of a vague and entirely erroneous idea +that perhaps if they took the proper side of the argument +'refreshers' in the way of draughts of home-brewed ale at the +'Mother Huff' between church hours might be offered as an amicable +end to the conversation. + +"Someone should tell Miss Vancourt about it; she's coming home to +the Manor on Tuesday," suggested the barmaid of the 'Mother Huff,' a +smart-looking young woman, who was however looked upon with grave +suspicion by her feminine neighbours, because she dressed 'beyond +her station'; "P'raps she'd do something?" + +"Not she!" said Frost, cynically; "She's a fine lady,--been livin' +with 'Mericans what will eat banknotes for breakfast in order to +write about it to the papers arterwards. Them sort of women takes no +'count o' trees, except to make money out of 'em." + +Here there was a slight stir among the group, as they saw a familiar +figure slowly approaching them,--that of a very old man, wearing a +particularly clean smock-frock and a large straw hat, who came out +from under the church porch like a quaint, moving, mediaeval Dutch +picture. Shuffling along, one halting step at a time, and supporting +himself on a stout ash stick, this venerable personage made his way, +with a singular doggedness and determination of movement, up to the +group of gossips. Arriving among them he took off his straw hat, and +producing a blue spotted handkerchief from its interior wiped the +top of his bald head vigorously. + +"Now, what are ye at?" he said slowly; "What are ye at? All +clickettin' together like grasshoppers in a load of hay! What's the +mischief? Whose character are ye bitin' bits out of, like mice in an +old cheese? Eh? Lord! Lord! Eighty-nine years o' livin' wi' ye, +summer in and summer out, don't improve ye,--talk to ye as I will +and as I may, ye're all as mis'able sinners as ever ye was, and +never a saint among ye 'cept the one in the Sarky Fagus." + +Here, pausing for breath, the ancient speaker wiped his head again, +carefully flattening down with the action a few stray wisps of thin +white hair, while a smile of tranquil and superior wisdom spread +itself among the countless wrinkles of his sun-browned face, like a +ray of winter sunshine awakening rippling reflections on a half- +frozen pool. + +"We ain't doin' nothin', Josey!" said Buggins, almost timidly. + +"Nor we ain't sayin' nothin'," added Bainton. + +"We be as harmless as doves," put in Adam Frost with a sly chuckle; +"and we ain't no match for sarpints!" + +"Ain't you looking well, Mr. Letherbarrow!" ejaculated the smartly +dressed barmaid; "Just wonderful for your time of life!" + +"My time o' life?" And Josey Letherbarrow surveyed the young woman +with an inimitable expression of disdain; "Well, it's a time o' life +YOU'LL never reach, sane or sound, my gel, take my word for't! Fine +feathers makes fine birds, but the life is more'n the meat and the +body more'n raiment. And as for 'armless as doves and no match for +sarpints, ye may be all that and more, which is no sort of argyment +and when I sez 'what mischief are ye all up to' I sez it, and +expecks a harnser, and a harnser I'll 'ave, or I'll reckon to know +the reason why!" + +The men and women glanced at each other. It was unnecessary, and it +would certainly be inhuman, to irritate old Josey Letherbarrow, +considering Ms great age and various infirmities. + +"We was jest a-sayin' a word or two about the Five Sisters--" began +Adam Frost. + +"Ay! ay!" said Josey; "That ye may do and no 'arm come of it; I +knows 'em well! Five of the finest beech-trees in all England! Ay! +ay! th' owld Squire was main proud of 'em---" + +"They be comin' down," said Buggins; "Oliver Leach's chalk mark's on +'em for Wednesday marnin'." + +"Comin' down!" echoed Josey--"Comin' down? Gar'n with ye all for a +parcel o' silly idgits wi' neither rhyme nor reason nor backbone! +Comin' down! Why ye might as well tell me the Manor House was bein' +turned into a cow-shed! Comin' down! Gar'n!" + +"It's true, Josey," said Adam Frost, beginning to make his way +towards the gate of the churchyard, for he had just spied one of his +numerous 'olive-branches,' frantically beckoning him home to dinner, +and he knew by stern experience what it meant if Mrs. Frost and the +family were kept waiting for the Sunday's meal. "It's true, and +you'll find it so. And whether it'll be any good speakin' to the new +lady who's comin' home on Tuesday, or whether the Five Sisters won't +be all corpses afore she comes, there's no knowin'. The Lord He gave +the trees, but whether the Lord He gave Oliver Leach to take 'em +away again after a matter of three or four hundred year is mighty +doubtful!" + +Old Josey looked stupefied. + +"The Five Sisters comin' down!" he repeated dully; "May you never +live to do my buryin', Adam Frost, if it's true!--and that's the +worst wish I can give ye!" + +But Adam Frost here obeyed the call of his domestic belongings, and +hurried away without response. + +Josey leaned on his stick thoughtfully for a minute, and then +resumed his slow shuffling way. Any one of the men or women near him +would have willingly given him a hand to assist his steps, but they +all knew that he would be highly incensed if they dared to show that +they considered him in any way feeble or in need of support. So they +contented themselves with accompanying him at his own snail's pace, +and at such a distance as to be within hearing of any remarks he +might let fall, without intruding too closely on the special area in +which he chose to stump along homewards. + +"The Five Sisters comin' down, and the old Squire's daughter comin' +'ome!" he muttered; "They two things is like ile and water,--nothin' +'ull make 'em mix. The Squire's daughter--ay--ay! It seems but only +yeste'day the Squire died! And she was a fine mare that threw him, +too,--Firefly was her name. Ay--ay! It seems but yeste'day--but +yeste'day!" + +"D'ye mind the Squire's daughter, Josey?" asked one of the village +women sauntering a little nearer to him. + +"Mind her?" And Josey Letherbarrow halted abruptly. "Do I mind my +own childer? It seems but yeste'day, I tell ye, that the Squire +died, but mebbe it's a matter of six-an'-twenty 'ear agone since 'e +came to me where I was a-workin' in 'is fields, and he pinted out to +me the nurse wot was walkin' up and down near the edge of the +pasture carryin' his baby all in long clothes. 'See that, Josey!' he +sez, an' 'is eyes were all wild-like an' 'is lips was a' tremblin'; +'That little white thing is all I've got left of the wife I was +bringin' 'ome to be the sunshine of the old Manor. I felt like +killin' that child, Josey, when it was born, because its comin' into +this wurrld killed its mother. That was an unnat'ral thing, Josey,' +sez he--'There was no God in it, only a devil!' and 'is lips +trembled more'n ever--'no woman ought to die in givin' birth to a +child--it's jes' wicked an' cruel! I would say that to God Himself, +if I knew Him!' An' he clenched 'is fist 'ard, an' then 'e went on-- +'But though I wanted to kill the little creature, I couldn't do it, +Josey, I couldn't! It's eyes were like those of my Dearest. So I let +it live; an' I'll do my best by it, Josey,'--yes, them's the words +'e said--'I'll do my best by it!'" + +Here Josey broke off in his narrative, and resumed his crawling +pace. + +"You ain't finished, 'ave ye, Josey?" said Roger Buggins +propitiatingly, drawing closer to the old man. "It's powerful +interestin', all this 'ere!" + +Josey halted again. + +"Powerful interestin'? O' course it is! There ain't nobody's story +wot ain't interestin', if ye onny knows it. An' it's all six-an'- +twenty year agone now; but I can see th' owld Squire still, an' the +nurse walkin' slow up an' down by the border of the field, hushin' +the baby to sleep. And 'twas a good sound baby, too, an' thrived +fine; an' 'fore we knew where we was, instid of a baby there was a +little gel runnin' wild all over the place, climbin' trees, swannin' +up hay-stacks an' up to all sorts of mischief--Lord, Lord!" And +Josey began to chuckle with a kind of inward merriment; "I'll never +forget the day that child sat down on a wopses' nest an' got all 'er +little legs stung;--she was about five 'ear old then, an' she never +cried--not she!--the little proud spitfire that she was, she jes' +stamped 'er mite of a foot an' she sez, sez she: 'Did God make the +wopses?' An' 'er nurse sez to 'er: 'Yes, o' course, lovey, God made +'em.' 'Then I don't think much of Him!' sez she. Lord, Lord! We +larfed nigh to split ourselves that arternoon;--we was all makin' +'ay an' th' owld Squire was workin' wi' us for fun-like. 'I don't +think much o' God, father!'--sez Miss Maryllia, runnin' up to 'im, +an' liftin' up all 'er petticuts an' shewin' the purtiest little +legs ye ever seed; 'Nurse sez He made the wopses!' He-ee-ee-hor-hor- +hor!" + +A slow smile was reflected on the faces of the persons who heard +this story,--a smile that implied lurking doubt as to whether it was +quite the correct or respectful thing to find entertainment in an +anecdote which included a description of 'the purtiest little legs' +of the lady of the Manor whose return to her native home was so soon +expected,--but Josey Letherbarrow was a privileged personage, and he +might say what others dared not. As philosopher, general moralist +and purveyor of copy-book maxims, he was looked upon in the village +as the Nestor of the community, and in all discussions or +disputations was referred to as final arbitrator and judge. Born in +St. Rest, he had never been out of it, except on an occasional jaunt +to Riversford in the carrier's cart. He had married a lass of the +village, who had been his playmate in childhood, and who, after +giving him four children, had died when she was forty,--the four +children had grown up and in their turn had married and died; but +he, like a hardy old tree, had still lived on, with firm roots well +fixed in the soil that had bred him. Life had now become a series of +dream pictures with him, representing every episode of his +experience. His mind was clear, and his perception keen; he seldom +failed to recollect every detail of a circumstance when once the +clue was given, and the right little cell in his brain was stirred. +To these qualities he added a stock of good sound common sense, with +a great equableness of temperament, though he could be cynical, and +even severe, when occasion demanded. Just now, however, his +venerable countenance was radiant,--his few remaining tufts of white +hair glistened in the sun like spun silver,--his figure in its +homely smock, leaning on the rough ash stick, expressed in its very +attitude benevolence and good-humour, and 'the purtiest little legs' +had evidently conjured up a vision of childish grace and innocence +before his eyes, which he was loth to let go. + +"She was took away arter the old Squire was killed, worn't she?" +asked Bainton, who was drinking in all the information he could, in +order to have something to talk about to his master, when the +opportunity offered itself. + +"Ay! ay! She was took away," replied Josey, his smile darkening into +a shadow of weariness; "The Squire's neck was broke with Firefly-- +every man, woman and child knows that about here--an' then 'is +brother came along, 'im wot 'ad married a 'Merican wife wi' +millions, an' 'adn't got no children of their own. An' they took the +gel away with 'em--a purty little slip of about fifteen then, with +great big eyes and a lot of bright 'air;--don't none of ye remember +'er?" + +Mr. Buggins shook his head. + +"'Twas afore my time," he said. "I ain't had the 'Mother Huff' +more'n eight years." + +"I seed 'er once," said Bainton--"but onny once--that was when I was +workin' for the Squire as extra 'and. But I disremember 'er face.'' + +"Then ye never looked at it," said Josey, with a chuckle; "or bein' +made man ye wouldn't 'ave forgot it. Howsomever, it's 'ears ago an' +she's a woman growed--she ain't been near the place all this time, +which shows as 'ow she don't care about it, bein' took up with 'er +'Merican aunt and the millions. An' she'd got a nice little penny of +'er own, too, for the old Squire left 'er all he 'ad, an' she was to +come into it all when she was of age. An' now she's past bein' of +age, a woman of six-an'-twenty,--an' 'er rich uncle's dead, they +say, so I suppose she an' the 'Merican aunt can't work it out +together. Eh, dear! Well, well! Changes there must be, and changes +there will be, and if the Five Sisters is a-comin' down, then +there's ill-luck brewin' for the village, an' for every man, woman +and child in it! Mark my wurrd!" + +And he resumed his hobbling trudge, shaking his head dolefully. + +"Don't say that, Josey!" murmured one of the women with a little +shudder; "You didn't ought to talk about ill-luck. Don't ye know +it's onlucky to talk about ill-luck?" + +"No, I don't know nothin' o' the sort," replied Josey, "Luck there +is, and ill-luck,--an' ye can talk as ye like about one or t'other, +it don't make no difference. An' there's some things as comes +straight from the Lord, and there's others what comes straight from +the devil, an' ye've got to take them as they comes. 'Tain't no use +floppin' on yer knees an' cryin' on either the Lord or the devil,-- +they's outside of ye an' jest amusin' theirselves as they likes. +Mussy on me! D'ye think I don't know when the Lord 'ides 'is face +behind the clouds playin' peep-bo for a bit, and lets the devil 'ave +it all 'is own way? An' don't I know 'ow, when old Nick is jes' in +the thick o' the fun 'avin' a fine time with the poor silly souls o' +men, the Lord suddenly comes out o' the cloud and sez, sez He: 'Now +'nuff o' this 'ere; get thee behind me!' An' then--an' then--," here +Josey paused and struck his staff violently into the earth,--"an' +then there's a noise as of a mighty wind rushin', an' the angels all +falls to trumpetin' an' cries; 'Alleluia! Lift up your 'eads ye +everlasting gates that the King of Glory may come in'!" + +The various village loafers sauntering beside their venerable +prophet, listened to this outburst with respectful awe. + +"He's meanderin'," said Bainton in a low tone to the portly +proprietor of the 'Mother Huff'; "It's wonderful wot poltry there is +in 'im, when 'e gives way to it!" + +'Poltry' was the general term among the frequenters of the 'Mother +Huff' for 'poetry.' + +"Ay, ay!" replied Buggins, somewhat condescendingly, as one who bore +in mind that he was addressing a creditor; "I don't understan' +poltry myself, but Josey speaks fine when he has a mind to--there's +no doubt of that. Look 'ee 'ere, now; there's Ipsie Frost runnin' to +'im!" + +And they all turned their eyes on a flying bundle of curls, rosy +cheeks, fat legs and clean pinafore, that came speeding towards old +Josey, with another young feminine creature scampering after it +crying: + +"Ipsie! Hip-po-ly-ta! Baby! Come back to your dinner!" + +But Hippolyta was a person evidently accustomed to have her own way, +and she ran straight up to Josey Letherbarrow as though he were the +one choice hero picked out of a world. + +"Zozey!" she screamed, stretching out a pair of short, mottled arms; +"My own bootiful Zozey-posey! Tum and pick fowers!" + +With an ecstatic shriek at nothing in particular, she caught the +edge of the old man's smock. + +"My Zozey," she said purringly, "'Oo vezy old, but I loves 'oo!" + +A smile and then a laugh went the round of the group. They were all +accustomed to Ipsie's enthusiasms. Josey Letherbarrow paused a +minute to allow his small admirer to take firm hold of his garments, +and patted her little head with his brown wrinkled hand. + +"We'se goin' sweetheartin', ain't we, Ipsie," he said gently, the +beautiful smile that made his venerable face so fine and lovable, +again lighting up his sunken eyes. "Come along, little lass! Come +along!" + +"She ain't finished her dinner!" breathlessly proclaimed a long- +legged girl of about ten, who had run after the child, being one of +her numerous sisters; "Mother said she was to come back straight." + +"I s'ant go back!" declared Ipsie defiantly; "Zozey and me's +sweetheartin'!" + +Old Josey chuckled. + +"That's so! So we be!" he said tranquilly; "Come along little lass! +Come along!" And to the panting sister of the tiny autocrat, he +said: "You go on, my gel! I'll bring the baby, 'oldin' on jest as +she is now to my smock. She won't stir more'n a fond bird wot's +stickin' its little claws into ye for shelter. I'll bring 'er along +'ome, an' she'll finish 'er dinner fine, like a real good baby! Come +along, little lass! Come along!" + +So murmuring, the old man and young child went on together, and the +group of villagers dispersed. Roger Buggins, however, paused a +moment before turning up the lane which led to the 'Mother Huff.' + +"You tell Passon," he said addressing Bainton, "You tell him as 'ow +the Five Sisters be chalked for layin' low on Wednesday marnin'!" + +"Never fear!" responded Bainton; "I'll tell 'im. If 'tworn't Sunday, +I'd tell 'im now, but it's onny fair he should 'ave a bit o' peace +on the seventh day like the rest of us. He'll be fair mazed like +when he knows it,--ay! and I shouldn't wonder if he gave Oliver +Leach a bit of 'is mind. For all that he's so quiet, there's a real +devil in 'im wot the sperrit o' God keeps down,--but it's there, +lurkin' low in 'is mind, an' when 'is eyes flashes blue like +lightnin' afore a storm, the devil looks straight out of 'im, it do +reely now!" + +"Well, well!" said Buggins, tolerantly, with the dignified air of +one closing the discussion; "Devil or no devil, you tell 'im as 'ow +the Five Sisters be chalked for layin' low on Wednesday marnin'. +Good day t'ye!" + +"Good day!" responded Bainton, and the two worthies panted, each to +go on their several ways, Buggins to the 'Mother Huff' from whose +opened latticed windows the smell of roast beef and onions, which +generally composed the Buggins' Sunday meal, came in odorous whiffs +down the little lane, almost smothering the delicate perfume of the +sprouting sweet-briar hedges on either side, and the nodding +cowslips in the grass below; Bainton to his own cottage on the +border of his master's grounds, a pretty little dwelling with a +thatched roof almost overgrown with wistaria just breaking into +flower. + +Far away from St. Rest, the greater world swung on its way; the +whirl of society, politics, fashion and frivolity revolved like the +wheel in a squirrel's cage, round which the poor little imprisoned +animal leaps and turns incessantly in a miserable make-believe of +forest freedom,--but to the old gardener who lifted the latch of his +gate and went in to the Sunday dinner prepared for him by his stout +and energetic helpmate, who was one of the best dairy-women in the +whole countryside, there was only one grave piece of news in the +universe worth considering or discussing, and that was the 'layin' +low of the Five Sisters.' + +"Never!" said Mrs. Bainton, as she set a steaming beef-steak pudding +in its basin on the table and briskly untied the ends of the cloth +in which it had been boiling. "Never, Tom! You don't tell me! The +Five Sisters comin' down! Why, what is Oliver Leach thinking about?" + +"Himself, I reckon!" responded her husband, "and his own partikler +an' malicious art o' forestry. Which consists in barin' the land as +if it was a judge's chin, to be clean-shaved every marnin'. My +wurrd! Won't Passon Walden be just wild! M'appen he's heard of it +already, for he seems main worrited about somethin' or other. I've +allus thought 'im wise-like an' sensible for a man in the Church wot +ain't got much chance of knowin' the wurrld, but he was jes' +meanderin' along to-day--meanderin' an' jabberin' about a meek an' +quiet sperrit, as if any of us wanted that kind o' thing 'ere! Why +it's fightin' all the time! If 'tain't Sir Morton Pippitt, it's +Leach, an' if 'tain't Leach it's Putty Leveson--an' if 'tain't +Leveson, why it's Adam Frost an' his wife, an' if 'tain't Frost an' +his wife, why it's you an' me, old gel! We can get up a breeze as +well as any couple wot was ever jined in the bonds of 'oly +matterimony! Hor-hor-hor! 'Meek an' quiet sperrit,' sez he--'have +all of ye meek an' quiet sperrits'! Why he ain't got one of 'is own! +Wait till he 'ears of the Five Sisters comin' down! See 'im then! Or +wait till Miss Vancourt arrives an' begins to muddle round with the +church!" + +"Nonsense! She won't muddle round with the church," said Mrs. +Bainton cheerfully, sitting down to dinner opposite her husband, +'What nesh fools men are, to be sure! Every-one says she's a fine +lady 'customed to all sorts of show and gaiety and the like--what +will she want to do with the church? Ten to one she never goes +inside it!" + +"You shouldn't bet, old woman, 'tain't moral," said Bainton, with a +chuckle; "You ain't got ten to bet agin one--we couldn't spare so +much. If she doos nothing else, she'll dekrate the church at 'Arvest +'Ome an' Christmas--that's wot leddies allus fusses about-- +dekratin'. Lord, Lord! The mess they makes when they starts on it, +an' the mischief they works! Tearin' down the ivy, scrattin' up the +moss, pullin' an' grabbin' at the flowers wot's taken months to +grow,--for all the wurrld as if they was cats out for a 'oliday. I +tell ye it's been a speshel providence for us 'ere, that Passon +Walden ain't got no wife,--if he 'ad, she'd a been at the dekratin' +game long afore now. Our church would be jes' spoilt with a lot o' +trails o' weed round it--but you mark my wurrd!--Miss Vancourt will +be dekratin' the Saint in the coffin at 'Arvest 'Ome wi' corn and +pertaters an' vegetable marrers, all a-growin' and a-blowin' afore +we knows it. There ain't no sense o' fitness in the feminine natur!" + +Mrs. Bainton laughed good-naturedly. + +"That's quite true!" she agreed; "If there were, I shouldn't have +made Sunday pudding for a man who talks too much to eat it while +it's hot. Keep your tongue in your mouth, Tom!--use it for tastin' +jes' now an' agin!" + +Bainton took the hint and subsided into silent enjoyment of his +food. Only once again he spoke in the course of the meal, and that +was during the impressive pause between pudding and cheese. + +"When he knows as 'ow the Five Sisters be chalked, Passon Walden's +sure to do somethin'," he said. + +"Ay!" responded his wife thoughtfully; "he's sure to do something." + +"What d'ye think he'll do?" queried Bainton, somewhat anxiously. + +"Oh, you know best, Tom," replied his buxom partner, setting a +flat Dutch cheese before him and a jug of foaming beer; "There ain't +no sense o' fitness in ME, bein' a woman! You know best!" + +Bainton lowered his eyes sheepishly. As usual his better half had +closed the argument unanswerably. + + + + +VII + + +Seldom in the placid course of years had St. Rest ever belied its +name, or permitted itself to suffer loss of dignity by any undue +display of excitement. The arrival of John Walden as minister of the +parish,--the re-building of the church, and the discovery of the +medieval sarcophagus, which old Josey Letherbarrow always called the +Sarky Fagus, together with the consecration ceremony by Bishop +Brent,--were the only episodes in ten years that had moved it +slightly from its normal calm. For though rumours of wars and +various other mishaps and tribulations, reached it through the +medium of the newspapers in the ordinary course, it concerned itself +not at all with these, such matters being removed and apart from its +own way of life and conduct. It was a little world in itself, and +had only the vaguest interest in any other world, save perhaps the +world to come, which was indeed a very real prospect to most of the +villagers, their inherited tendency being towards a quaint and +simple piety that was as childlike as it was sincere. The small +congregation to which John Walden preached twice every Sunday was +composed of as honest men and clean-minded women as could be found +in all England,--men and women with straight notions of honour and +duty, and warm, if plain, conceptions of love, truth and family +tenderness. They had their little human failings and weaknesses, +thanks to Mother Nature, whose children we all are, and who sets her +various limitations for the best of us,--but, taken on the whole, +they were peculiarly unspoilt by the iconoclastic march of progress; +and 'advanced' notions of doubt as to a God, and scepticism as to a +future state, had never clouded their quiet minds. Walden had taken +them well in hand from the beginning of his ministry,--and being +much of a poet and dreamer at heart, he had fostered noble ideals +among them, which he taught in simple yet attractive language, with +the happiest results. The moral and mental attitude of the villagers +generally was a philosophic cheerfulness and obedience to the will +of God,--but this did not include a tame submission to tyranny, or a +passive acceptance of injury inflicted upon them by merely human +oppressors. + +Hence,--though any disturbance of the daily equanimity of their +agricultural life and pursuits was quite an exceptional +circumstance, the news of the 'layin' low of the Five Sisters' was +sufficient cause, when once it became generally known, for visible +signs of trouble. In its gravity and importance it almost overtopped +the advent of the new mistress of the Manor; and when on Tuesday it +was whispered that 'Passon Walden' had himself been to expostulate +with Oliver Leach concerning the meditated murder of the famous +trees, and that his expostulations had been all in vain, clouded +brows and ominous looks were to be seen at every corner where the +men halted on their way to the fields, or where the women gathered +to gossip in the pauses of their domestic labour. Walden himself, +pacing impatiently to and fro in his garden, was for once more +disturbed in his mind than he cared to admit. When he had been told +early on Monday morning of the imminent destruction awaiting the +five noble beeches which, in their venerable and broadly-branching +beauty, were one of the many glories of the woods surrounding +Abbot's Manor, he was inclined to set it down to some capricious +command issued by the home-coming mistress of the estate; and, in +order to satisfy himself whether this was, or was not the case, he +had done what was sorely against his own sense of dignity to do,--he +had gone at once to interview Oliver Leach personally on the +subject. But he had found that individual in the worst of all +possible moods for argument, having been, as he stated, passed over' +by Miss Vancourt. That lady had not, he said, written to inform him +of her intended return, therefore,--so he argued,--it was not his +business to be aware of it. + +"Miss Vancourt hasn't told me anything, and of course I don't know +anything," he said carelessly, standing in his doorway and keeping +his hat on in the minister's presence; "My work is on the land, and +when timber has to be felled it's my affair and nobody else's. I've +been agent on these estates since the Squire's death, and I don't +want to be taught my duty by any man." + +"But surely your duty does not compel you to cut down five of the +finest old trees in England," said Walden, hotly,--"They have been +famous for centuries in this neighbourhood. Have you any right to +fell them without special orders?" + +"Special orders?" echoed Leach with a sneer; "I've had no 'special +order' for ten years at least! My employers trust me to do what I +think best, and I've every right to act accordingly. The trees will +begin to rot in another eighteen months or so,--just now they're in +good condition and will fetch a fair price. You stick to your +church, Parson Walden,--you know all about that, no doubt!--but +don't come preaching to me about the felling of timber. That's my +business,--not yours!" + +Walden flushed, and bit his lip. His blood grew warm with +indignation, and he involuntarily clenched his fist. But he +suppressed his rising wrath with an effort. + +"You may as well keep a civil tongue in your head, Mr. Leach--it +will do you no harm!" he said quietly; "I have no wish to interfere +with what you conceive to be your particular mode of duty, but I +think that before you destroy what can never be replaced, you should +consult the owner of the trees, Miss Vancourt, especially as her +return is fixed for to-morrow." + +"As I told you before, I know nothing about her return," replied +Leach, obstinately; "I am not supposed to know. And whether she's +here or away, makes no difference to me. I know what's to be done, +and I shall do it." + +Walden's eyes flashed. Strive as he would, he could not disguise his +inward contempt for this petty jack-in-office,--and his keen glance +was, to the perverse nature of the ill-conditioned boor he +addressed, like the lash of a whip on the back of a snarling cur. + +"I know what's to be done, and I shall do it," Leach repeated in a +louder tone; "And all the sentimental rot ever talked in the village +about the Five Sisters won't make me change my mind,--no, nor all +the sermons on meek and quiet spirits neither! That's my last word, +Mr. Walden, and you may take it for what it is worth!" + +Walden swung round on his heel and went his way without replying. +Outwardly, he was calm enough, but inwardly he was in a white heat +of anger. His thoughts dwelt with a passionate insistence on the +grand old trees with their great canopies of foliage, where hundreds +of happy birds annually made their homes,--where, with every +recurring Spring, the tender young leaves sprouted forth from the +aged gnarled boughs, expressing the joy of a life that had outlived +whole generations of men--where, in the long heats of summer broad +stretches of shade lay dense on the soft grass, offering grateful +shelter from the noon-day sun to the browsing cattle,--and where +with the autumn's breath, the slow and glorious transformation of +green leaves to gold, with flecks of scarlet between, made a +splendour of colour against the pale grey-blue sky, such as artists +dream of and with difficulty realise. All this wealth of God-granted +natural beauty,--the growth of centuries,--was to perish in a single +morning! Surely it was a crime!--surely it was a wicked and wanton +deed, for which, there could be no sane excuse offered! Sorrowfully, +and with bitterness, did Walden relate to his gardener, Bainton, the +failure of his attempt to bring Oliver Leach to reason,--solemnly, +and in subdued silence did Bainton hear the tale. + +"Well, well, Passon," he said, when his master had finished; "You +doos your best for us, and no man can't say but what you've done it +true ever since you took up with this 'ere village,--and you've +tried to save the Five Sisters, and if 'tain't no use, why there's +no more to be said. Josey Letherbarrow was for walkin' up to the +Manor an' seein' Miss Vancourt herself, as soon as iver she gets +within her own door,--but Lord love ye, he'd take 'arf a day to jog +up there on such feet as he's got left after long wear and tear, an' +there ain't no liftin' 'im into a cart nohow. Sez he to me: 'I'll +see the little gel wot I used to know, and I'll tell 'er as 'ow the +Five Sisters be chalked, an' she'll listen to me--you see if she +don't!' I was rather took with the idee myself, but I sez, sez I: 'Let +alone, Josey,--you be old as Methusaleh, and you can't get up to +the Manor nohow; let Passon try what he can do wi' Leach,'--and now +you've been and done your best, and can't do nothin', why we must +give it up altogether." + +Walden walked up and down, Ms hands loosely clasped behind his back, +lost in thought. + +"We won't give it up altogether, Bainton," he said; "We'll try and +find some other way--" + +"There's goin' to be another way," declared Bainton, significantly; +"There's trouble brewin' in the village, an' m'appen when Oliver +Leach gets up to the woods to-morrow mornin' he'll find a few ready +to meet 'im!" + +Walden stopped abruptly. + +"What do you mean?" + +"'Tain't for me to say;" and Bainton pretended to be very busy in +pulling up one or two plantains from the lawn; "But I tells ye true, +Passon, the Five Sisters ain't goin' to be laid low without a +shindy!" + +John's eyes sparkled. He scented battle, and was not by any means +displeased. + +"This is Tuesday, isn't it?" he asked abruptly; "This is the day +Miss Vancourt has arranged to return?" + +"It is so, sir," replied Bainton; "and it's believed the +arrangements 'olds good--for change'er mind as a woman will, 'er +'osses an' groom's arrived--and a dog as large as they make 'em, +which 'is name is Plato." + +Walden gave a slight gesture of annoyance. Here was a fresh cause of +antipathy to the approaching Miss Vancourt. No one but a careless +woman, devoid of all taste and good feeling, would name a dog after +the greatest of Greek philosophers! + +"Plato's a good name," went on Bainton meditatively, unconscious of +the view his master was taking of that name in his own mind; "I've +'eard it somewheres before, though I couldn't tell just where. And +it's a fine dog. I was up at the Manor this mornin' lookin' round +the grounds, just to see 'ow they'd been a-gettin' on--and really it +isn't so bad considerin', and I was askin' a question or two of +Spruce, and he showed me the dog lyin' on the steps of the Manor, +lookin' like a lion's baby snoozin' in the sun, and waitin' as wise +as ye like for his mistress. He don't appear at all put out by new +faces or new grounds--he's took to the place quite nat'ral." + +"You saw Spruce early, then?" + +"Yes, sir, I see Spruce, and arter 'ollerin' 'ard at 'im for 'bout +ten minutes, he sez, sez he, as gentle as a child sez he: 'Yes, the +Five Sisters is a-comin' down to-morrow mornin', and we's all to be +there a quarter afore six with ropes and axes.'" + +John started walking up and down again. + +"When is Miss Vancourt expected?" he enquired. + +"At tea-time this arternoon," replied Bainton. "The train arrives at +Riversford at three o'clock, if so be it isn't behind its time,--and +if the lady gets a fly from the station, which if she ain't ordered +it afore, m'appen she won't get it, she'll be 'ere 'bout four." + +Instinctively Walden glanced at his watch. It was just two o'clock. +Another hour and the antipathetic 'Squire-ess' would be actually on +her way to the village! He heaved a short sigh. Forebodings of evil +infected the air,--impending change, disturbing and even disastrous +to St. Rest suggested itself troublously to his mind. Arguing +inwardly with himself, he presently began to think that +notwithstanding all his attempts to live a Christian life, after the +manner Christianly, he was surely becoming a very selfish and +extremely narrow-minded man! He was unreasonably, illogically vexed +at the return of the heiress of Abbot's Manor; and why? Why, chiefly +because he would no longer be able to walk at liberty in Abbot's +Manor gardens and woods,--because there would be another personality +perhaps more dominant than his own in the little village, and +because--yes!--because he had a particular aversion to women of +fashion, such as Miss Vancourt undoubtedly must be, to judge from +the brief exhibition of her wardrobe which, through the +guilelessness of Mrs. Spruce, had been displayed before his +reluctant eyes. + +These objections were after all, so he told himself, really rooted +in masculine selfishness,--the absorbing selfishness of old +bachelorhood, which had grown round him like a shell, shutting him +out altogether from the soft influences of feminine attraction,--so +much so indeed that he had even come to look upon his domestic +indoor servants as obliging machines rather than women,--machines +which it was necessary to keep well oiled with food and wages, but +which could scarcely be considered as entering into his actual life +more than the lawn-mower or the roasting-jack. Yet he was invariably +kind to all his dependants,--invariably thoughtful of all their +needs,--nevertheless he maintained a certain aloofness from them, +not only because he was by nature reserved, but because he judged +reserve necessary in order to uphold respect. In sickness or +trouble, no one could be more quietly helpful or consolatory than +he; and in the company of children he threw off all restraint and +was as a child himself in the heartiness and spontaneity of his +mirth and good humour,--but with all women, save the very aged and +matronly, he generally found himself at a loss, uncertain what to +say to them, and equally uncertain as to how far he might accept or +believe what they said to him. The dark eyes of a sparkling brunette +embarrassed him as much as the dreamy blue orbs of a lily-like +blonde,--they were curious dazzlements that got into his way at +times, and made him doubtful as to whether any positive sincerity +ever could or ever would lurk behind such bewildering brief flashes +of light which appeared to shine forth without meaning, and vanish +again without result. And in various ways,--he now began to think,-- +he must certainly have grown inordinately, outrageously selfish!-- +his irritation at the prospective return of Miss Vancourt proved it. +He determined to brace himself together and put the lurking devil of +egotism down. + +"Put it down!" he said inwardly and with sternness,--"put it down-- +trample it under foot, John, my boy! The lady of the Manor is +perhaps sent here to try your patience and prove the stuff that is +in you! She is no child,--she is twenty-seven years of age--a full +grown woman,--she will have her ways, just as you have yours,--she +will probably rub every mental and moral hair on the skin of your +soul awry,--but that is really just what you want, John,--you do +indeed! You want something more irritating than Sir Morton Pippitt's +senile snobberies to keep you clean of an overgrowth or an +undergrowth of fads! Your powers of endurance are about to be put to +the test, and you must come out strong, John! You must not allow +yourself to become a querulous old fellow because you cannot always +do exactly as you like!" + +He smiled genially at his own mental scolding of himself, and +addressing Bainton once more, said: + +"I shall probably write a note to Miss Vancourt this afternoon, and +send you up with it. I shall tell her all about the Five Sisters, +and ask her to give orders that the cutting down of the trees may be +delayed till she has seen them for herself. But don't say anything +about this in the village," here he paused a moment, and then spoke +with greater emphasis--"I don't want to interfere with anything +anybody else may have on hand. Do you understand? We must save the +old beeches somehow. I will do my best, but I may fail; Miss +Vancourt may not read my letter, or if she does, she may not be +disposed to attend to it; it is best that all ways and means should +be, tried,--" + +He broke off,--but his eyes met Bainton's in a mutual flash of +understanding. + +"You're a straight man, Passon, and no mistake," observed Bainton +with a slow smile; "No beatin' about the bush in the likes o' you! +Lord, Lord! What a mussy we ain't saddled with a poor snuffling, +addle-pated, whimperin' man o' God like we 'ad afore you come 'ere-- +what found all 'is dooty an' pleasure in dinin' with Sir Morton +Pippitt up at the 'All! And when there was a man died, or a baby +born, or some other sich like calamity in the village, he worn't +never to 'and to 'elp,-but he would give a look in when it was all +over, and then he sez, sez he: 'I'm sorry, my man, I wasn't 'ere to +comfort ye, but I was up at the 'All.' And he did roll it round and +round in his mouth like as 'twas a lump o' butter and 'oney--'up at +the 'All'! Hor-hor-hor! It must a' tasted sweet to 'im as we used to +say,--and takin' into consideration that Sir Morton was a bone- +melter by profession, we used to throw up the proverb 'the nearer +the bone, the sweeter the meat'--not that it had any bearin' on the +matter, but a good sayin's a good thing, and a proverb fits into a +fancy sometimes better'n a foot into a shoe. But you ain't a +snuffler, Passon!--and you ain't never been up at the 'All, nor +wouldn't go if you was axed to, and that's one of the many things +what makes you a gineral favourite,--it do reely now!" + +Walden smiled, but forbore to continue conversation on this somewhat +personal theme. He retired into his own study, there to concoct the +stiffest, most clerical, and most formal note to Miss Vancourt that +he could possibly devise. He had the very greatest reluctance to +attempt such a task, and sat with a sheet of notepaper before him +for some time, staring at it without formulating any commencement. +Then he began: "The Rev. John Walden presents his compliments to +Miss Vancourt, and begs to inform her--" + +No, that would never do! 'Begs to inform her' sounded almost +threatening. The Rev. John Walden might 'beg to inform her' that she +had no business to wear pink shoes with high heels, for example. He +destroyed one half sheet of paper, put the other half economically +aside to serve as a stray leaflet for 'church memoranda,' and +commenced in a different strain. + +"Dear Madam," + +"Dear Madam!" He looked at the two words in some annoyance. They +were very ugly. Addressed to a person who wore pink shoes, they +seemed singularly abrupt. And if Miss Vancourt should chance to +resemble in the least her ancestress, Mary Elia Adelgisa de +Vaignecourt, they were wholly unsuitable. A creditor might write +'Dear Madam' to a customer in application for an outstanding bill,-- +but to Mary Elia Adelgisa one would surely begin,--Ah!--now how +would one begin? He paused, biting the end of his penholder. Another +half sheet of notepaper was wasted, and equally another half sheet +devoted to 'church memoranda.' Then he began: + +"Dear Miss Vancourt," + +At this, he threw down his pen altogether. Too familiar! By all the +gods of Greece, whom he had almost believed in even while studying +Divinity at Oxford, a great deal too familiar! + +"It is just as if I knew her!" he said to himself in vexation. "And +I don't know her! And what's more, I don't want to know her! If it +were not for this business of the Five Sisters, I wouldn't go near +her. Positively I wouldn't!" + +A mellow chime from the old eight-day clock in the outer hall struck +on the silence. Three o'clock! The train by which Miss Vancourt +would arrive, was timed to reach Riversford station at three,--if it +was not late, which it generally was. Nebbie, who had been snoozing +peacefully near the study window in a patch of sunlight, suddenly +rose, shook himself, and trotted out on to the lawn, sniffing the +air with ears and tail erect. Walden watched him abstractedly. + +"Perhaps he scents a future enemy in Miss Vancourt's dog, Plato!" +And this whimsical idea made him smile. "He is quite intelligent +enough. He is certainly more intelligent than I am this afternoon, +for I cannot write even a commonplace ordinary note to a commonplace +ordinary woman!" Here a sly brain-devil whispered that Miss Vancourt +might possibly be neither commonplace nor ordinary,--but he put the +suggestion aside with a 'Get thee behind me, Satan' inflexibility. +"The fact is, I had better not write to her at all. I'll send +Bainton with a verbal message; he is sure to give a quaint and +pleasant turn to it,--he knew her father, and I didn't;--it will be +much better to send Bainton." + +Having made this resolve, his brow cleared, and he was more +satisfied. Tearing up the last half sheet of wasted note-paper he +had spoilt in futile attempts to address the lady of the Manor, he +laughed at his failures. + +"Even if it were etiquette to use the old Roman form of +correspondence, which some people think ought to be revived, it +wouldn't do in this case," he said. "Imagine it! 'John Walden to +Maryllia Vancourt,--Greeting!' How unutterably, how stupendously +ridiculous it would look!" + +He shut all his writing materials in his desk, and following Nebbie +out to the lawn, seated himself with a volume of Owen Meredith in +his hand. He was soon absorbed. Yet every now and again his thoughts +strayed to the Five Sisters, and with persistent fidelity of detail +his mind's eye showed him the grassy knoll so soft to the tread, +where the doomed trees stood proudly and gracefully, clad just at +this season all in a glorious panoply of young green,--where, as the +poet whose tender word melodies he was reading might have said of +the surroundings: + +"For moisture of sweet showers, All the grass is thick with +flowers." + +"Yes, I shall send Bainton up to the Manor with a civil message," he +mused--"and he can--and certainly will--add anything else to it he +likes. Of course the lady may be offended,--some women take offence +at anything--but I don't much care if she is. My conscience will not +reproach me for having warned her of the impending destruction of +one of the most picturesque portions of her property. But +personally, I shall not write to her, nor will I go to see her. I +shall have to pay a formal call, of course, in a week or two,--but I +need not go inside the Manor for that. To leave my card, as minister +of the parish, will be quite sufficient." + +He turned again to the volume in his hand. His eyes fell casually on +a verse in the poem of 'Resurrection': + +"The world is filled with folly and sin; And Love must cling where +it can, I say,--For Beauty is easy enough to win, But one isn't +loved every day." + +He sighed involuntarily. Then to banish an unacknowledged regret, he +began to criticise his author. + +"If the world and the ambitions of diplomatic service had not +stepped in between Lord Lytton and his muse, he would have been a +fine poet," he said half aloud;--"A pity he was not born obscurely +and in poverty--he would have been wholly great, instead of as now, +merely greatly gifted. He missed his true vocation. So many of us do +likewise. I often wonder whether I have missed mine?" + +But this idea brooked no consideration. He knew he had not mistaken +his calling. He was the very man for it. Many of his 'cloth' might +have taken a lesson from him in the whole art of unselfish +ministration to the needs of others. But with all his high spiritual +aim, he was essentially human, and pleasantly conscious of his own +failings and obstinacies. He did not hold himself as above the +weaker brethren, but as one with them, and of them. And through the +steady maintenance of this mental attitude, he found himself able to +participate in ordinary emotions, ordinary interests and ordinary +lives with small and outlying parishes in the concerns of the people +committed to their charge. It is not too much to say that though he +was in himself distinctly reserved and apart from the average +majority of men, the quiet exercise of his influence over the +village of St. Rest had resulted in so attracting and fastening the +fibres of love and confidence in all the hearts about him to his +own, that anything of serious harm occurring to himself, would have +been considered in the light of real fatality and ruin to the whole +community. When a clergyman can succeed in establishing such +complete trust and sympathy between himself and his parishioners, +there can be no question of his fitness for the high vocation to +which he has been ordained. When, on the contrary, one finds a +village or town where the inhabitants are split up into small and +quarrelsome sects, and are more or less in a state of objective +ferment against the minister who should be their ruling head, the +blame is presumably more with the minister than with those who +dispute his teaching, inasmuch as he must have fallen far below the +expected standard in some way or other, to have thus incurred +general animosity. + +"If all fails," mused Walden presently, his thoughts again reverting +to the Five Sisters' question,--"If Bainton does his errand +awkwardly,--if the lady will not see him,--if any one of the +thousand things do happen that are quite likely to happen, and so +spoil all chance of interceding with Miss Vancourt to spare the +trees,--why then I will go myself to-morrow morning to the scene of +intended massacre before six o'clock. I will be there before an axe +is lifted! And if Bainton meant anything at all by his hint, others +will be there too! Yes!--I shall go,--in fact it will be my duty to +go in case of a row." + +A smile showed itself under his silver-brown moustache. The idea of +a row seemed not altogether unpleasant to him. He stooped and patted +his dog playfully. + +"Nebuchadnezzar!" he said, with mock solemnity; whereat Nebbie, +lying at his feet, opened one eye, blinked it lazily and wagged his +tail--"Nebuchadnezzar, I think our presence will be needed to-morrow +morning at an early hour, in attendance on the Five Sisters! Do you +hear me, Nebuchadnezzar?" Again Nebbie blinked. "Good! That wink +expresses understanding. We shall have to be there, in case of a +row." + +Nebbie yawned, stretched out his paws, and closed both eyes in +peaceful slumber. It was a beautiful afternoon;--'sufficient for the +day was the evil thereof' according to Nebbie. The Reverend John +turned over a few more pages of Owen Meredith, and presently came to +the conclusion that he would go punting. The decision was no sooner +arrived at than he prepared to carry it out. Nebbie awoke with a +start from his doze to see his master on the move, and quickly +trotted after him across the lawn to the river. Here, the sole +occupant of the shining stream was a maternal swan, white as a cloud +on the summit of Mont Blanc, floating in stately ease up and down +the water, carrying her young brood of cygnets on her back, under +the snowy curve of her arching wings. Walden unchained the punt and +sprang into it,--Nebbie dutifully following,--and then divested +himself of his coat. He was just about to take the punting pole in +hand, when Bainton's figure suddenly emerged from the shrubbery. + +"Off on the wild wave, Passon, are ye?" he observed,--"Well, it's a +fine day for it! M'appen you ain't seen the corpses of four rats +anywhere around? No? Then I 'spect their lovin' relations must ha' +been an' ate 'em up, which may be their pertikler way of doin' +funerals. I nabbed 'em all last night in the new traps of my own +invention. mebbe the lilies will be all the better for their loss. +I'll be catchin' some more this evenin'. Lord; Passon, if you was to +'old out offers of a shillin' a head, the rats 'ud be gone in no +time,--an' the lilies too!" + +Walden absorbed in getting his punt out, only smiled and nodded +acquiescingly. + +"The train must ha' been poonctual," went on Bainton, staring +stolidly at the shining water. "Amazin' poonctual for once in its +life. For a one 'oss fly, goin' at a one 'oss fly pace, 'as jes' +passed through the village, and is jiggitin' up to the Manor this +very minute. I s'pose Miss Vancourt's inside it." + +Walden paused,--punt-pole in hand. + +"Yes, I suppose she is," he rejoined. "Come to me at six o'clock, +Bainton. I shall want you." + +"Very good, sir!" + +The pole splashed in the water,--the punt shot out into the clear +stream,--Nebbie gave two short barks, as was his custom when he +found himself being helplessly borne away from dry land,--and in a +few seconds Walden had disappeared round one of the bends of the +river. Bainton stood ruminating for a minute. + +"Jest a one 'oss fly, goin' at a one 'oss fly pace!" he repeated, +slowly;--"It's a cheap way of comin' 'ome to one's father's 'Alls-- +jest in a one 'oss fly! She might ha' ordered a kerridge an' pair by +telegram, an' dashed it up in fine style, but a one 'oss fly! It do +take the edge off a 'ome-comin'!--it do reely now." + +And with a kind of short grunt at the vanity and disappointment of +human expectations, he went his way to the kitchen garden, there to +'chew the cud of sweet and bitter memory' over the asparagus beds, +which were in a highly promising condition. + + + + +VIII + + +The one-horse fly, going at a one-horse fly pace, had made its way +with comfortable jaunting slowness from Riversford to St. Rest, its +stout, heavy-faced driver being altogether unconscious that his fare +was no less a personage than Miss Vancourt, the lady of the Manor. +When a small, girlish person, clad in a plain, close-fitting garb of +navy-blue serge, and wearing a simple yet coquettish dark straw hat +to match, accosted him at the Riversford railway station with a +brief, 'Cab, please,' and sprang into his vehicle, he was a trifle +sulky at being engaged in such a haphazard fashion by an apparently +insignificant young female who had no luggage, not so much as a +handbag. + +"Wheer be you a-goin'?" he demanded, turning his bull neck slowly +round--"I baint pertikler for a far journey." + +"Aren't you?" and the young lady smiled. "You must drive me to St. +Rest,--Abbot's Manor, please!" + +The heavy-faced driver paused, considering. Should he perform the +journey, or should he not? Perhaps it would be wisest to undertake +the job,--there was the 'Mother Huff' at the end of the journey, and +Roger Buggins was a friend of his. Yes,--he would take the risk of +conveying the humbly-clad female up to the Manor; he had heard +rumours that the old place was once again to be inhabited, and that +the mistress of it was daily expected;--this person in the blue +serge was probably one of her messengers or retainers. + +"My fare's ten shillings," he observed, still peering round +distrustfully; "It's a good seven mile up hill and down dale." + +"All right!" responded the young woman, cheerfully; "You shall have +ten shillings. Only please begin to go, won't you?" + +This request was accompanied by an arch smile, and a flash of blue +eyes from under the dark straw hat brim. Whereat the cumbrous Jehu +was faintly moved to a responsive grin. + +"She ain't bad-looking, neither!" he muttered to himself,--and he +was in a somewhat better humour when at last he ondescended to +start. His vehicle was a closed one, and though be fully expected +his passenger would put her head out of the window, when the horse +was labouring up-hill, and entreat him to go faster,--which habit he +had found by experience was customary to woman in a one-horse fly,- +-nothing of the kind happened on this occasion. The person in the +blue serge was evidently both patient and undemonstrative. Whether +the horse crawled or slouched, or trotted,--whether the fly dragged, +or bumped, or jolted, she made no sign. When St. Rest was reached at +last, and the driver whipped his steed into a semblance of spirit, +and drove through the little village with a clatter, two or three +people came to the doors of their cottages and looked at the vehicle +scrutinisingly, wondering whether its occupant was, or was not Miss +Vancourt. But a meaning wink from the sage on the box intimated that +they need not trouble themselves,--the 'fare' was no one of the +least importance. + +Presently, the fine old armorial gates of the drive which led up to +Abbot's Manor were reached,--they were set wide open, this having +been done according to Mrs. Spruce's orders. A woman at the lodge +came hastily out, but the cab had passed her before she had time to +see who was in it. Up through the grand avenue of stately oaks and +broad-branching elms, whose boughs, rich with the budding green, +swayed in the light wind with a soft rustling sound as of sweeping +silks on velvet, the unostentatious vehicle jogged slowly,--it was a +steady ascent all the way, and the driver was duly considerate of +his animal's capabilities. At last came the turn in the long +approach, which showed the whole width of the Manor, with its +ancient rose-brick frontage and glorious oaken gables shining in the +warm afternoon sunlight,--the old Tudor courtyard spreading before +it, its grey walls and paving stones half hidden in a wilderness of +spring blossom. Here, too, the gates were open, and the one-horse +fly made its lumbering and awkward entrance within, drawing up with +a jerk at the carved portico. The young person in blue serge jumped +out, purse in hand. + +"Ten shillings, I think?" she said; but before the driver could +answer her, the great iron-clamped door of the Manor swung open, and +a respectable retainer in black stood on the threshold. + +"Oh, will you pay the driver, please?" said the young lady, +addressing this functionary; "He says his fare is ten shillings. I +daresay he would like an extra five shillings for himself as well," +and she smiled--"Here it is!" + +She handed the money to the personage in black, who was no other +than the former butler to Sir Morton Pippitt, now at the Manor on +temp'ry service,' and who in turn presented it with an official +stateliness to the startled fly-man, who was just waking up to the +fact that his fare, whom he had considered as a person of no account +whatever, was the actual mistress of the Manor. + +"Drive out to the left of the court," said the butler imperatively; +"Reverse way to which you entered." + +The submissive Jehu prepared to obey. The young person in blue serge +smiled up at him. + +"Good afternoon!" said she. + +"Same to you, mum!" he replied, touching his cap; "And thank ye +kindly!" + +Whereat, his stock of eloquence being exhausted, he whipped up his +steed to a gallop and departed in haste for the 'Mother Huff,' full +of eagerness to relate the news of Miss Vancourt's arrival, further +embellished by the fact that he had himself driven her up from the +station, 'all unbeknown like.' + +Miss Vancourt herself, meanwhile, stepped into her ancestral halls, +and stood for a moment, silent, looking round her with a wistful, +almost pathetic earnestness. + +"Tea is served in the morning-room, Madam," said the butler +respectfully, all the time wondering whether this slight, childlike- +looking creature was really Miss Vancourt, or some young friend of +hers sent as an advance herald of her arrival. "Mrs. Spruce thought +you would find it comfortable there." + +"Mrs. Spruce!" exclaimed the girl, eagerly; "Where is she?" + +"Here, ma'am-here, my lady," said a quavering voice-and Mrs. Spruce, +presenting quite a comely and maternal aspect in her best black silk +gown, and old-fashioned cap, with lace lappets, such as the late +Squire had always insisted on her wearing, came forward curtseying +nervously. + +"I hope, ma'am, you've had a pleasant journey--" + +But her carefully prepared sentence was cut short by a pair of arms +being flung suddenly round her, and a fresh face pressed against her +own. + +"Dear Mrs. Spruce! I am so glad to see you! You knew me when I was +quite a little thing, didn't you? And you knew my father, too! You +were very fond of my father, weren't you? I am sure you were! You +must try to be fond of me now!" + +Never, as Mrs. Spruce was afterwards wont to declare, had she been +so 'took back,' as by the unaffected spontaneity and sweetness of +this greeting on the part of the new mistress, whose advent she had +so greatly feared. She went, to quote her own words, 'all of a +fluster like, and near busted out cryin'. It was like a dear lovin' +little child comin' 'ome, and made me feel that queer you might have +knocked me down with a soap-bubble!' + +Whatever the worthy woman's feelings were, and however much the +respectable butler, whose name was Primmins, might have been +astonished in his own stately mind at Miss Vancourt's greeting of +her father's old servant, Miss Vancourt herself was quite +unconscious of any loss of dignity on her own part. + +"I am so glad!" she repeated; "It's like finding a friend at home to +find you, Spruce! I had quite forgotten what you looked like, but I +begin to remember now--you were always nice and kind, and you always +managed so well, didn't you? Yes, I'm sure you did! The man said tea +was in the morning-room. You come and pour it out for me, like a +dear old thing! I'm going to live alone in my own home now for +always,--for always!" she repeated, emphatically; "Nobody shall ever +take me away from it again!" + +She linked her arm confidingly in that of Mrs. Spruce, who for once +was too much astonished to speak,--Miss Vancourt was so entirely +different to the chill and reserved personage her imagination had +depicted, that she was quite at a loss how to look or what to say. + +"Is this the way?" asked Maryllia, stepping lightly past the stuffed +knight in armour; "Yes? I thought it was! I begin to remember +everything now! Oh, how I wish I had never gone away from this dear +old home!" + +She entered the morning-room, guiding Mrs. Spruce, rather than being +guided by her,--for as that worthy woman averred to Primmins at +supper that self-same night: "I was so all in a tremble and +puspration with 'er 'oldin' on to my arm and takin' me round, that I +was like the man in the Testymen what had dumb devils,--and scarcely +knew what ground my feet was a-fallin' on!" The cheerful air of +welcome which pervaded this charming, sunny apartment, with its +lattice windows fronting the wide stretch of velvety lawn, terrace +and park-land, delighted Maryllia, and she loosened her hold on Mrs. +Spruce's arm with a little cry of pleasure, as a huge magnificently +coated Newfoundland dog rose from his recumbent position near the +window, and came to greet her with slow and expansive waggings of +his great plumy tail. + +"Plato, my beauty!" she exclaimed; "How do you like Abbot's Manor, +boy? Eh? Quite at home, aren't you! Good dog! Isn't he a king of +dogs?" And she turned her smiling face on Mrs. Spruce. "A real king! +I bought him because he was so big! Weren't you frightened when you +saw such a monster?--and didn't you think he would bite everybody on +the least provocation? But he wouldn't, you know! He's a perfect +darling--as gentle as a lamb! He would kill anyone that wanted to +hurt me--oh, yes of course!--that's why I love him!" + +And she patted the enormous creature's broad head tenderly. + +"He's my only true friend!" she continued; "Money wouldn't buy HIS +fidelity!" Here, glancing at Mrs. Spruce, she laughed merrily. "Dear +Mrs. Spruce! You DO look so uncomfortable!--so--so warm! It IS warm, +isn't it? Make me some tea!--tea cools one, they say, though it's +hot to drink at first. We'll talk afterwards!" + +Mrs. Spruce, with inaudible murmurings, hastened to the tea-tray, +and tried to compose her agitated nerves by bringing her attention +to bear on the silver tea-kettle which Primmins had just brought in, +and in which the water was beginning to bubble, in obedience to the +newly-kindled flame of the spirit-lamp beneath. + +Maryllia, meanwhile, stepped out on the grass terrace in front of +the window, with the dog Plato at her side, and looked long and +earnestly at the fair stretch of woodland scenery before her. While +she thus stood absorbed, Mrs. Spruce stole covert glances at her +with increased wonder and bewilderment. She looked much younger than +her twenty-seven years,--her childlike figure and face portrayed her +as about eighteen, not more. She stood rather under than over the +medium height of woman,--yet she gave the impression of being taller +than she actually was, owing to the graceful curve of her arched +neck, which rose from her shoulders with a daintily-proud poise, +marking her demeanour as exceptional and altogether different to +that of ordinary women. Her back being turned to Mrs. Spruce for the +moment, that sagacious dame decided that she was 'real stately, for +all that she was small,' and also noted that her hair, coiled +loosely in a thick knot, which pushed itself with rebellious fulness +beyond the close-fitting edge of the dark straw hat she wore, was of +a warm auburn gold, rippling here and there into shades of darker +brown. Suddenly, with a decided movement, she turned from the +terrace and re-entered the morning-room. + +"Tea ready?" she asked. + +"Yes, ma'am!--yes, miss--my lady--it's just made--perhaps it's best +to let it draw a bit--" + +"I don't like it strong!" said Maryllia, sitting down, and leisurely +taking off her hat; "And you mustn't call me 'my lady.' I'm not the +daughter of an earl, or the wife of a knight. If I were Scotch, I +might say 'I'm Mclntosh of Mclntosh'; or some other Mac of Mac,--but +being English, I'm Vancourt of Vancourt! And you must call me +'Miss,' till I become 'Ma'am.' I don't want to bear any unnecessary +dignities before my time! In fact, I think you'd better call me Miss +Maryllia, as you used to do when my father was alive." + +"Very well, ma'am--miss--Miss Maryllia," faltered Mrs. Spruce, +fumbling distractedly with the tea-things, and putting cream and +sugar recklessly into three or four cups without thinking; "There! +Really, I don't know what I am a-doin' of--do you like cream and +sugar, my dear?--beggin' your parding--Miss Maryllia?" + +"Yes, I like cream and sugar both," replied the young lady with a +mirthful gleam in her eyes, as she noted the old housekeeper's +confusion; "But don't spoil the tea with either! If you put too much +cream, you will make the tea cold,--if you put too much sugar, you +will make it syrupy,--you must arrive at the juste milieu in a cup +of tea! I am VERY particular!" + +Poor Mrs. Spruce grew warmer and redder in the face than ever. What +was the 'juste milieu'? Often and often afterwards did she puzzle +over that remarkable phrase. + +"I think," continued Maryllia, with a dimpling smile, "if you put +one lump of sugar in the cup and two brimming tea-spoonfuls of +cream, it will be exactly right!" + +Gladly, and with relief, Mrs. Spruce obeyed these explicit +instructions, and handed her new mistress the desired refreshment +with assiduous and respectful care. + +"You are a dear!" said Maryllia, lazily taking the cup from her +hand; "Just the kindest and nicest of persons! And good-tempered? I +am sure you are good-tempered, aren't you?" + +"Pretty well so, Miss," responded Mrs. Spruce, now gaining courage +to look at the fair smiling face opposite her own, more squarely and +openly; "Leastways, I've been told I keeps my 'ead under any amount +of kitchen jawin'. For, as you may believe me, in a kitchen where +there's men as well as women, an' a servants' 'All leadin' straight +through from the kitchen, jawin' there is and jawin' there must be, +and such bein' the Lord's will, we must put up with it. But it wants +a 'ead to keep things straight, and I generally arranges pretty +well, though I'll not deny but I'm a bit flustered to-day,-- +howsomever, it will soon be all right, and any think that's wrong, +Miss, if you will be so good as to tell me--" + +"I will!" said Maryllia, sweetly; and she leaned back in her chair, +whimsically surveying the garrulous old dame with eyes which Mrs. +Spruce then and there discovered to be 'the most beautiful blue eyes +ever seen,'--"I will tell you all I do like, and all I don't like. +I'm sure we shall get on well together. The tea is perfect,--and +this room is exquisite. In fact, everything is delightful, and I'm +so happy to be in my own home once more! I wish I had never left +it!" + +Her eyes darkened suddenly, and she sighed. Mrs. Spruce watched her +in submissive silence, realising as she gazed that Miss Maryllia was +'a real beauty and no mistake.' Why and how she came to that +conclusion, she could not very well have explained. Her ideas of +feminine loveliness were somewhat hazy and restricted. She privately +considered her own girl, Kitty, 'the handsomest lass in all the +country-side' and she had been known to bitterly depreciate what she +called 'the pink and white dolly-face' of Susie Prescott, the +acknowledged young belle of the village. But there was an +indefinable air of charm about her new lady which was quite foreign +to all her experience,--a bewildering grace and ease of manner +arising from high education and social cultivation, that confused +her and robbed her of all her usual self-sufficiency; and for once +in her life she checked her customary volubility and decided that it +was perhaps best to say as little as possible till she saw exactly +how things were going to turn out. Miss Maryllia was very kind,--but +who could tell whether she was not also capricious? There was +something slightly quizzical as well as sweet in her smile,-- +something subtle--something almost mysterious. She had greeted her +father's old servant as affectionately as a child,--but her +enthusiasm might be only temporary. So Mrs. Spruce vaguely reflected +as she stood with her hands folded on her apron, waiting for the +next word. That next word came with a startling suddenness. + +"Oh, you wicked Spruce! How could you!" + +And Maryllia, springing up from her chair, made a bound to the +opposite corner of the room, where there was a tall vase filled with +peacocks' feathers. Gathering all these in her hand, she flourished +them dramatically in the old housekeeper's face. + +"The most unlucky things in the world!" she exclaimed; "Peacocks' +feathers! How could you allow them to be in this room on the very +day of my return! It's dreadful!--quite dreadful!--you know it is! +Nothing is quite so awful as a peacock's feather!" + +Mrs. Spruce stared, gasped and blinked,--her hand involuntarily +wandered to her side in search for convenient 'spasms.' + +"They've always been 'ere, Miss," she stammered; "I 'adn't no idee +as 'ow you wouldn't like them, though to tell the truth, I 'ave +'eard somethin' about their bein' onlucky---" + +"Unlucky! I should think so!" replied Maryllia, holding the +objectionable plumes as far away from herself as possible,--"No +wonder we've been unfortunate, if these feathers were always in the +old house! No wonder everything went wrong! I must break the spell +at once and for ever. Are there more of these horrible 'witch-eyes' +in any of the rooms?" + +Poor Mrs. Spruce made a great effort to cudgel her memory. She was +affected by 'a palpitation,' as she expressed it. There was her +newly-arrived mistress confronting her with the authoritative air of +a young empress, holding the bunch of glittering peacocks' plumes +aloft, like a rod uplifted for summary chastisement, and asking her +to instantly remember whether there were any more 'horrible witch- +eyes' about. Mrs. Spruce had never before heard such a term applied +to the tail-sheddings of the imperial fowl,--but she never forgot +it, and never afterwards saw a peacock's feather without a qualm. + +"I couldn't say, Miss; I'm not sure--" she answered flutteringly; +"But I'll have every 'ole and corner searched to-morrow---" + +"No, to-night!" said Maryllia, with determination; "I will not sleep +in the house if ONE peacock's feather remains in it! There!" Her +brows were bent tragically;--in another moment she laughed; "Take +them away!" she continued, picking up Mrs. Spruce's apron at the +corners and huddling all the glittering plumage into its capacious +folds; "Take them all away! And go right through the house, and +collect every remaining feather you can find--and then--and then---" + +Here she paused dubiously. "You mustn't burn them, you know! That +would be unluckier still!" + +"Lor! Would it now, Miss? I never should 'ave thought it!" murmured +Mrs. Spruce plaintively, grasping her apronful of 'horrible witch- +eyes'; "What on earth shall I do with them?" + +Maryllia considered. Very pretty she looked at that moment, with one +small finger placed meditatively on her lips, which were curved +close like a folded rosebud. "You must either bury them, or drown +them!" she said at last, with the gravest decision; "If you drown +them, you must tie them to a stone, so that they will not float. If +you bury them, you must dig ten feet deep! You must really! If you +don't, they will all come up again, and the eyes will be all over +the place, haunting you!" Here she broke into the merriest little +laugh possible. "Poor Spruce! You do look so miserable! See here-- +I'll tell you what to do! Pack them ail in a box, and I will send +them to my aunt Emily! She loves them! She likes to see them stuck +all over the drawing-room. They're never unlucky to her. She has a +fellow-feeling for peacocks; there is a sort of affinity between +herself and them! Pack up every feather you can find, Spruce! The +box must go to-night by parcel's post Address to Mrs. Fred Vancourt, +at the Langham Hotel. She's staying there just now. Will you be sure +to send them off to-night?" + +She held up her little white hand entreatingly, and her blue eyes +wonderfully sweet and childlike, yet grave and passionate, looked +straight into the elder woman's wrinkled apple face. + +"When she looked at me like that, I'd a gone barefoot to kingdom- +come for her!" Mrs. Spruce afterwards declared to some of her +village intimates--"And as for the peacocks' feathers, I'd a +scrubbed though the 'ole 'ouse from top to bottom afore I'd a let +one be in it!" + +To Maryllia she said: + +"You may take my word for it, Miss! They'll all go out of the 'ouse +'fore seven o'clock. I'll send them myself to the post." + +"Thank you, so much!" said Maryllia, with a comical little sigh of +relief. "And now, Spruce, I will go to my bedroom and lie down for +an hour. I'm just a little tired. Have you managed to get a maid for +me?" + +"Well, Miss, there's jest a gel-she don't know anythink much, but +she's 'andy and willin' and 'umble, and quick with her needle, and +tidy at foldin', and got a good character. She's the best I could +do, Miss. Her name is Nancy Pyrle--I'll send her to you directly." + +"Yes, do!" answered Miss Vancourt, with a little yawn; "And show me +to my rooms;--you prepared the ones I told you--my mother's rooms?" + +"Yes, Miss," answered Mrs. Spruce in subdued accents; "I've made +them all fresh and sweet and clean; but of course the furniture is +left jest as it was when the Squire locked 'em all up after he lost +his lady--" + +Maryllia said nothing, but followed the housekeeper upstairs, the +great dog Plato in attendance on her steps. On reaching the bedroom, +hung with faded rose silk hangings, and furnished with sixteenth +century oak, she looked at everything: with a curious wistfulness +and reverence. Approaching the dressing-table, she glanced at her +own reflection in the mirror; but fair as the reflection was that +glanced back at her, she gave it no smile. She was serious and +absorbed, and her eyes were clouded with a sudden mist of tears. +Mrs. Spruce took the opportunity to slip away with her collection of +peacocks' feathers, and descended in haste to the kitchen, where for +some time the various orders she issued caused much domestic +perturbation, and fully expressed the chaotic condition of her own +mind. The maid, Nancy Pyrle, was hustled off to 'wait on Miss +Vancourt upstairs, and don't be clumsy with your 'ands, whatever you +do!'--Primmins, the butler, was sent to remove the tea-things from +the morning-room,--at which command he turned round somewhat +indignantly, asking 'who are you a-orderin' of; don't you think I +know my business?'--Spruce himself, unhappily coming by chance to +the kitchen door to ask if it was really true that Miss Vancourt had +arrived, was shrilly told to 'go along and mind his own business,'-- +and so it happened that when Bainton appeared, charged with the +Reverend John Walden's message concerning the Five Sisters, he might +as well have tried to obtain an unprepared audience with the King, +as to see or speak with the lady of the Manor. Miss Vancourt had +arrived--oh yes, she had certainly arrived, Mrs. Spruce told him, +with much heat and energy; but she was tired and was lying down, and +certainly could not be asked to see anyone, no matter what the +business was. And to make things more emphatic, at the very time +that Bainton was urging his cause, and Mrs. Spruce was firmly +rejecting it, Nancy Pyrle came down from attendance on her mistress +and said that Miss Vancourt was going to sleep a little, and she did +not wish to be disturbed till she rang her bell. + +"Oh, and she's beautiful!" said Nancy, drawing a long breath,--"and +so very kind! She showed me how to do all she wanted--and was that +patient and gentle! She says I'll make quite a good maid after a +bit!" + +"Well, I hope to the Lord you will!" said Mrs. Spruce with a sniffy +"For it's a chance in a 'undred, comin' straight out of the village +to a first situation with, a lady like Miss Vancourt. And I 'ope +you'll profit by it! And if you 'adn't taken the prize for +needlework in the school, you wouldn't 'ave 'ad it, so now you sees +what good it does to serve your elders when you're young." Here she +turned to Bainton, who was standing disconsolately half in and half +out of the kitchen doorway. "I'm real sorry, Mr. Bainton, that you +can't see our lady, more 'specially as you wishes to give a message +from Passon Walden himself--but you jest go back and tell 'im 'ow it +is;--Miss Vancourt is restin' and can't be disturbed nohow." + +Bainton twirled his cap nervously in his hand. + +"I s'pose no one couldn't say to her quiet-like as 'ow the Five +Sisters be chalked?--" + +Mrs. Spruce raised her fat hands with a gesture of dismay. + +"Lor' bless the man!" she exclaimed; "D'ye think we're goin' to +worrit Miss Vancourt with the likes o' that the very first evenin' +she's set foot in 'er own 'ouse? Why, we dussn't! An' that there +great dog Plato lyin' on guard outside 'er door! I've 'ad enough to- +day with peacocks' feathers, let alone the Five Sisters! Besides, +Oliver Leach is agent 'ere, and what he says is sure to be done. She +won't worry 'erself about it,--and you may be pretty certain he +won't be interfered with. You tell Passon Walden I'm real sorry, but +it can't be 'elped." + +Reluctantly, Bainton turned away. He was never much disposed for a +discussion with Mrs. Spruce,--her mind was too illogical, and her +tongue too persistent. Her allusion to peacocks' feathers was +unintelligible to him, and he wondered whether 'anythink she's been +an' took' had gone to her head. Anyway, his errand was foiled for +the moment. But he was not altogether disheartened. He determined +not to go back to Walden with his message quite undelivered. + +"Where there's a will, there's a way!" he said to himself. "I'll go +and do a bit of shoutin' to Spruce,--deaf as he is, he's more +reasonable-like than his old 'ooman!" + +With this resolve, he went his way by a short-cut through Abbot's +Manor gardens to a small thatched shelter in the woods, known as +'the foresters' hut,' where Spruce was generally to be found at +about sunset, smoking a peaceful pipe, alone and well out of his +wife's way. + +Meanwhile, Maryllia Vancourt, lying wide awake on her bed in the +long unused room that was to have been her mother's, experienced +various chaotic sensations of mingled pleasure and pain. For the +first time in her life of full womanhood she was alone,-- +independent,--free to come or go as she listed, with no one to +gainsay her wishes, or place a check on her caprices. She had +deliberately thrown off her aunt's protection; and with that action, +had given up the wealth and luxury with which she had been lavishly +surrounded ever since her father's death. For reasons of her own, +which she considered sufficiently cogent, she had also resigned all +expectations of being her aunt's heiress. She had taken her liberty, +and was prepared to enjoy it. She had professed herself perfectly +contented to live on the comparatively small patrimony secured to +her by her father's will. It was quite enough, she said, for a +single woman,--at any rate, she would make it enough. + +And here she was, in her own old home,--the home of her childhood, +which she was ashamed to think she had well-nigh forgotten. Since +her fifteenth year she had travelled nearly all over the world; +London, Paris, Vienna, New York, had each in turn been her 'home' +under the guidance of her wealthy perambulating American relative; +and in the brilliant vortex of an over-moneyed society, she had been +caught and whirled like a helpless floating straw. Mrs. 'Fred' +Vancourt, as her aunt was familiarly known to the press +paragraphist, had spared no pains to secure for her a grand +marriage,--and every possible advantage that could lead to that one +culminating point, had been offered to her. She had been taught +everything; that could possibly add to her natural gifts of +intelligence; she had been dressed exquisitely, taken about +everywhere, and 'shown off' to all the impecunious noblemen of +Europe;--she had been flattered, praised, admired, petted and +generally spoilt, and had been proposed to by 'eligible' gentlemen +with every recurring season,--but all in vain. She had taken a +singular notion into her head--an idea which her matter-of-fact aunt +told her was supremely ridiculous. She wanted to be loved. + +"Any man can ask a girl to marry him, if he has pluck and +impudence!" she said; "Especially if the girl has money, or +expectations of money, and is not downright deformed, repulsive and +ill-bred. But proposals of marriage don't always mean love. I don't +care a bit about being married,--but I do want to be loved--really +loved!--I want to be 'dear to someone else' as Tennyson sings it,-- +not for what I HAVE, but for what I AM." + +It was this curious, old-fashioned notion of wanting to be loved, +that had estranged Maryllia from her wealthy American protectress. +It had developed from mere fireside argument and occasional +dissension, into downright feud, and its present result was self- +evident. Maryllia had broken her social fetters, and had returned to +her own rightful home in a state which, for her, considered by her +past experience, was one of genteel poverty, but which was also one +of glorious independence. And as she restfully reclined under the +old rose silk hangings which were to have encanopied that perished +beauty from which she derived her own fairness, she was conscious of +a novel and soothing sense of calm. The rush and hurry and frivolity +of society seemed put away and done with; through her open window +she could hear the rustling of leaves and the singing of birds;--the +room in which she found herself pleased her taste as well as her +sentiment,--and though the faintest shadow of vague wonder crossed +her mind as to what she would do with her time, now that she had +gained her own way and was actually all alone in the heart of the +country, she did not permit such a thought to trouble her peace. The +grave tranquillity of the old house was already beginning to exert +its influence on her always quick and perceptive mind,--the dear +remembrance of her father whom she had idolised, and whose sudden +death had been the one awful shock of her life, came back to her now +with a fresh and tender pathos. Little incidents of her childhood +and of its affection, such as she thought she had forgotten, +presented themselves one by one in the faithful recording cells of +her brain,--and the more or less feverish and hurried life she had +been compelled to lead under her aunt's command and chaperonage, +began to efface itself slowly, like a receding coast-line from a +departing vessel. + +"It is home!" she said; "And I have not been in a home for years! +Aunt Emily's houses were never 'home.' And this is MY home--my very +own; the home of our family for generations. I ought to be proud of +it, and I WILL be proud of it! Even Aunt Emily used to say that +Abbot's Manor was a standing proof of the stuck-up pride of the +Vancourts! I'm sure I shall find plenty to do here. I can farm my +own lands and live on the profits--if there are any!" + +She laughed a little, and rising from the bed went to the window and +leaned out. A large white clematis pushed its moonlike blossom up to +her face, as though asking to be kissed, and a bright red butterfly +danced dreamily up and down in the late sunbeams, now poising on the +ivy and anon darting off again into the mild still air. + +"It's perfectly lovely!" said Maryllia, with a little sigh of +content; "And it is all my own!" + +She drew her head in from the window and turned to her mirror. + +"I'm getting old," she said, surveying herself critically, and with +considerable disfavour;--"It's all the result of society 'pressure,' +as they call it. There's a line here--and another there"--indicating +the imaginary facial defects with a small tapering forefinger--"And +I daresay I have some grey hairs, if I could only find them." Here +she untwisted the coil at the back of her head and let it fall in a +soft curling shower round her shoulders--"Oh, yes!--I daresay!" she +went on, addressing her image in the glass; "You think it looks very +pretty--but that is only an 'effect,' you know! It's like the +advertisements the photographers do for the hairdressers; 'Hair- +positively-forced-to-grow-in-six-weeks' sort of thing. Oh, what a +dear old chime!" This, as she heard the ancient clock in the square +turret which overlooked the Tudor courtyard give forth a mellow +tintinnabulation. "What time is it, I wonder?" She glanced at the +tiny trifle of a watch she had taken off and placed on her dressing- +table. "Quarter past seven! I must have had a doze, after all. I +think I will ring for Nancy Pyrle"--and she suited the action to the +word; "I have not the least idea where my clothes are." + +Nancy obeyed the summons with alacrity. She could not help a slight +start as she saw her mistress, looking like 'the picture of an +angel' as she afterwards described it, in her loose white dressing- +gown, with all her hair untwisted and floating over her shoulders. +She had never seen any human creature quite so lovely. + +"Do you know where my dresses are, Nancy?" enquired Maryllia. + +"Yes, Miss. Mrs. Spruce unpacked everything herself, and the dresses +are all hanging in this wardrobe." Here Nancy went to the piece of +furniture in question. "Which one shall I give you, Miss?" + +Maryllia came to her side, and looked scrutinisingly at all the +graceful Parisian and Viennese flimsies that hung in an. orderly row +within the wardrobe, uncertain which to take. At last she settled on +an exceedingly simple white tea-gown, shaped after a Greek model, +and wholly untrimmed, save for a small square gold band at the +throat. + +"This will do!" she decided; "Nobody's coming to dine; I shall be +all alone--" + +The thought struck her as quaint and strange. Nobody coming to +dinner! How very odd! At Aunt Emily's there was always someone, or +several someones, to dinner. To-night she would dine all alone. +Well! It would be a novel experience! + +"Are there any nice people living about here?" she asked Nancy, as +that anxious young woman carefully divested her of her elegant +dressing-gown; "People I should like to know?" + +"Oh, I don't think so, Miss," replied Nancy, quite frankly, watching +in wonder the dexterity and grace with which her mistress swept up +all her hair into one rich twist and knotted it with two big +tortoiseshell hairpins at the back of her head. "There's Sir Morton +Pippitt at Badsworth Hall, three miles from here--" + +Maryllia laughed gaily. + +"Sir Morton Pippitt! What a funny name! Who is he?" + +"Well, Miss, they do say he makes his money at bone-melting; but +he's awful proud for all that--awful proud he is--" + +"Well, I should think so!" said Maryllia, with much solemnity; +"Bone-melting is a great business! Does he melt human bones, Nancy?" + +"Oh, lor', Miss, no!" And Nancy laughed, despite herself; "Not that +I've ever heard on--it's bones of animals he melts and turns into +buttons and such-like." + +"Man is an animal, Nancy," said Maryllia, sententiously, giving one +or two little artistic touches to the loose waves of hair on her +forehead; "Why should not HIS bones be turned into buttons? Why +should HE not be made useful? You may depend upon it, Nancy, human +bones go into Sir Morton What's-his-name's stock-pot. I shouldn't +wonder if he had left his own bones to his business in his will! + + "'Imperial Caesar dead and turned to clay, May stop a hole to + keep the wind away!' + +That's so, Nancy! And is the gentleman who boils bones the only man +about here one could ask to dinner?" + +Nancy reflected. + +"There's the Passon--" she began. + +"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Maryllia, with a little shrug of +impatience; "Worse than the bone-boiler!--a thousand times worse! +There! That will do, Nancy! I'll stroll about till dinner's ready." + +She left the room and descended the stairs, followed by the faithful +Plato, and was soon to be seen by various retainers of the curious +and excited household, walking slowly up and down on the grass +terrace in her flowing white draperies, the afterglow of the sinking +sun shining on her gold-brown hair, and touching up little reddish +ripples in it,--such ripples as were painted by the artist of +Charles the Second's day when he brushed into colour and canvas the +portrait of Mary Elia Adelgisa de Vaignecourt. Primmins, late butler +to the irascible Sir Morton Pippitt, was so taken with the sight of +her that he then and there resolved his 'temp'ry service' should be +life-long, if he could manage to please her; and little Kitty Spruce +being permitted by her mother to peep at the 'new lady' through the +staircase window, could only draw a long breath and ejaculate: "Oh! +Ain't she lovely!" while she followed with eagerly admiring eyes the +gossamer trail of Maryllia's white gown on the soft turf, and +strained her ears to catch the sound of the sweet voice which +suddenly broke out in a careless chansonette: + + "Tu m'aimes, cherie? + Dites-moi! + Seulement un petit 'oui,' + Je demande a toi! + Le bonheur supreme + Vient quand on aime, + N'est-ce-pas cherie? + 'Oui'!" + +"She's singin' to herself!" said the breathless Kitty, whispering to +her mother; "Ain't she jest smilin' and beautiful?" + +"Well, I will own," replied Mrs. Spruce, "she's as different to the +lady _I_ expected as cheese from chalk, which they generally says +chalk from cheese, howsomever, that don't matter. But if I don't +mistake, she's got a will of 'er own, for all that she's so smilin' +and beautiful as you says, Kitty; and now don't YOU go runnin' away +with notions that you can dress like 'er or look like 'er,--for when +once a gel of YOUR make thinks she can imitate the fashions and the +ways of a great lady, she's done for, body and soul! YOU ain't goin' +to wear white gowns and trail 'em up an' down on the grass, nor 'ave +big dogs a-follerin' up an' down while you sings in a furrin +langwidge to yerself; no, not if you was to read all the trashy +story-books in the world--so you needn't think it. For there ain't +no millionaires comin' arter you, as they doos in penny novels,--nor +nothink else what's dished up in newspapers; so jes' wear your +cotton frocks in peace, an' don't worry me with wantin' to look like +Miss Maryllia, for you never won't look like 'er if ye tried till ye +was dead! Remember that, now! The Lord makes a many women,--but now +and again He turns out a few chice samples which won't bear +copyin.'. Miss Maryllia's one of them samples, and we must take 'er +with prayer and thanksgivin' as sich!" + + + + +IX + + +Maryllia's first solitary dinner in the home of her ancestors passed +off with tolerable success. She found something not altogether +unpleasant in being alone after all. Plato was always an +intelligent, well-behaved and dignified companion in his canine way, +and the meal was elegantly served by Primmins, who waited on his new +mistress with as much respect and zeal as if she had been a queen. A +sense of authority and importance began to impress itself upon her +as she sat at the head of her own table in her own dining-hall, with +all the Vandykes and Holbeins and Gainsboroughs gazing placidly down +upon her from their gilded frames, and the flicker of many wax +candles in old silver sconces glancing upon the shields, helmets, +rusty pikes and crossed swords that decorated the panelling of the +walls between and above the pictures. + +"Fancy! No gas and no electric light! It is simply charming!" she +thought, "And so becoming to one's dress and complexion! Only +there's nobody to see the becomingness. But I can soon remedy that. +Lots of people will come down and stay here if I only ask them. +There's one thing quite certain about society folk--they will always +come where they can be lodged and boarded free! They call it country +visiting, but it really means shutting up their houses, dismissing +their servants, and generally economising on their housekeeping +bills. I've seen SUCH a lot of it!" + +She heaved a little sigh over these social reminiscences, and +finished her repast in meditative silence. She had not been +accustomed to much thinking, and to indulge in it at all for any +length of time was actually a novelty. Her aunt had told her never +to think, as it made the face serious, and developed lines on the +forehead. And she had, under this kind of tutelage, became one of a +brilliant, fashionable, dress-loving crowd of women, who spend most +of their lives in caring for their complexions and counting their +lovers. Yet every now and again, a wave of repugnance to such a +useless sort of existence arose in her and made a stormy rebellion. +Surely there was something nobler in life--something higher-- +something more useful and intelligent than the ways and manners of a +physically and morally degenerate society? + +It was a still, calm evening, and the warmth of the sun all day had +drawn such odours from the hearts of the flowers that the air was +weighted with perfume when she wandered out again into her garden +after dinner, and looked up wistfully at the gables of the Manor set +clear against a background of dark blue sky patterned with stars. A +certain gravity oppressed her. There was, after all, something just +a little eerie in the on-coming of night in this secluded woodland +place where she had voluntarily chosen to dwell all alone and +unprotected, rather than lend herself to her aunt's match-making +schemes. + +"Of course," she argued with herself, "I need not stay here if I +don't like it. I can get a paid companion and go travelling,--but, +oh dear, I've had so much travelling!--or I can own myself in the +wrong to Aunt Emily, and marry that wretch Roxmouth,--Oh, no! I +COULD not! I WILL not!" + +She gave an impatient little stamp with her foot, and anon surveyed +the old house with affectionate eyes. + +"You shall be my rescue!" she said, kissing her hand playfully to +the latticed windows,--"You shall turn me into an old-fashioned +lady, fond of making jams and pickles, and preserves and herbal +waters! I'll put away all the idiotic intrigues and silly fooling of +modern society in one of your quaint oaken cupboards, and lock them +all up with little bags of lavender to disinfect them! And I will +wait for someone to come and find me out and love me; and if no one +ever comes--" Here she paused, then went on,--"If no one ever comes, +why then--" and she laughed--"some man will have lost a good chance +of marrying as true a girl as ever lived!--a girl who could love-- +ah!" And she stretched out her pretty rounded arms to the scented +air. "HOW she could love if she were loved!" + +The young moon here put in a shy appearance by showing a fleck of +silver above the highest gable of the Manor. + + "A little diamond peak, + No bigger than an unobserved star, + Or tiny point of fairy scimitar; + Bright signal that she only stooped to tie + Her silver sandals ere deliciously + She bowed unto the heavens her timid head, + Slowly she rose as though she would have fled." + +"There's no doubt," said Maryllia, "that this place is romantic! And +romance is what I've been searching for all my life, and have never +found except in books. Not so much in modern books as in the books +that were written by really poetical and imaginative people sixty or +seventy years ago. Nowadays, the authors that are most praised go in +for what they call 'realism'--and their realism is very UNreal, and +very nasty. For instance, this garden,--these lovely trees,--this +dear old house--all these are real--but much too romantic for a +modern writer. He would rather describe a dusthole and enumerate +every potato paring in it! And here am I--I'm real enough--but I'm +not a bad woman--I haven't got what is euphoniously called 'a past,' +and I don't belong to the right-down vicious company of 'Souls.' So +I should never do for a heroine of latter-day fiction. I'm afraid +I'm abnormal. It's dreadful to be abnormal! One becomes a +'neurotic,' like Lombroso, and all the geniuses. But suppose the +world were full of merely normal people,--people who did nothing but +eat and sleep in the most perfectly healthy and regular manner,--oh, +what a bore it would be! There would be no pictures, no sculpture, +no poetry, no music, no anything worth living for. One MUST have a +few ideas beyond food and clothing!" + +The moon, rose higher and shed a shower of silver over the grass, +lighting up in strong relief the fair face upturned to it. + +"Now the 'Souls' pretend to have ideas," continued Maryllia, still +apostrophising the bland stillness; "But their ideas are low,-- +decidedly low,--and decidedly queer. And that Cabinet Ministers are +in their set doesn't make them any the better. I could have been a +'Soul' if I had liked. I could have learnt a lot of wicked secrets +from the married peer who wanted to be my 'affinity,'--only I +wouldn't. I could have got all the Government 'tips,' gambled with +them on the Stock Exchange, and made quite a fortune as a 'Soul.' +Yet here I am,--no 'Soul,'--but only a poor little body, with +something in me that asks for a higher flight than mere social +intrigue. Just a bit of a higher flight, eh, Plato? What do you +think about it?" + +Plato the leonine, waved his plumy tail responsively and gently +rubbed his great head against her arm. Resting one hand lightly on +his neck, she moved towards the house and slowly ascended the +graduating slopes of the grass terrace. Here she was suddenly met by +Primmins. + +"Beg your pardon, Miss," he said, with an apologetic air, "but +there's an old man from the village come up to see you--a very old +man,--he's had to be carried in a chair, and it's took a couple of +men nigh an hour and a half to bring him along. He says he knew you +years ago--I hardly like to send him away--" + +"Certainly not!--of course you mustn't send him away," said +Maryllia, quickening her steps; "Poor old dear! Where is he?" + +"In the great, hall, Miss. They brought him through the courtyard +and got him in there, before I had time to send them round to the +back entrance." + +Maryllia entered the house. There she was met by Mrs. Spruce, with +uplifted hands. + +"Well, it do beat me altogether, Miss," she exclaimed, "as to how +these silly men, my 'usband, too, one of the silliest, beggin' your +parding, could bring that poor old Josey Letherbarrow up here all +this way! And he not toddled beyond the church this seven or eight +years! And it's all about those blessed Five Sisters they've come, +though I told 'em you can't nohow be worrited and can't see no one-- +" + +"But I can!" said Maryllia decisively; "I can see anyone who wishes +to see me, and I will. Let me pass, Mrs. Spruce, please!" + +Mrs. Spruce, thus abruptly checked, stood meekly aside, controlling +her desire to pour forth fresh remonstrances at the unseemliness of +any person or persons intruding upon the lady of the Manor at so +late an hour in the evening as half-past nine o'clock. Maryllia +hastened into the hall and there found an odd group awaiting her, +composed of three very odd-looking personages,--much more novel and +striking in their oddity than anything that could have been +presented to her view in the social whirl of Paris and London. Josey +Letherbarrow was the central figure, seated bolt upright in a cane +arm-chair, through the lower part of which a strong pole had been +thrust, securely nailed and clamped, as well as tied in a somewhat +impromptu fashion with clothes-line. This pole projected about two +feet on either side of the chair to accommodate the bearers, namely +Spruce and Bainton, who, having set their burden down, were now +wiping their hot faces and perspiring brows with flagrantly coloured +handkerchiefs of an extra large size. As Maryllia appeared, they +abruptly desisted from this occupation and remained motionless, +stricken with sudden confusion and embarrassment. Not so old Josey, +for with unexpected alacrity he got out of his chair and stood +upright, supporting himself on his stick, and doffing his old straw +hat to the light girlish figure that approached him with the grace +of kindliness and sympathy expressed in its every movement. + +"There she be!" he exclaimed; "There be the little gel wot I used to +know when she was a babby, God bless 'er! Jes' the same eyes and +'air and purty face of 'er! Welcome 'ome to th' owld Squire's +daughter, mates! D'ye 'ear me!" And he turned a dim rolling eye of +command on Spruce and Bainton--"I sez welcome 'ome! And when I sez +it I'spect it to be said arter me by the both of ye,--welcome 'ome!" + +Spruce, unable to hear a word of this exordium, smiled sheepishly,-- +and twirling the cap he held, put his coloured handkerchief into it +and squeezed it tightly within the lining. Bainton, with the +impending fate of the Five Sisters in view, judged it advisable not +to irritate or disobey the old gentleman whom he had brought forward +as special pleader in the case, and gathering his wits together he +spoke out bravely. + +"Welcome 'ome, it is, Josey!" he said; "We both sez it, and we both +means it! And we 'opes the young lady will not take it amiss as 'ow +we've come to see 'er on the first night of 'er return, and wish 'er +'appy in the old 'ouse and long may she remain in it!" + +Here he broke off, his eloquence being greatly disturbed by the +gracious smile Maryllia gave him. + +"Thank you so much!" she murmured sweetly; and then going up to +Josey Letherbarrow, she patted the brown wrinkled hand that grasped +the stick. "How kind and good of you to come and see me! And so you +knew me when I was a little girl? I hope I was nice to you! Was I?" + +Josey waved his straw hat speechlessly. His first burst of +enthusiasm over, he was somewhat dazed, and a little uncertain as to +how he should next proceed with his mission, + +"Tell 'er as 'ow the Five Sisters be chalked;" growled Bainton in an +undertone. + +But Josey's mind had gone wandering far afield, groping amid +memories of the past, and his aged eyes were fixed on Maryllia with +a strange look of wonder and remembrance commingled. + +"Th' owld Squire! Th' owld Squire!" he muttered; "I see 'im now--as +broad an' tall and well-set up a gentleman as ever lived--and sez +he: 'Josey, that little white thing is all I've got left of the wife +I was bringin' 'ome to be the sunshine of the old Manor.' Ay, he +said that! 'Its eyes are like those of my Dearest!' Ay, he said +that, too! The little white thing! She's 'ere,--and th' owld +Squire's gone!" + +The pathos of his voice struck Maryllia to the heart,--and for the +moment she could not keep back a few tears that gathered, despite +herself, and glistened on her long lashes. Furtively she dashed them +away, but not before Bainton had seen them. + +"Well, arter all, Josey's nothin' but a meanderin' old idgit!" he +thought angrily: "'Ere 'ave I been an' took 'im for a wise man wot +would know exackly 'ow to begin and ask for the sparin' of the old +trees, and if he ain't gone on the wrong tack altogether and made +the poor little lady cry! I think I'll do a bit of this business +myself while I've got the chance--for if I don't, ten to one he'll +be tellin' the story of the wopses' nest next, and a fine oncommon +show we'll make of ourselves 'ere with our manners." And he coughed +loudly--"Ahem! Josey, will you tell Miss Vancourt about the Five +Sisters, or shall I?" + +Maryllia glanced from one to the other in bewilderment. + +"The Five Sisters!" she echoed; "Who are they?" + +Here Spruce imagined, as he often did, that he had been asked a +question. + +"Such were our orders from Mr. Leach," he said, in his quiet equable +voice; "We's to be there to-morrow marnin' quarter afore six with +ropes and axes." + +"Ropes and axes shall not avail against the finger of the Lord, or +the wrath of the Almighty!" said Josey Letherbarrow, suddenly coming +out of his abstraction; "And if th' owld Squire were alive he +wouldn't have had 'em touched--no, not he! He'd ha' starved sooner! +And if the Five Sisters are laid low, the luck of the Manor will lay +low with 'em! But it's not too late--not too late!"--and he turned +his face, now alive in its every feature with strong emotion, to +Maryllia--"Not too late if the Squire's little gel is still her +father's pride and glory! And that's what I've come for to the Manor +this night,--I ain't been inside the old 'ouse for this ten 'ear or +more, but they's brought me,--me--old Josey,--stiff as I am, and +failin' as I am, to see ye, my dear little gel, and ask ye for God's +love to save the old trees wot 'as waved in the woodland free and +wild for 'undreds o' years, and wot deserves more gratitude from +Abbot's Manor than killin' for long service!" + +He began to tremble with nervous excitement, and Maryllia put her +hand soothingly on his arm. + +"You must sit down, Josey," she said; "You will be so tired +standing! Sit down and tell me all about it! What trees are you +speaking of? And who is going to cut them down! You see I don't know +anything about the place yet,--I've only just arrived--but if they +are my trees, and you say my father would not have wished them to be +cut down, they shan't be cut down!--be sure of that!" + +Josey's eyes sparkled, and he waved his battered hat triumphantly. + +"Didn't I tell ye?" he exclaimed, turning round upon Bainton; +"Didn't I say as 'ow this was the way to do it?--and as 'ow the +little gel wot I knew as a baby would listen to me when she wouldn't +listen to no one else? An' as 'ow the Five Sisters would be spared? +An' worn't I right! Worn't I true?" + +Maryllia smiled. + +"You really must sit down!" she said again, gently persuading him +into his chair, wherein he sank heavily, like a stone, though his +face shone with alertness and vigour. "Primmins!" and she addressed +that functionary who had been standing in the background watching +the little scene; "Bring some glasses of port wine." Primmins +vanished to execute this order. "Now, you dear old man," continued +Maryllia, drawing up an oaken settle close to Josey's knee and +seating herself with a confidential air; "you must tell me just what +you want me to do, and I will do it!" + +She looked a mere child, with her fair face upturned and her +rippling hair falling loosely away from her brows. A great +tenderness softened Josey's eyes as he fixed them upon her. + +"God Almighty bless ye!" he said, raising his trembling hand above +her head; "God bless ye in your uprisin' and downlyin',--and make +the old 'ouse and the old ways sweet to ye! For there's naught like +'ome in a wild wandering world--and naught like love to make +'appiness out of sorrow! God bless ye, dear little gel!--and give ye +all your 'art's desire, if so be it's for your good and guidin'!" + +Instinctively, Maryllia bent her head with a pretty reverence under +the benediction of so venerable a personage, and gently pressed the +wrinkled hand as it slowly dropped again. Then glancing at Bainton, +she said softly: + +"He's very tired, I'm afraid!--perhaps too tired to tell me all he +wishes to say. Will you explain what it is he wants?" + +Bainton, thus adjured, took courage. + +"Thank ye kindly, Miss; and if I may make so bold, it's not what he +wants more'n wot all the village wants and wot we've been 'opin' +against 'ope for, trustin' to the chance of your comin' 'ome to do +it for us. Passon Walden he's a rare good man, and he's done all he +can, and he's been and seen Oliver Leach, but it ain't all no use,-- +-" + +He paused, as Maryllia interrupted him by a gesture. + +"Oliver Leach?" she queried; "He's my agent here, I believe?" + +"Jes' so, Miss--he was put in as agent arter the Squire's death, and +he's been 'ere ever since, bad luck to 'im! And he's been a-cuttin' +down timber on the place whenever he's took a mind to, askin' no by- +your-leaves, and none of us 'adn't no right to say a wurrd, he bein' +master-like--but when it comes to the Five Sisters--why then we sez, +if the Five Sisters lay low there's an end of the pride and +prosperity of the village, an' Passon Walden he be main worrited +about it, for he do love trees like as they were his own brothers, +m'appen more'n brothers, for sometimes there's no love lost twixt +the likes o' they, and beggin' your pardon, Miss, he sent me to ye +with a message from hisself 'fore dinner, but you was a-lyin' down +and couldn't be disturbed nohow, so I goes down to Spruce"--here +Bainton indicated the silent Spruce with a jerk of his thumb--"he be +the forester 'ere, under Mr. Leach's orders, as deaf as a post +unless you 'ollers at him, but a good-meanin' man for all that--and +I sez, 'Spruce, you and me 'ull go an' fetch old Josey Letherbarrow, +and see if bein' the oldest 'n'abitant, as they sez in books, he +can't get a wurrd with Miss Vancourt, and so 'ere we be, Miss, for +the trees be chalked"--and he turned abruptly to Spruce and +bellowed--"Baint the trees chalked for comin' down to-morrow +marnin'? Speak fair!" + +Spruce heard, and at once gave a lucid statement. + +"By Mr. Leach's orders, Miss," he said, addressing Maryllia; "The +five old beech-trees on the knoll, which the village folk call the +'Five Sisters,' are to be felled to-morrow marnin'. They've stood, +so I'm told, an' so I b'lieve, two or three hundred years--" + +"And they're going to be cut down!" exclaimed Maryllia. "I never +heard of such wickedness! How disgraceful!" + +Spruce saw by the movement of her lips that she was speaking, and +therefore at once himself subsided into silence. Bainton again took +up the parable. + +"He's nigh stone-deaf, Miss, so you'll 'scuse him if he don't open +his mouth no more till we shouts at him--but what he sez is true +enough. At six o'clock to-morrow marnin'--" + +Here Primmins entered with the port wine. + +"Primmins, where does the agent, Leach, live?" enquired Maryllia. + +"I really couldn't say, Miss. I'll ask--" + +"'Tain't no use askin'," said Bainton; "He lives a mile out of the +village; but he ain't at 'ome nohow this evenin' bein' gone to +Riversford town for a bit o' gamblin' at cards. Lor', Miss, beggin' +yer pardon, gamblin' with the cards do get rid o' timber--it do +reely now!" + +Maryllia took a glass of port wine from the tray which Primmins +handed to her, and gave it herself to old Josey. Her mind had +entirely grasped the situation, despite the prolix nature of +Bainton's discourse. A group of historic old trees were to be felled +by the agent's orders at six o'clock the next morning unless she +prevented it. That was the sum total of the argument. And here was +something for her to do, and she resolved to do it. + +"Now, Josey," she said with a smile, "you must drink a glass of wine +to my health. And you also--and you!" and she nodded encouragingly +to Spruce and Bainton; "And be quite satisfied about the trees--they +shall not be touched." + +"God bless ye!" said Josey, drinking off his wine at a gulp; "And +long life t'ye and 'appiness to enjoy it!" + +Bainton, with a connoisseur's due appreciation of a good old brand, +sipped at his glass slowly, while Spruce, hastily swallowing his +measure of the cordial, wiped his mouth furtively with the back of +his hand, murmuring: "Your good 'elth, an' many of 'em!" + +"Wishin' ye long days o' peace an' plenty," said Bainton, between +his appreciative sips; "But as fur as the trees is consarned, +you'll'scuse me, Miss, for sayin' it, but the time bein' short, I +don't see 'ow it's goin' to be 'elped, Oliver Leach bein' away, and +no post delivered at his 'ouse till eight o'clock--" + +"I will settle all that," said Maryllia--"You must leave everything +to me. In the meantime,"--and she glanced at Spruce,--then +appealingly turned to Bainton,--"Will you try and make your friend +understand an order I want to give him? Or shall I ask Mrs. Spruce +to come and speak to him?" + +"Lord love ye, he'll be sharper to hear me than his wife, Miss, +beggin' yer pardon," said Bainton, with entire frankness. "He's too +accustomed to her jawin' an' wouldn't get a cleat impression like. +Spruce!" And he uplifted his voice in a roar that made the old +rafters of the hall ring. "Get ready to take Miss Vancourt's orders, +will ye?" + +Spruce was instantly on the alert, and put his hand to his ear. + +"Tell him, please," said Maryllia, still addressing Bainton, "that +he is to meet the agent as arranged at the appointed place to-morrow +morning; but that he is not to take any ropes or axes or any men +with him. He is simply to say that by Miss Vancourt's orders the +trees are not to be touched." + +These words Bainton dutifully bellowed into Spruce's semi-closed +organs of hearing. A look first of astonishment and then of fear +came over the simple fellow's face. + +"I'm afraid," he at last faltered, "that the lady does not know what +a hard man Mr. Leach is; he'll as good as kill me if I go there +alone to him!" + +"Lord love ye, man, you won't be alone!" roared Bainton,--"There's +plenty in the village 'ull take care o' that!" + +"Say to him," continued Maryllia steadily, noting the forester's +troubled countenance, "he must now remember that I am mistress here, +and that my orders, even if given at the last moment, are to be +obeyed." + +"That's it!" chuckled Josey Letherbarrow, knocking his stick on the +ground in a kind of ecstasy,--"That's it! Things ain't goin' to be +as they 'as been now the Squire's little gel is 'ome! That's it!" +And he nodded emphatically. "Give a reskil rope enough an' he'll +'ang hisself by the neck till he be dead, and the Lord ha' mercy on +his soul!" + +Maryllia smiled, watching all her three quaint visitors with a +sensation of mingled interest and whimsical amusement. + +"D'ye hear? You're to tell Leach," shouted Bainton, "that Miss +Vancourt is mistress 'ere, and her orders is to be obeyed at the +last moment! Which you might ha' understood without splittin' my +throat to tell ye, if ye had a little more sense, which, lackin', +'owever, can't be 'elped. What are ye afeard of, eh?" + +"Mr. Leach is a hard man," continued Spruce, anxiously glancing at +Maryllia; "He would lose me my place if he could--:" + +Maryllia heard, and privately decided that the person to lose his +place would be Leach himself. "It is quite exciting!" she thought; +"I was wondering a while ago what I should do to amuse myself in the +country, and here I am called upon at once to remedy wrongs and +settle village feuds! Nothing could be more novel and delightful!" +Aloud, she said,-- + +"None of the people who were in my father's service will lose their +places with me, unless for some very serious fault. Please"--and she +raised her eyes in pretty appeal to Bainton, "Please make everybody +understand that! Are you one of the foresters here?" + +Bainton shook his head. + +"No, Miss,--I'm the Passon's head man. I does all his gardening and +keeps a few flowers growin' in the churchyard. There's a rose +climbin' over the cross on the old Squire's grave what will do ye +good to see, come another fortnight of this warm weather. But +Passon, he be main worrited about the Five Sisters, and knowin' as +'ow I'd worked for the old Squire at 'arvest an,' sich-like, he +thought I might be able to 'splain to ye--" + +"I see!" said Maryllia, thoughtfully, surveying with renewed +interest the old-world figure of Josey Letherbarrow in his clean +smock-frock. "Now, how are you going to get Josey home again?" And a +smile irradiated her face. "Will you carry him along just as you +brought him?" + +"Why, yes, Miss--it'll be all goin' downhill now, and there's a moon, +and it'll be easy work. And if so be we're sure the Five Sisters +'ull be saved--" + +"You may be perfectly certain of it," said Maryllia interrupting him +with a little gesture of decision--"Only you must impress well on +Mr. Spruce here, that my orders are to be obeyed." + +"Beggin' yer pardon, Miss--what Spruce is afeard of is that Leach +may tell him he's a liar, and may jest refuse to obey. That's quite +on the cards, Miss--it is reely now!" + +"Oh, is it, indeed!" and Maryllia's eyes flashed with a sudden fire +that made them look brighter and deeper than ever and revealed a +depth of hidden character not lacking in self-will,--"Well, we shall +see! At any rate, I have given my orders, and I expect them to be +carried out! You understand!" + +"I do, Miss;" and Bainton touched his forelock respectfully; "An' +while we're joggin' easy downhill with Josey, I'll get it well +rubbed into Spruce. And, by yer leave, if you hain't no objection, +I'll tell Passon Walden that sich is your orders, and m'appen he'll +find a way of impressin' Leach straighter than we can." Maryllia +was not particularly disposed to have the parson brought into her +affairs, but she waived the query lightly aside. + +"You can do as you like about that," she said carelessly; "As the +parson is your master, you can of course tell him if you think he +will be interested. But I really don't see why he should be asked to +interfere. My orders are sufficient." + +A very decided ring of authority in the clear voice warned Bainton +that here was a lady who was not to be trifled with, or to be told +this or that, or to be put off from her intentions by any influence +whatsoever. He could not very well offer a reply, so he merely +touched his forelock again and was discreetly silent. Maryllia then +turned playfully to Josey Letherbarrow. + +"Now are you quite happy?" she asked. "Quite easy in your mind about +the trees?" + +"Thanks be to the Lord and you, God bless ye!" said Josey, piously; +"I'm sartin sure the Five Sisters 'ull wave their leaves in the +blessed wind long arter I'm laid under the turf and the daisies! +I'll sleep easy this night for knowin' it, and thank ye kindly and +all blessin' be with ye! And if I never sees ye no more--" + +"Now, Josey, don't talk nonsense!" said Maryllia, with a pretty +little air of protective remonstrance; "Such a clever old person as +you are ought to know better than to be morbid! 'Never see me no +more' indeed! Why I'm coming to see you soon,--very soon! I shall +find out where you live, and I shall pay you a visit! I'm a dreadful +talker! You shall tell me all about the village and the people in +it, and I'm sure I shall learn more from you in an hour than if I +studied the place by myself for a week! Shan't I?" + +Josey was decidedly flattered. The port wine had reddened his nose +and had given an extra twinkle to his eyes. + +"Well, I ain't goin' to deny but what I knows a thing or two--" he +began, with a sly glance at her. + +"Of course you do! Heaps of things! I shall coax them all out of +you! And now, good-night!--No!--don't get up!" for Josey was making +herculean efforts to rise from his chair again. "Just stay where you +are, and let them carry you carefully home. Good-night!" + +She gave a little salute which included all three of her rustic +visitors, and moved away. Passing under the heavily-carved arched +beams of oak which divided the hall from the rest of the house, she +turned her head backward over her shoulder with a smile. + +"Good-night, Ambassador Josey!" + +Josey waved his old hat energetically. + +"Good-night, my beauty! Good-night to Squire's gel! Good-night--" + +But before he could pile on any more epithets, she was gone, and the +butler Primmins stood in her place. + +"I'll help give you a lift down to the gates," he said, surveying +Josey with considerable interest; "You're a game old chap for your +age!" + +Josey was still waving his hat to the dark embrasure through which +Maryllia's white figure had vanished. + +"Ain't she a beauty? Ain't she jest a real Vancourt pride?" he +demanded excitedly; "Lord! We won't know ourselves in a month or +two! You marrk my wurrds, boys! See if what I say don't come true! +Leach may cheat the gallus, but he won't cheat them blue eyes, let +him try ever so! They'll be the Lord's arrows in his skin! You see +if they ain't!" + +Bainton here gave a signal to Spruce, and they hoisted up the +improvised carrying-chair between them, Primmins steadying it +behind. + +"There ain't goin' to be no layin' low of the Five Sisters!" Josey +continued with increasing shrillness and excitement as he was borne +out into the moonlit courtyard; "And there ain't goin' to be no +devil's work round the old Manor no more! Welcome 'ome to Squire's +gel! Welcome 'ome!" + +"Shut up, Josey!" said Bainton, though kindly enough--"You'll soon +part with all the breath you've got in yer body if ye makes a +screech owl of yerself like that in the night air! You's done enough +for once in a way,--keep easy an' quiet while we carries ye back to +the village--ye weighs a hundred pound 'eavier if ye're noisy,--ye +do reely now!" + +Thus adjured, Josey subsided into silence, and what with the joy he +felt at the success of his embassy, the warm still air, and the +soothing influence of the moonlight, he soon fell fast asleep, and +did not wake till he arrived at his own home in safety. Having +deposited him there, and seen to his comfort, Spruce and Bainton +left him to his night's rest, and held a brief colloquy outside his +cottage door. + +"I'm awful 'feard goin' to-morrow marnin' up to the Five Sisters +with ne'er a tool and ne'er a man,--Leach 'ull be that wild!" said +Spruce, his rubicund face paling at the very thought--"If I could +but 'ave 'ad written instructions, like!" + +"Why didn't you ask for 'em while you 'ad the chance?" demanded +Bainton testily; "It's too late now to bother your mind with what ye +might ha' done if ye'd had a bit of gumption. And it's too late for +me to be goin' and speakin' to Passon Walden. There's nothin' to be +done now till the marnin'!" + +"Nothin' to be done till the marnin'," echoed Spruce with a sigh, +catching these words by happy chance; "All the same, she's a fine +young lady, and 'er orders is to be obeyed. She ain't a bit like +what I expected her to be." + +"Nor she ain't what I bet she would be," said Bainton, heedless as +to whether his companion heard him or not; "I've lost 'arf a crown +to my old 'ooman, for I sez, sez I, 'She's bound to be a 'igh an' +mighty stuck-up sort o' miss wot won't never 'ave a wurrd for the +likes of we,' an' my old 'ooman she sez to me: 'Go 'long with ye for +a great silly gawk as ye are; I'll bet ye 'arf a crown she won't +be!' So I sez 'Done,'--an' done it is. For she's just as sweet as +clover in the spring, an' seems as gentle as a lamb,--though I +reckon she's got a will of 'er own and a mind to do what she likes, +when and 'ow she likes. I'll 'ave a fine bit o' talk with Passon +'bout her as soon as iver he gives me the chance." + +"Ay, good-night it is," observed Spruce, placidly taking all these +remarks as evening adieux,--"Yon moon's got 'igh, and it's time for +bed if so be we rises early. Easy rest ye!" + +Bainton nodded. It was all the response necessary. The two then +separated, going their different ways to their different homes, +Spruce having to get back to the Manor and a possible curtain- +lecture from his wife. All the village was soon asleep,--and eleven +o'clock rang from the church-tower over closed cottages in which not +a nicker of lamp or candle was to be seen. The moonbeams shed a +silver rain upon the outlines of the neatly thatched roofs and +barns--illumining with touches of radiance as from heaven, the +beautiful 'God's House' which dominated the whole cluster of humble +habitations. Everything was very quiet,--the little hive of humanity +had ceased buzzing; and the intense stillness was only broken by the +occasional murmur of a ripple breaking from the river against the +pebbly shore. + +Up at the Manor, however, the lights were not yet extinguished. +Maryllia, on the departure of 'Ambassador Josey' as she had called +him, and his two convoys, had sent for Mrs. Spruce and had gone very +closely with her into certain matters connected with Mr. Oliver +Leach. It had been difficult work,--for Mrs. Spruce's garrulity, +combined with her habit of wandering from the immediate point of +discussion, and her anxiety to avoid involving herself or her +husband in trouble, had created a chaotic confusion in her mind, +which somewhat interfered with the lucidity of her statements. +Little by little, however, Maryllia extracted a sufficient number of +facts from her hesitating and reluctant evidence to gain +considerable information on many points respecting the management of +her estate, and she began to feel that her return home was +providential and had been in a manner pre-ordained. She learned all +that Mrs. Spruce could tell her respecting the famous 'Five +Sisters'; how they were the grandest and most venerable trees in all +the country round--and how they stood all together on a grassy +eminence about a mile and a half from the Manor house and on the +Manor lands just beyond the more low-lying woods that spread +between. Whereupon Maryllia decided that she would take an early +ride over her property the next day,--and gave orders that her +favourite mare, 'Cleopatra,' ready saddled and bridled, should be +brought round to the door at five o'clock the next morning. This +being settled, and Mrs. Spruce having also humbly stated that all +the peacock's feathers she could find had been summarily cast forth +from the Manor through the medium of the parcels' post, Maryllia +bade her a kindly good-night. + +"To-morrow," she said, "we will go all over the house together, and +you will explain everything to me. But the first thing to be done is +to save those old trees." + +"Well, no one wouldn't 'ave saved 'em if so be as you 'adn't come +'ome, Miss," declared Mrs. Spruce. "For Mr. Leach he be a man of his +word, and as obs'nate as they makes 'em, which the Lord Almighty +knows men is all made as obs'nate as pigs--and he's been master over +the place like--" + +"More's the pity!" said Maryllia; "But he is master here no longer, +Spruce; I am now both mistress and master. Remember that, please!" + +Mrs. Spruce curtseyed dutifully and withdrew. The close cross- +examination she had undergone respecting Leach had convinced her of +two things,--firstly, that her new mistress, though such a +childlike-looking creature, was no fool,--and secondly, that though +she was perfectly gentle, kind, and even affectionate in her manner, +she evidently had a will of her own, which it seemed likely she +would enforce, if necessary, with considerable vigour and +imperativeness. And so the worthy old housekeeper decided that on +the whole it would be well to be careful--to mind one's P's and Q's +as it were,--to pause before rushing pell-mell into a flood of +unpremeditated speech, and to pay the strictest possible attention +to her regular duties. + +"Then m'appen we'll stay on in the old place," she considered; "But +if we doos those things which we ought not to have done, as they sez +in the prayer-book, we'll get the sack in no time, for all that she +looks so smilin' and girlie-like." + +And so profound were her cogitations on this point that she actually +forgot to give her husband the sound rating she had prepared for him +concerning the part he had taken in bringing Josey Letherbarrow up +to the Manor. Returning from the village in some trepidation, that +harmless man was allowed to go to bed and sleep in peace, with no +more than a reminder shrilled into his ears to be 'up with the dawn, +as Miss Maryllia would be about early.' + +Maryllia herself, meanwhile, quite unconscious that her small +personality had made any marked or tremendous effect upon her +domestics, retired to rest in happy mood. She was glad to be in her +own home, and still more glad to find herself needed there. + +"I've been an absolutely useless creature up till now," she said, +shaking down her hair, after the maid Nancy had disrobed her and +left her for the night. "The fact is, there never was a more utterly +idle and nonsensical creature in the world than I am! I've done +nothing but dress and curl my hair, and polish my face, and dance, +and flirt and frivol the time away. Now, if I only am able to save +five historical old trees, I shall have done something useful;-- +something more than half the women I know would ever take the +trouble to do. For, of course, I suppose I shall have a row,--or as +Aunt Emily would say 'words,'--with the agent. All the better! I +love a fight,--especially with a man who thinks himself wiser than I +am! That is where men are so ridiculous,--they always think +themselves wiser than women, even though some of them can't earn +their own living except through a woman's means. Lots of men will +take a woman's money, and sneer at her while spending it! I know +them!" And she nestled into her bed, with a little cosy cuddling +movement of her soft white shoulders; "'Take all and give nothing!' +is the motto of modern manhood;--I don't admire it,--I don't endorse +it; I never shall! The true motto of love and chivalry should be +'Give all--take nothing'!" + +Midnight chimed from the courtyard turret. She listened to the +mellow clang with a sense of pleased comfort and security. + +"Many people would think of ghosts and all sorts of uncanny things +in an old, old house like this at midnight;" she thought; "But +somehow I don't believe there are any ghosts here. At any rate, not +unpleasant ones;--only dear and loving 'home' ghosts, who will do me +no harm!" + +She soon sank into a restful slumber, and the moonlight poured in +through the old latticed windows, forming a delicate tracery of +silver across the faded rose silken coverlet of the bed, and showing +the fair face, half in light, half in shade, that rested against the +pillow, with the unbound hair scattered loosely on either side of +it, like a white lily between two leaves of gold. And as the hours +wore on, and the silence grew more intense, the slow and somewhat +rusty pendulum of the clock in the tower could just be heard faintly +ticking its way on towards the figures of the dawn. "Give all--take +nothing--Give--all--take--no--thing!" it seemed to say;--the motto +of love and the code of chivalry, according to Maryllia. + + + + +X + + +A thin silver-grey mist floating delicately above the river Rest and +dispersing itself in light wreaths across the flowering banks and +fields, announced the breaking of the dawn,--and John Walden, who +had passed a restless night, threw open his bedroom window widely, +with a sense of relief that at last the time had come again for +movement and action. His blood was warm and tingling with suppressed +excitement,--he was ready for a fight, and felt disposed to enjoy +it. His message to Miss Vancourt had apparently failed,--for on the +previous evening Bainton had sent round word to say that he had been +unable to see the lady before dinner, but that he was going to try +again later on. No result of this second attempt had been +forthcoming, so Walden concluded that his gardener had received a +possibly curt and complete rebuff from the new 'Squire-ess,' and had +been too much disheartened by his failure to come and report it. + +"Never mind!--we'll have a tussle for the trees!" said John to +himself, as after his cold tubbing he swung his dumb-bells to and +fro with the athletic lightness and grace of long practice; "If the +villagers are prepared to contest Leach's right to destroy the Five +Sisters, I'll back them up in it! I will! And I'll speak my mind to +Miss Vancourt too! She is no doubt as apathetic and indifferent to +sentiment as all her 'set,' but if I can prick her through her +pachydermatous society skin, I'll do it!" + +Having got himself into a great heat and glow with this mental +resolve and his physical exertions combined, he hastily donned his +clothes, took his stoutest walking-stick, and sallied forth into the +cool dim air of the as yet undeclared morning, the faithful Nebbie +accompanying him. Scarcely, however, had he shut his garden gate +behind him when Bainton confronted him. + +"Marnin', Passon!" + +"Oh, there you are!" said Walden--"Well, now what's going to be +done?" + +"Nothin's goin' to be done;" rejoined Bainton stolidly, with his +usual inscrutable smile; "Unless m'appen Spruce is 'avin' every bone +broke in his body 'fore we gets there. Ye see, he ain't got no +written orders like,--and mebbe Leach 'ull tell him he's a liar and +that Miss Vancourt's instructions is all my eye!" + +"Miss Vancourt's instructions?" echoed Walden; "Has she given any?" + +"Of coorse she has!" replied Bainton, triumphantly; "Which is that +the trees is not to be touched on no account. And she's told Spruce, +through me,--which I bellowed it all into his ear,--to go and meet +Leach this marnin' up by the Five Sisters and give him 'er message +straight from the shoulder!" + +Walden's face cleared and brightened visibly. + +"I'm glad--I'm very glad!" he said; "I hardly thought she could +sanction such an outrage--but, tell me, how did you manage to give +her my message?" + +"'Tworn't your message at all, Passon, don't you think it!" said +Bainton; "You ain't got so fur as that. She's not the sort o' lady +to take a message from no one, whether passon, pope or emp'rur. Not +she! It was old Josey Letherbarrow as done it." And he related the +incidents of the past evening in a style peculiar to himself, laying +considerable weight on his own remarkable intelligence and foresight +in having secured the 'oldest 'n'abitant' of the village to act as +representative and ambassador for the majority. + +Walden listened with keen interest. + +"Yes,--Leach is likely to be quarrelsome," he said, at its +conclusion; "There's no doubt about that. We mustn't leave Spruce to +bear the brunt of his black rage all alone. Come along, Bainton!--I +will enforce Miss Vancourt's orders myself if necessary." + +This was just what Bainton wanted,--and master and man started off +at a swinging pace for the scene of action, Bainton pouring forth as +he went a glowing description of the wonderful and unexpected charm +of the new mistress of the Manor. + +"There ain't been nothin' like her in our neighbourhood iver at all, +so fur as I can remember," he declared. "A' coorse I must ha' seed +her when I worked for th' owld Squire at whiles, but she was a child +then, an' I ain't a good hand at rememberin' like Josey be, besides +I never takes much 'count of childern runnin' round. But 'ere was we +all a-thinkin' she'd be a 'igh an' mighty fashion-plate, and she +ain't nothin' of the sort, onny jest like a little sugar figure on, +a weddin'-cake wot looks sweet at ye and smiles pleasant,--though +she's got a flash in them eyes of her which minds me of a pony wot +ain't altogether broke in. Josey, he sez them eyes is a-goin' to +finish up Leach,--which mebbe they will and mebbe they won't;--all +the same they's eyes you won't see twice in a lifetime! Lord love +ye, Passon, ain't it strange 'ow the Almighty puts eyes in the 'eads +of women wot ain't a bit like wot he puts in the 'eads of men! We +gets the sight all right, but somehow we misses the beauty. An' +there's plenty of women wot has eyes correct in stock and colour, as +we sez of the flowers,--but they're like p'ison berries, shinin' an' +black an' false-like,--an' if ye touch 'em ye're a dead man. +Howsomever when ye sees eyes like them that was smilin' at old Josey +last night, why it's jest a wonderful thing; and it don't make me +s'prised no more at the Penny Poltry-books wot's got such a lot +about blue eyes in 'em. Blue's the colour--there's no doubt about +it;--there ain't no eye to beat a blue one!" + +Walden heard all this disjointed talk with a certain impatience. +Swinging along at a rapid stride, and glad in a sense that the old +trees were to be saved, he was nevertheless conscious of annoyance,- +-though by whom, or at what he was annoyed, he could not have told. +Plunging into the dewy woods, with all the pungent odours of moss +and violets about his feet, he walked swiftly on, Bainton having +some difficulty to keep up with him. The wakening birds were +beginning to pipe their earliest carols; gorgeously-winged insects, +shaken by the passing of human footsteps from their slumbers in the +cups of flowers, soared into the air like jewels suddenly loosened +from the floating robes of Aurora,--and the gentle stir of rousing +life sent a pulsing wave through the long grass. Every now and again +Bainton glanced up at the 'Passon's' face and murmured under his +breath,--'Blue's the colour--there ain't nowt to beat it!' possibly +inspired thereto by the very decided blue sparkle in the eyes of the +'man of God' who was marching steadily along in the 'Onward +Christian Soldiers' style, with his shoulders well back, his head +well poised, and his whole bearing expressive of both decision and +command. + +Out of the woods they passed into an open clearing, where the +meadows, tenderly green and wet with dew, sloped upwards into small +hillocks, sinking again into deep dingles, adorned with may-trees +that were showing their white buds like little pellets of snow among +the green, and where numerous clusters of blackthorn spread out +lovely lavish tangles of blossom as fine as shreds of bleached wool +or thread-lace upon its jet-like stems. Across these fields dotted +with opening buttercups and daisies, Walden and his 'head man about +the place' made quick way, and climbing the highest portion of the +rising ground just in front of them, arrived at a wide stretch of +peaceful pastoral landscape comprising a fine view of the river in +all its devious windings through fields and pastures, overhung at +many corners with ancient willows, and clasping the village of St. +Rest round about as with a girdle of silver and blue. Here on a +slight eminence stood the venerable sentinels of the fair scene,-- +the glorious old 'Five Sisters' beeches which on this very morning +had been doomed to bid farewell for ever to the kind sky. Noble +creatures were they in their splendid girth and broadly-stretching +branches, which were now all alive with the palest and prettiest +young green,--and as Walden sprang up the thyme-scented turfy ascent +which lifted them proudly above all their compeers, his heart beat +with mingled indignation and gladness,--indignation that such grand +creations of a bountiful Providence should ever have been so much as +threatened with annihilation by a destructive, ill-conditioned human +pigmy like Oliver Leach,--and gladness, that at the last moment +their safety was assured through the intervention of old Josey +Letherbarrow. For, of course Miss Vancourt herself would never have +troubled about them. Walden made himself inwardly positive on that +score. She could have no particular care or taste for trees, John +thought. It was the pathetic pleading of Josey,--his quaint +appearance, his extreme age--and his touching feebleness, which +taken all together had softened the callous heart of the mistress of +the Manor, and had persuaded her to stay the intended outrage. + +"If Josey had asked her to spare a gooseberry bush, she would +probably have consented," said Walden to himself; "He is so old and +frail,--she could hardly have refused his appeal without seeming to +be almost inhuman." + +Here his reflections were abruptly terminated by a clamour of angry +voices, and hastening his steps up the knoll, he there confronted a +group of rough rustic lads gathered in a defensive half-circle round +Spruce who, white and breathless, was bleeding profusely from a deep +cut across his forehead. Opposite him stood Oliver Leach, livid with +rage, grasping a heavy dog-whip. + +"You damned, deaf liar!" he shouted; "Do you think I'm going to take +YOUR word? How dare you disobey my orders! I'll have you kicked off +the place, you and your loud-tongued wife and the whole kit of you! +What d'ye mean by bringing these louts up from the village to bull- +bait me, eh? What d'ye mean by it? I'll have you all locked up in +Riversford jail before the day's much older! You whining cur!" And +he raised his whip threateningly. "I've given you one, and I'll give +you another--" + +"Noa, ye woan't!" said a huge, raw-boned lad, standing out from the +rest. "You woan't strike 'im no more, if ye wants a hull skin! Me +an' my mates 'ull take care o' that! You go whoam, Mister Leach!-- +you go whoam!--you've 'eerd plain as the trees is to be left +stannin'--them's the orders of the new Missis,--and you ain't no +call to be swearin' yerself black in the face, 'cos you can't get +yer own way for once. You're none so prutty lookin' that we woan't +know 'ow to make ye a bit pruttier if ye stays 'ere enny longer!" + +And he grinned suggestively, doubling a portentous fist, and +beginning to roll up his shirt sleeves slowly with an ominous air of +business. + +Leach looked at the group of threatening faces, and pulled from his +pocket a notebook and pencil. + +"I know you all, and I shall take down your names," he said, with +vindictive sharpness, though his lips trembled--"You, Spruce, are +under my authority, and you have deliberately disobeyed my orders--" + +"And you, Leach, are under Miss Vancourt's authority and you are +deliberately refusing to obey your employer's orders!" said Walden, +suddenly emerging from the shadow east by one of the great trees, +"And you have assaulted and wounded Spruce who brought you those +orders. Shame on you, man! Riversford jail is more likely to receive +YOU as a tenant than any of these lads!" Here he turned to the young +men who on seeing their minister had somewhat sheepishly retreated, +lifting their caps and trampling backward on each other's toes; "Go +home, boys," he said peremptorily, yet kindly; "There's nothing for +you to do here. Go home to your breakfasts and your work. The trees +won't be touched--" + +"Oh, won't they!" sneered Leach, now perfectly white with passion; +"Who's going to pay me for the breaking of my contract, I should +like to know? The trees are sold--they were sold as they stand a +fortnight ago,--and down they come to-day, orders or no orders; I'll +have my own men up here at work in less than an hour!" + +Walden turned upon him. + +"Very well then, I shall ask Miss Vancourt to set the police to +watch her trees and take you into custody;" he said, coolly; "If you +have sold the trees standing, to cover your gambling debts, you will +have to UNsell them, that's all! They never were yours to dispose +of;--you can no more sell them than you can sell the Manor. You have +no permission to make money for yourself out of other people's +property. That kind of thing is common thieving, though it MAY +sometimes pass for Estate Agency business!" + +Leach sprang forward, his whip uplifted,--but before it could fall, +with one unanimous yell, the young rustics rushed upon him and +wrested it from his hand. At this moment Bainton, who had been +silently binding Spruce's cut forehead with a red cotton +handkerchief, so that the poor man presented the appearance of a +melodramatic 'stage' warrior, suddenly looked up, uttered an +exclamation, and gave a warning signal. + +"Better not go on wi' the hargyment jes' now, Passon!" he said,-- +"'Ere comes the humpire!" + +Even as he spoke, the quick gallop of hoofs echoed thuddingly on the +velvety turf, and the group of disputants hastily scattered to right +and left, as a magnificent mare, wild-eyed and glossy-coated, dashed +into their centre and came to a swift halt, drawn up in an instant +by the touch of her rider on the rein. All eyes were turned to the +slight woman's figure in the saddle, that sat so easily, that swayed +the reins so lightly, and that seemed as it were, throned high above +them in queenly superiority--a figure wholly unconventional, clad in +a riding-skirt and jacket of a deep soft violet hue, and wearing no +hat to shield the bright hair from the fresh wind that waved its +fair ripples to and fro caressingly and tossed a shining curl loose +from the carelessly twisted braid. Murmurs of 'The new Missis!' 'Th' +owld Squire's darter!'--ran from mouth to mouth, and John Walden, +seized by a sudden embarrassment, withdrew as far as possible into +the shadow of the trees in a kind of nervous hope to escape from the +young lady's decidedly haughty glance, which swept like a flash of +light, round the assembled group and settled at last with chill +scrutiny on the livid and breathless Oliver Leach. + +"You are the agent here, I presume?" + +Maryllia's voice rang cold and clear,--there was not a trace of the +sweet and coaxing tone in it that had warmed the heart of old Josey +Letherbarrow. + +Leach looked up, lifting his cap half reluctantly. + +"I am!" + +"You have had my orders?" + +Leach was silent. The young rustics hustled one another forward, +moved by strong excitement, all eager to see the feminine 'Humpire' +who had descended upon them as suddenly as a vision falling from the +skies, and all wondering what would happen next. + +"You have had my orders?" repeated Maryllia;--then, as no answer was +vouchsafed to her, she looked round and perceived Bainton. To him +she at once addressed herself. + +"Who has struck Spruce?" + +Bainton hesitated. It was an exceedingly awkward position. He looked +appealingly, as was his wont, up into the air and among the highest +branches of the 'Five Sisters' for 'Passon Walden,' but naturally +could not discover him at that elevation. + +"Come, come!" said Maryllia, imperatively--"You are not all deaf, I +hope! Give me a straight answer, one of you! Who struck Spruce?" + +"Mister Leach did!" said the big-boned lad who had constituted +himself Spruce's defender. "We 'eerd down in the village as 'ow +you'd come 'ome, Miss, and as 'ow you'd give your orders that the +Five Sisters was to be left stannin', and we coomed up wi' Spruce to +see 'ow Leach 'ud take it, an' 'fore we could say a wurrd Leach he +up wi' his whip and cut Spruce across the for'ead as ye see--" + +Maryllia raised her hand and silenced him with a gesture. "Thank +you! That will do. I understand!" She turned towards Leach; "What +have you to say for yourself?" "I take no orders from a servant," +replied Leach, insolently; "I have managed this estate for ten +years, and I give in my statements and receive my instructions from +the firm of solicitors who have it in charge. I am not called upon +to accept any different arrangement without proper notice." + +Maryllia heard him out with coldly attentive patience. + +"You will accept a different arrangement without any further notice +at all," she said; "You will leave the premises and resign all +management of my property from this day henceforward. I dismiss you, +for disobedience and insolence, and for assaulting my servant, +Spruce, in the execution of his duty. And as for these trees, if any +man touches a bough of one of them without my permission, I will +have him prosecuted! Now you know my mind!". + +She sat proudly erect in her saddle, while the village hobbledehoys +who had instinctively gathered round her, like steel shavings round +a magnet, fairly gasped for breath. Oliver Leach dismissed! Oliver +Leach, the petty tyrant, the carping, snarling jack-in-office, cast +out like a handful of bad rubbish! It was like a thunderbolt fallen +from heaven and riving the earth on which they stood! Bainton heard, +and could scarcely keep back a chuckle of satisfaction. He longed to +make Spruce understand what was going on, but that unfortunate +individual was slightly stunned by Leach's heavy blow, and sitting +on the grass with his head between his two hands, was gazing, in a +kind of stupefaction at the 'new Missis'; so that any 'bellowing' +into his ear was scarcely possible. + +Leach himself stared blankly and incredulously,--his face crimsoned +with a sudden rush of enraged blood and then paled again, and +changing his former insolent tone for one both fawning and +propitiatory, he stammered out: + +"I am very sorry--I--I beg your pardon, Madam!--if you will give +yourself a little time to consider, you will see I have done my duty +on this property all the time I have been connected with it. I hope +you will not dismiss me for the first fault!--I--I--admit I should +not have struck Spruce,--but--I--I was taken by surprise--I--I know +my business,--and I am not accustomed to be interfered with--" Here +his pent-up anger got the better of him and he again began to +bluster. "I have done my duty--no man better!" he said in fierce +accents. "There's not an acre of woodland here that isn't in a +better condition than it was ten years ago--Ah!--and bringing in +more money too!--and now I am to be turned off for a parcel of +village idiots who hardly know a beech from an elm! I'll make a case +of it! Sir Morton Pippitt knows me--I'll speak to Sir Morton +Pippitt--" + +"Sir Morton Pippitt!" echoed Maryllia disdainfully; "What has he to +do with me or my property?" Here she suddenly spied Walden, who, in +his eagerness to hear every word that passed had, unconsciously to +himself, moved well out of the sheltering shadow of the trees--"Are +YOU Sir Morton Pippitt?" + +A broad grin, deepening into a scarcely suppressed titter, Went the +round of the gaping young rustics. Walden himself smiled,--and +recognising that the time had now come to declare himself, he +advanced a step or two and lifted his hat. + +"I have not that pleasure! I am the minister of this parish, and my +name is John Walden. I'm afraid I am rather a trespasser here!--but +I have loved these old trees for many years, and I came up this +morning,--having heard what your orders were from my gardener +Bainton,--to see that those orders were properly carried out,--and +also to save possible disturbance--" + +He broke off. Maryllia, while he spoke, had eyed him somewhat +critically, and now favoured him with a charming smile. + +"Thank you very much!" she said sweetly; "It was most kind of you! I +wonder--" And she paused, knitting her pretty brows in perplexity; +"I wonder if you could get rid of everybody for me?" + +He glanced up at her in a little wonderment. + +"Could you?" she repeated. + +He drew nearer. + +"Get rid of everybody?--you mean?--" + +She leaned confidentially from her saddle. + +"Yes--YOU know! Send them all about their business! Clergymen can +always do that, can't they? There's really nothing more to be said +or done--the trees shall not be touched,--the matter is finished. +Tell all these big boys to go away--and--oh, YOU know!" + +A twinkle of merriment danced in Walden's eyes. But he turned quite +a set and serious face round on the magnetised lads of the village, +who hung about, loth to lose a single glance or a single word of the +wonderful 'Missis' who had the audacious courage to dismiss Leach. + +"Now, boys!" he said peremptorily; "Clear away home and begin your +day's work! You're not wanted here any longer. The trees are safe,-- +and you can tell everyone what Miss Vancourt says about them. +Bainton! You take these fellows home,--Spruce had better go with +you. Just call at the doctor's on the way and get his wound attended +to. Come now, boys!--sharp's the word!" + +A general scrambling movement followed this brief exordium. With shy +awkwardness each young fellow lifted his cap as he shambled +sheepishly past Maryllia, who acknowledged these salutes smilingly,- +-Bainton assisted Spruce to rise to his feet, and then took him off +under his personal escort,--and only Leach remained, convulsively +gripping his dog-whip which he had picked up from the ground where +the lads had thrown it,--and anon striking it against his boot with +a movement of impatience and irritation. + +"GOOD-morning, Mr. Leach!" said Walden pointedly. But Leach stood +still, looking askance at Maryllia. + +"Miss Vancourt," he said, hoarsely; "Am I to understand that you +meant what you said just now?" + +She glanced at him coldly. + +"That I dismiss you from my service? Of course I meant it! Of course +I mean it!" + +"I am bound to have fair notice," he muttered. "I cannot collect all +my accounts in a moment--" + +"Whatever else you may do, you will leave this place at, once;" said +Maryllia, firmly,--"I will communicate my decision to the solicitors +and they will settle with you. No more words, please!" + +She turned her mare slowly round on the grassy knoll, looking up +meanwhile at the lovely canopy of tremulous young green above her +head. John Walden watched her. So did Oliver Leach,--and with a +sudden oath, rapped out like a discordant bomb bursting in the still +air, he exclaimed savagely: + +"You shall repent this, my fine lady! By God, you shall! You shall +rue the day you ever saw Abbot's Manor again! You had far better +have stayed with your rich Yankee relations than have made such a +home-coming as this for yourself, and such an outgoing for me! My +curse on you!" + +Shaking his fist threateningly at her, he sprang down the knoll, and +plunging through the grass and fern was soon lost to sight. + +The soft colour in Maryllia's cheeks paled a little and a slight +tremor ran through her frame. She looked at Walden,--then laughed +carelessly. + +"Guess I've given him fits!" she said, relapsing into one of her +Aunt Emily's American colloquialisms, with happy unconsciousness +that this particular phrase coming from her pretty lips sent a kind +of shock through John's sensitive nerves. "He's not a very pleasant +man to meet anyway! And it isn't altogether agreeable to be cursed +on the first morning of my return home. But, after all, it doesn't +matter much, as there's a clergyman present!" And her blue eyes. +danced mischievously; "Isn't it lucky you came? You can stop that +curse on its way and send it back like a homing pigeon, can't you? +What do you say when you do it? 'Retro me Sathanas,' or something of +that kind, isn't it? Whatever it is, say it now, won't you?" + +Walden laughed,--he could not help laughing. She spoke, with such a +whimsical flippancy, and she looked so bewitchingly pretty. + +"Really, Miss Vancourt, I don't think I need utter any special +formula on this occasion," he said, gaily. "You have done a good +action to the whole community by dismissing Leach. Good actions +bring their own reward, while curses, like chickens, come home to +roost. Pray forgive me for quoting copybook maxims! But, for the +curse of one ill-conditioned boor, you will have the thanks and +blessings of all your tenantry. That will take the edge of the +malediction; don't you think so?" + +She turned her mare in the homeward direction, and began to guide it +gently down the slope. Walking by her side, John held back one of +the vast leafy boughs of the great trees to allow her to pass more +easily, and glanced up at her smilingly as he put his question. + +She met his eyes with an open frankness that somewhat disconcerted +him. + +"Well, I don't know about that!" she replied. "You see, in these +days of telepathy and hypnotic suggestion, there may be something +very catching about a curse. It's just like a little seed of +disease;--if it falls on the right soil it germinates and spreads, +and then all manner of wicked souls get the infection. I believe +that in the old days everybody guessed this instinctively, without +being able to express it scientifically,--and that's why they ran to +the Church for protection agaiast curses, and the evil eye, and +things of that sort. See how some of the old Scottish curses cling +even to this day! The only way to take the sting out of a curse is +to get it transposed"--and she smiled, glancing meditatively up into +the brightening blue of the sky. "Like a song, you know! If it's too +low for the voice you transpose it to a higher key. I daresay the +Church was able to do that in the days when it had REAL faith--oh!-- +I beg your pardon!--I ought not to say that to a man of your +calling." + +"Why not?" said Walden; "Pray say anything you like to me, Miss +Vancourt;--I should be a very poor and unsatisfactory sort of +creature if I could not bear any criticism on my vocation. Besides, +I quite agree with you. The early Church had certainly more faith +than it has now." + +"You're not a bit like a parson," said Maryllia gravely, studying +his face with embarrassing candour and closeness; "You look quite a +nice pleasant sort of man." + +John Walden laughed again,--this time with sincere heartiness. +Maryllia's eyes twinkled, and little dimples came and went round her +mouth and chin. + +"You seem amused at that," she said; "But I've seen a great deal of +life--and I have met heaps and heaps of parsons--parsons young and +parsons old--and they were all horrid, simply horrid! Some talked +Bible--and others talked the Sporting Times--any amount of them +talked the drama, and played villains in private theatricals. I +never met but one real minister,--that is a man who ministers to the +poor,--and he died in a London slum before he was thirty. I believe +he was a saint; and if he had lived in the days of the early Church, +he would certainly have been canonised. He would have been Saint +William--his name was William. But he was only one William,--I've +seen hundreds of them." + +"Hundreds of Williams?" queried Walden suggestively. + +This time it was Maryllia who laughed,--a gay little laugh like that +of a child. + +"No, I guess not!" she answered; "Some of them are real Johnnies! Oh +dear me!"--and again her laughter broke forth; "I quite forgot! You +said YOUR name was John!" + +"So it is." And he smiled; "I'm sorry you don't like it!" + +She checked her merriment abruptly, and became suddenly serious. + +"But I do like it! You mustn't think I don't. Oh, how rude I must +seem to you! Please forgive me! I really do like the name of John!" + +He glanced up at her, still smiling. + +"Thank you! It's very kind of you to say so!" + +"You believe me, don't you?" she said persistently. + +"Of course I do! Of course I must! Though unhappily a Churchman, I +am not altogether a heretic.'" + +The smile deepened in his eyes,--and as she met his somewhat +quizzical glance a slight wave of colour rose to her cheeks and +brow. She drew herself up in her saddle with a sudden, proud +movement and carried her little head a trifle higher. Walden looked +at her now as he would have looked at a charming picture, without +the least embarrassment. She appeared so extremely young to him. She +awakened in his mind a feeling of kindly paternal interest, such as +he might have felt for Susie Prescott or Ipsie Frost. He was not +even quite sure that he considered her in any way out of the common, +so far as her beauty was concerned,--though he recognised that she +was almost the living image of 'the lady in the vi'let velvet' whose +portrait adorned the gallery in Abbot's Manor. The resemblance was +heightened by the violet colour of the riding dress she wore and the +absence of any head-covering save her own pretty brown-gold hair. + +"I'm glad I've saved the old trees," she said presently, checking +her mare's pace, and looking back at the Five Sisters standing in +unmolested grandeur on their grassy throne. "I feel a pleasant +consciousness of having done something useful. They are beautiful! I +haven't looked at them half enough. I shall come here all by myself +this afternoon and bring a book and read under their lovely boughs. +Just now I've only had time to cry 'rescue.'" She hesitated a +moment, then added:" I'm very much obliged to you for your +assistance, Mr. Walden!--and I'm glad you also like the trees. They +shall never be touched in my lifetime, I assure you I--and I +believe--yes, I believe I'll put something in my last will and +testament about them--something binding, you know! Something that +will set up a block in the way of land agents. Such trees as these +ought to stand as long as Nature will allow them." + +Walden was silent. Somehow her tone had changed from kind +playfulness to ordinary formality, and her eyes rested upon him with +a cool, slightly depreciatory expression. The mare was restless, and +pawed the green turf impatiently. + +"She longs for a gallop;" said Maryllia, patting the fine creature's +glossy neck; "Don't you, Cleo? Her name is Cleopatra, Queen of +Egypt. Isn't she a beauty?" + +"She is indeed!" murmured Walden, with conventional politeness, +though he scarcely glanced at the eulogised animal. + +"She isn't a bit safe, you know," continued Maryllia; "Nobody can +hold her but me! She's a perfectly magnificent hunter. I have +another one who is gentleness itself, called Daffodil. My groom +rides her. He could never ride Cleo." She paused, patting the mare's +neck again,--then gathering up the reins in her small, loosely- +gloved hand, she said: "Well, good-morning, Mr. Walden! It was most +kind of you to get up so early and come to help defend my trees! I +am ever so grateful to you! Pray call and see me at the Manor when +you have nothing better to do. You will be very welcome!" + +She nodded gracefully to him, and a few loose curls of lovely hair +fell with the action like a web of sunbeams over her brow. Smiling, +she tossed them back. + +"Good-bye!" she called. + +He raised his hat,--and in another moment the gallop of Cleopatra's +swift hoofs thudded across the grass and echoed over the fields, +gradually diminishing and dying away, as mare and rider disappeared +within the enfolding green of the Manor woods. He stood for a while +looking after the vanishing flash of violet, brown and gold, +scudding over the turf and disappearing under the closely twisted +boughs of budding oak and elm,--and then started to walk home +himself. His face was a study of curiously mingled expressions. +Surprise, amusement, and a touch of admiration struggled for the +mastery in his mind, and he was compelled to admit to himself, +albeit reluctantly, that the doubtfully-anticipated 'Squire-ess' was +by no means the sort of person he had expected to see. Herein he was +at one with Bainton. + +"'Like a little sugar figure on a wedding-cake, looking sweet, and +smiling pleasant!'" thought Walden, humorously recalling his +gardener's description; "Scarcely that! She has a will of her own, +and--possibly--a temper! A kind of spoilt child-woman, I should +imagine; just the person to wear all the fripperies Mrs. Spruce was +so anxious about the other day, and quite frivolous enough to +squeeze her feet into shoes a couple of sizes too small for her. +Beautiful? No,--her features are not regular enough for actual +beauty. Pretty? Well,--perhaps she is!--in a certain sense,--but I'm +no judge. Fascinating? Possibly she might be--to some men. She +certainly has a sweet voice, and a very charming manner. And I don't +think she is likely to be disagreeable or discourteous. But there is +nothing remarkable about her--she's just a woman--with a bright +smile,--and a touch of American vivacity running through her English +insularity. Just a woman--with a way!" + +And he strode on, his terrier trotting soberly at his heels. But he +was on the whole glad he had met the lady of the Manor, because now +he no longer felt any uneasiness concerning her. His curiosity was +satisfied,--his instinctive dislike of her had changed to a kindly +toleration, and his somewhat morbid interest in her arrival had +quite abated. The 'Five Sisters' were saved--that was a good thing; +and as for Miss Vancourt herself,--well!--she was evidently a +harmless creature who would most likely play tennis and croquet all +day and take very little interest in anything except herself. + +"She will not interfere with me, nor I with her," said Walden with a +sigh of satisfaction and relief; "And though we live in the same +village, we shall be as far apart as the poles,--which is a great +comfort'" + + + + +XI + + +Meanwhile, Maryllia cantered home through the woods in complacent +and lively humour. The first few hours of her return to the home of +her forefathers had certainly not been lacking in interest and +excitement. She had heard and granted a village appeal,--she had +stopped an act of vandalism,--she had saved five of the noblest +trees in England,--she had conquered the hearts of several village +yokels,--she had thrust a tyrant out of office,--she had been cursed +by the said tyrant, a circumstance which was, to say the very least +of it, quite new to her experience and almost dramatic,--and,--she +had 'made eyes' at a parson! Surely this was enough adventure for +one morning, especially as it was not yet eight o'clock. The whole +day had yet to come; possibly she might be involved later on in +still more thrilling and sensational episodes,--who could tell! She +carolled a song for pure gaiety of heart, and told the rustling +leaves and opening flowers in very charmingly pronounced French that + +"Votre coeur a beau se defendre De s'enflammer,--Le moment vient, il +faut se rendre, Il faut aimer!" + +Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, curveted and pranced daintily at every +check imposed on her rein, as became an equine royalty,--she was +conscious of the elastic turf under her hoofs, and glad of the fresh +pure air in her nostrils,--and her mistress shared with her the +sense of freedom and buoyancy which an open country and fair +landscape must naturally inspire in those to whom life is a daily +and abounding vigorous delight, not a mere sickly brooding over the +past, or a morbid anticipation of the future. The woods surrounding +Abbot's Manor were by no means depressing,--they were not dark +silent vistas of solemn pine, leading into deeper and deeper gloom, +but cheery and picturesque clumps of elm and beech and oak, at +constant intervals with hazel-copse, hawthorn and eglantine,--true +English woods, suggestive of delicate romance and poesy, and made +magical by the songs of birds, whose silver-throated melodies are +never heard to sweeter advantage than under the leafy boughs of such +unspoilt green lanes and dells as yet remain to make the charm and +glamour of rural England. Primroses peeped out in smiling clusters +from every mossy nook, and the pale purple of a myriad violets +spread a wave of soft colour among the last year's fallen leaves, +which had served good purpose in keeping the tender buds warm till +Spring should lift them from their earth-cradles into full-grown +blossom. Maryllia's bright eyes, glancing here and there, saw and +noted a thousand beauties at every turn,--the chains of social +convention and ordinance had fallen from her soul, and a joyous +pulse of freedom quickened her blood and sent it dancing through her +veins in currents of new exhilaration and vitality. With her multi- +millionaire aunt, she had lived a life of artificial constraint, +against which, despite its worldly brilliancy, her inmost and best +instincts had always more or less rebelled;--now,--finding herself +alone, as it were, with Mother Nature, she sprang like a child to +that great maternal bosom, and nestled there with a sense of glad +refreshment and peace. + +"What dear wildflowers!" she murmured now, as restraining +Cleopatra's coquettish gambols, she rode more slowly along, and +spied the bluebells standing up among tangles of green, making +exquisite contrast with the golden glow of aconites and the fragile +white of wood-anemones,--"They are ever so much prettier than the +hot-house things one gets any day in Paris and London! Big forced +roses,--great lolling, sickly-scented lilies, and orchids--oh dear! +how tired I am of orchids! Every evening a bouquet of orchids for +five weeks--Sundays NOT excepted,--shall I ever forget the +detestable 'rare specimens'!" + +A little frown puckered her brow, and for a moment the lines of her +pretty mouth drooped and pouted with a quaintly petulant expression, +like that of a child going to cry. + +"It was complete persecution!" she went on, crooning her complaints +to herself and patting Cleopatra's arched neck by way of +accompaniment to her thoughts--"Absolute dodging and spying round +corners after the style of a police detective. I just hate a lover +who makes his love, if it is love, into a kind of whip to flog your +poor soul with! Roxmouth here, Roxmouth there, Roxmouth everywhere!- +-he was just like the water in the Ancient Mariner 'and not a drop +to drink.' At the play, at the Opera, in the picture-galleries, at +the races, at the flower-shows, at all the 'crushes' and big +functions,--in London, in Paris, in New York, in St. Petersburg, in +Vienna,--always 'ce cher Roxmouth'--as Aunt Emily said;--money no +consideration, distance no object,--always 'ce cher Roxmouth,' stiff +as a poker, clean as fresh paint, and apparently as virtuous as an +old maid,--with all his aristocratic family looming behind him, and +a long ancestry of ghosts in the shadow of time, extending away back +to some Saxon 'nobles,' who no doubt were coarse barbarians that ate +more raw meat than was good for them, and had to be carried to bed +dead drunk on mead! It IS so absurd to boast of one's ancestry! If +we could only just see the dreadful men who began all the great +families, we should be perfectly ashamed of them! Most of them tore +up their food with their fingers. Now we Vancourts are supposed to +be descended from a warrior bold, named Robert Priaulx de +Vaignecourt, who fought in the Crusades. Poor Uncle Fred used to be +so proud of that! He was always talking about it, especially when we +were in America. He liked to try and make the Pilgrim-Father- +families jealous. Just as he used to boast that if he had only been +born three minutes before my father, instead of three minutes after, +he would have been the owner of Abbot's Manor. That three minutes' +delay and consideration he took about coming into the world made him +the youngest twin, and cut off his chances. And he told me that +Robert the Crusader had a brother named Osmond, who was believed to +have founded a monastery somewhere in this neighbourhood, and who +died, so the story goes, during a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, +though there's no authentic trace left of either Osmond or Robert +anywhere. They might, of course, have been very decent and agreeable +men,--but it's rather doubtful. If Osmond went on a pilgrimage he +would never have washed himself, to begin with,--it would have +destroyed his sanctity. And as for Robert the warrior bold, he would +have been dreadfully fierce and hairy,--and I'm quite sure I could +not possibly have asked him to dinner!" + +She laughed at her own fancies, and guided her mare under a drooping +canopy of early-flowering wild acacia, just for the sheer pleasure +of springing lightly up in her saddle to pull off a tuft of scented +white blossom. + +"The fact is," she continued half aloud, "there's nobody I can ask +to dinner even now as it is. Not down here. The local descriptions +of Sir Morton Pippitt do not tempt me to make his acquaintance, and +as for the parson I met just now,-why he would be impossible!-- +simply impossible!" she repeated with emphasis--" I can see exactly +what he's like at a glance. One of those cold, quiet, clever men who +'quiz' women and never admire them,--I know the kind of horrid +University creature! A sort of superior, touch-me-not-person who can +barely tolerate a woman's presence in the room, and in his heart of +hearts relegates the female sex generally to the lowest class of the +animal creation. I can read it all in his face. He's rather good- +looking--not very,--his hair curls quite nicely, but it's getting +grey, and so is his moustache,--he must be at least fifty, I should +think. He has a good figure--for a clergyman;--and his eyes--no, I'm +not sure that I like his eyes--I believe they're deceitful. I must +look at them again before I make up my mind. But I know he's just as +conceited and disagreeable as most parsons--he probably thinks that +he helps to turn this world and the next round on his little +finger,--and I daresay he tells the poor village folk here that if +they don't obey him, they'll go to hell, and if they do, they'll fly +straight to heaven and put on golden crowns at once. Dear me! What a +ridiculous state of things! Fancy the dear old man in the smock who +came to see me last night, with a pair of wings and a crown!" + +Laughing again, she flicked Cleopatra's neck with the reins, and +started off at an easy swinging gallop, turning out of the woods +into the carriage drive, and never checking her pace till she +reached the house. + +All that day she gave marked evidence that her reign as mistress of +Abbot's Manor had begun in earnest. Changing her riding dress for a +sober little tailor-made frock of home-spun, she flitted busily over +the old house of her ancestors, visiting it in every part, peering +into shadowy corners, opening antique presses and cupboards, finding +out the secret of sliding panels in the Jacobean oak that covered +the walls, and leaving no room unsearched. The apartment in which +her father's body had lain in its coffin was solemnly unlocked and +disclosed to her view under the title of 'the Ghost Room,'--whereat +she was sorrowfully indignant,--so much so indeed that Mrs. Spruce +shivered in her shoes, pricked by the sting of a guilty conscience, +for, if the truth be told, it was to Mrs. Spruce's own too-talkative +tongue that this offending name owed its origin. Quietly entering +the peaceful chamber with its harmless and almost holy air of +beautiful, darkened calm, Maryllia drew up the blinds, threw back +the curtains, and opened the latticed windows wide, admitting a +flood of sunshine and sweet air. + +"It must never be called 'the Ghost Room' again,"--she said, with a +reproachful gravity, which greatly disconcerted and overawed Mrs. +Spruce--"otherwise it will have an evil reputation which it does not +deserve. There is nothing ghostly or terrifying about it. It is a +sacred room,--sacred to the memory of one of the dearest and best of +men! It is wrong to let such a room be considered as haunted,--I +shall sleep in it myself sometimes,--and I shall make it bright and +pretty for visitors when they come. I would put a little child to +sleep in it,--for my father was a good man, and nothing evil can +ever be associated with him. Death is only dreadful to the ignorant +and the wicked." + +Mrs. Spruce wisely held her peace, and dutifully followed her new +mistress to the morning-room, where she had to undergo what might be +called quite a stiff examination regarding all the household and +housekeeping matters. Armed with a fascinating little velvet-bound +notebook and pencil, Maryllia put down all the names of the +different servants, both indoor and outdoor (making a small private +mark of her own against those who had served her father in any +capacity, and those who were just new to the place), together with +the amount of wages due every month to each,--she counted over all +the fine house linen, much of which had been purchased for her +mother's home-coming and had never been used;--she examined with all +a connoisseur's admiration the almost priceless old china with which +the Manor shelves, dressers and cupboards were crowded,--and finally +after luncheon and an hour's deep cogitation by herself in the +library, she wrote out in a round clerkly hand certain 'rules and +regulations,' for the daily routine of her household, and handed the +document to Mrs. Spruce,--much to that estimable dame's perturbation +and astonishment. + +"These are my hours, Spruce," she said--"And it will of course be +your business to see that the work is done punctually and with +proper method. There must be no waste or extravagance,--and you will +bring me all the accounts every week, as I won't have bills running +up longer than that period. I shall leave all the ordering in of +provisions to you,--if it ever happens that you send something to +table which I don't like, I will tell you, and the mistake need not +occur again. Now is there anything else?"--and she paused +meditatively, finger on lip, knitting her brows--"You see I've never +done any housekeeping, but I've always had notions as to how I +should do it if I ever got the chance to try, and I'm just +beginning. I believe in method,--and I like everything that HAS a +place to be in IN its place, and everything that HAS a time, to come +up to its time. It saves ever so much worry and trouble! Now let me +think!--oh yes!--I knew there was another matter. Please let the +gardeners and outdoor men generally know that if they want to speak +to me, they can always see me from ten to half-past every morning. +And, by the way, Spruce, tell the maids to go about their work +quietly,--there is nothing more objectionable than a noise and fuss +in the house just because a room is being swept and turned out. I +simply hate it! In the event of any quarrels or complaints, please +refer them to me--and--and--" Here she paused again with a smile-- +"Yes! I think that's all--for the present! I haven't yet gone +through the library or the picture-gallery;--however those rooms +have nothing to do with the ordinary daily housekeeping,--if I find +anything wanting to be done there, I'll send for you again. But +that's about all now!" + +Poor Mrs. Spruce curtseyed deferentially and tremulously. She was +not going to have it all her own way as she had fondly imagined when +she first saw the apparently child-like personality of her new lady. +The child-like personality was merely the rose-flesh covering of a +somewhat determined character. + +"And anything I can do for you, Spruce, or for your husband," +continued Maryllia, dropping her business-like tone for one of as +coaxing a sweetness as ever Shakespeare's Juliet practised for the +persuasion of her too tardy Nurse--"will be done with ever so much +pleasure! You know that, don't you?" And she laid her pretty little +hands on the worthy woman's portly shoulders--"You shall go out +whenever you like--after work, of course!--duty first, pleasure +second!--and you shall even grumble, if you feel like it,--and have +your little naps when the midday meal is done with,--Aunt Emily's +housekeeper in London used to have them, and she snored dreadfully! +the second footman--QUITE a nice lad--used to tickle her nose with a +straw! But I can't afford to keep a second footman--one is quite +enough,--or a coachman, or a carriage;--besides, I would always +rather ride than drive,--and my groom, Bennett, will only want a +stable-boy to help him with Cleo and Daffodil. So I hope there'll be +no one downstairs to tease you, Spruce dear, by tickling YOUR nose +with a straw! Primmins looks much too staid and respectable to think +of such a thing." + +She laughed merrily,--and Mrs. Spruce for the life of her could not +help laughing too. The picture of Primmins condescending to indulge +in a game of 'nose and straw' was too grotesque to be considered +with gravity. + +"Well I never, Miss!" she ejaculated--"You do put things that +funny!" + +"Do I? I'm so glad!" said Maryllia demurely--"it's nice to be funny +to other people, even if you're not funny to yourself! But I want +you to understand from the first, Spruce, that everyone must feel +happy and contented in my household. So if anything goes wrong, you +must tell me, and I will try and set it right. Now I'm going for an +hour's walk with Plato, and when I come in, and have had my tea, +I'll visit the picture-gallery. I know all about it,--Uncle Fred +told me,"--she paused, and her eyes darkened with a wistful and +deepening gravity,--then she added gently--"I shall not want you +there, Spruce,--I must be quite alone." + +Mrs. Spruce again curtseyed humbly, and was about to withdraw, when +Maryllia called her back. + +"What about the clergyman here, Mr. Walden?"--she asked--"Is he a +nice man?--kind to the village people, I mean, and good to the +poor?" + +Mrs. Spruce gave a kind of ecstatic gasp, folded her fat hands +tightly together in front of her voluminous apron, and launched +forth straightway on her favourite theme. + +"Mr. Walden is jest one of the finest men God ever made, Miss," she +said, with solemnity and unction--"You may take my word for it! He's +that good, that as we often sez, if m'appen there ain't no saint in +the Sarky an' nowt but dust, we've got a real live saint walkin' +free among us as is far more 'spectable to look at in his plain coat +an' trousers than they monks an' friars in the picter-books wi' +ropes around their waistses an' bald crowns, which ain't no sign to +me o' bein' full o' grace, but rather loss of 'air,--an' which you +will presently see yourself, Miss, as 'ow Mr. Walden's done the +church beautiful, like a dream, as all the visitors sez, which there +isn't its like in all England--an' he's jest a father to the village +an' friends with every man, woman, an' child in it, an' grudges +nothink to 'elp in cases deservin', an' works like a nigger, he do, +for the school, which if he'd 'ad a wife it might a' been better an' +it might a' been worse, the Lord only knows, for no woman would a' +come up 'ere an' stood that patient watchin' me an' my work, an' I +tell you truly, Miss Maryllia, that when your boxes came an' I had +to unpack 'em an' sort the clothes in 'em, I sent for Passon Walden +jest to show 'im that I felt my 'sponsibility, an' he sez, sez he: +'You go on doin' your duty, Missis Spruce, an' your lady will be all +right'--an' though I begged 'im to stop, he wouldn't while I was a- +shakin' out your dresses with Nancy--" + +Here she was interrupted by a ringing peal of laughter from +Maryllia, who, running up to her, put a little hand on her mouth. + +"Stop, stop, Spruce!" she exclaimed--"Oh dear, oh dear I Do you +think I can understand all this? Did you show the parson my clothes- +-actually? You did!" For Mrs. Spruce nodded violently in the +affirmative. "Good gracious! What a perfectly dreadful thing to do!" +And she laughed again. "And what is the saint in the Sarky?" Here +she removed her hand from the mouth she was guarding. "Say it in one +word, if you can,--what is the Sarky?" + +"It's in the church,"--said Mrs. Spruce, dauntlessly proceeding with +her flow of narrative, and encouraged thereto by the sparkling mirth +in her mistress's face--"We calls it Sarky for short. Josey +Letherbarrow, what reads, an' 'as larnin', calls it the Sarky Fagus, +an' my Kitty, she's studied at the school, an' SHE sez 'it's Sar-KO- +fagus, mother,' which it may be or it mayn't, for the schools don't +know more than the public-'ouses in my opinion,--leastways it's a +great long white coffin what's supposed to 'ave the body of a saint +inside it, an' Mr. Walden he discovered it when he was rebuildin' +the church, an' when the Bishop come to conskrate it, he sez 'twas a +saint in there an' that's why the village is called St. Rest--but +you'll find it all out yourself. Miss, an' as I sez an' I don't care +who 'ears me, the real saint ain't in the Sarky at all,--it's just +Mr. Walden himself,--" + +Again Maryllia's hand closed her mouth. + +"You really must stop, Spruce! You are the dearest old gabbler +possible--but you must stop! You'll have no breath left--and I shall +have no patience! I've heard quite enough. I met Mr. Walden this +morning, and I'm sure he isn't a saint at all! He's a very ordinary +person indeed,--most ordinary--not in the very least remarkable. +I'm. glad he's good to the people, and that they like him--that's +really all that's necessary, and it's all I want to know. Go along, +Spruce!--don't talk to me any more about saints in the Sarky or out +of the Sarky! There never was a real saint in the world--never!--not +in the shape of a man!" + +With laughter still dancing in her eyes, she turned away, and Mrs. +Spruce, in full possession of restored nerve and vivacity, bustled +off on her round of household duty, the temporary awe she had felt +concerning the new written code of domestic 'Rules and Regulations' +having somewhat subsided under the influence of her mistress's gay +good-humour. And Maryllia herself, putting on her hat, called Plato +to her side, and started off for the village, resolved to make the +church her first object of interest, in order to see the wondrous +'Sarky.' + +"I never was so much entertained in my life!" she declared to +herself, as she walked lightly along,--her huge dog bounding in +front of her and anon returning to kiss her hand and announce by +deep joyous barks his delight at finding himself at liberty in the +open country--"Spruce is a perfect comedy in herself,--ever so much +better than a stage play! And then the quaint funny men who came to +see me last night,--and those village boys this morning! And the +'saintly' parson! I'm sure he'll turn out to be comic too,--in a +way--he'll be the 'heavy father' of the piece! Really I never +imagined I should have so much fun!" + +Here, spying a delicate pinnacle gleaming through the trees, she +rightly concluded that it belonged to the church she intended to +visit, and finding a footpath leading across the fields, she +followed it. It was the same path which Walden had for so many years +been accustomed to take in his constant walks to and from the Manor. +It soon brought her to the highroad which ran through the village, +and across this it was but a few steps to the gate of the +churchyard. Laying one hand on her dog's neck, she checked the great +creature's gambols and compelled him to walk sedately by her side, +as with hushed footsteps she entered the 'Sleepy Hollow' of death's +long repose, and went straight up to the church door which, as +usual, stood open. + +"Stay here, Plato!" she whispered to her four-footed comrade, who, +understanding the mandate, lay down at once submissively in the +porch to wait her pleasure. + +Entering the sacred shrine she stood still,--awed by its exquisite +beauty and impressive simplicity. The deep silence, the glamour of +the soft vari-coloured light that flowed through the lancet windows +on either side,--the open purity of the nave, without any +disfiguring pews or fixed seats to mar its clear space,--(for the +chairs which were used at service were all packed away in a remote +corner out of sight)--the fair, slender columns, springing up into +flowering capitals, like the stems of palms breaking into leaf- +coronals,--the dignified plainness of the altar, with that strange +white sarcophagus set in front of it,--all these taken together, +composed a picture of sweet sanctity and calm unlike anything she +had ever seen before. Her emotional nature responded to the +beautiful in all things, and this small perfectly designed House of +Prayer, with its unknown saintly occupant at rest within its walls, +touched her almost to tears. Stepping on tip-toe up to the altar- +rails, she instinctively dropped on her knees, while she read all +that could be seen of the worn inscription on the sarcophagus from +that side-'In Resurrectione--Sanctorum--Resurget.' The atmosphere +around her seemed surcharged with mystical suggestions,--a vague +poetic sense of the super-human and divine moved her to a faint +touch of fear, and made her heart beat more quickly than its wont. + +"It is lovely--lovely!" she murmured under her breath, as she rose +from her kneeling attitude--"The whole church is a perfect gem of +architecture! I have never seen anything more beautiful in its way,- +-not even the Chapel of the Thorn at Pisa. And according to Mrs. +Spruce's account, the man I met this morning--the quizzical parson +with the grey-brown curly-locks, did it all at his own expense--he +must really be quite clever,--such an unusual thing for a country +clergyman!" + +She took another observant survey of the whole building, and then +went out again into the churchyard. There she paused, her dog beside +her, shading her eyes from the sun as she looked wistfully from +right to left across the sadly suggestive little hillocks of mossy +turf besprinkled with daisies, in search of an object which was as a +landmark of disaster in her life. + +She saw it at last, and moved slowly towards it,--a plain white +marble cross, rising from a smooth grassy eminence, where a rambling +rose, carefully and even artistically trained, was just beginning to +show pale creamy buds among its glossy dark green leaves. Great +tears rose to her eyes and fell unheeded, as she read the brief +inscription--'Sacred to the Memory of Robert Vancourt of Abbot's +Manor,' this being followed by the usual dates of birth and death, +and the one word 'Resting.' With tender touch Maryllia gathered one +leaf from the climbing rose foliage, and kissing it amid her tears, +turned away, unable to bear the thoughts and memories which began to +crowd thickly upon her. Almost she seemed to hear her father's deep +mellow voice which had been the music of her childhood, playfully +saying as was so often his wont:--"Well, my little girl! How goes +the world with you?" Alas, the world had gone very ill with her for +a long, long time after his death! Hers was too loving and +passionately clinging a nature to find easy consolation for such a +loss. Her uncle Frederick, though indulgent to her and always kind, +had never filled her father's place,--her uncle Frederick's American +wife, had, in spite of much conscientious tutelage and chaperonage, +altogether failed to win her affection or sympathy. The sorrowful +sense that she was an orphan, all alone as it were with herself to +face the mystery of life, never deserted her,--and it was perhaps in +the most brilliant centres of society that this consciousness of +isolation chiefly weighed upon her. She saw other girls around her +with their fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters,--but she--she, +by the very act of being born had caused her mother's death,--and +she well knew that her father's heart, quietly as he had endured his +grief to all outward appearances, had never healed of that agonising +wound. + +"I think I should never have come into the world at all,"--she said +to herself with a sigh, as she returned over the fields to the +Manor--"I am no use to anybody,--I never have been of any use! Aunt +Emily says all I have to do to show my sense of proper feeling and +gratitude to her for her care of me is to marry--and marry well-- +marry Lord Roxmouth, in short--he will be a duke when his father +dies, and Aunt Emily would like to have the satisfaction of leaving +her millions to enrich an English dukedom. Nothing could commend +itself more favourably to her ideas--only it just happens my ideas +won't fit in the same groove. Oh dear! Why can't I be 'amenable' and +become a future duchess, and 'build up' the fortunes of a great +family? I don't know I'm sure,--except that I don't feel like it! +Great families don't appeal to me. I shouldn't care if there were +none left. They are never interesting at the best of times,--perhaps +out of several of them may come one clever man or woman,--and all +the rest will be utter noodles. It isn't worth while to marry +Roxmouth on such dubious grounds of possibility!" + +Entering the Manor, she was conscious of some fatigue and +listlessness,--a touch of depression weighed down her naturally +bright spirits. She exchanged her home-spun walking dress for a tea- +gown, and descended somewhat languidly to the morning-room where tea +was served with more ceremoniousness than on the previous day, +Primmins having taken command, with the assistance of the footman. +Both men-servants stole respectful glances at their mistress, as she +sat pensively alone at the open window, looking out on the verdant +landscape that spread away from the terrace, in undulations of lawn, +foliage and field to the last border of trees that closed in Abbot's +Manor grounds from the public highway. Both would have said had they +been asked, that she was much too pretty and delicate to be all +alone in the great old house, with no companion of her own age to +exchange ideas with by speech or glance,--and, with that masculine +self-assurance which is common to all the lords of creation, whether +they be emperors or household domestics, they would have opined that +'she ought to be married.' In which they would have entirely agreed +with Maryllia's 'dragon' Aunt Emily. But Maryllia's own mind was far +from being set on such themes as love and marriage. Her meditations +were melancholy, and not unmixed with self-reproach. She blamed +herself for having stayed away so long from her childhood's home, +and her father's grave. + +"I might have visited it at least once a year!" she thought with +sharp compunction--"I never really forgot,--why did I seem to +forget?" + +The sun was sinking slowly in a glory of crimson and amber cloud, +when, having resolved upon what she was going to do, she entered the +picture-gallery. Softly she trod the polished floor,--with keen +quick instinct and appreciative eyes, she noted the fine Vandyke +portraits,--the exquisite Greuze that shone out, star-like, from a +dark corner of the panelled walls,--and walking with measured pace +she went straight up to the picture of 'Mary Elia Adelgisa de +Vaignecourt'--and gazed at it with friendly and familiar eyes. + +"I know YOU quite well!"--she said, addressing the painted beauty-- +"I have often dreamed about you since I left home! I always admired +you and wanted to be like you. I remember when I must have been +about seven or eight years old, I ran in from a game in the garden +one summer's afternoon, and I knelt down in front of you and I said: +'Pray God make little Maryllia as pretty as big Mary Elia!' And I +think,--I really do think--though of course I'm not half or quarter +as pretty, I'm just a little like you! Just a very, very little! For +instance my hair is the same colour--almost--and my eyes--no! I'm +sure I haven't such beautiful eyes as yours--I wish I had!" + +Her lovely ancestress appeared to smile,--if she could have spoken +from the canvas that held her painted image she might have said:-- +"You have eyes that mirror the sunshine,--you have life, and I am +dead,--your day is still with you--mine is done! For me love and the +world's delight are ended,--and whither my phantom fairness has +fled, who knows! But you are a vital breathing essence of beauty--be +glad and rejoice in it while you may!" + +Some thought of this kind would have suggested itself to an +imaginative beholder had such an one stood by to compare the picture +with its almost twin living copy. Maryllia however had a very small +stock of vanity,--she was only pleasantly aware that she possessed a +certain grace and fascination not common to the ordinary of her sex, +but beyond that, she rated her personal charms at very slight value. +The portrait of Mary Elia Adelgisa made her more seriously +discontented with herself than ever,--and after closely studying the +picturesque make of the violet velvet riding-dress which the fair +one of Charles the Second's day had worn, and deciding that she +would have one 'created' for her own adornment exactly like it, she +turned towards the other end of the gallery. There hung that +preciously guarded mysterious portrait of her dead mother, which she +herself had never gazed upon, covered close with its dark green +baize curtain,--a curtain no hand save her father's had ever dared +to raise. She remembered how often he had used to enter here all +alone and lock the doors, remaining thus in sorrow and solitude many +hours. She recalled her own childish fears when, by chance running +in to look at the pictures for her own entertainment, or to play +with her ball on a rainy day for the convenience of space and a +lofty ceiling, she was suddenly checked and held in awe by the sight +of that great gilded frame enshrining the, to her, unknown +presentment of a veiled Personality. Her father alone was familiar +with the face hidden behind that covering which he had put up with +his own hands,--fastening it by means of a spring pulley, which in +its turn was secured to the wall by lock and key. Ever since his +death Maryllia had worn that key on a gold chain hidden in her +bosom, and she drew it out now with a beating heart and many +tremours of hesitation. The trailing folds of her pretty tea-gown, +all of the filmiest old lace and ivory-hued cashmere, seemed to make +an obtrusive noise as they softly swept the floor,--she felt almost +as though she were about to commit a sacrilege and break open a +shrine,--yet-- + +"I must see her!" she said, whisperingly--"I shall not offend her +memory. I have never done anything very wrong in my life,--if I had, +I should have reason to be afraid--or ashamed,--and then of course +wouldn't dare to look at her. I have often been silly and frivolous +and thoughtless,--but never spiteful or malicious, or really wicked. +I could meet my father if he were here, just as frankly as if I were +still a little girl,--and I think he would wish me to see his +Dearest now! His Dearest! He always called her that!" + +With the breath coming and going quickly through her parted lips, +she stepped slowly and timidly up to that corner in the wall behind +the picture, where the fastenings of the spring pulley were +concealed, and fitted the key into the padlock which guarded it. The +light of the setting sun threw a flame of glory aslant through the +windows, and filled the gallery with a warm rush of living colour +and radiance; and as she removed the padlock, and came to the front +of the picture to pull the curtain-cord, she stood, unconsciously to +herself, in a pure halo of gold, which intensified the brown and +amber shades of her hair and the creamy folds of her gown, so that +she resembled 'an angel newly drest, save wings, for heaven,' such +as one may see delineated on the illuminated page of some antique +missal. Her hand trembled, as at the first touch on the pulley the +curtain began to move,--inch by inch it ascended, showing pale +glimmerings of white and rose,--still higher it moved, giving to the +light a woman's beautiful hand, so delicately painted as to seem +almost living. The hand held a letter, and plainly on the half +unfolded scroll could be read the words: + +"Thine till death, ROBERT VANCOURT." + +Another touch, and the whole covering rolled up swiftly to its full +height,--while Maryllia breathless with excitement and interest +gazed with all her soul in her eyes at the exquisite, dreamy, poetic +loveliness of the face disclosed. All the beauty of girlhood with +the tenderness of womanhood,--all the visions of young romance, +united to the fulfilled passion of the heart,--all the budding +happiness of a radiant life,-all the promise of a perfect love;-- +these were faithfully reflected in the purely moulded features, the +dark blue caressing eyes, and the sweet mouth, which to Maryllia's +fervid imagination appeared to tremble plaintively with a sigh of +longing for the joy of life that had been snatched away so soon. +Arrayed in simplest white, with a rose at her breast, and her +husband's letter clasped in her hand, the fair form of the young +bride that never came home gathered from the sunset-radiance an +aspect of life, and seemed to float forth from the dark canvas like +a holy spirit of beauty and blessing. Shadow and Substance--dead +mother and living child--these twain gazed on each other through +cloud-veils of impenetrable mystery,--nor is it impossible to +conceive that some intangible contact between them might, through +the transference of a thought, a longing, a prayer, have been +realised at that mystic moment. With a sudden cry of irresistible +emotion Maryllia stretched out her arms, and dropping on her knees, +broke out into a passion of tears. + +"Oh mother, mother!" she sobbed--"Oh darling mother! I would have +loved you!" + + + + +XII + + +In such wise, under the silent benediction of the lost loving dead, +the long-deserted old Manor received back the sole daughter of its +ancestry to that protection which we understand, or did understand +at one time in our history, as 'Home.' Home was once a safe and +sacred institution in England. There seemed no likelihood of its +ever being supplanted by the public restaurant. That it has, in a +great measure, been so supplanted, is no advantage to the country, +and that many women, young and old, prefer to be seen in gregarious +over-dressed hordes, taking their meals in Piccadilly eating-houses, +rather than essay the becoming grace of a simple and sincere +hospitality to their friends in their own homes, is no evidence of +their improved taste or good breeding. Abbot's Manor was in every +sense 'Home' in the old English sense of the word. Its ancient +walls, hallowed by long tradition, formed a peaceful and sweet +harbour of rest for a woman's life,--and the tranquil dignity of her +old-world surroundings with all the legends and memories they +awakened, soon had a beneficial effect on Maryllia's impressionable +temperament, which, under her aunt's 'social' influence, had been +more or less chafed and uneasy. She began to feel at peace with +herself and all the world,--while the relief she experienced at +having deliberately severed herself by both word and act from the +undesired attentions of a too-persistent and detested lover in the +person of Lord Roxmouth, future Duke of Ormistonne, was as keen and +pleasurable as that of a child who has run away from school. She was +almost confident that the fact of her having thrown off her aunt's +protection together with all hope of inheriting her aunt's wealth, +would be sufficient to keep him away from her for the future. "For +it is Aunt Emily's money he wants--not me;" she said to herself--"He +doesn't care a jot about me personally--any woman will do, provided +she has the millions. And when he knows I've given up the millions, +and don't intend ever to have the millions, he'll leave me alone. +And he'll go over to America in search of somebody else--some proud +daughter of oil or pork or steel!--and what a blessing that will +be!" + +Meanwhile, such brief excitement as had been caused in St. Rest by +the return of 'th' owld Squire's gel' and by the almost simultaneous +dismissal of Oliver Leach, had well-nigh abated. A new agent had +been appointed, and though Leach had left the immediate vicinity, +having employment on Sir Morton Pippitt's lands, he had secured a +cottage for himself in the small outlying hamlet of Badsworth. He +also undertook some work for the Reverend 'Putty' Leveson in +assisting him to form an entomological collection for the private +museum at Badsworth Hall. Mr. Leveson had a singular fellow-feeling +for insects,--he studied their habits, and collected specimens of +various kinds in bottles, or 'pinned' them on cardboard trays,--he +was an interested observer of the sprightly manners practised by the +harvest-bug, and the sagacious customs of the ruminating spider,--as +well as the many surprising and agreeable talents developed by the +common flea. Leach's virulent hatred of Maryllia Vancourt was not +lessened by the apparently useful and scientific nature of the +employment he had newly taken up under the guidance of his reverend +instructor,--and whenever he caught a butterfly and ran his +murderous pin through its quivering body at Leveson's bland command, +he thought of her, and wished vindictively that she might perish as +swiftly and utterly as the winged lover of the flowers. Every small +bright thing in Nature's garden that he slew and brought home as +trophy, inspired him with the same secret fierce desire. The act of +killing a beautiful or harmless creature gave him pleasure, and he +did not disguise it from himself. The Reverend 'Putty' was delighted +with his aptitude, and with the many valuable additions he made to +the 'specimen' cards and bottles, and the two became constant +companions in their search for fresh victims among the blossoming +hedgerows and fields. St. Rest, as a village, was only too glad to +be rid of Leach's long detested presence to care anything at all as +to his further occupations or future career,--and only Bainton kept +as he said 'an eye on him.' + +Bainton was a somewhat curious personage,--talkative as he showed +himself on most occasions, he was both shrewd and circumspect; no +stone was more uncommunicative than he when he chose. In his heart +he had set Maryllia Vancourt as second to none save his own master, +John Walden,--her beauty and grace, her firm action with regard to +the rescue of the 'Five Sisters,' and her quick dismissal of Oliver +Leach, had all inspired him with the most unbounded admiration and +respect, and he felt that he now had a double interest in life,--the +'Passon'--and the 'lady of the Manor.' But he found very little +opportunity to talk about his new and cherished theme of Miss +Vancourt and Miss Vancourt's many attractions to Walden,--for John +always 'shut him up' on the subject with quite a curt and peremptory +decision whenever be so much as mentioned her name. Which conduct on +the part of one who was generally so willing to hear and patient to +listen, somewhat surprised Bainton. + +"For," he argued--"there ain't much doin' in the village,--we ain't +always 'on the go'--an' when a pretty face comes among us, surely +it's worth looking at an' pickin' to pieces as 'twere. But Passon's +that sharp on me when I sez any little thing wot might be +interestin' about the lady, that I'm thinkin' he's got out o' the +habit o' knowin' when a face is a male or a female one, which is wot +often happens to bacheldors when they gits fixed like old shrubs in +one pertikler spot o' ground. Now I should a' said he'd a' bin glad +to 'ear of somethin' new an' oncommon as 'twere,--he likes it in the +way o' flowers, an' why not in the way o' wimmin? But Passon ain't +like other folk--he don't git on with wimmin nohow--an' the prettier +they are the more he seems skeered off them." + +But such opinions as Bainton entertained concerning his master, he +kept to himself, and having once grasped the fact that any mention +of Miss Vancourt's ways or Miss Vancourt's looks appeared to +displease rather than to entertain the Reverend John, he avoided the +subject altogether. This course of action on his part, if the truth +must be told, was equally annoying to Walden, who was in the curious +mental condition of wishing to know what he declined to hear. + +For the rest, the village generally grew speedily accustomed to the +presence of the mistress of the Manor. She had fulfilled her promise +of paying a visit to Josey Letherbarrow, and had sat with the old +man in his cottage, talking to him for the better part of two hours. +Rumour asserted that she had even put the kettle on the fire for +him, and had made his tea. Josey himself was reticent,--and beyond +the fact that he held up his head with more dignity, and showed a +touch of more conscious superiority in his demeanour, he did not +give himself away by condescending to narrate any word of the +lengthy interview that had taken place between himself and 'th' owld +Squire's little gel.' One remarkable thing was noticed by the +villagers and commented upon,--Miss Vancourt had now passed two +Sundays in their midst, and had never once attended church. Her +servants were always there at morning service, but she herself was +absent. This occasioned much whispering and head-shaking in the +little community, and one evening the subject was openly discussed +in the bar-room of the 'Mother Huff' by a group of rustic worthies +whose knowledge of matters theological and political was, by +themselves, considered profound. Mrs. Buggins had started the +conversation, and Mrs. Buggins was well known to be a lady both +pious and depressing. She presided over her husband's 'public' with +an air of meek resignation, not unmixed with sorrowful protest,--she +occasionally tasted the finer cordials in the bar-room, and was +often moved to gentle tears at the excellence of their flavour,--she +had a chronic 'stitch in the side,' and a long smooth pale yellow +countenance from which the thin grey hair was combed well back from +the temples in the frankly unbecoming fashion affected by the +provincial British matron. She begun her remarks by plaintively +opining that "it was a very strange thing not to see Miss Vancourt +at church, on either of the Sundays that had passed since her +return--very strange! Perhaps she was 'High'? Perhaps she had driven +into Riversford to attend the 'processional' service of the Reverend +Francis Anthony?" + +"Perhaps she ain't done nothing of the sort!"--growled a thick-set +burly farmer, who with a capacious mug of ale before him was sucking +at his pipe with as much zeal as a baby at its bottle--"Ef you cares +for my 'pinion, which, m'appen you doan't, she's neither Low nor +'Igh. She's no Seck. If she h'longed to a Seck, she wouldn't be +readin' on a book under the Five Sisters last Sunday marnin' when +the bells was a-ringin' for church time. I goes past 'er, an' I sez +'Marnin,' mum!' an' she looks up smilin'-like, an' sez she: 'Good- +marnin!' Nice day, isn't it?' 'Splendid day, mum,' sez I, an' she +went on readin', an' I went on a walkin'. I sez then, and I sez now, +she ain't no Seck!" + +"Example," sighed Mrs. Buggins, "is better than precept. It would be +more decent if the lady showed herself in church as a lesson to +others,--if she did so more lost sheep might follow!" + +"Hor-hor-hor!" chuckled Bainton, from a corner of the room--"Don't +you worrit yourself, Missis Buggins, 'bout no lost sheep! Sheep +allus goes where there's somethin' to graze upon,--leastways that's +my 'speriemce, an' if there ain't no grazin' there ain't no sheep! +An' them as grazes on Passon Walden, gittin' out of 'im all they can +to 'elp 'em along, wouldn't go to church, no more than Miss Vancourt +do, if they didn't know wot a man 'e is to be relied on in times o' +trouble, an' a reg'lar 'usband to the parish in sickness an' in +'elth, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, till death do +'im part. Miss Vancourt don't want nothin' out of 'im as all we +doos, an' she kin show 'er independence ef she likes to by stayin' +away from church when she fancies, an' readin' books instead of +'earin' sermons,--there ain't no harm in that." + +"I'm not so sure that I agree with you, Mr. Bainton,"--said a stout, +oily-looking personage, named Netlips, the grocer and 'general +store' dealer of the village, a man who was renowned in the district +for the profundity and point of his observations at electoral +meetings, and for the entirely original manner in which he 'used' +the English language; "Public worship is a necessary evil. It is a +factor in vulgar civilisations. Without it, the system of religious +politics would fall into cohesion,--absolute cohesion!" And he +rapped his fist on the table with a smartness that made his hearers +jump. "At the last meeting I addressed in this division, I said we +must support the props. The aristocracy must bear them on their +shoulders. If your Squire stays away from church, he may be called a +heathen with propriety, though a Liberal. And why? Because he makes +public exposure of himself as a heathen negative! He is bound to +keep up the church factor in the community. Otherwise he runs +straight aground on Cohesion." + +This oratorical outburst on the part of Mr. Netlips was listened to +with respectful awe and admiration. + +"Ay, ay!" said Roger Buggins, who as 'mine host' stood in his shirt +sleeves at the entrance of his bar, surveying his customers and +mentally counting up their reckonings--"Cohesion would never do-- +cohesion government would send the country to pieces. You're right, +Mr. Netlips,--you're right! Props must be kep' up!" + +"I don't see no props in goin' to church,"--said Dan Ridley, the +little working tailor of the village--"I goes because I likes Mr. +Walden, but if there was a man in the pulpit I didn't like, I'd stop +away. There's a deal too many wolves in sheep's clothing getting +ordained in the service o' the Lord, an' I don't blame Miss Vancourt +if so be she takes time to find out the sort o' man Mr. Walden is +before settin' under him as 'twere. She can say prayers an' read 'em +too in her own room, an' study the Bible all right without goin' to +church. Many folks as goes to church reg'lar are downright mean +lyin' raskills--and don't never read their Bibles at all. Mebbe they +does as much harm as what Mr. Netlips calls Cohesion, though I don't +myself purfess to understand Government language, it bein' too deep +for me." + +Mr. Netlips smiled condescendingly, and nodded as one who should +say--'You do well, my poor fellow, to be humble in my presence!'-- +and buried his nose in his tankard of ale. + +"Mebbe Cohesion's got hold o' my red cow"--said the burly farmer who +had spoken before--"For she's as ailin' as ever she was, an' if I +lose her, I loses a bit o' my livin.' An' that's what I sez an' +'olds by, no church-goin' seems to 'elp us in a bit o' trouble, an' +it ain't decent or Christian like, so it 'pears, to pray to the +Almighty for the savin' of a cow. I asked Passon Walden if 'twould +be right, for the cow's as valuable to me as ever my wife was when +she was alive, if not more, an' he sez quite pleasant-like--'Well +no, Mister Thorpe, I think it best not to make any sort of special +prayer for the poor beast, but just do all you can for it, and leave +the rest to Providence. A cow is worldly goods, you see--and we're +not quite justified in praying to be allowed to keep our worldly +goods.' 'Ain't we!' I sez--'Is that a fact? He smiled and said it +was. So I thanked him and comed away. But I've been thinkin' it over +since, an' I sez to myself--ef we ain't to pray for keepin' an' +'avin' our worldly goods, wot 'ave we got to pray for?" + +"Oh Mr. Thorpe!" ejaculated Mrs. Buggins, almost tearfully--"It is +not this world but the next, that we must think of! We must pray for +our souls!" + +"Well, marm, I ain't got a 'soul' wot I knows on--an' as for the +next world, if there ain't no cattle farmin' there, I reckon I'll be +out o' work. Do you count on keepin' a bar in the 'eavenly country?" + +A loud guffaw went the round of the room, and Mrs. Buggins gasped +with horror. + +"Oh, Roger!" she murmured, addressing her portly spouse, who at once +took up the argument. + +"You goes too fur--you goes too fur, Mister Thorpe!" he said +severely--"There ain't no keepin' bars nor farmin' carried on in the +next world, nor marrying nor givin' in marriage. We be all as the +angels there." + +"A nice angel you'll make too, Mr. Buggins!" said Farmer Thorpe, as +he sent his tankard to be refilled,--"Lord! We won't know you!" + +Again the laugh went round, and Mrs. Buggins precipitately retired +to her 'inner parlour' there to recover from the shock occasioned to +her religious feelings by the irreverent remarks of her too matter- +of-fact customer. Meanwhile Dan Ridley, the tailor, had again +reverted to the subject of Miss Vancourt. + +"There's one thing about her comin' to church,"--he said; "If so be +as she did come it 'ud do us all good, for she's real pleasant to +look at. I've seen her a many times in the village." + +"Ah, so have I!" chorussed two or three more men. + +"She's been in to see Adam Frost's children an' she gave Baby +Hippolyta a bag o' sweeties,"--said Bainton. "An' she's called at +the schoolhouse, but Miss Eden, she worn't in an' Susie Prescott saw +her, an' Susie was that struck that she 'adn't a wurrd to say, so +she tells us, an' Miss Vancourt she went to old Josey Letherbarrow's +straight away an' there she stayed iver so long. She ain't called at +our house yet." + +"Which 'ouse might you be a-meanin', Tummas?" queried Farmer Thorpe, +with a slow grin--"Your own or your measter's?" + +"When we speaks in the plural we means not one, but two,"--rejoined +Bainton with dignity. "An' when I sez 'our' I means myself an' +Passon, which Miss Vancourt ain't as yet left her card on Passon. He +went up in a great 'urry one afternoon when he knowed she was out,-- +he knowed it, 'cos I told 'im as 'ow I'd seen her gallopin' by on +that mare of hers which, they calls Cleopatra-an' away 'e run like a +March 'are, an' he ups to the Manor and down again, an' sez he, +laughin' like: 'I've done my dooty by the lady' sez he--'I've left +my card!' That was three days ago, an' there ain't been no return o' +the perliteness up to the present--" + +Here he broke off and began to drink his ale, as a small dapper man +entered the bar-room with a brisk step and called for 'a glass of +home-brewed,' looking round on those assembled with a condescending +smile. All of them knew him as Jim Bennett, Miss Vancourt's groom. + +"Well, mates!" he said with a sprightly air of familiarity--"All +well and hearty?" + +"As yourself, Mr. Bennett,"--replied Roger Buggins, acting as +spokesman for the rest, and personally serving him with the foaming +draught he had ordered. "Which, we likewise trusts your lady is +well?" + +"My lady enjoys the hest of health, thank you!" said Bennett, with +polite gravity. And tossing off the contents of his glass, he +signified by an eloquent gesture and accompanying wink, that he was +'good for another.' + +"We was just a-sayin' as you come in, Mr. Bennett," observed Dan +Ridley, "that we'd none of us seen your lady at church yet on +Sundays, Mebbe she ain't of our 'persuasion' as they sez, or mehbe +she goes into Riversford, preferrin' 'Igh services---" + +Bennett smiled a superior smile, and leaning easily against the bar, +crossed his legs and surveyed the company generally with a +compassionate air. + +"I suppose it's quite a business down here,--goin' to church, eh?" +he queried--"Sort of excitement like--only bit of fun you've got-- +helps to keep you all alive! That's the country way, but Lord bless +you!--in town we're not taking any!" + +Bainton looked up,--and Mr. Netlips loosened his collar and lifted +his head, as though preparing himself for another flow of 'cohesion' +eloquence. Farmer Thorpe turned his bull-neck slowly round, and +brought his eyes to bear on the speaker. + +"How d'ye make that out, Mr. Bennett?" he demanded. "Doan't ye sarve +the A'mighty same in town as in country?" + +"Not a bit of it!" replied Bennett airily--"You're a long way behind +the times, Mr. Thorpe!--you are indeed, beggin' your pardon for +sayin' so! The 'best' people have given up the Almighty altogether, +owing to recent scientific discoveries. They've taken to the +Almighty Dollar instead which no science can do away with. And +Sundays aren't used any more for church-going, except among the +middle-class population,--they're just Bridge days with OUR set-- +Bridge lunches, Bridge suppers,--every Sunday's chock full of +engagements to 'Bridge,' right through the 'season.'" + +"That's cards, ain't it?" enquired Dan Ridley. + +"Just so! Harmless cards!" rejoined Bennett--"Only you can chuck +away a few thousands or so on 'em if you like!" + +Mr. Netlips here pushed aside his emptied ale-glass and raised his +fat head unctuously out of his stiff shirt-collar. + +"Are we to understand," he began ponderously, "that Miss Vancourt is +addicted to this fashion of procrastinating the Lord's Day?" + +Bennett straightened his dapper figure suddenly. + +"Now don't you put yourself out, Mr. Netlips, don't, that's a good +feller!" he said in sarcastically soothing tones--"There's no +elections going on just at present--when there is you can bring your +best leg foremost, and rant away for all you're worth! My lady don't +gamble, if that's what you mean,--though she's always with the +swagger set, and likely so to remain. But you keep up your spirits!- +-your groceries 'ull be paid for all right!--she don't run up no +bills--so don't you fear, cards or no cards! And as for +procrastinating the Lord's Day, whatever that may be, I could name +to you the folks what does worse than play Bridge on Sundays. And +who are they? Why the clergymen theirselves! And how does they do +worse? Why by tellin' lies as fast as they can stick! They says +we're all going to heaven if we're good,--and they don't know +nothing about it,--and we're all going to hell if we're bad, and +they don't know nothing about that neither! I tell you, as I told +you at first, in town we've got beyond all that stuff--we're just +not taking any!" + +He paused, and there was a deep silence, while he drank off his +second glass of ale. The thoughts of every man present were +apparently too deep for words. + +"You're a smart chap!" said Bainton at last, breaking the mystic +spell and rising to take his leave--"An' I don't want to argify with +ye, for I'spect you're about right in what you sez about Sunday ways +in town--but I tell ye what, young feller!--you've got to 'ave a +deal o' patience an' a deal o' pity for they poor starveling sinners +wot gits boxed up in cities an' never ain't got no room to look at +the sky, or see the wide fields with all the daisies blowin' open to +the sun. No wonder they're so took up wi' their scinetific muddlins +over worms an' microbes an' sich-like, as to 'ave forgot what the +Almighty is doin' in the workin' o' the Universe,--but it's onny +jest like poor prisiners in a cell wot walks up an' down, up an' +down, countin' the stones in the wall with scinetific +multiplication-like, an' 'splainin' to their poor lonely selves as +how many stones makes a square foot, an' so many square feet makes a +square yard, an' on they goes a-walkin' their mis'able little round +an' countin' their mis'able little sums, an' all the time just +outside the prison the flowers is all bloomin' wild an' the birds +singin', an' the blue sky over it all with God smilin' behind it. +That's 'ow 'tis, Mr. Bennett!" and Bainton looked into the lining of +his cap as was his wont before he put it on his head--"I believe all +you say right enough, an' it don't put me out nohow--I've seen too +much o' natur to be shook off my 'old on the Almighty--for there's +no worm wot ain't sure of a rose or some kind o' flower an' fruit +somewhere, though m'appen the poor blind thing don't know where to +find it. It's case o' leadin' on, an' guidin' beyond our knowledge, +Mr. Bennett,--an' that's wot Passon Walden tells us. HE don't bother +us wi' no 'hows' nor 'whys' nor 'wherefores'--he says we can FEEL +God with us in our daily work, an' so we can, if we've a mind to! +Daily work and common things shows Him to us,--why look there!"-- +here he pulled from his pocket a small paper-bag, and opening it, +showed some dry loose seed--"There ain't nothin' commoner than that! +That's pansy seed--a special stock too,--well now, if you didn't +know how common it is, wouldn't it seem a miracle as wonderful as +any in the Testymen, that out o' that handful o' dust like, the +finest flowers of purple an' yellow will come?--ay! some o' them two +to three inches across, an' every petal like velvet an' silk! If so +be you don't b'lieve in a God, Mr. Bennett, owin' to town opinions, +you try the gardenin' business! That'll make a man of ye! I allus +sez if Adam had stuck to the gardenin' business an' left the +tailorin' trade alone we'd have all been in Eden now!" + +His eyes twinkled, as glancing round the company, he saw that his +words had made an impression and awakened a responsive smile--"Good- +night t'ye!" And touching Bennett on the shoulder in passing, he +added: "You come an' see me, my lad, when you feels like goin' a bit +in the scinetific line! Mebbe I can tell ye a few pints wot the +learned gentlemen in London don't know. Anyway, a little church- +goin' under Passon Walden won't do you no 'arm, nor your lady +neither, if she's what I takes her for, which is believin' her to be +all good as wimmin goes. An' when Passon warms to his work an' tells +ye plain as 'ow everything's ordained for the best, an' as 'ow every +flower's a miracle of the Lord, an' every bird's song a bit o' the +Lord's own special music, it 'eartens ye up an' makes ye more +'opeful o' your own poor mis'able self--it do reely now!" + +With another friendly pat on the groom's shoulder, and a cheery +smile, Bainton passed out, and left the rest of the company in the +'Mother Huff' tap-room solemnly gazing upon one another. + +"He speaks straight, he do," said Farmer Thorpe, "An' he ain't no +canter,--he's just plain Tummas, an' wot he sez he means." + +"Here's to his 'elth,--a game old boy!" said Bennett good- +humouredly, ordering another glass of ale; "It's quite a treat to +meet a man like him, and I shan't be above owning that he's got a +deal of right on his side. But what he says ain't Orthodox Church +teaching." + +"Mebbe not," said Dan Kidley, "but it's Passon Walden's teachin', +an' if you ain't 'eard Passon yet, Mister Bennett, I'd advise ye to +go next Sunday. An' if your lady 'ud make up her mind to go too just +for once---" + +Bennett gave an expressive gesture. + +"She won't go--you may depend on that!" he said; "She's had too much +of parsons as it is. Why Mrs. Fred--that's her American aunt--was +regular pestered with 'em coming beggin' of her for their churches +and their windows and their schools and their infants and their +poor, lame, blind, sick of all sorts, as well as for theirselves. +D'rectly they knew she was a millionaire lady' they 'adn't got but +one thought--how to get some of the millions out of her. There was +three secretaries kept when we was in London, and they'd hardly time +for bite nor sup with all the work they 'ad, refusin' scores of +churches and religious folks all together. Miss Maryllia's got a +complete scare o' parsons. Whenever she see a shovel-hat coming she +just flew! When she was in Paris it was the Catholics as wanted +money--nuns, sisters of the poor, priests as 'ad been turned out by +the Government,--and what not,--and out in America it was the +Christian Scientists all the time with such a lot of tickets for +lectures and fal-lals as you never saw,--then came the +Spiritooalists with their seeances; and altogether the Vancourt +family got to look on all sorts of religions merely as so many kinds +of beggin' boxes which if you dropped money into, you went straight +to the Holy-holies, and if you didn't you dropped down into the +great big D's. No!--I don't think anyone need expect to see my lady +at church--it's the last place she'd ever think of going to!" + +This piece of information was received by his hearers with profound +gravity. No one spoke, and during the uncomfortable pause Bennett +gave a careless 'Good-night!'--and took his departure. + +"Things is come to a pretty pass in this 'ere country," then said +Mr. Netlips grandiosely, "when the woman who is merely the elevation +of the man, exhibits in public a conviction to which her status is +unfitted. If the lady who now possesses the Manor were under the +submission of a husband, he would naturally assume the control which +is govemmentally retaliative and so compel her to include the +religious considerations of the minority in her communicative +system!" + +Farmer Thorpe looked impressed, but slightly puzzled. + +"You sez fine, Mr. Netlips,--you sez fine," he observed +respectfully. "Not that I altogether understands ye, but that's onny +my want of book-larnin' and not spellin' through the dictionary as I +oughter when I was a youngster. Howsomever I makes bold to guess wot +you're drivin' at and I dessay you may be right. But I'm fair bound +to own that if it worn't for Mr. Walden, I shouldn't be found in +church o' Sundays neither, but lyin' flat on my back in a field wi' +my face turned up to the sun, a-thinkin' of the goodness o' God, and +hopin' He'd put a hand out to 'elp make the crops grow as they +should do. Onny Passon he be a rare good man, and he do speak to the +'art of ye so wise-like and quiet, and that's why I goes to hear him +and sez the prayers wot's writ for me to say and doos as he asks me +to do. But if I'd been unfort'nit enough to live in the parish of +Badsworth under that old liar Leveson, I'd a put my fist in his +jelly face 'fore I'd a listened to a word he had to say! Them's my +sentiments, mates!--and you can read 'em how you like, Mr. Netlips. +God's in heaven we know,--but there's onny churches on earth, an' we +'as to make sure whether there's men or devils inside of 'em 'fore +we goes kneelin' and grubbin' in front of 'uman idols--Good-night +t'ye!" + +With these somewhat disjointed remarks Farmer Thorpe strode out of +the tap-room, whistling loudly to his dog as he reached the door. +The heavy tramp of his departing feet echoed along the outside lane +and died away, and Roger Buggins, glancing at the sheep-faced clock +in the bar, opined that it was 'near closin' hour.' All the company +rose and began to take their leave. + +"Church or no church, Miss Vancourt's a real lady!" declared Dan +Bidley emphatically--"She may have her reasons, an' good ones too, +for not attending service, but she ain't no heathen, I'm sartin' +sure o' that." + +"You cannot argumentarially be sure of what you do not know," said +Mr. Netlips, with a tight smile, buttoning on his overcoat--"A +heathen is a proscription of the law, and cannot enjoy the rights of +the commons." + +Dan stared. + +"There ain't no proscription of the law in stayin' away from +church," he said--"Nobody's bound to go. Lords nor commons can't +compel us." + +Mr. Netlips shook his head and frowned darkly, with the air of one +who could unveil a great mystery if he chose. + +"Compulsion is a legal community," he said--"And while powerless to +bring affluence to the Christian conscience, it culminates in the +citizenship of the heathen. Miss Vancourt, as her father's daughter, +should be represented by the baptized spirit, and not by the +afflatus of the ungenerate! Good-night!" + +Still puckering his brow into lines of mysterious suggestiveness, +the learned Netlips went his way, Roger Buggins gazing after him +admiringly. + +"That man's reg'lar lost down 'ere,"--he observed--"He oughter ha' +been in Parliament." + +"Ah, so he ought!" agreed Dan Ridley--"Where's there's fog he'd a +made it foggier, and where's there's no understandin' he'd a made it +less understandable. I daresay he'd a bin Prime Minister in no time- +-he's just the sort. They likes a good old muddler for that work-- +someone as has the knack o' addlin' the people's brains an' makin' +them see a straight line as though'twere crooked. It keeps things +quiet an' yet worrity-like--first up, then down--this way, then that +way, an' never nothin' certain, but plenty o' big words rantin' +round. That's Netlips all over,--it's in the shape of his 'ed,--he +was born like it. I don't like his style myself,--but he'd make a +grand cab-nit minister!" + +"Ay, so he would!" acquiesced Buggins, as he drew the little red +curtains across the windows of the tap-room and extinguished the +hanging lamp--"Easy rest ye, Dan!" + +"Same to you, Mr. Buggins!" responded the tailor cheerfully, as he +turned out into the cool sweet dimness of the hawthorn-hedged lane +in which the 'Mother Huff' stood--"I make bold to say that church or +no church, Miss Vancourt's bein' at her own 'ouse 'ull be a gain an' +a blessing to the village." + +"Mebbe so," returned Buggins laconically,--and closing his door he +barred it across for the night, while Dan Ridley, full of the half- +poetic, half philosophic thoughts which the subjects of religion and +religious worship frequently excite in a more or less untutored +rustic mind, trudged slowly homeward. + +During these days, Maryllia herself, unconscious of the remarks +passed upon her as the lady of the Manor by her village neighbours, +had not been idle, nor had she suffered much from depression of +spirits, though, socially speaking, she was having what she +privately considered in her own mind 'rather a dull time.' To begin +with, everybody in the neighbourhood that was anybody in the +neighbourhood, had called upon her,--and the antique oaken table in +the great hall was littered with a snowy array of variously shaped +bits of pasteboard, bearing names small and great,--names of old +county families,--names of new mushroom gentry,--names of clergymen +and their wives in profusion, and one or two modest cards with the +plain 'Mr.' of the only young bachelors anywhere near for fifteen +miles round. Nearly every man had a wife--"Such a pity!" commented +Maryllia, when noting the fact--"One can never ask any of them to +dinner without their dragons!" + +Most of the callers had paid their 'duty visits' at a time of the +afternoon when she was always out,--roaming over her own woods and +fields, and 'taking stock' as she said, of her own possessions,--but +on one or two occasions she had been caught 'in,' and this was the +case when Sir Morton Pippitt, accompanied by his daughter Tabitha, +Mr. Julian Adderley, and Mr. Marius Longford were announced just at +the apt and fitting hour of 'five-o'clock tea.' Rising from the +chair where she had negligently thrown herself to read for a quiet +half hour, she set aside her book, and received those important +personages with the careless ease and amiable indifference which was +a 'manner familiar' to her, and which invariably succeeded in making +less graceful persons than she was, feel wretchedly awkward and +unhappy about the management of their hands and feet. With a smiling +upward and downward glance, she mastered Sir Morton Pippitt's +'striking and jovial personality,'--his stiffly-carried upright +form, large lower chest, close-shaven red face, and pleasantly clean +white hair,--"The very picture of a Bone-Melter"--she thought--"He +looks as if he had been boiled all over himself--quite a nice well- +washed old man,"--her observant eyes flashed over the attenuated +form of Julian Adderley with a sparkle of humour,--she noticed the +careful carelessness of his attire, the artistic 'set' of his ruddy +locks, the eccentric cut of his trousers, and the, to himself, +peculiar knot of his tie. + +"The poor thing wants to be something out of the common and can't +quite manage it," she mentally decided, while she viewed with +extreme disfavour the feline elegance affected by Mr. Marius +Longford, and the sleek smile, practised by him 'for women only,' +with which he blandly admitted her existence. To Miss Tabitha Pippit +she offered a chair of capacious dimensions, amply provided with +large down cushons, inviting her to sit down in it with a gentleness +which implied kindly consideration for her years and for the fatigue +she might possibly experience as a result of the drive over from +Badsworth Hall,--whereat the severe spinster's chronically red nose +reddened more visibly, and between her thin lips she sharply +enunciated her preference for 'a higher seat,--no cushions, thank +you!' Thereupon she selected the 'higher seat' for herself, in the +shape of an old-fashioned music-stool, without back or arm-rest, and +sat stiffly upon it like a draper's clothed dummy put up in a window +for public inspection. Maryllia smiled,--she knew that kind of woman +well;--and paying only the most casual attention to her for the rest +of the time, returned to her own place by the open windows and began +to dispense the tea, while Sir Morton Pippitt opened conversation by +feigning to recall having met her some two or three years back. He +was not altogether in the best of humours, the sight of his recently +dismissed butler, Primmins, having upset his nerves. He knew how +servants 'talked.' Who could tell what Primmins might not say in his +new situation at Abbot's Manor, of his former experiences at +Badsworth Hall? And so it was with a somewhat heated countenance +that Sir Morton endeavoured to allude to a former acquaintance with +his hostess at a Foreign Office function. + +"Oh no, I don't think so," said Maryllia, lazily dropping lumps of +sugar into the tea-cups--"Do you take sugar? I ought to ask, I +know,--such a number of men have the gout nowadays, and they take +saccharine. I haven't any saccharine,--so sorry! You do like sugar, +Mr. Adderley? How nice of you!" And she smiled. "None for you, Mr. +Longford? I thought not. You, Miss Pippitt? No! Everybody else, yes? +That's all right! The Foreign Office? I think not, Sir Morton,--I +gave up going there long ago when I was quite young. My aunt, Mrs. +Fred Vancourt, always went--you must have met her and taken her for +me, I always hated a Foreign Office 'crush.' Such big receptions +bore one terribly--you never see anybody you really want to know, +and the Prime Minister always looks tired to death. His face is a +study in several agonies. Two or three years ago? Oh no,--I don't +think I was in London at that time. And you were there, were you? +Really!" + +She handed a cup of tea with a bewitching smile and a 'Will you +kindly pass it?' to Julian Adderley, who so impetuously accepted the +task she imposed upon him of acting as general waiter to the +company, that in hastening towards her he caught his foot in the +trailing laces of her gown and nearly fell over the tea-tray. + +"A thousand pardons!" he murmured, righting himself with an effort-- +"So clumsy of me!" + +"Don't mention it!" said Maryllia, placidly--"Will you hand bread- +and-butter to Miss Pippitt, Do you take hot cake, Sir Morton?" + +Sir Morton's face had become considerably redder during this +interval, and, as he spread his handkerchief out on one knee to +receive the possible dribblings of tea from the cup he had begun to +sip at somewhat noisily, he looked as he certainly felt, rather at a +loss what next to say. He was not long in this state of indecision, +however, for a bright idea occurred to him, causing a smile to +spread among his loose cheek-wrinkles. + +"I'm sorry my friend the Duke of Lumpton has left me," he said with +unctuous pomp. "He would have been delighted--er--delighted to call +with me to-day--" + +"Who is he?" enquired Maryllia, languidly. + +Again Sir Morton reddened, but managed to conceal his discomfiture +in a fat laugh. + +"Well, my dear lady, he is Lumpton!--that is enough for him, and for +most people--" + +"Really?--Oh--well--of course!--I suppose so!" interrupted Maryllia, +with an expressive smile, which caused Miss Tabitha's angular form, +perched as it was on the high music-stool, to quiver with spite, and +moved Miss Tabitha's neatly gloved fingers to clench like a cat's +claws in their kid sheaths with an insane desire to scratch the fair +face on which that smile was reflected. + +"He is a charming fellow, the Duke-charming-charming!" went on Sir +Morton, unconscious of the complex workings of thought in his +elderly daughter's acidulated brain! "And his great 'chum,' Lord +Mawdenham, has also been staying with us--but they left Badsworth +yesterday, I'm sorry to say. They travelled up to London with Lady +Elizabeth Messing, who paid us a visit of two or three days--" + +"Lady Elizabeth Messing!" echoed Maryllia, with a sudden ripple of +laughter--"Dear me! Did you have her staying with you? How very nice +of you! She is such a terror!" + +Mr. Marius Longford stroked one of his pussy-cat whiskers +thoughtfully, and put in his word. + +"Lady Elizabeth spoke of you, Miss Vancourt, several times," he +said. "In fact"--and he smiled--"she had a good deal to say! She +remembers meeting you in Paris, and--if I mistake not--also at +Homburg on one occasion. She was surprised to hear you were coming +to live in this dull country place--she said it would never suit you +at all--you were altogether too brilliant--er--" he bowed--" and er- +-charming!" This complimentary phrase was spoken with the air of a +beneficent paterfamilias giving a child a bon-bon. + +Maryllia's glance swept over him carelessly. + +"Much obliged to her, I'm sure!" she said--"I can quite imagine the +anxiety she felt concerning me! So good of her! Is she a great +friend of yours?" + +Mr. Longford looked slightly disconcerted. + +"Well, no," he replied--"I have only during these last few days-- +through Sir Morton--had the pleasure of her acquaintance--" + +"Mr. Longford is not a 'society' man!" said Sir Morton, with a +chuckle--"He lives on the heights of Parnassus--and looks down with +scorn on the browsing sheep in the valleys below! He is a great +author!" + +"Indeed!" and Maryllia raised her delicately arched eyebrows with a +faint movement of polite surprise--"But all authors are great +nowadays, aren't they? There are no little ones left." + +"Oh, yes, indeed, and alas, there are!" exclaimed Julian Adderley, +flourishing his emptied tea-cup in the air before setting it back in +its saucer and depositing the whole on a table before him; "I am one +of them, Miss Vancourt! Pray be merciful to me!" + +The absurd attitude of appeal he assumed moved Maryllia to a laugh. + +"Well, when you look like that I guess I will!" she said playfully, +not without a sense of liking for the quaint human creature who so +willingly made himself ridiculous without being conscious of it-- +"What is your line in the small way?" + +"Verse!" he replied, with tragic emphasis--"Verse which nobody +reads--verse which nobody wants--verse which whenever it struggles +into publication, my erudite friend here, Mr. Longford, batters into +pulp with a sledge-hammer review of half-a-dozen lines in the +heavier magazines. Verse, my dear Miss Vancourt!--verse written to +please myself, though its results do not feed myself. But what +matter! I am happy! This village of St. Rest, for example, has +exercised a spell of enchantment over me. It has soothed my soul! So +much so, that I have taken a cottage in a wood--how melodious that +sounds!--at the modest rent of a pound a week. That much I can +afford,--that much I will risk--and on the air, the water, the nuts, +the berries, the fruits, the flowers, I will live like a primaeval +man, and let the baser world go by!" He ran his fingers through his +long hair. "It will be an experience! So new--so fresh!" + +Miss Tabitha sniffed sarcastically, and gave a short, hard laugh. + +"I hope you'll enjoy yourself!" she said tartly--"But you'll soon +tire. I told you at once when you said you had decided to spend the +summer in this neighbourhood that you'd regret it. You'll find it +very dull." + +"Oh, I don't think he will!" murmured Maryllia graciously; "He will +be writing poetry all the time, you see! Besides, with you and Sir +Morton as neighbours, how CAN he feel dull? Won't you have some more +tea?" + +"No, thank you!" and Miss Pippitt rose,--"Father, we must be going. +You have not yet explained to Miss Vancourt the object of our +visit." + +"True, true!" and Sir Morton got out of his chair with some +difficulty--"Time flies fast in such fascinating company!" and he +smiled beamingly--"We came, my dear lady, to ask you to dine with us +on Thursday next at Badsworth Hall." No words could convey the +pomposity which Sir Morton managed to infuse into this simple +sentence. To dine at Badsworth was, or ought to be, according to his +idea, the utmost height of human bliss and ambition. "We will invite +some of our most distinguished neighbours to meet you,--there are a +few of the old stock left--" this as if he were of the 'old stock' +himself;--"I knew your father--poor fellow!--and of course I +remember seeing you as a child, though you don't remember me--ha- +ha!--but I shall be delighted to welcome you under my roof--" + +"Thanks so much!" said Maryllia, demurely--"But please let it be for +another time, will you? I haven't a single evening disengaged +between this and the end of June! So sorry! I'll come over to tea +some day, with pleasure! I know Badsworth. Dear old place!--quite +famous too, once in the bygone days--almost as famous as Abbot's +Manor itself. Let me see!" and she looked up at the ceiling +musingly--"There was a Badsworth who fought against the +Commonwealth,--and there was another who was Prime Minister or +something of that kind,--then there was a Sir Thomas Badsworth who +wrote books--and another who did some wonderful service for King +James the First--yes, and there were some lovely women in the +family, too--I suppose their portraits are all there? Yes--I thought +so!"--this as Sir Morton nodded a blandly possessive affirmative-- +"How things change, don't they? Poor old Badsworth! So funny to +think you live there! Oh, yes! I'll come over--certainly I'll come +over,--some day!" + +Thus murmuring polite platitudes, Maryllia bade her visitors adieu. +Sir Morton conquered an inclination to gasp for breath and say +'Damn!' at the young lady's careless refusal of his invitation to +dinner,--Miss Tabitha secretly rejoiced. + +"I'm sure I don't want her at Badsworth," she said within herself, +viciously--"Nasty little insolent conceited thing! I believe her +hair is dyed, and her complexion put on! A regular play-actress!" + +Unconscious of the spinster's amiable thoughts, Maryllia was holding +out a hand to her. + +"Good-bye!" she said--"So kind of you to come and see me! I'm sure +you think I must be lonely here. But I'm not, really! I don't think +I ever shall be,--because as soon as I have got the house quite in +order, I am going to ask a great many friends to stay with me in +turn. They will enjoy seeing the old place, and country air is such +a boon to London people! Good-bye!"--and here she turned to Marius +Longford--"I'm afraid I haven't read any of your books!--anyway I +expect they would be too deep for me. Wouldn't they?" + +"Lord Roxmouth has been good enough to express his liking for my +poor efforts," he replied, with a slight covert smile--"I believe +you know him?" + +"Oh, quite well--quite too well!" said Maryllia, without any +discomposure--"But what he likes, I always detest. Unfortunate, +isn't it! So I mustn't even try to read your works! You, Mr. +Adderley"--and she laughingly looked up at that gentleman, who, hat +in hand, was pensively drooping in a farewell attitude before her,-- +"you are going to stop here all summer, aren't you? And in a +cottage! How delightful! Anywhere near the Manor?" + +"I am not so happy as to have found a domicile on this side Eden!" +murmured Adderley, with a languishing look--"My humble hut is set +some distance apart,--about a mile beyond the rectory." + +"Then your best neighbour will be the parson," said Maryllia, gaily- +-"So improving to your morals!" + +"Possibly--possibly! "assented Adderley--" Mr. Walden is not exactly +like other parsons,--there is something wonderfully attractive about +him--" + +"Something wonderfully conceited and unbearable, you mean!" snapped +out Sir Morton--"Come, come!--we must be off! The horses are at the +door,--can't keep them standing! Miss Vancourt doesn't want to hear +anything about the parson. She'll find him out soon enough for +herself. He's an upstart, my dear lady--take my word for it!--a +pretentious University prig and upstart! You'll never meet HIM at +Badsworth!--ha-ha-ha! Never! Sorry you can't dine on Thursday! Never +mind, never mind! Another time! Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye!" and with a slight further exchange of salutations +Maryllia found herself relieved of her visitors. Of all the four, +Adderley alone looked back with a half-appealing smile, and received +an encouraging little nod for his pains--a nod which said 'Yes--you +can come again if you like!' The wheels of the Pippitt equipage +crunched heavily down the drive, and as the grating sound died away, +clear on the quiet air came the soft slow chime of the church-bells +ringing. It was near sunset,--and Walden sometimes held a short +simple service of evening prayer at that hour. Leaning against the +open window Maryllia listened. + +"How pretty it is!" she said--"It must be the nearness of the river +that makes the tone of the bells so soft and mellow! Oh, what an +insufferable old snob that Pippitt is! And what a precious crew of +'friends' he boasts of! Lumpton, who, when he was a few years +younger, danced the skirt-dance in women's clothes for forty pounds +a night at a New York restaurant!--Mawdenham, who pawned all his +mother's jewels to pay his losses at Bridge--and Lady Elizabeth +Messing, who is such an abandoned old creature that her own married +daughters won't know her! Oh, dear! And I believe the Knighted Bone- +Boiler thinks they are quite good style! That literary man, +Longford, was a most unprepossessing looking object,--a friend of +Roxmouth's too, which makes him all the more unpleasant. And of +course he will at once write off and say he has seen me. And then-- +and then-dear me! I wonder where Sir Morton picks these people up! +He doesn't like the parson here evidently--'a pretentious University +prig and upstart'--what a strong way of putting it!--very strong for +such a clean-looking old man! 'A pretentious University prig and +upstart' are you, Mr. Walden!" Here, smiling to herself, she moved +out into the garden and called her dog to her side--"Do you hear +that, Plato? Our next-door neighbour is a prig as well as a parson!- +-isn't it dreadful!" Plato looked up at her with great loving brown +eyes and wagged his plumy tail. "I believe he is,--and yet--yet all +the same, I think--yes!--I think, as soon as a convenient +opportunity presents itself, I'll ask him to dinner." + + + + +XIII + + +The next day Maryllia was up betimes, and directly after breakfast +she sent for Mrs. Spruce. That good lady, moved by the summons into +sudden trepidation, lest some duty had been forgotten, or some +clause of the household 'rules and regulations' left unfulfilled, +hastened to the inner library, a small octagonal room communicating +with the larger apartment, and there found her mistress sitting on a +low stool, with her lap full of visiting-cards which she was busily +sorting. + +"Spruce!" and she looked up from her occupation with a mock tragic +air--"I'm dull! Positively D U double L! DULL!" + +Mrs. Spruce stared,--but merely said: + +"Lor, Miss!" and folded her hands on her apron, awaiting the next +word. + +"I'm dull, dull, dull!" repeated Maryllia, springing up and tossing +all the cards into a wide wicker basket near at hand--"I don't know +what to do with myself, Spruce! I've got nobody to talk to, nobody +to play with, nobody to sing to, nobody to amuse me at all, at all! +I've seen everything inside and outside the Manor,--I've visited the +church,--I know the village--I've talked to dear old Josey +Letherbarrow till he must be just tired of me,--he's certainly the +cleverest man in the place,--and yesterday the Pippitts came and +finished me. I'm done! I throw up the sponge!--that's slang, Spruce! +There's nobody to see, nowhere to go, nothing to do. It's awful! +'The time is out of joint, O cursed spite!' That's Hamlet. Something +must HAPPEN, Spruce!"--and here she executed a playful pas-seul +around the old housekeeper--"There! Isn't that pretty? Don't look so +astonished!--you'll see ever so much worse than that by and bye! I +am going to have company. I am, really! I shall fill the house! Get +all the beds aired, and all the bedrooms swept out! I shall ask +heaps of people,--all the baddest, maddest folks I can find! I want +to be bad and mad myself! There's nobody bad or mad enough to keep +me going down here. Look at these!" And she raked among the +visiting-cards and selected a few. "Listen!--'Miss Ittlethwaite, +Miss Agnes Ittlethwaite, Miss Barbara Ittlethwaite, Miss Christina +Ittlethwaite, Ittlethwaite Park.' It makes my tongue all rough and +funny to read their names! They've called,--and I suppose I shall +have to call back, but I don't want to. What's the good? I'm sure I +never shall get on with the Ittlethwaites,--we shall never, never +agree! Do you know them, Spruce? Who are they?" + +Mrs. Spruce drew a long breath, rolled up her eyes, and began: + +"Which the Misses Ittlethwaite is a county fam'ly, Miss, livin' some +seven or eight miles from here as proud as proud, owin' to their +forebears 'avin' sworn death on Magnum Chartus for servin' of King +John--an' Miss Ittlethwaite proper, she be gettin' on in years, but +she's a great huntin' lady, an' come November is allus to be seen +follerin' the 'ounds, stickin' to the saddle wonderful for 'er size +an' time o' life, an' Miss Barbara, she doos a lot o' sick visitin', +an' Bible readin', not 'ere, for our people won't stand it, an' +Passon Walden ain't great on breakin' into private 'ouses without +owners' consents for Bible readin', but she, she's 'Igh, an' tramps +into Riversford near every day which the carrier's cart brings 'er +'ome to 'er own place they 'avin' given up a kerridge owin' to +spekylation in railways, an' Miss Hagnes she works lovely with 'er +needle, an' makes altar cloths an' vestis for Mr. Francis Anthony, +the 'Igh Church clergyman at Riversford, he not bein' married, +though myself I should say there worn't no chance for 'er, bein' +frightful skinny an' a bit off in 'er looks--an' Miss Christina she +do still play at bein' a baby like, she's the youngest, an' over +forty, yet quite a giddy in 'er way, wearin' ribbins round her +waist, an' if 'twarn't for 'er cheeks droppin' in long like, she +wouldn't look so bad, but they're all that proud--" + +"That'll do, Spruce, that'll do!" cried Maryllia, putting her hands +to her ears--"No more Ittlethwaites, please, for the present! +Sufficient for the day is the Magnum Chartus thereof! Who comes +here?" and she read from another card,--"'Mrs. Mordaunt Appleby.' +Also a smaller label which says, 'Mr. Mordaunt Appleby'! More county +family pride or what?" + +"Oh lor' no, Miss, Mordaunt Appleby's only the brewer of +Riversford," said Mrs. Spruce, casually. "He's got the biggest 'ouse +in the town, but people remembers 'im when he was a very shabby lot +indeed,-an awful shabby lot. HE ain't nobody, Miss-he's just got a +bit o' money which makes the commoner sort wag tails for 'im, but +it's like his cheek to call 'ere at all. Sir Morton Pippitt, bein' +in. the bone-meltin' line, as 'im up to dine now an' agin, just to +keep in with 'im like, for he's a nasty temper, an' his wife's got +the longest and spitefullest tongue in all the neighbourhood. But +you needn't take up wi' them, Miss-they ain't in your line,-which +some brewers is gentlemen, an' Appleby ain't--YOUR Pa wouldn't never +know HIS Pa." + +"Then that's settled!" said Maryllia, with a sigh of relief. +"Depart, Mordaunt Applebys into the limbo of forgotten callers!"-and +she tossed the cards aside-"Here are the Pippitt names,-I small +remember them all right-Pip-pitt and Ittlethwaite have a tendency to +raise blisters of memory on the brain. What is this neat looking +little bit of pasteboard-' The Rev. John Walden.' Yes!-he called two +or three days ago when I was out." + +Mrs. Spruce sniffed a sniff of meaning, but said nothing. + +"I've not been to church yet"-went on Maryllia medi-tatively. "I +dare say he thinks me quite a dreadful person. But I hate going to +church,-it's so stupid-so boresome-and oh!-such a waste of time!" + +Mrs. Spruce still held her peace. Maryllia gave her a little side- +glance and noted a certain wistfulness and wonder in the rosy, +wrinkled face which was not without its own pathos. + +"I suppose everybody about here goes to church at least Once on +Sundays," pursued Maryllia-"Don't they?" + +"Them as likes Mr. Walden goes," answered Mrs. Spruce promptly-"Then +as don't stops away. Sir Morton Pippitt used allus to attend 'ere +reg'ler when the buildin' was nowt but ruin, an' 'e 'ad a tin roof +put over it,-'e was that proud o' the tin roof you'd a' thought +'twas made o' pure gold, an' he was just wild when Mr. Walden pulled +it all off an' built up the walls an' roof again as they should be +all at 'is own expense, an' he went away from the place for sheer +spite like, an' stayed abroad a whole year, an' when 'e come back +again 'e never wouldn't go nigh it, an' now 'e attends service at +Badsworth Church,-Badsworth Barn we calls it,-for'tain't nowt but a +barn which Mr. Leveson keeps 'Igh as 'Igh with a bit o' tinsel an' +six candles, though it's the mis'ablest place ye ever set eyes on, +an' 'e do look a caution 'isself with what 'e calls a vestiment +'angin' down over 'is back, which is a baek as fat as porpuses, the +Lord forgive me for sayin.' it, but Sir Morton 'e be that set +against Mr. Walden he'll rather say 'is prayers in a pig-stye with a +pig for the minister than in our church, since it's been all +restored an' conskrated--then, as I told you just now, Miss, the +Ittlethwaites goes to Riversford where they gits opratick music with +the 'Lord be merciful to us mis'able sinners'--an' percessions with +candles,--so our church is mostly filled wi' the village folks, +farmer bodies an' sich-like,--there ain't no grand people what +comes, though we don't miss 'em, for Passon 'e don't let us want for +nothin' an' when there's a man out o' work, or a woman sick, or a +child what's pulin' a bit, an' ricketty, he's alhis ready to 'elp, +with all 'e 'as an' welcome, payin' doctor's fees often,--an' takin' +all the medicine bills on 'isself besides. Ah, 'e's a rare good sort +is Passon Walden, an' so you'd say yerself, Miss, if ever you took +on your mind to go and hear 'im preach, an' studied 'is ways for a +bit as 'twere an' asked 'bout 'im in the village, for 'e's fair an' +open as the day an' ain't got no sly, sneaky tricks in 'im,--he's +just a man, an' a good one--an' that's as rare a thing to find in +this world as a di'mond in a wash-tub, an' makin' so bold, Miss, if +you'd onny go to church next Sunday---" + +Maryllia interrupted her by a little gesture. + +"I can't, Spruce!" she said, but with great gentleness--"I know it's +the right and proper thing for me to do in the country if I wish to +stand well with my neighbours,-but I can't! I don't believe in it,-- +and I won't pretend that I believe!" + +Poor Mrs. Spruce felt a sudden choking in her throat, and her +motherly face grew red and pale by turns. Miss Maryllia, the old +squire's daughter, was--what? A heathen?--an unbeliever--an atheist? +Oh, surely it was not possible--it could not be!--she would not +accept the idea that a creature so dainty and pretty, so fair and +winsome, could be cast adrift on the darkness of life without any +trust in the saving grace of the Christian Faith! Limited as were +Mrs. Spruce's powers of intelligence, she was conscious enough that +there would be something sweet and strong lost out of the world, +which nothing could replace, were the message of Christ withdrawn +from it. The perplexity of her thoughts was reflected on her +countenance and Maryllia, watching her, smiled a little sadly. + +"You mustn't think I don't believe in God, Spruce,"--she said +slowly--"I do! But I can't agree with all the churches teach about +Him. They make Him out to be a cruel, jealous and revengeful Being-- +-" + +"Mr. Walden don't---," put in Mrs. Spruce, quickly. + +"And I like to think of Him as all love and pity and goodness," went +on Maryllia, not heeding her--"and I don't say prayers, because I +think He knows what is best for me without my asking. Do you +understand? So it's really no use my going to church, unless just +out of curiosity--and perhaps I will some day do that,--I'll see +about it! But I must know Mr. Walden a little better first,--I must +find out for myself what kind of a man he is, before I make up my +mind to endure such a martyrdom as listening to a sermon! I simply +loathe sermons! I suppose I must have had too many of them when I +was a child. Surely you remember, Spruce, that I used to be taken +into Riversford to church?" Mrs. Spruce nodded emphatically in the +affirmative. "Yes!--because when father was alive the church here +was only a ruin. And I used to go to sleep over the sermons always-- +and once I fell off my seat and had to be carried out. It was +dreadful! Now Uncle Fred never went to church,--nor Aunt Emily. So +I've quite got out of the way of going--nobody is very particular +about it in Paris or London, you see. But perhaps I'll try and hear +Mr. Walden preach--just once--and I'll tell you then what I think +about it. I'll put his card on the mantelpiece to remind me!" + +And she suited the action to the word, Mrs. Spruce gazing at her in +a kind of mild stupefaction. It seemed such a very odd thing to +stick up a clergyman's card as a reminder to go to church 'just +once' some Sunday. + +Meanwhile Maryllia continued, "Now, Spruce, you must begin to be +busy! You must prepare the Manor for the reception of all sorts of +people, small and great. I feel that the time has come for 'company, +company!' And in the first place I'm going to send for Cicely +Bourne,--she's my pet 'genius'--and I'm paying the cost of her +musical education in Paris. She's an orphan--like me--she's all +alone in the world--like me;--and we're devoted to each other. She's +only a child--just over fourteen--but she's simply a wonder!--the +most wonderful musical wonder in the world!--and she has a perfectly +marvellous voice. Her master Gigue says that when she is sixteen she +will have emperors at her feet! Emperors! There are only a few,--but +they'll all be grovelling in the dust before her! You must prepare +some pretty rooms for her, Spruce, those two at the top of the house +that look right over the lawn and woods--and make everything as cosy +as you can. I'll put the finishing touches. And I must send to +London for a grand piano. There's only the dear old spinet in the +drawing-room,--it's sweet to sing to, and Cicely will love it,--but +she must have a glorious 'grand' as well. I shall wire to her to- +day,--I know she'll come at once. She will arrive direct from +Paris,--let me see!"--and she paused meditatively--"when can she +arrive? This is Friday,--yes!--probably she will arrive here Sunday +or Monday morning. So you can get everything ready." + +"Very well, Miss," and Mrs. Spruce, with the usual regulation 'dip' +of respectful submission to her mistress was about to withdraw, when +Maryllia called her back and handed over to her care the wicker +basket full of visiting-cards. + +"Put them all by,"--she said--"When Cicely comes we'll go through +them carefully together, and discuss what to eat, drink and avoid. +Till then, I shall blush unseen, wasting my sweetness on the desert +air! Time enough and to spare for making the acquaintance of the +'county.' Who was it that said: Never know your neighbours'? I +forget,--but he was a wise man, anyway!" + +Mrs. Spruce 'dipped' a second time in silence, and was then allowed +to depart on her various household duties. The good woman's thoughts +were somewhat chaotically jumbled, and most fervently did she long +to send for 'Passon,' her trusted adviser and chief consoler, or +else go to him herself and ask him what he thought concerning the +non-church-going tendencies of her mistress. Was she altogether a +lost sheep? Was there no hope for her entrance into the heavenly +fold? + +"Which I can't and won't believe she's wicked,"--said Mrs. Spruce to +herself--"With that sweet childie face an' eyes she couldn't be! +M'appen 'tis bad example,--'er 'Merican aunt 'avin' no religion as +'twere, an' 'er uncle, Mr. Frederick, was never no great shakes in +'is young days if all the truth was told. Well, well! The Lord 'e +knows 'is own, an' my 'pinion is He ain't a-goin' to do without Miss +Maryllia, for it's allus 'turn again, turn again, why will 'ee die' +sort of thing with Him, an' He don't give out in 'is patience. I'm +glad she's goin' to 'ave a friend to stay with 'er,--that'll do 'er +good and 'earten her up--an' mebbe the friend'll want to go to +church, an' Miss Maryllia 'ull go with her, an' once they listens to +Passon 'twill be all right, for 'is voice do draw you up into a +little bit o' heaven somehow, whether ye likes it or not, an' if +Miss Maryllia once 'ears 'im, she'll be wanting to 'ear 'im again-- +so it's best to leave it all in the Lord's 'ands which makes the +hill straight an' the valleys crooked, an' knows what's good for +both man and beast. Miss Maryllia ain't goin' to miss the Way, the +Truth an' the Life--I'm sartin sure o' that!" + +Thus Mrs. Spruce gravely cogitated, while Maryllia herself, unaware +of the manner in which her immortal destinies were being debated by +the old housekeeper, put on her hat, and ran gaily across the lawn, +her great dog bounding at her side, making for the usual short-cut +across the fields to the village. Arrived there she went straight to +the post-office, a curious little lop-sided half-timbered cottage +with a projecting window, wherein, through the dusty close-latticed +panes could be spied various strange edibles, such as jars of +acidulated drops, toffee, peppermint balls, and barley-sugar-- +likewise one or two stray oranges, some musty-looking cakes, a +handful or so of old nuts, and slabs of chocolate protruding from +shining wrappers of tin-foil,--while a flagrant label of somebody's +'Choice Tea' was suspended over the whole collection, like a flag of +triumph. The owner of this interesting stock-in-trade and the +postmistress of St. Rest, was a quaint-looking little woman, very +rosy, very round, very important in her manner, very brisk and +bright with her eyes, but very slow with her fingers. + +"Which I gets the rheumatiz so bad in my joints," she was wont to +say--"that I often wonders 'ow I knows postage-stamps from telegram- +forms an' register papers from money-orders, an' if you doos them +things wrong Gove'nment never forgives you!" + +"Ah, you'll never get into no trouble with Gove'nment, Missis +Tapple!" her gossips were wont to assure her, "For you be as ezack +as ezack!" + +A compliment which Mrs. Tapple accepted without demur, feeling it to +be no more than her just due. She was, however, in spite of her +'ezack' methods, always a little worried when anything out of the +ordinary occurred, and she began to feel slightly flustered directly +she saw Maryllia swing open her garden gate. She had already, during +the last few days, been at some trouble to decipher various +telegrams which the lady of the Manor had sent down by Primmins for +immediate despatch, such as one to a certain Lord Roxmouth which had +run as follows:--"No time to reply to your letter. In love with pigs +and poultry." + +"It IS 'pigs and poultry,' ain't it?" she had asked anxiously of +Primmins, after studying the message for a considerable time +through, her spectacles. And Primmins, gravely studying it, too, had +replied:-- + +"It is undoubtedly 'pigs and poultry.'" + +"And it IS 'in love' you think?" pursued Mrs. Tapple, with +perplexity furrowing her brow. + +"It is certainly 'in love,'" rejoined Primmins, and the faintest +suggestion of a wink affected his left eyelid. + +Thereupon the telegram was 'sent through' to Riversford on its way +to London, though not without serious misgivings in Mrs. Tapple's +mind as to whether it might not be returned with a 'Gove'nment' +query as to its correctness. And now, when Maryllia herself entered +the office, and said smilingly, "Good-morning! Some foreign +telegram-forms, please!" Mrs. Tapple felt that the hour was come +when her powers of intelligence were about to be tried to the +utmost; and she accordingly began to experience vague qualms of +uneasiness. + +"Foreign telegram-forms, Miss? Is it for Ameriky?" + +"Oh, no!--only for Paris,"--and while the old lady fumbled nervously +in her 'official' drawer, Maryllia glanced around the little +business establishment with amused interest. She had a keen eye for +small details, and she noticed with humorous appreciation Mrs. +Tapple's pink sun-bonnet hanging beside the placarded 'Post Office +Savings Bank' regulations, and a half side of bacon suspended from +the ceiling, apparently for 'curing' purposes, immediately above the +telegraphic apparatus. After a little delay, the required pale +yellow 'Foreign and Colonial' forms were found, and Mrs. Tapple +carefully flattened them out, and set them on her narrow office +counter. + +"Will you have a pencil, or pen and ink, Miss?" she enquired. + +"Pen and ink, please," replied Maryllia; whereat the old +postmistress breathed a sigh of relief. It would be easier to make +out anything at all 'strange and uncommon' in pen and ink than in +pencil-marks which had a trick of 'rubbing.' Leaning lightly against +the counter Maryllia wrote in a clear bold round hand: + + "Miss CICELY BOURNE, + + "17 RUE CROISIE, PARIS. + + "Come to me at once. Shall want you all summer. Have + wired Gigue. Start to-morrow. + + "MARYLLIA VANCOURT." + +She pushed this over to Mrs. Tapple, who thankfully noting that she +was writing another, took time to carefully read and spell over +every word, and mastered it all without difficulty. Meanwhile +Maryllia prepared her second message thus: + + "Louis GIGUE, + + "CONSERVATOIRE, PARIS. + + "Je desire que Cicely passe l'ete avec moi et qu'elle arrive + immediatement. Elle peut tres-bien continuer ses etudes ici. + Vous pouvez suivre, cher maitre, a votre plaisir. + + "MARYLLIA VANCOURT." + +"It's rather long,"--she said thoughtfully, as she finished it. "But +for Gigue it is necessary to explain fully. I hope you can make it +out?" + +Poor Mrs. Tapple quivered with inward agitation as she took the +terrible telegram in hand, and made a brave effort to rise to the +occasion. + +"Yes, Miss," she stammered, "Louis Gigue--G.i.g.u.e., that's right-- +yes--at the Conservatory, Paris." + +"'No, no!" said Maryllia, with a little laugh--"Not Conservatory-- +Conservatoire--TOIRE, t.o.i.r.e., the place where they study music." + +"Oh, yes--I see!" and Mrs. Tapple tried to smile knowingly, as she +fixed her spectacles more firmly on her nose, and began to murmur +slowly--"Je desire, d.e.sire--oh, yes--desire!--que--q.u.e.--Cicely- +-yes that's all right!--passe, an e to pass--yes--now let me wait a +minute; one minute, Miss, if you please!--l'ete--l apostrophe e, +stroke across the e,--t, and e, stroke across the e---" + +Maryllia's eyebrows went up in pretty perplexity. + +"Oh dear, I'm afraid you won't be able to get it right that way!" +she said--"I had better write it in English,--why, here's Mr. +Walden!" This, as she saw the clergyman's tall athletic figure +entering Mrs. Tapple's tiny garden,--"Good-morning, Mr. Walden!" and +as he raised his hat, she smiled graciously--"I want to send off a +French telegram, and I'm afraid it's rather difficult---" + +A glance at Mrs. Tapple explained the rest, and Walden's eyes +twinkled mirthfully. + +"Perhaps _I_ can be of some use, Miss Vancourt," he said. "Shall I +try?" + +Maryllia nodded, and he walked into the little office. + +"Let me send off those telegrams for you, Mrs. Tapple," he said. +"You know you often allow me to amuse myself in that way! I haven't +touched the instrument for a month at least, and am getting quite +out of practice. May I come in?" + +Mrs. Tapple's face shone with relief and gladness. + +"Well now, Mr. Walden, if it isn't a real blessin' that you happened +to look in this mornin'!" she exclaimed--"For now there won't be no +delay,--not but what I knew a bit o' French as a gel, an' I'd 'ave +made my way to spell it out somehow, no matter how slow,--but there! +you're that handy that 'twon't take no time, an' Miss Vancourt will +be sure of her message 'avin' gone straight off from here correct,-- +an' if they makes mistakes at Riversford, 'twon't be my fault!" + +While she thus ran on, Walden was handling the telegraphic +apparatus. His back was turned to Maryllia, but he felt her eyes +upon him,--as indeed they were,--and there was a slight flush of +colour in his bronzed cheeks as he presenty looked round and said: + +"May I have the telegram?" + +"There are two--both for Paris," replied Maryllia, handing him the +filled-up forms--"One is quite easy--in English." "And the other +quite difficult--in French!"--he laughed. "Let me see if I can make +it out correctly." Thereupon he read aloud: "'Louis Gigue, +Conservatoire, Paris. Je desire que Cicely passe l'ete avec moi et +qu'elle arrive immediatement. Elle peut tres-bien continuer ses +etudes ici. Vous pouvez suivre, cher maitre, a votre plaisir.' Is +that right?" + +Maryllia's eyes opened a little more widely,--like blue flowers +wakening to the sun. This country clergyman's pronunciation of +French was perfect,--more perfect than her own trained Parisian +accent. Mrs. Tapple clasped her dumpy red hands in a silent ecstasy +of admiration. 'Passon' knew everything! + +"Is it right?" Walden repeated. + +Maryllia gave a little start. + +"Oh I beg your pardon! Yes--quite right!--thank you ever so much!" + +Click-click-click-click! The telegraphic apparatus was at work, and +the unofficial operator was entirely engrossed in his business. Mrs. +Tapple stood respectfully dumb and motionless, watching him. +Maryllia, leaning against the ledge of the office counter, watched +him, too. She took quiet observation of the well-poised head, +covered with its rich brown-grey waving locks of hair,--the broad +shoulders, the white firm muscular hands that worked the telegraphic +instrument, and she was conscious of the impression of authority, +order, knowledge, and self-possession, which seemed to have come +into the little office with him, and to have created quite a new +atmosphere. Outside, in the small garden, among mignonette and early +flowering sweetpeas, Plato sat on his huge haunches in lion-like +dignity, blinking at the sun,--while Walden's terrier Nebbie +executed absurd but entirely friendly gambols in front of him, now +pouncing down on two forepaws with nose to ground and eyes leering +sideways,--now wagging an excited tail with excessive violence to +demonstrate goodwill and a desire for amity.--and anon giving a +short yelp of suppressed feeling,--to all of which conciliatory +approaches Plato gave no other response than a vast yawn and +meditative stare. + +The monotonous click-click-click continued,--now stopping for a +second, then going on more rapidly again, till Maryllia began to +feel quite unreasonably impatient. She found something irritating at +last in the contemplation of the back of Walden's cranium,--it was +too well-shaped, she decided,--she could discover no fault in it. +Humming a tune carelessly under her breath, she turned towards Mrs. +Tapple's small grocery department, and feigned to be absorbed in an +admiring survey of peppermint balls and toffee. Certain glistening +squares of sticky white substance on a corner shelf commended +themselves to her notice as specimens of stale 'nougat,' wherein the +almonds represented a remote antiquity,--and a mass of stringy +yellow matter laid out in lumps on blue paper and marked 'One Penny +per ounce' claimed attention as a certain 'hardbake' peculiar to St. +Rest, which was best eaten in a highly glutinous condition. A dozen +or so of wrinkled apples which, to judge by their damaged and worn +exteriors, must have been several autumns old, kept melancholy +companionship with assorted packages of the 'Choice Tea' whereof the +label was displayed in the window, and Maryllia was just about +wondering whether she would, or could buy anything out of the musty- +fusty collection, when the click-click-click stopped abruptly, and +Walden stepped forth from the interior 'den' of the post-office. + +"That's all right, Miss Vancourt," he said. "Your telegrams are sent +correctly as far as Riversford anyhow, and there is one operator +there who is acquainted with the French language. Whether they will +transmit correctly from London I shouldn't like to say!--we are a +singular nation, and one of our singularities is that we scorn to +know the language of our nearest neighbours!" + +She smiled up at him,--and as his glance met hers he was taken +aback, as it were, by the pellucid beauty and frank innocence of the +grave dark-blue eyes that shone so serenely into his own. + +"Thank you so very, very much! You have been most kind!" and with a +swift droop of her white eyelids she veiled those seductive 'mirrors +of the soul' beneath a concealing fringe of long golden-brown +lashes--"It's quite a new experience to find a clergyman able and +willing to be a telegraph clerk as well! So useful, isn't it?" + +"In a village like this it is," rejoined Walden, gaily--"And after +all, there's not much use in being a minister unless one can +practically succeed in the art of 'ministering' to every sort of +demand made upon one's capabilities! Even to Miss Vancourt's needs, +should she require anything, from the preservation of trees to the +sending of telegrams, that St. Rest can provide!" + +Again Maryllia glanced at him, and again a little smile lifted the +corners of her mouth. + +"I must pay for the telegrams," she said abruptly--"Mrs. Tapple---" + +"Yes, Miss--I've written it all down," murmured Mrs. Tapple +nervously--"It's right, Mr. Walden, isn't it? If you would be so +good as to look at it, bein' tuppence a word, it do make it +different like, an' m'appen there might be a mistake---" + +Walden glanced over the scrap of paper on which she had scrawled her +rough figures. + +"Fivepence out, I declare, Mrs. Tapple!" he said, merrily. "Dear, +dear! Whatever is going to become of you, eh? To cheat yourself +wouldn't matter--nobody minds THAT--but to do the British Government +out of fivepence would be a dreadful thing! Now if I had not seen +this you would have been what is called 'short' this evening in +making up accounts." Here he handed the corrected paper to Maryllia. +"I think you will find that right." + +Maryllia opened her purse and paid the amount,--and Mrs. Tapple, in +giving her change for a sovereign, included among the coins a bright +new threepenny piece with a hole in it. Spying this little bit of +silver, Maryllia held it up in front of Walden's eyes triumphantly. + +"Luck!" she exclaimed--"That's for you! It's a reward for your +telegraphic operations! Will you be grateful if I give it to you?" + +He laughed. + +"Profoundly! It shall be my D.S.O.!" + +"Then there you are!" and she placed the tiny coin in the palm of +the hand he held out to receive it. "The labourer is worthy of his +hire! Now you can never go about like some clergymen, grumbling and +saying you work for no pay!" Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "What +shall we do next? Oh, I know! Let's buy some acid drops!" + +Mrs. Tapple stared and smiled. + +"Or pear-drops," continued Maryllia, glancing critically at the +various jars of 'sweeties,'--"I see the real old-fashioned pink ones +up there,--lumpy at one end and tapering at the other. Do you like +them? Or brandy balls? I think the pear-drops carry one back to the +age of ten most quickly! But which do you prefer?" + +Walden tried to look serious, but could not succeed. Laughter +twinkled all over his face, and he began to feel extremely young. + +"Well,--really, Miss Vancourt,---" he began. + +"There, I know what you are going to say!" exclaimed Maryllia--"You +are going to tell me that it would never do for a clergyman to be +seen munching pear-drops in his own parish. _I_ understand! But +clergymen do ever so much. worse than that sometimes. They do, +really! Two ounces of pear-drops for me, Mrs. Tapple, please!--and +one of brandy balls!" + +Mrs. Tapple bustled out of her 'Gove'nment' office, and came to the +grocery counter to dispense these dainties. + +"They stick to the jar so," said Maryllia, watching her +thoughtfully; "They always did. I remember, as a child, seeing a man +put his finger in to detach them. Don't put your finger in, Mrs. +Tapple!--take a bit of wood--an old skewer or something. Oh, they're +coming out all right! That's it!" And she popped one of the pear- +drops into her mouth. "They are really very good--better than French +fondants--so much more innocent and refreshing!" Here she took +possession of the little paper-bags which Mrs. Tapple had filled +with the sweets. "Thank you, Mrs. Tapple! If any answers to my +telegrams come from Paris, please send them up to the Manor at once. +Good-morning!" + +"Good-morning, Miss!" And Mrs. Tapple, curtseying, pulled the door +of her double establishment wider open to let the young lady pass +out, which she did, with a smile and nod, Walden following her. +Plato rose and paced majestically after his mistress, Nebbie +trotting meekly at the rear, and so they all went forth from the +postmistress's garden into the road, where Walden, pausing, raised +his hat in farewell. + +"Oh, are you going?" queried Maryllia. "Won't you walk with me as +far as your own rectory?" + +"Certainly, if you wish it,"--he answered with a slight touch of +embarrassment; "I thought perhaps---" + +"You thought perhaps,--what?" laughed Maryllia, glancing up at him +archly--"That I was going to make you eat pear-drops against your +will? Not I! I wouldn't be so rude. But I really thought I ought to +buy something from Mrs. Tapple,--she was so worried, poor old dear!- +-till you came in. Then she looked as happy as though she saw a +vision of angels. She's a perfect picture, with her funny old shawl +and spectacles and knobbly red fingers--and do you know, all the +time you were working the telegraph you were under the fragrant +shadow of a big piece of bacon which was 'curing,'--positively +'curing' over your head! Couldn't you smell it?" + +Walden's eyes twinkled. + +"There was certainly a fine aroma in the air," he said--"But it +seemed to me no more than the customary perfume common to Mrs. +Tapple's surroundings. I daresay it was new to you! A country +clergyman is perhaps the only human being who has to inure himself +to bacon odours as the prevailing sweetness of cottage interiors." + +Maryllia laughed. She had a pretty laugh, silver-clear and joyous +without loudness. + +"Fancy your being so clever as to be able to send off telegrams!" +she exclaimed--"What an accomplishment for a Churchman! Don't you +want to know all about the messages you sent?--who the persons are, +and what I have to do with them?" + +"Not in the least!" answered John, smiling. + +"Are you not of a curious disposition?" + +"I never care about other people's business," he said, meeting her +upturned eyes with friendly frankness--"I have enough to do to +attend to my own." + +"Then you are positively inhuman!" declared Maryllia--"And +absolutely unnatural! You are, really! Every two-legged creature on +earth wants to find out all the ins and cuts of every other two- +legged creature,--for if this were not the case wars would be at an +end, and the wicked cease from troubling and the weary be at rest. +So just because you don't want to know about my two friends in +Paris, I'm going to tell you. Louis Gigue is the greatest teacher of +singing there is,--and Cicely Bourne is his pupil, a perfectly +wonderful little girl with a marvellous compass of voice, whose +training and education I am paying for. I want her with me here--and +I have sent for her;--Gigue can come on if he thinks it necessary to +give her a few lessons during the summer, but of course she is not +to sing in public until she is sixteen. She is only fourteen now." + +Walden listened in silence. He was looking at his companion +sideways, and noting the delicate ebb and flow of the rose tint in +her cheeks, the bright flecks of gold in the otherwise brown hair, +and the light poise of her dainty rounded figure as she stepped +along beside him with an almost aerial grace and swiftness. + +"She was the child of a Cornish labourer,"--went on Maryllia. "Her +mother sold her for ten pounds. Yes!--wasn't it dreadful!" This, as +John's face expressed surprise. "But it is true! You shall hear all +the story some day,--it is quite a little romance. And she is so +clever!--you would think her ever so much older than she is, to hear +her talk. Sometimes she is rather blunt, and people get offended +with her-but she is true--oh, so true!--she wouldn't do a mean +action for the world! She is just devoted to me,--and that is +perhaps why I am devoted to her,--because after all, it's a great +thing to be loved, isn't it?" + +"It is indeed!" replied John, mechanically, beginning to feel a +little dazed under the influence of the bright eyes, animated face, +smiling lips and clear, sweet voice--"It ought to be the best of all +things." + +"It ought to be, and it is!" declared Maryllia emphatically. "Oh, +what a lovely bush of lilac!" And she hastened on a few steps in +order to look more closely at the admired blossoms, which were +swaying in the light breeze over the top of a thick green hedge-- +"Why, it must be growing in your garden! Yes, it is!--of course it +is!--this is your gate. May I come in?" + +She paused, her hand on the latch,--and for a moment Walden +hesitated. A wave of colour swept up to his brows,--he was conscious +of a struggling desire to refuse her request, united to a still more +earnest craving to grant it. She looked at him, wistfully smiling. + +"May I come in?" she repeated. + +He advanced, and opened the gate, standing aside for her to pass. + +"Of course you may!"--he said gently,--"And welcome!" + + + + +XIV + + +Now it happened that Bainton was at that moment engaged in training +some long branches of honey-suckle across the rectory walls, and +being half-way up a ladder for the purpose, the surprise he +experienced at seeing 'Passon' and Miss Vancourt enter the garden +together and walk slowly side by side across the lawn, was so +excessive, that in jerking his head round to convince himself that +it was not a vision but a reality, he nearly lost his balance. + +"Woa, steady!" he muttered, addressing the ladder which for a second +swayed beneath him--"Woa, I sez! This ain't no billowy ocean with +wot they calls an underground swell! So the ice 'ave broke, 'ave it! +She, wot don't like clergymen, an' he, wot don't like ladies, 'as +both come to saunterin' peaceful like with one another over the +blessed green grass all on a fine May mornin'! Which it's gettin' +nigh on June now an' no sign o' the weather losin' temper. Well, +well! Wonders won't never cease it's true, but I'd as soon a' +thought o' my old 'ooman dancin' a 'ornpipe among her cream cheeses +as that Passon Walden would a' let Miss Vancourt inside this 'ere +gate so easy like, an' he a bacheldor. But there!--arter all, he's +gettin' on in years, an' she's ever so much younger than he is, an' +I dessay he's made up his mind to treat 'er kind like, as 'twere her +father, which he should do, bein' spiritooal 'ead o' the village, +an' as for the pretty face of 'er, he's not the man to look at it +more'n once, an' then he couldn't tell you wot it's like. He favours +his water-lilies mor'n females,--ah, an' I bet he'd give ten pound +for a new specimen of a flower when he wouldn't lay out a 'apenny on +a new specimen of a woman." Here, pausing in his reflections, he +again looked cautiously round from his high vantage point of view on +the ladder, and saw Walden break off a spray of white lilac from one +bush of a very special kind near the edge of the lawn, and give it +to Miss Vancourt. "Well, now that do beat me altogether!" he +ejaculated under his breath. "If he's told me once, he's told me a +'undred times that he won't 'ave no blossoms broke off that bush on +no account An' there he is a-pickin' of it hisself! That's a kind of +thing which do make me feel that men is a poor feeble-minded lot,-- +it do reely now!" + +But feeble-minded or not, John had nevertheless gathered the choice +flower, and moreover, had found a certain pleasure in giving it to +his fair companion, who inhaled its delicious odour with an +appreciative smile. + +"What a dear old house you have!" she said, glancing up at the +crossed timbers, projecting gables, and quaint dormer windows set +like eyes in the roof--"I had no idea that it was so pretty! And the +garden is perfectly lovely. It is so very artistic!--it looks like a +woman's dream of a garden rather than a man's." + +John smiled. + +"You think women more artistic than men?" he queried. + +"In the decorative line--yes," she replied--"Especially where +flowers are concerned. If one leaves the planning of a garden +entirely to a man, he is sure to make it too stiff and +mathematical,--he will not allow Nature to have her own way in the +least little bit,--in fact"--and she laughed--"I don't think men as +a rule like to let anything or anybody have their own way except +themselves!" + +The smile still lingered kindly round the corners of Walden's mouth. + +"Possibly you may be right,"--he said--"I almost believe you are. +Men are selfish,--much more selfish than women. Nature made them so +in the first instance,--and our methods of education and training +all tend to intensify our natural bent. But"--here he paused and +looked at her thoughtfully; "I am not sure that absolute +unselfishness would be a wise or strong trait in the character of a +man. You see the first thing he has to do in this world is to earn +the right to live,--and if he were always backing politely out of +everybody else's way, and allowing himself to be hustled to one side +in an unselfish desire to let others get to the front, he would +scarcely be able to hold his own in any profession. And all those +dependent upon his efforts would also suffer,--so that his +'unselfishness' might become the very worst kind of selfishness in +the end--don't you think so?" "Well--yes--perhaps in that way it +might!" hesitated Maryllia, with a faint blush--"I ought not to +judge anyone I know--but--oh dear!--the men one meets in town--the +society men with their insufferable airs of conceit and +condescension,--their dullness of intellect,--their preference for +cigars, whiskey, and Bridge to anything else under the sun,--their +intensely absorbed love of personal ease, and their perfectly absurd +confidence in their own supreme wisdom!--these are the hybrid +creatures that make one doubt the worth of the rest of their sex +altogether." + +"But there are hybrid creatures on both sides,"--said Walden +quietly--"Just as there are the men you speak of, so there are women +of the same useless and insufferable character. Is it not so?" + +She looked up at him and laughed. + +"Why, yes, of course!" she frankly admitted--"I guess I won't argue +with you on the six of one and half-dozen of the other! But it's +just as natural for women to criticise men as for men to criticise +nowadays. Long ago, in the lovely 'once upon a time' fairy period, +the habit of criticism doesn't appear to have developed strongly in +either sex. The men were chivalrous and tender,--the women adoring +and devoted--I think it must have been perfectly charming to have +lived then! It is all so different now!" + +"Fortunately, it is," said John, with a mirthful sparkle in his +eyes--"I am sure you would not have liked that 'once upon a time +fairy period' as you call it, at all, Miss Vancourt! Poets and +romancists may tell us that the men were 'chivalrous and tender,' +but plain fact convinces us that they were very rough unwashen +tyrants who used to shut up their ladies in gloomy castles where +very little light and air could penetrate,--and the adoring and +devoted ladies, in their turn, made very short work of the whole +business by either dying of their own grief and ill-treatment, or +else getting killed in cold blood by order of their lords and +masters. Why, one of the finest proofs of an improvement in our +civilisation is the freedom of thought and action given to women in +the present day. Personally speaking, I admit to a great fondness +for old-fashioned ways, and particularly for old-fashioned manners,- +-but I cannot shut my mind to the fact that for centuries women have +been unfairly hindered by men in every possible way from all chance +of developing the great powers of intelligence they possess,--and it +is certainly time the opposition to their advancement should cease. +Of course, being a man myself,"--and he smiled--"I daresay that in +my heart of hearts I like the type of woman I first learned to know +and love best,--my mother. She had the early Victorian, ways,--they +were very simple, but also very sweet." + +He broke off, and for a moment or two they paced the lawn in +silence. + +"I suppose you live all alone here?" asked Maryllia, suddenly. + +"Yes. Quite alone." + +"And are you happy?" + +"I am content." + +"I understand!" and she looked at him somewhat earnestly:--"'Happy' +is a word that should seldom be used I think. It is only at the +rarest possible moments that one can feel real true happiness." + +"You are too young to say that,"--he rejoined gently--"All your life +is before you. The greater part of mine lies behind me." Again she +glanced at him somewhat timidly. + +"Mr. Walden"--she began--"I'm afraid--I suppose--I daresay you +think---" + +John caught the appealing flash of the blue eyes, and wondering what +she was going to say. She played with the spray of lilac he had +given her, and for a moment seemed to have lost her self-possession. + +"I am quite sure,"--she went on, hurriedly--"that you--I mean, I'm +afraid you haven't a very good opinion of me because I don't go to +church---" + +He looked at her, smiling a little. + +"Dor't you go to church?" he asked--"I didn't know it!" + +Here was a surprise for the lady of the Manor. The clergyman of her +own parish,--a man, who by all accepted rule and precedent ought to +have been after her at once, asking for subscriptions to this fund +and that fund, toadying her for her position, and begging for her +name and support, had not even noticed her absence from divine +service on Sundays! She did not know whether to be relieved or +dissatisfied. Such indifference to her actions piqued her feminine +pride, and yet, his tone was very kind and courteous. Noting the +colour coming and going on her face, he spoke again--- + +"I never interfere personally with my parishioners, Miss Vancourt"-- +he said--"To attend church or stay away from church is a matter of +conscience with each individual, and must be left to individual +choice. I should be the last person in the world to entertain a bad +opinion of anyone simply because he or she never went to church. +That would be foolish indeed! Some of the noblest and best men in +Christendom to-day never go to church,--but they are none the less +noble and good! They have their reasons of conscience for non- +committing themselves to accepted forms of faith, and it often turns +out that they are more truly Christian and more purely religious +than the most constant church-goer that ever lived." + +Maryllia gave a little sigh of sudden relief. + +"Ah, you are a broad-minded Churchman!" she said. "I am glad! Very +glad! Because you have no doubt followed the trend of modern +thought,--and you must have read all the discussions in the +magazines and in the books that are written on such subjects,--and +you can understand how difficult it is to a person like myself to +decide what is right when so many of the wisest and most educated +men agree to differ." + +Walden stopped abruptly in his walk. + +"Please do not mistake me, Miss Vancourt," he said gravely, and with +emphasis--"I should be sorry if you gathered a wrong opinion of me +at the outset of our acquaintance. As your minister I feel that I +ought to make my position clear to you. You say that I have probably +followed the trend of modern thought--and I presume that you mean +the trend of modern thought in religious matters. Now I have not +'followed' it, but I have patiently studied it, and find it in all +respects deplorable and disastrous. At the same time I would not +force the high truths of religion on any person, nor would I step +out of my way to ask anyone to attend church if he or she did not +feel inclined to do so. And why? Because I fully admit the laxity +and coldness of the Church in the present day--and I know that there +are many ministers of the Gospel who do not attract so much as they +repel. I am not so self-opinionated as to dream that I, a mere +country parson, can succeed in drawing souls to Christ when so many +men of my order, more gifted than I, have failed, and continue to +fail. But I wish you quite frankly to understand that the trend of +modern thought does not affect the vows I took at my ordination,-- +that I do not preach one thing, and think another,--and that +whatever my faults and shortcomings may be, I most earnestly +endeavour to impress the minds of all those men and women who are +committed to my care with the beauty, truth and saving grace of the +Christian Faith." + +Maryllia was silent. She appeared to be looking at the daisies in +the grass. + +"I hope," he continued quietly, "you will forgive this rather +serious talk of mine. But when you spoke of 'the trend of modern +thought,' it seemed necessary to me to let you know at once and +straightly that I am not with it,--that I do not belong to the +modern school. Professing to be a Christian minister, I try to be +one,--very poorly and unsuccessfully I know,--but still, I try!" + +Maryllia raised her eyes. There was a glisten on her long lashes as +of tears. + +"Please forgive ME!" she said simply--"And thank you for speaking as +you have done! I shall always remember it, and honour you for it. I +hope we shall be friends?" + +She put the words as a query, and half timidly held out her little +ungloved hand. He took it at once and pressed it cordially. + +"Indeed, I am sure we shall!" he said heartily, and the smile that +made his face more than ordinarily handsome lit up his eyes and +showed a depth of sincerity and kindly feeling reflected straight +from his honest soul. A sudden blush swept over Maryllia's cheeks, +and she gently withdrew her hand from his clasp. A silence fell +between them, and when they broke the spell it was by a casual +comment respecting the wealth of apple-blossoms that were making the +trees around them white with their floral snow. + +"St. Rest is a veritable orchard, when the season favours it," said +Walden--"It is one of the best fruit-growing corners in England. At +Abbot's Manor, for instance, the cherry crop is finer than can be +gathered on the same acreage of ground in Kent. Did you know that?" + +Maryllia laughed. + +"No! I know absolutely nothing about my own home, Mr. Walden,--and I +am perfectly aware that I ought to be ashamed of my ignorance. I AM +ashamed of it! I'm going to try and amend the error of my ways as +fast as I can. When Cicely Bourne comes to stay with me, she will +help me. She's ever so much more sensible than I am. She's a +genius." + +"Geniuses do not always get the credit of being sensible, do they?" +queried John, smiling--"Are they not supposed to be creatures of +impulse, dwellers in the air, and wholly irresponsible?" + +"Exactly so,"--she replied--"That is the commonplace opinion +commonplace people entertain of them. Yet the commonplace people owe +everything they enjoy in art, literature and science to the +conceptions of genius, and of genius alone. As for Cicely, she is +the most practical little person possible. She began to earn her +living at the age of eleven, and has 'roughed' it in the world more +severely than many a man. But she keeps her dreams," + +"And those who wish her well will pray that she may always keep +them,"--said Walden--"For to lose one's illusions is to lose the +world." + +"The world itself may be an illusion!" said Maryllia, drawing near +the garden gate and leaning upon it for a moment, as she glanced up +at him with a vague sadness in her eyes,--"We never know. I have +often felt that it is only a pretty little pageant, with a very dark +background behind it!" + +He was silent, looking at her. For the first time he caught himself +noticing her dress. It was of simple pale blue linen, relieved with +white embroidered lawn, and in its cool, fresh, clean appearance was +in keeping with the clear bright day. A plain straw garden hat tied +across the crown and under the chin with a strip of soft blue ribbon +to match the linen gown, was the finish to this 'fashionable' young +woman's toilette,--and though it was infinitely becoming to the fair +skin, azure eyes, and gold-brown hair of its wearer, it did not +suggest undue extravagance, or a Paris 'mode.' And while he yet +almost unconsciously studied the picture she made, resting one arm +lightly across his garden gate, she lifted the latch suddenly and +swung it open. + +"Good-bye!" and she nodded smilingly--"Thank you so much for letting +me see your lovely garden! As soon as Cicely arrives, you must come +and see her--you will, won't you?" + +"I shall be most happy---" he murmured. + +"She will be so interested to hear how you sent her my telegram,"-- +continued Maryllia--"And Gigue too--poor old Gigue!--he is sure to +come over here some time during the summer. He is such a quaint +person! I think you will like him. Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye--for the present!" said John with a slight note of appeal +in his voice, which was not lost wholly upon the air alone, for +Maryllia turned her head back towards him with a laugh. + +"Oh, of course!--only for the present! We are really next-door +neighbours, and I'm afraid we can't escape each other unless we each +play hermit in separate caves! But I promise not to bore you with my +presence very often!" + +She waved the spray of white lilac he had given her in farewell, and +calling her dog to her side, passed down the village road lightly, +like a blue flower drifting with the May breeze, and was soon out of +sight. + +Walden closed the gate after her with careful slowness, and returned +across the lawn to his favourite seat under his favourite apple- +tree. Nebbie followed him, disconsolately snuffing the ground in the +trail of the departed Plato, who doubtless, to the smaller animal's +mind, represented a sort of canine monarch who ruthlessly disdained +the well-meaning attentions of his inferiors. Bainton, having +finished his task of training the vines across the walls of the +rectory, descended his ladder, making as much noise as he could +about it and adding thereto a sudden troublesome cough which would +he considered, probably excite his master's sympathy and instant +attention. But Walden paid no heed. He was apparently busy fumbling +with his watch-chain. Bainton waited a moment, and then, unable any +longer to control his curiosity, seized his ladder and deliberately +carried it across the lawn, though he knew that that was not the +proper way to the tool-shed where it was kept. Halting close to the +seat under the apple-tree, he said:-- + +"Yon red honeysuckle's comin' on fine, Passon,--it be as full o' bud +as a pod o' peas." + +"Ay indeed!" murmured Walden, absently--"That's all right!" + +Bainton paused expectantly. No further word however was vouchsafed +to him, and he knew by experience that such silence implied his +master's wish to be left alone. With an almost magisterial gravity +he surveyed the Reverend John's bent head, and with another +scrutinising glance, ascertained the nature of the occupation on +which his fingers were engaged, whereupon his face expressed the +liveliest amazement. Shouldering his ladder, he went his way,--and +once out of earshot gave vent to a long low whistle. + +"It do beat me!" he said, slapping one corduroy-trousered leg +vehemently--"It do beat me altogether--it do reely now! I ain't no +swearin' sort, an' bad langwidge ain't my failin', but I feel like +takin' a bet, or sayin' a swear when I sees a sensible man like, +makin' a fool of hisself! If Passon ain't gone looney all on a +suddint, blest if I knows wot's come to 'im. 'Tain't Miss Vancourt,- +-'tain't no one nor nothink wot I knows on, but I'm blowed if he +worn't sittin' under that tree, like a great gaby, a' fastenin' a +mis'able threepenny bit to 'is watch-chain! Did anyone ever 'ear the +like! A threepenny bit with a 'ole in it! To think of a man like +that turnin' to the sup'stitions o' maids an' wearin' a oley bit o' +silver! It do make me wild!--it do reely now!" + +And snorting with ineffable disdain, Bainton almost threw his ladder +into the tool-shed, thereby scaring a couple of doves who had found +their way within, and who now flew out with a whirr of white wings +that glistened like pearl in the sunlight as they spread upwards and +away into the sky. + +"A threepenny bit with a 'ole in it!" he repeated, mechanically +watching the birds of peace in their flight--"An' on his watch-chain +too, along wi' the gold cross wot he allus wears there, an' which +folks sez was the last thing wore by 'is dead sister! Somethin's +gone wrong with 'im-somethin' MUST a' gone wrong! Ginerally speakin' +a 'oley bit means a woman in it--but 'tain't that way wi' Passon for +sure--there's a deeper 'ole than the 'ole in the threepenny--a 'ole +wot ain't got no bottom to it, so fur as I can see. I'm just fair +'mazed with that 'ole!--'mazed an' moithered altogether, blest if I +ain't!" + +The Reverend John, meanwhile, seated under his canopy of apple- +blossoms, had succeeded in attaching the ''oley bit' to his chain in +such a manner that it should not come unduly into notice with the +mere action of pulling out his watch. He could not, for the life of +him, have explained, had he been asked, the reason why he had +determined to thus privately wear it on his own person. To himself +he said he 'fancied' it. And why should not parsons have 'fancies' +like other people? Why should they not wear ''oley bits' if they +liked? No objection, either moral, legal or religious could surely +be raised to such a course of procedure! + +And John actually whistled a tune as he slipped back his chain with +its new adornment attached, into his waistcoat pocket, and surveyed +his garden surroundings with a placid smile. His interview with Miss +Vancourt had not been an unpleasant experience by any means. He +liked her better than when he had first seen her on the morning of +their meeting under the boughs of the threatened 'Five Sister' +beeches. He could now, as he thought, gauge her character and +temperament correctly, with all the wonderful perspicuity and not- +to-be-contradicted logic of a man. She was charming,--and she knew +her charm;--she was graceful, and she was aware of her grace;--she +was bright and intelligent in the prettily 'surface' way of women,-- +she evidently possessed a kind heart, and she seemed thoughtful of +other people's feelings,--she had a sweet voice and a delightfully +musical laugh,--and--and--that was about all. It was not much, +strictly speaking;--yet he found himself considerably interested in +weighing the pros and cons of her nature, and wondering how she had +managed to retain, in the worldly and social surroundings to which +she had been so long accustomed, the child-like impulsiveness of her +manner, and the simple frankness of her speech. + +"Of course it may be all put on,"--he reflected, though with a touch +of shamed compunction at the bare suggestion--"One can never tell! +It seemed natural. And it would hardly be worth her while to act a +part for the benefit of an old fogey like myself. I think she is +genuine. I hope so! At any rate I will believe she is, till she +proves herself otherwise. Of course 'the trend of modern thought' +has touched her. The cruellest among the countless cruel deeds of +latter-day theism is to murder the Christ in women. For, as woman's +purity first brought the Divine Master into the world, so must +woman's purity still keep Him here with us,--else we men are lost-- +lost through the sins, not only of our fathers, but chiefly of our +mothers!" + +That same evening Maryllia received a prompt reply to one of the +telegrams which Walden had sent off for her in the morning. It was +brief and to the point, and only ran:--'Coming. Cicely';--a message +which Mrs. Tapple had no difficulty in deciphering, and which she +sent up to the Manor, post haste, as soon as it arrived. The +telegraph-boy who conveyed it, got sixpence for himself as a reward +for the extra speed he had put on in running all the way from the +village to the house, thereby outstripping the postman, who being +rotund in figure was somewhat heavily labouring up in the same +direction with the last delivery of letters for the day. Miss +Vancourt's correspondents were generally very numerous,--but on this +occasion there was only one letter for her,--one, neatly addressed, +with a small finely engraved crest on the flap of the envelope. +Maryllia surveyed that envelope and crest with disfavour,--she had +seen too many of the same kind. The smile that brightened her face +when she read Cicely's telegram, faded altogether into an expression +of cold weariness as with a small silver paper-knife she slowly slit +the closed edges of the unwelcome missive and glanced indifferently +at its contents. It ran as follows: + +"MY DEAR MISS MARYLLIA,--I feel sure you do not realise the great +pain you are inflicting on your aunt, as well as on myself, by +declining to answer our letters except by telegram. Pray remember +that we are quite in the dark as to the state of your health, your +surroundings and your general well-being. Your sudden departure from +town, was, if you will permit me to say so, a most unwise impulse, +causing as it has done, the greatest perplexity in your own social +circle and among your hosts of friends. I have done my best to +smooth matters over, by assuring all enquirers that certain matters +on your country estate required your personal supervision, but +rumour, as you know, has many tongues which are not likely to be +easily silenced. Your aunt was much surprised and disturbed to +receive from you a box of peacock's feathers, without any word from +yourself. She has no doubt you meant the gift kindly, but was not +the manner of giving somewhat strange?--let me say eccentric? I hope +you will allow me to point out to you that nothing is more fatal to +a woman in good society than to attain any sort of reputation for +eccentricity. I may take the liberty of saying this to you as an old +friend, and as one who still holds persistently to the dear +expectation, despite much discouragement, of being able soon to call +you by a closer name than mere friendship allows. The disagreement +between your aunt and yourself should surely be a matter of slight +duration, and not sufficient in any case to warrant your rash +decision to altogether resign the protection and kindly guardianship +which she, on her part, has exercised over you for so many years. I +cannot too strongly impress upon your mind the fatal effect any long +absence from her is likely to have on your position in society, and +though as yet you have only been about three weeks away, people are +talking and will no doubt continue to talk. If you find your old +home an agreeable change from town life, pray allow your aunt to +join you there. She will do so, I am sure, with pleasure. She misses +you very greatly, and I will never believe that you would wilfully +cause her needless trouble. I may not, I know, express my own +feelings on the subject, as I should probably only incur your scorn +or displeasure, but simply as an honest man who wishes you nothing +but good, I ask you quietly to consider to what misrepresentation +and calumny you voluntarily expose yourself by running away, as it +were, from a rightful and affectionate protector and second mother +like your good aunt, and living all alone in the country without any +one of your immediate circle of friends within calling distance. Is +there a more compromising or more ludicrous position than that of +the independent and defenceless female? I think not! She is the +laughing-stock of the clubs, and the perennial joke of the comic +press. Pray do not place yourself in the same category with the +despised and unlovely of your sex, but remain on the height where +Nature placed you, and where your charm and intelligence can best +secure acknowledgment from the less gifted and fortunate. Entreating +your pardon for any word or phrase in this letter which may +unluckily chance to annoy you, I am. my dear Miss Maryllia,--Yours +with the utmost devotion," + "ROXMOUTH." + + "What a humbug he is!" said Maryllia, half aloud, as she nut the +letter back in its envelope and set it aside--"What a soft, smooth, +civil, correctly trained humbug! How completely he ignores the +possibility of my having any intelligence, even while he asks me to +remain 'on the height' where it can best secure acknowledgment! He +never appears to realise that my intelligence may be of such a +quality as to enable me to see through him pretty clearly! And so +the 'independent and defenceless female' is the laughing-stock of +the clubs, is she? Well, I daresay he is quite right there! There's +nothing braver for men to do at their clubs than to laugh at the +'defenceless' women who would rather fight the world alone and earn +their own livelihood, than enter into loveless marriages! The +quaintest part of the letter is the bit about Aunt Emily. Roxmouth +must really think me a perfect idiot if he dreams that I would +accept such a story as that she was 'surprised and disturbed' at +receiving the box of peacock's feathers. Aunt Emily was never +'surprised' or 'disturbed' at anything in her life, I am sure! When +poor Uncle Fred died, she pressed her handkerchief to her eyes for +five minutes, and then sat down at her desk to write her orders for +mourning. And when I spoke my mind to her about Roxmouth, she only +smiled and told me not to excite myself. Then when I said I had +determined to leave her altogether and go back to my own home to +live, she took it quite easily, and merely stated she would have to +alter her will. I assured her I hoped she would do so at once, as I +had no wish to benefit by her death. Then she didn't speak to me for +several days, and I came away quietly without bidding her good-bye. +And here I am,--and here I mean to stay!" + +She laughed a little, and moving to the open window, looked out on +the quiet beauty of the landscape. "Yes!--I too will become a +laughing-stock of the clubs;--and even I may attain the distinction +of being accepted as a 'joke by the comie press'! I will be an +'independent and defenceless female,' and see how I get on! In any +case I'd rather be defenceless than have Roxmouth as a defender. And +I shall not be alone here, now that Cicely is coming. Besides, I +have two men friends in the village,--at least, I think I have! I'm +sure of one,--old Josey Letherbarrow!" The smile lingered on her +lips, as she still looked out on the lawn and terrace, shadowed by +the evening dusk, and sweet with the cool perfume of the rising dew. +"And the other,--if he should turn out as agreeable as he seemed +this morning,--why, he is a tower of strength so far as +respectability is concerned! What better protection can an +'independent and defenceless female' have than the minister of the +parish? I can go to him for a character, ask him for a reference, +throw myself and my troubles upon him as upon a rock, and make him +answer for me as an honest and well-intentioned parishioner! And I +believe he would 'speak up' for me, as the poor folks say,--yes, my +Lord Roxmouth!--I believe he would,--and if he did, I'm certain he +would speak straight, and not whisper a few small poisonous lies +round the corner! For I think"--and here the train of her +reflections wandered away from her aunt and her lordly wooer +altogether, "yes,--I think Mr. Walden is a good man! I was not quite +sure about him when I first met him,--I thought his eyes seemed +deceitful,--so many parsons' eyes are!--but I looked well into them +to-day,--and they're not the usual eyes of a parson at all,--they're +just the eyes of a British sailor who has watched rough seas all his +life,--and such eyes are always true!" + + + + +XV + + +On the following Monday afternoon Cicely Bourne, to whom Walden had +so successfully telegraphed Maryllia's commands, arrived. She was +rather an odd-looking young person. Her long thin legs were much too +long for the shortness of her black cashmere frock, which was made +'en demoiselle,' after the fashion adhered to in French convents, +where girls are compelled to look as ugly as possible, in order that +they may eschew the sin of personal vanity,--her hair, of a rich +raven black, was plaited in a stiff thick braid resembling a Chinese +pigtail, and was fastened at the end with a bow of ribbon,--and a +pair of wonderfully brilliant dark eyes flashed under her arching +brows, suggesting something weird and witchlike in their roving +glances, and giving an almost uncanny expression to her small, +sallow face. But she was full of the most exuberant vitality,--she +sparkled all over with it and seemed to exhale it in the mere act of +breathing. Brimful of delight at the prospect of spending the whole +summer with her friend and patroness, to whom she owed everything, +and whom she adored with passionate admiration and gratitude, she +dashed into the old-world silence and solitude of Abbot's Manor like +a wild wave of the sea, crested with sunshine and bubbling over with +ripples of mirth. Her incessant chatter and laughter awoke the long- +hushed echoes of the ancient house to responsive gaiety,--and every +pale lingering shadow of dullness or loneliness fled away from the +exhilarating effect of her presence, which acted at once as a +stimulant and charm to Maryllia, who welcomed her arrival with +affectionate enthusiasm. + +"But oh, my dear!" she exclaimed--"What a little school-guy they +have made of you! You must have grown taller, surely, since November +when I saw you last? Your frock is ever so much too short!" + +"I don't think I've grown a bit,"--said Cicely, glancing down at her +own legs disparagingly--"But my frock wore shabby at the bottom, and +the nuns had a fresh hem turned up all round. That reduced its +length by a couple of inches at least. I told them as modestly as I +could that my ankles were too vastily exposed, but they said it +didn't matter, as I was only a day-boarder." + +Maryllia's eyebrows went up perplexedly. + +"I don't see what that has to do with it,"--she said--"Would you +have preferred to live in the Convent altogether, dear?" + +"Grand merci!" and Cicely made an expressive grimace--"Not I! I +should not have had half as many lessons from Gigue, and I should +never have been able to write to you without the Mere Superieure +spying into my letters. That's why none of the girls are allowed to +have sealing wax, because all their letters are ungummed over a +basin of hot water and read before going to post. Discipline, +discipline! Torquemada's Inquisition was nothing to it! Of course I +had to tell the Mere Superieure that you had sent for me, and that I +should be away all summer. She asked heaps of questions, but she got +nothing out of me, so of course she wrote to your aunt. But that +doesn't matter, does it?" + +"Not in the least,"--answered Maryllia, decisively,--"My aunt has +nothing whatever to do with me now, nor I with her. I am my own +mistress." + +"And it becomes you amazingly!" declared Cicely--"I never saw you +looking prettier! You are just the sweetest thing that ever fell out +of heaven in human shape! Oh, Maryllia, what a lovely, lovely place +this is! And is it all yours?--your very, very own?" + +"My very, very own!" and Maryllia, in replying to the question, felt +a thrill of legitimate pride in the beautiful old Tudor house of her +ancestors,--"I wish I had never been taken away from it! The more I +see of it, the more I feel I ought not to have left it so long." + +"It is real home, sweet home!" said Cicely, and her great eyes grew +suddenly sad and wistful, as she slipped a caressing arm round her +friend's waist--"How grateful I am to you for asking me to come and +stay in it! Because, after all, I am only a poor little peasant,-- +with a musical faculty!" + +Maryllia kissed her affectionately. + +"You are a genius, my dear!" she said--"There's is no higher +supremacy. What does Gigue say of you now?" + +"Gigue is satisfied, I think. But I don't really know. He says I'm +too precocious--that my voice is a woman's before I'm a girl. It's +abnormal--and I'm abnormal too. I know I am,--and I know it's +horrid--but I can't help it! Whers'a the piano?" + +"There isn't one in the house," said Maryllia, smiling; "Abbot's +Manor has always lived about a hundred and fifty years behind the +times. But I've sent for a boudoir grand--it will be here this week. +Meanwhile, won't this do?" and she pointed to a quaint little +instrument occupying a recess near the window--"It's a spinet of +Charles the Second's period---" + +"Delightful!" cried Cicely, ecstatically--"There's nothing sweeter +in the whole world to sing to!" + +Opening the painted lid with the greatest tenderness and care, she +passed her hands lightly over the spinet's worn and yellow ivory +keys and evoked a faint fairy-like tinkling. + +"Listen! Isn't it like the wandering voice of some little ghost of +the past trying to speak to us?" she said--"And in such sweet tune, +too! Poor little ghost! Shall I sing to you? Shall I tell you that +we have a sympathy in common with you, even though you are so old +and so far, far away!" + +Her lips parted, and a pure note, crystal clear, and of such silvery +softness as to seem more supernatural than human, floated upward on +the silence. Maryllia caught her breath, and listened with a quickly +beating heart,--she knew that the voice of this child whom she had +rescued from a life of misery, was a world's marvel. + + "Le douce printemps fait naitre,-- + Autant d'amours que de fleurs; + Tremblez, tremblez, jeunes coeurs! + Des qu'il commence a paraitre + Il faut cesser les froideurs." + +Here with a sudden brilliant roulade the singer ran up the scale to +the C in alt, and there paused with a trill as delicious and full as +the warble of a nightingale. + + "Mais ce qu'il a de douceurs + Vous coutera cher peut-etre! + Tremblez, tremblez jeunes coeurs, + Le douce printemps fait naitre, + Autant d'amours que de fleurs!" + +She ceased. The air, broken into delicate vibrations, carried the +lovely sounds rhythmically outward, onward and into unechoing +distance. + +She turned and looked at Maryllia--then smiled. + +"I see you are pleased,"--she said. + +"Pleased! Cicely, I don't believe anyone was ever born into the +world to sing as you sing!" + +Cicely looked quaintly meditative. + +"Well, I don't know about that! You see there have been several +millions of folks born into the world, and there may have been just +one naturally created singer among them!" She laughed, and touched a +chord on the spinet. "The old French song exactly suits this old +French instrument. I see it is an ancient thing of Paris. Gigue says +I have improved--but he will never admit much, as you know. He has +forbidden me to touch the C in alt, and I did it just now. I cannot +help it sometimes--it comes so easy. But you must scold me, Maryllia +darling, when you hear me taking it,--I don't want to strain the +vocal cords, and I always forget I'm only fourteen; I feel--oh! ever +so much older!--ages old, in fact!" She sighed, and stretched her +arms up above her head. "What a perfect room this is to sing in! +What a perfect house!--and what a perfect angel you are to have me +with you!" + +Her eyes filled with sudden tears of emotion, but she quickly +blinked them away. + +"Et ce cher Roxmouth?" she queried, suddenly, glancing +appreciatively at the rippling gold-brown lights and shades of her +friend's hair, the delicate hues of her complexion, and the grace of +her form--"Has he been to see you in this idyllic retreat?" + +Maryllia gave a slight gesture of wearied impatience. + +"Certainly not! How can you ask such a question, Cicely! I left my +aunt on purpose to get rid of him once and for all. And he knows +it;--yet he has written to me every two days regularly since I came +here!" + +"Helas!--ce cher Roxmouth!" murmured Cicely, with a languid gesture +imitative of the 'society manner' of Mrs. Fred Vancourt,--"Parfait +gentilhomme au bout des ongles!" + +Maryllia laughed. + +"Yes,--Aunt Emily all over!" she said--"How tired I am of that +phrase! She knows as well as anybody that Roxmouth, for all his airs +of aristocratic propriety, is a social villain of the lowest type of +modern decadence, yet she would rather see me married to him than to +any other man she has ever met. And why? Simply because he will be a +Duke! She would like to say to all her acquaintances--'My niece is a +Duchess.' She would feel a certain fantastic satisfaction in +thinking that her millions were being used to build up the decayed +fortunes of an English nobleman's family, as well as to 'restore' +Roxmouth Castle, which is in a bad state of repair. And she would +sacrifice my heart and soul and life to such trumpery ambitions as +these!" + +"Trumpery ambitions!" echoed Cicely--"My dear, they are ambitions +for which nearly all women are willing to scramble, fight and die! +To be a Duchess! To dwell in an ancient 'restored' castle of once +proud English nobles! Saint Moses! Who wouldn't sacrifice such vague +matters as heart, life and soul for the glory of being called 'Your +Grace' by obsequious footmen! My unconventional Maryllia! You are +setting yourself in rank, heretical opposition to the +conventionalities of society, and won't all the little conventional +minds hate you for it!" + +"It doesn't matter if they do,"--rejoined Maryllia--"I have never +been loved since my father's death,--so I don't mind being hated." + +"_I_ love you!" said Cicely, with swift ardour--"Don't say you have +never been loved!" + +Maryllia caught her hand tenderly and kissed it. + +"I was not thinking of you, dear!" she said--"Forgive me! I was +thinking of men. They have admired me and flirted with me,--many of +them have wanted to marry me, in order to get hold of Aunt Emily's +fortune with me,--but none of them have ever loved me. Cicely, +Cicely, I want to be loved!" + +"So do I!" said Cicely, with answering light in her eyes--"But I +don't see how it's going to be done in my case! You may possibly get +your wish, but I!--why, my dear, I see myself in futur-oe as a +'prima donna assoluta' perhaps, with several painted and padded +bassi and tenori making sham love to me in opera till I get +perfectly sick of cuore and amore, and cry out for something else by +way of a change! I am quite positive that love,--love such as we +read of in poetry and romance, doesn't really exist! And I have +another fixed opinion--which is, that the people who write most +about it have never felt it. One always expresses best, even in a +song, the emotions one has never experienced." + +Maryllia looked at her in a little wonder. + +"Do you really think that?" + +"I do! It's not one of Gigue's sayings, though I know I often echo +Gigue!" + +She went to the window. "How lovely the garden is! Come out on the +lawn, Maryllia, and let us talk!" And as they sauntered across the +grass together with arms round each other's waists, she chattered +on--"People who write books and music are generally lonely,--and +they write best about love because they need it. They fancy it must +be much better than it is. But, after all, the grandest things go +unloved. Look at the sky, how clear it is and pure. Is it loved by +any other sky that we know of? And the sun up there, all alone in +its splendour,--I wonder if any other sun loves it? There are so +many lonely things in the universe! And it seems to me that the +loneliest are always the loveliest and grandest. It is only stupid +ephemera that are gregarious. Worms crawl along in masses,--mites +swarm in a cheese--flies stick in crowds on jam--and brainless +people shut themselves up all together within the walls of a city. +I'd rather be an eagle than a sparrow,--a star than one of a +thousand bonfire sparks,--and as a mere woman, I would rather ten +thousand times live a solitary life by myself till I die, than be +married to a rascal or a fool!" + +"Exactly my sentiments,"--said Maryllia--"Only you put them more +poetically than I can. Do you know, Cicely, you talk very oddly +sometimes?--very much in advance of your age, I mean?" + +"Do I?" And Cicely's tone expressed a mingling of surprise and +penitence--"I didn't know it. But I suppose I really can't help it, +Maryllia! I was a very miserable child--and miserable children age +rapidly. Perhaps I shall get younger as I grow older! You must +remember that at eleven years old I was scrubbing floors like any +charwoman in the Convent for two centimes an hour. I gained a lot of +worldly wisdom that way by listening to the talk of the nuns, which +is quite as spiteful and scandalous as anything one hears in outside +'wicked' society. Then I got into the Quartier Latin set with Gigue, +who picked me up because he heard me singing in the street,--and +altogether my experiences of life haven't been toys and bonbons. I +know I THINK 'old'--and I'm sure I feel old!" + +"Not when you play or sing," suggested Maryllia. + +"No--not then--never then! Then, all the youth of the world seems to +rush into me,--it tingles in my fingers, and throbs in my throat! I +feel as if I could reach heaven with sound!--yes! I feel that I +could sing to God Himself, if He would only listen!" + +Her eyes glowed with passion,--the plainness of her features was +transformed into momentary beauty. Maryllia was silent. She knew +that the aspirations of genius pent up in this elf-like girl were +almost too strong for her, and that the very excitability and +sensitiveness of her nature were such as to need the greatest care +and tenderness in training and controlling. Tactfully she changed +the conversation to ordinary subjects, and in a little while Cicely +had learned all that Maryllia herself knew about the village of St. +Rest and its inhabitants. She was considerably interested in the +story of the rescue of the 'Five Sister' beeches, and asked with a +touch of anxiety, what had become of the dismissed agent, Oliver +Leach? + +"Oh, he is still in the neighbourhood,"--said Maryllia, +indifferently--"He works for Sir Morton Pippitt, and I believe has +found a home at Badsworth. His accounts are not yet all handed in to +my solicitors. But I have a new agent now,--a Mr. Stanways--he is +just married to quite a nice young woman,--and he has already begun +work. Mr. Stanways has splendid recommendations--so that will be all +right." + +"No doubt--so far as Mr. Stanways himself is concerned it will be +all right,"--rejoined Cicely, musingly--"But if, as you say, the man +Oliver Leach cursed you, it isn't pleasant to think he is hanging +around here." + +"He isn't hanging round anywhere,"--declared Maryllia, easily--"He +is out of this beat altogether. He cursed me certainly,--but he was +in a temper,--and I should say that curses come naturally to him. +But, as the clergyman was present at the time, the curse couldn't +take any effect." She laughed. "You know Satan always runs away from +the Church." + +"Who is the clergyman, and what is he like?" asked Cicely. + +"He's not at all disagreeable"--answered Maryllia, carelessly-- +"Rather stiff perhaps and old-fashioned,--but he seems to be a great +favourite with all his parishioners. His name is John Walden. He has +restored the church here, quite at his own expense, and according to +the early original design. It is really quite wonderful. When I was +a child here, I only remember it as a ruin, but now people come from +far and near to see it. It will please you immensely." + +"But you don't go to it," observed Cicely, suggestively. + +"No. I haven't attended a service there as yet. But I don't say I +never will attend one. That will depend on circumstances." + +"I remember you always hated parsons," said Cicely, thoughtfully. + +Maryllia laughed. + +"Yes, I always did!" + +"And you always will, I suppose?" + +"Well, I expect I shall have to tolerate Mr. Walden,"--Maryllia +answered lightly,--"Because he's really my nearest neighbour. But +he's not so bad as most of his class." + +"I daresay he's a better type of man than Lord Roxmouth," said +Cicely. "By the way, Maryllia, that highly distinguished nobleman +has spread about a report that you are 'peculiar,' simply because +you won't marry him? The very nuns at the Convent have heard this, +and it does make me so angry! For when people get hold of the word +'peculiar,' it is made to mean several things." + +"I know!" and for a moment Maryllia's fair brows clouded with a +shadow of perplexity and annoyance--"It is a word that may pass for +madness, badness, or any form of social undesirability. But I don't +mind! I'm quite aware that Roxmouth, if he cannot marry me, will +slander me. It's a way some modern men have of covering their own +rejection and defeat. The woman in question is branded through the +'smart set' as 'peculiar,' 'difficult,' 'impossible to deal with'-- +oh yes!--I know it all! But I'm prepared for it--and just to +forestall Roxmouth a little, I'm going to have a few people down +here by way of witnesses to my '-peculiar' mode of life. Then they +can go back to London and talk." + +"They can, and they will,--you may be sure of that!" said Cicely, +satirically--"Is this a 'dressed' county, Maryllia?" + +Maryllia gave vent to a peal of laughter. + +"I should say not,--but I really don't know!" she replied,--"People +have called on me, but I have not, as yet, returned their calls. +We'll do that in this coming week. The only person I have seen, who +poses as a 'county' lady, is an elderly spinster named Tabitha +Pippitt, only daughter of Sir Morton Pippitt, who is a colonial +manufacturer, and, therefore, not actually in the 'county' at all. +Miss Tabitha was certainly not 'dressed,' she was merely covered." + +"That's the very height of propriety!" declared Cicely--"For, after +all, covering alone is necessary. 'Dress,' in the full sense of the +word, implies vanity and all its attendant sins. Gigue says you can +always pick out a very dull, respectable woman by the hidecmsness +of her clothes. I expect Miss Tabitha is dull." + +"She is--most unquestionably! But I'm afraid she is only a reflex of +country life generally, Cicely. Country life IS dull,--especially in +England." + +"Then why do you go in for it?" queried Cicely, arching her black +brows perplexedly. + +"Simply to escape something even duller,"--laughed Maryllia--"London +society and its 'Souls'!" + +Cicely laughed too, and shrugged her shoulders expressively. She +understood all that was implied. And with her whole heart she +rejoiced that her friend whom she loved with an almost passionate +adoration and gratitude, had voluntarily turned her back on the +'Smart Set,' and so, of her own accord, instead of through her +godfathers and godmothers, had 'renounced the devil and all his +works, the pomps and vanity of this wicked world and all the sinful +lusts of the flesh.' + +Within a very few days St. Rest became aware of Cicely's quaint +personality, for she soon succeeded in making herself familiar with +everybody in the place. She had a knack of winning friends. She +visited old Josey Letherbarrow, and made him laugh till he nearly +choked, so that Maryllia had to pat him vigorously on the back to +enable him to recover his breath--she cut jokes with Mrs. Tapple,-- +chatted with the sexton, Adam Frost, and scattered 'sweeties' galore +among all his children,--and she furthermore startled the village +choir at practice by suddenly flitting into the church and asking +Miss Eden, the schoolmistress, to allow her to play the organ +accompaniment, and on Miss Eden's consenting to this proposition, +she played in such a fashion that the church seemed filled with +musical thunder and the songs of angels,--and the village +choristers, both girls and boys, became awestruck and nervous, and +huddled themselves together in a silent group, afraid to open their +mouths lest a false note should escape, and spoil the splendour of +the wonderful harmony that so mysteriously charmed their souls. And +then, calming the passion of the music down, she turned with +gentlest courtesy to Miss Eden, and asked: 'What were the children +going to sing?'--whereupon, being told that it waft a hymn called +'The Lord is my Shepherd,' she so very sweetly entreated them to +sing it with her, that none of them could refuse. And she led them +all with wondrous care and patience, giving to the very simple tune, +a tender and noble pathos such as they had never heard before, yet +which they unconsciously absorbed into their own singing, as they +lifted up their youthful voices in tremulous unison. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want, + He maketh me down to lie, + In pleasant fields where the lilies grow. + And the river runneth by. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; He feedeth me + In the depth of a desert land, + And lest I should in the darkness slip, + He holdeth me by the hand. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want, + My mind on Him is stayed, + And though through the Valley of Death I walk, + I shall not be afraid. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; O Shepherd sweet, + Leave me not here to stray; + But guide me safe to Thy heavenly fold, + And keep me there, I pray!" + +John Walden, passing through the churchyard just at this time, heard +the rhythmic rise and fall of the quaint old melody with a strange +thrill at his heart. He had listened to the self-same hymn over and +over again,--every year the school-children re-studied and re-sang +it,--but there was something altogether new in its harmony this +time,--something appealing and pathetic which struck to the inmost +core of his sensitive nature. Noiselessly, he entered the church, +and for a moment or two stood unobserved, watching the little scene +before him. Cicely was at the organ, and her hands still rested on +the keys, but she was speaking to the members of the choir. + +"That is very nicely done,"--she said, encouragingly--"But you must +try and keep more steadily together in tune, must they not, Miss +Eden?"--and she turned to the schoolmistress at her side, who, with +a smile, agreed. "You"--and she touched pretty Susie Prescott on the +arm,--"You sing delightfully! It is a little voice--but so very +sweet!" + +Susie blushed deeply and curtsied. It had got about in the village +that Miss Vancourt's young friend from Paris was a musical +'prodigy,' and praise from her was something to be remembered. + +"Now listen!" went on Cicely--"I'm not going to sing full voice, +because I'm not allowed to yet,--but this is how that hymn should +go!" And her pure tones floated forth pianissimo, with slow and +tender solemnity:-- + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; O Shepherd sweet, + Leave me not here to stray; + But guide me safe to Thy heavenly fold, + And keep me there, I pray! + Amen!" + +Silence followed. The children stood wonder-struck, and Miss Eden's +eyes filled with emotional tears. + +"How beautiful!" she murmured--"How very beautiful!" + +Cicely rose from the organ-stool, and turned round. + +"Here is Mr. Walden," she said, in quite a matter-of-fact way as she +perceived him. "It IS Mr. Walden, isn't it?" + +"Yes, it is," replied John, advancing with a smile--"And very +fortunate Mr. Walden is to have heard such lovely singing!" + +"Oh, that's not lovely," said Cicely, carelessly--"I was only +humming the last verse, just to put the expression right. I thought +it must be you!--though, of course, as I have not been introduced to +you, I couldn't be sure! Maryllia--Miss Vancourt--has told me all +about you,--and I know she has written twice since I've been here to +ask you up to the Manor--once to tea, and once to dinner. Why +haven't you come?" Walden was slightly embarrassed by this point- +blank question. It was perfectly true he had received two +invitations from the lady of the Manor, and had refused both. Why he +had refused, he could not himself have told. + +"I suppose you didn't want to meet me!" said Cicely, showing all her +white teeth in a flashing smile--"But there's no escape for it, you +see,--here I am! I'm not such a rascal as I look, though! I've been +playing accompaniments for the children!--go on singing, please!"-- +and she addressed Miss Eden and Susie Prescott, who collecting their +straying thoughts, began hesitatingly to resume the interrupted +practice--"It's a nice little organ--very full and sweet. The church +is perfectly exquisite! I come in every day to look at it except +Sundays." + +"Why except Sundays?" asked Walden, amused. + +She gave him a quaint side-glance. + +"I'll tell you some day,--not now!"--she answered--"This is not the +fitting time or place." She moved to the altar rails, and hung over +them, looking at the alabaster sarcophagus "This thing has a +perfect fascination for me!" she went on--"I can't bear not to know +whose bones are inside! I wonder you haven't opened it." + +"It was not meant to be opened by those who closed it," said Walden, +quietly. + +Cicely drooped her gipsy-bright eyes. + +"That's one for me!" she thought--"He's just like what Maryllia says +he is,--very certain of his own mind, and not likely to move out of +his own way." + +"I think," pursued Walden--"if you knew that someone very dear to +you had been laid in that sarcophagus 'to eternal rest,' you would +resent any disturbance of even the mere dust of what was once life,- +-would you not?" + +"I might;" said Cicely dubiously--"But I have never had any 'someone +very dear to me' except Maryllia Vancourt. And if she died, I should +die too!" + +John was silent, but he looked at her with increased interest and +kindliness. + +They walked out of the church together, and once in the open air, he +became politely conventional. + +"And how is Miss Vancourt?" he enquired. + +"She is very well indeed,"--replied Cicely--"But tremendously busy +just now with no end of household matters. The new agent, Mr. +Stanways, is going over every yard of the Abbot's Manor property +with her, and she is making any quantity of new rules. All the +tenants' rents are to be reduced, for one thing--I know THAT. Then +there are a lot of London people coming down to stay--big house- +parties in relays,--I've helped write all the invitations. We shall +be simply crowded at the end of June and all July. We mean to be +very gay!" + +"And you will like that, of course?" queried Walden, indulgently, +while conscious of a little sense of hurt and annoyance, though he +knew not why. + +"Naturally!" and Cicely shrugged her shoulders carelessly, "Doesn't +the Bible say 'the laughter of fools is like the crackling of thorns +under a pot'? I love to set the pot down and hear the thorns +crackle!" + +What a weird girl she was! He looked at her in mute amaze, and she +smiled. + +"Do come up to tea some afternoon!" she said coaxingly, "We should +be so glad to see you! I know Maryllia would like it--she thinks you +are rather rude, you know! I'm to be here all the summer, but I'll +try to be good and not say things to vex you. And as you're a +clergyman, I can tell you all about myself--like the confessional +secrets! And when you hear some of my experiences, you won't wonder +a bit at my queer ways. I can't be like other girls of my age,--I +really CAN'T!--my life won't let me!" + +Her tone was one of light banter, but her eyes were wistful and +pathetic. Walden was conscious of a sudden sympathy with this wild +little soul of song, and taking her hand, pressed it kindly. + +"Wait till I see some of your 'queer ways,' as you call them!" he +said, with a genial laugh--"I know you sing very beautifully-is that +a 'queer way'?" + +Cicely shook her mop-like tresses of hair back over her shoulders +with a careless gesture. + +"It is--to people who can't do it!" she said. "Surely you know that? +For example, if you preach very well--I don't know that you do, +because I've never heard you, but Maryllia's housekeeper, Mrs. +Spruce, says you've got 'a mouth of angels'--she does really!" and, +as Walden laughed, she laughed with him--"Well, as I say, if you +preach very well with a mouth of angels, there must be several +parsons round here who haven't got that mouth, and who say of you, +of course metaphorically: 'He hath a devil'! Isn't it so?" + +John hesitated. + +"No doubt opinions differ,"---he began. + +"Oh, of course!--you can get out of it that way, if you like!" she +retorted, gaily--"You won't say uncharitable things of the rest of +your brethren if you can help it, but you know--yes, you must know +that parsons are as jealous of each other and as nasty to each other +as actors, singers, writers, or any other 'professional' persons in +the world. In fact, I believe if you were to set two spiteful +clergymen nagging at each other, they'd beat any two 'leading +ladies' on the operatic stage, for right-down malice and meanness!" + +"The conversation is growing quite personal!" said Walden, a broad +smile lighting up his fine soft eyes--"Shall we finish it at the +Manor when I come up to tea?" + +"But are you really coming?" queried Cicely--"And when?" + +"Suppose I say this afternoon---" he began. Cicely clapped her +hands. + +"Good! I'll scamper home and tell Maryllia! I'll say I have met you, +and that I've been as impudent as I possibly could be to you---" + +"No, don't say that!" laughed Walden--"Say that I have found you to +be a very delightful and original young lady---" + +"I'm not a young lady,"--said Cicely, decisively--"I was born a +peasant on the sea-coast of Cornwall--and I'm glad of it. A 'young +lady' nowadays means a milliner's apprentice or a draper's model. I +am neither. I am just a girl--and hope, if I live, to be a woman. +I'll take my own ideas of a suitable message from you to Maryllia-- +don't YOU bother!" And she nodded sagaciously. "I won't make +ructions, I promise! Come about five!" + +She waved her hand and ran off, leaving Walden in a mood between +perplexity and amusement. She was certainly an 'original,' and he +hardly knew what to make of her. There was something 'uncanny' and +goblin-like in her appearance, and yet her sallow face had a certain +charm when the smile illumined it, and the light of aspiration +burned up in the large wild eyes. In any case, she had persuaded him +in a moment, as it were, and almost involuntarily, to take tea at +the Manor that afternoon. Why he had consented to do what he had +hitherto refused, he could not imagine. Cicely's remark that Miss +Vancourt thought him 'rather rude,' worried him a little. + +"Perhaps I have been rude"--he reflected, uneasily--"But I am not a +society man;--I'm altogether out of my element in the company of +ladies--and it seemed so much better that I should avoid being drawn +into any intimacy with persons who are not likely to have anything +in common with me--but of course I ought to be civil--in fact, I +suppose I ought to be neighbourly---" + +Here a sudden irritation against the nature of his own thoughts +disturbed him. He was not arguing fairly with himself, and he knew +it. He was perfectly aware that ever since the day of their meeting +in the village post-office, he had wished to see Miss Vancourt +again. He had hoped she might pass the gate of the rectory, or +perhaps even look into his garden for a moment,--but his expectation +had not been realised. He had heard of Cicely Bourne's arrival,--and +he had received two charmingly-worded notes from Maryllia, inviting +him to the Manor,--which invitations, as has already been stated, he +had, with briefest courtesy, declined. Now, why,--if he indeed +wished to see her again,--had he deliberately refused the +opportunities given him of doing so? He could not answer this at all +satisfactorily to his own mind, and he was considerably annoyed with +himself to be forced to admit the existence of certain portions of +his mental composition which were apparently not to be probed by +logic, or measured by mathematics. + +"Well, at any rate, as I have promised the little singer, I can go +up to tea just this once, and have done with it," he decided--"I +shall then be exonerated from 'rudeness'--and I can explain to Miss +Vancourt--quite kindly and courteously of course--that I am not a +visiting man,--that my habits are rather those of a recluse, and +then--for the future--she will understand." + +Cicely Bourne, meanwhile, on her way back to the Manor through the +fields, paused many times to gather cowslips, which were blooming by +thousands in the grass at her feet, and as she recklessly pulled up +dozens of the pale-green stems, weighted with their nodding golden +honey-bells, she thought a good deal about John Walden. + +"Maryllia never told me he was handsome,"--she mused; "But he is! I +wonder why she didn't mention it? So odd of her,--because really +there are very few good-looking men anywhere, and one in the shape +of a parson is a positive rarity and ought to go on exhibition! He's +clever too--and--obstinate? Yes, I should say he was obstinate! But +he has kind eyes. And he isn't married. What a comfort THAT is! +Parsons are uninteresting enough in themselves as a rule, but their +wives are the last possibility in the way of dullness. Oh, that +honeysuckle!" And she sprang over the grass to the corner of a hedge +where a long trail of the exquisitely-scented flower hung +temptingly, as it seemed within reach, but when she approached it, +she found it just too high above her to be plucked from the bough +where its tendrils twined. Looking up at it, she carolled softly: + + "O Fortune capricieuse! + Comme tu es cruelle! + Pourquoi moques-tu ton esclave + Qui sert un destin immortel!" + +Here a sudden rustle in the leaves on the other side of the hedge +startled her, and a curious-looking human head adorned profusely +with somewhat disordered locks of red hair perked up enquiringly. +Cicely jumped back with an exclamation. + +"Saint Moses! What is it?" + +"It is me! Merely me!" and Sir Morton Pippitt's quondam guest, Mr. +Julian Adderley, rose to his full lanky height, and turned his +flaccid face of more or less comic melancholy upon her--"Pray do not +be alarmed! I have been reposing under the trees,--and I was, or so +I imagine, in a brief slumber, when some dulcet warblings as of a +nightingale awoke me"--here, stooping to the ground for his hat, he +secured it, and waved it expressively--"and I have, I fear, created +some dismay in the mind of the interesting young person who, if I +mistake not, is a friend of Miss Vancourt?" + +Cicely surveyed him with considerable amusement. + +"Never mind who _I_ am!" she said, coolly--"Tell me who YOU are! My +faith!--you are as rough all over as a bear! What have you been +doing to yourself? Your clothes are covered with leaves!" + +"Even as a Babe in the Wood!" responded Adderley, "Yes!--it is so!" +and he began to pick off delicately the various burs and scraps of +forest debris which had collected and clung to his tweed suit during +his open-air siesta--"To speak truly, I am a trespasser in these +domains,--they are the Manor woods, I know,--forbidden precincts, +and possibly guarded by spring-guns. But I heeded not the board +which speaks of prosecution. I came to gather bluebells,--innocent +bluebells!--merely that and no more, to adorn my humble cot,--I have +a cot not far from here. And as for my identity, my name is +Adderley--Julian Adderley--a poor scribbler of rhymes--a votre +service!" + +He waved his hat with a grand flourish again, and smiled. + +"Oh _I_ know!" said Cicely--"Maryllia has spoken of you--you've +taken a cottage here for the summer. Pick that bit of honeysuckle +for me, will you?--that long trail just hanging over you!" + +"With pleasure!" and he gathered the coveted spray and handed it to +her. + +"Thanks!" and she smiled appreciatively as she took it. "How did you +get into that wood? Did you jump the hedge?" + +"I did!" replied Adderley. + +"Could you jump it again?" + +"Most assuredly!" + +"Then do it!" + +Whereupon Adderley clapped his hat on his head, and resting a hand +firmly on one of the rough posts which supported the close green +barrier between them, vaulted lightly over it and stood beside her. + +"Not badly done,"--said Cicely, eyeing him quizzically--"for 'a poor +scribbler of rhymes' as you call yourself. Most men who moon about +and write verse are too drunken, and vicious to even see a hedge,-- +much less jump over it." + +"Oh, say not so!" exclaimed Adderley--"You are too young to pass +judgment on the gods!" + +"The gods!" exclaimed Cicely--"Whatever are you talking about? The +gods of Greece? They were an awful lot--perfectly awful! They +wouldn't have been admitted EVEN into modern society, and that's bad +enough. I don't think the worst woman that ever dined at a Paris +restaurant with an English Cabinet Minister would have spoken to +Venus, par exemple. I'm sure she wouldn't. She'd have drawn the line +there." + +"Gracious Heavens!" and Adderley stared in wonderment at his +companion, first up, then down,--at her wild hair, now loosened from +its convent form of pigtail, and scarcely restrained by the big sun- +hat which was tied on anyhow,--at her great dark eyes,--at her thin +angular figure and long scraggy legs,--legs which were still +somewhat too visible, though since her arrival at Abbot's Manor +Maryllia had made some thoughtful alterations in the dress of her +musical protegee which had considerably improved her appearance--"Is +it possible to hear such things---" + +"Why, of course it is, as you've got ears and HAVE heard them!" said +Cicely, with a laugh--"Don't ask 'is it possible' to do a thing when +you've done it! That's not logical,--and men do pride themselves on +their logic, though I could never find out why. Do you like +cowslips?" And she thrust the great bunch she had gathered up +against his nose--"There's a wordless poem for you!" + +Inhaling the fresh fine odour of the field blossoms, he still looked +at her in amazement, she meeting his gaze without the least touch of +embarrassment. + +"You can walk home with me, if you like!"--she observed +condescendingly--"I won't promise to ask you into the Manor, because +perhaps Maryllia won't want you, and I daresay she won't approve of +my picking up a young man in the woods. But it's rather fun to talk +to a poet,--I've never met one before. They don't come out in Paris. +They live in holes and corners, drinking absinthe to keep off +hunger." + +"Alas, that is so!" and Adderley began to keep pace with the thin +black-stockinged legs that were already starting off through the +long grass and flowers--"The arts are at a discount nowadays. +Poetry is the last thing people want to read." + +"Then why do you write it?" and Cicely turned a sharp glance of +enquiry upon him--"What's the good?" + +"There you offer me a problem Miss--er--Miss---" + +"Bourne,"--finished Cicely--"Don't fight with my name--it's quite +easy--though I don't know how I got it. I ought to have been a Tre +or a Pol-I was born in Cornwall. Never mind that,--go on with the +'problem.'" + +"True--go on with the problem,"--said Julian vaguely, taking off his +hat and raking his hair with his fingers as he was wont to do when +at all puzzled--"The problem is--'why do I write poetry if nobody +wants to read it'--and 'what's the good'? Now, in the first place, I +will reply that I am not sure I write 'poetry.' I try to express my +identity in rhythm and rhyme--but after all, that expression of +myself may be prose, and wholly without interest to the majority. +You see? I put it to you quite plainly. Then as to 'what's the +good?'--I would argue 'what's the bad?' So far, I live quite +harmlessly. From the unexpected demise of an uncle whom I never saw, +I have a life-income of sixty pounds a year. I am happy on that--I +desire no more than that. On that I seek to evolve myself into +SOMETHING--from a nonentity into shape and substance--and if, as is +quite possible, there can be no 'good,' there may be a certain less +of 'bad' than might otherwise chance to me. What think you?" + +Cicely surveyed him scrutinisingly. + +"I'm not at all sure about that"--she said--"Poets have all been +doubtful specimens of humanity at their best. You see their lives +are entirely occupied in writing what isn't true--and of course it +tells' on them in the long run. They deceive others first, and then +they deceive themselves, though in their fits of 'inspiration' as +they call it, they may, while weaving a thousand lies, accidentally +hit on one truth. But the lies chiefly predominate. Dante, for +example, was a perfectly brazen liar. He DIDN'T go to Hell, or +Purgatory, or Paradise--and he DIDN'T bother himself about Beatrice +at all. He married someone else and had a family. Nothing could be +more commonplace. He invented his Inferno in order to put his +enemies there, all roasting, boiling, baking or freezing. It was +pure personal spite--and it is the very force of his vindictiveness +that makes the Inferno the best part of hid epic. The portraits of +Dante alone are enough to show you the sort of man he was. WHAT a +creature to meet in a dark lane at midnight!" + +Here she made a grimace, drawing her mouth down into the elongated +frown of the famous Florentine, with such an irresistibly comic +effect that Adderley gave way to a peal of hearty, almost boyish +laughter. + +"That's right!" said Cicely approvingly--"That's YOU, you know! It's +natural to laugh at your age--you're only about six or seven-and- +twenty, aren't you?" + +"I shall be twenty-seven in August,"--he said with a swift return to +solemnity--"That is, as you will admit, getting on towards thirty." + +"Oh, nonsense! Everybody's getting on towards thirty, of course--or +towards sixty, or towards a hundred. I shall be fifteen in October, +but 'you will admit'"--here she mimicked his voice and accent--"that +I am getting on towards a hundred. Some folks think I've turned that +already, and that I'm entering my second century, I talk so 'old.' +But my talk is nothing to what I feel--I feel--oh!" and she gave a +kind of angular writhe to her whole figure--"like twenty Methusalehs +in one girl!" + +"You are an original!"--said Julian, nodding at her with an air of +superior wisdom--"That's what you are!" + +"Like you, Sir Moon-Calf"--said Cicely--"The word 'moon-calf,' you +know, stands for poet--it means a human calf that grazes on the +moon. Naturally the animal never gets fat,--nor will you; it always +looks odd--and so will you; it never does anything useful,--nor will +you; and it puts a kind of lunar crust over itself, under which +crust it writes verses. When you break through, its crust you find +something like a man, half-asleep--not knowing whether he's man or +boy, and uncertain, whether to laugh or be serious till some girl +pokes fun at him--and then---" + +"And then?"--laughed Adderley, entering vivaciously into her humour- +-"What next?" + +"This, next!"--and Cicely pelted him full in the face with one of +her velvety cowslip-bunches--'And this,--catch me if you can!" + +Away she flew over the grass, with Adderley after her. Through tall +buttercups and field daisies they raced each other like children,-- +startling astonished bees from repasts in clover-cups--and shaking +butterflies away from their amours on the starwort and celandines. +The private gate leading into Abbot's Manor garden stood open,-- +Cicely rushed in, and shut it against her pursuer who reached it +almost at the same instant. + +"Too bad!" he cried laughingly--"You mustn't keep me out! I'm bound +to come inside!" + +"Why?" demanded Cicely, breathless with her run, but looking all the +better for the colour in her cheeks and the light in her eyes--"I +don't see the line of argument at all. Your hair is simply dreadful! +You look like Pan, heated in the pursuit of a coy nymph of Delphos. +If you only wore skins and a pair of hoofs, the resemblance would be +perfect!" + +"My dear Cicely!" said a dulcet voice at this moment,--"Where HAVE +you been all the morning! How do you do, Mr. Adderley? Won't you +come in?" + +Adderley took off his hat, as Maryllia came across to the gate from +the umbrageous shadow of a knot of pine-trees, looking the +embodiment of fresh daintiness, in a soft white gown trimmed with +wonderfully knotted tufts of palest rose ribbon, and wearing an +enchanting 'poke' straw hat with a careless knot of pink hyacinths +tumbling against her lovely hair. She was a perfect picture 'after +Romney,' and Adderley thought she knew it. But there he was wrong. +Maryllia knew little and cared less about her personal appearance. + +"Where have you been?" she repeated, taking Cicely round the waist-- +"You wild girl! Do you know it is lunch time? I had almost given you +up. Spruce said you had gone into the village--but more than that +she couldn't tell me." + +"I did go to the village,"--said Cicely--"and I went into the +church, and played the organ, and helped the children sing a hymn. +And I met the parson, Mr. Walden, and had a talk with him. Then I +started home across the fields, and found this man"--and she +indicated Adderley with a careless nod of her head--"asleep in a +wood. I almost promised him some lunch--I didn't QUITE---" + +"My dear Miss Vancourt,"--protested Adderley--"Pray do not think of +such a thing!--I would not intrude upon you in this unceremonious +way for the world!" + +"Why not?" said Maryllia, smiling graciously--"It will be a pleasure +if you will stay to luncheon with us. Cicely has carte blanche here +you know--genius must have its way!" + +"Of course it must!"--agreed Cicely--"If genius wants to etand on +its head, it must be allowed to make that exhibition of itself lest +it should explode. If genius asks the lame, halt, blind and idiotic +into the ancestral halls of Abbot's Manor, then the lame, halt, +blind and idiotic are bound to come. If genius summons the god Pan +to pipe a roundelay, pipings there shall be! Shall there not, Mr. +Pan Adderley?" + +Her eyes danced with mirth and mischief, as they flashed from his +face to Maryllia's. "Genius,"--she continued--"can even call forth a +parson from the vasty deep if it chooses to do so,--Mr. Walden is +coming to tea this afternoon." + +"Indeed!" And Maryllia's sweet voice was a trifle cold. "Did you +invite him, Cicely?" + +"Yes. I told him that you thought it rather rude of him not to have +come before---" + +"Oh Cicely!" said Maryllia reproachfully--"You should not have said +that!" + +"Why not? You did think him rude,--and so did I,--to refuse two kind +invitations from you. Anyhow he seemed sorry, and said he'd make up +for it this afternoon. He's really quite good-looking." + +"Quite--quite!" agreed Julian Adderley--"I considered him +exceptionally so when I first saw him in his own church, opposing a +calm front to the intrusive pomposity and appalling ignorance of our +venerable acquaintance, Sir Morton Pippitt. I decided that I had +found a Man. So new!--so fresh! That is why I took a cottage for the +summer close by, that I might be near the rare specimen!" + +Maryllia laughed. + +"Are you not a man yourself?" she said. + +"Not altogether!" he admitted,--"I am but half-grown. I am a raw and +impleasing fruit even to my own palate. John Walden is a ripe and +mellow creature,--moreover, he seems still ripening in constant +sunshine. I go every Sunday to hear him preach, because he reminds +me of so much that I had forgotten." + +Here they went into luncheon. Maryllia threw off her hat as she +seated herself at the head of the table, ruffling her hair with the +action into prettier waves of brown-gold. Her cheeks were softly +flushed,--her blue eyes radiant. + +"You are a better parishioner than I am, Mr. Adderley!"--she said-- +"I have not been to church once since I came home. I never go to +church." + +"Naturally! I quite understand! Few people of any education or +intelligence can stand it nowadays," he replied--"The Christian myth +is well-nigh exploded. Yet one cannot help having a certain sympathy +and interest in men, who, like Mr. Walden, appear to still honestly +believe in it." + +"The Christian myth!" echoed Cicely--"My word! You do lay down the +law! Where should we be without the 'myth' I wonder?" + +"Pretty much where we are now,"--said Julian--"Two thousand years of +the Christian dispensation leaves the world still pagan. Self- +indulgence is still paramount. Wealth still governs both classes and +masses. Politics are still corrupt. Trade still plays its old game +of 'beggar my neighbour.' What would you! And in this day there is +no restraining influence on the laxity of social morals. Literature +is decadent,--likewise Painting;--Sculpture and Poetry are moribund. +Man's inborn monkeyishness is obtaining the upper hand and bearing +him back to his natural filth,--and the glimmerings of the Ideal as +shown forth in a few examples of heroic and noble living are like +the flash of the rainbow-arch spanning a storm-cloud,--beautiful, +but alas!--evanescent." + +"I'm afraid you are right"--said Maryllia, with a little sigh; "It +is very sad and discouraging, but I fear very true." + +"It's nothing of the kind!"--declared Cicely, with quick vehemence-- +"It's just absolute nonsense! It is! Ah, 'never shake thy gory locks +at me,' Sir Moon-Calf!" and she made a little grimace across the +table at Julian, who responded to it with a complacent smile--"You +can talk, talk, talk--of course! every man that ever sat in clubs, +smoking and drinking, can talk one's head off--but you've got to +LIVE, as well as talk! What do you know about self-indulgence being +'paramount,' except in your own case, eh? Do you think at all of the +thousands and thousands of poor creatures everywhere, who completely +sacrifice their lives to the needs of others?" + +"Of course there are such--" admitted Adderley; "But---" + +"No 'buts' come into the case," went on the young girl, her eyes +darkening with the earnestness of her thoughts--"I have seen quite +enough even in my time to know how good and kind to one another even +the poorest people can be. And I have had plenty of hardships to +endure, too! But I can tell you one thing--and that is, that the +Christian 'myth' as you call it, is just the one thing that makes MY +life worth living! I don't want to talk about religion--I never do,- +-I only just say this--that the great lesson of Christianity is +exactly what we most need to learn." + +"In what way?" asked Julian, smiling indulgently. + +"Why,--merely that if one is honest and true, one MUST be crucified. +Therefore one is prepared,--and there's no need to cry out when the +nails are driven in. The Christian 'myth' teaches us what to expect, +how to endure, and how at last to triumph!" + +A lovely light illuminated her face, and Maryllia looked at her very +tenderly. Adderley was silent. + +"Nothing does one so much good as to be hurt,"--went on Cicely in a +lighter tone--"You then become aware that you are a somebody whom +other bodies envy. You never know how high you have climbed till you +feel a few dirty hands behind you trying to pull you down! When I +start my career as a singer, I shall not be satisfied till I get +anonymous letters every morning, telling me what a fraud and failure +I am. Then I shall realise that I am famous!" + +"Alas!" said Julian with a comically resigned air--"I shall never be +of sufficient importance for that! No one would waste a penny stamp +on me! All I can ever hope to win is the unanimous abuse of the +press. That will at least give me an interested public!" + +They laughed. + +"Is Mr. Marius Longford a great friend of yours?" enquired Maryllia. + +"Ah, that I cannot tell!" replied Julian--"He may be friend, or he +may be foe. He writes for a great literary paper--and is a member of +many literary clubs. He has produced three books--all monstrously +dull. But he has a Clique. Its members are sworn to praise Longford, +or die. Indeed, if they do not praise Longford, they become +mysteriously exterminated, like rats or beetles. I myself have +praised Longford, lest I also get a dose of his unfailing poison. He +will not praise me--but no matter for that. If he would only abuse +me!--but he won't! His blame is far more valuable than his eulogy. +At present he stands like a kind of neutral whipping-post--very much +in my way!" + +"He knows Lord Roxmouth, he tells me,"--went on Maryllia; whereat +Cicely's sharp glance flashed at her inquisitively--"Lord Roxmouth +is by way of being a patron of the arts." + +The tone of her voice, slightly contemptuous, was not lost on +Adderley. He fancied he was on dangerous ground. + +"I have never met Lord Roxmouth myself"--he said--"But I have heard +Longford speak of him. Longford however rather 'makes' for society. +I do not. Longford is quite at home with dukes and duchesses---" + +"Or professes to be--" put in Maryllia, with a slight smile. + +"Or professes to be,--I accept the correction!" agreed Adderley. + +"Personally, I know nothing of him,"--said Maryllia--"I have never +seen him at any of the functions in London, and I should imagine him +to be a man who rather over-estimated himself. So many literary men +do. That is why most of them are such terrible social bores." + +"To the crime of being a literary man I plead not guilty!" and +Julian folded his hands in a kind of mock-solemn appeal--"Moreover, +I swear never to become one!" + +"Good boy!" smiled Cicely--"Be a modern Pan, and run away from all +the literary cliques, kicking up the dust behind you in their faces +as you go! Roam the woods in solitude and sing! + + "'The wind in the reeds and the rushes, + The bees on the bells of thyme, + The birds on the myrtle bushes, + The cicale above in the lime, + And the lizards below in the grass, + Were as silent as ever old Tinolus was, + Listening to my sweet pipings!'" + +"Ah, Shelley!" cried Adderley--"Shelley the divine! And how divinely +you utter his lines! Do you know the last verse of that poem:--'I +sang of the dancing stars'?" + +Cicely raised her hand, commanding attention, and went on: + + "'I sang of the dancing stars, + I sang of the daedal Earth, + And of Heaven,--and the giant wars, + And Love and Death and Birth. + And then I changed my pipings,-- + Singing, how down the vale of Menalus, + I pursued a maiden and clasped a reed, + Gods and men, we are all deluded thus! + It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed; + All wept, as I think both ye now would, + If envy or age had not frozen your blood, + At the sorrow of my sweet pipings!'" + +"Beau-tiful!--beau-tiful!" sighed Adderley--"But so remote!--so very +remote! Alas!--who reads Shelley now!" + +"I do"--said Cicely--"Maryllia does. You do. And many more. Shelley +didn't write for free-libraries and public-houses. He wrote for the +love of Art,--and he was drowned. You do the same, and perhaps +you'll be hung! It doesn't much matter how you end, so long as you +begin to be something no one else can be." + +"You have certainly begun in that direction!" said Julian. + +Cicely shrugged her shoulders. + +"I don't know! I am myself. Most people try to be what they're not. +Such a waste of time and effort! That's why I've taken a fancy to +the parson I met this morning, Mr. Walden. He is himself and no +other. He is as much himself as old Josey Letherbarrow is. Josey is +an individuality. So is Mr. Walden. So is Maryllia. So am I. And"-- +here she pointed a witch-like finger at Adderley--"so would you bes +if you didn't 'pose' as much as you do!" + +"Cicely!" murmured Maryllia, warningly, though she smiled. + +A slight flush swept over Adderley's face. But he took the remark +without offence, thereby showing himself to be of better mettle than +the little affectations of his outward appearance indicated. + +"You think so?" he said, placidly--"That is very dear of you!--very +young! You may be right--you may be wrong,--but from one so +unsophisticated as yourself it is a proposition worth considering-- +to pose, or not to pose! It is so new--so fresh!" + + + + +XVI + + +Walden kept his promise and duly arrived to tea at the Manor that +afternoon. He found his hostess in the library with Cicely and +Julian. She was showing to the latter one or two rare 'first +editions,' and was talking animatedly, but she broke off her +conversation the moment he was announced, and advanced to meet him +with a bright smile. + +"At last, Mr. Walden!" she said--"I am glad Cicely has succeeded +where I failed, in persuading you to accept the welcome that has +awaited you here for some time!" + +The words were gracefully spoken, with just the faintest trace of +kindly reproach in their intonation. Simple as they were, they +managed to deprive John of all power to frame a suitable reply. He +bowed over the little white hand extended to him, and murmured +something which was inaudible even to himself, while he despised +what he considered his own foolishness, clumsiness and general +ineptitude from the bottom of his heart. Maryllia saw his +embarrassment, and hastened to relieve him of it. + +"We have been talking books,"--she said, lightly--"Mr. Adderley has +almost knelt in adoration before my Shakespeare 'first folio.' It is +very precious, being uncalendared in the published lists of ordinary +commentators. I suppose you have seen it?" + +"Indeed I have"--replied Walden, as he shook hands with Cicely and +nodded pleasantly to Julian--"I'm afraid, Miss Vancourt, that if you +knew how often I have sat alone in this library, turning over the +precious volumes, you might be very angry with me! But I have saved +one or two from the encroaches of damp, such as the illuminated +vellum 'Petrarch,' and some few rare manuscripts--so you must try to +forgive my trespass. Mrs. Spruce used to let me come in and study +here whenever I liked." + +"Will you not do so still?" queried Maryllia, sweetly--"I can +promise you both solitude and silence." + +Again a wave of awkwardness overcame him. What could he say in +response to this friendly and gentle graciousness! + +"You are very kind,"--he murmured. + +"Not at all. The library is very seldom used--so the kindness will +be quite on your side if you can make it of service. I daresay you +know more about the books than I do. My father was very proud of +them." + +"He had cause to be,"--said Walden, beginning to recover his +equanimity and ease as the conversation turned into a channel which +was his natural element--"It is one of the finest collections in +England. The manuscripts alone are worth a fortune." Here he moved +to the table where Adderley stood turning over a wondrously painted +'Book of Hours'--"That is perfect twelfth-century work"--he said-- +"There is a picture in it which ought to please Miss Cicely," and he +turned the pages over tenderly--"Here it is,--the loveliest of Saint +Cecilias, in the act of singing!" + +Cicely smiled with pleasure, and hung over the beautifully +illuminated figure, surrounded with angels in clouds of golden +glory. + +"There's one thing about Heaven which everybody seems agreed upon,"- +-she said--"It's a place where we're all expected to sing!" + +"Not a doubt of it!" agreed Walden--"You will be quite in your +element!" + +"The idea of Heaven is remote--so very remote!" said Adderley--"But +if such a place existed, and I were bound to essay a vocal effort +there, I should transform it at once to Hell! The angels would never +forgive me!" + +They laughed. + +"Let us go into the garden"--said Maryllia--"It is quite lovely just +now,--there are such cool deep shadows on the lawn." + +Cicely at once ran out, beckoning Adderley to follow. Maryllia tied +on her hat with its pink strings and its bunch of pink hyacinths +tumbling against her small shell-like ear, and looked up from under +its brim with an entrancing smile. + +"Will you come, Mr. Walden?" + +John murmured something politely inarticulate in assent. He was, as +has already been stated, apt to be rather at a loss in the company +of women, unless they were well-seasoned matrons and grandames, with +whom he could converse on the most ordinary and commonplace topics, +such as the curing of hams, the schooling of children, or the best +remedies for rheumatism. A feminine creature who appeared to exist +merely to fascinate the eye and attract the senses, moved him to a +kind of mental confusion, which affected himself chiefly, as no one, +save the most intimate of his friends, would ever have noticed it, +or guessed that he was at any sort of pains to seem at ease. Just +now, as he took his soft shovel-hat, and followed his fair hostess +out on the lawn, his mind was more or less in a state of chaos, and +the thoughts that kept coming and going were as difficult to put +into consecutive order as a Chinese puzzle. One uncomfortable memory +however sat prominently in a corner of his brain like the mocking +phantasm of a mischievous Puck, pointing its jeering finger and +reminding him of the fact, not to be denied, that but a short while +ago, he had made up his mind to dislike, ay, even to detest, that +mysterious composition of white and rose, blue eyes and chestnut- +gold hair, called Maryllia Vancourt,--that he had resolved she would +be an altogether objectionable personage in the village--HIS +village--of St. Rest,--and that he had wished--Ah! what had he +wished? Back, O teazing reminder of the grudging and suspicious +spirit that had so lately animated the soul of a Christian cleric! +Yet it had to be admitted, albeit now reluctantly, that he had +actually wished the rightful mistress of Abbot's Manor had never +returned to it! Smitten with sorest compunction at the recollection +of his former blind prejudice against the woman he had then never +seen, he walked by her side over the warm soft grass, listening with +a somewhat preoccupied air to the remarks she was making concerning +Cicely Bourne, and the great hopes she entertained of the girl's +future brilliant career. + +"Really," she declared, "the only useful thing I have ever done in +my life is to rescue Cicely from uncongenial surroundings, and +provide her with all she needs for her musical studies. To help +bring out a great genius gives ME some little sense of importance, +you see! In myself I am such an utter nonentity." + +She laughed. Walden looked at her with an earnestness of which he +was scarcely conscious. She coloured a little, and her eyes fell. +Something in the sudden delicate flush of her cheeks and the quick +droop of her eyelashes startled him,--he felt a curious sense of +contrition, as though he had given her some indefinable, altogether +shadowy cause for that brief discomposure. The idea that she seemed, +even for a second, not quite so much at her ease, restored his own +nerve and self-possession, and it was with an almost paternal +gentleness that he said. + +"Do you really consider yourself a nonentity, Miss Vancourt? I am +sure the society you have left behind you in London does not think +you so." + +She opened her sea-blue eyes full upon him. + +"Society? Why do you speak of it? Its opinion of me or of anyone +else, is surely the last thing a sensible man. or woman would care +for, I imagine! One 'season' of it was enough for me. I have +unfortunately had several 'seasons,' and they were all too many." + +Again Walden looked at her, but this time she did not seem to be +aware of his scrutiny. + +"Do you take me for a member of the 'smart' set, Mr. Walden?" she +queried, gaily--"You are very much mistaken if you do! I have +certainly mixed with it, and know all about it--much to my regret-- +but I don't belong to it. Of course I like plenty of life and +amusement, but 'society' as London and Paris and New York express it +in their modes and manners and 'functions,' is to me the dullest +form of entertainment in the world." + +Walden was silent. She gave him a quick side-glance of enquiry. + +"I suppose you have been told something about me?" she said-- +"Something which represents me otherwise than as I represent myself. +Have you?" + +At this abrupt question John fairly started out of his semi- +abstraction in good earnest. + +"My dear Miss Vancourt!" he exclaimed, warmly--"How can you think of +such a thing! I have never heard a word about you, except from good +old Mrs. Spruce who knew you as a child, and who loves to recall +these days,--and--er--and---" + +He broke off, checking himself with a vexed gesture. + +"And--er--and--er--who else?" said Maryllia, smiling---"Now don't +play tricks with ME, or I'll play tricks with YOU!" + +His eyes caught and reflected her smile. + +"Well,--Sir Morton Pippitt spoke of you once in my hearing"--he +said--"And a friend of his whom he brought to see the church, the +Duke of Lumpton. Also a clergyman in this neighbourhood, a Mr. +Leveson--rector at Badsworth--HE mentioned you, and presumed"--here +John paused a moment,--"yes, I think I may say presumed--to know yon +personally." + +"Did he really! I never heard of him!" And she laughed merrily. "Mr. +Walden, if I were to tell you the number of people who profess to +know ME whom _I_ do not know and never WILL know, you would be +surprised! I never spoke to Sir Morton Pippitt in my life till the +other day, though he pretends he has met me,-but he hasn't. He may +have seen me perhaps by chance when I was a child in the nursery, +but I don't remember anything about him. My father never visited any +of the people here,--we lived very much to ourselves. As for the +Duke of Lumpton,--well!--nobody knows him that can possibly avoid +it--and I have never even so much as seen him. Aunt Emily may +possibly have spoken of me in these persons' hearing--that's quite +likely,--but they know nothing of me at first hand." She paused a +moment, "Look at Cicely!" she said--"How quickly she makes friends! +She and Mr. Adderley are chattering away like two magpies!" + +Walden looked in the direction indicated, and saw the couple at some +distance off, under the great cedar-tree which was the chief +ornament of the lawn,--Cicely seated in a low basket-chair, and +Adderley stretched on the grass at her feet. Both were talking +eagerly, both were gesticulating excitedly, and both looked exactly +what they were, two very eccentric specimens of humanity. + +"They seem perfectly happy!" he said, smiling--"Adderley is a +curious fellow, but I think he has a good heart. He puts on a +mannerism, because he has seen the members of a certain literary +'set' in London put it on--but he'll drop that in time,--when he is +a little older and wiser. He has been in to see me once or twice +since he took up his residence here for the summer. He tries to +discuss religion with me--or rather, I should say. irreligion. His +own special 'cult' is the easy paganism of Omar Kayyam." + +"Is he clever?" + +"I think he is. He has a more or less original turn of mind. He read +me some of his verses the other day." + +"Poor you!" laughed Maryllia. + +"Well, I was inclined to pity myself when he first began"--said +Walden, laughing also--"But I must confess I was agreeably +surprised. Some of his fancies are quite charming." + +They had been walking slowly across the lawn, and were now within a +few steps of the big cedar-tree. + +"I must take you into the rose-garden, Mr. Walden!"--and she raised +her eyes to his with that childlike confiding look which was one of +her special charms,--"The roses are just budding out, and I want you +to see them before the summer gets more advanced. Though I daresay +you know every rosebush in the place, don't you?" + +"I believe I do!" he admitted--"You see an old fogey like myself is +bound to have hobbies, and my particular hobby is gardening. I love +flowers, and I go everywhere I can, or may, to see them and watch +their growth. So that for years I have visited your rose-garden, +Miss Vancourt! I have been a regular and persistent trespasser,--but +all the same, I have never plucked a rose." + +"Well, I wish you had!" said Maryllia, feeling somewhat impatient +with him for calling himself an 'old fogey,'--why did he give +himself away?--she thought,--"I wish you had plucked them all and +handed them round in baskets to the villagers, especially to the old +and sick persons. It would have been much better than to have had +them sold at Riversford through Oliver Leach." + +"Did he sell them?" exclaimed John, quickly--"I am not surprised!" + +"He sold everything, and put the money in his own pocket"--said +Maryllia,--"But, after all, the loss is quite my own fault. I ought +to have enquired into the management of the property myself. And I +certainly ought not to have stayed away from home so many years. But +it's never too late to mend!" She smiled, and advancing a step or +two called "Cicely!" + +Cicely turned, looking up from beneath her spreading canopy of dark +cedar boughs. + +"Oh, Maryllia, we're having such fun!" she exclaimed--"Mr. Adderley +is talking words, and I'm talking music! We'll show you how it goes +presently!" + +"Do, please!" laughed Maryllia; "It must be delightful! Mr. Walden +and I are going into the rose-garden. We shall be back in a few +minutes!" + +She moved along, her white dress floating softly over the green +turf, its delicate flounces and knots of rosy ribbon looking like a +trail of living flowers. Walden, walking at her side, nodded +smilingly as he passed close by Cicely and Julian, his tall athletic +figure contrasting well with Maryllia's fairy-like grace,--and +presently, crossing from the lawn to what was called the 'Cherry- +Tree Walk,' because the path led under an arched trellis work over +which a couple of hundred cherry-trees were trained to form a long +arbour or pergola, they turned down it, and drawing closer together +in conversation, under the shower of white blossoms that shed +fragrance above their heads, they disappeared. Cicely, struck by a +certain picturesqueness, or what she would have called a 'stage +effect' in the manner of their exit, stopped abruptly in the +pianissimo humming of a tune with which she declared she had been +suddenly inspired by some lines Adderley had just recited. + +"Isn't she pretty!" she said, indicating with a jerk of her ever +gesticulating hand the last luminous glimmer of Maryllia's vanishing +gown--"She's like Titania,--or Kilmeny in Fairyland. Why don't you +write something about HER, instead of about some girl you 'imagine' +and never see?" + +Adderley, lying at his ease on the grass, turned on his arm and +likewise looked after the two figures that had just passed, as it +seemed, into a paradise of snowy flowers. + +"The girls I 'imagine' are always so much better than those I see,"- +-he replied, with uncomplimentary candour. + +"Thank you!" said Cicely--"You are quite rude, you know! But it +doesn't matter." + +He stared up at her in vague astonishment. + +"Oh, I didn't mean you!" he explained--"You're not a girl." + +"No, really!" ejaculated Cicely--"Then what am I, pray?" + +He looked at her critically,--at her thin sallow little face with +the intense eyes burning like flame under her well-marked black +eyebrows,--at her drooping angular arms and unformed figure, +tapering into the scraggy, long black-stockinged legs which ended in +a pair of large buckled shoes that covered feet of a decidedly flat- +iron model,--then he smiled oddly. + +"You are a goblin!"--he said--"An elf,--a pixie--a witch! You were +born in a dark cave where the sea dashed in at high tide and made +the rough stones roar with music. There were sea-gulls nesting above +your cradle, and when the wind howled, and you cried, they called to +you wildly in such a plaintive way that you stopped your tears to +listen to them, and to watch their white wings circling round you! +You are not a girl--no!--how can you be? For when you grew a little +older, the invisible people of the air took you away into a great +forest, and taught you to swing yourself on the boughs of the trees, +while the stars twinkled at you through the thick green leaves,--and +you heard the thrushes sing at morning and the nightingales at +evening, till at last you learned the trill and warble and the +little caught sob in the throat which almost breaks the heart of +those who listen to it? And so you have become what you are, and +what I say you always will be--a goblin--a witch!--not a girl, but a +genius!" + +He waved his hand with fantastic gesture and raked up his hair. + +"That's all very well and very pretty,"--said Cicely, showing her +even white teeth in a flashing 'goblin' grin,--"But of course you +don't mean a word of it! It's merely a way of talking, such as +poets, or men that call themselves poets, affect when the 'fit' is +on them. Just a string of words,--mere babble! You'd better write +them down, though,--you musn't waste them! Publishers pay for so +many words I believe, whether they're sense or nonsense,--please +don't lose any halfpence on my account! Do you know you are smiling +up at the sky as if you were entirely mad? Ordinary people would say +you were,--people to whom dinner is the dearest thing in life would +suggest your being locked up. And me, too, I daresay! You haven't +answered my question,--why don't you write something about +Maryillia?" + +"She, too, is not a girl,"--rejoined Adderley--"She is a woman. And +she is absolutely unwritable!" + +"Too lovely to find expression even in poetry,"--said Cicely, +complacently. + +"No no!--not that! Not that!" And Adderley gave a kind of serpentine +writhe on the grass as he raised himself to a half-sitting posture-- +"Gentle Goblin, do not mistake me! When I say that Miss Vancourt is +unwritable, I would fain point out that she is above and beyond the +reach of my Muse. I cannot 'experience' her! Yes--that is so! What a +poet needs most is the flesh model. The flesh model may be Susan, or +Sarah, or Jane of the bar and tap-room,--but she must have lips to +kiss, hair to touch, form to caress---" + +"Saint Moses!" cried Cicely, with an excited wriggle of her long +legs--"Must she?" + +"She must!" declared Julian, with decision--"Because when you have +kissed the lips, you have experienced a 'sensation,' and you can +write--'Ah, how sweet the lips I love.' You needn't love them, of +course,--you merely try them. She must be amenable and good-natured, +and allow herself to be gazed at for an hour or so, till you decide +the fateful colour of her eyes. If they are blue, you can paraphrase +George Meredith on the 'Blue is the sky, blue is thine eye' system-- +if black, you can recall the 'Lovely as the light of a dark eye in +woman,' of Byron. She must allow you to freely encircle her waist +with an arm, so that having felt the emotion you can write--"How +tenderly that yielding form, Thrills to my touch!' And then,--even +as a painter who pays so much per hour for studying from the life,-- +you can go away and forget her--or you can exaggerate her charms in +rhyme, or 'imagine' that she is fairer than Endymion's moon-goddess- +-for so long as she serves you thus she is useful,--but once her +uses are exhausted, the poet has done with her, and seeks a fresh +sample. Hence, as I say, your friend Miss Vancourt is above my +clamour for the Beautiful. I must content myself with some humbler +type, and 'imagine' the rest!" + +"Well, I should think you must, if that's the way you go to work!" +said Cicely, with eyes brimful of merriment and mischief--"Why you +are worse than the artists of the Quartier Latin! If you must needs +'experience' your models, I wonder that Susan, Sarah and Jane of the +bar and tap-room are good enough for you!" + +"Any human female suffices,"--murmured Julian, drowsily, "Provided +she is amenable,--and is not the mother of a large family. At the +spectacle of many olive branches, the Muse shrieks a wild farewell!" +Cicely broke into a peal of laughter. + +"You absurd creature!" she said--"You don't mean half the nonsense +you talk--you know you don't!" + +"Do I not? But then, what do I mean? Am I justified in assuming that +I mean anything?" And he again ran his fingers through his ruddy +locks abstractedly. "No,--I think not! Therefore, if I now make a +suggestion, pray absolve me from any serious intentions underlying +it--and yet---" + +"'And yet'--what?" queried Cicely, looking at him with some +curiosity. + +"Ah! 'And yet'! Such little words, 'and yet'!" he murmured--"They +are like the stepping-stones across a brook which divides one sweet +woodland dell from another! 'And yet'!" He sighed profoundly, and +plucking a daisy from the turf, gazed into its golden heart +meditatively. "What I would say, gentle Goblin, is this,--you call +me Moon-calf, therefore there can be no objection to my calling you +Goblin, I think?" + +"Not the least in the world!" declared Cicely--"I rather like it!" + +"So good of you!--so dear!" he said, softly--"Well!--'and yet'--as I +have observed, the Muse may, like the Delphic oracle, utter words +without apparent signification, which only the skilled proficient at +her altar may be able to unravel. Therefore,--in this precise +manner, my suggestion may be wholly without point,--or it may not." + +"Please get on with it, whatever it is,"--urged Cicely, impatiently- +-"You're not going to propose to me, are you? Because, if so, it's +no use. I'm too young, and I only met you this morning!" + +He threw the daisy he had just plucked at her laughing face. + +"Goblin, you are delicious!" he averred--"But the ghastly spectre of +matrimony does not at present stand in my path, luring me to the +frightful chasms of domesticity, oblivion and despair. What was it +the charming Russian girl Bashkirtseff wrote on this very subject? +'Me marier et'---?" + +"I can tell you!" exclaimed Cicely--"It was the one sentence in the +whole book that made all the men mad, because it showed such utter +contempt for them! 'Me marier et avoir des enfants? Mais--chaque +blanchisseuse peut en faire autant! Je veux la gloire!' Oh, how I +agree with her! Moi, aussi, je veux la gloire!" + +Her dark eyes flamed into passion,--for a moment she looked almost +beautiful. Adderley stared languidly at her as he would have stared +at the heroine of an exciting scene on the stage, with indolent, yet +critical interest. + +"Goblin incroyable!" he sighed--"You are so new!--so fresh!" + +"Like salad just gathered," said Cicely, calming down suddenly from +his burst of enthusiasm--"And what of your 'suggestion'?" + +"My suggestion," rejoined Adderley--"is one that may seem to you a +strange one. It is even strange to myself! But it has flashed into +my brain suddenly,--and even so inspiration may affect the dullard. +It is this: Suppose the Parson fell in love with the Lady, or the +Lady fell in love with the Parson? Either, neither, or both?" + +Cicely sat up straight in her chair as though she had been suddenly +pulled erect by an underground wire. + +"What do you mean?" she asked--"Suppose the parson fell in love with +the lady or the lady with the parson! Is it a riddle?" + +"It may possibly become one;" he replied, complacently--"But to +speak more plainly--suppose Mr. Walden fell in love with Miss +Vancourt, or Miss Vancourt fell in love with Mr. Walden, what would +you say?" + +"Suppose a Moon-calf jumped over the moon!" said Cicely +disdainfully--"Saint Moses! Maryllia is as likely to fall in love as +I am,--and I'm the very last possibility in the way of sentiment. +Why, whatever are you thinking of? Maryllia has heaps of men in, +love with her,--she could marry to-morrow if she liked." + +"Ay, no doubt she could marry--that is quite common--but perhaps she +could not love!" And Julian waved one hand expressively. "To love is +so new!--so fresh!" + +"But Maryllia would never fall in love with a PARSON!" declared +Cicely, almost resentfully--"A parson!--a country parson too! The +idea is perfectly ridiculous!" + +A glimmer of white in the vista of the flowering 'Cherry-Tree Walk' +here suddenly appeared and warned her that Maryllia and the Reverend +John were returning from their inspection of the rose-garden. She +cheeked herself in an outburst of speech and silently watched them +approaching. Adderley watched them too with a kind of lachrymose +interest. They were deep in conversation, and Maryllia carried a +bunch of white and blush roses which she had evidently just +gathered. She looked charmingly animated, and now and then a light +ripple of her laughter floated out on the air as sweet as the songs +of the birds chirming around them. + +"The roses are perfectly lovely!" she exclaimed delightedly, as she +came under the shadow of the great cedar-tree; "Mr. Walden says he +has never seen the standards so full of bud." Here she held the +cluster she had gathered under Cicely's nose. "Aren't they +delicious! Oh, by the bye, Mr. Walden, I have promised you one! You +must have it, in return for the spray of lilac you gave me when I +came to see YOUR garden! Now you must take a rose from mine!" And, +laying all the roses on Cicely's lap, she selected one delicate +half-opened, blush-white bloom. "Shall I put it in your coat for +you?" + +"If you will so far honour me!" answered Walden;--he was strangely +pale, and a slight tremor passed over him as he looked down at the +small fingers,--pink-tipped as the petals of the flower they so +deftly fastened in his buttonhole; "And how"--he continued, with an +effort, addressing Cicely and Julian--"How have Music and Poetry got +on together?" + +"Oh, we're not married yet,"--said Cicely, shaking off the dumb +spell which Adderley's 'suggestion' had for a moment cast upon her +mind--"We ought to be, of course,--for a real good opera. But we're +only just beginning courtship. Mr. Adderley has recited some lines +of his own composition, and I have improvised some music. You shall +hear the result some day." + +"Why not now?" queried Maryllia, as she seated herself in another +chair next to Cicely's under the cedar boughs, and signed to Walden +to do the same. + +"Why, because I believe that the tea is about to arrive. I saw the +majestic Primmins in the distance, wrestling with a table--didn't +you, Mr. Adderley?" + +Adderley rose from his half recumbent position on the grass, and +shading his eyes from the afternoon sunshine, looked towards the +house. + +"Yes,--it is even so!" he replied--"Primmins and a subordinate are +on the way hither with various creature comforts. Music and Poetry +must pause awhile. Yet why should there be a pause? It is for this +that I am a follower of Omar Kayyam. He was a materialist as well as +a spiritualist, and his music admits of the aforesaid creature +comforts as much as the exalted and subtle philosophies and ironies +of life." + +"Poor Omar!" said Walden,--"The pretty piteousness of him is like +the wailing of a lamb led to the slaughter. Grass is good to graze +on, saith lambkin,--other lambs are fair to frisk with,--but alas!-- +neither grass nor lambs can last, and therefore as lambkin cannot +always be lambkin, it bleats its end in Nothingness! But, thank God, +there is something stronger and wiser in the Universe than lambkin!" + +"True!" said Adderley, "But even lambkin has a right to complain of +its destiny." + +Walden smiled. + +"I think not,"--he rejoined--"No created thing has a right to +complain of its destiny. It finds itself Here,--and the fact that it +IS Here is a proof that there is a purpose for its existence. What +that purpose is we do not know yet, but we SHALL know!" + +Adderley lifted dubious eyelids. + +"You think we shall?" + +"Most assuredly! What does Dante Rosetti say?-- + + 'The day is dark and the night + To him that would search their heart; + No lips of cloud that will part + Nor morning song in the light; + Only, gazing alone + To him wild shadows are shown, + Deep under deep unknown, + + And height above unknown height + Still we say as we go: + "Strange to think by the way + Whatever there is to know + That shall we know one day."'" + +He recited the lines softly, but with eloquent emphasis. "You see, +those of us who take the trouble to consider the working and +progress of events, know well enough that this glorious Creation +around us is not a caprice or a farce. It is designed for a Cause +and moves steadily towards that Cause. There may be--no doubt there +are--many men who elect to view life from a low, material, or even +farcical standpoint--nevertheless, life in itself is serious and +noble." + +Cicely's dark face lightened as with an illumination while she +listened to these words. Maryllia, who had taken up the roses she +had laid in Cicely's lap, and was now arranging them afresh, looked +up suddenly. + +"Yet there are many searching truths in the philosophy of Omar +Kayyam, Mr. Walden,"--she said--"Many sad facts that even our +religion can scarcely get over, don't you think so?" + +He met her eyes with a gentle kindliness in his own. + +"I think religion, if true and pure, turns all sad facts to +sweetness, Miss Vancourt,"--he said--"At least, so I have found it." + +The clear conviction of his tone was like the sound of a silver bell +calling to prayer. A silence followed, broken only by the singing of +a little bird aloft in the cedar-tree, whose ecstatic pipings aptly +expressed the unspoilt joys of innocence and trust. + +"One pretty verse of Omar I remember," then said Cicely, abruptly, +fixing her penetrating eyes on Walden,--"And it really isn't a bit +irreligious. It is this:-- + + 'The Bird of Life is singing on the bough, + His two eternal notes of "I and Thou"-- + O hearken well, for soon the song sings through, + And would we hear it, we must hear it Now!'" + +A white rose slipped from the cluster Maryllia held, and dropped on +the grass. John stooped for it, and gave it back to her. Their hands +just touched as she smiled her thanks. There was nothing in the +simple exchange of courtesies to move any self-possessed man from +his normal calm, yet a sudden hot thrill and leap of the heart dazed +Walden's brain for a moment and made him almost giddy. A sick fear-- +an indefinable horror of himself possessed him,--caught by this +mmameable transport of sudden and singular emotion, he felt he could +have rushed away, away!--anywhere out of reach and observation, and +have never entered the fair and halcyon gardens of Abbot's Manor +again. Why?--in Heaven's name, why? He could not tell,--but--he had +no right to be there!--no right to be there!--he kept on repeating +to himself;--he ought to have remained at home, shut up in his study +with his dog and his books,--alone, alone, always alone! The brief +tempest raged over his soul with soundless wind and fire,--then +passed, leaving no trace on his quiet features and composed manner. +But in that single instant an abyss had been opened in the depths of +his own consciousness,--an abyss into which he looked with amazement +and dread at the strange foolhardiness which had involuntarily led +him to its brink,--and he now drew back from it, nervously +shuddering. + +"'And would we hear it, we must hear it Now!'" repeated Adderley, +with opportune bathos at this juncture--"As I have said, and will +always maintain, Omar's verse always fits in with the happy approach +of creature comforts! Behold the illustration and example!--Primmins +with the tea!" + +"It is a pretty verse, though, isn't it?" queried Cicely, moving her +chair aside to make more space for the butler and footman as they +nimbly set out the afternoon tea-table in the deepest shade bestowed +by the drooping cedar boughs--"Isn't it?" + +And her searching eyes fastened themselves pertinaciously upon +John's face. + +"Very pretty!" he answered, steadily--"And--so far-as it goes--very +true!" + + + + +XVII + + +After tea, they re-entered the house at Maryllia's request to hear +Cicely play. Arrived in the drawing-room they found the only truly +modern thing in it, a grand piano, of that noted French make which +as far surpasses the German model as a genuine Stradivarius +surpasses a child's fiddle put together yesterday, and, taking her +seat at this instrument, Cicely had transformed both herself and it +into unspeakable enchantment. The thing of wood and wire and ivory +keys had become possessed, as it were, with the thunder of the +battling clouds and the great rush of the sea,--and then it had +suddenly whispered of the sweetness of love and life, till out of +storm had grown the tender calm of a flowing melody, on which +wordless dreams of happiness glittered like rainbow bubbles on foam, +shining for a moment and then vanishing at a breath; it had caught +the voices of the rain and wind,--and the pattering drops and +sibilant hurricane had whizzed sharply through the scale of sound +till the very notes seemed alive with the wrath of nature,--and then +it had rolled all the wild clamour away into a sustained +magnificence of prayerful chords which seemed to plead for all +things grand, all things true, all things beautiful,--and to list +the soul of man in panting, labouring ecstasy up to the very +threshold of Heaven! And she--the 'goblin' who evoked all this +phantasmagoria of life set in harmony--she too changed as it seemed, +in nature and aspect,--her small meagre face was as the face of a +pictured angel, with the dark hair clustering round it in thick +knots and curling waves as of blackest bronze,--while the eyes, full +of soft passion and fire, glowed beneath the broad temples with the +light of youth's imperial dream of fame. What human creature could +accept the limited fact of being mere man, mere woman only, while +Cicely played? Such music as hers recalled and revealed the earliest +splendour of the days when Poesy was newly born,--when gods and +goddesses were believed to walk the world in large and majestic +freedom,--and when brave deeds of chivalry and self-sacrifice became +exalted by the very plenitude of rich imagination, into supernatural +facts of heaven conquering, hell-charming prowess. Not then was man +made to seem uncouth, or mean and savage in his attempts to dominate +the planet, but strong, fearless, and endowed with dignity and +power. Not then was every noble sentiment derided,--every truth +scourged,--every trust betrayed,-every tenderness mocked,--and every +sweet emotion made the subject of a slander or a sneer. Not then was +love mere lust, marriage mere convenience, and life mere +covetousness of gain. There was something higher, greater, purer +than these,--something of the inspiring breath of God, which, +according to the old Biblical narrative, was breathed into humanity +with the words--"Let us make man in Our image, after Our likeness." +That 'image' of God was featured gloriously in the waves of music +which surged through Cicely's brain and fingers, out on the +responsive air,--and when she ceased playing there followed a dumb +spell of wonderment and awe, which those who had listened to her +marvellous improvisation were afraid to break by a word or movement. +And then, with a smile at their mute admiration and astonishment, +she had passed her small supple hands lightly again over the piano- +keys, evoking therefrom a playful prelude, and the pure silvery +sound of her voice had cloven the air asunder with De Musset's +'Adieu, Suzon!' + + "Adieu, Suzon, ma rose blonde, + Qui m'as aime pendant huit jours! + Les plus courts plaisirs de ce monde + Souvent font les meilleurs amours. + + Sais-je au moment ou je te quitte + Ou m'entraine mon astre errant? + Je m'en vais pourtant, ma petite, + Bien loin, bien vite, + Adieu, Suzon!" + +Was it possible for any man with a drop of warm blood flowing +through his veins, not to feel a quicker heart-beat, a swifter +pulse, at the entrancing, half-melancholy, half-mocking sweetness +she infused into these lines? + + "Je pars, et sur ma levre ardente + Brule encor ton dernier baiser. + Entre mes bras, chere imprudente + Ton beau front vient de reposer. + Sens-tu mon coeur, comme il palpite? + Le tien, comme il battait gaiment! + + Je m'en vais pourtant, ma petite, + Bien loin, bien vite + Tourjours t'aimant! + Adieu, Suzon!" + +With the passion, fire and exquisite abandon of her singing of this +verse in tones of such youthful freshness and fervour as could +scarcely be equalled and never surpassed, Adderley could no longer +restrain himself, and crying 'Brava!--brava! Bravissima!' fell to +clapping his hands in the wildest ecstasy. Walden, less +demonstrative, was far more moved. Something quite new and strange +to his long fixed habit and temperament had insidiously crept over +him,--and being well accustomed to self-analysis, he was conscious +of the fact, and uneasy at finding himself in the grip of an emotion +to which he could give no name. Therefore, he was glad when,--the +music being ended, and when he had expressed his more or less +incoherent praise and thanks to Cicely for the delight her wonderful +gift had afforded him,--he could plead some business in the village +as an excuse to take his departure. Maryllia very sweetly bade him +come again. + +"As often as you like,"--she said--"And I want you to promise me one +thing, Mr. Walden!--you must consent to meet some of my London +friends here one evening to dinner." + +She had given him her hand in parting, and he was holding it in his +own. + +"I'm afraid I should be very much in the way, Miss Vancourt,"--he +replied, with a grave smile--"I am not a social acquisition by any +means! I live very much alone,--and a solitary life, I think, suits +me best." + +She looked at him thoughtfully, and withdrew her hand. + +"That means that you do not care to come,"--she said, simply--"I am +so sorry you do not like me!" + +The blood rushed up to his brows. + +"Miss Vancourt!" he stammered--"Pray--pray do not think---" + +But here she turned aside to receive Adderley's farewells and thanks +for the charming afternoon he had spent in her company. After this, +and when Julian had made his exit, accompanied by Cicely who wanted +him to give her a written copy of certain verses he had composed, +Maryllia again spoke: + +"Well, at any rate, I shall send you an invitation to one of my +parties, whether you come or not, Mr. Walden;" she said, playfully-- +"Otherwise, I shall feel I have not done my social duty to the +minister of the parish! It will be for some evening during the +next three weeks. I hope you will be able to accept it. If not---" + +A sudden resolve inspired John's hesitating soul. Taking the hand +she offered, he raised it lightly to his lips with all the gallantry +of an old-world courtier rather than a modern-time parson. + +"If you wish me to accept it, it shall be accepted!"--he said, and +his voice shook a little--"Forgive me if in any way. I have seemed +to you discourteous, Miss Vancourt!--I am so much of a solitary, +that 'society' has rather an intimidating effect upon me,--but you +must never"--here he looked at her full and bravely--"You must never +say again or think that I do not like you! I DO like you!" + +Her eyes met his with pure and candid earnestness. + +"That is kind of you,"--she said--"And I am glad! Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye!" + +And so he left her presence. + +When he started to walk home across the fields, Adderley proffered +his companionship, which could not in civility be refused. They left +the Manor grounds together by the little wicket-gate, and took the +customary short-cut to the village. The lustrous afternoon light was +mellowing warmly into a deeper saffron glow,--a delicate suggestion +of approaching evening was in the breath of the cooling air, and +though the uprising orb of Earth had not yet darkened the first gold +cloud beneath the western glory of the sun, there was a gentle +murmur and movement among the trees and flowers and birds, which +indicated that the time for rest and sleep was drawing nigh. The +long grasses rustled mysteriously, and the smafl unseen herbs hidden +under them sent up a pungently sweet odour as the two men trod them +down on their leisurely way across the fields,--and it was with a +certain sense of relief from mental strain that Walden lifted his +hat and let the soft breeze fan his temples, which throbbed and +ached very strangely as though with a weight of pent-up tears. He +was very silent,--and Julian Adderley, generally accustomed to talk +for two, seemed disposed to an equal taciturnity. The few hours they +had spent in the society of Maryllia Vancourt and her weird +protegee, Cicely Bourne, had given both men subject for various +thoughts which neither of them were inclined to express to one +another. Walden, in particular, was aware of a certain irritation +and uneasiness of mind which troubled him greatly and he looked +askance at his companion with unchristian impatience. The long- +legged, red-haired poet was decidedly in his way at the present +moment,--he would rather have been alone. He determined in any case +not to ask him to enter the rectory garden,--more of his society +would be intolerable,--they would part at the gate,-- + +"I'm afraid I'm boring you, Mr. Walden,"--said the unconscious +object of his musings, just then--" I am dull! I feel myself under a +cloud. Pray excuse it!" + +The expression of his face was comically lachrymose, and John felt a +touch of compunction at the nature of his own immediate mental +attitude towards the harmless 'moon-calf.' + +"Don't apologise!" he said, with a frank smile--"I myself am not in +a companionable humour. I think Miss Bourne's music has not only put +something into us, but taken something out of us as well." + +"You are right!" said Julian--"You are perfectly right. And you +express the emotion aptly. It was extraordinary music! But that +voice! That voice will be a wonder of the world!" + +"It is a wonder already"--rejoined Walden--"If the girl keeps her +health and does not break down from nervous excitement and +overstrain, she will have a dazzling career. I think Miss Vancourt +will take every possible care of her." + +"Miss Vancourt is very lovely,"--said Adderley reflectively, "I have +made up my mind on that point at last. When I first saw her, I was +not convinced. Her features are imperfect. But they are mobile and +expressive--and in the expression there is a subtle beauty which is +quite provocative. Then again, my own 'ideals' of women have always +been tall and queenly,--yet in Miss Vanconrt we have a woman who is +queenly without being tall. It is the regal air without the material +inches. And I am now satisfied that the former is more fascinating +than the latter. Though I admit that it was once my dream to die +upon the breast of a tall woman!" + +Walden. laughed forcedly. He was vexed to be compelled to listen to +Adderley's criticism of Maryllia Vancourt's physical charms, yet he +was powerless to offer any remonstrance. + +"But, after all," continued Julian, gazing up into the pink and +mauve clouds of the kindling sunset,--"The tall woman might +possibly, from the very coldness of her height, be unsympathetic. +She might be unclaspable. Juno seems even more repellent than Venus +or Psyche. Then again, there are so many large women. They are +common. They obstruct the public highway. They tower forth in +theatre-stalls, and nod jewelled tiaras from the elevation of opera- +boxes, blocking out the view of the stage. They are more often +assertive than lovable. Therefore let me not cling to an illusion +which will not bear analysis. For Miss Vancourt is not a tall +woman,--nor for that matter is she short,--she is indescribable, and +therefore entirely bewitching!" + +John said nothing, but only walked on a trifle more quickly. + +"You are perhaps not an admirer of the fair sex, Walden?" pursued +his companion--"And therefore my observations awaken no sympathy in +your mind?" + +"I never discuss women,"--replied Walden, drily--"I am not a poet, +you see,--" and he smiled--"I am merely a middle-aged parson. You +can hardly expect me to share in your youthful enthusiasms, +Adderley! You are going up the hill of life,--I am travelling down. +We cannot see things from the same standpoint." Here, they left the +fields and came to the high road,--from thence a few more paces +brought them to the gate of the rectory. "But I quite agree with you +in your admiration of Miss Vancourt. She seems a most kindly and +charming lady--and--I believe--I am sure"--and his remarks become +somewhat rambling and disjointed--"yes--I am sure she will try to do +good in the village now that she has taken up her residence here. +That is, of course, if she stays. She may get tired of country life- +-that is quite probable--but--it is, of course, a good thing to have +a strong social influence in the neighbourhood--especially a woman's +influence--and I should say Miss Vancourt will make herself useful +and beloved in the parish---" + +At this period he caught Adderley's eyes fixed upon him somewhat +quizzically, and realised that he was getting quite 'parochial' in +his talk. He checked himself abruptly and swung open his garden +gate. + +"I'm sorry I can't ask you in just now,"--he said--"I have some +pressing work to do---" + +"Don't mention it!" and Julian clasped him by the hand fervently--"I +would not intrude upon you for worlds! You must be alone, of course. +You are delightful!--yes, my dear Walden, you are delicious! So new- +-so fresh! It is a privilege to know you! Good-bye for the moment! I +may come and talk to you another time!" + +"Oh, certainly! By all means!" And Walden, shaking hands with all +the vigour Adderley's grasp enforced upon him, escaped at last into +the sanctuary of his own garden, and hastened under the covering +shadow of the trees that bordered the lawn. Adderley watched him +disappear, and then went on his own way with a gratified air of +perfect complacency. + +"Those who 'never discuss women' are apt to be most impressed by +them,"--he sagaciously reflected--"The writhings of a beetle on a +pin are not so complex or interesting as the writhings of a parson's +stabbed senses! Now a remarkable psychological study might be made-- +My good friend! Kindly look where you are going!" + +This last remark was addressed to a half-drunken man who pushed past +him roughly without apology, almost jostling him off the foot-path. +It was Oliver Leach, who hearing himself spoken to, glanced round +sullenly with a muttered oath, and stumbled on. + +"That is Miss Vancourt's dismissed agent,"--said Adderley, pausing a +moment to watch his uncertain progress up the road. "What an +objectionable beast!" + +He walked on, and, his former train of thought being entirely +disturbed, he went to the 'Mother Huff,' where he was a frequent +visitor, his elaborate courtesies to Mrs. Buggins enabling him to +hear from that lady's pious lips all the latest news, scandal and +gossip, true or untrue, concerning the whole neighbourhood. + +Walden, meanwhile, finding himself once more alone in his own +domain, breathed freely. The faithful Nebbie, who had passed all the +hours of his master's absence, 'on guard' by the window of the +vacant study, came running to meet him as he set foot upon the +lawn,--three or four doves that were brooding on the old tiled and +gabled roof of the rectory, rose aloft in a short flight and +descended again, cooing softly as though with satisfaction at his +return,--and there was a soothing silence everywhere, the work of +the day being done, and Bainton having left the garden trim and fair +to its own sweet solitude and calm. Gently patting his dog's rough +head, as the animal sprang up to him with joyous short barks of +welcome, John looked about him quietly for a moment or two with an +expression in his eyes that was somewhat dreamy and pathetic. + +"I have known the old place so long and loved every corner of it!"-- +he murmured--"And yet,--to-day it seems all strange and unfamiliar!" + +The glow of the sunset struck a red flare against the walls of his +house, and beat out twinkling diamond flashes from the latticed +windows,--the clambering masses of honeysuckle and roses shone forth +in vivid clusters as though inwardly illuminated. The warmth and +ecstasy of life seemed palpitating in every flush of colour, every +shaft of light,--and the wild, voluptuous singing of unseen +skylarks, descending to their nests, and shaking out their songs, as +it seemed, like bubbles of music breaking asunder in the clear +empyrean, expressed the rapture of heaven wedded to the sensuous, +living, breathing joys of earth. The glamour and radiance of the air +affected Walden with a sudden unwonted sense of fatigue and pain, +and pressing one hand across his eyes, he shut out the dazzle of +blue sky and green grass for a moment's respite,--then went slowly, +and with bent head into his study. Here everything was very quiet,-- +and, as it struck him then, curiously lonely,--on his desk lay +various notes and messages and accounts--the usual sort of paper +litter that accumulated under his hands every day,--two or three +visiting cards had been left for him during his absence,--one on the +part of the local doctor, a very clever and excellent fellow named +James Forsyth, who was familiarly called 'Jimmy' by the villagers, +and who often joined Walden of an evening to play a game of chess +with him,--and another bearing the neat superscription 'Mrs. +Mandeville Poreham. The Leas. At Home Thursdays,'--whereat he +smiled. Mrs. Mandeville Poreham was a 'county' lady, wife of a +gentleman-at-ease who did nothing but hunt, and who never had done +anything in all his life but hunt,--she was also the mother of five +marriageable daughters, and her calls on the Reverend John were +marked by a polite and patient persistency that seemed altogether +admirable. She lived some two miles out of St. Rest, but always +attended Walden's church regularly, driving thither with her family +in a solemnly closed private omnibus of the true 'county' type. She +professed great interest in all Church matters, on the ground that +she was herself the daughter of a dead-and-gone clergyman. + +"My poor father!" she was wont to say, smoothing her sleek bandeaux +of grey hair on either side of her forehead with one long, pale, +thin finger--"He was such a good man! Ah yes!--and he had such a +lovely mind! My mother was a Beedle." + +This last announcement, generally thrown in casually, was apt to be +startling to the uninitiated,--and it was not till the genealogy of +the Beedle family had been duly explained to the anxious enquirer, +that it was seen how important and allsufficing it was to have had a +Beedle for one's maternal parent. The Beedles were a noted 'old +stock' in Suffolk, so it appeared,--and to be connected with a +Suffolk Beedle was, to certain provincial minds of limited +perception, a complete guarantee of superior birth and breeding. +Walden was well accustomed to receiving a call from Mrs. Poreham +about every ten days or so, and he did his utmost best to dodge her +at all points. Bainton was his ready accomplice in this harmless +conspiracy, and promptly gave him due warning whenever the Poreham +''bus' or landau was seen weightily bearing down upon the village, +with the result that, on the arrival of the descendant of the +Beedles at the rectory door she was met by Hester Rockett, the +parlourmaid, with a demure smile and the statement,--'Mr. Walden is +out, mim.' Then, when Walden, according to the laws of etiquette, +had to return the lady's visit, Bainton again assisted him by +watching and waiting till he could inform him, ''as 'ow he'd seen +that blessed old Poreham woman drivin' out with 'er fam'ly to +Riversford. They won't likely be back for a couple of hours at +least.' Whereupon Walden straightway took a swinging walk up to 'The +Leas,' deposited his card with the footman, for the absent 'fam'ly' +and returned again in peace to his own dwelling. + +This afternoon he had again, as usual, missed the worthy lady, and +he set aside her card, the smile with which he had glanced at it +changing suddenly to a sigh of somewhat wearied impatience. Surely +there was something unusually dark and solitary in the aspect of the +room to which, for so many years, he had been accustomed, and where +he had generally found comfort and contentment? The vivid hues of +the sunset were declining rapidly, and the solemn shadow of evening +was creeping up apace over the sky and outer landscape--but +something heavier than the mild obscurity of approaching night +seemed weighing on the air around him, which oppressed his nerves +and saddened his soul. He stood absently turning over the papers on +his desk, in a frame of mind which left him uncertain how to employ +himself,--whether to read,--to write,--to finish a sketch of the +flowering reeds on the river which he had yesterday begun,--or to +combat with his own mood, fathom its meaning, and conquer its +tendency? There came a light tap at his door and the maid Hester +entered with a letter. + +"The last post, sir. Only one for you." + +He took it up indifferently as the girl retired,--then uttered a +slight exclamation of pleasure. + +"From Brent,"--he said, half aloud--"Dear old fellow! I have not +heard from him since New Year." + +He opened the letter, and began to read. The interested look in his +eyes deepened,--and he moved nearer to the open window to avail +himself as much as possible of the swiftly decreasing light. + +"DEAR WALDEN,"--it ran--"The spirit moves me to write to you, not +only because it occurs to me that I have failed to do so for a long +time, but also because I feel a certain necessity for thought- +expansion to someone, who, like yourself, is accustomed to the habit +of thinking. The tendency of the majority nowadays is,--or so it +appears to me,--to forget the purpose for which the brain was +designed, or rather to use it for no higher object than that for +which it is employed by the brute creation, namely to consider the +ways and means of securing food, and then to ruminate on the self- +gratification which follows the lusts of appetite. In fact, 'to rot +and rot,--and thereby hangs a tale!' But before I enter into any +particulars of my own special phase or mood, let me ask how it fares +with you in your small and secluded parish? All must be well, I +imagine, otherwise doubtless I should have heard. It seems only the +other day that I came, at your request, to consecrate your beautiful +little church of 'The Saint's Rest,'--yet seven years have rolled +away since then, leaving indelible tracks of age on me, as probably +on you also, my dear fellow!--though you have always carried old +Time on your back more lightly and easily than I. To me he has ever +been the Arabian Nights' inexorable 'Old Man of the Sea,' whose +habit is to kill unless killed. At fifty-one I feel myself either +'rusting' or mellowing; I wonder which you will judge the most +fitting appellation for me when we next meet? Mind and memory play +me strange tricks in my brief moments of solitude, and whenever I +think of you, I imagine it can only be yesterday that we two college +lads walked and talked together in the drowsy old streets of Oxford +and made our various plans for our future lives with all the superb +dominance and assertiveness of youth, which is so delightful while +it lasts, despite the miserable deceptions it practises upon us. One +thing, however, which I gained in the past time, and which has never +deceived me, is your friendship,--and how much I owe to you no one +but myself can ever tell. Good God!--how superior you always were, +and are, to me! Why did you efface yourself so completely for my +sake? I often ask this question, and except for the fact that it +would be impossible to you to even make an attempt to override, for +mere ambition, anyone for whom you had a deep affection, I cannot +imagine any answer. But as matters have turned out with me I think +it might have been better after all, had you been in my place and I +in yours! A small 'cure of souls' would have put my mental fibre to +less torture, than the crowding cares of my diocese, which depress +me more and more as they increase. Many things seem to me hopeless,- +-utterly irremediable! The shadow of a pre-ponderating, defiant, +all-triumphant Evil stalks abroad everywhere--and the clergy are as +much affected by it as the laymen. I feel that the world is far more +Christ-less to-day after two thousand years of preaching and +teaching, than it was in the time of Nero. How has this happened? +Whose the fault? Walden, there is only one reply--it is the Church +itself that has failed! The message of salvation,--the gospel of +love,--these are as God-born and true as ever they were,--but the +preachers and teachers of the Divine Creed are to blame,--the men +who quarrel among themselves over forms and ceremonies instead of +concentrating their energies on ministering to others,--and I +confess I find myself often at a loss to dispose Church affairs in +such wise as to secure at one and the same time, peace and +satisfaction amongst the clergy under me, with proper devotion to +the mental and physical needs of the thousands who have a right, yes +a right to expect spiritual comfort and material succour from those +who profess, by their vows of ordination, to be faithful and +disinterested servants of Christ. + +"I daresay you remember how we used to talk religious matters over +when we were young and enthusiastic men, studying for the Church. +You will easily recall the indignation and fervour with which we +repudiated all heresies new and old, and turned our backs with +mingled pity and scorn on every writer of agnostic theories, +estimating such heterodox influences as weighing but lightly in the +balance of belief, and making little or no effect on the minds of +the majority. We did not then grasp in its full measure the meaning +of what is to-day called the 'rush' of life. That blind, brutal +stampede of humanity over every corner and quarter of the earth,--a +stampede which it is impossible to check or to divert, and which +arises out of a nameless sense of panic, and foreboding of disaster! +Like hordes of wild cattle on the prairies, who scent invisible +fire, and begin to gallop furiously headlong anywhere and +everywhere, before the first red gleam of the devouring element +breaks from the undergrowth of dry grass and stubble,--so do the +nations and peoples appear to me to-day. Reckless, maddened, fear- +stricken and reasonless, they rush hither and thither in search of +refuge from themselves and from each other, yet are all the while +driven along unconsciously in heterogeneous masses, as though swept +by the resistless breath of some mysterious whirlwind, impelling +them on to their own disaster. I feel the end approaching, Walden!-- +sometimes I almost see it! And with the near touch of a shuddering +future catastrophe on me, I am often disposed to agree with sad King +Solomon that after all 'there is nothing better for a man than that +he should eat, drink and be merry all the days of his life.' For I +grow tired of my own puny efforts to lift the burden of human sorrow +which is laid upon me, aloft on the fainting wings of prayer, to a +God who seems wholly irresponsive,--mind, Walden, I say seems--so do +not start away from my words and judge me as beginning to weaken in +the faith that formerly inspired me. I confess to an intense fatigue +and hopelessness,--the constant unrelieved consciousness of human +wretchedness weighs me down to the dust of spiritual abasement, for +I can but think that if God were indeed merciful and full of loving- +kindness, He would not, He could not endure the constant spectacle +of man's devilish injustice to his brother man! I have no right to +permit myself to indulge in such reflections as these, I know,--yet +they have gained such hold on me that I have latterly had serious +thoughts of resigning my bishopric. But this is a matter involving +other changes in my life, on which I should like to have some long +friendly talks with you, before taking any decisive step. Your own +attitude of mind towards the 'calling and election' you have chosen +has always seemed to me so pre-eminently pure and lofty, that I +should condemn ray own feelings even more than I do, were I to allow +the twin forces of pessimism and despair to possess me utterly +without an attempt to bring them under your sane and healthful +exorcism, the more so, as you know all my personal history and life- +long sorrow. And this brings me to the main point of my letter which +is, that I should much like to see you, if you can spare me two or +three days of your company any time before the end of August. Try to +arrange an early visit, though I know how ill your parishioners can +spare you, and how more than likely they are to grumble at your +absence. You are to be envied in having secured so much affection +and confidence in the parish you control, and every day I feel more +and more how wisely you have chosen your lot in that comparative +obscurity, which, at one time, seemed to those who know your +brilliant gifts, a waste of life and opportunity. Of course you are +not without jealous enemies,--no true soul ever is. Sir Morton +Pippitt still occasionally sends me a spluttering note of +information as to something you have, or have not done, to the +church on which you have spent the greater part of your personal +fortune; and Leveson, the minister at Badsworth, appears to think +that I should assist him by heading a subscription list to obtain +funds for the purpose of making his church as perfect a gem of +architecture as yours. Due enquiries have been made as to the nature +and needs of his parishioners, and it appears that only twenty--five +adult persons on an average ever attend his ministrations, and that +the building for which he pleads is a brick edifice built in 1870 +and deliberately allowed to decay by disuse and neglect. However, +Sir Morton Pippitt is taking some interest in it, so I am given to +understand,--and perhaps in 'restoring' a modern chapel, he will be +able to console himself for the ruthless manner in which you +stripped off his 'galvanised tin' roof from your old Norman church +walls! + +"I am sorry to hear that the historic house of Abbot's Manor is +again inhabited, and by one who is likely to be a most undesirable +neighbour to you." + +Here Walden, unable to read very quickly at the window, stepped out +on the lawn, still holding the letter close to his eyes. "A most +undesirable neighbour"--he-murmured-"Yes--now let me see!--where is +that phrase?--Oh, here it is,--'a most undesirable neighbour.'" And +he read on:-"I allude to Miss Vancourt, the only child of the late +Robert Vancourt who was killed some years ago in the hunting field. +The girl was taken away at her father's death by her uncle +Frederick, who, having sown an unusual crop of wild oats, had +married one of those inordinately wealthy American women to whom the +sun itself appears little more than a magnified gold-piece--and of +course between the two she has had a very bad training. Frederick +Vancourt was the worst and weakest of the family, and his wife has +been known for years as a particularly hardened member of the +'smart' set. Under their tutelage Miss Vancourt, or 'Maryllia Van,' +as she appears to be familiarly known and called in society, has +attained a rather unenviable notoriety; and when I heard the other +day that she had left her aunt's house in a fit of ungovernable +temper, and had gone to her own old house to live, I thought at once +of you with a pang of pity. For, if I remember rightly, you have a +great opinion of the Manor as an unspoilt relic of Tudor times, and +have always been rather glad that it was left to itself without any +modern improvement or innovation. I can imagine nothing worse to +your mind than the presence of a 'smart' lady in the unsophisticated +village of St. Rest! However, you may take heart of grace, as it is +not likely she will stay there long. Rumour asserts that she is +shortly to be married to Lord Roxmouth,--he who will be Duke of +Ormistoune and owner of that splendid but half-ruined pile, Roxmouth +Castle. She has, it appears, kept this poor gentleman dancing +attendance on her for a sufficient time to make evident to the world +her desire to secure his title, and her present sudden capricious +retirement into country life is understood to be a mere RUSE to draw +him more swiftly on to his matrimonial doom. No doubt he has an eye +on Mrs. Fred Vancourt's millions, which her niece would inherit in +the event of her marrying a future English duke,--still, from what I +gather, he would deserve some compensation for risking his life's +happiness with such a very doubtful partner. But I daresay I am +retailing information with which you are no doubt already quite +familiar, and in all probability 'Maryllia Van' is not likely to +cross your path at any time, as among her other reported +characteristics is that of a cheap scorn for religion,--a scorn +which sits so unbecomingly on our modern women, and forbodes so much +disaster in the future, they being the mothers of the coming race. I +expect the only circumstance likely to trouble your calm and +pleasant routine of life and labour is, that the present occupation +of Abbot's Manor may have stopped some of your romantic rambles in +the beautiful woods surrounding it! May never any greater care +disturb you, my dear fellow!--for even that is one, which, as I have +pointed out to you, will be of brief duration. Let me know when you +think you will be able to come and spend a couple of days here,--and +I will clear my work ahead in order to leave the time free for an +entire unburdening of my soul to you, as in the days of our youth, +so long ago.--Sincerely and affectionately yours, H.A. BRENT." + +Slowly, and with methodical nicety, Walden folded up the letter and +put it in his pocket. With a kind of dazed air he looked about him, +vaguely surprised that the evening seemed to have fallen so soon. +Streaks of the sunset still glowed redly here and there in the sky, +but the dense purple of the night had widened steadily over the +spaces of the air, and just above the highest bough of the apple- +tree on the lawn, the planet Venus twinkled bravely in all its +silver panoply of pride as the Evening Star. Low and sweet on the +fragrant silence came the dulcet piping of a nightingale, and the +soft swishing sound of the river flowing among the rushes, and +pushing against the pebbly shore. A sudden smarting sense of pain +stung Walden's eyes,--pressing them with one hand he found it wet,-- +with tears? No, no!--not with tears,--merely with the moisture of +strain and fatigue,--his sight was not so good as it used to be;--of +course he was getting old,--and Bishop Brent's small caligraphy had +been difficult to decipher by the half-light. All at once something +burning and passionate stirred in him,--a wave of chivalrous +indignation that poured itself swiftly through every channel of his +clean and honest blood, and he involuntarily clenched his hand. + +"What liars there are in the world!" he said aloud and fiercely-- +"What liars!" + +Venus, peeping at him over the apple-boughs, gave out a diamond-like +sparkle as though she were no greater thing than a loving eye,--the +unseen nightingale, tuning its voice to richer certainties, broke +into a fuller, deeper warble,--more stars flew, like shining fire- +flies, into space, and on the lowest line of the western horizon a +white cloud fringed with silver, floated slowly, the noiseless +herald of the coming moon. But Walden saw nothing of the mystically +beautiful transfiguration of the evening into night. His thoughts +were elsewhere. + +"And yet"--he mused sorrowfully--"How do I know? How can I tell? The +clear childlike eyes may be trained to deceive,--the smile of the +sweet, all too sweet mouth, may be insincere--the pretty, impulsive +confiding manner may be a mere trick---and---after all---what is it +to me? I demand of myself plainly and fairly--what is it to me?" + +He gave a kind of unconscious despairing gesture. Was there some +devil in his soul whom he was bound to wrestle with by fasting and +prayer, and conquer in the end? Or was it an angel that had entered +there, before whose heavenly aspect he must kneel and succumb? Why +this new and appalling loneliness which had struck himself and his +home-surroundings as with an earthquake shock, shaking the +foundations of all that had seemed so safe and secure? Why this +feverish restlessness in his mind, which forbade him to occupy +himself with any of the work waiting for him to do, and which made +him unhappy and ill at ease for no visible or reasonable cause? + +He walked slowly across the lawn to his favourite seat under the +apple-tree,--and there, beneath the scented fruiting boughs, with +the evening dews gathering on the grass at his feet, he tried +manfully to face the problem that troubled his own inner +consciousness. + +"Let me brave it out!" he said--"Let me realise and master the +thoughts that seek to master ME, otherwise I am no man, but merely a +straw to be caught by the idle wind of an emotion. Why should I +shirk the analysis of what I feel to be true of myself? For, after +all, it is only a weakness of nature,--a sense of regret and loss,-- +a knowledge of something I have missed in life,--all surely +pardonable if quelled in the beginning. She,--Maryllia Vancourt--is +only at woman,--I am only a man. There is more than at first seems +apparent in that simple qualification 'only'! She, the woman, has +charm, and is instinctively conscious of her power, as why should +she not be?--she has tried it, and found it no doubt in every case +effectual. I, the man, am long past the fervours and frenzies of +life,--and charm, whether it be hers or that of any other of her +sex, should have, or ought to have, no effect upon me, particularly +in my vocation, and with my settled habits. If I am so easily moved +as to be conscious of a certain strange glamour and fascination in +this girl,--for she is a girl to me, nay almost a child,--that is +not her fault, but mine. As well expect the sun not to shine or a +bird not to sing, as expect Maryllia Vancourt not to smile and look +sweet! Walking with her in her rose-garden, where she took me with +such a pretty air of confiding grace, to show me her border of old +French damask roses, I listened to her half-serious, sometimes +playful talk as in a dream, and answered her kindly questions +concerning some of the sick and poor in the village as best I could, +though I fear I must occasionally have spoken at random. Oh, those +old French damask roses! I have known them growing in that border +for years,--yet I never saw them as I saw them to-day,--never looked +they so darkly red and glowing!--so large and open-hearted! I fancy +I shall smell their fragrance all my life! 'Are they doing well, do +you think?'--she said, and the little white chin perked up from +under the pink ribbon which tied her hat, and the dark blue eyes +gleamed drowsily from beneath their drooping lids,--and the lips +parted, smiling--and then--then came the devil and tempted me! I was +no longer middle-aged John Walden, the quiet parson of a country +'cure,'--I was a man unknown to myself,--possessed as it were, by +the ghost of a dead youth, clamouring for youthful joy! I longed to +touch that delicate little pink-and-white creature, so like a rose +herself!--I was moved by an insane desire--yes!--it was insane, and +fortunately quite momentary,--such impulses are not uncommon"--and +here, as he unravelled, to his own satisfaction, the tangled web of +his impressions, his brow cleared, and he smiled gravely,--"I was, I +say, moved by an insane desire to draw that dainty small bundle of +frippery and prettiness into my arms--yes,--it was so, and why +should I not confess it to myself? Why should I be ashamed? Other +men have felt the same, though perhaps they do not count so many +years of life as I do. At any rate with me the feeling was +momentary,--and passed. Then,--some moments later,--under the cedar- +tree she dropped a rose from the cluster she had gathered,--and in +giving it back to her I touched her hand--and our eyes met." + +Here his thoughts became disconnected, and wandered beyond his +control. He let them go,--and listened, instead of thinking, to the +notes of the nightingale singing in his garden. It was now being +answered by others at a distance, with incessant repetitions of a +flute-like warble,--and then came the long sobbing trill and cry of +love, piercing the night with insistant passion. + + "The Bird of Life is singing on the bough, + His two eternal notes of 'I and Thou'-- + O hearken well, for soon the song sings through, + And would we hear it, we must hear it Now." + +A faint tremor shook him as the lines quoted by Cicely Bourne rang +back upon his memory. He rose to go indoors. + +"I am a fool!"--he said--"I must not trouble my head any more about +a summer day's fancy. It was a kind of 'old moonlight in the blood,' +as Hafiz says,--an aching sense of loss,--or rather a touch of the +spring affecting a decaying tree!" He sighed. "I shall not suffer +from it again, because I will not. Brent's letter has arrived +opportunely,--though I think--nay, I am sure, he has been +misinformed. However, Miss Vancourt's affairs have nothing to do +with me,--nor need I interest myself in what is not my concern. My +business is with those who depend on my care,--I must not forget +myself--I must attend to my work." + +He went into the house,--and there was confronted in his own hall by +a big burly figure clad in rough corduroys,--that of Farmer Thorpe, +who doffed his cap and pulled his forelock respectfully at the sight +of him. + +"'Evenin', Passon!" he said--"I thought as 'ow I'd make bold to coom +an' tell ye my red cow's took the turn an' doin' wonderful! Seems a +special mussy of th' A'mighty, an' if there's anythin' me an' my +darter can do fur ye, ye'll let us know, Passon, for I'm darn +grateful, an' feels as 'ow the beast pulled round arter I'd spoke +t'ye about 'er. An' though as ye told me, 'tain't the thing to say +no prayers for beasties which is worldly goods, I makes a venture to +arsk ye if ye'll step round to the farm to-morrer, jest to please +Mattie my darter, an' take a look at the finest litter o' pigs as +ever was seen in this county, barrin' none! A litter as clean an' +sweet as daisies in new-mown hay, an' now's the time for ye to look +at 'em, Passon, an' choose yer own suckin' beast for bilin' or +roastin' which ye please, for both's as good as t'other,--an' there +ain't no man about 'ere what desarves a sweet suckin' pig more'n you +do, an' that I say an' swear to. It's a real prize litter I do +assure you!--an' Mattie my darter, she be that proud, an' all ye +wants to do is just to coom along an' choose your own!" + +"Thank you, Mr. Thorpe!" said Walden with his usual patient +courtesy--"Thank you very much! I will certainly come. Glad to hear +the cow is better. And is Miss Thorpe well?" + +"She's that foine,"--rejoined the farmer--"that only the pigs can +beat 'er! I'll be tellin' 'er you'll coom to-morrer then?" + +"Oh yes--by all means! Certainly! Most kind of you, I'm sure! Good- +evening, Thorpe!" + +"Same t'ye, Passon, an' thank ye kindly!" Whereat John escaped at +last into his own solitary sanctum. + +"My work!" he said, with a faint smile, as he seated himself at his +desk--"I must do my work! I must attend to the pigs as much as +anything else in the parish! My work!" + + + + +XVIII + + +It was the first Sunday in July. Under a sky of pure and cloudless +blue the village of St. Rest lay cradled in floral and foliage +loveliness, with all the glory of the morning sunshine and the full +summer bathing it in floods of living gold. It had reached the +perfect height of its annual beauty with the full flowering of its +orchards and fields, and with all the wealth of colour which was +flung like spray against the dark brown thatched roofs of its +clustering cottages by the masses of roses, red and white, that +clambered as high as the tops of the chimneys, and turning back from +thence, dropped downwards again in a tangle of blossoms, and twined +over latticed windows with a gay and gracious air like garlands hung +up for some great festival. The stillness of the Seventh Day's pause +was in the air,--even the swallows, darting in and out from their +prettily contrived nests under the bulging old-fashioned eaves, +seemed less busy, less active on their bright pinions, and skimmed +to and fro with a gliding ease, suggestive of happy indolence and +peace. The doors of the church were set wide open,--and Adam Frost, +sexton and verger, was busy inside the building, placing the chairs, +as was his usual Sunday custom, in orderly rows for the coming +congregation. It was about half-past ten, and the bell-ringers, +arriving and ascending into the belfry, were beginning to 'tone' the +bells before pealing the full chime for the eleven o'clock service, +when Bainton, arrayed in his Sunday best, strolled with a casual air +into the churchyard, looked round approvingly for a minute or two, +and then with some apparent hesitation, entered the church porch, +lifting his cap reverently as he did so. Once there, he coughed +softly to attract Frost's attention, but that individual was too +much engrossed with his work to heed any lesser sound than the +grating of the chairs he was arranging. Bainton waited patiently, +standing near the carved oaken portal, till by chance the verger +turned and saw him, whereupon he beckoned mysteriously with a +crook'd forefinger. + +"Adam! Hi! A word wi' ye!" + +Adam came down the nave somewhat reluctantly, his countenance +showing signs of evident preoccupation and harassment. + +"What now?" he demanded, in a hoarse whisper-'"Can't ye see I'm +busy?" + +"O' coorse you're busy--I knows you're busy,"--returned Bainton, +soothingly--"I ain't goin' to keep ye back nohow. All I wants to +know is, ef it's true?" + +"Ef what's true?" + +"This 'ere, wot the folks are all a' clicketin' about,--that Miss +Vancourt 'as got a party o' Lunnon fash'nables stayin' at the Manor, +an' that they're comin' to church this marnin'?" + +"True enough!" said Frost--"Don't ye see me a-settin' chairs for 'em +near the poopit? There'll be what's called a 'crush' I can tell ye!- +-for there ain't none too much room in the church at the best o' +times for our own poor folk, but when rich folks comes as well, +we'll be put to it to seat 'em. Mister Primmins, he comes down to me +nigh 'arf an hour ago, an' he sez, sez he: 'Miss Vancourt 'as +friends from Lunnon stayin' with 'er, an' they're comin' to church +this marnin'. 'Ope you'll find room?' An' I sez to 'im, 'I'll do my +best, but there ain't no reserve seats in the 'ouse o' God, an' them +as comes fust gits fust served.' Ay, it's true enough they're a- +comin', but 'ow it got round in the village, I don't know. I ain't +sed a wurrd." + +"Ill news travels fast,"--said Bainton, sententiously, "Mister +Primmins no doubt called on his young 'ooman at the 'Mother Huff' +an' told 'er to put on 'er best 'at. She's a reg'ler telephone tube +for information--any bit o' news runs right through 'er as though +she was a wire. 'Ave ye told Passon Waldon as 'ow Miss Vancourt an' +visitors is a-comin' to 'ear 'im preach?" + +"No,"--replied Adam, with some vigour--"I ain't told 'im nothin'. +An' I ain't goin' to neither!" + +Bainton looked into the crown of his cap, and finding his +handkerchief there wiped the top of his head with it. + +"It be powerful warm this marnin', Adam,"--he said--"Powerful warm +it be. So you ain't goin' to tell Passon nothin',--an' for why, may +I ask, if to be so bold." + +"Look 'ere, Tummas,"--rejoined the verger, speaking slowly and +emphatically--"Passon, 'e be a rare good man, m'appen no better man +anywheres, an' what he's goin' to say to us this blessed Sunday is +all settled-like. He's been thinkin' it out all the week. He knows +what's what. 'Tain't for us,--'tain't for you nor me, to go puttin' +'im out an' tellin' 'im o' the world the flesh an' the devil all a- +comin' to church. Mebbe he'a been a-prayin' to the Lord A'mighty to +put the 'Oly Spirit into 'im, an' mebbe he's got it--just THERE." +And Adam touched his breast significantly. "Now if I goes, or you +goes and sez to 'im: 'Passon, there's fash'nable folks from Lunnon +comin' 'ere to look at ye an' listen to ye, an' for all we kin tell +make mock o' ye as well as o' the Gospel itself in their 'arts'-- +d'ye think he'd be any the better for it? No, Tummas, no! I say +leave Passon alone. Don't upset 'im. Let 'im come out of 'is 'ouse +wise an' peaceful like as he allus do, an' let 'im speak as the +fiery tongues from Heaven moves 'im, an' as if there worn't no +fashion nor silly nonsense in the world. He's best so, Tummas!--you +b'lieve me,--he's best so!" + +"Mebbe--mebbe!" and Bainton twirled his cap round and round +dubiously--"But Miss Vancourt---" + +"Miss Vancourt ain't been to church once till now,"--said Adam,-- +"An' she's only comin' now to show it to her friends. I doesn't want +to think 'ard of her, for she's a sweet-looking little lady an' a +kind one--an' my Ipsie just worships 'er,--an' what my baby likes +I'm bound to like too--but I do 'ope she ain't a 'eathen, an' that +once comin' to church means comin' again, an' reg'lar ever +arterwards. Anyway, it's for you an' me, Tummas, to leave Passon to +the Lord an' the fiery tongues,--we ain't no call to interfere with +'im by tellin' 'im who's comin' to church an' who ain't. Anyone's +free to enter the 'ouse o' God, rich or poor, an 'tain't a world's +wonder if strangers worships at the Saint's Rest as well as our own +folk." + +Here the bells began to ring in perfect unison, with regular rhythm +and sweet concord. + +"I must go,"--continued Adam--"I ain't done fixin' the chairs yet, +an' it's a quarter to eleven. We'll be 'avin 'em all 'ere d'rectly." + +He hurried into the church again just as Miss Eden and her boy-and- +girl 'choir' entered the churchyard, and Bainton seeing them, and +also perceiving in the near distance the slow halting figure of +Josey Letherbarrow, who made it a point never to be a minute late +for divine service, rightly concluded that there was no time now, +even if he were disposed to such a course, to 'warn Passon' that he +would have to preach to 'fashionable folks' that morning. + +"Mebbe Adam's right," he reflected--"An' yet it do worry me a bit to +think of 'im comin' out of 'is garden innercent like an' not knowin' +what's a-waitin' for 'im. For he's been rare quiet lately--seems as +if he was studyin' an' prayin' from mornin' to night, an' he ain't +bin nowhere,--an' no one's bin to see 'im, 'cept that scarecrow- +lookin' chap, Adderley, which HE stayed a 'ole arternoon, jabberin' +an' readin' to 'im. An' what's mighty queer to me is that he ain't +bin fidgettin' over 'is garden like he used to. He don't seem to +care no more whether the flowers blooms or doesn't. Them phloxes up +against the west wall now--a finer show I never seen--an' as for the +lilum candidum, they're a perfect picter. But he don't notice 'em +much, an' he's not so keen on his water-lilies as I thought he would +be, for they're promisin' better this year than they've ever done +before, an' the buds all a-floatin' up on top o' the river just +lovely. An' as for vegetables--Lord!--he don't seem to know whether +'tis beans or peas he 'as--there's a kind o' sap gone out o' the +garden this summer, for all that it's so fine an' flourishin'. +There's a missin' o' somethin' somewheres!" + +His meditations were put to an end by the continuous arrival of all +the villagers coming to church;--by twos and threes, and then by +half dozens and dozens, they filed in through the churchyard, +exchanging brief neighbourly greetings with one another as they +passed quietly into the sacred edifice, where the soft strains of +the organ now began to mingle with the outside chiming of the bells. +Bainton still lingered near the porch, moved by a pardonable +curiosity. He was anxious to see the first glimpse of the people who +were staying at the Manor, but as yet there was no sign of any one +of them, though the time wanted only five minutes to eleven. + +The familiar click of the latch of the gate which divided the church +precincts from the rectory garden, made him turn his head in that +direction, to watch his master approaching the scene of his +morning's ministrations. The Reverend John walked slowly, with +uplifted head and tranquil demeanour, and, as he turned aside up the +narrow path which led to the vestry at the back of the church the +faithful 'Tummas' felt a sudden pang. 'Passon' looked too good for +this world, he thought,--his dignity of movement, his serene and +steadfast eyes, his fine, thoughtful, though somewhat pale +countenance, were all expressive of that repose and integrity of +soul which lifts a man above the common level, and unconsciously to +himself, wins for him the silent honour and respect of all his +fellows. And yet there was a touch of pathetic isolation about him, +too,--as of one who is with, yet not of, the ordinary joys, hopes, +and loves of humanity,--and it was this which instinctively moved +Bainton, though that simple rustic would have been at a loss to +express the sense of what he felt in words. However there was no +more leisure for thinking, if he wished to be in his place at the +commencement of service. The servants from Abbot's Manor were just +entering the churchyard-gates, marshalled, as usual, by the +housekeeper, Mrs. Spruce, and her deaf but ever dutiful husband,-- +and though Bainton longed to ask one of them if Miss Vancourt and +her guests were really coming, he hesitated,--and in that moment of +hesitation, the whole domestic retinue passed into church before +him, and he judged it best and wisest to follow quickly in silence, +lest, when prayers began, his master should note his absence. + +The building was very full,--and it was difficult to see where, if +any strangers did arrive, they could be accommodated. Miss Eden, in +her capacity as organist, was still playing the opening voluntary, +but, despite the fact that there was no apparent disturbance of the +usual order of things, there was a certain air of hushed expectancy +among the people which was decidedly foreign to the normal +atmosphere of St. Rest. The village lasses looked at each other's +hats with keener interest,--the lads fidgeted with their ties and +collars more strenuously, and secreted their caps more +surreptitiously behind their legs,--and the most placid-looking +personage in the whole congregation was Josey Letherbarrow, who, in +a very clean smock, with a small red rose in his buttonhole, and his +silvery hair parted on either side and just touching his shoulders, +sat restfully in his own special corner not far from the pulpit, +leaning on his stick and listening with rapt attention to the fall +and flow of the organ music as it swept round him in soft and ever +decreasing eddies of sound. The bells ceased, and eleven o'clock +struck slowly from the church tower. At the last stroke, the +Reverend John entered the chancel in his plain white surplice, +spotless as new-fallen snow,-and as he knelt for a moment in silent +devotion, the voluntary ended with a grave, long, sustained chord. A +pause,--and then the 'Passon' rose, and faced his little flock, his +hand laid on the open 'Book of Common Prayer.' + +"When the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness that he hath +committed and doeth that which is lawful and right, he shall save +his soul alive." + +Walden's voice rang clear and sonorous,--the sunshine pouring +through the plain glass of the high rose-window behind and above +him, shed effulgence over the ancient sarcophagus in front of the +altar and struck from its alabaster whiteness a kind of double light +which, circling round his tall slight figure made it stand out in +singularly bold relief. + +"If we say that we have no sin we deceive ourselves and the truth is +not in us, but if we confess our sins He is faithful and just to +forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." + +A ripple of gay laughter here echoed in through the church doors, +which were left open for air on account of the great heat of the +day. There was an uneasy movement in the congregation,--some men and +women glanced at one another. That light, careless laughter was +distinctly discordant. The Reverend John drew himself up a little +more rigidly erect, and his face grew a shade paler. Steadily, he +read on:-- + +"Dearly beloved brethren, the Scripture moveth us in sundry places +to acknowledge and confess our manifold sins and wickedness; and +that we should not dissemble nor cloke them before the face of +Almighty God our Heavenly Father, but confess them with an humble, +lowly, penitent and obedient heart---" + +He ceased abruptly. A glimmer of colour,--a soft gliding swish of +silken skirts, an affectation of tip-toe movement up the nave,--a +wave of indescribable artificial perfume,--and then, a general stir +and head-turning among the people showed that a new and unaccustomed +element had suddenly merged into the simple human material whereof +the village of St. Rest was composed,--an element altogether strange +to it, not to say troublous and confusing. Walden saw, and bit his +lips hard,--his hand instinctively clenched itself nervously on the +'Book of Common Prayer.' But his rigid attitude did not relax, and +he remained mute, his eyes fixed steadily on the fashionably dressed +new-comers, who, greatly embarrassed by the interruption their late +entrance had caused,--an interruption emphasised in so marked a +manner by the silence of the officiating minister, made haste to +take the chairs pointed out to them by the verger, with crimsoning +faces and lowered eyelids. It was a new and most unpleasant +experience for them. They did not know, of course, that it was +Walden's habit to pause in whatever part of the service he was +reading if anyone came in late,--to wait till the tardy arrivals +took their places,--and then to begin the interrupted sentence over +again,--a habit which had effectually succeeded in making all his +parishioners punctual. + +But Maryllia, whose guests they were,--Maryllia, who was responsible +as their hostess for bringing them to church at all, and who +herself, with Cicely, was the last to enter after service had begun, +felt a rebellious wave of colour rushing up to her brows. It was +very rude of Mr. Walden, she thought, to stop short in his reading +and cause the whole congregation to turn and stare curiously at +herself and her friends just because they were a little bit behind +time! It exposed them all to public rebuke! And when the stir caused +by their entrance had subsided, she stood up almost defiantly, +lifting her graceful head haughtily, her soft cheeks glowing and her +eyes flashing, looking twenty times prettier even than usual as she +opened her daintily bound prayer-book with a careless, not to eay +indifferent air, as though her thoughts were thousands of miles away +from St. Rest and all belonging to it. Glancing at the different +members of her party, she was glad that one of them at least, Lady +Eva Beaulyon, had secured a front seat, for her ladyship was never +content unless she was well to the foremost of everything. She was a +reigning beauty,--the darling of the society press, and the model of +all aspiring photographers,--and she could hardly be expected to put +up with any obscure corner, even in a church;--if she ever went to +the Heaven of monkish legend, one could well imagine St. Peter +standing aside for her to pass. Close beside her was another +wonderful looking woman, a Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, a 'leader' in +society, who went everywhere, did everything, wore the newest coat, +skirt or hat from Paris directly it was put on the market, and wrote +accounts of herself and her 'smartness' to the American press under +a 'nom-de-plume.' She was not, like Lady Beaulyon, celebrated for +her beauty, but for her perennial youth. Her face, without being in +the least interesting or charming, was smooth and peach-coloured, +without a line of thought or a wrinkle of care upon it. Her eyes +were bright and quite baby-like in their meaningless expression, and +her hair was of the loveliest Titian red. She had a figure which was +the envy of all modellers of dress-stands,--and as she was wont to +say of herself, it would have been difficult to find fault with the +'chic' of her outward appearance. Painters and sculptors would have +found her an affront to nature--but then Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay had +no acquaintance with painters and sculptors. She thought them +'queer' people, with very improper ideas. She was exceedingly put +out by Walden's abrupt pause in his reading of the 'Dearly beloved,' +while she and the other members of the Manor house-party rustled +into their places,--and when he recommenced the exordium she +revenged herself by staring at him quizzically through a long- +handled tortoiseshell-mounted lorgnon. But she did not succeed in +confusing him at all, or in even attracting his attention,--so she +merely shrugged her shoulders, with what the French call an 'air +moqueuse.' + +The momentary confusion caused by the pause in the service soon +passed, and the spirit of calm again settled on the scene after the +'General Confession.' But Maryllia was deeply conscious of hurt and +vexation. It was too bad of Mr. Walden, she kept on. saying to +herself over and over again,--too bad! Her friends and herself were +only five or six minutes late, and to have stopped in his reading of +the service like that to put them all to shame was unkind--'yes, +unkind,' she said in her vexed soul,--vexed all the more because she +was inwardly conscious that Walden was right and herself wrong. She +knew well enough that she could have reached the church at eleven +had she chosen, and have brought her friends punctual to time as +well. She knew it was neither reverent nor respectful to interrupt +divine worship. But she was too irritated to reason the matter out +calmly just then,--all she could think of was that she and her +London guests had received a reproof from the minister of the +parish--silent, but none the less severe--before all the villagers- +before her own servants--and on the first occasion of her coming to +church, too! She could not get over it. + +"If he can see me," she thought, "he will know that I am angry!" + +Chafed little spirit!--as if it mattered to Walden whether she was +angry or not! He saw her well enough,--he noted her face 'red as a +rose,' with its mobile play of expression, set in its frame of +golden-brown hair,--it flitted, sunbeam-like between his eyes and +the 'Book of Common Prayer'--and, when he ceased reading, while the +village choir, rendered slightly nervous by the presence of 'the +quality,' chanted the 'O come let us sing unto the Lord,' he was +conscious of a sudden lassitude, arising, as he knew, from the +strain he had put upon himself for the past few minutes. He was, +however, quite calm and self-possessed when he rose to read the +Lessons of the Day, and the service proceeded as usual in the +perfectly simple, unadorned style of 'that pure and reformed part of +Christ's Holy Catholic Church which is established in this Realm.' +Now and then his attention wandered--once or twice his eyes rested +on the well-dressed group directly opposite to him with a kind of +vague regret and doubt. There was an emotion working in his soul to +which he could scarcely give a name. Instinctively he was conscious +that a certain embarrassment and uneasiness affected the ordinary +members of his congregation,--he knew that their minds were +disquieted and distracted,--that the girls and women were open-eyed +and almost open-mouthed at the sight of the fashionable costumes and +wondrous millinery which the ladies of Miss Vancourt's house-party +wore, and were dissatisfied with their own clothing in consequence,- +-and that the lads and men felt themselves to be awkward, uncouth +and foolish in the near presence of personages belonging to quite +another sphere than their own. He knew that the showy ephemera of +this world had by a temporary fire-fly glitter, fascinated the +simple souls that had been erstwhile glad to dwell for a space on +the contemplation of spiritual and heavenly things. He saw that the +matchless lesson of Christ's love to humanity was scarcely heeded in +the contemplation of how very much humanity was able to do for +itself even without Christ's love, provided it had money and the +devil to 'push' it on! He sighed a little;--and certain words in the +letter of his friend Bishop Brent came back to his memory--"Many +things seem to me hopeless,-utterly irremediable ... I grow tired of +my own puny efforts to lift the burden which is laid upon me." Then +other, and stronger, thoughts came to him, and when the time arrived +to read the Commandments, a rush of passion and vigorous intensity +filled him with a force far greater than he knew. Cicely Bourne said +afterwards that she should never forget the thrill that ran through +her like a shock of electricity, when he proclaimed from the altar:- +-"GOD spake these words and said: Thou shalt have none other gods +but me!" + +Looking up at this moment, she saw Julian Adderley in the aisle on +her left-hand side,--he too was staring at Walden as though he saw +the figure of a saint in a vision. But Maryllia kept her face +hidden, listening in a kind of awe, as each 'Commandment' was, as it +seemed, grandly and strenuously insisted upon by the clear voice +that had no tone of hypocrisy in its whole scale. + +"Thou shalt NOT bear false witness against thy neighbour!" + +Lady Beaulyon forgot to droop her head in the usual studied way +which she knew was so becoming to her,--the NOT was so emphatic. An +unpleasant shiver ran through her daintily-clothed person,--dear +me!--how often and often she had 'borne false witness,' not only +against her neighbour, but against everyone she could think of or +talk about! Where could be the fun of living if you must NOT swear +to as many lies about your neighbour as possible? No spice or savour +would be left in the delicate ragout of 'swagger' society! The +minister of St. Rest was really quite objectionable,--a ranter,--a +noisy, 'stagey' creature!--and both she and Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay +murmured to each other that they 'did not like him.' + +"So loud!" said Lady Beaulyon, breathing the words delicately +against her friend's Titian-red hair. + +"So provincial!" rejoined Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, in the same dulcet +undertone, adding to her remark the fervent--"Lord have mercy upon +us and incline our hearts to keep this law!" + +One very gratifying circumstance to these ladies, however, and one +that considerably astonished all the members of Miss Vancourt's +house-party, as well as Miss Vancourt herself, was that no +'collection' was made. Neither the church, the poor, nor some +distant mission to the heathen served as any excuse for begging, in +the shrine of the 'Saint's Rest.' No vestige of a money-box or +'plate' was to be seen anywhere. And this fact pre-disposed them to +survey Walden's face and figure with critical attention as he left +the chancel and ascended the pulpit during the singing of 'The Lord +is my Shepherd.' At the opening chords of that quaint and simple +hymn, Cicely Bourne glanced at Miss Eden and Susie Prescott with a +little suggestive smile, and caught their appealing glances,--then, +as the quavering chorus of boys and girls began, she raised her +voice as the 'leading soprano,' and like a thread of gold it twined +round all the notes and tied them together in clear and lovely +unison: + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want, + He maketh me down to lie, + In pleasant fields where the lilies grow, + And the river runneth by." + +Everyone in the congregation stared and seemed stricken with sudden +wonderment. Such singing they had never heard before. Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay put up her lorgnon. + +"It's Maryllia Vancourt's creature,"--she whispered--"The ugly child +she picked up in Paris. I suppose it really IS a voice?" + +"It really is, I think!" responded Lady Beaulyon, languidly, turning +her fair head to look at the plain sallow girl with the untidy black +hair whom she had only seen for a few minutes on her arrival at +Abbot's Manor the previous day, and whom she had scarcely noticed. +But Cicely saw her not--her whole soul was in her singing,--and she +had no glance even for Julian Adderley, who, gazing at her as if she +were already the prima donna in an opera, listened enrapt. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; He feedeth me, + In the depth of a desert land; + And, lest I should in the darkness slip, + He holdeth me by the hand." + +Maryllia felt a contraction in her throat, and her eyes +unconsciously filled with tears. How sweet that hymn was!--how very +sweet! Tender memories of her father crowded upon her,--her mother's +face, grown familiar to her sight from her daily visits to the now +no longer veiled picture in the Manor gallery, shone out upon her +from the altar like a glorified angel above the white sarcophagus +where the word 'Resurget' sparkled jewel-like in the sunshine,--and +she began to feel that after all there was something in the +Christian faith that was divinely helpful and uplifting to the soul. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want, + My mind on Him is stayed, + And though through the Valley of Death I walk, + I shall not be afraid!" + +Pure and true rang Cicely's young, fresh and glorious voice, +carrying all the voices of the children with it on the pulsating +waves of the organ chords,--and an impression of high exaltation, +serenity and peace, rested on the whole congregation with the +singing of the last verse-- + + "The Lord is my Shepherd: O Shepherd sweet, + Leave me not here to stray; + But guide me safe to Thy heavenly fold, + And keep me there, I pray! + Amen!" + +During the silence that immediately followed, Walden stood erect in +the pulpit, looking down upon the people. He saw Maryllia's face,-- +he saw all the eyes of her London friends fixed on him with a more +or less critical and supercilious stare,--he saw his own flock' +waiting for his first word with their usual air of respectful +attention,--every small point and detail in his surroundings became +suddenly magnified to his sight,--even the little rose in old Josey +Letherbarrow's smock caught his eye with an almost obtrusive flare. +The blithe soft carol of the birds outside sounded close and loud,-- +the buzzing of a bumble-bee that had found its way into the church +and was now bouncing fussily against a sunlit window, in its efforts +to pass through what seemed to itself clear space, made quite an +abnormal noise. His heart beat heavily,--he fancied he could hear it +thudding in his breast,--then, all at once, an inflow of energy +rushed upon him as though the 'fiery tongues' of which Adam Frost +had spoken, were in very truth descending upon him. Maryllia's face! +There it was--so winsome, so bright, and proud and provocative in +its every feature,--and the old French damask roses growing in her +garden borders could not show a prettier colour than her cheeks! He +lifted his hands. "Let us pray!" + +The villagers all obediently dropped on their knees. The Manor +'house-party' politely bent their heads. + +"Supreme Creator of the Universe, without Whose power and permission +no thought is ever generated in the brain of Thy creature, man; Be +pleased to teach me, Thy unworthy servant, Thy will and law this +day, that I may speak to this congregation even as Thou shalt +command, without any care for myself or my words, but in entire +submission to Thee and Thy Holy Spirit! Amen." + +He rose. The congregation rose with him. Some of the village folks +exchanged uneasy glances with one another. Was their beloved +'Passon' quite himself? He looked so very pale,--his eyes were so +unusually bright,--and his whole aspect so more than commonly +commanding. Almost nervously they fumbled with their Bibles as he +gave out the text:--"The twenty-sixth verse of the sixteenth chapter +of the Gospel according to St. Matthew." + +He paused, and then, as was his usual custom, patiently repeated-- +"The sixteenth chapter of the Gospel according to St. Matthew, +twenty-sixth verse." Again he waited, while the subdued rustling of +pages and turning over of books continued,--and finally pronounced +the words--"What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world +and lose his own soul?" Here he closed the Testament, leaning one +hand upon it. He had resolved to speak 'extempore,' just as the mood +moved him, and to make his discourse as brief as possible,--a mere +twelve minutes' sermon. For he knew that his ordinary congregation +were more affected by a sense of restlessness and impatience than +they themselves realised, and that such strangers as were present +were of a temperament more likely to be bored, than interested. + +"What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world and lose +his own soul?"--he began, slowly, and with emphasis, his eyes +resting steadfastly on the fashionably-attired group of persons +immediately under his observation--"This was one of the questions +put by the Divine Man Christ, to men,--and was no doubt considered +then, as it surely is considered now, a very foolish enquiry. For to +'gain the whole world' is judged as so exceedingly profitable to +most people that they are quite willing to lose everything else they +have in exchange for it. They will gladly barter conscience, +principle, honour and truth to gain 'the whole world'--and as for +the 'soul,' that fine and immortal essence is treated by the +majority as a mere poetic phrase--a figure of speech, without any +real meaning behind it. I know well how some of you here to-day will +regret wasting your time in listening, even for a few minutes, to +anything about so obsolete a subject as the Soul! The Soul! What is +it? A fiction or a fact? How many of us possess a Soul, or THINK we +possess one? Of what is it composed, that it should be judged as so +much more precious than the Body?--the dear Body, which we pamper +and feed and clothe and cosset and cocker, till it struts on the +face of the planet, a mere magnified Ape of conceit and trickery, +sloth and sensuality, the one unforgivable anachronism in an +otherwise perfect Creation! For Body without Soul is a blot on the +Universe,--a distortion and abomination of nature, with which nature +by and by will have nothing to do. Yet I freely grant that while +Soul animates and inspires all creation, man cannot or will not +comprehend it; he may, therefore, in part, be condoned for not +endeavouring to 'save' what he is not taught to truly recognise. To +explain the 'Soul' more clearly, I will refer you all to the Book of +Genesis, where it is written--'And God made man of the dust of the +ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man +became A LIVING SOUL.' Thus we see that 'Soul' is the breath of God, +which is also the Eternal breath of Eternal Life. Each human being +is endowed with this essence of immortality, which cannot die with +death, being, as it is, the embryo of endless lives to come. This is +why it is pre-eminently valuable--this is why we should take heed +that it be not 'lost.' It may be argued--'How can anything be lost +which is eternally alive?' That proposition is easily answered. A +jewel may be 'lost' in the sea, but it is still existent as a jewel. +In the same way a man may 'lose' his Soul, though he can never +destroy it. It is the 'breath of God'--the germ of immortal Life,-- +and if one 'loses' it, another may find it. This is not only +religion,--it is also science. In the present age, when all +imagination, all poetry, all instinctive sense of the divine, is +being subordinated to what we consider as Fact, there is one supreme +mystery which eludes the research of the most acute and pitiless +materialist--and that is life itself,--its origin, its evolution and +its intention. We can do many wonderful things,--but we cannot re- +animate the corpse of a friend! Christ could do this, being Divinity +incarnate,--but we can only wring our hands helplessly, and wonder +where the spirit has fled,--that spirit which made our beloved one +speak to us, smile, and exchange the looks which express the +emotions of the heart more truly than words. We want the 'Soul' we +loved! The inanimate clay, stretched cold in its coffined rest, is a +strange sight to us. We do not know it. It is not our friend! Our +friend was the 'Soul' that lived in the clay,--the 'breath of God' +that moved our own 'Soul' to respond to it in affection and +tenderness. And we instinctively know and feel that though this +breath of God' is gone from us, it cannot be dead. And 'lost' is not +an expression that we would ever apply to it, because we hope and +believe it is 'found'--found by its Creator, and taught to realise +and rejoice in its own immortality. All religion means this,--the +'finding' of the Soul. The passion of our Saviour teaches this,--His +resurrection, His ascension into Heaven, symbolises and expresses +the same thing. Yet, in the words of Christ Himself, it would +nevertheless seem, that the 'Soul' divinely generated and immortal +as it is, can be 'lost' by our own act and will. 'What is a man +profited, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?' I +venture to think the text implies, that in the very attempt to 'gain +the whole world,' the loss of the soul is involved. I am not going +to detain you here this morning with a long exordium concerning how +some of you can and may, if you choose, play havoc with the +priceless gift God baa bestowed upon each one of you. I only desire +to impress upon you all, with the utmost earnestness, that it is +idle to say among yourselves 'We have no souls,' or 'The soul is an +unknown quantity and cannot be proved.' The soul is as and actual a +part of you as the main artery is of the body,--and that you cannot +see it, touch it, or put it under the surgeon's dissecting knife is +no proof that it is not there. You might as well say life itself +does not exist, because you cannot see its primaeval causes or +beginnings. The Soul is the centre of your being,--the compass of +your life-journey,--the pivot round which, whether you will or not, +you shape your actions in this world for the next. If you lose that +mainspring of motive, you lose all. Your conduct, your speech, your +expression in every movement and feature all show the ungoverned and +ungovernable condition in which you are. God is not mocked,--and in +many cases,--taking the grand majority of the human race,--neither +is man!" + +He paused. The congregation was very quiet. He felt, rather than +saw, that Maryllia's eyes were fixed upon him,--and he was perfectly +aware that Lady Beaulyon,--whom he recognised, as he would have +recognised an actress, on account of the innumerable photographs of +her which were on sale in the windows of every stationer in every +moderate-sized town,--was gazing straight up at him with a bright, +mocking glance in which lurked a suspicion of disdain and laughter. +Moved by a sudden impulse, he bent his own regard straight down upon +her with an inflexible cool serenity. An ugly frown puckered her +ladyship's brow at once,--and she lowered her eyelids angrily. + +"I say God is not mocked,"--he continued slowly; "Neither is man! +The miserable human being that has 'lost' his or her Soul, may be +assured that the 'gain' of the whole world in exchange, will prove +but Dead Sea fruit, bitter and tasteless, and in the end wholly +poisonous. Loss of the Soul is marked by moral degradation and +deterioration,--and this inward crumbling and rotting of all noble +and fine feeling into baseness, shows itself on the fairest face,-- +the proudest form. The man who lies against his neighbour for the +sake of worldly convenience or personal revenge, writes the lie in +his own countenance as he utters it. It engraves its mark,--it can +be seen by all who read physiognomy--it says plainly--'Let not this +man be trusted!' The woman who is false and treacherous carries the +stigma on her features, be they never so perfect. The creature of +clay who has lost Soul, likewise lacks Heart,--and the starved, +hopeless poverty of such an one is disclosed in him, even if he be a +world's millionaire. Moreover, 'Soul'--that delicate, divine, +eternal essence, is easily lost. Any earthly passion carried to +excess, will overwhelm it, and sink it in an unfathomable sea. It +can slip away in the pursuit of ambition,--in schemes for self- +aggrandisement,--in the building up of huge fortunes,--in the pomp, +and show, and vanity of mundane things. It flies from selfishness +and sensuality. It can be lost in hate,--it can equally be lost in +love!" + +Again he paused--then went on--"Yes--for even in love, that purest +and most elevating of human emotions, the Soul must have its way +rather than the Body. Loss of the 'Soul' in love, means that love +then becomes the mere corpse of itself, and must needs decay with +all other such dust-like things. In every sentiment, in every +thought, in every hope, in every action, let us find the 'Soul,' and +never let it go! For without it, no great deed can be done, no +worthy task accomplished, no life lived honourably and straightly in +the sight of God. It shall profit us nothing to be famous, witty, +wealthy, or admired, if we are mere stuffed figures of clay without +the 'breath of God' as our animating life principle. The simple +peasant, who has enough 'soul' in him to reverently watch the sunset +across the hills, and think of God as the author of all that +splendour, is higher in the spiritual scale than the learned scholar +who is too occupied with himself and his own small matters to notice +whether it is a sunset or a house on fire. The 'soul' in a man +should be his sense, his sight, his touch, his very inmost and +dearest centre,--the germ of all good,--the generator of all peace +and hope and happiness. It is the one and only thing to foster,--the +one and only thing to save,--the only part of man which, belonging +as it does to God, God will require again. Some of you here present +to-day will perhaps think for a little while on what I have said +when you leave this church,--and others will at once forget it,--but +think, forget, or remember as you choose, the truth remains, that +all of you, young and old, rich and poor, are endowed in your own +selves with the 'making of an angel.' The 'Soul' within you, which +you may elect to keep or to lose, is the infant of Heaven. It +depends on you for care,--for sustenance;--it needs all your work +and will to aid it in growing up to its full stature and perfection. +It shall profit you nothing if you gain the whole world, and at +death have naught to give to your Maker but crumbling clay. Let the +Angel be ready,--the 'Soul' in you prepared, and full-winged for +flight! According to the power and purity with which you have +invested and surrounded it, will be its fate. If you have +voluntarily checked and stunted its aspirations, even so checked and +stunted must be its next probation,--but if you have faithfully done +your best to nourish it with loving thoughts and noble aims,--if you +have given it room to expand and shine forth with all its own +original God-born radiance, then will its ascension to a higher +sphere of action and attainment be attended with unimaginable joy +and glory. Let the world go, rather than lose the Divine Light +within you! For that Light will, and must, attract all that is worth +knowing, worth loving and worth keeping in our actual environment. +The rest can be well spared,--whether it be money, position, +notoriety or social influence,--for none of these things last,--none +of them are in any way precious, save to such ignorant and misguided +persons as are deceived by external shows. The Soul is all! Keep but +that 'breath of God' within you, and the world becomes merely one +step of the ladder on which you may easily mount through everlasting +love upon love, joy upon joy, to the utmost height of Heaven!" + +He ceased. For a moment there was a profound stillness. And then, +with the usual formula--"Now to God the Father, God the Son, and God +the Holy Ghost be praise, honour and glory for ever and ever"--the +congregation stood up. Lady Beaulyon shook her silken skirts +delicately. Mrs. Bludlip Oourtenay put her hand to her back hair +coil and made sure that it was safe. And there was a general stir +and movement, which instantly subsided again, as the people knelt to +receive the parting benediction. Maryllia's eyes were riveted on +Walden as he stretched out his hands;--she was conscious of a +certain vague awe and reverence for this man with whom she had so +casually walked and talked, only as it seemed the other day;--he +appeared, as it were, removed from her by an immeasurable distance,- +-his spirit and hers had gone wide apart,--his was throned upon a +height of noble ideals,--hers was low, low down in a little valley +of worldly nothings,--and oh, how small and insignificant she felt! +Cicely's hand caught hers and gave it an affectionate little +pressure, as they bowed their heads together under the solemnly +pronounced blessing. + +"The peace of God which passeth all understanding, keep your hearts +and minds in the knowledge and love of God, and of His Son Jesus +Christ our Lord,"--here Walden turned ever so slightly towards the +place where Maryllia knelt; "and the blessing of God Almighty, the +Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, be amongst you and remain with +you always!" + +"A---men!" + +With this last response from the choir, the congregation began to +disperse, and Walden, glancing over the little moving crowd, saw the +eager bustle and pressure of all its units to look at 'the ladies +from the Manor' and take stock of their wonderful costumes. The grip +of 'the world' was on them, and the only worshipper remaining +quietly in his place, with hands clasped across his stick, and eyes +closed, was Josey Letherbarrow. The old man seemed to be praying +inwardly--his face was rapt and serene. Walden looked down upon him +very tenderly. A verse of Browning's ran through his mind:-- + + "Grow old along with me! + The best is yet to be, + The last of life for which the first was made. + Our times are in His hand, + Who saith: 'A whole I planned,' + Youth shows but half; trust God; see all, nor be afraid!" + + +And musing on this, he descended slowly from the pulpit and retired. + + + + +XIX + + +Outside in the churchyard, there was a general little flutter of +local excitement. Maryllia lingered there for several minutes, +pointing out the various beauties in the architecture of the church +to her guests, not that these individuals were very much interested +in such matters, for they were of that particular social type which +considers that the highest form of good breeding is to show a polite +nullity of feeling concerning everything and everybody. They were +eminently 'cultured,' which nowadays means pre-eminently dull. Had +they been asked, they would have said that it is dangerous to +express any opinion on any subject,--even on the architecture of a +church. Because the architect himself might be somewhere near,--or +the architect's father, or his mother or his great-grandam--one +never knows! And by a hasty remark in the wrong place and at the +wrong moment, one might make an unnecessary enemy. It is so much +nicer--so much safer to say nothing at all! Of course they looked at +the church,--it would have been uncivil to their hostess not to look +at it, as she was taking the trouble to call their attention to its +various points, and they assumed the usual conventional air of +appreciative admiration. But none of, them understood anything about +it,--and none of them cared to understand. They had not even noticed +the ancient sarcophagus in front of the altar except as 'some odd +kind of sculptured ornament.' When they wore told what it was, they +smiled vacuously, and said: 'How curious!' But further than this +mild and non-aggressive exclamation they did not venture. The +villagers hung about shyly, loth to lose sight of the 'quality';-- +two or three 'county' people lingered also, to stare at, and comment +upon, the notorious 'beauty,' Lady Beaulyon, whose physical charms, +having been freely advertised for some years in the society columns +of the press, were naturally 'on show' for the criticism of Tom, +Dick and Harry,--Mrs. Mandeville Poreham, marshalling her five +marriageable daughters together, stalked magisterially to her +private 'bus, very much en evidence, and considerably put out by the +supercilious gaze and smile of the perfectly costumed Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay,--Julian Adderley, coming up in response to the beckoning +finger of Cicely Bourne, was kindly greeted by Maryllia, introduced +to one or two of her friends, and asked then and there to luncheon, +an invitation he accepted with alacrity, and, after this, all the +Manor party started with their hostess to walk home, leaving the +village and villagers behind them, and discussing as they went, the +morning's service and sermon in the usual brief and desultory style +common to fashionable church-goers. The principal impression they +appeared to have on their minds was one of vague amusement. The +notion that any clergyman should have the 'impudence'--(this was the +word used by Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay)--to pause in the service +because people came in late, touched the very apex of absurdity. + +"So against his own interests too,"--said Lady Beaulyon, carelessly- +-"Because where would all the parsons be if they offended their +patrons?" + +Mr. Bludlip Courtenay, a thin gentleman with a monocle--assented to +this proposition with a "Where indeed!" He considered that clergymen +should not forget themselves,--they should show proper respect +towards those on whom they depended for support. + +"Mr. Walden depends on God for support, I believe,"--said Cicely +Bourne suddenly. + +Mr. Bludlip Courtenay fixed his monocle firmly in his left eye and +stared at her. + +"Really!" he drawled dubiously--"You surprise me!" + +"It IS funny, isn't it?" pursued Cicely--"So unlike the Apostles!" + +Maryllia smiled. Lady Beaulyon laughed outright. + +"Are you trying to be satirical, you droll child?" she enquired +languidly. + +"Oh no, I'm not trying,"--replied Cicely, with a quick flash of her +dark eyes--"It comes quite easy! You were talking about clergymen +offending their patrons. Now Mr. Walden hasn't got any patron to +offend. He's his own patron." "Has he purchased the advowson, +then?" enquired Mr. Courtenay--"Or, to put it more conventionally, +has he obtained it through a friend at court?" + +"I don't know anything about the how or the why or the when,"--said +Cicely--"But I know he owns the living and the church. So of course +if he chooses to show people what he thinks of them when they come +in to service late, he can do it. If they don't like it, he doesn't +care. He doesn't ask anybody for anything,--he doesn't even send +round a collection plate." + +"No--_I_ noticed that!--awfully jolly!"--said a good-natured looking +man who had been walking beside Julian Adderley,--a certain Lord +Charlemont whose one joy in life was motoring--"Awfully game! Ought +to make him quite famous!" + +"It ought,--it ought indeed!" agreed Adderley--"I do not suppose +there is another clergyman in England who obliterates the plate from +the worship of the Almighty! It is so remote--so very remote!" + +"I think he's a funny sort of parson altogether,"--said Cicely +meditatively--"He doesn't beg, borrow or steal,--he isn't a toady, +he isn't a hypocrite, and he speaks his mind. Queer, isn't it?" + +"Very!" laughed Lord Charlemont--"I don't know another like him, +give you my word!" + +"Well, he can't preach,"--said Lady Beaulyon, decisively--"I never +heard quite such a stupid sermon." + +All the members of the house-party glanced at one another to see if +this verdict were generally endorsed. Apparently some differed in +opinion. + +"Didn't you like it, Eva?" asked Maryllia. + +"My dear child! Who COULD like it! Such transcendental stuff! And +all that nonsense about the Soul! In these scientific days too!" + +"Ah science, science!" sighed Mr. Bludlip Courtenay, dropping his +monocle with a sharp click against his top waistcoat button--"Where +will it end?" + +Nobody volunteered a reply to this profound proposition. + +"'Souls' are noted for something else than being saved for heaven +nowadays, aren't they, Lady Beaulyon?" queried Lord Charlemont, with +a knowing smile. + +Lady Beaulyon's small, rather hard mouth tightened into a thin line. + +"I really don't know!"--she said carelessly--"If you mean the social +'Souls,' they are rather unconventional certainly, and not always +discreet. But they are generally interesting--much more so, I should +think, than such 'Souls' as the parson preached about just now." + +"Indeed, yes!" agreed Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay--"I can imagine nothing +more tiresome than to be a Soul without a Body, climbing from height +to height of a heaven where there is no night, no sleep, no rest for +ever and ever. Simply dreadful! But there!--one only goes to church +for form's sake--just as an example to one's servants--and when it's +done, don't you think it's best to forget it as soon as possible?" + +She raised her baby eyes appealingly as she put the question. + +Everybody laughed, or rather sniggered. Real honest laughter is not +considered 'good form' by certain sections of society. A gentle +imitation of the nanny-goat's bleat is the most seemly way for +cultured persons to give vent to the expression of mirth. Maryllia +alone was grave and preoccupied. The conversation of her guests +annoyed her, though in London she had been quite well accustomed to +hear people talk lightly and callously of religion and all religious +subjects. Yet here, in the quiet country, things were different, +somehow. God seemed nearer,--it was more difficult to blaspheme and +ignore Him. And there was a greater sense of regret and humiliation +in one's self for one's own lack of faith. Though, at the same time, +it has to be reluctantly conceded that in no quarter of the world is +religious hypocrisy and sham so openly manifested as in the English +provinces, and especially in the small towns, where, notwithstanding +the fact that all the Sundays are passed in persistent church and +chapel going, the result of this strenuous sham piety is seen in the +most unchristian back-biting and mischief-making on every week-day. + +But St. Rest was not a town. It was a tiny village apart,--utterly +free from the petty pretensions of its nearest neighbour, +Riversford, which considered itself almost 'metropolitan' on account +of its modern red-brick and stucco villas into which its trades- +people 'retired' as soon as they had made enough money to be able to +pretend that they had never stood behind a counter in their lives. +St. Rest, on the contrary, was simple in its tastes,--so simple as +to be almost primitive, particularly in its religious sentiments, +which the ministry of John Walden had, so far, kept faithful and +pure. Its atmosphere was therefore utterly at variance with the +cheap atheism of the modern world, and it was this discordancy which +struck so sharply on Maryllia's emotional nature and gave her such a +sense of unaccustomed pain. + +At the Manor there were a few other visitors who had not attended +church,--none of them important, except to themselves and the +society paragraphist,--none of them distinguished as ever having +done anything particularly good, or useful in the world,--and none +of them possessing any very unconventional characteristics, with the +exception of two very quaint old ladies, who were known somewhat +irreverently among their acquaintances as the 'Sisters Gemini.' They +were of good birth and connection, but, being cast adrift as wrecks +on the shores of Time,--the one as a widow, the other as a +spinster,--had sworn eternal friendship on the altar of their +several disillusioned and immolated affections. In the present day +we are not overtroubled by any scruples of reverence for either old +widowhood or old spinsterhood; and the 'Sisters Gemini' had become a +standing joke with the self-styled 'wise and witty' of London +restaurants and late suppers. Lady Wicketts and Miss Fosby were +their actual names, and they were happily unconscious of the +unfeeling sobriquet bestowed upon them when they were out of +hearing. Lady Wicketts had once been a reigning 'beauty,' and she +lived on the reputation of that glorious past. Miss Fosby aided and +abetted her in this harmless self-deception. Lady Wicketts had been +painted by all the famous artists of her era, from the time of her +seventeeth birthday to her thirtieth. She had been represented as a +'Shepherdess,' a 'Madonna,' a 'Girl with Lilies,' a 'Lady with a +Greyhound,' a 'Nymph Sleeping,' and more briefly and to the +purpose, as 'Portrait of Lady Wicketts,' in every exhibition of +pictures that had been held during her youth and prime. Miss Fosby +carried prints and photographs of these works of art everywhere +about with her. She would surprise people by casually taking one of +them out of her album and saying softly "Isn't that beautiful?" + +And then, if the beholders fell into the trap and uttered +exclamations of rapture at the 'Shepherdess' or the 'Madonna,' or +whatever allegorical subject it happened to be, she would smile +triumphantly and say-'Lady Wicketts!'--to all appearance enjoying +the violent shock of incredulous amazement which her announcement +invariably inflicted on all those who received it. + +"Not possible!" they would murmur--"Lady Wicketts---!" + +"Yes,--Lady Wicketts when she was young,"--Miss Fosby would say +mildly--"She was very beautiful when she was twenty. She is sixty- +seven now. But she is still beautiful,--don't you think so? She has +such an angelic expression! And she is so good--ah!--so very goodl +There is no one like Lady Wicketts!" + +All this was very sweet and touching on the part of Miss Fosby, so +far as Miss Fosby alone was concerned. To her there was but one +woman in the world, and that was Lady Wicketts. But the majority of +people saw Lady Wicketts in quite another light. They knew she had +been, in her time, as unprincipled as beautiful, and that she had +'gone the pace' more openly than most of her class. They beheld her +now without spectacles,--an enormously fat woman, with a large round +flaccid face, scarred all over by Time's ploughshare with such deep +furrows that one might have sown seed in them and expected it to +grow. + +But Miss Fosby still recognised the 'Shepherdess,' the 'Madonna' and +the 'Girl with Lilies,' in the decaying composition of her friend, +and Miss Fosby was something of a bore in consequence, though the +constancy of her devotion to a totally unworthy object was quaintly +pathetic in its way. The poor soul herself was nearer seventy than +sixty, and she was quite as lean as her idol was fat,--she had never +been loved by anyone in all her life, but,--in her palmy days,--she +had loved. And the necessity of loving had apparently remained a +part of her nature, otherwise it would have been a sheer +impossibility for her to have selected so strange a fetish as Lady +Wicketts for her adoration. Lady Wicketts did not, in any marked +way, respond to Miss Fosby's tenderness,--she merely allowed herself +to be worshipped, just as in her youth she had allowed scores of +young bloods to kiss her hand and murmur soft nothings in her then +'shell-like' ear. The young bloods were gone, but Miss Fosby +remained. Better the worship of Miss Fosby than no worship at all. +Maryllia had met these two old ladies frequently at various +Continental resorts, when she had travelled about with her aunt,-- +and she had found something amusing and interesting in them both, +especially in Miss Fosby, who was really a good creature,--and when +in consultation with Cicely as to who, among the various people she +knew, should be asked down to the Manor and who should not, she had +selected them as a set-off to the younger, more flippant and casual +of her list, and also because they were likely to be convenient +personages to play chaperones if necessary. + +For the rest, the people were of the usual type one has got +accustomed to in what is termed 'smart' society nowadays,--listless, +lazy, more or less hypocritical and malicious,--apathetic and +indifferent to most things and most persons, save and except those +with whom unsavoury intrigues might or would be possible,--sneering +and salacious in conversation, bitter and carping of criticism, +generally blase, and suffering from the incurable ennui of utter +selfishness,--the men concentrating their thoughts chiefly on +racing, gaining, and Other Men's Wives,--the women dividing all +their stock of emotions between Bridge, Dress, and Other Women's +Husbands. And when Julian Adderley, as an author in embryo, found +himself seated at luncheon with this particular set of persons, all +of whom were more or less well known in the small orbit wherein they +moved, he felt considerably enlivened and exhilarated. Life was +worth living, he said to himself, when one might study at leisure +the little tell-tale lines of vice and animalism on the exquisite +features of Lady Beaulyon, and at the same time note admiringly how +completely the united forces of massage and self-complacency had +eradicated every wrinkle from the expressionless countenance of Mrs. +Bludlip Courtenay. These two women were, in a way, notorious as +'leaders' of their own special coteries of social scandalmongers and +political brokers; Lady Beaulyon was known best among Jew +financiers; Mrs. Courtenay among American 'Kings' of oil and steel. +Each was in her own line a 'power,'--each could coax large advances +of money out of the pockets of millionaires to further certain +'schemes' which were vaguely talked about, but which never came to +fruition,--each had a little bevy of young journalists in +attendance,--press boys whom they petted and flattered, and +persuaded to write paragraphs concerning their wit, wisdom and +beauty, and how they 'looked radiant in pink' or 'dazzling in pea +green.' Contemplating first one and then the other of these ladies, +Julian almost resolved to compose a poem about them, entitled 'The +Sirens' and, dividing it into Two Cantos, to dedicate the First +Canto to Lady Beaulyon and the Second to Mrs. Courtenay. + +"It would be so new--so fresh!" he mused, with a bland anticipation +of the flutter such a work might possibly cause among society dove- +cots--"And if ALL the truth were told, so much more risque than 'Don +Juan'!" + +Glancing up and down, and across the hospitable board, exquisitely +arranged with the loveliest flowers and fruit, and the most +priceless old silver, he noticed that every woman of the party was +painted and powdered except Maryllia, and her young protegee, +Cicely. The dining-room of Abbot's Manor was not a light apartment,- +-its oak-panelled walls and raftered ceiling created shadow rather +than luminance,--and though the windows were large and lofty, rising +from the floor to the cornice, their topmost panes were of very old +stained glass, so that the brightest sunshine only filtered, as it +were, through the deeply-encrusted hues of rose and amber and +amethyst squares, painted with the arms of the Vancourts, and +heraldic emblems of bygone days. Grateful and beautiful indeed was +this mysteriously softened light to the ladies round the table,--and +for a brief space they almost LOVED Maryllia. For HER face was +flushed, and quite uncooled by powder--'like a dairymaid's--she will +get so coarse if she lives in the country always!' Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay confided softly to Lord Charlemont, who vaguely murmured-- +'Ah! Yes! I daresay!' quite without any idea of what the woman was +talking about. Maryllia's pretty hair too was ruffled, she having +merely taken off her hat in the hall on her return from church, +without troubling to go up to her room and 'touch up' her appearance +as all the other ladies who had suffered from walking exercise had +done,--and her eyes looked just a trifle tired. Adderley found her +charming with this shade of fatigue and listlessness upon her,--more +charming than in her most radiant phases of vivacity. Her peach-like +skin, warmed as it was by the sun, was tinted with Nature's own +exquisite colouring, and compared most favourably with the cosmetic +art so freely displayed by her female friends on either side of her. +Julian began to con verses in his head, and he recalled the lines of +seventeeth-century Eichard Crashaw:-- + + "A Face that's best + By its own beauty drest, + And can alone command the rest." + +And he caught himself wondering why,--whenever he came near the Lady +of the Manor,--he was anxious to seem less artificial, less +affected, and more of a man than his particular 'Omar Kayyam' set +had taught him to be. The same praiseworthy desire moved him in the +company of John Walden, therefore sex could have nothing to do with +it. Was it 'Soul'?--that 'breath of God' which had been spoken of in +the pulpit that morning? + +He could not, however, dwell upon this rather serious proposition at +luncheon, his thoughts being distracted by the conversation, if +conversation it could be called, that was buzzing on either side of +the table, amidst the clattering of plates and the popping of +champagne corks. It was neither brilliant, witty nor impersonal,-- +brilliant, witty and impersonal talk is never generated in modem +society nowadays. "I would much rather listen to the conversation of +lunatics in the common room of an asylum, than to the inane gabble +of modern society in a modern drawing-room"--said a late +distinguished politician to the present writer--"For the lunatics +always have the glimmering of an idea somewhere in their troubled +brains, but modern society has neither brains nor ideas." +Fragmentary sentences, often slangy, and occasionally ungrammatical, +seemed most in favour with the Manor 'house-party,'--and for a time +splinters of language flew about like the chips from dry timber +under a woodman's axe, without shape, or use, or meaning. It was a +mere confused and senseless jabber--a jabber in which Maryllia took +no part. She sat very quietly looking from one face to the other at +table with a critical interest. These were the people she had met +every day more or less in London,--some of them had visited her aunt +constantly, and had invited her out to dinners and luncheons, 'at +homes,' balls and race parties, and all were considered to be 'very +select' in every form that is commended by an up-to-date +civilisation. Down here, in the stately old-world surroundings of +Abbot's Manor, they looked very strange to her,--nay, even more than +strange. Clowns, columbines and harlequins with all their 'make-up' +on, could not have seemed more out of place than these socially +popular persons in the historic house of her ancestors. Lady +Beaulyon was perhaps the most remarkable 'revelation' of the whole +company. Maryllia had always admired Eva Beaulyon with quite an +extravagant admiration, on account of her physical charm and grace,- +-and had also liked her sufficiently well to entirely discredit the +stories that were rife about the number of her unlawful amours. That +she was an open flirt could not be denied,--but that she ever +carried a flirtation beyond bounds, Maryllia would never have +believed. Now, however, a new light seemed thrown upon her--there +was a touch of something base in her beauty--a flash of cruelty in +her smile--a hardness in her eyes. Maryllia looked at her wistfully +now and then, and was half sorry she had invited her, the +disillusion was so complete. + +The luncheon went on, and was soon over, and coffee and cigarettes +were served. All the women smoked with the exception of Maryllia, +Cicely and old Miss Fosby. The rings of pale blue vapour circled +before Maryllia's eyes in a dim cloud,--she had seen the same kind +of mixed smoking going on before, scores of times, and yet now--why +was it that she felt vaguely annoyed by a sense of discrepancy and +vulgarity She could not tell. Cicely watched her lovingly,--and +every now and again Julian Adderley, waving away the smoke of his +own cigar with one hand, studied her face and tried to fathom its +expression. She spoke but little, and that chiefly to Lord +Charlemont who was on her left-hand side. + +"And how long are you going to stay in this jolly old place, Miss +Vancourt?" he asked. + +"All my life, I hope,"--she said with a little smile--"It is my own +home, you know." + +"Oh yes!--I know!--but--" he hesitated for a moment; "But your aunt- +--" + +"Aunt Emily and I don't quite agree,"--said Maryllia, quietly--"She +has been very kind to me in the past,--but since Uncle Fred's death, +things have not been just as pleasant. You see, I speak frankly. +Besides I'm getting on towards thirty,--it's time I lived my own +life, and tried to do something useful." + +Charlemont laughed. + +"You look more like eighteen than thirty,"--he said--"Why give +yourself away?" + +"Is that giving myself away?" and she raised her eyebrows +quizzically--"I'm not thirty yet--I'm twenty-seven,--but that's old +enough to begin to take things seriously. I've made up my mind to +live here at Abbot's Manor and do all I can for the tenantry and the +village generally--I'm sure I shall be perfectly happy." "How about +getting married?" he queried. + +Her blue eyes darkened with a shade of offence. + +"The old story!" she said--"Men always think a woman must be married +to be happy. It doesn't at all follow. I know heaps and heaps of +married women, and they are in anything but an enviable state. I +would not change with one of them!" + +"Would you like to be another Miss Fosby?" he suggested in a +mirthful undertone. + +She smiled. + +"Well--no! But I would rather be Miss Fosby than Lady Wicketts!" + +Here she rose, giving the signal for general adjournment to the +drawing-room. The windows of this apartment were set open, and a +charming garden vista of lawn and terraee and rose-walk opened out +before the eyes. + +"Now for Bridge!" said Lady Beaulyon--"I'm simply dying for a game!" + +"So am I!" declared Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay--"Lord Charlemont, you'll +play?" + +"Charmed, I'm sure!" was the ready response. "Where shall we put the +card tables? Near the window? Such an enjoyable prospect!" + +"We'll have two tables, or even three,"--said Lady Beaulyon; "I +suppose most of us will play?" + +"Oh yes!" "Why of course!" "I should think so!" "Just what we're all +longing for!" Such were the expressions of general delight and +acceptance chorussed by the whole party. + +"You'll join, Lady Wicketts?" + +"With pleasure!" and Lady Wicketts' sunken old eyes gleamed with an +anxious light over the furrows of flesh which encircled them, as she +promptly deserted Miss Fosby, who had been sitting next to her, for +the purpose of livelier entertainment;--and in a moment there was a +general gathering together in the wide embrasure of the window nook, +and an animated discussion as to who should play Bridge and who +should not. Maryllia watched the group silently. There were varying +shades of expression on her mobile features. She held Cicely's hand +in her own,--and was listening to some of Adderley's observations on +quite ordinary topics, when suddenly, with, an impulsive movement, +she let Cicely go, and with an 'Excuse me!' to Julian, went towards +her guests. She had made a resolve;--it would be an attempt to swim +against the social current, and it was fraught with difficulty and +unpleasantness,--yet she was determined to do it. "If I am a coward +now," she thought--"I shall never be brave!" Her heart beat +uncomfortably, and she could feel the blood throbbing nervously in +her veins, as she bent her mind to the attitude she was about to +take up, regardless of mockery or censure. Scraps of the window +conversation fell on her ears--"I won forty pounds last Wednesday,-- +it just paid my boot-bill!" said one young woman, laughing +carelessly. + +"Luckier than me!" retorted a man next to her--"I had to pay a +girl's losses to the tune of a hundred. It's all right though!" And +he grinned suggestively. + +"Is she pretty?" + +"Ripping!" + +"I want to make up five hundred pounds this week," observed Mrs. +Bludlip Courtenay, in the most serious and matter-of-fact way--"I've +won it all but a hundred and fifty." + +"Good for you!" + +"Rather!" said Lord Charlemont, nodding approval--"I'd like to get +you for a partner!" + +"I AM considered lucky,"--smiled Mrs. Courtenay, with an air of +virtuous pride--"I always win SOMETHING!" + +"Well, let's begin at once,--we'll play all the afternoon." said +Lady Beaulyon. + +"Where are the tables?" "AND the cards?" + +"Ask Maryllia---" + +But at that moment Maryllia stepped gently into their midst, her +eyes shining, her face very pale. + +"Not on Sunday, please!" she said. + +A stillness fell upon them all. They gazed upon each other in sheer +stupefaction. Lady Beaulyon smiled disdainfully. + +"Not on Sunday? What are you talking about, Maryllia? Not WHAT on +Sunday?" + +"Not Bridge,"--replied Maryllia, in her clear soft voice--"I do not +allow it." + +Fresh glances of wonderment were exchanged. The men hummed and hawed +and turned themselves about on their heels--the women simply stared. +Lady Beaulyon burst out laughing. + +"Ridiculous!" she exclaimed,--then flushed, and bit her lip, knowing +that such an ejaculation was scarcely civil to her hostess. But +Maryllia took no offence. + +"Pray do not think me discourteous,"--she said, very sweetly. "I +would not interfere with your pleasure in any way if I could +possibly help it. But in this instance I really must do so." + +"Oh certainly, Miss Vancourt!" "We would not think of playing if you +do not wish it!" These, and similar expressions came from Lord +Charlemont, and one or two others. + +"My dear Maryllia," said Mrs. Courtenay, reproachfully--"You are +really VERY odd! I have myself seen you playing Bridge, Sunday after +Sunday at your aunt's house in London. Why should you now suddenly +object to your friends doing what you have so often done yourself?" + +Maryllia flushed a pretty rose-red. + +"In my aunt's house I had to do as my aunt wished, Mrs. Courtenay," +she said--"In my own house I do as _I_ wish!" + +Here her face relaxed into a bright smile, as she raised her candid +blue eyes to the men standing about her--"I'm sure you won't mind +amusing yourselves with something else than cards, just for one day, +will you? Come into the garden,--it's such a perfect afternoon! The +rose-walk just opposite leads down to the bank of the river,--would +some of you like to go on the water? There are two boats ready there +if you would. And do forgive me for stopping your intended game!-- +you can play Bridge every day in the week if you like, but spare the +Sunday!" + +There was a brief awkward pause. Then Eva Beaulyon turned her back +indifferently on the whole party and stepped out on the lawn. She +was followed by Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, and both ladies gave vent to +small smothered bleats of mocking laughter as they sauntered across +the grass side by side. But Maryllia did not care. She had carried +her point, and was satisfied. The Sunday's observance in Abbot's +Manor, always rigorously insisted upon by her father, would not be +desecrated by card-playing and gambling under his daughter's sway. +That was enough for her. A serene content dwelt in her eyes as she +watched her guests disperse and scatter themselves in sections of +twos and threes all over the garden and grounds--and she said the +pleasantest and kindest things when any of them passed her on their +way, telling them just where to find the prettiest nooks, and where +to pick the choicest fruit and flowers. Lord Charlemont watched her +with a sense of admiration for her 'pluck.' + +"By Jove!" he thought--"I'd rather have fronted the guns in a +pitched battle than have forbidden my own guests to play Bridge on +Sunday! Wants nerve,--upon my soul it does!--and the little woman's +got it--you bet she has!" Aloud he said-- + +"I'm awfully glad to be let off Bridge, Miss Vancourt! A day's +respite is a positive boon!" + +"Do you play it so often, then?" she asked gently. He flushed +slightly. + +"Too often, I'm afraid! But how can I help it? One must do something +to kill time!" + +"Poor Time!" said Maryllia, with a smile--"Why should he be killed? +I would rather make much of him while I have him!" + +Charlemont did not answer. He lit a cigar and strolled away by +himself to meditate. + +Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay just then re-entered the drawing-room from +the garden, fanning herself vigorously with her handkerchief. + +"It is so frightfully warm!" she complained--"Such a burning sun! So +bad for the skin! They are picking strawberries and eating them off +the plants--very nice, I daresay--but quite messy. Eva Beaulyon and +two of the men have taken a boat and gone on the water. If you don't +mind, Maryllia, I shall rest and massage till dinner." + +"Pray do so!" returned Maryllia, kindly, smiling, despite herself; +Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay's life was well-nigh, spent in 'massage' and +various other processes for effacing the prints of Time from her +carefully guarded epidermis--"But I was just going to ask Cicely to +play us something. Won't you wait five minutes and hear her?" + +Mrs. Courtenay sighed and sank into a chair. Nothing bored her so +utterly as music,--but as it was only for 'five minutes,' she +resigned herself to destiny. And Cicely, at a sign from Maryllia, +went to the piano and played divinely,--wild snatches of Polish and +Hungarian folk-songs, nocturnes and romances, making the instrument +speak a thousand things of love and laughter, of sorrow and death,-- +till the glorious rush of melody captivated some of the wanderers in +the garden and brought them near the open window to listen. When she +ceased, there was a little outbreak of applause, and Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay rose languidly. + +"Yes, very nice!" she said--"Very nice indeed! But you know, +Maryllia, if you would only get one of those wonderful box things +one sees advertised so much in the papers, the pianista or mutuscope +or gramophone--no, I THINK it's pianola, but I'm not quite sure--you +would save such a lot of study and brain-work for this poor child! +And it sounds quite as well! I'm sure she could manage a gramophone +thing--I mean pianista--pianola--quite nicely for you when you want +any music. Couldn't you, my dear?" + +And she gazed at Cicely with a bland kindliness as she put the +question. Cicely's eyes sparkled with fun and satire. + +"I'm sure I could!" she declared, with the utmost seriousness--"It +would be delightful! Just like organ-grinding, only much more so! I +should enjoy it of all things! Of course one ought NEVER to use the +brain in music!" + +"Not nowadays,"--said Mrs. Courtenay, with conviction--"Things have +improved so much. Mechanism does everything so well. And it is SUCH +a pity to use up one's vital energy in doing what one of those box- +things can do better. And do you too play music?" + +And she addressed herself to Adderley who happened to be standing +near her. He made one of his fantastic salutes. + +"Not I, madam! I am merely a writer,--one who makes rhymes and +verses---" + +Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay waved him away with a hand on which at least +five diamond rings sparkled gorgeously. + +"Oh dear! Don't come near me!" she said, with a little affected +laugh--"I simply HATE poetry! I'm so sorry you write it! I can't +think why you do. Do you like it?--or are you doing it for somebody +because you must?" + +Julian smiled, and ran his fingers through his hair, sticking it up +rather on end, much to Mrs. Courtenay's abhorrence. + +"I like it more than anything else in the world!" he said. "I'm +doing it quite for myself, and for nobody else." + +"Really!"--and Mrs. Courtenay gave him a glance of displeased +surprise--"How dreadful!" Here she turned to Maryllia. "Au revoir, +my dear, for the present! As you won't allow any Bridge, I'm going +to sleep. Then I shall do massage for an hour. May I have tea in my +own room?" + +"Certainly!" said Maryllia. + +"Thanks!" She glided out, with a frou-frou of her silken skirts and +a trail of perfume floating after her. + +The three she left behind her exchanged amused glances. + +"Wonderful woman!" said Adderley,--"And, no doubt, a perfectly happy +one!" + +"Why of course! I don't suppose she has ever shed a tear, lest it +should make a wrinkle!" And Cicely, as she made these remarks, +patted her own thin, sallow cheeks consolingly. "Look at my poor +face and hers! Mine is all lined and puckered with tears and sad +thoughts--SHE hasn't a wrinkle! And I'm fourteen, and she's forty! +Oh dear! Why did I cry so much over all the sorrow and beauty of +life when I was young!" + +"Ah--and why didn't you have a pianista-pianola!" said Adderley. +They all laughed,--and then at Maryllia's suggestion, joined the +rest of the guests in the garden. + +That same evening when Maryllia was dressing for dinner, there came +a tap at her bedroom door, and in response to her 'Come in!' Eva +Beaulyon entered. + +"May I speak to you alone for a minute?" she said. + +Maryllia assented, giving a sign to her maid to leave the room. + +"Well, what is it, Eva?" said Maryllia, when the girl had gone-- +"Anything wrong?" + +Eva Beaulyon sank into a chair somewhat wearily, and her beautiful +violet eyes, despite artistic 'touching up' looked hard and tired. + +"Not so far as I am concerned,"--she said, with a little mirthless +laugh--"Only I think you behaved very oddly this afternoon. Do you +really mean that you object to Bridge on Sundays, or was it only a +put on?" + +"It was a put off!" responded Maryllia, gaily--"It stopped the +intended game! Seriously, Eva, I meant it and I do mean it. There's +too much Bridge everywhere--and I don't think it necessary,--I don't +think it even decent--to keep it going on Sundays." + +"I suppose the parson of your parish has told you that!" said Lady +Beaulyon, suddenly. + +Maryllia's eyes met hers with a smile. + +"The parson of the parish has not presumed to dictate to me on my +actions,"--she said--"I should deeply resent it if he did." + +"Well, he had no eyes for anyone but you in the church this morning. +A mole could have seen that in the dark. He was preaching AT us and +FOR you all the while!" + +A slight flush swept over Maryllia's cheeks,--then she laughed. + +"My dear Eva! I never thought you were imaginative! The parson has +nothing whatever to do with me,--why, this is the first Sunday I +have ever been to his church,--you know I never go to church." + +Lady Beaulyon looked at her narrowly, unconvinced. + +"What have you left your aunt for?" she asked. + +"Simply because she wants me to marry Roxmouth, and I won't!" said +Maryllia, emphatically. + +"Why not?" + +"First, because I don't love him,--second, because he has slandered +me by telling people that I am running after his title, to excuse +himself for running after Aunt Emily's millions; and lastly, but by +no means leastly, because he is--unclean." + +"All men are;" said Eva Beaulyon, drily--"It's no use objecting to +that!" + +Maryllia made no remark. She was standing before her dressing-table, +singing softly to herself, while she dexterously fastened a tiny +diamond arrow in her hair. + +"I suppose you're going to try and 'live good' down here!"--went on +Lady Beaulyon, after a pause--"It's a mistake,--no one born of human +flesh and blood can do it. You can't 'live good' and enjoy +yourself!" + +"No?" said Maryllia, tentatively. + +"No, certainly not! For if you never do anything out of the humdrum +line, and never compromise yourself in any way, Society will be so +furious with your superiority to itself that it will invent a +thousand calumnies and hang them all on your name. And you will +never know how they arise, and never be able to disprove them." + +"Does it matter?"--and Maryllia smiled--"If one's conscience is +clear, need one care what people say?" + +"Conscience!" exclaimed Lady Beaulyon--"What an old-fashioned +expression! Surely it's better to do something people can lay hold +of and talk about, than have them invent something you have never +done! They will give you no credit for virtue or honesty in this +world, Maryllia, unless you grow ugly and deformed. Then perhaps +they will admit you may be good, and they will add--'She has no +temptation to be otherwise.'" + +"I do not like your code of morality, Eva," said Maryllia, quietly. + +"Perhaps not, but it's the only one that works in OUR day!" replied +Eva, with some heat, "Surely you know that?" + +"I try to forget it as much as possible,"--and Maryllia's eyes were +full of a sweet wistfulness as she spoke--"Especially here--in my +father's home!" + +"Oh well!" said Lady Beaulyon, with a touch of impatience--"You are +a strange girl--you always were! You can 'live good,' or try to, if +you like; and stay down here all alone with the doldrums and the +humdrums. But you'll be sick of it in six months. I'm sure you will! +Not a man will come near you,--they hate virtuous women nowadays,-- +and scarce a woman will come either, save old and ugly ones! You +will kill yourself socially altogether by the effort. Life's too +short to lose all the fun out of it for the sake of an ideal or a +theory!" + +Here the gong sounded for dinner. Maryllia turned away from her +dressing-table, and confronted her friend. Her face was grave and +earnest in its expression, and her eyes were very steadfast and +clear. + +"I don't want what you call 'fun,' Eva,"--she said--"I want love! +Love seems to me the only good thing in life. Do you understand? You +ask me why I left my aunt--it was to escape a loveless marriage,--a +marriage that would be a positive hell to me for which neither +wealth nor position could atone. As for 'living good,' I am not +trying that way. I only want to understand myself, and find out my +own possibilities and limitations. And if I never do win the love I +want,--if no one ever cares for me at all, then I shall be perfectly +content to live and die unmarried." + +"What a fate!" laughed Lady Beaulyon, shrugging her white shoulders. + +"A better one than the usual divorce court result of some 'society' +marriages,"--said Maryllia, calmly--"Anyhow, I'd rather risk single +blessedness than united 'cussedness'! Let us go down to dinner, Eva! +On all questions pertaining to 'Souls' and modern social ethics, we +must agree to differ!" + + + + +XX + + +For the next fortnight St. Rest was a scene of constant and unwonted +excitement. There was a continual coming and going, to and from +Abbot's Manor,--some of the guests went away to be replaced by +others, and some who had intended to spend only a week-end and then +depart, stayed on, moved by unaccountable fascination, not only for +their hostess, but for the general pleasantness of the house, and +the old-world, tranquil and beautiful surroundings of the whole +neighbourhood. Lord Charlemont and Mr. Bludlip Courtenay had brought +their newest up-to-date motor-cars with them,--terrible objects to +the villagers whenever they dashed, like escaped waggons off an +express train, through the little street, with their horns blowing +violently as though in a fog at sea. Mrs. Frost was ever on the +alert lest any of her smaller children should get in the way of +these huge rubber-tyred vehicles tearing along at reckless speed,-- +and old Josey Letherbarrow resolutely refused to go outside his +garden gate except on Sundays. + +"Not but what I ain't willin' an' cheerful to die whenever the Lord +A'mighty sends for me;"--he would say--"But I ain't got no fancy for +bein' gashed and jambled." + +'Gashed and jambled,' was his own expression,--one that had both +novelty and suggestiveness. Unfortunately, it happened that a small +pet dog belonging to one of the village schoolboys, no other than +Bob Keeley, the admitted sweet-heart of Kitty Spruce, had been run +over by Mr. Bludlip Courtenay, as that gentleman, driving his car +himself, and staring indifferently through his monocle, had 'timed' +his rush through the village to a minute and a half, on a bet with +Lord Charlemont,--and 'gashed and jambled' was the only description +to apply to the innocent little animal as it lay dead in the dust. +Bob Keeley cried for days,--cried so much, in fact, over what he +considered 'a wicked murder' that his mother sent for 'Passon' to +console him. And Walden, with his usual patience, listened to the +lad's sobbing tale: + +"Which the little beast wor my friend!" he gasped amid his tears-- +"An' he wor Kitty's friend too! Kitty's cryin' 'erself sick, same as +me! I'd 'ad 'im from a pup--Kitty carried 'im in 'er apron when 'e +was a week old,--he loved me--yes 'e did!--an' 'e slept in my weskit +iviry night of 'is life!--an' he 'adn't a fault in 'im, all lovin' +an' true!--an' now 'e's gone--an'--an'-I HATE the quality up at the +Manor--yes I do!--I HATE 'em!--an' if Miss Vancourt 'adn't never +come 'ome, my doggie 'ad been livin' now, an' we'd all a' bin +'appy!" + +Walden patted the boy's rough towzled head gently, and thought of +his faithful 'Nebbie.' It would have been mere hypocrisy to preach +resignation to Bob, when he, the Reverend John, knew perfectly well +that if his own canine comrade had been thus cruelly slain, he also +would have 'hated the quality.' + +"Look here, Bob," he said at last,--"I know just how you feel! It's +just as bad as bad can be. But try and be a man, won't you? You +can't bring the poor little creature back to life again,--and it's +no use frightening your mother with all this grief for what cannot +be helped. Then there's poor Kitty--SHE 'hates the quality';--her +little heart is sore and full of bad feelings--all for the sake of +you and your dog, Bob! She's giving her mother no end of trouble up +at the Manor, crying and fretting--suppose you go and see her? Talk +it over together, like two good children, and try if you can't +comfort each other. What do you say?" + +Bob rose from beside the chair where he had flung himself on his +knees when Walden had entered his mother's cottage,--and rubbed his +knuckles hard into his eyes with a long and dismal sniff. + +"I'll try, sir!" he said chokingly, and then suddenly seizing +'Passon's' hand, he kissed it with boyish fervour, caught up his cap +and ran out. Walden stood for a moment inert,--there was an +uncomfortable tightness in his throat. + +"Poor lad!" he said to himself,--"He is suffering as much in his way +as older people suffer in theirs,--perhaps even more,--because to +the young, injustice always seems strange--to the old it has become +customary and natural!" + +He sighed,--and with a pleasant word or two to Mrs. Keeley, who +waited at her door for him to come out, and who thanked him +profusely for coming to 'hearten up the boy,' he went on his usual +round through the village, uncomfortably conscious that perhaps his +first impressions respecting Miss Vancourt's home-coming were +correct,--and that it might have been better for the peace and +happiness of all the simple inhabitants of St. Rest, if she had +never come. + +Certainly there was no denying that a change had crept over the +little sequestered place,--a change scarcely perceptible, but +nevertheless existent. A vague restlessness pervaded the +atmosphere,--each inhabitant of each cottage was always on the look- +out for a passing glimpse of one of the Abbot's Manor guests, or one +of the Abbot's Manor servants,--it did not matter which, so long as +something or somebody from the Manor came along. Sir Morton Pippitt +had, of course, not failed to take full advantage of any slight +surface or social knowledge he possessed of Miss Vancourt's guests,- +-and had, with his usual bluff pomposity, invited them all over to +Badsworth Hall. Some of them accepted his invitation,--others +declined it. Lord Charlemont and Mr. Bludlip Courtenay discovered +him to be a 'game old boy'--while Lady Wicketts and Miss Fosby found +something congenial in the society of Miss Tabitha Pippitt, who, +cherishing as she did, an antique-virgin passion for the Reverend +John Walden, whom her father detested, had come to regard herself as +a sort of silent martyr to the rough usages of this world, and was +therefore not unwilling to listen to the long stories of life's +disillusions which Lady Wicketts unravelled for her benefit, and +which Miss Fosby, with occasional references to the photographs and +prints of the 'Madonna' or the 'Girl with Lilies' tearfully +confirmed. So the motor-cars continually flashed between Abbot's +Manor and Badsworth Hall, and Lady Beaulyon apparently found so much +to amuse her that she stayed on longer than she had at first +intended. So did Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay. They had their reasons for +prolonging their visit,--reasons more cogent than love of fresh air, +or admiration of pastoral scenery. Both of them kept up an active +correspondence with Maryllia's aunt, Mrs. Fred Vancourt, a lady who +was their 'very dear' friend, owing to her general usefulness in the +matter of money. And Mrs. Fred having a fixed plan in her mind +concerning the welfare and good establishment of her niece, they +were not unwilling to assist her in the furtherance of her views, +knowing that whatever trouble they took would be substantially +rewarded 'under the rose.' + +So they remained, on one excuse or the other,--while other guests +came or went, and took long walks and motor-rides in the +neighbourhood and amused themselves pretty much in their own way, +Maryllia rightly considering that to be the truest form of +hospitality. She herself, however, was living a somewhat restrained +life among them,--and she began to realise more than ever the +difference between 'friends' and 'acquaintances,' and the hopeless +ennui engendered by the proximity of the latter, without the +sympathy of the former. She was learning the lesson that cannot be +too soon mastered by everyone who seeks for pure happiness in this +world--'The Kingdom of God is within you.' In herself she was not +content,--yet she knew no way in which to make herself contented. "I +want something"--she said to herself--"Yet I do not know what I +want." Her pleasantest time during the inroad of her society +friends, was when, after her daily housekeeping consultations with +Mrs. Spruce, she could go and have a chat with Cicely in that young +person's small study, which was set apart for her, next to her +bedroom nearly at the top of the house, and which commanded a wide +view of the Manor park-lands, and the village of St. Rest, with the +silvery river winding through it, and the spire of the church rising +from the surrounding foliage like a finger pointing to heaven. And +she also found relief from the strain of constant entertaining by +rising early in the mornings and riding on her favourite 'Cleopatra' +all over her property, calling on her new agent, Frank Stanways, and +his wife, and chatting with the various persons in her employ. She +did not however go much into the village, and on this point one +morning her agent ventured to observe-- + +"Old Mr. Letherbarrow has been saying that he has not seen you +lately, Miss Vancourt,--not since your friends came down. He seems +to miss you very much." + +Maryllia, swaying lightly in her saddle, stooped over her mare's +neck and patted it, to hide sudden tears that sprang, she knew not +why, to her eyes. + +"Poor Josey!" she said--"I'm sorry! Tell him I'll come as soon as +all my visitors are gone--they will not stay long. The dinner-party +next week concludes everything. Then I shall have time to go about +the village as usual." + +"That will be delightful!" said Alicia Stanways, a bright little +woman, whose introduction and supervision of a 'model dairy' on the +Abbot's Manor estate was the pride of her life--"It really makes all +the people happy to see you! Little Ipsie Frost was actually crying +for you the other day." + +"Was she? Poor little soul! The idea of a child crying for me! It's +quite a novel experience!" And Maryllia laughed--"But I don't think +I'm wanted at all in the village. Mr. Walden does everything." + +"So he does!"--agreed Stanways--"He's a true 'minister' if there +ever was one. Still, he has not been quite so much about lately." + +"No?" queried Maryllia--"I expect he's very busy!" + +"I think he has only one wish in the world!" said Mrs. Stanways, +smiling. + +"What is that?" asked Maryllia, still stroking 'Cleopatra's' glossy +neck thoughtfully. + +"To fill the big rose-window in the church with stained glass,--real +'old' stained glass! He's always having some bits sent to him, and I +believe he passes whole hours piecing it together. It's his great +hobby. He won't have a morsel that is not properly authenticated. +He's dreadfully particular,--but then all old bachelors are!" + +Maryllia smiled, and bidding them good-morning cantered off. She was +curiously touched at the notion of old Josey Letherbarrow missing +her, and 'Baby Hippolyta' crying for her. + +"Not one of my society friends would miss me!"--she said to herself- +-"And certainly I know nobody who would cry for me!" She checked her +thoughts--"Except Cicely. SHE would miss me,--SHE would cry for me! +But, in plain matter-of-fact terms, there is no one else who cares +for me. Only Cicely!" + +She looked up as she rode, and saw that she was passing the 'Five +Sisters,' now in all the glorious panoply of opulent summer leafage. +Moved by a sudden impulse, she galloped up the knoll, and drew rein +exactly at the spot where she had given Oliver Leach his dismissal, +and where she had first met John Walden. The wind rustled softly +through the boughs, which bent and swayed before her, as though the +grand old trees said: 'Thanks to you, we live!' Birds flew from twig +to twig,--and the persistent murmur of many bees working amid the +wild thyme which spread itself in perfumed purple patches among the +moss and grass, sounded like the far-off hum of a human crowd. + +"I did something useful when I saved you, you dear old beeches!" she +said--"But the worst of it is I've done nothing worth doing since!" + +She sighed, and her pretty brows puckered into a perplexed line, as +she slowly guided 'Cleopatra' down the knoll again. + +"It's all so lonely!" she murmured--"I felt just a little dull +before Eva Beaulyon and the others came,--but it's ever so much +duller with them than without them!" + +That afternoon, in compliance with a particularly pressing request +from Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, she accompanied a party of her guests +to Badsworth, driving thither in Lord Charlemont's motor. Sir Morton +Pippitt, red-faced and pompous as usual, met them at the door, in +all the resplendency of new grey summer tweeds and prominent white +waist-coat, his clean-shaven features shining with recent soap, and +his white hair glistening like silver. He was quite in his element, +as he handed out the beautiful Lady Beaulyon from the motor-car, and +expressed his admiration for her looks in no unmeasured terms,--he +felt himself to be almost an actual Badsworth, of Badsworth Hall, as +he patted Lord Charlemont familiarly on the shoulder, and called him +'My dear boy!' As he greeted Maryllia, he smiled at her knowingly. + +"I think I have a friend of yours here to-day, my dear lady!" he +said with an expressive chuckle--"Someone who is most anxious to see +you!" And escorting her with obtrusive gallantry into the hall, he +brought her face to face with a tall, elegant, languid-looking man +who bowed profoundly; "I believe you know Lord Roxmouth?" + +The blood sprang to her brows,--and for a moment she was so startled +and angry that she could scarcely breathe. A swift glance from under +her long lashes showed her the situation--how Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay +was watching her with ill-concealed amusement, and how all the rest +of the party were expectant of a 'sensation.' She saw it all in a +moment,--she recognised that a trap had been laid for her to fall +into unwarily, and realising the position she rose to it at once. + +"How do you do!" she said carelessly, nodding ner head without +giving her hand--"I thought I should meet you this afternoon!" + +"Did you really!" murmured Roxmouth--"Some magnetic current of +thought---" + +"Yes,--'by the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way +comes!'--THAT sort of sensation, you know!" and she laughed; then +perceiving a man standing in the background whose sleek form and +lineaments she instantly recognised, she added--"And how are you, +Mr. Longford? Did you bring Lord Roxmouth here, or did he bring +you?" + +Marius Longford, 'of the Savage and Savile,' was taken by surprise, +and looked a little uncomfortable. He stroked one pussy whisker. + +"We came together," he explained in his affected falsetto voice-- +"Sir Morton Pippitt was good enough to invite me to bring any +friend,--and so--" + +"I see!" and Maryllia lifted her little head with an unconscious +gesture, implying pride, or disdain, or both, as she passed with the +other guests into the Badsworth Hall drawing-room; "The country is +so delightful at this time of year!" + +She moved on. Lord Roxmouth stroked down his fair moustache to hide +a smile, and quietly followed her. He was a good-looking man, tall +and well-built, with a rather pale, clean-cut face, and sandy hair +brushed very smooth; form and respectability were expressed in the +very outline of his figure and the fastidious neatness and nicety of +his clothes. Entering the room where Miss Tabitha Pippitt was +solemnly presiding over the tea-tray with a touch-me-not air of +inflexible propriety, he soon made himself the useful and agreeable +centre of a group of ladies, to whom he carried cake, bread-and- +butter and other light refreshments, with punctilious care, looking +as though his life depended upon the exact performance of these +duties. Once or twice he glanced at Maryllia, and decided that she +appeared younger and prettier than when he had seen her in town. She +was chatting with some of the country people, and Lord Roxmouth +waited for several moments in vain for an opportunity to intervene. +Finally, securing a cup of iced coffee, he carried it to her. + +"No, thanks!" she said, as he approached. + +"Strawberries?" he suggested, appealingly. + +"Nothing, thank you!" + +Smiling a little, he looked at her. + +"I wish you would give me a word, Miss Vancourt! Won't you?" + +"A dozen, if you like!"--she replied, indifferently--"How is Aunt +Emily?" + +"I am glad you ask after her!"--he said, impressively--"She is +well,--but she misses you very much." He paused, and added in a +lower tone--"So do I!" + +She was silent. + +"I know you are angry!" he went on softly--"You went away from +London to avoid me, and you are vexed to see me down here. But I +couldn't resist the temptation of coming. Marius Longford told me he +had called upon you with Sir Morton Pippitt at Abbot's Manor,--and I +got him to bring me down on a visit to Badsworth Hall,--only to be +near you! You are looking quite lovely, Maryllia!" + +She raised her eyes and fixed them full on him. His own fell. + +"I said you were angry, and you are!" he murmured--"But you have the +law in your own hands,--you need not ask me to your house unless you +like!" + +The buzz of conversation in the room was now loud and incessant. Sir +Morton Pippitt's 'afternoon teas' were always more or less +bewildering and brain-jarring entertainments, where a great many +people of various 'sets,' in the town of Riversford and the county +generally, came together, without knowing each other, or wishing to +know each other,--where the wife of the leading doctor in +Riversford, for example, glowered scorn and contempt on Mrs. +Mordaunt Appleby, the wife of the brewer in the same town, and where +those of high and unimpeachable 'family,' like Mrs. Mandeville +Poreham, whose mother was a Beedle, stared frigidly and unseeingly +at every one hailing from the same place as creatures beneath her +notice. + +For--"Thank God!"--said Mrs. Poreham, with feeling,--"I do not live +in Riversford. I would not live in Riversford if I were paid a +fortune to do so! My poor mother never permitted me to associate +with tradespeople. There are no ladies or gentlemen in Riversford,-- +I should be expected to shake hands with my butcher if I resided +there,--but I am proud and glad to say that at present I know nobody +in the place. I never intend to know anybody there!" + +Several curious glances were turned upon Miss Vancourt as she stood +near an open window looking out on the Badsworth Hall 'Italian +Garden,'--a relic of Badsworth times,--her fair head turned away +from the titled aristocrat who bent towards her, as it seemed, in an +attitude of humble appeal,--and one or two would-be wise persons +nodded their heads and whispered--"That's the man she's engaged to." +"Oh, really!---and his name---?" "Lord Roxmouth;--will be Duke of +Ormistoune---" "Good gracious! THAT woman a Duchess!" snorted Mrs. +Mordaunt Appleby, as she heard--"The men must be going mad!" Which +latter remark implied that had she not unfortunately married a +brewer, she might easily have secured the Ormistoune ducal coronet +herself. + +Unaware of the gossip going on around her, Maryllia stayed where she +was at the window, coldly silent, her eyes fixed on the glowing +flower-beds patterned in front of her,--the gorgeous mass of +petunias, and flame-colored geraniums,--the rich saffron and brown +tints of thick clustered calceolarias,--the purple and crimson of +pendulous fuchsias, whose blossoms tumbled one upon the other in a +riot of splendid colour,--and all at once her thoughts strayed +capriciously to the cool green seclusion of John Walden's garden. +She remembered the spray of white lilac he had given her, and +fancied she could almost inhale again its delicious perfume. But the +lilac flowering-time was over now--and the roses had it all their +own way,--she had given a rose in exchange for the lilac, and--Here +she started almost nervously as Lord Roxmouth's voice again fell on +her ears. + +"You are not sparing me any of your attention," he said--"Your mind +is engrossed with something--or somebody--else! Possibly I have a +rival?" + +He smiled, but there was a quick hard gleam of suspicion in his cold +grey eyes. Maryllia gave him a look of supreme disdain. + +"You are insolent," she said, speaking in very low but emphatic +tones--"You always were! You presume too much on Aunt Emily's +encouragement of your attentions to me, which you know are +unwelcome. You are perfectly aware that I left London to escape a +scheme concocted by you and her to so compromise me in the view of +society, that no choice should be left to me save marriage with you. +Now you have followed me here, and I know why! You have come to try +and find out what I do with myself--to spy upon my actions and +occupations, and take back your report to Aunt Emily. You are +perfectly welcome to enter upon this congenial task! You can visit +me at my own house,--you can play detective all over the place, if +you are happy in that particular role. Every opportunity shall be +given you!" + +He bowed. "Thank you!" And stroking his moustache, as was his +constant habit, he smiled again. "You are really very cruel to me, +Maryllia! Why can I never win your confidence--I will not say your +affection? May I not know?" + +"You may!"--she answered coldly--"It is because there is nothing in +you to trust and nothing to value. I have told you this so often +that I wonder you want to be told it again! And though I give you +permission to call on me at my own home,--just to save you the +trouble of telling Aunt Emily that her 'eccentric' niece was too +'peculiar' to admit you there,--I reserve to myself the right at any +moment to shut the door against you." + +She moved from him then, and seeing the Ittlethwaites of +Ittlethwaite Park, went to speak to them. He stood where she had +left him, surveying the garden in front of him with absolute +complacency. Mr. Marius Longford joined him. + +"Well?" said the light of the Savage and Savile tentatively. + +"Well! She is the same ungovernable termagant as ever--conceited +little puss! But she always amuses me--that's one consolation!" He +laughed, and taking out his cigar-case, opened it. "Will you have +one?" Longford accepted the favour. "Who is this old fellow, +Pippitt?" he asked--"Any relation of the dead and gone Badsworth? +How does he get Badsworth Hall? Doesn't he grind bones to make his +bread, or something of that kind?" + +Longford explained with civil obsequiousness that Sir Morton Pippitt +had certainly once 'ground bones,' but that he had 'retired' from +such active service, while still retaining the largest share in the +bone business. That he had bought Badsworth Hall as it stood,-- +pictures, books, furniture and all, for what was to him a mere +trifle; and that he was now assuming to himself by lawful purchase, +the glory of the whole deceased Badsworth family. + +Lord Roxmouth shrugged his shoulders in contempt. + +"Such will be the fate of Roxmouth Castle!" he said--"Some grinder +of bones or maker of beer will purchase it, and perhaps point out +the picture of the founder of the house as being that of a former +pot-boy!" + +"The old order changeth,"--said Longford, with a chill smile--"And I +suppose we should learn to accustom ourselves to it. But you, with +your position and good looks, should be able to prevent any such +possibility as you suggest. Miss Vancourt is not the only woman in +the world." + +"By no means,"--and Roxmouth strolled into the garden, Longford +walking beside him--"But she is the only woman I at present know, +who, if she obeys her aunt's wishes, will have a fortune of several +millions. And just because such a little devil SHOULD be mastered +and MUST be mastered, I have resolved to master her. That's all!" + +"And, to your mind, sufficient,"--said Longford--"But if it is a +question of the millions chiefly, there is always the aunt herself." + +Roxmouth stared--then laughed. + +"The aunt!" he ejaculated--"The aunt?" + +"Why not?" And Longford stole a furtive look round at the man who +was his chief literary patron--"The aunt is handsome, well- +preserved, not more than forty-five at most--and I should say she is +a woman who could be easily led--through vanity." + +"The aunt!" again murmured Roxmouth--"My dear Longford! What an +appalling suggestion! Mrs. Fred as the Duchess of Ormistoune! Forbid +it, Heaven!" + +Then suddenly he laughed aloud. + +"By Jove! It would be too utterly ridiculous! Whatever made you +think of such a thing?" + +"Only the prospect you yourself suggested,"--replied Longford--"That +of seeing a brewer or a bone-melter in possession of Roxmouth +Castle. Surely even Mrs. Fred would be preferable to that!" + +With an impatient exclamation Roxmouth suddenly changed the subject; +but Longford was satisfied that he had sown a seed, which might,-- +time and circumstances permitting,--sprout and grow into a tangible +weed or flower. + +Maryllia meantime had made good her escape from the scene of Sir +Morton Pippitt's 'afternoon-tea' festivity. Gently moving through +the throng with that consummate grace which was her natural +heritage, she consented to be introduced to the 'county' generally, +smiling sweetly upon all, and talking so kindly to the Mandeville +Poreham girls, that she threw them into fluttering ecstasies of +delight, and caused them to declare afterwards to their mother that +Miss Vancourt was the sweetest, dearest, darlingest creature they +had ever met! She stood with patience while Sir Morton Pippitt, +over-excited by the presence of the various 'titled' personages in +his house, guffawed and blustered in her face over the 'little +surprise' he had prepared for her in the unexpected appearance of +Lord Roxmouth; she listened to his "Ha!-ha!-ha! My dear lady! We +know a thing or two! Handsome fellow,--handsome fellow! Think of a +poor old plain Knight when you are a Duchess! Ha! ha! ha! God bless +my soul!"---and without a word in confirmation or denial of his +blatant observations, she managed to slip gradually out of the +drawing-room to the hall and from thence to the carriage drive, +where she found, as she thought she would, Lord Charlemont looking +tenderly into the mechanism of his motor-car, unscrewing this, +peering into that, and generally hanging round the vehicle with a +fatuous lover's enthusiasm. + +"Would you mind taking me back to St. Rest now?" she enquired--"I +have an appointment in the village--you can do the journey in no +time." + +"Delighted!" And Charlemont got his machine into the proper state of +spluttering, gasping eagerness to depart. "Anyone coming with you?" + +"No--nobody knows I am leaving." And Maryllia mounted lightly into +the car. "You can return and fetch the others afterwards. Put me +down at the church, please!" + +In a moment more the car flashed down the drive and out of Badsworth +Hall precincts, and was soon panting and pounding along the country +road at most unlawful speed. As a rule Maryllia hated being in a +motor-car, but on this occasion she was glad of the swift rush +through the air; had the vehicle torn madly down a precipice she +would scarcely have cared, so eager was she to get away from the +hateful vicinity of Lord Roxmouth. She was angry too--angry with +Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, whose hand she recognised in the matter as +having so earnestly begged her to go to Badsworth Hall that +afternoon,--she despised Sir Morton Pippitt for lending himself to +the scheme,--and with all her heart she loathed Mr. Marius Longford +whom she at once saw was Roxmouth's paid tool. The furious rate at +which Lord Charlemont drove his car was a positive joy to her--and +as he was much too busy with his steering gear to speak, she gave +herself up to the smouldering indignation that burned in her soul +while she was, so to speak, carried through space as on a panting +whirlwind. + +"Why can they not leave me alone!" she thought passionately--"How +dare they follow me to my own home!--my own lands!--and spy upon me +in everything I do! It is a positive persecution and more than +that,--it is a wicked design on Aunt Emily's part to compromise me +with Roxmouth. She wants to set people talking down here in the +country just as she set them talking in town, and to make everyone +think I am engaged to him, or OUGHT to be engaged to him. It is +cruel!--I suppose I shall be driven away from here just as I have +been driven from London,--is there NO way in which I can escape from +this man whom I hate!--NO place in the world where he cannot find me +and follow me!" + +The brown hue of thatched roofs through the trees here caused Lord +Charlemont to turn round and address her. + +"Just there!" he said, briefly--"Six minutes exactly!" + +"Good!" said Maryllia, nodding approvingly--"But go slowly through +the village, won't you? There are so many dear little children +always playing about." + +He slackened speed at once, and with a weird toot-tootling of his +horn guided the car on at quite a respectable ambling-donkey pace. + +"You said the church?" + +"Yes, please!" + +Another minute, and she had alighted. + +"Thanks so much!" she said, smiling up into his goggle-guarded eyes. +"Will you rush back for the others, please? And--and--may I ask you +a favour?" + +"A thousand!" he answered, thinking what a pretty little woman she +was, as he spoke. + +"Well--don't--even if they want you to do so,--don't bring Lord +Roxmouth or Mr. Marius Longford back to the Manor. They are Sir +Morton Pippitt's friends and guests--they are not mine!" + +A faint flicker of surprise passed over the aristocratic motor- +driver's features, but he made no observation. He merely said: + +"All right! I'm game!" + +Which brief sentence meant, for Lord Charlemont, that he was loyal +to the death. He was not romantic in the style of expressing +himself,--he would not have understood how to swear fealty on a +drawn sword--but when he said--'I'm game,'-it came to the same +thing. Reversing his car, he sped away, whizzing up the road like a +boomerang, back to Badsworth Hall. Maryllia watched him till he was +out of sight,--then with a sigh of relief, she turned and look +wistfully at the church. Its beautiful architecture had the +appearance of worn ivory in the mellow radiance of the late +afternoon, and the sculptured figures of the Twelve Apostles in +their delicately carved niches, six on either side of the portal, +seemed almost life-like, as the rays of the warm and brilliant +sunshine, tempered by a touch of approaching evening, struck them +aslant as with a luminance from heaven. She lifted the latch of the +churchyard gate,--and walking slowly with bent head between the rows +of little hillocks where, under every soft green quilt of grass lay +someone sleeping, she entered the sacred building. It was quite +empty. There was a scent of myrtle and lilies in the air,--it came +from two clusters of blossoms which were set at either side of the +gold cross on the altar. Stepping softly, and with reverence, +Maryllia went up to the Communion rails, and looked long and +earnestly at the white alabaster sarcophagus which, in its unknown +origin and antiquity, was the one unsolved mystery of St. Rest. A +vague sensation of awe stole upon her,--and she sank involuntarily +on her knees. + +"If I could pray now,"--she thought--"What should I pray for?" + +And then it seemed that something wild and appealing rose in her +heart and clamoured for an utterance which her tongue refused to +give,--her bosom heaved,--her lips trembled,--and suddenly a rush of +tears blinded her eyes. + +"Oh, if I were only LOVED!" she murmured under her breath--"If only +someone could find me worth caring for! I would endure any +suffering, any loss, to win this one priceless gift,--love!" + +A little smothered sob broke from her lips. + +"Father! Mother!" she whispered, instinctively stretching out her +hands--"I am so lonely!--so very, very lonely!" + +Only silence answered her, and the dumb perfume of the altar +flowers. She rose,--and stood a moment trying to control herself,--a +pretty little pitiful figure in her dainty, garden-party frock, a +soft white chiffon hat tied on under her rounded chin with a knot of +pale blue ribbon, and a tiny cobweb of a lace kerchief in her hand +with which she dried her wet eyes. + +"Oh dear!" she sighed--"It's no use crying! It only shows what a +weak little idiot I am! I'm lonely, of course,--I can't expect +anything else; I shall always be lonely--Roxmouth and Aunt Emily +will take care of that. The lies they will tell about me will keep +off every man but the one mean and slanderous fortune-hunter, to +whom lies are second nature. And as I won't marry HIM, I shall be +left to myself--I shall be an old maid. Though that doesn't matter-- +old maids are often the happiest women. Anyhow, I'd rather be an old +maid than Duchess of Ormistoune." + +She dabbed her eyes with the little handkerchief again, and went +slowly out of the church. And as she stepped from the shadow of its +portal into the sunshiny open air, she came face to face with John +Walden. He started back at the sudden sight of her,--then +recollecting himself, raised his hat, looking at her with +questioning eyes. + +"Good afternoon, Mr. Walden!" she said, affecting a sprightly air-- +"Are you quite well?" + +He smiled. + +"Quite. And you? You look---" + +"As if I had been crying, I suppose?"--she suggested. "So I have. +Women often cry." + +"They do,--but---" + +"But why should they?--you would say, being a man,"--and Maryllia +forced a laugh.--"And that's a question difficult to answer! Are you +going into the church?" + +"Not for a service, or on any urgent matter,"--replied John--"I left +a book in the vestry which I want to refer to,--that's all." + +"Fetch it," said Maryllia--"I'll wait for you here." + +He glanced at her--and saw that her lips trembled, and that she was +still on the verge of tears. He hurried off at once, realising that +she wanted a minute or two to recover herself. His heart beat +foolishly fast and uncomfortably,--he wondered what had grieved or +annoyed her. + +"Poor little soul!" he murmured, reflecting on a conversation with +which Julian Adderley had regaled him the previous day, concerning +some of the guests at Abbot's Manor--"Poor, weary, sweet little +soul!" + +While Maryllia, during his brief absence was thinking--"I won't cry, +or he'll take me for a worse fool than I am. He looks so terribly +intellectual--so wise and cool and calm!--and yet I think--I THINK +he was rather pleased to see me!" + +She smoothed her face into a smile,--gave one or two more reproving +taps to her eyelids with her morsel of a kerchief, and was quite +self-possessed when he returned, with a worn copy of the Iliad under +his arm. + +"Is that the book you wanted?" she asked. + +"Yes--" and he showed it to her--"I admit it had no business to be +left in the church." + +She peeped between the covers. + +"Oh, it's all Greek!"--she said--"Do you read Greek?" + +"It is one of the happiest accomplishments I learned at college,"-- +he replied. "I have eased many a heartache by reading Homer in the +original." + +She looked meditative. + +"Now that's very strange!" she murmured--"I should never have +thought that to read Homer in the original Greek would ease a +heartache! How does it do it? Will you teach me?" + +She raised her eyes--how beautiful and blue they were he thought!-- +more beautiful for the mist of weeping that still lingered about +their soft radiance. + +"I will teach you Greek, if you like, with pleasure!"--he said, +smiling a little, though his lips trembled--"But whether it would +cure any heartache of yours I could not promise!" + +"Still, if it cures YOUR heartaches?" she persisted. + +"Mine are of a different character, I think!"--and the smile in his +eyes deepened, as he looked down at her wistfully upturned face,--"I +am getting old,--you are still young. That makes all the difference. +My aches can be soothed by philosophy,--yours could only be charmed +away by--" + +He broke off abruptly. The hot blood rose to his temples, and +retreated again, leaving him very pale. + +She looked at him earnestly. + +"Well!--by what?" + +"I imagine you know, Miss Vancourt! There is only one thing that can +ease the burden of life for a woman, and that is--love!" + +She nodded her fair head sagaciously. + +"Of course! But that is just what I shall never have,--so it's no +use wanting it. I had better learn to read Greek at once, without +delay! When shall I come for my first lesson?" + +She laughed unforcedly now, as she looked up at him. They were +walking side by side out of the churchyard. + +"You are much too busy to learn Greek," he said, laughing with her. +"Your London friends claim all your time,--much to the regret of our +little village." + +"Ah!--but they won't be with me very long now,"--she rejoined-- +"They'll all go after the dinner next week, except Louis Gigue. +Gigue is coming for a day or two and he will perhaps stay on a bit +to give lessons to Cicely. But he's not a society man. Oh, dear no! +Quite the contrary--he's a perfect savage!--and says the most awful +things! Poor old Gigue!" + +She laughed again, and looked happier and brighter than she had done +for days. + +"You have rather spoilt the villagers," went on Walden, as he opened +the churchyard gate for her to pass out, and closed it again behind +them both. "They've got accustomed to seeing you look in upon them +at all hours,--and, of course, they miss you. Little Ipsie Frost +especially frets after you." + +"I'll go and see her very, very soon," said Maryllia, impulsively; +"Dear little thing! When you see her next, tell her I'm coming, +won't you?" + +"I will," he rejoined,--then paused, looking at her earnestly. "Your +friends must find St. Rest a very old-fashioned, world-forgotten +sort of place,"--he continued--"And you must, equally, find it +difficult to amuse them?" + +"Well, perhaps, just a little," she admitted--"The fact is--but tell +it not in Gath--I was happier without them! They bore me to death! +All the same they really mean to be very nice,--they don't care, of +course, for the things I care about,--trees and flowers and books +and music,--but then I am always such an impossible person!" + +"Are you?" His eyes were full of gentleness as he put this question- +-"I should not have thought that!" + +She coloured a little--then changed the subject. + +"You have seen Lady Beaulyon, haven't you?" He bent his head in the +affirmative--"Isn't she lovely?" + +"Not to me," he replied, quietly--"But then I'm no judge." + +She looked at him in surprise. + +"She is considered the most beautiful woman in England!" + +"By whom?", he enquired;--"By the society paragraphists who are paid +for their compliments?" + +Maryllia laughed. + +"Oh, I don't know anything about that!" she said--"I never met a +paragraphist in my life that I know of. But Eva is beautiful--there +is no denying it. And Margaret Bludlip Courtenay is called the +youngest woman in the world!" + +"She looks it!" answered Walden, with great heartiness. "I cannot +imagine Time making any sort of mark upon her. Because--if you don't +mind my saying so--she has really nothing for Time to write upon!" + +His tone was eminently good-natured, and Maryllia glancing at his +smiling face laughed gaily. + +"You are very wicked, Mr. Walden," she said mirthfully--"In fact, +you are a quiz, and you shouldn't be a quiz and a clergyman both +together. Oh, by the way! Why did you stop reading the service when +we all came in late to church that Sunday?" + +He looked full at her. + +"Precisely for that reason. Because you all came in late." + +Maryllia peered timorously at him, with her pretty head on one side, +like an enquiring bird. + +"Do you think it was polite?" + +Walden laughed. + +"I was not studying politeness just then,"--he answered--"I was +exercising my own authority." + +"Oh!" She paused. "Lady Beaulyon and the others did not like it at +all. They thought you were trying to make us ashamed of ourselves." + +"They were right,"--he said, cheerfully--"I was!" + +"Well,--you succeeded,--in a way. But I was angry!" + +He smiled. + +"Were you, really? How dreadful! But you got over it?" + +"Yes,"--she said, meditatively--"I got over it. I suppose you were +right,--and of course we were wrong. But aren't you a very arbitrary +person?" + +His eyes sparkled mirthfully. + +"I believe I am. But I never ask anyone to attend church,--everyone +in the parish is free to do as they like about that. Only if people +do come, I expect them to be punctual,--that's all." + +"I see! And if they're not, you make them feel very small and cheap +about it. People don't like being made small and cheap,--_I_ don't, +for instance. Now good-bye! You are coming to dine next week, +remember!" + +"I remember!" he rejoined, as he raised his hat in farewell. "And do +you think you will learn Greek?" + +"I am sure I will!--as soon as ever all these people are gone. The +week after next I shall be quite free again." + +"And happy?" + +She hesitated. + +"Not quite, perhaps, but as happy as I ever can be! Good-bye!" + +She held out her hand. He pressed it gently, and let her go, +watching her as she moved along the road holding up her dainty skirt +from the dust, and walking with the ease and graceful carriage which +was, to her, second nature. Then he went into his own garden with +the Iliad, and addressing his ever attentive and complaisant dog, +said: + +"Look here, Nebbie--we mustn't think about her! She's a bewildering +little person, with a good deal of the witch glamour in her eyes and +smile,--and it's quite absurd for such staid and humdrum creatures +as you and I, Nebbie, to imagine that we can ever be of the +slightest service to her, or to dream that she ever gives us a +single thought when she has once turned her back upon us. But it is +a pity she should cry about anything!--her eyes were not made for +tears--her life was not created for sorrow! It should be all +sunshine and roses for her--French damask roses, of course!" and he +smiled--"with their hearts full of perfume and their petals full of +colour! As for me, there should only be the grey of her plots of +lavender,--lavender that is dried and put away in a drawer, and more +often than not helps to give fragrance to the poor corpse ready for +burial!" + +He sighed, and opened his Homer. Greek, for once, failed to ease his +heartache, and the Iliad seemed singularly over-strained and deadly +dull. + + + + +XXI + + +That evening before joining her guests at the usual eight o'clock +repast, Maryllia told Cicely Bourne of the disagreeable 'surprise' +which had been treacherously contrived for her at Sir Morton +Pippitt's tea-party by the unexpected presence of the loathed wooer +whom she sought to avoid. + +"Margaret Bludlip Courtenay must certainly have known he was to be +there,"--she said--"And I think, from her look, Eva Beaulyon knew +also. But neither of them gave me a hint. And now if I were to say +anything they would only laugh and declare that they 'thought it +would be fun.' There's no getting any help or sympathy out of such +people. I'm sorry!--but--as usual--I must stand alone." + +"I daresay every one of them was in the plot--men and all, if the +truth were told!"--burst out Cicely, indignantly--"And Mrs. Fred is +at the bottom of the mischief. It's a shame! Your aunt is a brute, +Maryllia! I would say so to her face if she were here! She's a +calculating, selfish, title-grubbing brute! There! What are you +going to do?" + +"Nothing!"--and Maryllia looked thoughtfully out of the window at +the flaming after-glow of the sunset, bathing all the landscape in a +flood of coppery crimson--"I shall just go on as usual. When I go +down to dinner presently, I shall not speak of to-day's incident at +all. Eva Beaulyon and Margaret Courtenay will expect me to speak of +it--and they will be disappointed. If they allude to it, I shall +change the subject. And I shall invite Roxmouth and his tame pussy, +Mr. Marius Longford, to dinner next week, as guests of Sir Morton +Pippitt,--that's all." + +Cicely opened her big dark eyes. + +"You will actually invite Roxmouth?" + +"Of course I will--of course I MUST. I want everyone here to see and +understand how absolutely indifferent I am to him." + +"They will never see--they will NEVER understand!" said Cicely, +shaking her mop of wild hair decisively--"My dear Maryllia, the +colder you are to 'ce cher Roxmouth' the more the world will talk! +They will say you are merely acting a part. "No woman in her senses, +they will swear, would discourage the attentions of a prospective +Duke." + +"They may say what they like,--they may report me OUT of my senses +if they choose!" declared Maryllia, hotly--"I am not a citizeness of +the great American Republic that I should sell myself for a title! I +have suffered quite enough at the hands of this society sneak, +Roxmouth--and I don't intend to suffer any more. His methods are +intolerable. There is not a city on the Continent where he has not +paid the press to put paragraphs announcing my engagement to him-- +and he has done the same thing with every payable paper in London. +Aunt Emily has assisted him in this,--she has even written some of +the announcements herself, sending them to the papers with my +portrait and his, for publication! And because this constantly +rumoured and expected marriage does not come off, and because people +ask WHY it doesn't come off, the pair of conspirators are reduced to +telling lies about me! I almost wish I could get small-pox or some +other hideous ailment and become disfigured,--THEN Roxmouth might +leave me alone! Perhaps Providence will arrange it in that way." + +Cicely uttered an exclamation of horror. + +"Oh, don't say such a thing, Maryllia! It's too dreadful! You are +the prettiest, sweetest creature I ever saw, and I wouldn't have a +scar or a blemish on your dear face for a million Roxmouths! Have +patience! We'll get rid of him!" + +Maryllia gave a hopeless gesture. + +"How?" + +"Well, I don't quite know!" and Cicely knitted her black brows +perplexedly--"But don't worry, Maryllia! I believe it will all come +right. Something will happen to make short work of him,--I'm sure of +it!" + +"You are an optimist,"--said Maryllia, kissing her--"and you're very +young! I have learned that in this best of all possible worlds, +human nature is often the worst part of all creation, and that when +you want to avoid a particularly objectionable human being, that +being is always round the corner. However, if I cannot get rid of +Roxmouth, I shall do something desperate! I shall disappear!" + +"Where to?" asked Cicely, startled. + +"I don't know. Nowhere that you cannot find me!" + +She laughed,--she had recovered her natural buoyancy and light- +heartedness, and when she joined her party at dinner that evening, +she showed no traces of annoyance or fatigue. She made no allusion +to Lord Roxmouth's appearance at Sir Morton Pippitt's, and Mrs. +Bludlip Courtenay, glancing at her somewhat timorously, judged it +best to avoid the subject. For she knew she had played a mean trick +on the friend whose guest she was,--she knew she had in her pocket a +private letter from Mrs. Fred Vancourt, telling her of Lord +Roxmouth's arrival at Badsworth Hall, and urging her to persuade +Maryllia to go there, and to bring about meetings between the two as +frequently as possible,--and as she now and then met the straight +flash of her hostess's honest blue eyes, she felt the hot colour +rising to her face underneath all her rouge, and for once in her +placid daily life of body-massage and self-admiration, she felt +discomposed and embarrassed. The men talked the incident of the day +over among themselves when they were left to their coffee and +cigars, and discussed the probabilities and non-probabilities of +Miss Vancourt becoming the Duchess of Ormistoune, with considerable +zest. + +"She'll never have him--she hates him like poison!"--declared Lord +Charlemont. + +"Not surprised at that,"--said another man--"if she knows anything +about him!" + +"He has gone the pace!" murmured Mr. Bludlip Courtenay thoughtfully, +dropping his monocle out of his eye and hastily putting it back, as +though he feared his eye itself might escape from its socket unless +thus fenced in--"But then, after all--wild oats! Once sown and +reaped, they seldom spring again after marriage." + +"I think you're wrong there!" said Charlemont--"Wild oats are a +singularly perpetual crop. In many cases marriage seems to give them +a fresh start." + +"Will there be a good harvest when YOU marry, Charly?" asked one of +the company, with a laugh. + +"Oh, I shouldn't wonder!" he returned, good-naturedly--"I'm just as +big a fool as any other man. But I always do my best not to play +down on a woman." + +"Woman"--said Mr. Bludlip Courtenay, sententiously--"is a riddle. +Sometimes she wants a vote in elections,--then, if it's offered to +her, she won't have it. Buy her a pearl, and she says she would +rather have had a ruby. Give her a park phaeton, and she declares +she has been dying for a closed brougham. Offer her a five-hundred- +guinea pair of cobs, and she will burst into tears and say she would +have liked a 'little pug-dog--a dear, darling, little Japanese pug- +dog'--she has no use for cobs. And to carry the simile further, give +her a husband, and she straightway wants a lover." + +"That implies that a husband ceases to be a lover,"--said +Charlemont. + +"Well, I guess a husband can't be doing Romeo and 'oh moon'-ing till +he's senile," observed a cadaverous looking man, opposite, who +originally hailed from the States, but who, having purchased an +estate in England, now patriotically sought to forget that he was +ever an American. + +They laughed. + +"'Oh moon'-ing is a good expression,"--said Lord Charlemont--"very +good!" + +"It's mine, sir--but you're welcome to it,"--rejoined the Anglicised +renegade of the Stars and Stripes,--"To 'oh moon' is a verb every +woman likes to have conjugated by a male fool once at least in her +life." + +"Yes--and if you don't 'oh m-moon' with her,"--lisped a young fellow +at the other end of the table--"She considers you a b-b-brute!" + +Again the laugh went round. + +"Well, I don't think Roxmouth will have a chance to go 'oh moon'-ing +with our hostess,"--said Charlemont--"The whole idea of her marriage +with him has been faked up by Mrs. Fred. The girl herself,--Miss +Vancourt,--doesn't want him, and won't have him." + +"Will you take a bet on it?" asked Mr. Bludlip Courtenay. + +"Yes, if you like!" and Charlemont laughed--"I don't bet much, but +I'll bet anything you choose to name on that. Maryllia Vancourt will +never, unless she is bound, gagged and drugged into it, become +Duchess of Ormistoune." + +"Shall we say a tenner?" suggested Courtenay, writing the bet down +in his notebook. + +"Certainly." + +"Good! I take the other side. I know something of Roxmouth,--he's +seldom baffled. Miss Vancourt will be the Duchess before next year!" + +"Not a bit of it! Next year Miss Vancourt will still be Miss +Vancourt!" said Charlemont. emphatically--"She's a woman of +character, and if she doesn't intend to marry Roxmouth, nothing will +make her. She's got a mind of her own,--most women's minds are the +minds of their favourite men." + +"He-he-te-he--te-he--he!" giggled the young man who had before +spoken,--"I know a girl---" + +"Shut up, old chappie! You 'know a bank whereon the wild thyme +grows'--that's what YOU know!" said Charlemont. "Come and have a +look at the motor." + +Whereupon they rose from the table and dispersed. + +From that day, however, a certain additional interest was given to +the house-party entertainment at Abbot's Manor. Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay and Lady Beaulyon fell so neatly into the web which +Maryllia carefully prepared for them, that she soon found out what a +watch they kept upon her, and knew, without further trouble, that +she must from henceforth regard them as spies in her aunt and Lord +Roxmouth's service. The men took no part in this detective business, +but nevertheless were keenly inquisitive in their own line, more +bets being given and taken freely on what was likely to be the +upshot of affairs. Meanwhile, Lord Roxmouth and Mr. Longford, +sometimes accompanied by Sir Morton Pippitt, and sometimes without +him, called often, but Maryllia was always out. She had two watch- +dogs besides her canine friend, Plato,--and these were Cicely and +Julian Adderley. Cicely had pressed the 'moon calf' into her +service, and had told him just as much as she thought proper +concerning Roxmouth and his persecution of her friend and patroness. + +"Go as often as you can to Badsworth Hall,"--she commanded him--"and +find out all their movements there. Then tell ME,--and whenever +Roxmouth comes here to call, Maryllia will be out! Be vigilant and +faithful!" + +And she had shaken her finger at him and rolled her dark eyes with +such tragic intensity, that he had entered zealously into the spirit +of the little social drama, and had become as it were special +reporter of the Roxmouth policy to the opposing party. + +But this was behind the scenes. The visible action of the piece +appeared just now to be entirely with Maryllia and her lordly +wooer,--she as heroine, he as hero,--while the 'supers,' useful in +their way as spies, messengers and general attendants, took their +parts in the various scenes with considerable vivacity, wondering +how much they might possibly get out of it for themselves. If, while +they were guests at Abbot's Manor, an engagement between Lord +Roxmouth and Maryllia Vancourt could be finally settled, they felt +they could all claim a share in having urged the matter on, and +'worked' it. And it was likely that in such a case, Mrs. Fred +Vancourt, with millions at her disposal, would be helpful to them in +their turn, should they ever desire it. Altogether, it seemed a game +worth playing. None of them felt any regret that Maryllia should be +made the pivot round which to work their own schemes of self- +aggrandisement. Besides, no worldly wise society man or woman could +be expected to feel sorry for assisting a young woman to attain the +position of a Duchess. Such an idea would be too manifestly absurd. + +"It will soon be over now,"--said Cicely, consolingly, one afternoon +in the last week of Maryllia's entertaining--"And oh, how glad we +shall be when everybody has gone!" + +"There's one person who won't go, I'm afraid!" said Maryllia. + +"Roxmouth? Well, even HE can't stay at Badsworth Hall for ever!" + +"No,--but he can stay as long as he likes,--long enough to work +mischief. Sir Morton Pippitt won't send him away,--we may be sure of +that!" + +"If HE doesn't go, I suppose WE must?" queried Cicely tentatively. + +Maryllia's eyes grew sad and wistful. + +"I'm afraid so--I don't know--we shall see!"--she replied slowly-- +"Something will have to be settled one way or another--pleasantly or +unpleasantly." + +Cicely's black brows almost met across her nose in a meditative +frown. + +"What a shame it is that you can't be left in peace, Maryllia!"--she +exclaimed--"And all because of your aunt's horrible money! Why +doesn't Roxmouth marry Mrs. Fred?" + +"I wish he would!" said Maryllia, heartily, and then she began to +laugh. "Then it would be a case of 'Oh my prophetic soul! mine +uncle!' And I should be able to say: 'My aunt is a Duchess.' Imagine +the pride and glory of it!" + +Cicely joined in her laughter. + +"It WOULD be funny!" she said--"But whatever happens, I do hope +Roxmouth isn't going to drive us away from the Manor this summer. +You won't let him, will you?" + +Maryllia hesitated a moment. + +"It will depend on circumstances," she said, at last--"If he +persists in staying at Badsworth, I must leave the neighbourhood. +There's no help for it. It would only be for a short time, of +course--and it seems hard, when I have only just come home, as it +were,--but there,--never mind, Cicely! We'll treat it as a game of +hare and hounds,--and we'll baffle the hounds somehow!" + +Cicely gave a comic gesture of resignation to the inevitable. + +"Anyhow, if we want a man to help us,"--she said,--"There's Gigue. +Fortunately he's here now." + +Gigue WAS there--very certainly there, and all there. Louis Gigue, +renowned throughout the world for his culture of the human voice +divine, had arrived the previous day direct from Paris, and had +exploded into the Manor as though he were a human bombshell. He had +entered at the hour of afternoon tea, wild-eyed, wild-haired, +travel-soiled, untidy and eminently good-natured, and had taken +everybody by surprise. He had rushed up to Maryllia, and seizing her +hand had kissed it rapturously,--he had caught Cicely in his arms +and embraced her enthusiastically with a 'Mon enfant prodigue!' and, +tossing his grizzled locks from off his broad forehead, he had +seated himself, sans ceremonie, amidst the company, as though he had +known everyone present all his life. + +"Mon Dieu, ze mal der mer!" he had exclaimed--"Ze bouleversement of +ze vagues! Ze choses terribles! Ze femmes sick!--zen men of ze +coleur blieu! Ah, quel ravissement to be in ze land!" + +Gigue's English was his own particular dialect--he disdained to try +and read a single word of it, but from various sources he had picked +up words which he fitted into his speech as best it suited him, with +a result which was sometimes effective but more often startling. +Maryllia was well accustomed to it, and understood what she called +'Gigue's vernacular'--but the ladies and gentlemen of her house- +party were not so well instructed, and Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, whose +knowledge of the French language was really quite extraordinary, +immediately essayed the famous singing-master in his own tongue. + +"Esker vous avez un moovais passage, Mo'sieur?" she demanded, with +placid self-assurance--"Le mer etait bien mal?" + +Gigue laughed, showing a row of very white strong teeth under his +grizzled moustache, as he accepted a cup of tea from Cicely's hand, +who gave him a meaning blink of her dark eyes as she demurely waited +upon him. + +"Ah, Madame! Je parle ze Inglis seulement in ze England! Oui, oui! +Je mer etait comme l'huile, mais avec un so-so!" And he swayed his +hands to and fro with a rocking movement--"Et le so-so faisaient les +dames--ah, ciel!--so-so!" + +And he placed his hand delicately to his head, with an inimitable +turning aside gesture that caused a ripple of laughter. Maryllia's +eyes sparkled with fun. She saw Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay surveying +Gigue through her lorgnon with an air of polite criticism amounting +to disdain,--she noted the men hanging back a little in the way that +well-born Britishers do hang back from a foreigner who is 'only' a +teacher of singing, especially if they cannot speak his language,-- +and she began to enjoy herself. She knew that Gigue would say what +he thought or what he wanted to say, reckless of censure, and she +felt the refreshment and relief of having one, at least, in the +group of persons around her, who was not in her Aunt Emily's +service, and who uttered frankly his opinions regardless of results. + +"Et maintenant,"--said Gigue, taking hold of Cicely's arm and +drawing her close up to his knee--"Comment chante le rossignol? Do, +re, mi, fa, sol, la, si, do! Chantez!" + +All the members of the house-party stared,--they had taken scarcely +any notice of Cicely Bourne, looking upon her as more or less +beneath their notice--as a 'child picked up in Paris'--a 'waif and +stray'--a 'fad of Maryllia Vancourt's'--and now here was this wild +grey-haired man of renown bringing her into sudden prominent notice. + +"Chantez!" reiterated Gigue, furrowing his brows into a commanding +frown--"Do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si, do!" + +Cicely's dark eyes flashed--and her lips parted. + +"Do--re--mi--sol---" + +Round and full and clear rang the notes, pure as a crystal bell,-- +and the listeners held their breath, as she made such music of the +common scale as only a divinely-gifted singer can. + +"Bien!--tres-bien!" said Gigue, approvingly, with a smile round at +the company--"Mademoiselle Cicely commence a chanter! Ze petite sera +une grande cantatrice! N'est-ce-pas?" + +A stiffly civil wonderment seemed frozen on the faces of Lady +Beaulyon and the others present. Wholly lacking in enthusiasm for +any art, they almost resented the manner in which Cicely was thus +brought forward as a kind of genius, a being superior to them all. +Gigue sniffed the air, as though he inhaled offence in it. Then he +shook his finger with a kind of defiance. + +"Mais--pas en Angleterre!" he said--"Ze petite va commencer a Milan- +-St. Petersburg--Vienna! Zen, ze Inglis vill say--'Ha ha! Zis prima +donna chante pour les Francais, les Italiens, les Russes!--il faut +qu'elle chante pour nous!' Zen--zey vill pay ze guinea--ces commes +des moutons! Zey follow les autres pays--zey know nosing of ze art +demselves!" + +Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay coughed delicately. + +"Music is so very much overdone in England"--she said, languidly-- +"One gets so tired of it! Concerts are quite endless during the +season, and singers are always pestering you to take tickets. It's +quite too much for anyone who is not a millionaire." + +Gigue did not catch this flow of speech--but Cicely heard it, + +"Well, I shall never ask anyone to 'take tickets' to hear me!" she +said, laughing. "A famous prima donna never does that kind of +thing!" + +"How do you know you will be famous?" asked Lady Beaulyon, amused. + +"Instinct!" replied Cicely, gaily--"Just as the bird knows, it will +be able to make a nest, so do I know I shall be famous! Don't let us +talk any more about singing! Come and see the garden, Gigue!--I'll +take you round it--and I want a chat with you." + +The two went off together, much to the relief of the rest of the +party. + +"What an extraordinary-looking creature!" said Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay--"Is he quite a gentleman, Maryllia?" + +Maryllia smiled. + +"He is a gentleman according to my standard," she said. "He is +honest, true to his friends, and faithful to his work. I ask nothing +more of any man." + +She changed the subject of conversation,--and Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay, in the privacy of her own apartment, confided to her +husband that she really thought Maryllia Vancourt was a little 'off +her head'--just a little. + +"Because, really,"--said Mrs. Courtenay--"when it comes to +harbouring geniuses in one's own house, it is quite beyond all +reason. I sympathise so much with poor Mrs. Fred! If Maryllia would +only marry Lord Roxmouth, all these flighty and fantastic notions of +hers about music and faithful friends and honour and principle would +disappear. I am sure they would!--and she would calm down and be +just like one of us." + +Mr. Bludlip Courtenay stared hard through his monocle. + +"Why don't you talk to her about it?" he said--"You might do more +for Roxmouth than you are doing, Peggy! I may tell you it would mean +good times for both of us if you pushed that affair on!" + +Mrs. Courtenay looked meditative. + +"I'll try!"--she said, at last--"Roxmouth is to dine here to-morrow +night--I'll say something before he comes." + +And she did. She took an opportunity of finding Maryllia alone in +her morning-room, where she was busy answering some letters. Gliding +in, without apology, she sank into the nearest comfortable chair. + +"We shall soon all be gone from this dear darling old house!" she +said, with a sigh--"When are you coming back to London, Maryllia?" + +"Never, I hope,"--Maryllia answered--"I am tired of London,--and if +I go anywhere away from here for a change it will be abroad--ever so +far distant!" + +"With Lord Roxmouth?" suggested Mrs. Courtenay, with a subtle blink +in her eyes. + +Maryllia laid down the pen she held, and looked straight at her. + +"I think you are perfectly aware that I shall never go anywhere with +Lord Roxmouth,"--she said--"Please save yourself the trouble of +discussing this subject! I know how anxious you are upon the point-- +Aunt Emily has, of course, asked you to use your influence to +persuade me into this detestable marriage--now do understand me, +once and for all, that it's no use. I would rather kill myself than +be Lord Roxmouth's wife!" + +"But why--" began Mrs. Courtenay, feebly. + +"Why? Because I know what kind of a man he is, and how +hypocritically he conceals his unnameable vices under a cloak of +respectability. I can tolerate anything but humbug,--remember that!" + +Mrs. Courtenay winced, but stuck to her guns. + +"I'm sure he's no worse than other men!"--she said--"And he's +perfectly devoted to you! It would be much better to be Duchess of +Ormistoune, than a poor lonely old maid looking after geniuses. +Geniuses are perfectly horrible persons! I've had experience with +them. Why, I tried to bring out a violinist once--such a dirty young +man, and he smelt terribly of garlic--he came from the Pyrenees--but +he was quite a marvellous fiddler--and he turned out most +ungratefully, and married my manicurist. Simply shocking! And as for +singers!--my dear Maryllia, you never seem to realise what an utter +little fright that Cicely Bourne of yours is! She will never get on +with a yellow face like that! And SUCH a figure!" + +Maryllia laughed. + +"Well, she's only fourteen---" + +"Nonsense!" declared Mrs. Courtenay--"She tells you that--but she's +twenty, if she's a day! She's 'doing' you, all round, and so is that +artful old creature Gigue! Taking your money all for nothing!--you +may be sure the two of them are in a perfect conspiracy to rob you! +I can't imagine why you should go out of your way to pick up such +people--really I can't--when you might marry into one of the best +positions in England!" + +Maryllia was silent. After a pause, she said gently: + +"Is there anything else you want to tell me? I'm rather pressed for +time,--I have one or two letters to write---" + +"Oh, I see you want to get rid of me," and Mrs. Courtenay rose from +her chair with a bounce--"You have become so rude lately, Maryllia,- +-you really have! Your aunt is quite right! But I'm glad you have +asked Roxmouth to dine to-night--that is at least one step in the +right direction! I'm sure if you will let him say a few words to you +alone---" + +Maryllia lifted her eyes. + +"I have already asked you to drop this subject," she said. + +"Well!--if you persist in your obstinacy, you can only blame +yourself for losing a good chance,"--said Mrs. Courtenay, with real +irritation--"You won't see it, of course, but you're getting very +passee, Maryllia--and it's only an old friend of your aunt's like +myself that can tell you so. I have noticed several wrinkles round +your eyes--you should massage with some 'creme ivoire' and tap those +lines--you really should--tap on to them so---" and Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay illustrated her instructions delicately on her own pink- +and-white dolly face with her finger-tips--"I spend quite an hour +every day tapping every line away round my eyes--but you've really +got more than I have---" + +"I'm not so young as you are, perhaps!" said Maryllia, with a little +smile--"But I don't care a bit how I look! If I'm getting old, so is +everyone--it's no crime. If we live, we must also die. People who +sneer at age are likely to be sneered at themselves when their time +comes. And if I'm growing wrinkles, I'd rather have country ones +than town ones. See?" + +"Dear me, what odd things you do say!" and Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay +shook out her skirts and glanced over her shoulder at her own +reflection in a convenient mirror--"You seem to be quite impossible +at times---" + +"Yes,--Aunt Emily always said so!"--interposed Maryllia, quietly. + +"And yet think of the advantages you have had!--the education--the +long course of travel!--you should really know the world by this +time better than you do?"--went on the irrepressible lady--"You +should surely be able to see that there is nothing so good for a +woman as a good marriage. Everything in a girl's life points to that +end--she is trained for it, dressed for it, brought up to it--and +yet here you are with a most brilliant position waiting for you to +step into it, and you turn your back upon it with contempt! What do +you imagine you can do with yourself down here all alone? There are +no people of your own class residing nearer to you than three or +four miles distant--the village is composed of vulgar rustics--the +rural town is inhabited only by tradespeople, and though one of your +near neighbours is Sir Morton Pippitt, one would hardly call him a +real gentleman--so there's really nobody at all for YOU to associate +with. Now is there?" + +Maryllia glanced up, her eyes sparkling. + +"You forget the parson!" she said. + +"Oh, the parson!" And Mrs. Courtenay tittered. "Well, you're the +last woman in the world to associate with a parson! You're not a bit +religious!" + +"No," said Maryllia--"I'm afraid I'm not!" + +"And you couldn't do district visiting and soup kitchens and +mothers' meetings"--put in Mrs. Courtenay--"It would be too sordid +and dull for words. In fact, you wil simply die of ennui down here +when the summer is over. Now, if you married Roxmouth---" + +"There would be a gall-moon, instead of a honey one," said Maryllia, +calmly,--"But there won't be either. I MUST finish my letters! Do +you mind leaving me to myself?" + +Mrs. Courtenay tossed her head, bit her lip, and rustled out of the +room in a huff. She reported her ill-success with 'Maryllia Van' to +her husband, who, in his turn, reported it to Lord Roxmouth, who +straightway conveyed these and all other items of the progress or +retrogression of his wooing to Mrs. Fred Vancourt. That lady, +however, felt so perfectly confident that Roxmouth would,--with the +romantic surroundings of the Manor, and the exceptional +opportunities afforded by long afternoons and moonlit evenings,-- +succeed where he had hitherto failed, that she almost selected +Maryllia's bridal gown, and went so far as to study the most +elaborate designs for wedding-cakes of a millionaire description. + +"For,"--said she, with comfortable self-assurance--"St. Rest, as I +remember it, is just the dullest place I ever heard of, except +heaven! There are no men in it except dreadful hunting, drinking +provincial creatures who ride or play golf all day, and go to sleep +after dinner. That kind of thing will never suit Maryllia. She will +contrast Roxmouth with the rural boors, and as a mere matter of good +taste, she will acknowledge his superiority. And she will do as I +wish in the long run,--she will be Duchess of Ormistoune." + + + + +XXII + + +The long lazy afternoons of July, full of strong heat and the +intense perfume of field-flowers, had never seemed so long and lazy +to John Walden as during this particular summer. He felt as if he +had nothing in the world to do,--nothing to fill up his life and +make it worth living. All his occupations seemed to him very +humdrum,--his garden, now ablaze with splendid bloom and colour, +looked tawdry, he thought; it had been much prettier in spring-time +when the lilac was in blossom. There was not much pleasure in +punting,--the river was too glassy and glaring in the sun,--the +water dripped greasily from the pole like warm oil--besides, why go +punting when there was nobody but one's self to punt? Whether it was +his own idle fancy, or a fact, he imagined that the village of St. +Rest and its villagers had, in some mysterious way, become separated +from him. Everybody in the place, or nearly everybody, had something +to do for Miss Vancourt, or else for one or other of Miss Vancourt's +guests. Everything went 'up to the Manor '--or came 'down from the +Manor'--the village tradespeople were all catering for the Manor-- +and Mr. Netlips, the grocer, driving himself solemnly ever to +Riversford one day, came back with a board--'a banner with a strange +device'--painted in blue letters on a white ground, which said: + +PETROL STORED HERE. + +This startling announcement became a marvel and a fascination to the +eyes of the villagers, every one of them coming out of their houses +to look at it, directly it was displayed. + +"You'll be settin' the 'ouse on fire, Mr. Netlips, I'm afraid," said +Mrs. Frost, severely, putting her arms akimbo, and sniffing at the +board as though she could smell the spirit it proclaimed--"You don't +know nothink about petrol! An' we ain't goin' to have motor-cars +often 'ere, please the Lord's goodness!" + +Mr. Netlips smiled a superior smile. + +"My good woman,"--he said, with his most magisterial air--"if you +will kindly manage your own business, which is that of pruning the +olive and uprooting the vine, and leave me to manage my +establishment as the reversible movement of the age requires, it +will be better for the equanimity of the gastritis." + +"Good Lord!" and Mrs. Frost threw up her hands--"You're a fine sort +of man for a grocer, with your reversibles and your gastritis! What +in the world are you talking about?" + +Mr. Netlips, busy with the unpacking of a special Stilton cheese +which he was about to send 'up to the Manor,' waved her away with +one hand. + +"I am talking above your head altogther, Mrs. Frost,"--he said, +placidly--"I know it! I am aware that my consonances do not +tympanise on your brain. Good afternoon!" + +"Petrol Stored Here!"--said Bainton, standing squat before the +announcement, as he returned from his day's work--"Hor-hor-hor! Hor- +hor! I say, Mr. Netlips, don't blow us all into the middle of next +week. Where does ye store it? Out in the coal-shed? It's awful +'spensive, ain't it?" + +"It is costly,"--admitted Mr. Netlips, with a grandiose manner, +implying that even if it had cost millions he would have been equal +to 'stocking' it--"But the traveling aristocrat does not interrogate +the lucrative matter." + +"Don't he?" and Bainton scratched his head ruminatively. "I s'pose +you knows what you means, Mr. Netlips, an' you gen'ally means a lot. +Howsomever, I thought you was dead set against aristocrats anyway-- +your pol'tics was for what you call masses,--not classes, nor asses +neither. Them was your sentiments not long ago, worn't they?" + +Mr. Netlips drew himself up with an air of offended dignity. + +"You forestall me wrong, Thomas Bainton,"--he said--"And I prefer +not to amplify the conference. A sentiment is no part of a political +propinquity." + +With that, he retired into the recesses of his 'general store,' +leaving Bainton chuckling to himself, with a broad grin on his +weatherbeaten countenance. + +The 'Petol' board displayed on the front of Mr. Netlips' shop, +however, was just one of those slight indications which showed the +vague change that had crept over the erstwhile tranquil atmosphere +of St. Rest. Among other signs and tokens of internal disquiet was +the increasing pomposity of the village post-mistress, Mrs. Tapple. +Mrs. Tapple had grown so accustomed to various titles and prefixes +of rank among the different guests who came in turn to stay at the +Manor, that whereas she had at one time stood in respectful awe of +old Pippitt because he was a 'Sir,' she now regarded him almost with +contempt. What was a 'Sir' to a 'Lord'? Nothing!--less than nothing! +For during one week she had sold stamps to a real live Marquis and +post-cards to a 'Right Honourable,' besides despatching numerous +telegrams for the Countess of Beaulyon. By all the gods and little +fishes, Sir Morton Pippitt had sunk low indeed!--for when Mrs. +Tapple, bridling with scorn, said she 'wondered 'ow a man like 'im +wot only made his money in bone-boilin' would dare to be seen with +Miss Vancourt's real quality' it was felt that she was expressing an +almost national sentiment. + +Taking everything into consideration, it was not to be denied that +the new element infused into the little village community had +brought with it a certain stir and excitement, but also a sense of +discontent. And John Walden, keenly alive to every touch of feeling, +was more conscious of the change than many another man would have +been who was not endowed with so quick and responsive a nature. He +noted the quaint self-importance of Mrs. Tapple with a kindly +amusement, not altogether unmixed with pain,--he watched regretfully +the attempts made by the young girls of his little parish to trick +themselves out with cheap finery imported from the town of +Riversford, in order to imitate in some fashion, no matter how far +distant, the attire of Lady Beaulyon, whose dresses were a wonder, +and whose creditors were legion,--and he was sincerely sorry to see +that even gentle and pretty Susie Prescott had taken to a new mode +of doing her hair, which, though elaborate, did not suit her at all, +and gave an almost bold look to an otherwise sweet and maidenly +countenance. + +"But I am old,--and old-fashioned too!"--he said to himself, +resignedly--"The world must move on--and as it moves it is bound to +leave old times behind it--and me with them. I must not complain-- +nor should I, even in my own heart, find too many reproaches for the +ways of the young." + +And involuntarily he recalled Tennyson's lines:-- + + "Only 'dust to dust' for me that sicken at your lawless din,-- + Dust in wholesome old-world dust before the newer world begin!" + +"'Wholesome old-world dust'!" he mused--"Yes! I think it WAS more +wholesome than our too heavily manured soil!" + +And a wave of pained regret and yearning arose in him for the days +when life was taken more quietly, more earnestly, more soberly--with +the trust and love of God inspiring the soul to purity and peace-- +when to find a woman who was at the same time an atheist was a thing +so abnormal and repulsive as to excite the utmost horror in society. +Society! why, now, many women in society were atheists, and made no +secret of their shame! + +"I must not dwell on these thoughts,"--he said, resolutely. "The +sooner I see Brent, the better. I've accepted his invitation for the +last week of this month--I can be spared then for two or three days- +-indeed, I doubt whether I shall even be missed! The people only +want me on Sundays now--and--though I do try not to notice it,--a +good many of the congregation are absent from their usual places." + +He sighed. He would not admit to himself that it was Maryllia +Vancourt--'Maryllia Van'--or rather her guests who had exercised a +maleficent influence on his little cure of souls, and that because +the 'quality' did not go to church on Sundays, then some of the +villagers,--like serfs under the sway of nobles,--stayed away also. +He realised that he had given offence to this same 'quality,' by +pausing in his reading, when they entered late on the one occasion +they did attend divine service,--but he did not care at all for +that. He knew, that the truth of the mischief wrought by the idle, +unthinking upper classes of society, is always precisely what the +upper classes do not want to hear;--and he was perfectly aware in +his own mind that his short, but explicit sermon, on the 'Soul,' had +not been welcome to any one of his aristocratic hearers, while it +had been a little over the heads of his own parishioners. + +"Mere waste of words!" he mused, with a kind of self-reproach--"I +don't know why I chose the text or subject at all. Yes--yes!--I do +know! Why do I play the deceiver with myself! She was there--so +winsome--so pretty!--and her soul is sweet and pure;--it must be +sweet and pure, if it can look out of such clear windows as her +eyes. Let all the world go, but keep that soul, I thought!--and so I +spoke as I did. But I think she scarcely listened--it was all waste +of time, waste of words,--waste of breath! I shall be glad to see +dear old Brent again. He wants to talk to me, he says--and I most +certainly want to talk to him. After the dinner-party at the Manor, +I shall be free. How I dread that party! How I wish I were not +going! But I have promised her--and I must not break my word!" + +He began to think about one or two matters that to him were not +altogether pleasing. Chief among these was the fact that Sir Morton +Pippitt had driven over twice now 'to inspect the church'-- +accompanied by Lord Roxmouth, and the Reverend 'Putty' Leveson. Once +Lord Roxmouth had left his card at the rectory, and had written on +it: 'Wishing to have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Walden'--a pleasure +which had not, so far, been gratified. Walden understood that Lord +Roxmouth was, or intended to be, the future husband of Miss +Vancourt. He had learned something of it from Bishop Brent's letter- +-but now that his lordship was staying as a guest at Badsworth Hall, +rumour had spread the statement so very generally that it was an +almost accepted fact. Three days had been sufficient to set the +village and county talking;--Roxmouth and his tools never did their +mischievous work by halves. John Walden accepted the report as +others accepted it--only reserving to himself an occasion to ask +Miss Vancourt if it were indeed true. Meantime, he kept himself +apart from the visitors--he had no wish to meet Lord Roxmouth-- +though he knew that a meeting was inevitable at the forthcoming +dinner-party at Abbot's Manor. Bainton had that dinner-party on his +mind as well as his master. He had heard enough of it on all sides. +Mrs. Spruce had gabbled of it, saying that 'what with jellies an' +ices an' all the things as has to be thought of an' got in ready,' +she was 'fair mazed an' moithered.' And she held forth on the +subject to one of her favourite cronies, Mrs. Keeley, whose son Bob +was still in a state of silent and resentful aggressiveness against +the 'quality' for the death of his pet dog. + +"It's somethin' too terrible, I do assure you!" she said--"the way +these ladies and gentlemen from Lunnon eats fit to bust themselves! +When they fust came down, I sez to cook, I sez--'Lord bless 'em, +they must 'ave all starved in their own 'omes'--an' she laughed--she +'avin 'sperience, an' cooked for 'ouse-parties ever since she +learned makin' may'nases [mayonnaise] which she sez was when she was +twenty, an' she's a round sixty now, an' she sez, 'Lor, no! It do +frighten one at first wot they can put into their stummicks, Missis +Spruce, but don't you worry--you just get the things, and they'll +know how to swaller 'em.' Well now, Missis Keeley, if you'll b'lieve +me"--and here Mrs. Spruce drew a long breath and began to count on +her fingers--"This is 'ow we do every night for the visitors, makin' +ready for hextras, in case any gentleman comes along in a motor +which isn't expected--fust we 'as horduffs---" + +"Save us!" exclaimed Mrs. Keeley--"What's they?" + +"Well _I_ calls 'em kickshaws, but the right name is horduffs, +Primmins sez, bein' a butler he should know the French, an' 'tis a +French word, an' it's nothin' but little dishes 'anded round, olives +an' anchovies, an' sardines an' messes of every kind, enough to make +ye sick to look at 'em--they swallers 'em, an' then we sends in +soup--two kinds, white an' clear. They swallers THAT, an' the fish +goes in--two kinds--the old Squire never had but one--THAT goes +down, an' then comes the hentreys. Them's sometimes two--sometimes +four--it just depends on the number we 'as at table. They'se all got +French names--there's nothing plain English about them. But they'se +only bits o' meat an' fowl, done up in different ways with sauces +an' vegetables, an' the quality eats 'em up as though they was two +bites of an apple. Then we sends in the roast and b'iled--and they +takes good cuts off both--then there's game,--now that's nearly +allus all eat up, for I like to pick a bone now and then myself if +it comes down on a dish an' no one else wants it--but there's never +a morsel left for me, I do assure you! Then comes puddings an' +sweets--then cheese savouries--then ices--an' then coffee--an' all +the time the wine's a-goin', Primmins sez, every sort, claret, 'ock, +chably, champagne,--an' the Lord alone He knows wot their poor +insides feels like when 'tis all a-mixin' up together an' workin' +round arterwards. But, as I sez, 'tain't no business o' mine if the +fash'nables 'as trained their stummicks to be like the ostriches +which eats, as I'm told, 'ard iron nails with a relish, I onny know +I should 'a' bin dead an' done with long ago if I put a quarter of +the stuff into me which they puts into theirselves, while some of +the gentlemen drinks enough whiskey an' soda to drown 'em if 'twas +all put in a tub at once---" + +"But Miss Vancourt," interrupted Mrs. Keeley, who had been listening +to her friend's flow of language in silent wonder,--"She don't eat +an' drink like that, do she?" + +"Miss Maryllia, bless 'er 'art, sits at her table like a little +queen,"--said Mrs. Spruce, with emotion--"Primmins sez she don't eat +scarce nothin', and don't say much neither. She just smiles pretty, +an' puts in a word or two, an' then seems lookin' away as if she saw +somethink beautiful which nobody else can see. An' that Miss Cicely +Bourne, she's just a pickle!--'ow she do play the comic, to be +sure!--she ran into the still-room the other day an' danced round +like a mad thing, an' took off all the ladies with their airs an' +graces till I nearly died o' larfin'! She's a good little thing, +though, takin' 'er all round, though a bit odd in 'er way, but that +comes of bein' in France an' learnin' music, I expect. But I really +must be goin'--there's heaps an' heaps to do, but by an' by we'll +have peace an' quiet again--they're all a-goin' next week." + +"Well, I shan't be sorry!"--and Mrs. Keeley gave a short sigh of +satisfaction--"I'm fair sick o' seein' them motor-cars whizzin' +through the village makin' such a dust an' smell as never was,--an' +I'm sure there's no love lost 'tweens Missis Frost an' me, but it do +make me worrited like when that there little Ipsie goes runnin' out, +not knowin' whether she mayn't be run over like my Bob's pet dog. +For the quality don't seem to care for no one 'cept theirselves--an' +it ain't peaceful like nor safe as 'twas 'fore they came. An' I +s'pose we'll be seein' Miss Maryllia married next?" + +Mrs. Spruce pursed up her mouth tightly and looked unutterable +things. + +"'Tain't no good countin' chickens 'fore they're hatched, Missis +Keeley!" she said--"An' the Lord sometimes fixes up marriages in +quite a different way to what we expects. There ain't goin' to be no +weddin's nor buryin's yet in the Manor, please the A'mighty +goodness, for one's as mis'able as t'other, an' both means change, +which sometimes is good for the 'elth but most often contrariwise, +though whatever 'appens either way we must bend our 'eads under the +rod to both. But I mustn't stay chitterin' 'ere any longer--good day +t'ye!" + +And nodding darkly as one who could say much an' she would, the +worthy woman ambled away. + +Scraps of information, such as this talk of Mrs. Spruce's, reached +Bainton's ears from time to time in a disjointed and desultory +manner and moved him to profound cogitation. He was not quite sure +now whether, after all, his liking for Miss Vancourt had not been +greatly misplaced. + +"When I seed her first,"--he said to himself, pathetically, while +hoeing the weeds out of the paths in the rectory garden, "When me +an' old Josey went up to get 'er to save the Five Sisters, she +seemed as sweet as 'oney,--an' she's done many a kind thing for the +village since. But I don't care for 'er friends. They've changed her +like--they've made her forget all about us! An' as for Passon, she +don't come nigh 'im no more, an' he don't go nigh 'er. Seems to me +'tis all a muddle an' a racket since the motor-cars went bouncin' +about an' smellin' like p'ison--'tain't wot it used to be. +Howsomever, let's 'ope to the Lord it'll soon be over. If wot they +all sez is true, there'll be a weddin' 'ere soon, Passon'll marry +Miss Vancourt to the future Dook, an' away they'll go, an' Abbot's +Manor'll be shut up again as it used to afore. An' the onny change +we'll 'ave will be Mr. Stanways for agent 'stead of Oliver Leach-- +which is a blessin'--for Stanways is a decent, kindly man, an' +Oliver Leach--well now!" And he paused in his hoeing, fixing his +round eyes meditatively on a wall where figs were ripening in the +sun--"Blest if I can make out Oliver Leach! One day he's with old +Putty Leveson--another he's drunk as a lord in the gutter--an' +another he's butterfly huntin' with a net, lookin' like a fool--but +allus about the place--allus about--an' he's got a face that a kid +would scream at seein' it in the dark. I wish he'd find another +situation in a fur-off neighbourhood!" + +Here, looking towards the lawn, he saw his master walking slowly up +and down on the grass in front of his study window, with head bent +and hands loosely clasped behind his back, apparently lost in +thought. + +"Passon ain't hisself,--seems all gone to pieces like," he mused-- +"He don't do nothin' in the garden,--he ain't a bit partikler or +fidgetty--an all he cares about is the bits o' glass which comes on +approval from all parts o' the world for the rose window. I sez to +him t'other day--'Ain't ye got enough old glass yet, Passon?'--and +he sez all absent-minded like, 'No, Bainton--not yet! There are many +difficulties to be conquered--one must have patience. It's almost +like piecing a life together,' sez he--'one portion is good--another +bad--one's got the true colour--the other's false--and so on--it's +hard work to get all the little bits of love an' charity an' +kindness to fit into their proper places. Don't you understand?' +'No, Passon,' sez I, 'I can't say as I do!' Then he laughed, but sad +like--an' went away with his 'ead down as he's got it now. +Something's wrong with him--an' it's all since Miss Vancourt came. +She's a real worry to 'im I 'spect,--an' it's true enough the place +ain't like what it was a month ago. Yet there's no denyin' she's a +sweet little lady for all one can say!" + +Bainton's sentiments were a fair reflection of the general village +opinion, though in the town of Riversford the tide of feeling ran +high, and controversy raged furiously, over the ways and doings of +Miss Vancourt and her society friends. A certain vague awe stole +over the gossips, however, when they heard that, whether rapid or +non-rapid, 'Maryllia Van,' as Sir Morton Pippitt persisted in +calling her, was likely to be the future Duchess of Ormistoune. Lord +Roxmouth had been seen in Riversford just once, and many shop-girls +had declared him 'so distinguished looking!' Mordaunt Appleby, the +brewer, had thrown out sundry hints to Sir Morton Pippitt that he +'should be pleased to see his lordship at Appleby House'--Appleby +House being the name of his, the brewer's, residence--but somehow +his lordship had not yet availed himself of the invitation. +Sufficient, however, was altogether done and said by all concerned +to weave a web of worry round Maryllia,--and to cause her to +heartily regret that she had ever asked any of her London +acquaintances down to her house. + +"I did it as a kind of instruction to myself,--a lesson and a test," +she said--"But I had far better have run the risk of being called an +old maid and a recluse than have got these people round me,--all of +whom I thought were my friends,--but who have been more or less +tampered with by Aunt Emily and Roxmouth, and pressed in to help +carry on the old scheme against me of a detestable alliance with a +man I hate. Well!--I have learned the falsity of their protestations +of liking and admiration and affection for me,--and I'm sorry for +it! I should like to believe in the honesty of at least a few +persons in the world--if that were possible!--I don't want to have +myself always 'on guard' against intrigue and humbug!" + +Everyone present, however, on the night of the last dinner-party she +gave to her London guests, was bound to admit that a sweeter, fairer +creature than its present mistress never trod the old oaken floors +of Abbot's Manor; and that even the radiant pictured beauty of 'Mary +Elia Adelgisa de Vaignecourt,' to whom no doubt many a time the +Merry Monarch had doffed his plumed hat in salutation, paled and +grew dim before the living rose of Maryllia's dainty loveliness and +the magnetic tenderness of Maryllia's eyes. Something of the +exquisite pensiveness of her mother's countenance, as portrayed in +the long hidden picture which was now one of the gems of the Manor +gallery, seemed to soften the outline of her features, and deepen +the character and play of the varying expression which made her so +fascinating to those who look for the soul in a woman's face, rather +than its mere physical form. Lady Beaulyon, beautiful though she +was, owed something to art; but Maryllia was nature's own untouched +product, and everything about her exhaled freshness, sweetness, and +radiant vitality. Roxmouth, entering 'most carefully upon his hour,' +namely at a quarter to eight o'clock, found her singularly +attractive,--more so, he thought, than he had ever before realised. +The stately old-world setting of Abbot's Manor suited her--the dark +oak panelling,--the Flemish tapestries, the worn shields and +scutcheons, the old banners and armorial bearings,--all the numerous +touches of the past which spoke of chivalry, ancestral pride and +loyalty to great traditions, lent grace and colouring to the picture +she herself made, as she received her guests with that sweet +kindness, ease and distinction, which are the heritage of race and +breeding. + +"Pretty little shrew!" he said, in an aside to Marius Longford--"She +is really charming,--and I begin to think I want her as much for +herself as for her aunt's millions!" + +Longford smiled obsequiously. + +"There is a certain air of originality, or shall we say +individuality, about the lady,"--he observed, with a critical, not +to say insolent stare in Maryllia's direction,--"The French term +'beaute du diable' expresses it best. But whether the charm will +last, is another question." + +"No woman's beauty lasts more than a few years,"--said Roxmouth, as +he glanced at the various guests who had entered or were entering. +"Lady Beaulyon wears well--but she is forty years old, and begins to +show it. Margaret Bludlip Courtenay must be fifty, and she doesn't +show it--she manages her Paris cosmetics wonderfully. Some of these +county ladies would be better for a little touch of her art! But +Maryllia Vancourt needs no paint,--she can afford to be natural. Is +that the parson?" + +Walden was just entering the room, and Longford put up his glasses. + +"Yes,"--he replied--"That is the parson. He is not without +character." + +Roxmouth became suddenly interested. He saw Walden go up to his +hostess and bow--he also saw the sudden smile that brightened +Maryllia's face as she welcomed her clerical guest,--the one +Churchman of the party. + +"Rather a distinguished looking fellow,"--he commented carelessly-- +"Is he clever?" + +Longford hesitated. He had been pulverised in one of the literary +weeklies by an article on the authenticity of Shakespeare's plays, +signed boldly 'John Walden'--and he had learned, by cautious +enquiries here and there in London, that though, for the most part, +extremely unassuming, the aforesaid John Walden was considered an +authority in matters of historical and antiquarian research. But he +was naturally anxious that the future Duke of Ormistoune, when he +had secured Mrs. Fred Vancourt's millions, should not expend his +powerful patronage to a country clergyman who might, from a 'Savage +and Savile' point of view, be considered an interloper. So he +replied with caution: + +"I believe he dabbles a little in literary and archaeological +pursuits,--many parsons do. As an archaeologist, he certainly has +merit. You entertain a favourable opinion of the church, he has +restored?" + +"The church, as I have before told you, is perfect,"--replied +Roxmouth--"And the man who carried out such a design must needs be +an interesting personality. I think Miss Vancourt finds him so!" + +His cold grey eyes lightened unpleasantly as he made this remark, +and Marius Longford, quick to discern every shade of tone in a +voice, recognised a touch of satire in the seemingly casual words. +He made no observation, however, but kept his lynx eyes and ears +open, watching and listening for anything that might perchance be of +use in furthering his patron's desires and aims. + +Walden, meanwhile, had, quite unconsciously to himself, created a +little sensation by his appearance. HE was the parson who had dared +to stop in his reading of the service because the Manor house-party +had entered the church a quarter of an hour behind time,--HE was the +man who had told them that it was no use gaining the whole world if +they lost their own souls,--as if, in this advanced era of progress, +any one of them had souls to lose! Preposterous! Here he was, this +country cleric, who, as he was introduced by his hostess to the +various gentlemen standing immediately about her, smiled urbanely, +bowed ceremoniously, and comported himself with an air of +intellectual composure and dignity that had a magnetic effect upon +all. Yet in himself he was singularly ill at ease. Various emotions +in his mind contended together to make him so. To begin with, he +disliked social 'functions' of all kinds, and particularly those at +which any noted persons of the so-called 'Smart Set' were present. +He disliked women who made capital out of their beauty, by allowing +their photographs to be on sale in shop-windows and to appear +constantly in cheap pictorials, and of these Lady Beaulyon was a +notorious example, to say nothing of the graver sins against +morality and principle for which she was renowned. He had no +sympathy with sporting or betting men--and he knew by repute that +Lord Charlemont and Bludlip Courtenay were of this class. Then +again, deep down in his own soul, he resented the fact that Maryllia +Vancourt entertained this sort of people as her guests. She was much +too good for them, he thought,--she wronged herself by being in +their company, or allowing them to be in hers! He watched her as she +received part of the 'county' in the Ittlethwaites of Ittlethwaite +Park, with a charming smile of welcome for Bruce Ittlethwaite, a +lively bachelor of sixty, and for his eldest sister Arabella, some +ten years younger, a lady whose portly form was attired in a +wonderful apple-green satin, trimmed with priceless lace, the latter +entirely lost as an article of value, among the misshapen folds of +the green gown, which had been created, no doubt, by some local +dressmaker, whose ideas were evidently more voluminous than +artistic. And presently, as he stood, a quiet spectator of the +different types of persons who were mingling with each other in the +casual conversation on current topics and events, which always +occupies that interval of time known as the 'mauvais quart d'heure' +before the announcement of dinner, he happened to look at Maryllia's +own dress, and, noticing it more closely, smiled. It was not the +first time he had seen that dress!--and a faint colour warmed his +cheeks as he remembered the occasion when Mrs. Spruce had sent for +him as a 'man o' God' to serve as a witness to her system of +unpacking her lady's wardrobe. That was the dress the garrulous old +housekeeper had held up in her arms as though she were a clothes- +prop, with the observation, 'It's orful wot the world's a-comin' to- +-orful! Fancy diamants all sewed on to a gown!' The gown with the +'diamants' was the very one which now clothed Maryllia,--falling +over an underskirt of palest pink satin, it glittered softly about +her like dew spangles on rose-leaves--and involuntarily Walden +thought of the pink shoes he had also seen,--those absurd little +shoes!--did she wear them with that fairy-like frock, he wondered? +He dared not look towards the floor, lest he should catch a sudden +glimpse of the shining points of that ridiculous but fascinating +foot-gear that had once so curiously discomposed him. Those shoes +might peep out at any moment from under the 'diamants'--with a blink +of familiarity which would be, to say the least of it, embarrassing. +His reflections were at this juncture interrupted by a smooth voice +at his ear. + +"How do you do, Mr. Walden?" + +A glance showed the speaker to be Mr. Marius Longford, and he +responded with brief courtesy. + +"Permit me"--continued Mr. Longford--"to introduce you to Lord +Roxmouth!" + +Walden bowed stiffly. + +"I must congratulate you on the beauty of your church, Mr. Walden,"- +-said Roxmouth, with his usual conventional smile--"I have never +seen a finer piece of work. It is not so much a restoration as a +creation." + +Walden said nothing. He did not particularly care for compliments +from Lord Roxmouth. + +"That sarcophagus,"--continued his lordship--"was a very singular +'find.' I suppose you have no clue to the possible identity of the +saint or sinner whose ashes repose within it?" + +"None,"--replied Walden--"Something might probably be discovered if +the casket were opened. But that will never happen during my +lifetime." + +"You would consider it sacrilege, no doubt?" queried Roxmouth, with +a tolerant air. + +"I should, most certainly!" + +"Nonsense, nonsense!" said Sir Morton Pippitt, obtruding himself on +the conversation at this moment--"God bless my soul! Not so very +long ago every churchyard in England used to have its regular clean +out--ha-ha-ha!--all the bones and skulls used to be dug up and +thrown together in a charnel house, higgledy-piggledy--and nobody +ever talked about sacrilege! You should progress with the age, Mr. +Walden!--you should progress! Why shouldn't a coffin be opened as +readily as any other box, eh? There's generally nothing inside--ha- +ha-ha!--nothing inside worth keeping, ha-ha-ha! The plan of a +spring-cleaning for churchyards was an excellent one, I think;--God +bless my soul!--why not?--makes room for more hodies and saves extra +land being given up to those who are past farming it, except in the +way of manure, ha-ha-ha! There's no such thing as sacrilege +nowadays, Mr. Walden!--why we've got the photograph of Rameses, +taken after a few thousand years' decomposition had set in--ha-ha- +ha! And not bad looking--not bad looking!--rather wild about the +eyes, that's all--ha-ha! God bless my soul!" + +These choice observations of the knight Pippitt were brought to a +happy conclusion by the marshalling of the guests into dinner. Sir +Morton, much to his chagrin, found himself deputed to escort Lady +Wicketts, whose unwieldy proportions allied to his own, made it +difficult for both to pass with proper dignity through the dining- +room doorway. A little excited whispering between Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay and Lady Beaulyon took place, as to whether 'Maryllia Van' +in her professed detestation of Lord Roxmouth, would forget +etiquette and the rule of 'precedence'--but they soon saw she did +not intend to so commit herself. For when all her guests had passed +in before her, she followed resignedly on the arm of the future +Duke. As the greatest stranger, and as the highest in social rank of +all present, he had claim to this privilege, and she was too tactful +to refuse it. + +"What a delightful chatelaine you are!" he murmured, looking down at +her as she rested her little gloved hand with scarce a touch on his +arm--"And how proud and glad I am to be once more beside you! Ah, +Maryllia, you are very cruel to me! If you would only realise how +happy we could be--always together!" + +She made no answer. Arriving in the dining-room, she withdrew her +hand from his arm, and seated herself at the head of her table. He +then found that he was on her right hand, while Lord Charlemont was +on her left. Next to Lord Charlemont sat Lady Beaulyon,--and next to +Lady Beaulyon John Walden was placed with the partner allotted to +him, Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay. On Roxmouth's own side there were Lady +Wicketts and Sir Morton Pippitt,--so it chanced that the table was +arranged in a manner that brought certain parties who were by no +means likely to agree on any one given point, directly opposite to +each other. Cicely, peeping out from a little ante-room, where she +had entreated to be allowed to stand and watch the proceedings, made +a running commentary on this in her own particular fashion. Cicely +was looking very picturesque, in a new white frock which Maryllia +had given her,--with a broad crimson sash knotted carelessly round +her waist and a ribbon of the same colour in her luxuriant black +hair. She was to sing after dinner--Gigue had told her she was to +'astonish ze fools'--and she was ready to do it. Her dark eyes shone +like stars, and her lips were cherry-red with excitement,--so much +so that Mrs. Spruce, thinking she was feverish, had given her a +glass of 'cooling cordial'--made of fruit and ice and lemon water, +which she was enjoying at intervals while criticising the fine folks +in the dining-room. + +"Well done, Maryllia!" she murmured, as she saw her friend enter on +Roxmouth's arm--"Cold as a ray of the moon, but doing her social +duty to the bitter end! What a tom-cat Roxmouth is!--a sleek pussy, +sure to snarl if his fur is rubbed up the wrong way--but he is just +the type that some women would like to marry--he looks so well-bred. +Poor Mr. Walden!--he's got to talk to the Everlasting-Youth lady,-- +and old Sir Morton Pippitt is immediately opposite to him!--now +that's too bad of Maryllia!--it really is! She knows how the bone- +boiler longs to boil Mr. Walden's bones, and that Mr. Walden wishes +Sir Morton Pippitt were miles away from him! They shouldn't have +faced each other. But how very, very superior to all the lot Mr. +Walden looks!--he really IS handsome!--he has such an intellectual +head. There's Gigue chattering away to poor old Miss Fosby!--oh +dear! Miss Fosby will never understand him! What a motley crew! And +I shall have to sing to them all after they've dined! Saint Moses! +It will be a sort of 'first appearance in England.' A good test, +too, because all the English eat nearly to bursting before they go +to the opera. No wonder they never can grasp what the music is +about, or who's who! It's all salmon and chicken and lobster and +champagne with them--not Beethoven or Wagner or Rossini. Good old +Gigue! His spirits are irrepressible! How he is laughing! Mr. Walden +looks very serious--almost tragic--I wonder what he is thinking +about! I wish I could hear what they are all saying--but it's +nothing but buzz, buzz!" + +She took a sip at her 'cordial,' watching with artistic appreciation +the gay scene in the Manor dining-room--the twinkling lights on the +silver and glass and flowers--the elegant dresses of the women,--the +jewels that flashed like starbeams on the lovely neck and shoulders +of Lady Beaulyon,--the ripples of gold-auburn in Maryllia's hair,-- +it was a picture that radiated with a thousand colours on the eye +and the brain, and was certainly one destined, so far as many of +those who formed a part of it were concerned, never to be forgotten. +Not that there was anything very remarkable or brilliant in the +conversation at the dinner-table,--there never is nowadays. Peeple +dine with their friends merely to eat, not to talk. One never by any +chance hears so much even as an echo of wit or wisdom. Occasionally +a note of scandal is struck,--and more often than not, a +questionable anecdote is related, calculated to bring 'a blush to +the cheek of the Young Person,' if a Young Person who can blush +still exists, and happens to be present. But as a rule, the general +habitude of the dining class is to discourse in a very desultory and +inconsequential, not to say stupid, style, and the guests at the +Manor proved no exception to the rule. Sir Morton Pippitt fired off +bumptious observations at Walden, who paid no heed to them--Bruce +Ittlethwaite of Ittlethwaite Park, found a congenial spirit in Lord +Charlemont, and talked sport right through the repast--and Louis +Gigue enlivened the table by a sudden discussion with Mr. Marius +Longford, relative to the position of art in Great Britain. + +"Mon Dieu!" he exclaimed, with a snap of his fingers--"Ze art is +dead in Angleterre,--zere is no musique, ze poesie. Zis is ze land +of ze A-penny journal--ze musique, ze poesie, ze science, ze +politique, ze sentiment,--one A-penny! Bah! Ca, ce, n'est pas +possible!--zis pauvre pays is kill avec ze vulgarite of ze cheap! Ze +people are for ze cheap--for ze photographic, instead of ze picture- +-ze gramophone, instead of ze artist fingers avec ze brain--et ze +literature--it is ze cheap 'imitation de Zola,' qui obtient les +eloges du monde critique a Londres. Vous ecrivez?"--and he shook his +finger at Longford--"Bien'! Ecrivez un roman qui est sain, pure et +noble--et ze A-penny man vill moque de ca--mais--ecrivez of ze dirt +of ze human naturel, et voila! Ze A-penny man say 'Bon! Ah que c'est +l'art! Donnes moi l'ordure que je peux sentir! C'est naturel! C'est +divin! C'est l'art!'" + +A murmur, half of laughter, half of shocked protest, went round the +table. + +"I think," said Mr. Longford, with a pale smile--"that according to +the school of the higher criticism, we must admit the natural to be +the only divine." + +Gigue's rolling eyes gleamed under his shaggy hair. + +"Je ne comprends pas!"--he said--"Ven ze pig squeak, c'est naturel-- +ce n'est pas divin! Ven ze man scratch ze flea, c'est naturel--ce +n'est pas divin! Ze art ne desire pas ze picture of ze flea! Ze +literature n'existe pas pour ze squeak of ze pig! Ah, bah! L'art,-- +c'est l'imagination--l'ideal--c'est le veritable Dieu en l'homme!" + +Longford gave vent to a snigger, which was his way of laughing. + +"God is an abstract illusion,"--he said--"One does not introduce a +non-available quantity in the summing up of facts!" + +"Ah! Vous ne croyez pas en Dieu?" And Gigue ruffled up his grey hair +with one hand. "Mais--a quoi bon! Ca ne sert rien! Dieu pent exister +sans votre croyance, Monsieur!--je vous jure!" + +And he laughed--a hearty laugh that was infectious and carried the +laughter of everyone else with it. Longford, irritated, turned to +his next neighbour with some trite observation, and allowed the +discussion to drop. But Walden had heard it, and his heart went out +to Gigue for the manner in which he had, for the moment at least, +quenched the light of the 'Savage and Savile.' + +Up at the end of the table at which he, Walden, sat, things were of +rather a strained character. Lord Roxmouth essayed to be witty and +conversational, but received so little encouragement in his sallies +from Maryllia, that he had to content himself with Lady Wicketts, +whom he found a terrible bore. Sir Morton Pippitt, eating heartily +of everything, was gradually becoming purple in the face and +somnolent under the influence of wine and food,--Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay, tired of trying to 'draw' Walden on sundry topics, got +cross and impatient, the more so as she found that he could make +himself very charming to the other people in his immediate vicinity, +and that, as the dinner proceeded, he 'came out' as it were, very +unexpectedly in conversation, and proved himself not only an +intellectually brilliant man, but a socially entertaining one. Lord +Roxmouth glanced at him curiously from time to time with growing +suspicion and disfavour. He was not the kind of subservient, half +hypocritical, mock-meek being that is conventionally supposed to +represent a country 'cure.' His independent air, his ease of manner, +and above all, his intelligence and high culture, were singularly +displeasing to Lord Roxmouth, especially as he noticed that Maryllia +listened to everything Walden said, and appeared to be more +interested in his observations than in those of anyone else at the +table. Exchanging a suggestive glance with Lady Beaulyon, Roxmouth +saw that she was taking notes equally with himself on this +circumstance, and his already hard face hardened, and grew colder +and more inflexible as Walden, with a gaiety and humour irresistibly +his own, kept the ball of conversation rolling, and gradually drew +to his own strong and magnetic personality, the appreciative +attention of nearly all present. + +Truth to tell, a sudden exhilaration and excitement had wakened up +John's latent forces,--Maryllia's eyes, glancing half timidly, half +wistfully at him, and her fair face, slightly troubled in its +expression, had moved him to an exertion of his best powers to +please her, and make everything bright and gay around her. Instinct +told him that some secret annoyance fretted her--and watching her +looks, and noting the monosyllabic replies she gave to Lord Roxmouth +whenever that distinguished personage addressed her, he decided, +with a foolish thrill at his heart, that the report of her intended +marriage with this nobleman could not be true--she could never look +so coldly at anyone she loved! And with this idea paramount in his +brain he gave himself up to the humour of the hour--and by and by +heads were turned in his direction, and people whispered--'Is that +the parson of the parish?'--and when the answer was given in the +affirmative, wondering glances were exchanged, and someone at the +other end of the table remarked sotto voce:--'Much too brilliant a +man for the country!'--whereat Miss Arabella Ittlethwaite bridled up +and said she 'hoped nobody thought that town offered the only +samples of the human brain worth noticing,' as she would, in that +case, 'beg to differ.' Whereat there ensued a lively discussion, +which ended, so far as the general experience went, in the decision +that clever men were always born or discovered in the country, but +that after a while they invariably went up to town, and there became +famous. + +Presently, the dinner drawing to an end, dessert, coffee and the +smoking conveniences for both ladies and gentlemen were handed +round,--cigars for the gentlemen, cigarettes for both gentlemen and +ladies. All the women helped themselves to cigarettes, as a matter +of course, with the exception of Miss Ittlethwaite,--(who, as a +'county' lady of the old school, sat transfixed with horror at the +bare idea of being expected to smoke)--poor old Miss Fosby, and +Maryllia. And now occurred an incident, in itself trifling, but +fraught with strange results to those immediately concerned. Lady +Beaulyon was just about to light her own cigarette when, in +obedience to a sudden thought that flashed across her brain, she +turned her lovely laughing face round towards Walden, and said: + +"As there's a clergyman present, I'm sure we ought to ask his +permission before we light up! Don't you think it very shocking for +women to smoke, Mr. Walden?" + +He looked straight at her--his face paling a little with a sense of +strongly suppressed feeling. + +"I have always been under the impression that English ladies never +smoke,"--he said, quietly, with a very slight emphasis on the word +'ladies.' "The rest, of course, must do as they please!" + +Had a bombshell suddenly exploded in the dining-room, the effect +could hardly have been more stupefying than these words. There was +an awful pause. The women, holding the unlit cigarettes delicately +between their fingers, looked enquiringly at their hostess. The men +stared; Lord Roxmouth laughed. + +Maryllia turned white as a snowdrop--but her eyes blazed with sudden +amazement, indignation and pride that made lightning in their tender +blue. Then,--deliberately choosing a cigarette from the silver box +which had been placed on the table before her, she lit it,--and +began to puff the smoke from her rosy lips in delicate rings, +turning to Lord Roxmouth as she did so with a playful word and +smile. It was enough;--the 'lead' was given. A glance of approval +went the round of her London lady guests--who, exonerated by her +prompt action from all responsibility, lighted their cigarettes +without further ado, and the room was soon misty with tobacco fumes. +Not a word was addressed to Walden,--a sudden mantle of fog seemed +to have fallen over him, covering him up from the consciousness of +the company, for no one even glanced at him, except covertly,--no +one appeared to have heard or noticed his remark. Lord Charlemont +looked, as he felt, distressed. In his heart he admired Walden for +his boldness in speaking out frankly against a modern habit of women +which he also considered reprehensible,--but at the same time he +recognised that the reproof had perhaps been administered too +openly. Walden himself sat rigid and very pale--he fully realised +what he had done,--and he knew he was being snubbed for it--but he +did not care. + +"Better so!"--he said to himself in an inward rage--"Better that I +should never see her again than see her as she is now! She wrongs +herself!--and I cannot be a silent witness of her wrong, even though +it is wrought by her own hand!" + +The buzz of talk now grew more loud and incessant;--he saw Sir +Morton Pippitt's round eyes fixed upon him with an astonished and +derisive stare,--and he longed for the moment to come when he might +escape from the whole smoking, chattering party. All that his own +eyes consciously beheld was Maryllia--Maryllia, the dainty, pretty, +delicate feminine creature who seemed created out of the finest +mortal and spiritual essences,--smoking! That cigarette stuck in her +pretty mouth, vulgarised her appearance at once,--coarsened her-- +made her look as if she were indeed the rapid 'Maryllia Van' his +friend Bishop Brent had written of. What did he care if not a soul +at that table ever spoke to him again? Nothing! But he cared--oh, he +cared greatly for any roughening touch on that little figure of +smooth white and rose flesh, which somehow he had, unconsciously to +himself, set in a niche for thoughts higher than common! He was +quite aware that he had committed a social error, yet he was sorry +she could not have reproved him in some other fashion than that of +deliberately doing what he had just condemned as unbecoming to a +lady. And his mind was in a whirl, when at last she rose to give the +signal to adjourn, passing out of the dining-room without a glance +in his direction. + +The moment she had vanished, he at once prepared to leave, not only +the room, but the house. No one offered to detain him. The men were +all too conscious of what they considered his 'faux pas'--and they +were also made rather uncomfortable by the decided rebuff he had +received from their hostess. Yet they all liked him, and were, in +their way, sorry for what had occurred. Lord Roxmouth, with the easy +assurance of one who is conscious of his own position, remarked with +kindly banter:-- + +"Won't you stay with us, Mr. Walden? Are you obliged to go?" + +Walden looked at him unflinchingly, yet with a smile. + +"When a man elects to speak his mind, Lord Roxmouth, his room is +better than his company!" + +And with this he left them--to laugh at him if they chose--caring +little whether they did or not. Passing into the hall, he took his +hat and coat,--he was angry with himself, yet not ashamed,--for +something in his soul told him that he had done rightly, even as a +minister of the Gospel, to utter a protest against the vulgarising +of womanhood. He stepped out into the courtyard--the moon was +rising, and the air was very sweet and cool. + +"I was wrong!"--he said, half aloud--"And yet I was right! I should +not have said what I did,--and yet I should! If no man is ever bold +enough to protest again the voluntary and fast-increasing self- +degradation of women, then men will be most to blame if the next +generation of wives and mothers are shameless, unsexed, indecorous, +and wholly unworthy of their life's mission. How angry she looked! +Possibly she will never speak to me again. Well, what does it +matter! The wider apart our paths are set, the better!" + +He reached the gate of the courtyard, and was about to pass through +it, when a little fluttering figure in white, with crimson in its +rough dark hair, rushed after him. It was Cicely. + +"Don't go, please Mr. Walden!" she said, breathlessly; and he saw, +even by the light of the moon, that her eyes were wet--"Please don't +go! Maryllia wishes to speak to you." + +He turned a pale, composed face upon her. + +"Where?" + +"In the picture-gallery. She is alone there. She saw you cross the +courtyard, and sent me after you. All the other people are in the +drawing-room, waiting to hear me sing--and I must run, for Gigue is +there, and he is so impatient! Please, Mr. Walden!"--and Cicely's +voice shook--"Please don't mind if Maryllia is angry! She IS angry! +But it's all on the surface--she doesn't really mean it--she +wouldn't be unkind for all the world! I know what you said,--I was +watching the dinner-party from the ante-room and I saw everything-- +and--and--I think you were just splendid!--it's horrid for women to +smoke--but they nearly all do it nowadays--only I never saw Maryllia +do it before, and oh, Mr. Walden, make it all right with her, +please!" + +For a moment John hesitated. Then a kind smile softened his +features. + +"I can't quite promise that, Cicely,--but I'll do my best!" And +taking her hand he patted it gently, as she furtively dashed one or +two tear-drops from her lashes--"Come, come, you mustn't cry! Run +away and sing like the little nightingale you are--don't fret---" + +"But you'll go to Maryllia, won't you?" she urged, anxiously. + +"Yes. I'll go!" + +She lifted her dark eyes, and he saw how true and full of soul they +were, despite their witch-like wildness and passion. Just then a +stormy passage of music, played on the piano, and tumbling out, as +it seemed, on the air through the open windows of the Manor drawing- +room, reminded her that she was being waited for by her impetuous +and impatient maestro. + +"That's the signal for me!" she said--"I must run! But oh do, do +make it up with Maryllia and be friends!" + +She rushed away. He waited till she had disappeared, then turning +back through the courtyard, slowly re-entered the house. + + + + +XXIII + + +The lights were burning low and dimly in the picture-gallery when he +entered it and saw Maryllia there, pacing restlessly up and down, +the folds of her dress with the 'diamants' sparkling around her as +she moved, like a million little drops of frost on gossamer, while +her small head, lifted proudly on its slim arched throat, seemed to +his heated fancy, as though crowned with fresh coronals of gold +woven from the summer sun. Turning, she confronted him and paused +irresolute,--then, with a sudden impulsive gesture, came forward +swiftly,--her cheeks flaming crimson,--her lips trembling, and her +bosom heaving with its quickened breath like that of a fluttered +bird. + +"How dare you!" she said, in a low, strained voice--"How dare you!" + +He met her eyes,--and in that moment individual and personal +considerations were swept aside, and only the Right and the Wrong +presented themselves to his mental vision, like witnesses from a +higher world, invisible but omnipotent, waiting for the result of +the first clash of combat between two human souls. Yielding to his +own over-mastering emotion, and reckless of consequences, he caught +her two hands lightly in his own. + +"And how dare YOU!" he said earnestly,--"Little girl, how dare YOU +so hurt yourself!" + +They gazed upon one another,--each one secretly amazed at the +other's outbreak of feeling,--she grown white and speechless,--he +with a swift strong sense of his own power and authority as a mere +man, nerving him to the utterance of truth for her sake--for her +sake!--regardless of all forms and ceremonies. Then he dropped her +hands as quickly as he had grasped them. + +"Forgive me!" he said, very softly,--and paused, till recovering +more of his self-possession, he continued quietly--"You should not +have sent for me, Miss Vancourt! Knowing that I had offended you, I +was leaving your house, never intending to enter it again. Why did +you summon me back? To reproach me? It would be kinder to spare me +this, and let me go my own way!" + +He waited for her to speak. But she was silent. Anger, humiliation +and wounded pride, mingled with a certain struggling respect and +admiration for his boldness, held her mute. She little knew how +provocatively lovely she looked as she stood haughtily immovable, +her eyes alone flashing eloquent rebellion;--she little guessed that +John committed the picture of her fairness to the innermost +recording cells of his brain, there to be stored up preciously, and +never forgotten. + +"I am sorry,"--he resumed--"that I spoke as I did just now at your +table--because you are angry with me. But I cannot say that I am +sorry for any other reason--" + +At this Maryllia found her voice suddenly. + +"You have insulted my guests---" + +"Ah, no!" said John, almost with a smile--"Women who are habitual +smokers are not easily insulted! They are past that, believe me! The +fine susceptibilities which one might otherwise attribute to them +have been long ago blunted. They do not command respect, and +naturally, they can scarcely expect to receive it." + +"I do not agree with you!" retorted Maryllia, with rising warmth, as +she regained her self-control, and with it her deep sense of +irritation--"You were rude,--and rudeness is unpardonable! You said +as much as to imply that none of the women present were ladies---" + +"None of those who smoked were!"--said John, coolly. + +"Mr. Walden! I myself, smoked!" + +"You did,"--and he moved a step or two nearer to her, his whole face +lighting up with keen emotion--"And why did you? The motive was +intended to be courteous--but the principle was wrong!" + +"Wrong!" she echoed, angrily--"Wrong?" + +"Yes--wrong! Have you never been told that you can do one thing +wrong among so many that you do right, Miss Vancourt?" he asked, +with great gentleness--"You had it in your power to show your true +womanliness by refusing to smoke,--you could, in your position as +hostess, have saved your women friends from making fools of +themselves--yes--the word is out, and I don't apologise for it!"-- +here a sudden smile kindled in his fine eyes--"And you could also +have given them all an example of obedience." + +"Obedience!" exclaimed Maryllia, astonished,--"What do you mean? +Obedience to whom?" + +"To me!" replied John, with perfect composure. + +She gazed at him, scarcely believing she had heard aright. + +"To you?" she repeated--"To you?" + +"Why certainly!" said John, wondering even as he spoke at his own +ease and self-assurance--"As minister of the parish I am the only +person here that is set in authority over you--and the first thing +you do is to defy me!" + +His manner was whimsical and kindly,--his tone of voice playfully +tender, as though he were speaking to some naughty child whom, +notwithstanding its temper, he loved too well to scold,--and +Maryllia was completely taken aback by this unexpected method of +treating her combative humour. Her pretty mouth opened like a +rosebud,--she seemed as though she would speak, but only an +inarticulate murmur came from her parted lips; while the very +faintest lurking suspicion of a smile crept dimpling over her face, +to be lost again in the hostile expression of her eyes. + +"You say I was rude,"--he went on,--"If I was, need you have been +rude too?" + +She found utterance quickly. + +"I was not rude---" she began. + +"Pardon me,--you were! Rude to me--and still more rude to yourself! +The last was the worst affront, in my opinion!" + +"I do not understand you," she said, impatiently--"Your ideas of +women are not those of the present day---" + +"Thank God, they are not!" he replied--"I am glad to be in that +respect, old-fashioned! You say you do not understand me. Now that +is not true! You do understand! You know very well that if I was +rude in my UNpremeditated speech, you were much more rude in your +premeditated act!--that of deliberately spoiling your womanly self +by doing what you know in your own heart was--will you forgive me +the word?--unwomanly!" + +Maryllia flushed red. + +"There is no harm in smoking," she said, coldly;--"it is quite the +usual thing nowadays for ladies to enjoy their cigarettes. Why +should they not? It is nothing new. Spanish women have always +smoked--Austrian and Italian women smoke freely without any adverse +comment--in fact, the custom is almost universal. English women have +been the last, certainly, to adopt it--but then, England is always +behind every country in everything!" + +She spoke with a hard flippancy,--and she knew it. Walden's eyes +darkened into a deeper gravity. + +"Miss Vancourt, this England of ours was once upon a time not +behind, but BEFORE every nation in the whole world for the +sweetness, purity and modesty of its women! That it has become one +with less enlightened races in the deliberate unsexing and +degradation of womanhood does not now, and will not in the future, +redound to its credit. But I am prolonging a discussion uselessly,-- +" He waited a moment. "I shall trouble you no more with my opinions, +believe me,--nor shall I ever again intrude my presence upon +yourself or your guests,"--he continued, slowly,--"As I have already +said, I am sorry to have offended YOU,--but I am not sorry to have +spoken my mind! I do not care a jot what your friends from London +think of me or say of me,--their criticism, good or bad, is to me a +matter of absolute indifference--but I had thought--I had hoped---" + +He paused,--his voice for the moment failing him. Maryllia looked at +his pale, earnest face, and a sudden sense of shamed compunction +smote her heart. Her anger was fast cooling down,--and with the +swift change of mood which made her so variable and bewitching, she +said, more gently: + +"Well, Mr. Walden? You thought--you hoped?" + +"That we might be friends,"--he answered, quietly--"But I see +plainly that is impossible!" + +She was silent. He stood very still,--his eyes wandering +involuntarily to the painted beauty of 'Mary Elia Adelgisa de +Vaignecourt,' which he had admired and studied so often for many +lonely years, and back again along the dimly lit gallery to that +unveiled portrait of the young bride who never came home, the mother +of the little proud creature who confronted him with such fairy-like +stateliness and pretty assertion of her small self in combat against +him, and upon whom his glance finally rested with a lingering +sadness and pain. Then he said in a low tone: + +"Good-night, Miss Vancourt--good-bye!" + +At this a cloud of distress swept across her mobile features. "There +now!" she said to herself--"He's going away and he'll never come to +the Manor any more! I intended to make him quite ashamed of himself- +-and he isn't a bit! So like a man! He'd rather die than own himself +in the wrong--besides he ISN'T wrong,--oh dear!--he mustn't go away +in a huff!" + +And with a sudden yielding sweetness and grace of action of which +she was quite unconscious, she extended her hands to him-- + +"Oh, no, Mr. Walden!" she said, earnestly--"I am not so angry as all +that! Not good-bye!" Hardly knowing what he did, he took her +offered hands and held them tenderly in his own. + +"Not good-bye!" she said, trembling a little, and flushing rose-red +with a certain embarrassment--"I don't really want to quarrel--I +don't indeed! We--we were getting on so nicely together--and it is +so seldom one CAN get on with a clergyman!"--here she began to +laugh--"But you know it was dreadful of you, wasn't it?--at any rate +it sounded dreadful--when you said that English ladies never smoked- +--" + +"Neither they do,"--declared John resolutely, yet smilingly, "Except +by way of defiance!" + +She glanced up at him,--and the mirthful sparkle in his eyes was +reflected in her own. + +"You are very obstinate!" she said, as she drew her hands away from +his--"But I suppose you really do think smoking is wrong for women?" + +His heart was beating, his pulses thrilling under the influence of +her touch, her appealing look and sudden change of manner,--but he +was not to be moved from his convictions, though all the world +should swim round him in a glamour of blue eyes and gold hair. + +"I think so, most certainly!" + +"But why?" + +He hesitated. + +"Well, the act of smoking in itself is not wrong--but the +associations of the habit are unfit for womanhood. I know very well +that it has become usual in England for ladies to smoke,--most +unfortunately--but there are many habits and customs in this country +as well as in others, which, because they are habitual, are not the +less, but rather the more, pernicious. I confess to a strong +prejudice against smoking women." + +"But men smoke--why should not women smoke also?" persisted +Maryllia. + +Walden heard this plea with smiling patience. + +"Men,--a very large majority of them too--habitually get drunk. Do +you think it justifiable for women to get drunk by way of following +the men's example?" + +"Why no, of course not!"--she answered quickly--"But drunkenness is +a vice---" + +"So is smoking! And it is quite as unhealthy as all vices are. There +have been more addle-pated statesmen and politicians in England +since smoking became a daily necessity with, them than were ever +known before. I don't believe in any human being who turns his brain +into a chimney. And.--pardon me!--when YOU deliberately put that +cigarette in your mouth---" + +"Well!" and a mischievous dimple appeared on each soft cheek as she +looked up--"What did you think of me? Now be perfectly frank!" + +"I will!" he said, slowly, with an earnest gravity darkening in his +eyes--"I should not be your true friend if I were otherwise! But if +I tell you what I thought--and what I may say I know from long +experience all honest Englishmen think when they see a woman +smoking--you must exonerate me in your mind and understand that my +thoughts were only momentary. I knew that your better, sweeter self +would soon reassert its sway!" + +Her head drooped a little--she was quite silent. + +"I thought,"--he went on, "when I saw you actually smoking, that +something strange and unnatural had happened to you! That you had +become, in some pitiful way, a different woman to the one that +walked with me, not so long ago, and showed me her old French damask +roses blossoming in the border!"--he paused an instant, his voice +faltering a little,--then he resumed, quietly and firmly--"and that +you had, against all nature's best intentions for you, descended to +the level of Lady Beaulyon---" + +She interrupted him by a quick gesture--- + +"Eva Beaulyon is my friend, Mr. Walden!" + +"No--not your friend!"--he said steadily--"Forgive me! You asked me +to speak frankly. She is a friend to none except those of her own +particular class and type---" + +"To which I also belong,"--said Maryllia, with a sudden flash of +returning rebellion--"You know I do!" + +"I know you do NOT!" replied Walden, with some heat--"And I thank +God for it! I know you are no more of her class and type than the +wood lily is like the rank and poisonous marsh weed! Oh, child!--why +do you wrong yourself! If I am too blunt and plain in what I say to +you, let me cease speaking--but if you ask ME as your friend--as +your minister!"--and he emphasised the word--"to tell you honestly +my opinion, have patience with my roughness!" + +"You are not rough," she murmured,--and a little contraction in her +throat warned her of the possible rising of tears--"But you are +scarcely tolerant!" + +"I cannot be tolerant of the demoralisation of womanhood!"--he said, +passionately--"I cannot look on with an easy smile when I see the +sex that SHOULD be the saving purity of the world, deliberately +sinking itself by its own free will and choice into the mire of the +vulgarest social vice, and parting with every redeeming grace, +modesty and virtue that once made it sacred and beautiful! I am +quite aware that there are many men who not only look on, but even +encourage this world-wide debasement of women in order to bring them +down on a par with themselves--but I am not one of these. I know +that when women cease to be womanly, then the sorrows of the world, +already heavy, will be doubled and trebled! When men come to be +ashamed of their mothers--as many of them are to-day--there will be +but little hope of good for future generations! And the fact that +there are many women of title and position like your guest, Lady +Beaulyon, who deliberately drag their husband's honour through the +dust and publicly glory in their own disgrace, does not make their +crime the less, but rather the more criminal. You know this as well +as I do! You are not of Lady Beaulyon's class or type--if you were, +I should not waste one moment of my time in your presence!" + +She gazed at him speechlessly. And now from the drawing room came +the sound of Cicely's voice, clear, powerful, and as sweet as +legends tell us the voices of the angels are-- + + "Luna fedel, tu chiama + Col raggio ed io col suon, + La fulgida mia dama + Sul gotico veron!" + +"You know," he went on impetuously--"You know I told you before that +I am not a society man. I said that if I came to dinner to meet your +London friends, I should be very much in the way. You have found me +so. A man of my age and of my settled habits and convictions ought +to avoid society altogether. It is not possible for him to +accommodate himself to it. For instance,--see how old-fashioned and +strait-laced I am!--I wish I had been miles away from St. Rest +before I had ever seen you smoking! It is a trifle, perhaps,--but it +is one of those trifles which stick in the memory and embitter the +mind!" + +Around them the air seemed to break and divide into pulsations of +melody as Cicely sang: + + "Diro che sei d'argente + D'opale, d'ambra e d'or, + Diro che incanti il vento, + E che innamori i fior!" + +"You have seemed to me such an ideal of English womanhood!"--he went +on dreamily, hardly aware how far his words were carrying him--"The +sweet and fitting mistress of this dear old house, richly endowed as +it is with noblest memories of the noble dead! Their proud and +tender spirit has looked out of your eyes--or so I have fancied;-- +and you are naturally so kind and gentle--you have been so good to +the people in the village,--they all love you--they all wish to +think well of you;--for you have proved yourself practically as well +as emotionally sympathetic to them. And, above all things, you have +appeared so pre-eminently delicate and dainty in your tastes--so +maidenly!--I should as soon have expected to see the Greek Psyche +smoking as you!" + +She took a swift step towards him, and laid her hand on his arm. + +"Can't you forget it?" she said. + +He looked at her. Her eyes were humid, and her lips trembled a +little. + +"Forget what?" he asked gently. + +"That I smoked!" + +He hesitated a second. + +"I will try!" + +"You see!"--went on Maryllia, coaxingly--"we shall have to live in +the same parish, and we shall be compelled to meet each other often- +-and it would never do for you to be always thinking of that +cigarette! Now would it?" + +He was silent. The little hand on his arm gave an insistent +pressure. + +"Of course when you conjure up such an awful picture as Psyche +smoking, I know just how you feel about it!" And her eyes sparkled +up at him with an arch look which, fortunately for his peace of +mind, his own eyes did not meet,--"And naturally you must hold very +strong opinions on the subject,--dreadfully strong! But then--nobody +has ever thought me at all like Psyche before--so you so--you see!-- +" She paused, and John began to feel his heart beating uncomfortably +fast. "It's very nice to be compared to Psyche anyhow!--and of +course she would look impossible and awful with a cigarette in her +mouth! I quite understand! She couldn't smoke,--she wouldn't!--and-- +and--_I_ won't! I won't really! You won't believe me, I expect,--but +I assure you, I never smoke! I only did it this evening, because,-- +because,--well!--because I thought I ought to defend my own sex +against your censure--and also perhaps--perhaps out of a little bit +of bravado! But, I'm sorry! There! Will you forgive me?" + +Nearly, very nearly, John lost his head. Maryllia had used the +strongest weapon in all woman's armoury,--humility,--and he went +down before it, completely overwhelmed and conquered. A swirl of +emotion swept over him,--his brain grew dizzy, and for a moment he +saw nothing in earth or heaven but the sweet upturned face, the soft +caressing eyes, the graceful yielding form clad in its diaphanous +draperies of jewelled gossamer,--then pulling himself together with +a strong effort which made him well-nigh tremble, he took the small +hand that lay in white confidence on his arm, and raised it to his +lips with a grave, courtly, almost cold reverence. + +"It is you to forgive ME, Miss Vancourt!"--he said, unsteadily. "For +I am quite aware that I committed a breach of social etiquette at +your table,--and--and--I know I have taken considerable liberty in +speaking my mind to you as I have done. Even as your minister I fear +I have overstepped my privileges---" + +"Oh, please don't apologise!" said Maryllia, quickly--"It's all +over, you know! You've said your say, and I've said mine--and I'm +sure we both feel better for it. Don't we?" + +John smiled, but his face was very pale, and his eyes were troubled. +He was absorbed in the problem of his own struggling emotions--how +to master them--how to keep them back from breaking into passionate +speech,--and her bewitching, childlike air, half penitent, half +mischievous, was making sad havoc of his self-possession. + +"We are friends again now,"--she went on--"And really,--really we +MUST try and keep so!" + +This, with a quaint little nod of emphatic decision. + +"Do you think it will be difficult?" he asked, looking at her more +earnestly and tenderly than he himself was aware of. + +She laughed, and blushed a little. + +"I don't know!--it may be!" she said--"You see you've twice ruffled +me up the wrong way! I was very angry--oh, very angry indeed, when +you coolly stopped the service because we all came in late that +Sunday,--and to-night I was very angry again---" + +"But I was NOT angry!" said John, simply--"And it takes two to make +a quarrel!" + +She peeped at him from under her long lashes and again the fleeting +blush swept over her fair face. + +"I must go now!"--she said--"Won't you come into the drawing-room?-- +just to hear Cicely sing at her very best?" + +"Not to-night,"--he answered quickly--"If you will excuse me---" + +"Of course I will excuse you!" and she smiled--"I know you don't +like company." + +"I very much DISLIKE it!" he said, emphatically--"But then I'm quite +an unsociable person. You see I've lived alone here for ten years--- +" + +"And you want to go on living alone for another ten years--I see!" +said Maryllia--"Well! So you shall! I promise I won't interfere!" + +He looked at her half appealingly. + +"I don't think you understand,"--he said,--then paused. + +"Oh yes, I understand perfectly!" And she smiled radiantly. "You +like to be left quite to yourself, with your books and flowers, and +the bits of glass for the rose-window in the church. By the bye, I +must help you with that rose-window! I will get you some genuine old +pieces--and if I find any very rare specimens of medieval blue or +crimson you'll be so pleased that you'll forget all about that +cigarette--you know you will!" + +"Miss Vancourt,"--he began earnestly--"if you will only believe that +it is because I think so highly of you--because you have seemed to +me so much above the mere society woman that I---I---" + +"I know!" she said, very softly--"I quite see your point of view!" + +"You are not of the modern world,"--he went on, slowly--"Not in your +heart--not in your real tastes and sentiments;--not yet, though you +may possibly be forced to become one with it after your marriage---" + +"And when will that be?" she interrupted him smiling. + +His clear, calm blue eyes rested upon her gravely and searchingly. + +"Soon surely,--if report be true!" + +"Really? Well, you ought to know whether the date has been fixed +yet,"--she said, very demurely--"Because, of course YOU'LL have to +marry me!" + +Something swayed and rocked in John's brain, making the ground he +stood upon swerve and seem unsteady. A wave of colour flushed his +bronzed face up to the very roots of his grey-brown hair. Maryllia +watched him with prettily critical interest, much as a kitten +watches the rolling out of a ball of worsted on which it has just +placed its little furry paw. Hurriedly he sought in his mind for +something to say. + +"I---I---don't quite understand,"--he murmured. + +"Don't you?" and she smiled upon him blandly--"Surely you wouldn't +expect me to be married in any church but yours, or by any clergyman +but you?" + +"Oh, I see!" And Maryllia mentally commented--'So do I!'--while he +heaved a sigh unconsciously, but whether of relief or pain it was +impossible to tell. Looking up, he met her eyes,--so deep and blue, +so strangely compassionate and tender! A faint smile trembled on her +lips. + +"Good-night, Mr. Walden!" + +"Good-night!" he said; then suddenly yielding to the emotion which +mastered him, he made one swift step to her side--"You will forgive +me, I know!--you will think of me presently with kindness, and with +patience for my old-fashioned ways!--and you will do me the justice +to believe that if I seemed rude to your guests, as you say I was, +it was all for your sake!--because I thought you deserved more +respect from them than that they should smoke in your presence,--and +also, because I felt--I could not help feeling that if your father +had been alive he would not have allowed them to do so,--he would +have been too precious of you,--too careful that nothing of an +indecorous or unwomanly nature should ever be associated with you;-- +and--and--I spoke as I did because it seemed to me that someone +SHOULD speak!--someone of years and authority, who from the point of +experience alone, might defend you from the contact of modern +vulgarity;--so--so--I said the first words that came to me--just as +your father might have said them!--yes!--just as your father might +have spoken,--for you--you know you seem little more than a child to +me!--I am so much older than you are, God help me!" + +Stooping, he caught her hands and kissed them with a passion of +which he was entirely unconscious,--then turned swiftly from her and +was gone. + +She stood where he had left her, trembling a little, but with a +startled radiance in her eyes that made them doubly beautiful. She +was pale to the lips;--her hands,--the hands he had kissed, were +burning. Suddenly, on an impulse which she could not have explained +to herself, she ran swiftly out of the picture-gallery and into the +hall where,--as the great oaken door stood open to the summer +night,--she could see the whole flower-garlanded square of the Tudor +court, gleaming like polished silver in the intense radiance of the +moon. John Walden was walking quickly across it,--she watched him, +and saw him all at once pause near the old stone dial which at this +season of the year was almost hidden by the clambering white roses +that grew around it. He took off his hat and passed his hand over +his brows with an air of dejection and fatigue,--the moonlight fell +full on the clear contour of his features,--and she drew herself and +her sparkling draperies well back into the deep shadow of the portal +lest he should catch a glimpse of her, and, perhaps,--so seeing her, +return-- + +"And that would never do!" she thought, with a little tremor of fear +running through her which was unaccountably delicious;--"I'm sure it +wouldn't!--not to-night!" + +The air was very warm and sultry,--all the windows of the Manor were +thrown open for coolness,--and through those of the drawing-room +came the lovely vibrations of Cicely's pure fresh voice. She was +singing an enchanting melody on which some words of Julian +Adderley's, simple and quaint, without having any claim to +particular poetic merit, floated clearly with distinct and perfect +enunciation-- + + "A little rose on a young rose-tree + Shed all its crimson blood for me, + Drop by drop on the dewy grass, + Its petals fell, and its life did pass; + Oh little rose on the young rose-tree, + Why did you shed your blood for me? + + "A nightingale in a tall pine-tree + Broke its heart in a song for me, + Singing, with moonbeams around it spread, + It fluttered, and fell at my threshold, dead;-- + Oh nightingale in the tall pine-tree, + Why did you break your heart for me? + + "A lover of ladies, bold and free, + Challenged the world to a fight for me, + But I scorn'd his love in a foolish pride, + And, sword in hand, he fighting died! + Oh lover of ladies, bold and free, + Why did you lose your life for me?" + +And again, with plaintive insistence, the last two lines were +repeated, ringing out on the deep stillness of the summer night-- + + "Oh lover of ladies, told and free, + Why did you lose yowr life for me?" + +The song ceased with a clash of chords. It was followed by a subdued +clapping of hands,--a pause of silence--and then a renewed murmur of +conversation. Walden looked up as if suddenly startled from a +reverie, and resumed his quick pace across the courtyard,--and +Maryllia, seeing him go, advanced a little more into the gleaming +moonlight to follow him with her eyes till he should quite +disappear. + +"Upon my word, a very quaint little comedy!" said a coldly mocking +voice behind her--"A modern Juliet gazing pathetically after the +retiring form of a somewhat elderly clerical Romeo! Let me +congratulate you, Miss Maryllia, on your newest and most brilliant +achievement,--the conquest of a country parson! It is quite worthy +of you!" + +And turning, she confronted Lord Roxmouth. + + + + +XXIV + + +For a moment they looked at each other. The smile on Roxmouth's face +widened. + +"Come, come, Maryllia!" he said, easily--"Don't be foolish! The airs +of a tragedy queen do not suit you. I assure you I haven't the least +objection to your amusing yourself with a parson, if you like! The +conversation in the picture-gallery just now was quite idyllic--all +about a cigarette and Psyche! Really it was most absurd!--and the +little sermon of the enamoured clergyman to his pretty penitent was +as unique as it was priggish. I'm sure you must have been vastly +entertained! And the final allusion he made to his age--THAT was a +masterstroke of pathos!--or bathos? Which? Du sublime au ridicule il +n'y'a qu'un pas, Madame!" + +Her eyes were fixed unswervingly upon him. + +"So you listened!" she said. + +"Naturally! One always listens to a comedy if it is played well. +I've been listening all the evening. I've listened to your waif and +stray, Cicely Bourne, and am perfectly willing to admit that she is +worth the training you are giving her. It's the first time I've +heard her sing to advantage. I've listened to Eva Beaulyon's +involved explanation of a perfectly unworkable scheme for the +education of country yokels (who never do anything with education +when they get it), on which she is going to extract twenty thousand +pounds for herself from the pockets of her newest millionaire- +victim. I've listened to the Bludlip Courtenay woman's enthusiastic +description of a new specific for the eradication of wrinkles and +crowsfeet. I've listened to that old bore Sir Morton Pippitt, and to +the afflicting county gossip of the lady in green,--Miss +Ittlethwaite is her name, I believe. And, getting tired of these +things, I strolled towards the picture-gallery, and hearing your +delightful voice, listened there. I confess I heard more than I +expected!" + +Without a word in response, she turned from him and began to move +away. He stretched out a hand and caught her sleeve. + +"Maryllia, wait! I must speak to you--and I may as well say what I +have to say now and get it over." + +She paused. Lifting her eyes she glanced at him with a look of utter +scorn and contempt. He laughed. + +"Come out into the moonlight!"--he said--"Come and walk with me in +this romantic old courtyard. It suits you, and you suit it. You are +very pretty, Maryllia! May I--notwithstanding the parson--smoke?" + +She said nothing. Drawing a leather case from his pocket, he took a +cigar out and lit it. + +"Silence gives consent,"--he went on--"Besides I'm sure you don't +mind. You know plenty of men who can never talk comfortably without +puffing smoke in between whiles. I'm one of that sort. Don't look at +me like Cleopatra deprived of Marc Antony. Be reasonable! I only +want to say a few plain matter-of-fact words to you---" + +"Say them then as quickly as possible, please,"--she replied--"I am +NOT a good listener!" + +"No? Now I should have thought you were, judging by the patience +with which you endured the parson's general discursiveness. What a +superb night!" He stepped from the portal out on the old flagstones +of the courtyard. "Take just one turn with me, Maryllia!" + +Quietly, and with an air of cold composure she came to him, and +walked slowly at his side. He looked at her covertly, yet +critically. + +"I won't make love to you,"--he said presently, with a smile-- +"because you tell me you don't like it. I will merely put a case +before you and ask for your opinion! Have I your permission?" + +She bent her head slightly. Her throat was dry,--her heart was +beating painfully,--she knew Roxmouth's crafty and treacherous +nature, and her whole soul sickened as she realised that now he +could, if he chose, drag the name of John Walden through a mire of +social mud, and hold it up to ridicule among his own particular +'set,' who would certainly lose no time in blackening it with their +ever-ready tar-brush. And it was all through her--all through her! +How would she ever forgive herself if his austere and honourable +reputation were touched in ever so slight a degree by a breath of +scandal? Unconsciously, she clasped her little hands and wrung them +hard--Roxmouth saw the action, and quickly fathomed the inward +suffering it indicated. + +"You know my dearest ambition,"--he went on,--"and I need not +emphasise it. It is to call you my wife. If you consent to marry me, +you take at once a high position in the society to which you +naturally belong. But you tell me I am detestable to you--and that +you would rather die than accept me as a husband. I confess I do not +understand your attitude,--and, if you will allow me to say so, I +hardly think you understand it yourself. You are in a state of +uncertainty--most women live always in that state;--and your +vacillating soul like a bewildered butterfly--you see I am copying +the clerical example by dropping into poetry!--and a butterfly, NOT +a cigarette, is I believe the correct emblem of Psyche,--" here he +took a whiff at his cigar, and smiled pleasantly--"your soul, I +repeat, like a bewildered butterfly, has lighted by chance on a +full-flowering parson. The flight--the pause on that maturely-grown +blossom of piety, is pardonable,--but I cannot contemplate with +pleasure the idea of your compromising your name with that of this +sentimental middle-aged individual who, though he may be an +excellent Churchman, would make rather a grotesque lover!" + +She remained silent. Glancing sideways at her, he wondered whether +it was the moonlight that made her look so set and pale. + +"But I said I would put a case before you,"--he continued, "and I +will. Here are you,--of an age to be married. Here am I,--anxious to +marry you. We are neither of us growing younger--and delay seems +foolish. I offer you all I am worth in the world--myself, my name +and my position. You have refused me a score of times, and I am not +discouraged--you refuse me still, and I am not baffled. But I ask +why? I am not deformed or idiotic. I would try to make you happy. A +woman is best when she has entirely her own way,--I would let you +have yours. You would be free to follow your own whims and caprices. +Provided you gave me lawful heirs, I should ask no more of you. No +reasonable man ought to ask more of any reasonable woman. Life could +be made very enjoyable to us both, with a little tact and sense on +either side. I should amuse myself in the world, and so I hope, +would you. We understand modern life and appreciate its +conveniences. The freedom of the matrimonial state is one of those +conveniences, of which I am sure we should equally take advantage." + +He puffed at his cigar for a few minutes complacently. + +"You profess to hate me,"--he went on--"Again I ask, why? You tell +your aunt that you want to be 'loved.' You consider love the only +lasting good of life. Well, you have your desire. _I_ love you!" + +She raised her eyes,--and then suddenly laughed. + +"You!" she said--"You 'love' me? It must be a very piecemeal sort of +love, then, for I know at least five women to whom you have said the +same thing!" + +He was in nowise disconcerted. + +"Only five!" he murmured lazily--"Why not ten--or twenty? The more +the merrier! Women delight in bragging of conquests they have never +made, as why should they not? Lying comes so naturally to them! But +I do not profess to be a saint,--I daresay I have said 'I love you' +to a hundred women in a certain fashion,--but not as I say it to +you. When I say it to you, I mean it." + +"Mean what?" she asked. + +"Love." + +She stopped in her walk and faced him. + +"When a man loves a woman--really loves her,"--she said, "Does he +persecute her? Does he compromise her in society? Does he try to +scandalise her among her friends? Does he whisper her name away on a +false rumour, and accuse her of running after him for his title, +while all the time he knows it is he himself that is running after +her money? Does he make her life a misery to her, and leave her no +peace anywhere, not even in her own house? Does he spy upon her, and +set others to do the same?--does he listen at doors and interrogate +servants as to her movements--and does he altogether play the +dastardly traitor to prove his 'love'?" + +Her voice shook--her eyes were ablaze with indignation. Roxmouth +flicked a little ash off his cigar. + +"Why, of course not!" he replied--"But who does these dreadful +things? Are they done at all except in your imagination?" + +"YOU do them!" said Maryllia, passionately--"And you have always +done them! When I tell you once and for all that I have given up +every chance I ever had of being my aunt's heiress--that I shall +never be a rich woman,--and that I would far rather die a beggar +than be your wife, will you not understand me?--will you not leave +me alone?" + +He looked at her with quizzical amusement. + +"Do you really want to be left alone?" he asked--"Or in a 'solitude +a deux'--with the parson?" + +She was silent, though her silence cost her an effort. But she knew +that the least word she might say concerning Walden would be +wilfully misconstrued. She knew that Roxmouth was waiting for her to +burst out with some indignant denial of his suggestions--something +that he might twist and turn in his own fashion and repeat +afterwards to all his and her acquaintances. She cared nothing for +herself, but she was full of dread lest Walden's name should be +bandied up and down on the scurrilous tongues of that 'upper class' +throng, who, because they spend their lives in nothing nobler than +political intrigue and sensual indulgence, are politely set aside as +froth and scum by the saner, cleaner world, and classified as the +'Smart Set.' Roxmouth watched her furtively. His clear-cut face, +white skin and sandy hair shone all together with an oily lustre in +the moonlight;--there was a hard cold gleam in his eyes. + +"It would be a pretty little story for the society press," he said, +after a pause--"How the bewitching Maryllia Vancourt resigned the +brilliancy of her social life for a dream of love with an elderly +country clergyman! By Heaven! No one would believe it! But,"--and he +waited a minute, then continued--"It's a story that shall never be +told so far as I am concerned--if--" He broke off, and looked +meditatively at the end of his cigar. "There is always an 'if'-- +unfortunately!" + +Maryllia smiled coldly. + +"That is a threat,"--she said--"But it does not affect me! Nothing +that you can do or say will make me consent to marry you. You have +slandered me already--you can slander me again for all I care. But I +will never be your wife." + +"You have said so before,"--he observed, placidly--"And I have put +the question many times--why?" + +She looked at him steadily. + +"Shall I tell you?" + +"Do! I shall appreciate the favour!" + +For a moment she hesitated. A great pain and sorrow clouded her +eyes. + +"No woman marries a leper by choice!"--she said at last, slowly. + +He glanced at her,--then shrugged his shoulders. + +"You talk in parables. Pardon me if I am too dull to understand +you!" + +"You understand me well enough,"--she answered--"But if you wish it, +I will speak more plainly. I dream of love---" + +"Most women do!" he interrupted her, smilingly--"And I am sure you +dream charmingly. But is a middle-aged parson part of the romantic +vision?" + +She paid no heed to this sarcasm. She had moved a pace or two away +from him, and now stood, her head slightly uplifted, her eyes turned +wistfully towards the picturesque gables of the Manor outlined +clearly in the moon against the dense night sky. + +"I dream of love!"--she repeated softly,--while he, smoking +tranquilly, and looking the very image of a tailor's model in his +faultlessly cut dress suit, spotless shirt front, and aggressively +neat white tie, studied her face, her figure and her attitude with +amused interest--"But my dream is not what the world offers me as +the dream's realisation! The love that I mean--the love that I seek- +-the love that I want--the love that I will have,"--and she raised +her hand involuntarily with a slight gesture which almost implied a +command--"or else go loveless all my days--is an honest love,-- +loyal, true and pure!--and strong enough to last through this life +and all the lives to come!" + +"If there are any!"--interpolated Roxmouth, blandly. + +She looked at him,--and a vague expression of something like +physical repulsion flitted across her face. + +"It is no use talking to you,"--she said--"For you believe in +nothing--not even in God! You are a man of your own making--you are +not a man in the true sense of manhood. How can you know anything of +love? You will not find it in the low haunts of Paris where you are +so well known,--where your name is a byword as that of an English +'milord' who degrades his Order!" + +"What do YOU know of the low haunts of Paris?" he queried with a +cold laugh--"Is Louis Gigue your informant?' + +"I daresay Louis Gigue knows as much of you as most men do,"--she +replied, quietly--"But I never speak of you to him. Indeed, I never +speak of you at all unless you are spoken of, and not always then. +You do not interest me sufficiently!" + +She moved towards the house. He followed her. + +"Your remarks have been somewhat rambling and disjointed,"--he said- +-"But essentially feminine, after all. And they merely tend to one +thing--that you are still an untamed shrew!" + +She looked back at him over her shoulder. Her eyes gleamed in the +moonlight,--a faint smile curved her pretty mouth. + +"If I am, it will need someone braver than you are to tame me!" she +said--"A trickster is always a coward!" + +With an angry exclamation he flung away the end of his cigar,--it +fell into a harmless bed of mignonette and seared the sweet blossom, +burning redly in the green like a wicked eye. And then he caught her +hand firmly and held it grasped as in a vice. + +"You insult me!" he said, thickly--"And I shall not forget it! You +talk as a child talks--though you are no child! You are a woman of +the world--you have travelled--you have had experience--and you know +men. You are perfectly aware that the sentimental 'love' you speak +of exists nowhere except in poems and story-books--you know that no +sane man alive would tie himself to one woman save for the law's +demand that his heirs shall be lawfully born. You are no shrinking +maid in her teens, that you should start and recoil or blush, at the +truth of the position, and it is the merest affectation on your part +to talk about 'love lasting forever,' for you are perfectly aware +that it cannot last very long over the honeymoon. The natural state +of man is polygamous. Englishmen are the same as Turks or Hottentots +in this respect, except for the saving grace of hypocrisy, which is +the chief prop of European civilisation. If it were not for +hypocrisy, we should all be savages as utterly and completely as in +primaeval days! You know all this as well as I do--and yet you feign +to desire the impossible, while all the time you play the fool with +a country parson! But I'll make you pay for it--by Heaven, I will! +You scorn me and my name--you call me a social leper---" + +"You are one!" she said, wrenching her hand from his clasp--"And +what is more, you know it, and you glory in it! Who are your +associates? Men who are physically or morally degenerate--women who, +so long as their appetites are satisfied, seek nothing more! You +play the patron to a certain literary 'set' who produce books unfit +to be read by any decent human being,--you work your way, by means +of your title and position, through society, contaminating +everything you touch! You contaminate ME by associating my name with +yours!--and my aunt helps you in the wicked scheme! I came here to +my own home--to the house where my father died--thinking that +perhaps here at least I should find peace,"--and her voice shook as +with tears--"that here, at least, the old walls might give me +shelter and protection!--but even here you followed me with your +paid spy, Marius Longford--and I have found myself surrounded by +your base tools almost despite myself! But even if you try to hound +me into my grave, I will never marry you! I would rather die a +hundred times over than be your wife!" + +His face flushed a dark red, and he suddenly made an though he would +seize her in his arms. She retreated swiftly. + +"Do not touch me!" she said, in a low, strained voice--"It will be +the worse for you if you do!" + +"The worse for me--or for YOU?" he muttered fiercely,--then +regaining his composure, he burst into an angry laugh. "Bah! You are +nothing but a woman! You fling aside what you have, and pine for +what you have not! The old, old story! The eternal feminine!" + +She made no reply, but moved on towards the house. "Quel +ravissement de la lune!" exclaimed a deep guttural voice at this +juncture, and Louis Gigue came out from the dark embrasure of the +Manor's oaken portal into the full splendour of the moonlight--"Et +la belle Mademoiselle Vancourt is ze adorable fantome of ze night! +Et milord Roxmouth ze what-you-call?--ze gnome!--ze shadow of ze +lumiere! Ha-ha! C'est joli, zat little chanson of ze little rose- +tree! Ze music, c'est une inspiration de Cicely--and ze words are +not so melancolique as ze love-songs made ordinairement en +Angleterre! Oui--oui!--c'est joli!" + +He turned his shrewd old face up to the sky, and blinked at the dim +stars,--there was a smile under his grizzled moustache. He had +interrupted the conversation between his hostess and her +objectionable wooer precisely at the right moment, and he knew it. +Roxmouth's pale face grew a shade paler, but he made a very good +assumption of perfect composure, and taking out his case of cigars +offered one to Gigue, who cheerfully accepted it. Then he lit one +for himself with a hand that trembled slightly. Maryllia, pausing on +the step of the porch as she was about to enter, turned her head +back towards him for a moment. + +"Are you staying long at Badsworth Hall?" she asked. + +"About a fortnight or three weeks,"--he answered carelessly, "Mr. +Longford is doing some literary work and needs the quiet of the +country--and Sir Morton Pippitt is good enough to wish us to extend +our visit." + +He smiled as he spoke. She said nothing further, but slowly passed +into the house. Gigue at once began to walk up and down the +courtyard, smoking vigorously, and talking volubly concerning the +future of his pupil Cicely Bourne, and the triumph she would make +some two years hence as a 'prima donna assoluta,' far greater than +Patti ever was in her palmiest days,--and Roxmouth was perforce +compelled, out of civility, as well as immediate diplomacy, to +listen to him with some show of interest. + +"Do you think an artistic career a good thing for a woman?" he +asked, with a slight touch of satire in his voice as he put the +question. + +Gigue glanced up at him quickly and comprehendingly. + +"Ah, bah! Pour une femme il n'y'a qu'une chose--l'Amour!" he +replied--"Mais--au meme temps--l'Art c'est mieux qu'un mariage de +convenance!" + +Roxmouth shrugged his shoulders deprecatingly, smiled tolerantly, +and changed the subject. + +That same evening, when everyone had retired to bed, and when Mrs. +Bludlip Courtenay was carefully taking off her artistically woven +'real hair' eyebrows and putting them by in a box for the night, +Lady Beaulyon, arrayed in a marvellous 'deshabille' of lace and pale +blue satin, which would have been called by the up-to-date modiste +'a dream of cerulean sweetness,' came into her room with dejection +visibly written on her photographically valuable features. + +"It's all over, Pipkin!" she said, with a sigh,--Pipkin was the +poetic pet-name by which the 'beauty' of the press-paragraphist +addressed her Ever-Youthful friend,--"We shall never get a penny out +of Mrs. Fred Vancourt. Maryllia is a mule! She has told me as +plainly as politeness will allow her to do that she does not intend +to know either you or me any more after we have left here--and you +know we're off to-morrow. So to-morrow ends the acquaintance. That +girl's 'cheek' is beyond words! One would think she was an empress, +instead of being a little bounder with only an old Manor-house and +certainly not more than two thousand a year in her own right!" + +'Pipkin' stared. That she was destitute of eyebrows, save for a few +iron-grey bristles where eyebrows should have been, and that her +beautiful Titian hair was lying dishevelled on her dressing table, +were facts entirely lost sight of in the stupefaction of the moment. + +"Maryllia Vancourt does not intend to know US!" she ejaculated,-- +"Nonsense, Eva! The girl must be mad!" + +"Mad or sane, that's what she says,"--and Eva Beaulyon turned away +from the spectacle of her semi-bald and eyebrow-less confidante with +a species of sudden irritation and repulsion--"She declares we are +in the pay of her aunt and Lord Roxmouth. So we are, more or less! +And what does it matter! Money must be had--and whatever way there +is of getting it should be taken. I laughed at her, and told her +quite frankly that I would do anything for money,--flatter a +millionaire one day and cut him the next, if I could get cheques for +doing both. How in the world should I get on without money?--or you +either! But she is an incorrigible little idiot--talks about honour +and principle exactly like some mediaeval story-book. She declares +she will never speak to either of us again after we've gone away to- +morrow. Of course we can easily reverse the position and turn the +tables upon her by saying we will not speak to her again. That will +be easy enough--for I believe she's after the parson." + +Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay's eyes lightened with malignity. + +"What, that man who objected to our smoke?" + +Lady Beaulyon nodded. + +"And I think Roxmouth sees it!"--she added. + +'Pipkin' looked weirdly meditative and curiously wizened for a +moment. Then she suddenly laughed and clapped her hands. + +"That will do!" she exclaimed--"That's quite good enough for US! +Mrs. Fred will pay for THAT information! Don't you see?" + +Lady Beaulyon shook her head. + +"Don't you? Well, wait till we get back to town!"--and 'Pipkin' took +up her false hair and shook it gently, as she spoke--"We can do +wonders--wonders, I tell you, Eva! And till we go, we'll be as nice +to the girl as we can,--go off good friends and all that sort of +thing--tell her how much we've enjoyed ourselves--thank her +profusely,--and then once away we'll tell Mrs. Fred all about John +Walden, and leave her to do as she likes with the story. That will +be quite enough! If Maryllia has any sneaking liking for the man, +she'll do anything to save HIS name if she doesn't care about saving +her own!" + +"Oh, I see now!" and Lady Beaulyon's eyes sparkled up with a gleam +of malice--"Yes--I quite understand!" + +'Pipkin' danced about the room in ecstasy,--she was half undressed +for the night, and showed a pair of exceedingly thin old legs under +an exceedingly short young petticoat. + +"Maryllia Vancourt and a country parson!" she exclaimed, "The whole +thing is TOO delicious! Go to bed, Eva! Get your beauty sleep or +you'll have ever so many more wrinkles than you need! Good-night, +dearest! If Maryllia declines to know US, we shall soon find +excellent reasons for not knowing HER! Good-night!" + +With a shrill little laugh, the lady kissed her dear friend +affectionately--and if the caress was not returned with very great +fervour, it may be presumed that this coldness was due more to the +unlovely impression created by the night 'toilette' of the Ever- +Youthful one, than anything else. Anyway the two social schemers +parted on the most cordial terms, and retired to their several +couches with an edifying sense of virtue pervading them both morally +and physically. + +And while they and others in the Manor were sleeping, Maryllia lay +broad awake, watching the moonbeams creeping about her room like +thin silver threads, interlacing every object in a network of pale +luminance,--and listening to the slow tick-tock of the rusty +timepiece in the courtyard which said, 'Give all--take nothing-- +give--all--take--no--thing!'--with such steady and monotonous +persistence. She was sad yet happy,--perplexed, yet peaceful;--she +had decided on her own course of action, and though that course +involved some immediate vexation and inconvenience to herself, she +was satisfied that it was the only one possible to adopt under the +irritating circumstances by which she was hemmed in and surrounded. + +"It will be best for everyone concerned,"--she said, with a sigh-- +"Of course it upsets all my plans and spoils my whole summer,--but +it is the only thing to do--the wisest and safest, both for--for Mr. +Walden--and for me. I should be a very poor friend if I could not +sacrifice myself and my own pleasure to save him from possible +annoyance,--and though it is a little hard--yes!--it IS hard!--it +can't be helped, and I must go through with it. 'Home, Home, sweet +Home!' Yes--dear old Home!--you shall not be darkened by a shadow of +deceit or treachery if _I_ can prevent it!--and for the present, my +way is the only way!" + +One or two tears glittered on her long lashes when she at last fell +into a light slumber, and the old pendulum's rusty voice croaking +out: 'Give all--take no--thing' echoed hoarsely through her dreams +like a harsh command which it was more or less difficult to obey. +But life, as we all know, is not made up of great events so much as +of irritating trifles,--poor, wretched, apparently insignificant +trifles, which, nevertheless do so act upon our destinies sometimes +as to put everything out of gear, and make havoc and confusion where +there should be nothing but peace. It was the merest trifle that Sir +Morton Pippitt should have brought his 'distinguished guests,' +including Marius Longford, to see John Walden's church--and also +have taken him to visit Maryllia in her own home;--it was equally +trifling that Longford, improving on the knightly Bone-Melter's +acquaintance, should have chosen to import Lord Roxmouth into the +neighbourhood through the convenient precincts of Badsworth Hall;-- +it was a trifle that Maryllia should have actually believed in the +good faith of two women who had formerly entertained her at their +own houses and whose hospitality she was anxious to return;--and it +was a trifle that John Walden should, so to speak, have made a +conventionally social 'slip' in his protest against smoking women;-- +but there the trifles stopped. Maryllia knew well enough that only +the very strongest feeling, the very deepest and most intense +emotion could have made the quiet, self-contained 'man o' God' as +Mrs. Spruce called him, speak to her as he had done,--and she also +knew that only the most bitter malice and cruel under-intent to do +mischief could have roused Roxmouth, usually so coldly self-centred, +to the white heat of wrath which had blazed out of him that evening. +Between these two men she stood--a quite worthless object of regard, +so she assured herself,--through her, one of them was like to have +his name torn to shreds in the foul mouths of up-to-date salacious +slanderers,--and likewise through her, the other was prepared and +ready to commit himself to any kind of lie, any sort of treachery, +in order to gain his own interested ends. Small wonder that tears +rose to her eyes even in sleep--and that in an uneasy and confused +dream she saw John Walden standing in his garden near the lilac-tree +from which he had once given her a spray,--and that he turned upon +her a sad white face, furrowed with pain and grief, while he said in +weary accents--"Why have you troubled my peace? I was so happy till +you came!" And she cried out--"Oh, let me go away! No one wants me! +I have never been loved much in all my life--but I am loving enough +not to wish to give pain to my friends--let me go away from my dear +old home and never come back again, rather than make you wretched!" + +And then with a cry she awoke, shivering and half-sobbing, to feel +herself the loneliest of little mortals--to long impotently for her +father's touch, her father's kiss,--to pray to that dimly-radiant +phantom of her mother's loveliness which was pictured on her brain, +and anon to stretch out her pretty rounded arms with a soft cry of +mingled tenderness and pain--"Oh, I am so sorry!--so sorry for HIM! +I know he is unhappy!--and it's all my fault! I wish--I wish---" + +But what she wished she could not express, even to herself. Her +sensitive nature was keenly alive to every slight impression of +kindness or of coldness;--and the intense longing for love, which +had been the pulse of her inmost being since her earliest infancy, +and which had filled her with such passionate devotion to her father +that her grief at his loss had been almost abnormally profound and +despairing, made her feel poignantly every little incident which +emphasised, or seemed to emphasise, her own utter loneliness in the +world; and she was just now strung up to such a nervous tension, +that she would almost have consented to wed Lord Roxmouth if by so +doing she could have saved any possible mischief occurring to John +Walden through Roxmouth's malignancy. But the shuddering physical +repulsion she felt at the bare contemplation of such a marriage was +too strong for her. + +"Anything but that!"--she said to herself, with something of a +prayer--"O dear God!--anything but that!" + +Sometimes God hears these little petitions which are not of the +orthodox Church. Sometimes, as it seems, by a strange chance, the +cry of a helpless and innocent soul does reach that vast Profound +where all the secrets of life and destiny lie hidden in mysterious +embryo. And thus it happens that across the din and bustle of our +petty striving and restless disquietudes there is struck a sudden +great silence, by way of answer,--sometimes it is the silence of +Death which ends all sorrow,--sometimes it is the sweeter silence of +Love which turns sorrow into joy. + +Next day all the guests at the Manor had departed with the exception +of three--Louis Gigue, and the 'Sisters Gemini,' namely, Lady +Wicketts and Miss Fosby. With much gush and gratitude for a +'charming stay--a delightful time!' Lady Beaulyon and Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay took leave of their 'dear Maryllia,' who received their +farewells and embraces with an irresponsively civil coldness. Lord +Charlemont and Mr. Bludlip Courtenay 'motored' to London, +undertaking with each other to keep up a speed of fifty miles an +hour, provided there were not too many hills and not too much +'slowing down' for the benefit of unexpected policemen round +corners. And at sunset, a pleasant peace and stillness settled on +the Manor grounds, erstwhile disturbed by groups of restless persons +walking aimlessly to and fro,--persons who picked flowers merely to +throw them away again, and played tennis and croquet only to become +quarrelsome and declare that the weather was much too hot for games. +Everybody that was anybody had gone their ways,--and within her own +domicile Mrs. Spruce breathed capaciously and freely, and said in +confidence to the cook and to Primmins: + +"Thank the Lord an' His mercies, that's all over! An' from what I +hears, Miss Maryllia won't be wantin' no more London folks for a +goodish bit o' time, an' we'll all 'ave peace to turn round an' look +at ourselves an' find out whether we're sane or silly, for the two +old leddies what is stayin' on give no trouble at all, an' that Mr. +Gigg don't care what he gets, so long as he can bang away on the +pianner an' make Miss Cicely sing, an' I will own she do sing lovely +like the angels in a 'evenly 'ost, but there!--_I_ don't want no +more company, for what with French maids an' valets, all talkin' the +wickedest stuff I ever heard about the ways an' doins o' their +masters an' missises in London, I'm downright glad to be rid o' the +whole lot! For do what we will, there is limits to patience, an' a +peaceful life is what suits me best not knowin' for the past three +weeks whether my 'ead or my 'eels is uppermost with the orderin' an' +messin' about, though I will say Miss Maryllia knows what's what, +an' ain't never in a fuss nor muddle, keepin' all wages an' bills +paid reg'lar like a hoffice clerk, mebbe better, for one never knows +whether clerks pays out what they're told or keeps some by in their +own pockets, honesty not bein' always policy with the likes o' they. +Anyway 'ere we are all alive an' none the worse for the bustle, +which is a mercy, an' now mebbe we'll have time to think a bit as we +go, an' stop worrittin' over plates an' dishes an' glass an' silver, +which, say what we like, do sit on one like a burden when there's a +many to serve. A bit o' quiet 'ull do us all good!" + +The 'quiet' she thus eulogised was to be longer and lonelier than +she imagined, but of this she knew nothing. The whole house was +delightfully tranquil after the departure of the visitors, and the +spirit of a grateful repose seemed to have imparted itself to its +few remaining occupants. Louis Gigue played wonderful improvisations +on the piano that evening, and Cicely sang so brilliantly and +ravishingly that had she then stood on the boards of the Paris Grand +Opera, she would have created a wild 'furore.' Lady Wicketts knitted +placidly; she was making a counterpane, which no doubt someone would +reluctantly decide to sleep under--and Miss Fosby embroidered a +cushion cover for Lady Wicketts, who already possessed many of these +articles wrought by the same hand. Maryllia occupied herself in +writing many letters,--and all was peace. Nothing in any way +betokened a change, or suggested the slightest interruption to the +sun-lighted serenity of the long, lovely summer days. + + + + +XXV + + +Whatever the feelings of John Walden were concerning the incidents +that had led him to more or less give himself away, as the saying +goes, into Maryllia's hands, he remained happily unconscious of the +fact that Lord Roxmouth had overheard his interview with her in the +picture-gallery--and being a man who never brooded over his own +particular small vexations and annoyances, he had determined, as far +as might be possible, to put the whole incident behind him, as it +were, and try to forget it. Of course he knew he never could forget +it,--he knew that the sweet look in Maryllia's eyes--the little +appealing touch of her hand on his arm, would be perchance the most +vivid impressions of his life till that life should be ended. But it +was useless to dwell with heart-aching persistence on her +fascination, or on what he now called his own utter foolishness, and +he was glad that he had arranged to visit his old friend Bishop +Brent, as this enabled him to go away at once for three or four +days. And it was possible, so he argued with himself, that this +three or four days' break of the magnetic charm that had, against +his own wish and will, enslaved his thoughts and senses, would +restore him to that state of self-poise and philosophic tranquillity +in which he had for so many years found an almost, if not quite, +perfect happiness. Bracing himself fully up to the determination +that he would, at all hazards, make an effort to recover his lost +peace, he made rapid preparations for his departure from St. Rest, +and going the round of his parish, he let all whom it might concern +know, that for the first time in a long ten years, he was about to +take two or three days' holiday. The announcement was received by +some with good-natured surprise--by others with incredulity--but by +most, with the usual comfortable resignation to circumstances which +is such a prevailing characteristic of the rustic mind. + +"It'll do ye good, Passon, that it will!" said Mrs. Frost, in her +high acidulated voice, which by dint of constant scolding and +screaming after her young family had become almost raspish--"For +you're looking that white about the gills that it upsets my mind to +see it. I sez to Adam onny t'other day, 'You'll be diggin' a grave +for Passon presently--see if you don't--for he's runnin' downhill as +fast as a loaded barrow with naught ahint it.' That's what I said, +Passon--an' its Gospel true!" + +Walden smiled. + +"You're quite right, Mrs. Frost,"--he said, patiently--"I am +certainly going downhill, as you say--but I must try to put a little +check on the wheels! There's one thing to be said about it, if Adam +digs my grave, as it is likely he will, I know he will do it better +than any other sexton in the county! I shall sleep in it well, and +securely!" + +Mrs. Frost felt a certain sense of pride in this remark. + +"You may say that, Passon--you may say that and not be fur wrong,"-- +she said, complacently--"Adam don't do much, but what he doos is +well done, an' there's no mistake about it. If I 'adn't a known 'im +to be a 'andy man in his trade he wouldn't 'a had me to wife, I do +assure you!" + +Walden smiled and passed on. To Mr. Netlips, the grocer, he confided +a few orders for the household supplies during his absence, which +that worthy and sapient personage accepted with due attention. + +"It is a demonstrable dispensation, Mr. Walden, sir,"--he said, +"that you should be preparing yourself for locomotion at the moment +when the house-party at the Manor is also severed indistinguishably. +There is no one there now, so my imparted information relates, with +the exception of her ladyship Wicketts, a Miss Fosby and a hired +musician from the cells of the professional caterer, named Gigg." + +Walden's eyes twinkled. He was always very indulgent to Mr. Netlips, +and rather encouraged him than otherwise in his own special flow of +language. + +"Really!" he said--"And so they are all gone! I'm afraid it will +make a difference to your trade, Mr. Netlips! How about your Petrol +storage?" + +Mr. Netlips smiled, with a comfortable air of self-conscious wisdom. + +"It has been absorbed--quite absorbed," he said, complacently--"The +board of announcement was prospective, not penetrative. Orders were +consumed in rotation, and his lordship Charlemont was the last +applicant on the formula." + +"I see!" said Walden--"So you are no loser by the transaction. I'm +glad to hear it! Good-day! I only intend to be away a short time. +You will scarcely miss me,--as I shall occupy my usual post on +Sunday." + +"Your forethought, Mr. Walden, sir, is of a most high +complication,"--rejoined Mr. Netlips with a gracious bend of his fat +neck--"And it is not to be regretted by the profane that you should +rotate with the world, provided you are seen in strict adhesion to +the pulpit on the acceptable seventh day. Otherwise, it is but +natural that you should preamble for health's sake. You have been +looking poorly, Mr. Walden sir, of late; I trust you will +beneficially profit by change." + +Walden thanked him, and went his way. His spirits were gradually +rising--he was relieved to hear that Maryllia's house-party had +broken up and dispersed, and he cogitated within himself as to +whether he should go and say good-bye to her before leaving the +village, or just let things remain as they were. He was a little +uncertain as to which was the wisest course to adopt,--and while he +was yet thinking about it he passed the cottage of old Josey +Letherbarrow, and saw the old man sitting at his door peacefully +smoking, while at his feet, Ipsie Frost was curled up comfortably +like a kitten, busying herself in tying garlands of ivy and +honeysuckle round the tops of his big coarsely-laced boots. Pausing, +John leaned on the gate and looked at the two with a smile. + +"Ullo, Passon!" said Ipsie, turning her blue eyes up at him with a +confidential air--"Tum an' tie up my Zozey-Posey! Zozey-Posey's bin +naughty,--he's dot to be tied up so he tan't move!" + +"And when he's good again, what then?" said Walden--"Will you untie +him?" + +Ipsie stared roundly and meditatively. + +"Dunno!"--she said--"'Specks I will! But oh, my Zozey-Posey IS so +bad!" and she screwed her little flaxen head round with an +expression of the most comical distress--"See my wip?" And she held +up a long stem of golden-rod in flower,--"Zozey dot to be wipped-- +poor Zozey! But he's dot to be tied up fust!" + +Josey heard all this nonsense babble with delighted interest, and +surveyed the tops of his decorated boots with much admiration. + +"Ain't she a little caution!" he said--"She do mind me somehow of +th' owld Squire's gel! Ay, she do!--Miss Maryllia was just as peart +and dauntsome when she was her age. Did I ever tell ye, Passon, +'bout Miss Maryllia's legs an' the wopses' nest?" + +John started violently. What was the old man talking about? He felt +that he must immediately put a stop to any chance of indecorous +garrulity. + +"No, you never told me anything about it, Josey,"--he said, +hastily,--"an I've no time just now to stay and listen. I'm off on a +visit for two or three days--you won't see me again till Sunday." + +Josey drew his pipe slowly out of his mouth. + +"Goin' away, Passon, are ye?" he said in quavering accents of +surprise--"Ain't that a bit strange like?" + +"Why yes, I suppose it is,"--said John, half laughing--"I never do +go away I know--but---" + +"Look 'ere Passon! Speak frank an' fair!--there baint nothin' +drivin' ye away, be there?" + +The hot colour sprang to Walden's brows. + +"Why no, Josey!--of course not! How can you think of such a thing?" + +Josey stooped and patted Ipsie's flaxen tangle of curls softly. Then +he straightened himself and looked fully into John's face. + +"Well I dunno how 'tis, Passon,"--he said, slowly--"When the body +gets old an' feels the fallin' o' the dark shadder, the soul begins +to feel young, an' sees all at once the light a-comin' which makes +all things clear. See this little child playin' wi' me?--well, she +don't think o' me as an old worn man, but as somethin' young like +herself--an' for why? Because she sees the soul o' me,--the eyes o' +the children see souls more'n bodies, if ye leave 'em alone an' +don't worrit 'em wi' worldly talk. An' it's MY soul wot sees more'n +my body--an' that's why I sez to ye, Passon, that if so be you've +any trouble don't run away from it! Stay an' fight it out--it's the +onny way!--fight it out!" + +Walden was for a moment taken aback. Then he answered steadily. + +"You're right, Josey! If I had any trouble I should stay and as you +say, fight it out;--but I've none, Josey!--none in the world! I am +as happy as I can be,--far happier than I deserve,--and I'm only +going away to see my old friend Bishop Brent--you remember--the +Bishop who consecrated the church seven years ago?"--Josey nodded +comprehensively, "He lives, as you know, quite a hundred miles from +here--but I shall be in my usual place on Sunday." + +"Please God, you will!" said Josey, devoutly--"And please God, so +shall I. But there's never no knowin' what may 'appen in a day or +two days---" + +Here Ipsie gave vent to a yell of delight. She had been groping +among the flowers in the cottage border, and now held up a deep red +rose, darkly glowing at its centre. + +"Wed wose!" she announced, screamingly--"Wed--all wed! For Passon! +Passon, tiss it!" + +John still leaning on the gate, reached down and took the flower, +kissing it as he was told, with lips that trembled on the velvet +leaves. It was one of the 'old French damask' roses--and its rich +scent, so soft and full of inexplicable fine delicacy, affected him +strangely. + +"'Ave ye heard as 'ow Miss Maryllia's goin' to marry that fine +gen'leman wot's at Badsworth?" pursued Josey, presently, beginning +to chuckle as he asked the question--"Roxmouth, they calls him;-- +Lord, Lord, what clicketin' talk, like all the grass-'oppers out for +a fairin'! She ain't goin' to marry no Roxmouths, bless 'er 'art!-- +she's goin' to stick to the old 'ome an' people, and never leave 'em +no more! _I_ knows her mind! She tells old Josey wot she don't tell +nobody else, you bet she do!" + +John Walden tried not to look interested. + +"Miss Vancourt will no doubt marry some day,"--he said, somewhat +lamely. + +"Av coorse she will!"--returned Josey--"When Mr. Right comes along, +she'll know 'im fast enough! Them blue eyes ain't goin' to be +deceived, _I_ tell ye! But she ain't goin' to be no Duchess as they +sez,--it's my 'pinion plain Missis is good 'nough for the Squire's +gel, if so be a lovin' an' true Mister was to ax 'er and say--'Will +'ee be my purty little wife, an' warm my cold 'art all the days o' +my life?'--an' there'd be no wantin' dukes nor lords round when +there's real love drivin' a man an' woman into each other's arms! +Lord--Lord, don't I know it! Seems but t'other day I was a fine man +o' thirty odd, an' walkin' under the hawthorns all white wi' bloom, +an' my wife that was to be strollin' shy like at my side--we was +kind o' skeered o' one another, courtin' without knowin' we was +courtin' ezackly, an' she 'ad a little blue print gown on an' a +white linen sunbonnet--I kin see 'er as clear an' plain as I see +you, Passon!--an' she looks up an' she sez--'Ain't it a lovely day, +Joe?' An' I sez--'Yes, it's lovely, an' you're lovely too!' An' my +'art gave a great dump agin my breast, an' 'fore I knowed it I 'ad +'er in my arms a-kissin' 'er for all I was worth! Ay, that was so-- +an' I never regretted them kisses under the may-trees, I tell ye! +An' that's what'll 'appen to Squire's gel--some good man 'ull walk +by 'er side one o' these days, an' won't know wot he's a-doin' of +nor she neither, an' love 'ull just come down an' settle in their +'arts like a broodin' dove o' the 'Oly Spirit, not speakin' +blasPHEmous, Passon, I do assure ye! For if Love ain't a 'Oly +Spirit, then there ain't no Lord God in the 'Love one another!' I +sez 'tis a 'Oly Spirit wot draws fond 'arts together an' makes 'em +beat true--and the 'Oly Spirit 'ull fall on Squire's gel in its own +time an' bring a blessin' with it. That's wot I sez,--are ye goin', +Passon?" + +"Yes--I'm going," said John in an uncertain voice, while Ipsie +stared up at him in sudden enquiring wonder, perhaps because he +looked so pale, and because the hand in which he held the rose she +had given him trembled slightly--"I've a number of things to do, +Josey--otherwise I should love to stop and hear you talk--you know I +should!" and he smiled kindly--"For you are quite right, Josey! You +have faith in the beautiful and the true, and so have I! I believe-- +yes--I believe that everything--even a great sorrow--is for the +best. We cannot see,--we do not know--but we should trust the Divine +mind of God enough to feel that all is, all must be well!" + +"That's so, Passon!" said Josey, with grave heartiness--"Stick to +that, an' we're all right. God bless ye! I'll see ye Sunday if I +ain't gone to glory!" + +Walden pulled open the garden gate to shake hands with the old man, +and to kiss Ipsie who, as he lifted her up in his arms, caressed his +cheeks with her two dumpy hands. + +"Has 'oo seen my lady-love?" she asked, in a crooning whisper--"My +bootiful white lady-love?" + +Walden looked at Josey perplexedly. + +"She means Miss Maryllia,"--said the old man--"That's the name she's +given 'er--lady-love--the thinkin' little imp she is! Where's lady- +love? Why she's in 'er own house--she don't want any little tags o' +babbies runnin' round 'er--your lady-love's got somethin' else to +do." + +"She AIN'T!" said Ipsie, with dramatic emphasis--"She tums an' sees +me often--'oo don't know nuffin' 'bout it! HAS 'oo seen 'er?" she +asked Walden again, taking hold of one end of his moustache very +tenderly. + +He patted the little chubby arm. + +"I saw her the other night,"--he said, a sudden rush of words coming +to his lips in answer to the child's query--"Yes, Ipsie,--I saw her! +She was all in white, as a lady-love should be--only there were +little flushes of pink on her dress like the sunset on a cloud--and +she had diamonds in her hair,"--Here Ipsie sighed a profound sigh of +comfortable ecstasy--"and she looked very sweet and beautiful--and-- +and"--Here he suddenly paused. Josey Letherbarrow was looking at him +with sudden interest. "And that's all, Ipsie!" + +"Didn't she say nuffin' 'bout me?" asked the small autocrat. + +Walden set her gently down on the ground. + +"Not then, Ipsie,"--he said--"She was very busy. But I am sure she +thought of you!" + +Ipsie looked quite contented. + +"'Ess,--my lady-love finks a lot, oh, a lot of me!" she said, +seriously--"Allus finkin' of me!" + +John smiled, and again shook old Josey's hand. + +"Good-bye till Sunday!" he said. + +"Good-bye, Passon!" rejoined Josey, cheerily--"Good luck t'ye! God +bless ye!" + +And the old man watched John's tall, slim athletic figure as long as +his failing sight could follow it, murmuring to himself-- + +"Who'd a thought it!--who'd 'a thought it! Yet mebbe I'm wrong--an' +mebbe I'm right!--for the look o' love never lightens a man's eyes +like that but once in his life--all the rest o' the sparkles is only +imitations o' the real fire. The real fire burns once, an' only +once--an' it's fierce an' hot when it kindles up in a man after the +days o' his youth are gone! An' if the real fire worn't in Passon's +eyes when he talked o' the lady-love, than I'm an old idgit wot +never felt my heart go dunt again my side in courtin' time!" + +Walden meanwhile went on his round of visits, and presently,--the +circle of his poorer parishioners being completed,-he decided to +call on Julian Adderley at his 'cottage in the wood' and tell him +also of his intended absence. He had taken rather a liking to this +eccentric off-shoot of an eccentric literary set,--he had found that +despite some slight surface affectations, Julian had very straight +principles, and loyal ideas of friendship, and that he was not +without a certain poetic talent which, if he studied hard and to +serious purpose, might develop into something of more or less +worthiness. Some lines that he had recently written and read aloud +to Walden, had a haunting ring which clung to the memory: + + + + Art thou afraid to live, my Heart? + Look round and see + What life at its best, + With its strange unrest, + Can mean for thee! + Ceaseless sorrow and toil, + Waits for each son of the soil; + And the highest work seems ever unpaid + By God and man, + In the mystic plan;-- + Think of it! Art thou afraid? + + Art thou afraid to love, my Heart? + Look well and see + If any sweet thing, + That can sigh or sing, + Hath need of thee! + Of Love cometh wild desire, + Hungry and fierce as fire, + In the souls of man and maid,-- + But the fulness thereof + Is the end of love,-- + Think of it! Art thou afraid? + + Art thou afraid of Death, my Heart? + Look down and see + What the corpse on the bed, + So lately dead, + Can teach to thee! + Is it the close of the strife, + Or a new beginning of Life? + The secret is not betrayed;-- + But Darkness makes clear + That Light must be near! + Think of it! Art thou afraid? + +"'Darkness makes clear, that Light must be near,'--I am sure that is +true!"--murmured John, as he swung along at a quick pace through a +green lane leading out of the village into the wider country, where +two or three quaint little houses with thatched roofs were nestled +among the fields, looking like dropped acorns in the green,--"It +must be true,--there are so many old saws and sayings of the same +kind, like 'The darkest hour's before the dawn.' But why should I +seek to console myself with a kind of Tupper 'proverbial +philosophy'? I have no black hour threatening me,--I have nothing in +the world to complain of or grumble at except my own undisciplined +nature, which even at my age shows me it can 'kick against the pricks' +and make a fool of me!" + +Here turning a corner of the road which was overshaded by a huge +chestnut-tree, he suddenly came face to face with the Reverend +Putwood Leveson, who, squatted on the hank by the roadside, with his +grand-pianoforte legs well exposed to view in tight brown +knickerbockers and grey worsted stockings, was bending perspiringly +over his recumbent bicycle, mending something which had, as usual, +gone wrong. + +"Hullo, Walden!" he said, looking up and nodding casually--"Haven't +seen you for an age! What have you been doing with yourself? Always +up at the Manor, I suppose! Great attraction at the Manor!--he-he- +he!" + +A certain quick irritation, like that produced by the teasing buzz +of some venomous insect, affected Walden's nerves. He looked at the +porcine proportions of his brother minister with an involuntary +sense of physical repulsion. Then he answered stiffly-- + +"I don't understand you. I have not been visiting at the Manor at +all. I dined there the night before last for the first and only +time." + +Leveson winked one purple puffy eyelid. Then he began his 'He-he-he' +again to himself, while he breathed hard and sweated profusely over +the rubber tyre of his machine. + +"Is that so?" he sniggered--"Well, that's all the better for you!-- +you do well to keep away! Men of our cloth ought not to be seen +there really." + +And scrambling to his feet with elephantine ease, he brushed the +dust from his knickers, and wiped his brows with an uncleanly +handkerchief which looked as if it had been used for drying oil off +the bicycle as well as off the man. + +"We ought not to be seen there,"--he repeated, disregarding Walden's +steady coldness of eye--"I myself made a great mistake when I wrote +to the woman. I ought not to have done so. But of course I did not +know--I thought it was all right." And the reverend gentleman +assumed an air of mammoth-like innocence--"I am so mediaeval, you +know!--I never suspect anything or anybody! I wrote to her in quite +a friendly way, suggesting that I should arrange her family papers +for her--I thought she might as well employ me as anyone else--and +she never answered my letter--never answered a word!" + +"Well, of course not!" said Walden, composedly, though his blood +began to tingle hotly through his veins with rising indignation-- +"Why should she? Her family papers are all in order, and no doubt +she considered your application both ignorant and impertinent." + +Leveson's gross countenance flushed a deeper crimson. + +"Ignorant and impertinent!" he echoed--"Come, I like that! Why she +ought to have considered herself uncommonly lucky to receive so much +as a civil letter from a respectable man,--such a woman as she is!-- +'Maryllia Van'--he-he-he-he!" + +Walden took a quick step towards him. + +"What do you mean?" he demanded--"What right have you to speak of +her in such a manner?" + +Leveson recoiled, startled by the intense pallor of Walden's face, +and the threatening light in his eyes. + +"What right?" he stammered--"Why--why what do yon mean by flaring up +in such a temper, eh? What does it matter to you?" + +"It matters this much,--that I will not allow Miss Vaneourt to be +insulted by you or anyone else!" retorted Walden, hotly--"You have +never spoken to her,--you know nothing about her,--so hold your +tongue!" + +The Reverend 'Putty's' round eyes protruded with amazement. + +"Hold--my--tongue!" he repeated, in a kind of stupefaction--"Are you +gone mad, Walden? Do you know who you are talking to?" + +John gave a short laugh. His hands clenched involuntarily. + +"Oh, I know well enough!" he said--"I am talking to a man who has no +more regard for a woman's name than a cat has for the mouse it +kills! I am talking to a man who is an ordained Christian minister, +who has less Christianity than a dog, which at least is faithful to +its master!" + +Leveson uttered a kind of inarticulate sound something between a +gasp and a grunt. Then he fell back on his old snigger. + +"He-he, he-he-he!" he bleated--"You must be crazy, Walden!--or else +you've been drinking! I've a perfect right to speak of the Abbot's +Manor woman IF I like and as I like! All men have a right to do the +same--she's been pretty well handed round as common property for a +long time! Why, she's perfectly notorious!--everybody knows that!" + +"You lie!" + +And Walden sprang at him, one powerful clenched fist uplifted. +Leveson staggered back in terror,--and so for a moment they +stood, staring upon one another. They did not hear a stealthy rustle +among the branches of the chestnut-tree near which they stood, nor +see a long lithe shadow creep towards them for the dense low-hanging +foliage. Face to face, eye to eye, they remained for a moment's +space as though ready to close and wrestle,--then suddenly Walden's +arm dropped to his side. + +"My God!" he muttered--"I nearly struck you!" + +Leveson drew a long breath of relief, and sneaked backward on his +heels. + +"You--you're a nice kind of 'ordained Christian minister' aren't +you?" he spluttered--"With all your humbug and cant you're no better +than a vulgar bully! A vulgar bully!--that's what you are! I'll +report you to the Bishop--see if I don't!--brow-beating me, and +putting me in bodily fear, all about a woman too! Great Scott!--a +fine scandal you'll make in the Church one of these days if you're +not watched pretty closely and pulled up pretty sharply--and pulled +up you shall be, take my word for it! We've had about enough of your +high-and-mighty airs--it's time you learned to know your place---" + +The words had scarcely left his mouth when a pair of long muscular +arms seized him by the shoulders, shook him briefly and +emphatically, and turning him easily over, deposited him flat in the +dust. + +"It is time--yea verily!--it is full time you learned to know your +place!" said Julian Adderley, calmly standing with legs-astride +across his fat recumbent body--"And there it is--and there you are! +My dear Walden, how are you? Excuse my shaking hands with you-- +having defiled myself, as the Orientals say, by touching unclean +meat, I must wash first!" + +For a moment Walden had been so taken aback by the suddenness of +Leveson's unexpected overthrow that he could scarcely realise what +had happened,--but presently when the Reverend 'Putty's' cobby legs +began to sprawl uneasily on the ground, and the Eeverend 'Putty' +himself gave vent to sundry blasphemous oaths and curses, he grasped +the full humour of the situation. A broad smile lit up his face. + +"That was a master-stroke, Adderley!" he said, and the smile +deepened into sudden laughter--"But how in the world did you come +here?" + +"I was here all the time,"--said Adderley, still standing across +Leveson's prostrate form--"Returning to the habits of primaeval +monkey as I often do, I was seated in the boughs of that venerable +chestnut-tree-and I heard all the argument. I enjoyed it. I was +hoping to see the Church militant belabour the Church recusant. It +would have been so new--so fresh! But as the sacred blow failed, the +secular one was bound to fall. Don't get up, my excellent sir!-- +don't, I beseech of you!" This to Leveson, who was trying by means +of the most awkward contortions to rise to a sitting posture--"You +will find it difficult--among other misfortunes your knickers will +burst, and there is no tailor close at hand. Spare yourself,--and +us!" + +"Oh give him a hand, Adderley!" said Walden, good-naturedly. "Help +him up! He's had his beating!" + +"He hasn't,"--declared Julian, with a lachrymose air of intense +regret--"I wish he had! He is less hurt than if he had fallen off +his bicycle. He is in no pain;--would that he were!" + +Here Leveson managed to partially lift himself on one side. +"Assault!" he stuttered--"Assault--common assault---" + +"AND battery,"--said Julian--"You can summons me, my dear sir--if +you feel so inclined! I shall be happy to explain the whole incident +in court--and also to pay the five pounds penalty. I only wish I +could have got more for my money. There's such a lot of you!--such a +lot!" he repeated, musingly, "And I've only sailed round such a +small portion of your vast fleshy continent!" + +Walden controlled his laughter, and stooping, offered to assist +Leveson to get up, but the indignant 'Putty' refused all aid, and +setting his own two hands firmly against the ground, tried again to +rise. + +"Remove your legs, sir!" he shouted to Julian, who still stood +across him in apparent abstraction--"How dare you--how dare you pin +me down in this fashion?--how dare---" + +Here his voice died away choked by rage. + +"You are witty without knowing it, my fat friend!" said Julian +languidly--"Legs, in slang parlance, are sometimes known as 'pins,'- +-therefore, when you say I 'pin' you down, you use an expression +which is, like the 'mobled queen' in Hamlet, good. Be unpinned, good +priest--and remember that you must be prepared to say your prayers +backwards, next time you slander a woman!" + +He relaxed his position, and Leveson with an effort scrambled to his +feet, covered with dust. Picking up his cap from the gutter where it +had fallen, he got his bicycle and prepared to mount it. He +presented a most unlovely spectacle--his face, swollen and crimson +with fury, seemed twice its usual size,--his little piggy eyes +rolled in his head like those of a man threatened with apoplexy--and +the oily perspiration stood upon his brow and trickled from his +carroty hair in great drops. + +"You shall pay for this!" he said in low vindictive tones, shaking +his fist at both Walden and Adderley--"There are one or two old +scores to be wiped off in this village, and mine will help to +increase the account! Your fine lady at the Manor isn't going to +have everything her own way, I can tell you--nor you either, you-- +you--you upstart!" + +With this last epithet hurled out at Walden, who, shrugging his +shoulders, received it with ineffable contempt, he got on his +machine and worked his round legs and round wheels together +furiously away. When his bulky form had disappeared, the two men he +had left behind glanced at one another, and moved by the same +risible emotion burst out laughing,--and once their laughter began, +they gave it full vent, Walden's mellow 'Ha-ha-ha!' ringing out on +the still air with all the zest and heartiness of a boy's mirth. + +"Upon my word, Adderley, you are a capital 'thrower'?" he said, +clapping Julian on the shoulder. "I never was more surprised in my +life than to see that monstrous 'ton of man' heave over suddenly and +sprawl in the dust! It was an artistic feat, most artistically +executed!" + +"It was--it was,--I think so myself!"--agreed Julian--"I am proud of +my own skill! That pious porpoise will not forget me in a hurry. You +see, my dear Walden, you merely threatened punishment,--you did not +inflict it,--I suppose out of some scruple of Church conscience, +which is quite a different conscience to the lay examples,--and it +was necessary to act promptly. The air of St. Rest is remarkably +free from miasma, but Leveson was discharging microbes from his +tongue and person generally that would have been dangerous to life +in another minute." He laughed again. "Were you coming my way?" + +"Yes, I was," replied Walden, as they began to walk along the road +together--"I am going away on a visit, and I meant to call and say +good-bye to you." + +Julian glanced at him curiously. + +"Going away? For long?" + +"Oh no! Only for two or three days. I want to see my Bishop." + +"On a point of conscience?" + +John smiled, but coloured a little too. + +"No--not exactly! We are very old friends, Brent and I--but we have +not met for seven years,--not since my church was consecrated. It +will be pleasant to us to have a chat about old times---" + +"And new times--don't leave THEM out," said Julian--"They are quite +as interesting. The present is as pleasing as the past, don't you +think so?" + +Walden hesitated. A touch of sorrow and lingering regret clouded his +eyes. + +"No--I cannot say that I do!" he answered, at last, with a sigh--"In +the past I was young, with all the world before me,--in the present +I am old, with all the world behind me!" + +"Does it matter?" and Adderley lifted his eyelids with a languid +expression--"For instance let us suppose that in the past you have +lost something and that in the present you gain something, does it +not equalise the position?" + +"The gain is very little in my case!"--said John, yet even as he +spoke he felt a pang of shame at his own thanklessness. Had he not +secured a peaceful home, a round of work that he loved, and +happiness far beyond his merits, and had not God blessed him with +health and a quiet mind? Yes--till quite lately he had had a quiet +mind--but now--- + +"You perhaps do not realise how much the gain is, or how far it +extends,"--pursued Adderley, thoughtfully--"Youth and age appear to +me to have perfectly equal delights and drawbacks. Take me, for +example,--I am young, but I am in haste to be older, and when I am +old I am sure I shall never want to be young again. It is too +unsettled a condition!" + +Walden smiled, but made no answer. They walked on in comparative +silence till they reached Adderley's cottage--a humble but +charmingly artistic tenement, with a thatched roof and a small +garden in front which was little more than a tangle of roses. + +"I am taking this house--this mansion--on," said Julian, pausing at +the gate--"I shall stop here all winter. The surroundings suit me. +Inspiration visits me in the flowering of the honeysuckle, and +encircles me in the whispering of the wind among the roses. When the +leaves drop and the roses fade, I shall hear a different chord on +the harp of song. When the sleet and snow begin to fall, I shall +listen to the dripping of the tears of Nature with as much sympathy +as I now bask in her smiles. I have been writing verses to the name +of Maryllia--they are not finished--but they will come by degrees-- +yes!--I am sure they will come! This is how they begin,"--and +leaning on the low gate of his cottage entrance he recited softly, +with half-closed eyes: + + In the flowering-time of year + When the heavens were crystal clear, + And the skylark's singing sweet + Close against the sun did beat,-- + All the sylphs of all the streams, + All the fairies born in dreams, + All the elves with wings of flame, + Trooping forth from Cloudland came + To the wooing of Maryllia! + +Walden murmured something inarticulate, but Adderley waved him into +silence, and continued: + + Woodland sprites of ferns and trees, + Ariels of the wandering breeze, + Kelpies from the hidden caves + Coral-bordered 'neath the waves, + Sylphs, that in the rose's heart, + Laugh when leaves are blown apart,-- + All the Faun and Dryad crew + From their mystic forests flew + To the wooing of Maryllia! + +"Very fanciful!" said John, with a forced smile--"I suppose you can +go on like that interminably?" + +"I can, and I will,"--said Julian--"So long as the fit possesses me. +But not now. You are in a hurry, and you wish to say good-bye. You +imply the P.P.C. in your aspect. So be it! I shall see you on Sunday +in the pulpit as usual?" + +"Yes." + +"Badsworth Hall will probably attend your ministrations, so I am +told,"--continued Julian--"Lord Roxmouth wants to hear you preach,-- +and Sir Morton himself proposes to 'sit under' you." + +"Sorry for it!" said Walden abruptly--"He should attend his own +'cure'--Mr. Leveson." + +They laughed. + +"Of course you don't credit that story about Miss Vancourt's +marriage with Lord Roxmouth?" queried Adderley, suddenly. + +"I am slow to believe anything I hear,"--replied John--"But--is it +quite without foundation?" + +Adderley looked him straight in the eyes. + +"Quite! Very quite! Most quite! My dear Walden, you are pale! A +change, even a brief one, will do you good. Go and see your Bishop +by all means. And tell him how nearly, how very nearly you gave +prestige to the calling of a Churchman by knocking down a rascal!" + +They parted then; and by sundown Walden was in the train speeding +away from St. Rest at the rate of fifty miles an hour to one of the +great manufacturing cities where human beings swarm together more +thickly than bees in a hive, and overcrowd and jostle each other's +lives out in the desperate struggle for mere bread. Bainton and +Nebbie were left sole masters of the rectory and its garden, and +both man and dog were depressed in spirits, and more or less +restless and discontented. + +"'Tain't what it used to be by no manner o' means,"--muttered +Bainton, looking with a dejected air round the orchard, where the +wall fruit was hanging in green clusters of promise--"Passon don't +seem to care, an' when HE don't care then I don't care! Why, it +seems onny t'other day 'twas May morning, an' he was carryin' Ipsie +Frost on his shoulder, an' leadin' all the children wi' the Maypole +into the big meadow, an' all was as right as right could be,--yet +'ere we're onny just in August an' everything's topsy-turvy like. +Lord, Lord!--'ow trifles do make up a sum o' life to be sure, as the +copybooks sez--for arter all, what's 'appened? Naught in any wise +partikler. Miss Vancourt 'as come 'ome to her own,--an' she's 'ad a +few friends from Lunnon stayin' with 'er. That's simple enough, as +simple as plantains growin' in a lawn. Then Miss Vancourt's 'usband +that is to be, comes down an' stays with old Blusterdash Pippitt at +the 'All, in order to be near 'is sweet'art. There ain't nothin' out +of the common in that. It's all as plain as piecrust. An' Passon +ain't done nothin' either but jest his dooty as he allus doos it,-- +he ain't been up to the Manor more'n once,--he ain't been at the +'All,--an' Miss Vancourt she ain't been 'ere neither since the day +he broke his best lilac for her. So it can't be she what's done +mischief--nor him, nor any on 'em. So I sez to myself, what is it? +What's come over the old place? What's come over Passon? Neither +place nor man's the same somehow, yet blest if I know where the +change comes in. It's like one of the ways o' the Lord, past findin' +out!" + +He might have thought there was something still more to wonder at if +he could have looked into Josey Letterbarrow's cottage that evening +and seen Maryllia there, sitting on a low stool at the old man's +knee and patting his wrinkled hand tenderly, while she talked to him +in a soft undertone and he listened with grave intentness and +sagacity, though, also with something of sorrow. + +"An' so ye think it's the onny way, my beauty!" he queried, +anxiously--"There ain't no other corner round it?" + +"I'm afraid not, dear Josey!" she answered, with a sigh--"And I'm +telling you all about it, because you knew my father, and because +you saw me when I was a little child. You would not like me to marry +a man whom I hate,--a man who is bad right through, and who only +wants my aunt's money, which he would get if I consented to be his +wife. I am sure, Josey, you don't think money is the best thing in +life, do you?--I know you agree with me that love is better?" + +Josey looked down upon her where she sat with an almost devout +tenderness. + +"Love's the onny thing in the world worth 'avin' an' keeping my +beauty!" he said--"An' love's wot you desarves, an' wot you're sure +to get. I wouldn't see Squire's gel married for money, no, not if it +was a reglar gold mine!--I'd rather see 'er in 'er daisy grave fust! +An' I don't want to see 'er with a lord nor a duke,--I'll be content +to see 'er with a good man if the Lord will grant me that 'fore I +die! An' you do as you feels to be right, an' all things 'ull work +together for good to them as loves the Lord! That's Passon's +teachin' an' rare good teachin' it be!" + +At this Maryllia rose rather hurriedly and put on her hat, tying its +chiffon strings slowly under her chin. + +"Good-bye, Josey dear!"--she said--"It won't be for very long. But +you must keep my secret--you mustn't say a word, not even"--here she +paused and laughed a little forcedly--"not even to the Parson you're +so fond of!" + +Josey looked at her sideways, with a quaintly meditative expression. + +"Passon be gone away hisself,"--he said, a little smile creeping +among the kindly wrinkles of his brown weather-beaten face--"He +baint comin' back till Sunday." + +"Gone away?" Maryllia was quite unconscious of the vibration of pain +in her voice as she asked the question, as she was equally of the +startled sorrow in her pretty eyes. + +"Ah, my beauty, gone away,"--repeated Josey, with a curious sort of +placid satisfaction--"Passon, he be lookin' downhearted like, an' a +change o' scene 'ull do 'im good mebbe, an' bring 'im back all the +better for it. He came an' said good-bye to me this marnin'." + +Maryllia stood for a moment irresolute. Why had he gone away? Her +brows met in a little puckered line of puzzled wonder. + +"He be gone to see the Bishop,"--pursued Josey, watching her +tenderly with his old dim eyes,--it was like reading a love-story to +see the faint colour flushing those soft round cheeks of hers, and +the tremulous quiver of that sweet sensitive mouth--"Church +business, likely. But never you mind, my beauty!--he'll be 'ere to +preach, please the Lord, on Sunday." + +"Oh, I don't mind," said Maryllia, quickly recovering herself--"Only +I shan't be here, you see--and--and I had intended to explain +something to him--however, it doesn't matter! I can write all I +wanted to say. Good-bye, Josey! Give my love to Ipsie!" + +"Good-bye, my beauty!" returned Josey, with emphatic earnestness-- +"An' God bless ye an' make all the rough places smooth for ye! +You'll find us all 'ere, lovin' an' true, whenever ye comes, +mornin', noon or night--the village ain't the world, but you've got +round it, my dearie--you've got round it!" + +And in the deep midnight when the church chimes rang the hour, and +the moon poured a pearly shower of luminance over the hushed +woodland and silently winding river, Josey lay broad awake, +resignedly conscious of his extreme age, and thinking soberly of the +beginning and end of life,--the dawn and fruition of love,--the +wonderful, beautiful, complex labyrinth of experience through which +every human soul is guided from one mystic turn to another of +mingled joy and sorrow by that supreme Wisdom, Whom, though we +cannot see, we trust,--and feeling the near close of his own long +life-journey, he folded his withered hands and prayed aloud: + +"For all Thy childern, O Lord God, that 'ave gone by the last +milestone on the road an' are growin' footsore an' weary, let there +be Thy peace which passeth all understandin'!--but for Squire's gel +with the little lonely heart of 'er beatin' like the wings of a bird +that wants a nest, let there be Love!" + + + + +XXVI + + +Next day at Badsworth Hall, a stately luncheon was in progress. +Luncheon, or indeed any meal, partaken of under the rolling and +excitable eye of Sir Morton Pippitt, was always a function fraught +with considerable embarrassment to any guests who might happen to be +present, being frequently assisted by the Shakespearean stage +direction 'alarums and excursions.' With Sir Morton at the head of +the table, and the acid personality of his daughter Miss Tabitha at +the foot, there was very little chance of more than merely +monosyllabic conversation, while any idea of merriment, geniality or +social interchange of thought, withered in conception and never came +to birth. The attention of both host and hostess was chiefly +concentrated on the actual or possible delinquencies of the servants +in attendance--and what with Sir Morton's fierce nods and becks to +unhappy footmen, and Miss Tabitha's freezing menace of brow bent +warningly against the butler, those who, as visitors, were outside +these privacies of the domestic circle, never felt altogether at +their ease. But the fact that other people were made uncomfortable +by his chronic irascibility moved Sir Morton not at all, so long as +he personally could enjoy himself in his own fashion, which was to +browbeat, bully and swear at every hapless household retainer that +came across his path in the course of the day. He was more than +usually choleric and fussy in the 'distinguished' presence of Lord +Roxmouth, for though that individual had gone the social pace very +thoroughly, and was, to put it mildly, a black sheep of modern +decadence, hopelessly past all regeneration, he still presented the +exterior appearances of a gentleman, and was careful to maintain +that imperturbable composure of mien, dignity of bearing, and +unruffled temper which indicate breeding, though they are far from +being evidences of sincerity. And thus it very naturally happened +that in the companionship of the future Duke of Ormistoune, Sir +Morton did not shine. His native vulgarity came out side by side +with his childish pomposity, and Roxmouth, after studying his +habits, customs and manners for two or three days, began to feel +intensely bored and out of humour. + +"Upon my word,"--he said, to his fidus Achates, Marius Longford,--"I +am enduring a great deal for the sake of the Vancourt millions! To +follow an erratic girl like Maryllia from one Continental resort to +another was bad enough,-but to stay here in tame, highly respectable +country dullness is a thousand times worse! Why on earth, my good +fellow, could you not have found a more educated creature to play +host to me than this terrible old Bone-Boiler?" + +Longford pressed the tips of his fingers together with a deprecatory +gesture. + +"There was really no one else who could receive you,"--he answered, +almost apologetically--"I thought I had managed the affair rather +well. You will remember that directly Miss Vancourt had announced to +her aunt her intention to return to her own home, you sent me down +here to investigate the place and its surroundings, and see what I +could do. Sir Morton Pippitt seemed to be the only person, from the +general bent of his character, to suit your aims, and his house was, +(before he had it) of very excellent historic renown. I felt sure +you would be able to use him. There is no other large place in the +neighbourhood except Miss Vancourt's own Manor, and Ittlethwaite +Park--I doubt whether you could have employed the Ittlethwaites to +much purpose---" + +"Spare me the suggestion!" yawned Roxmouth--"I should not have +tried!" + +"Well, there is no one else of suitable position, or indeed of +sufficient wealth to entertain you,"--continued Longford--"Unless +you had wished me to fraternise with the brewer, Mordaunt Appleby? +HE certainly might have been useful! oj He would sell his soul to a +title!" + +Roxmouth gave an exclamation of mingled contempt and impatience, and +dropped the conversation. But he was intensely weary of Sir Morton's +'fine jovial personality'--he hated his red face, his white hair, +his stout body, his servile obsequiousness to rank, and all his +'darling old man' ways. Darling old man he might be, but he was +unquestionably a dull old man as well. So much so, indeed, that when +at luncheon on the day now named, his lordship Roxmouth, as Mr. +Netlips would have styled him, was in a somewhat petulant mood, +being tired of the constant scolding of the servants that went on +around him, and being likewise moved to a sort of loathing repulsion +at the contemplation of Miss Tabitha's waxy-clean face lined with +wrinkles, and bordered by sternly smooth grey hair. He was lazily +wondering to himself whether she had ever been young--whether the +same waxy face, wrinkles and grey hair had not adorned her in her +very cradle,--when the appearance of an evidently highly nervous boy +in buttons, carrying a letter towards his host on a silver salver, +distracted his attention. + +"What's this--what's this?" spluttered Sir Morton, hastily dropping +a fork full of peas which he had been in the act of conveying to his +mouth--"What are you bringing notes in here for, eh? Haven't I told +you I won't have my meals disturbed by messages and parcels? What +d'ye mean by it? Take it away--take it away!--No!--here!--stop a +minute, stop a minute! Yes--yes!--I see!--marked 'immediate,' and +from Abbot's Manor. My dear lord!"--And here he raised his voice to +a rich warble-"I believe this will concern you more than me--ha-ha- +ha!--yes, yes! we know a thing or two! 'When a woman will, she will, +you may depend on't!'--never mind the other line!--never mind, never +mind!" And he broke open the seal of the missive presented to him, +and adjusted his gold-rimmed spectacles to read its contents. "Eh-- +what's this--what's this? God bless my soul!" And his round eyes +protruded in astonishment and dismay--"Look here!--I say--really! +You'd better read this, my lord! God bless my soul! She's bolted!" + +Roxmouth started violently. Mr. Marius Longford looked up sharply-- +and Miss Tabitha laid down her knife and fork with the regular old +maid's triumphant air of 'I told you so!' + +"God bless my soul!" said Sir Morton again--"Was ever such a bit of +damned cheek!--beg pardon, my lord!---" + +"Don't apologise!" said Roxmouth, with courteous languor, "At least, +not to ME! To Miss Tabitha!" and he waved his hand expressively. +"May I see the letter?" + +"Certainly--certainly!" and Sir Morton in a great fluster passed it +along. It was a very brief note and ran as follows: + +"DEAR SIR MORTON,--I quite forgot to tell you, when you and your +friends dined with me the other day, that I am leaving home +immediately and shall be away for the rest of the summer. Lady +Wicketts and Miss Fosby are staying on at the Manor for a fortnight +or three weeks, as the country air does them so much good. It will +be very kind if you and Lord Roxmouth will call and see them as +often as you can,--they are such dear kind people!--and I am sure +Miss Tabitha will be glad to have them near her as she already likes +them so much. Anything you can do to give them pleasure while they +are here, will be esteemed as a personal favour to myself. I am +sorry not to have the time to call and say good-bye--but I am sure +you will excuse ceremony. I shall have left before you receive this +note.--With kind regards, sincerely yours," + "MARYLLIA VANCOURT." + +Roxmouth read this letter, first to himself, and then aloud to all +at table. For a moment there was a silence of absolute stupefaction. + +"Then she's gone!" at last said Miss Tabitha, placidly nodding, +while the suspicion of a malign smile crept round the hard corners +of her mouth. + +"Evidently!" And Roxmouth crumbled the bread beside his plate into +fine shreds with a nervous, not to say vicious clench of his hand. + +He was inwardly furious. There is nothing so irritating to a man of +his type as to be made ridiculous. Maryllia had done this. In the +most trifling, casual, and ordinary way she had compelled him to +look like a fool. All his carefully laid plans were completely +upset, and he fancied that even Longford, his tool, to whom he had +freely confided his wishes and intentions, was secretly laughing at +him. To have plotted and contrived a stay at Badsworth Hall with the +blusterous Pippitt in order to have the opportunity of crossing +Maryllia's path at every turn, and compromising her name with his in +her own house and county, and then to find himself 'left,' with the +civil suggestion that he should 'call and see' the antique Sisters +Gemini, Lady Wicketts and Miss Fosby, was somewhat too much for his +patience. The blow was totally unexpected,--the open slight to his +amour propre sudden and keen. His very blood tingled under the lash +of Maryllia's disdain--she had carried a point against him, and he +almost imagined he could hear the distant echo of her light mocking +laughter. His brow reddened,--he gnawed his under-lip angrily, and +sat mute, aware that he had been tricked and foiled. + +Longford watched him narrowly and with something of dismay,--for if +this lordly patron, who, by his position alone, was able to push +things on in certain quarters of the press, were to suddenly turn +crusty and unreasonable, where would his, Longford's, 'great +literary light' be? Quenched utterly like a rush-light in a gale! +Sir Morton Pippitt during the uncomfortable pause of silence had +grown purple with suppressed excitement. He knew perfectly well,-- +because he had consented to it,--that his house had only been 'used' +for Roxmouth's purposes, and that he, personally, was of no more +consideration to a man like the future Duke of Ormistoune than a +landlord for the time being, whose little reckoning for +entertainment would in due course be settled in some polite and +ceremonious fashion. And he realised dolefully that his +'distinguished' guest might, and probably would, soon take his +departure from Badsworth Hall, that abode no longer being of any +service to him. This meant annihilation to many of Sir Morton's +fondest hopes. He had set his heart on appearing at sundry garden- +parties in the neighbourhood during the summer with Lord Roxmouth +under his portly wing--he had meant to hurl Lord Roxmouth here, Lord +Roxmouth there at all the less 'distinguished' people around him, so +that they should almost sink into the dust with shame because they +had not had the honour of sheltering his lordship within their +walls,--and he had expected to add considerably to his own +importance by 'helping on' the desired union between Roxmouth Castle +and the Vaneourt millions. Now this dream was over, and he could +willingly have thrown plates and dishes and anything else that came +handy at the very name of Maryllia for her 'impudence' as he called +it, in leaving them all in the lurch. + +"It will be quite easy to ascertain where she has gone,"--said +Marius Longford presently, in soft conciliatory accents--"Lady +Wicketts will probably know, and Miss Fosby---" + +"Damn Lady Wicketts and Miss Fosby!" snapped out Sir Morton, this +time without any apology--"A couple of female donkeys! 'Kind of me +to call upon them!' God bless my soul! I should think it WOULD be +kind! Nobody but a fool would go near them---" + +"They are very pleasant, good women,"--said Miss Tabitha with severe +serenity--"Personally, I much prefer them to Miss Vancourt." + +Sir Morton snorted contempt; Mr. Longford coughed discreetly. + +"Miss Vancourt has not yet ripened sufficiently to bear comparison +with Lady Wicketts,"--he said, smoothly--"or with Miss Fosby. But I +think, Miss Pippitt, there is a great deal in what you say!" Miss +Tabitha bowed, and smiled a vinegary smile. "Lady Wicketts has a +fine mind--very fine! Her husband, Sir Thomas---" + +"Oh never mind her husband!" blustered Sir Morton,-- + +"He's dead. And a good job too--for himself. Now what's to be done, +my dear lord, eh?--what's to be done?" + +Roxmouth looked up and managed to force his usual conventional +smile. + +"Nothing!" + +"Nothing? Oh come, come! That won't do! Paint heart never won fair +lady--ha-ha-ha! God bless my soul! The course of true love never did +run smooth--that's the advice of what's-his-name--Shakespeare. Ha- +ha! By the bye, what's become of that poet acquaintance of yours, +Longford? Oughtn't HE to have known something about this? Didn't you +tell him to keep a sharp look-out on Maryllia Van, eh?" + +Longford reddened slightly under his pale yellow skin. What a vulgar +way Sir Morton had of putting things, to be sure! + +"I certainly asked Mr. Adderley to let us know if there was anything +in which we could possibly participate to give pleasure and +entertainment to Miss Vancourt,"--he answered frigidly--"He seems to +have ingratiated himself with both Miss Vancourt and her young +friend Miss Bourne--I should have thought he would have been told of +their intending departure." + +"You may depend he knows all about it!" said Sir Mortou--"He's +double-faced, that's what he is! Poets always are. I hate 'em! +Regular sneaks!--always something queer about their morals--look at +Byron!--God bless my soul!--he ought to have been locked up-- +positively locked up, he-ha-ha! We'll come down on this Adderley-- +we'll take him by surprise and cross-examine him--we'll ask him why +the devil he has played a double game---" + +"Pray do not think of such a thing!"--interrupted Roxmouth, quietly- +-"I really doubt whether he knows any more than we do. Maryllia-- +Miss Vancourt--is not of a character to confide her movements, even +to a friend,--she has always been reticent---" He paused. + +"And sly!"--said Miss Tabitha, finishing his sentence for him, "Very +sly! The first time I ever saw Miss Vancourt I knew she was +deceitful! Her very look expresses it!" + +"I'm afraid,"--murmured Roxmouth,--and then hesitating a moment, he +raised his eyes with an affectation of great frankness--"I'm really +afraid you may be right, Miss Tabitha! I had hoped that I should not +have had to speak of a matter,--a very disagreeable matter which +happened the other night--but, under the circumstances, it may be as +well to mention it. You can perhaps imagine how distressing it has +been to me--distressing and painful--and indeed incredible,--to +discover the lady whom I have every right to consider almost my +promised wife, entering into a kind of amorous entanglement down +here with a clergyman!" + +Sir Morton bounced in his chair. + +"God bless my soul! A clergyman?" + +"A clergyman?" echoed Miss Tabitha, with sudden sharpness in her +tone--"What clergyman do you mean?" + +"Who should I mean!" And Roxmouth affected a somewhat sad and +forbearing demeanour--"There is only one who appears to be welcome +at the Manor-the Reverend John Walden." + +Miss Tabitha turned a paler waxen yellow-Sir Morton shot forth a +deep, dreadful and highly blasphemous oath. + +"That prig?" he roared, with a bull-like loudness and fury--"That +high-and-mighty piece of damned superior clerical wisdom? God bless +my soul! There must be some mistake---" + +"Yes surely!"--murmured Miss Tabitha, feeling the clutch of a deadly +spite and fear at her heart,--for was not Walden HER clergyman?--HER +choice of a husband?--the man she had resolved to wed sooner or +later, even if she had to wait till he was senile, and did not know +what he was doing when led to the altar? "Mr. Walden is not a man +who would be easily allured---" + +"Perhaps not,"--said Roxmouth, quietly--"But I can hardly refuse to +accept the witness of my own eyes and ears." And, attended by an +almost breathless silence on the part of his auditors, he related +with an air of patient endurance and compassionate regret, his own +account of the interview between Maryllia and Walden in the picture- +gallery, exaggerating something here, introducing a suggestive +insinuation there, suppressing the simplicity of the true facts, and +inserting falsehood wherever convenient, till he had succeeded in +placing Walden's good name at Miss Tabitha's cat-like mercy for her +to rend and pounce upon to the utmost extent of her own jaundiced +rage and jealous venom. + +Nothing could equal or surpass Sir Morton's amazement and wrath as +he listened to the narration. His eyes seemed to literally start out +of his head,--his throat swelled visibly till a fat ridge of flesh +lolled over the edge of his stiff shirt-collar, and he threw in +various observations of his own with regard to Walden, such as +'Sniveling puppy!' 'Canting rascal!' 'Elderly humbug!' 'Sneaking +upstart,' which were quite in accordance with his native good taste +and refinement of speech. And when at last his stock of expletives +became, for the time being, exhausted, and when Miss Tabitha's dumb +viciousness had, like an invisible sculptor's chisel, carved sudden +deep lines in her face as fitting accompaniments to the deepening +malice of her thoughts, they all rose from the luncheon table and +went their several ways in their several moods of disconcerted +confusion, impotence and vexation, in search of fresh means to gain +new and unexpected ends. Roxmouth, reluctantly yielding to the +earnest persuasions of Longford, walked with him into the village of +St. Rest, and made enquiries at the post-office as to whether Miss +Vancourt's sudden departure was known there, or whether any +instructions had been left as to the forwarding of her letters. But +the postmistress, Mrs. Tapple, breathing hard and curtseying +profoundly to the 'future Dook' declared she ''adn't heard nothink,' +and ''adn't 'ad no orders.' Miss Vancourt's letters and telegrams +all went up to the Manor as usual. Whereupon, still guided by the +astute Longford, Roxmouth so far obeyed Maryllia's parting +suggestion as to go and 'kindly call' upon Lady Wicketts and Miss +Fosby at the Manor itself. The beautiful old house looked the same +as usual; there were no shutters up, no blinds drawn, in any of the +windows,--nothing indicated absence on the part of the reigning +mistress of the fair domain; and even the dog Plato was comfortably +snoozing according to daily custom, on the sun-baked flag-stones in +the Tudor court. Primmins opened the door to them with his usual +well-trained and imperturbable demeanour. + +"Miss Vancourt is not at home?" began Roxmouth tentatively. + +"Miss Vancourt has left for the Continent, my lord," replied +Primmins, sedately. + +Longford exchanged a swift glance with his patron. The latter gave a +slight, weary shrug of his shoulders. + +"Miss Bourne."--began Longford then. + +"Miss Bourne and Mr. Gigg have also left," said Primmins. + +"I suppose Miss Vancourt went with them?" + +"No, sir." + +This was baffling. + +"Lady Wicketts is staying here, I believe,"--murmured Roxmouth--"Can +I--er?" + +"Her ladyship has the neuralgy and is lying down, my lord," and an +acute observer might have noticed the tremor of a wink in Primmins' +eye--"Miss Fosby is in the drawing-room." + +With a profound sigh Roxmouth glanced at Longford. That gentleman +smiled a superior smile. + +"We should like to see Miss Fosby." + +Primmins at once threw open the door more widely. + +"This way, if you please!" + +In another moment they were ushered into the presence of Miss Fosby, +who, laying aside her embroidery, rose with punctilious ceremony to +receive them. + +"Lady Wicketts is not well,"--she said, in tenderly lachrymose +accents--"Dear Lady Wicketts! She is always so good!--always +thinking of other people and doing such kind things!--she fatigues +herself, and she is so delicate--ah!--so very delicate! She is +suffering from neuralgia, I am sorry to say!" + +"Don't mention it,"--said Roxmouth, hastily--"We would not disturb +her for the world! The fact is, we called to see Miss Vancourt---" + +"Yes?" queried Miss Fosby, gently, taking up her embroidery again, +and carefully setting her needle into the petal of a rosebud she was +designing--"Dear girl! She left here yesterday." + +"Rather sudden, wasn't it?" said Longford. + +Miss Fosby looked up placidly, and smiled. She had a touch of humour +about her as well as much 'early Victorian' sentiment, and she was +just now enjoying herself. + +"I think not! Young women like change and travel. Maryllia has +always been accustomed to go abroad in August. The first time Lady +Wicketts and I ever met her, she was travelling with her aunt. Oh +no, I don't think it is at all sudden!" + +"Where has she gone?" asked Roxmouth, affecting as much ease and +lightness of manner as he could in putting the question. + +Miss Fosby smiled a little more. + +"I really don't know,"--she replied, with civil mildness--"I fancy +she has no settled plans at all. She has kindly allowed Lady +Wicketts and myself the use of the Manor for three weeks." + +"Till she returns?" suggested Longford. + +This time Miss Fosby laughed. + +"Oh no! When WE leave it, the Manor is to be shut up again for quite +a long time--probably till next summer." + +"Miss Bourne has gone with her friend, I suppose?" "No,"--and Miss +Fosby sought carefully among her embroidery silks for some special +tint of colour--"Little Cicely and Monsieur Gigue, her master, went +away together only this morning." + +"Well, I suppose Miss Vancourt's letters will he forwarded on +somewhere!"--said Eoxmouth, unguardedly. Miss Fosby's back stiffened +instantly. + +"Really, my lord, I know nothing about that,"--she said, primly-- +"Nor should I even make it my business to enquire." There was an +awkward pause after this, and though Longford skilfully changed the +subject of conversation to generalities, the rest of the interview +was fraught with considerable embarrassment. Miss Fosby was not to +be 'drawn.' She was distinctly 'old-fashioned,'--needless therefore +to add that she was absolutely loyal to her absent friend and +hostess. + +Leaving the Manor, Lord Roxmouth and his tame pussy sought for +information in other quarters with equal futility. The agent, Mr. +Stanways, 'knew nothing.' His orders were to communicate all his +business to Miss Vancourt's solicitors in London. Finally the last +hope failed them in Julian Adderley. They found that young gentleman +as much taken aback as themselves by the news of Maryllia'a +departure. He had been told nothing of it. A note from Cicely Bourne +had been brought to him that morning by one of the gardeners at the +Manor--and he showed this missive to both Roxmouth and Longford with +perfect frankness. It merely ran: "Goodbye Moon-calf! Am going away. +No time to see you for a fond farewell! Hope you will be famous +before I come back. Enclosed herewith is my music to your 'Little +Eose Tree,' GOBLIN." + +This, with the accompanying manuscript score of the song alluded to +was all the information Julian could supply,--and his own surprise +and consternation at the abrupt and unexpected termination of his +pleasant visits to the Manor, were too genuine to be doubted. + +"It is positively remote!" he said, staring vaguely at his visitors- +-"Too remote for realisation! Mr. Walden has gone away too." + +Roxmouth started. + +"Mr. Walden?" + +"Yes." And Julian looked surprised at the other's hasty tone,--"But +only to see his Bishop. He will preach here as usual on Sunday." + +"Are you sure of that?" asked Longford, sharply scanning Julian's +flabby face, green-grey eyes and ruddy locks with sudden suspicion-- +"Or is it only a blind?" + +"A blind?" And Adderley lifted his shoulders to the lobes of his +ears and spread out his hands in flat amazement,--"What do you mean, +most obscure Marius? For what purpose should a blind be used? Mr. +Walden is the last person in the world to wish to cover his +intentions, or disguise his motives. He is the sincerest man I ever +met!" + +Longford glanced at his patron for instructions. Was Adderley to be +told of the 'amorous entanglement' of Miss Vancourt? Roxmouth +frowned at him warningly, and he understood his cue. + +"Well, if you hear any news from the Manor, you can let us know,"-- +he said--"You are quite aware of the position---" + +"Quite!" murmured Julian, lazily. + +"And if you want to get on, you will hardly find a better friend +than Lord Roxmouth,"--pursued Longford, with meaning emphasis--"He +has made many a man famous!" + +"Oh, my dear Longford!-pray do not speak of these things!"-- +interrupted Roxmouth, with an air of gentlemanly humility. "Merit +always commands my interest and attention--and Mr. Adderley's talent +as a poet--naturally--!" Here he waved his hand and allowed the +sentence to finish itself. + +Julian looked at him thoughtfully. + +"Thanks! I THINK I see what you mean!"--he said slowly--"But I'm +afraid I am not a useful person. I never have been useful in my +life--neither to myself, nor to anybody else. To be useful would be +new--and in some cases, fresh,"--here he smiled dubiously--"Yes-- +very fresh!--and delightful! But I fear--I very much fear that I +shall always 'lack advancement' as Hamlet says--I can never +accommodate myself to other people's plans. You will excuse my +inabilities?" + +Roxmouth flushed angrily. He understood. So did Marius Longford-- +resolving in his own mind that whenever, IF ever, a book of poems +appeared by Julian Adderley, he would so maul and pounce upon it in +the critical reviews, that there should not be a line of it left +unmangled or alive. They parted with him, however, on apparently +excellent terms. + +Returning to Badsworth Hall they found no further news awaiting them +than they had themselves been able to obtain. Sir Morton's fussy +enquiries had brought no result--Miss Tabitha had scoured the +neighbourhood in her high dogcart, calling on the Ittlethwaites and +Mandeville Porehams, all in vain. Nobody knew anything. Nobody had +heard anything. The sudden exit of Maryllia from the scene took +everyone by surprise. And when Miss Pippitt began to hiss a +scandalous whisper concerning John Walden, and a possible intrigue +between him and the Lady of the Manor, the 'county' sat up amazed. +Here indeed was food for gossip! Here was material for 'local' +excitement! + +"Old Tabitha's jealous!--that's what it is!" said Bruce Ittlethwaite +of Ittlethwaite Park, to his maiden sisters,--"Ha-ha-ha! Old green- +and-yellow Tabitha is afraid she'll lose her pet parson! Dammit! A +pretty woman always starts this kind of nonsense. If it wasn't the +clergyman, it would be somebody else--perhaps Sir Morton himself--or +perhaps me! Ha-ha-ha! Dammit!" + +"I don't believe a word of it!" declared the eldest Miss +Ittlethwaite,--"I do not attend Mr. Walden's services myself, but I +am quite sure he is an excellent man--and a perfect gentleman. +Nothing that Tabitha Pippitt can ever say, will move me on that +point!" + +"I always had my suspicions!"--said Mrs. Mandeville Poreham, +severely, when she in her turn heard the news--"I heard that Miss +Vancourt had insisted--positively INSISTED on Mr. Walden's visiting +her nearly every day, and I trembled for him! MY girls have gone +quite crazy about Miss Vancourt ever since they met her at Sir +Morton Pippitt's garden-party, but _I_ have NEVER changed my +opinion. MY poor mother always taught me to be firm in my +convictions. And Miss Vancourt is a designing person. There's no +doubt of it. She affects the innocence of a child--but I doubt +whether I have ever met anyone QUITE so worldly and artful!" + +So the drops of petty gossip began to trickle,--very slowly at +first, and then faster and faster, as is their habitude in the +effort to wear away the sparkling adamant of a good name and +unblemished reputation. The Reverend Putwood Leveson, vengefully +brooding over the wrongs which he considered he had sustained at the +hands of Walden, as well as Julian Adderley, rode to and fro on his +bicycle from morn till dewy eye, perspiring profusely, and shedding +poisonous slanders almost as freely as he exuded melted tallow from +his mountainous flesh, aware that by so doing he was not only +ingratiating himself with the Pippitts, but also with Lord Roxmouth, +through whose influence he presently hoped to 'get a thing or two.' +Mordaunt Appleby, the Riversford brewer, and his insignificant +spouse, irritated at never having had the chance to 'receive' Lord +Roxmouth, were readily pressed into the same service and did their +part of scandal-mongering with right good-will and malignant +satisfaction. And in less than forty-eight hours' time there was no +name too bad for the absent Maryllia; she was 'mixed up' with John +Walden,--she had 'tried to entangle him'--there had been 'a scene +with him at the Manor,'--she was 'forward,' 'conceited'--and utterly +lost to any sense of propriety. Why did she not marry Lord Roxmouth? +Why, indeed! Many people could tell if they chose! Ah yes!--and with +this, there were sundry shakings of the head and shruggings of the +shoulders which implied more than whole volumes of libel. + +But while the county talked, the village listened, sagaciously +incredulous of mere rumour, quiescent in itself and perfectly +satisfied that whoever else was wrong, 'Passon Walden' in everything +he did, said, or thought, was sure to be right. Wherefore, until +they heard their 'man o' God's' version of the stories that were +being so briskly circulated, they reserved their own opinions. The +infallibility of the Supreme Pontiff was not more securely founded +in the Roman Catholic Ritual than the faith of St. Rest in the +'gospel according to John.' + + + + +XXVII + + +Meanwhile Walden himself, ignorant of all the 'local' excitement so +suddenly stirred up in his tiny kingdom, had arrived on a three +days' visit at the house, or to put it more correctly, at the +palace, of his friend Bishop Brent. It was, in strict reality a +palace, having been in the old days one of the residences of Henry +VII. Much of the building had been injured during the Cromwellian +period, and certain modern repairs to its walls had been somewhat +clumsily executed, but it still retained numerous fine old mullioned +windows, and a cloistered court of many sculptured arches still +eminently beautiful, though grey and crumbling under the touch of +the melancholy vandal, Time. The Bishop's study had formerly been +King Henry's audience chamber, and possessed a richly-wrought +ceiling of interlaced oak rafters, and projecting beams smoothly +polished at the ends and painted with royal emblems, from which +projections no doubt, in early periods, many a banner of triumph had +floated and many a knightly pennon. Bishop Brent was fond of this +room, and carefully maintained its ancient character in the style of +its furniture and general surroundings. The wide angle-nook and high +carved chimney-piece, supported by two sculptured angel-figures of +heroic size, was left unmodernised, and in winter the gaping recess +was filled with great logs blazing cheerily as in olden times, but +in summer, as now, it served as a picturesque setting for masses of +rare flowers which, growing in pots, or cut freshly and set in +crystal vases, were grouped together with the greatest taste and +artistic selection of delicate colouring, forming, as it seemed, a +kind of blossom-wreathed shrine, above which, against the carved +chimney itself, hung a wonderfully impressive picture of the Virgin +and Child. Placed below this, and slightly towarde the centre of the +room, was the Bishop's table-desk and chair, arranged so that +whenever he raised his head from his work, the serene soft eyes of +Mary, Blessed among Women, should mystically meet his own. And here +just now he sat at evening, deep in conversation with John Walden, +who with the perfect unselfishness which was an ingrained part of +his own nature, had for the time put aside or forgotten all his own +little troubles, in order to listen to the greater ones of his +friend. He had been shocked at the change wrought in seven years on +Brent's form and features. Always thin, he had now become so +attenuated as to have reached almost a point of emaciation,--his +dark eyes, sunk far back under his shelving brows, blazed with a +feverish brilliancy which gave an almost unearthly expression to his +pale drawn features, and his hand, thin, long, and delicate as a +woman's, clenched and unclenched itself nervously when he spoke, +with an involuntary force of which he was himself unconscious. + +"You have not aged much, Walden!" he said, thoughtfully regarding +his old college chum's clear and open countenance with a somewhat +sad smile--"Your eyes are the same blue eyes of the boy that linked +his arm through mine so long ago and walked with me through the +sleepy old streets of 'Alma Mater!' That time seems quite close to +me sometimes--and again sometimes far away--dismally, appallingly, +far away!" + +He sighed. Walden looked at him a little anxiously, but for the +moment said nothing. + +"You give me no response,"--continued Brent, with sudden +querulousness--"Since you arrived we have been talking nothing but +generalities and Church matters. Heavens, how sick I am of Church +matters! Yet I know you see a change in me. I am sure you do--and +you will not say it. Now you never were secretive--you never said +one thing and meant another--so speak the truth as you have always +done! I AM changed, am I not?" + +"You are,"--replied Walden, steadily--"But I cannot tell how, or in +what way. You look ill and worn out. You are overworked and +overwrought--but I think there is something else at the root of the +evil;--something that has happened during the last seven years. You +are not quite the man you were when you came to consecrate my church +at St. Rest." + +"St. Rest!" repeated the Bishop, musingly--"What a sweet name it is- +-what a still sweeter suggestion! Rest--rest!--and a saint's rest +too!--that perfect rest granted to all the martyrs for Christ!--how +safe and peaceful!--how sure and glorious! Would that such rest were +mine! But I see nothing ahead of me but storm and turmoil, and +stress of anguish and heartbreak, ending in--Nothingness!" + +Walden bent a little more forward and looked his friend full in the +eyes. + +"What is wrong, Harry?" he asked, with exceeding gentleness. + +At the old schoolboy name of bygone years, Brent caught and pressed +his hand with strong fervour. A smile lighted his eyes. + +"John, my boy, everything is wrong!" he said--"As wrong as ever my +work at college was, before you set it right. Do you think I forget! +Everything is wrong, I tell you! I am wrong,--my thoughts are +wrong,--and my conscience leaves me no peace day or night! I ought +not to be a Bishop--for I feel that the Church itself is wrong!" + +John sat quiet for a minute. Then he said-- + +"So it is in many ways. The Church is a human attempt to build +humanity up on a Divine model, and it has its human limitations. But +the Divine model endures!" + +Brent threw himself back in his chair and closed his eyes. + +"The Divine model endures--yes!" he murmured--"The Divine foundation +remains firm, but the human building totters and is insecure to the +point of utter falling and destruction!" Here, opening his eyes, he +gazed dreamily at the pictured face of the Madonna above him. +"Walden, it is useless to contend with facts, and the facts are, +that the masses of mankind are as unregenerate at this day as ever +they were before Christ came into the world! The Church is powerless +to stem the swelling tide of human crime and misery. The Church in +these days has become merely a harbour of refuge for hypocrites who +think to win conventional repute with their neighbours, by affecting +to believe in a religion not one of whose tenets they obey! +Blasphemy, rank blasphemy, Walden! It is bad enough in all +conscience to cheat one's neighbour, but an open attempt to cheat +the Creator of the Universe is the blackest crime of all, though it +be unnamed in the criminal calendar!" + +He uttered these words with intense passion, rising from his seat, +and walking up and down the room as he spoke. Walden watched his +restless passing to and fro, with a wistful look in his honest eyes. +Presently he said, smiling a little-- + +"You are my Bishop--and I should not presume to differ from you, +Brent! YOU must instruct ME,--not I you! Yet if I may speak from my +own experience---" + +"You may and you shall!"--replied Brent, swiftly--"But think for a +moment, before you speak, of what that experience has been! One +great grief has clouded your life--the loss of your sister. After +that, what has been your lot? A handful of simple souls set under +your charge, in the loveliest of little villages,--souls that love +you, trust you and obey you. Compared to this, take MY daily life! +An over-populated diocese--misery and starvation on all sides,--men +working for mere pittances,--women prostituting themselves to obtain +food--children starving--girls ruined in their teens--and over it +all, my wretched self, a leading representative of the Church which +can do nothing to remedy these evils! And worse than all, a Church +in which some of the clergy themselves who come under my rule and +dominance are more dishonourable and dissolute than many of the so- +called 'reprobates' of society whom they are elected to admonish! I +tell you, Walden, I have some men under my jurisdiction whom I +should like to see soundly flogged!--only I am powerless to order +the castigation--and some others who ought to be serving seven years +in penal servitude instead of preaching virtue to people a thousand +times more virtuous than themselves!" + +"I quite believe that!" said Walden, smiling--"I know one of them!" + +The Bishop glanced at him, and laughed. + +"You mean Putwood Leveson?" he said--"He seems a mischievous fool-- +but I don't suppose there is any real harm in him, is there?" + +"Real harm?"--and John flared up in a blaze of wrath--"He is the +most pernicious scoundrel that ever masqueraded in the guise of a +Christian!" + +The Bishop paused in his walk up and down, and clasping his hands +behind his back, an old habit of his, looked quizzically at his +friend. A smile, kindly and almost boyish, lightened the grey pallor +of his worn face. + +"Why, John!" he said--"you are actually in a temper! Your mental +attitude is evidently that of squared fists and 'Come on!' What has +roused the slumbering lion, eh?" + +"It doesn't need a lion to spring at Leveson,"--said Walden, +contemptuously--"A sheep would do it! The tamest cur that ever +crawled would have spirit enough to make a dash for a creature so +unutterably mean and false and petty! I may as well admit to you at +once that I myself nearly struck him!" + +"You did?" And Bishop Brent's grave dark eyes flashed with a sudden +suspicion of laughter. + +"I did. I know it was not Churchman-like,--I know it was a case of +'kicking against the pricks.' But Leveson's 'pricks' are too much +like hog's bristles for me to endure with patience!" + +The Bishop assumed a serious demeanour. + +"Come, come, let me hear this out!" he said--"Do you mean to tell me +that you--YOU, John--actually struck a brother minister?" + +"No--I do not mean to tell you anything of the kind, my Lord +Bishop!" answered Walden, beginning to laugh. "I say that I 'nearly' +struck him,--not quite! Someone else came on the scene at the +critical moment, and did for me what I should certainly have done +for myself had I been left to it. I cannot say I am sorry for the +impulse!" + +"It sounds like a tavern brawl,"--said the Bishop, shaking his head +dubiously--"or a street fight. So unlike you, Walden! What was it +all about?" + +"The fellow was slandering a woman,"--replied Walden, hotly-- +"Poisoning her name with his foul tongue, and polluting it by his +mere utterance--contemptible brute! I should like to have +horsewhipped him---" + +"Stop, stop!" interrupted the Bishop, stretching out his thin long +white hand, on which one single amethyst set in a plain gold ring, +shone with a pale violet fire--"I am not sure that I quite follow +you, John! What woman is this?" + +Despite himself, a rush of colour sprang to Walden's brows. But he +answered quite quietly. + +"Miss Vancourt,--of Abbot's Manor." + +"Miss Vancourt!" Bishop Brent looked, as he felt, utterly +bewildered. "Miss Vancourt! My dear Walden, you surprise me! Did I +not write to you--do you not know---" + +"Oh, I know all that is reported of her,"--said John, quickly--"And +I remember what you wrote. But it's a mistake, Brent! In fact, if +you will exonerate me for speaking bluntly, it's a lie! There never +was a gentler, sweeter woman than Maryllia Vancourt,--and perhaps +there never was one more basely or more systematically calumniated!" + +The Bishop took a turn up to the farther end of the room. Then he +came back and confronted Walden with an authoritative yet kindly +air. + +"Look me straight in the face, John!" + +John obeyed. There was a silence, while Brent scanned slowly and +with appreciative affection the fine intellectual features, brave +eyes, and firm, yet tender mouth of the man whom he had, since the +days of their youth together, held dearest in his esteem among all +other men he had ever known, while Walden, in his turn, bore the sad +and searching gaze without flinching. Then the Bishop laid one hand +gently on his shoulder. + +"So it has come, John!" he said. + +Then and then only the brave eyes fell,--then and then only the firm +mouth trembled. But Walden was not the man to shirk any pain or +confusion to himself in matters of conscience. + +"I suppose it has!" he answered, simply. + +The Bishop sat down, and, seemingly out of long habit, raised his +eyes to the blandly smiling Virgin and Child above him. + +"I am sorry!"--he murmured--"John, my dear old fellow, I am very +sorry---" + +"Why should you be sorry?" broke out Walden, impetuously, "There is +nothing to be sorry for, except that I am a fool! But I knew THAT +long ago, even if you did not!"--and he forced a smile--"Don't be +sorry for me, Brent!--I'm not in the least sorry for myself. Indeed, +if I tell you the whole truth, I believe I rather like my own folly. +It does nobody any harm! And after all it is not absolutely a +world's wonder that a decaying tree should, even in its decaying +process, be aware of the touch of spring. It should not make the +tree unhappy!" + +The Bishop raised his eyes. They were full of a deep melancholy. + +"We are not trees--we are men!" he said--"And as men, God has made +us all aware of the love of woman,--the irresistible passion that at +one time or another makes havoc or glory of our lives! It is the +direst temptation on earth. Worst of all and bitterest it is when +love comes too late,--too late, John!--I say in your case, it comes +too late!" + +John sighed and smiled. + +"Love--if it has come to me at all--is never too late,"--he said +with quiet patience,--"My dear Brent, don't you understand? This +little girl--this child--for she is nothing more than that to a man +of my years--has slipped into my life by chance, as it were, like a +stray sunbeam--no more! I feel her brightness--her warmth--her +vitality--and my soul is conscious of an animation and gladness +whenever she is near, of which she is the sole cause. But that is +all. Her pretty ways--her utter loneliness,--are the facts of her +existence which touch me to pity, and I would see her cared for and +protected,--but I know myself to be too old and too unworthy to so +care for and protect her. I want her to be happy, but I am fully +conscious that I can never make her so. Would you call this kind of +chill sentiment 'love'?" + +Brent regarded him steadfastly. + +"Yes, John! I think I should!--yes, I certainly should call 'this +chill sentiment' love! And tell me--have you never got out of your +depth in the water of this 'chill sentiment,' or found yourself +battling for dear life against an outbreak of volcanic fire?" + +Walden was silent. + +"I never thought,"--continued the Bishop, rather sorrowfully,--"when +I wrote to you about the return of Robert Vancourt's daughter to her +childhood's home, that she would in any serious way interfere with +the peace of your life, John! I told you just what I had heard--no +more. I have never seen the girl. I only know what people say of +her. And that is not altogether pleasing." + +"Do you believe what people say?" interrupted Walden, suddenly,--"Is +it not true that when a woman is pretty, intelligent, clean-souled +and pure-minded, and as unlike the rest of 'society' women as she +can well be, she is slandered for having the very virtues her rivals +do not possess?" + +"Quite true!"--said Brent--"and quite common. It is always the old +story--'Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not +escape calumny.' Do not imagine for a moment, John, that I am going +to run the risk of losing your friendship by repeating anything that +may have been said against the reputation or the character of Miss +Vancourt. I have always prayed that no woman might ever come between +us,"--and here a faint tinge of colour warmed the pallor of his +face--"And, so far, I fancy the prayer has been granted. And I do +not think that this--this--shall we call it glamour, John?--this +glamour, of the imagination and the senses, will overcome you in any +detrimental way. I cannot picture you as the victim of a 'society' +siren!" + +John smiled. A vision rose up before his eyes of a little figure in +sparkling white draperies--a figure that bent appealingly towards +him, while a soft childlike voice said--'I'm sorry! Will you forgive +me?' The tender lines round his mouth deepened and softened at the +mental picture. + +"She is not a society siren,"--he said, gently--"Poor little soul! +She is a mere woman, needing what woman best thrives upon--love!" + +"Well, she has been loved and sought in marriage for at least three +years by Lord Roxmouth,"--said the Bishop. + +"Has SHE been loved and sought, or her aunt's millions?" queried +Walden--"That is the point at issue. But my dear Brent, do not let +us waste time in talking over this little folly of mine--for I grant +you it is folly. I'm not sorry you have found it out, for in any +case I had meant to make a clean breast of it before we parted,"--he +hesitated--then looked up frankly--"I would rather you spoke no more +of it, Harry! I've made my confession. I admit I nearly struck +Leveson for slandering an innocent and defenseless woman,--and I +believe you'll forgive me for that. Next, I own that though I am +getting into the sere and yellow leaf, I am still conscious of a +heart,--and that I feel a regretful yearning at times for the joys I +have missed out of my life--and you'll forgive me for that too,--I +know you will! For the rest, draw a curtain over this little +weakness of mine, will you? I don't want to speak of it--I want to +fight it and conquer it." + +The Bishop stretched out a hand and caught Walden's in a close +grasp. + +"Right!"--he said--"Do that, and you will do well! It is all a +question of fighting and conquering, or--being conquered. But YOU +will never give in, John! You are not the man to yield to the wiles +of the devil. For there IS a devil!--I am sure of it!" And his dark +eyes flashed with a sudden wild light. "A cozening, crafty, lurking +devil, that sets temptation before us in such varied and pleasing +forms that it is difficult--sometimes impossible--to tell which is +right and which is wrong! Walden, we must escape from this devil--we +must escape!" + +He sprang up with an impulsive quickness which startled Walden, and +began to pace up and down the room again. + +"A mocking devil,"--he said--"a lying devil!--whispering from +morning till evening, and from evening till morning, doubts of God! +Doubts whether He, the Creator of worlds, really exists,-doubts as +to whether He, or It, is not some huge blind, deaf Force, grinding +its way on through limitless and eternal Production and Reproduction +to one end,--Annihilation! Walden, you must now hear MY confession! +These doubts are driving me mad! I cannot bear the thought of the +whirl of countless universes, immeasurable solar systems, crammed +with tortured life for which there seems to be no hope, no care, no +rescue, no future! I am unable to preach or to FEEL comfort for the +human race! The very tragedy of the Cross only brings me to one +result--that Truth is always crucified. The world prefers Falsehood. +So much so indeed that the Christian religion itself is little more +than a super-structure of lies raised above the sepulchre of a +murdered Truth. I told you in my letter I had serious thoughts of +resigning my bishopric. So I have. My spirit turns to Rome!" + +"Rome!" cried Walden--"What, YOU, Brent!--you think of going over to +Rome? What strange fantasy has seized you?" + +"Rome," said Brent, slowly, stopping in his restless walk--"is the +Mother of Creeds--the antique Muse of the world's history! Filled +with the blood of martyrs, hallowed by the memories of saints, she +is, she must always be, supreme in matters of faith--or +superstition!" And he smiled,--a wan and sorrowful smile--"Or even +idolatry, if you will! Emotionalism,--sensationalism in religion-- +these the craving soul must have, and these Rome gives! We must +believe,--mark you, Walden!--we must positively BELIEVE that the +Creator of all Universes was moved to such wrath against the +helpless human creature He had made, that he cursed that creature +forever for merely eating, like a child, fruit which had been +forbidden! And after that we must believe everything else that has +since followed in the track of the Woman, the Serpent and the Tree. +Now in the Church of England I find I cannot believe these things-- +in the Church of Rome I WILL believe, because I MUST! I will humble +myself in dust and ashes, and accept all--all. Anything is better +than Nothingness! I will be the lowest of lay brethren, and in +solitude and silence, make atonement for my unbelief. It is the only +way, Walden!--for me, it is the only way! To Her!" And he pointed up +to the picture of the Virgin and Child--"To Her, my vows! As Woman, +she will pity me--as Woman, she can be loved!" + +Walden heard this wild speech without any word or gesture of +interruption. Then, raising his eyes to the picture Brent thus +apostrophised, he said, quietly-- + +"When did you have that painted, Brent?" + +A sudden change came over the Bishop's features. He looked as though +startled by some vague terror. Then he answered, slowly: + +"Some years ago--in Florence. Why do you ask? It is a copy---" + +"Of HER likeness--yes!" said Walden, softly--"I saw that at once. +You had it done, of course! She was beautiful and good--she died +young. I know! But you have no right to turn your personal passion +and grief into a form of worship, Harry!" + +The Bishop gazed at him fixedly and solemnly. + +"You do not know,"--he murmured--"You have not seen what I have +seen! She has come to me lately--she, who died so long ago!--she has +come to me night after night, and she has told me to pray for her-- +'pray' she says--'pray that I may help to save your soul!' And I +must surely do as she bids. I must get away from this place--away +from this city of turmoil and wickedness, into some quieter comer of +the world,--some monastic retreat where I may end my days in peace,- +-I cannot fight my devils here--they are too strong for me!" + +"They will be too strong for you anywhere, if you are a coward!"-- +said Walden, impetuously. "Brent, I thought you had gotten the +victory over this old despair of yours long ago! I thought you had +made the memory of the woman you loved a noble spur to noble +actions! I never dreamed that it would be possible for you to brood +silently on your sorrow till you made it a cause of protest against +God's will! And worst and strangest of all is this frenzied idea of +yours to fly to the Church of Rome for shelter from yourself and +your secret misery, and there give yourself over to monasticism and +a silent, idolatrous worship,--not of Mary, the Mother of Christ,-- +but of the mere picture of the woman you loved! And you would pray +to THAT?--you would kneel before THAT?--you would pass long hours of +fasting and vigil, gazing at that face, till, like the 'stigmata,' +it is almost outlined in blood upon your heart? My dear Brent, is it +possible your brain is so shaken and your soul so feeble that you +must needs seek refuge in a kind of half-spiritual, half-sensuous +passion, which is absolute rank blasphemy?" + +At this the Bishop raised his head with an air of imperious +authority. + +"I cannot permit!---" he said, in unsteady accents--"You have no +right to speak to me in such a tone--it is not your place---" + +Then, suddenly, his voice broke, and throwing himself into his +chair, he dropped his head forward on the desk and covered it with +his hands in an attitude of the utmost abandonment and dejection. +The moisture rose to Walden's eyes,--he knew the great tragedy of +his friend's life--all comprised in one brief, romantic episode of +the adoring love, and sudden loss of a beautiful woman drowned by +accident in her own pleasure-boat on the very eve of her marriage +with him,--and be knew that just as deep and ardent as the man's +passion had been, so deep and ardent was his sorrow--a sorrow that +could never be consoled. And John sat silent, deeply moved in +himself, and ever and anon glancing upwards at the exquisite face of +the painted Virgin above him,--the face of the dead girl whom her +lover had thus sanctified. Presently Brent raised his head,--his +face was white and worn--his eyes were wet. + +"Forgive me, John!" he said--"I have been working hard of late, and +my nerves are unstrung. And--I cannot, I cannot forget her! And what +is more awful and terrible to me than anything is that I cannot +forgive God!" He uttered these words in an awed whisper. "I cannot! +I bear the Almighty a grudge for wrenching her life away from mine! +Of what use was it to be so cruel? Of what purpose to kill one so +young? If God is omnipotent, God could have saved her. But He let +her die! I tell you, Walden, that ever since I have been Bishop of +this diocese, I have tried to relieve sorrow and pain whenever I +have met with it--I have striven to do my duty, hoping against hope +that perhaps God would teach me--would explain the why and wherefore +of so much needless agony to His creatures--and that by discovering +reasons for the afflictions of others, I should learn to become +reconciled to my own. But no!--nothing has been made clear! I have +seen innocent women die in the tortures of the damned--while their +drunken husbands have lived to carouse over their coffins. +Children,--mere babes--are afflicted with diseases for which often +no cause can be assigned and no cure discovered--while over the +whole sweltering mass of human helplessness and ignorance, Death +stalks triumphant,--and God, though called upon for rescue with +prayers and tears, withdraws Himself in clouds of impenetrable +silence. It is all hopeless, useless, irremediable! That is why my +thoughts turn to Rome--I say, let me believe in SOMETHING, if it be +only a fairy tale! Let me hear grand music mounting to heaven, even +if human words cannot reach so high!--let me think that guardian +angels exist, even if there is nothing in space save a blind Chance +spawning life particles uselessly,--let my soul and senses feel the +touch of something higher, vaster, purer and better than what the +Church of England calls Christianity at this present day!" + +"And that 'something higher, vaster, purer and better'--would you +call it the Church of Rome?" asked Walden. "In suggestion,--in +emotion and poetic inspiration, yes!"--said Brent--"In theory and in +practice, no!" + +There was a pause. Walden sat for a few moments absorbed in anxious +thought. Then he looked up with a cheerful air. + +"Harry," he said--"Will you do me a favour? Promise that you will +postpone the idea of seceding, or as you put it, 'returning' to +Rome, for six months. Will you? At the end of that time we'll +discuss it again." + +The Bishop looked uneasy. + +"I would rather do what has to be done at once,"--he said. + +"Then I must talk to you straightly,"--continued John, bracing +himself up, and squaring his shoulders resolutely--"I must forget +that you are my Bishop, and speak just as man to man. All the facts +of the case can be summed up in one word--Selfishness! Pure +Selfishness, Harry!--and I never thought I should have had to +convict you of it!" + +Brent drew himself slowly up in his chair. + +"Selfishness!" he echoed, dreamily--"I can take anything from you, +John!--I did at college,--but--selfishness---" + +"Selfishness!" repeated John, firmly--"You have had to suffer a +grief--a great grief,--and because it was so sudden, so tragic and +overwhelming, you draw a mourning veil of your own across the very +face of God! You try to rule your diocese by the measure of your own +rod of affliction. And, finding that nothing is clear to you, +because of your own obstructive spirit, you would set up a fresh +barrier between yourself and Eternal Wisdom, by deserting your post +here, and separating yourself from all the world save the shadow of +the woman you yourself loved! Harry, my dear old friend, unless I +had heard this from your own lips, I should never have believed it +of you!" + +Brent sat heavily in his chair, sunk in a brooding melancholy. + +"'The heart knoweth its own bitterness!'"--he murmured wearily-- +"Your reproaches are just,--I know I deserve them, but they do not +rouse me. They do not stir one pulse in my soul! What have _I_ +learned of Eternal Wisdom?--what have _I_ seen? Nothing but cruelty +upon cruelty dealt out, not to the wicked, but to the innocent! And +because I protest against this, you call my spirit an obstructive +one--well!--it may be so! But, Walden, you have never loved!--you +have never felt all your life rush like a river to the sea of +passion!--not low, debasing passion, but passion born of vitality, +ardour, truth, hope, sympathy!--such emotion as most surely +palpitates through the whole body of the natural creation, else +there would be naught created. God Himself--if there be a God--must +be conscious of Love! Do we not say: 'God IS Love'?--and this too +while we suffer beneath His heavy chastisements which are truely +more like Hate! I repeat, Walden, you have never loved,--till now +perhaps--and even now you are scarcely conscious of the hidden +strength of your own feelings. But suppose--just for the sake of +argument--suppose this 'little girl' as you call her, Maryllia +Vancourt, were to die suddenly, would you not, as you express it, +'draw a mourning veil of your own across the face of God'?" + +Walden started as though suddenly wounded. If Maryllia were to die!' +He shuddered as the mere thought passed across his brain. 'If +Maryllia were to die!' Why then--then the world would be a blank-- +there would be no more sunshine!--no roses!--no songs of birds!-- +nothing of fairness or pleasure left in life--not for him, whatever +there might be for others. Was it possible that her existence meant +so much to him? Yes, it meant so much!--it had come to mean so much! +He felt his old friend's melancholy eyes upon him, and looking up +met their searching scrutiny with a serious and open frankness. + +"Honestly, I think I should die myself, or lose my senses!"--he +said--"And honestly, I hardly realised this,--which is just as much +selfishness on my part as any of which I hastily accused you,--till +you put it to me. I will not profess to have a stoicism beyond +mortal limits, Harry, nor should I expect such from you. But I WILL +say, that despite our human weakness, we must have courage!--we are +not men without it. And whether faith stands fast or falters, +whether God seems far off or very near, we must face and fight our +destiny--not run away from it! You want to run away,"--and he smiled +gravely--"or rather, just in the present mood of yours you think of +doing so--but I believe it is only a mood--and that you will not, +after putting your hand to the plough, turn back because of the +aridness or ungratefulness of the soil,--that would not be like you. +If one must needs perish, it is better to perish at one's post of +duty than desert over to the enemy." + +"I am not sure that Rome is an enemy;"--said the Bishop, musingly. + +To this Walden gave no reply, and the conversation fell into other +channels. But, during the whole time of his visit, John was forced +to realise, with much acute surprise and distress, that constant +brooding on grief,--and excessive spiritual emotion of an exalted +and sensuous kind, with much perplexed pondering on human evils for +which there seemed no remedy, had produced a painful impression of +life's despair and futility on Brent's mind,--an impression which it +would be difficult to eradicate, and which would only be softened +and possibly diminished by tenderly dealing with it as though it +were an illness, and gradually bringing about restoration and +recovery through the gentlest means. Though sometimes it was to be +feared that all persuasion would be useless, and that the scandalous +spectacle of an English Bishop seceding to the Church of Rome would +be exhibited with an almost theatrical effect in his friend's case. +For the ornate ritual which the Bishop maintained in his Cathedral +services was almost worthy of a Mass at St. Peter's. The old, simple +chaste English style of 'Morning Prayer' was exchanged for +'Matins,'--choristers perpetually chanted and sang,--crosses were +carried to and fro,--banners waved--processions were held--and the +'Via Crucis' was performed by a select number of the clergy and +congregation every Friday. + +"I never have this sort of thing in my church,"--said Walden, +bluntly, on one occasion--"My parishioners would not understand it." + +"Why not teach them to understand it?" asked the Bishop, dreamily. +They were standing together in the beautiful old Cathedral, now +empty save for their presence, and Brent's eyes were fixed with a +kind of sombre wistfulness on a great gold crucifix up on the altar. + +"Teach them to understand it?" echoed Walden, with a touch of sorrow +and indignation--"You are my Bishop, but if you commanded me to +teach them these 'vain repetitions' prohibited by the Divine Master, +I should disobey you!" + +The Bishop flushed red. + +"You disapprove?" + +"I disapprove of everything that tends to put England back again +into the old religious fetters which she so bravely broke and cast +aside,"--said John, warmly--"I disapprove of all that even hints at +the possibility of any part of the British Empire becoming the slave +of Rome!" + +Brent gave a weary gesture. + +"In religious matters it is wiser to be under subjection than +free,"--he said, with a sigh--"In a state of freedom we may think as +we please--and freedom of thought breeds doubt,--whereas in a state +of subjection we think as we MUST, and so we are gradually forced +into an attitude of belief. The spread of atheism among the English +is entirely due to the wild, liberty of opinion allowed tham by +their forms of faith." + +"I do not agree with you!"--declared Walden, firmly--"The spread of +atheism is due, not to freedom of opinion, nor forms of faith, but +simply to the laxity and weakness of the clergy." + +The Bishop looked at him with a smile. + +"You always speak straight out, John!" he said--"You always did! And +strange to say, I like you all the better for it. I could, if I +chose, both reprove and command you--but I will do neither. You must +take your own way, as you always have done. But there is a flavour +of Rome even in your little church of St. Rest,--your miracle +shrine,--your unknown saint in the alabaster coffin. You and your +parishioners kneel before that every Sunday." + +"True--but we do not kneel to IT,--nor do we pray through It,"-- +replied Walden--"It stays in the chancel because it was found in the +chancel. But it does not make a miracle shrine' as you say,--there +is nothing miraculous about it." + +"If it contains the body of a Saint,"--said the Bishop, slowly--"it +MUST be miraculous! If, in the far-gone centuries, the prayers and +tears of sorrowful human beings have bedewed that cold stone, some +efficacy, some tenderness, some vitality, born of these prayers and +tears, must yet remain! Walden, we preach the supernatural--do we +not believe in it?" + +"The Divine supernatural--yes!" answered Walden,--"But---" The +Bishop interrupted him by a gesture of his delicate hand. + +"There are no 'buts' in the matter, John,"--he said, quietly--"What +is supernatural is so by its own nature. The Divine is the Human, +the Human is the Divine. In all and through all things the Spirit +moves and makes its way. Our earth and ourselves are but particles +of matter, worked by the spirit or essence of creative force. This +spirit we can neither see nor touch, therefore we call it super- +natural. But it permeates all things,--the stone as completely as +the flower. It circulates through that alabaster sarcophagus in your +church, as easily as through your own living veins. Hence, as I say, +if the mortal remains of a saint are enshrined within that +reliquary, the spirit or 'soul' enveloping it MAY work 'miracles,' +for all we dare to know!" He paused, and looking kindly at Walden's +grave and somewhat troubled face, added--"Some day, when we are in +very desperate straits, John, we will am what your saint can do for +us!" + +He smiled. Walden returned the smile, but nevertheless was conscious +of a sorrowful sense of regret at what he considered his friend's +leaning toward superstitious observances and idolatrous ceremonies. +At the same time he well knew that any violent opposition on the +subject would be worse than useless in the Bishop's present mood. He +therefore contented himself with, as he mentally said, 'putting in +the thin end of the wedge'--and,--carefully steering clear of all +controversial matters,--contrived in a great measure to reassert the +old magnetic sway he had been wont to exercise over Brent's more +pliable mind when at college--so that before they parted, he had +obtained from him a solemn promise that there should be no +'secession' or even preparation for secession to Rome, till six +months had elapsed. + +"And if you would only put away that picture,"--said Walden, +earnestly, pointing towards the 'Virgin and Child'--"Or rather, if +you would have another one painted of the sweet woman you loved as +she really was in life, it would be wiser and safer for your own +peace." + +The Bishop shook his head. + +"The Virgin and Child are a symbol of all humanity,"--he said-- +"Mother and Son,--Present and Future! Woman holds the human race in +her arms--at her breast!--without her, Chaos would come again! And +for me, all Womanhood is personified in that one face!" + +He raised his eyes to the picture with an almost devout passion--and +then abruptly turned away. The conversation was not renewed again +between them, but when Walden parted from his friend, he had the +satisfaction of knowing that he left him in a brighter, more hopeful +and healthful condition, cheered, soothed and invigorated by the +exchange of that mutual confidence and close sympathy which had +linked their two lives together in boyhood, and which held them +still subtly and tenderly responsive to each other's most intimate +emotions as men. + + + + +XXVIII + + +Arriving home at his own domain late on the Saturday night, Walden +had no opportunity to learn anything of the incidents which had +occurred during his brief absence. Letters were waiting for him, but +he opened none, and shut himself up in his study at once to prepare +his next day's sermon. He wrote on far into the night, long after +all the servants of his household had retired to rest, and overslept +himself the next morning in consequence, therefore his preparation +for the eleven o'clock service were necessarily somewhat hurried, +and he had not time to say more than a cheery 'Good-morning' even to +Bainton, whom he passed on his way into the church, or to Adam +Frost, though he fancied that both, men looked at him somewhat +curiously, as with an air of mingled doubt and enquiry. Once within +the sacred building he was conscious of an exceptionally crowded +congregation. None that he could see were missing from their usual +places. Maryllia certainly was not there,--but as she was admittedly +not a church-goer, he did not expect her to be present. Badsworth +Hall was entirely unrepresented, much to his relief; neither Sir +Morton Pippitt nor Lord Roxmouth, nor Mr. Marius Longford were +anywhere visible. Old Josey Letherbarrow sat in his usual corner,-- +everything was precisely the same as it was wont to be--and yet a +sense of vague trouble oppressed him,--he saw, or thought he saw, an +expression on some of the faces of his parishioners which was new to +him, and he felt instinctively that some disturbing element had +found its way into the peace of the village, though what the trouble +could be, he was at a loss to imagine. He chose as his text: 'What +went ye out for to see? A reed shaken with the wind?' and preached +thereon with wonderful force, simplicity, eloquence and fervour-- +though all the time he spoke he wondered why his people stared at +him so persistently, and why so many round eyes in so many round +faces appeared to express such a lively, not to say questioning +curiosity. + +After service, however, the whole mystery was cleared up. Bainton, +in his Sunday best, with hat in hand, presented himself at the +garden gate on his master's return from the church to the rectory, +and after a word or two was admitted into the study. Bainton, honest +as the daylight, and sturdy in his principles as an oak in its +fibres, had determined to have 'no humbuggin' wi' Passon.' And in a +few words, spoken with a great deal of feeling and rough eloquence, +he had told all,--how Miss Vancourt had gone away 'suddint-like' +from the Manor,--and how it was said and reported all through the +county and neighbourhood that she had gone because her engaged +husband, Lord Roxmouth, had caught her 'makin' love' to a parson, +that parson being no other than St. Rest's own beloved 'man o' God,' +John Walden. And that Lord Roxmouth had at once gone after her, and +that neither of the twain 'weren't never comin' back no more.' So +said Bainton, twirling his cap round, and fixing his eyes +sympathetically on his master's face,--eyes as faithful as those of +the dog Nebbie, who clambered at his master's knee, equally gazing +up at him with a fondness exceeding all speech. + +John Walden sat, white and rigid, in his chair and heard the tale +out to its end. + +"Is that all?" he asked, when Bainton had concluded. + +"That's all, an' ain't it enough, Passon?" queried Bainton in +somewhat dismal accents. "Not that I takes in 'arf wot I hears, but +from the fust I sez you should know every bit on it, an' if no one +else 'ad the 'art or the pluck to tell ye straight out, I'd tell ye +myself. For that old Miss Tabitha's got a tongue as long as a +tailor's yard-measure wot allus measures a bit oif to 'is own good, +an' Sir Morton Pippitt he do nothin' but run wild-like all over the +place a-talkin' of it everywhere, an' old Putty Leveson, he's up at +the 'All, day in, an' day out, tellin' 'ow you was goin' to hit 'im +in the eye--hor-hor-hor!--an' why didn't ye do it, Passon?--'twould +a' been a real Gospel mercy!--an' 'ow 'twas all about Miss Vancourt, +till Mr. Hadderley 'e come up an throwed 'im over in the road on 'is +back which makes me think all the better o' that young man, +'owsomever, I never took to 'im afore. But though he's all skin an' +bone an' long 'air as red as a biled carrot, he's got a fist of 'is +own, that's pretty plain, an' if he knocked down old Putty Leveson +it shows 'e's got some sense in 'im as well as sperrit. For it's all +over the place that there's trouble about Miss Vancourt, an' you may +take my wurrd for it, Passon, they don't leave the poor little leddy +alone, nor you neither, an' never takes into their minds as 'ow +you're old enough to be 'er father. That Miss Tabitha don't spare no +wurrds agin 'er--an' as ye know, Passon, she's a leddy wot's like +curdled cream all gone wrong in a thunderstorm. Anyways, I thought +it best to tell ye straight out an' no lyin' nor trickin'--an' if +I've stepped over my dooty, I 'umbly axes pardin, but I means well, +Passon,--I means well,--I do reely now!" + +Walden looked up,--his eyes were glittering--his lips were pate and +dry. + +"I know-I know!"--he said, speaking with an effort--"You're an +honest fellow, Bainton!--and--and--I thank you! Tou not only mean +well--you have done well. But it's a lie, Bainton!--it's all a +wicked, damnable lie!" + +He sprang to his feet as he said this, the wrath in his eyes +flashing a steel-like lightning. + +"It's a lie!" he repeated--"Do you understand? A cruel, abominable +lie!" + +Bainton twirled his cap sympathetically. + +"So it be, Passon,"--he murmured--"So it be--I know'd that all +along! It's a lie set goin' by that fine gentleman rascal, Lord +Roxmouth, wot can't get Miss Maryllia and 'er aunt's money nohow. +Lor' bless ye, I sees that plain enough! But take it 'ow we will, a +lie's a nasty sort o' burr to stick to a good name, 'speshully a +name like yours, Passon,--an' when it comes to that I feel that +moithered an' worrited-like not knowin' 'ow to pick the burr off +again. An' Lord Roxmouth he be gone away or mebbe you could a' had +it out wi' him---" + +"That will do, Bainton!"--said Walden, interrupting him by a +gesture--"Say no more about it, please! I'm glad you've spoken,--I'm +glad I know! But,--let it rest there! Never allude to it again!" + +Bainton glanced up timorously at his master's pale set face. + +"Ain't nothin' goin' to be done?" he faltered anxiously--"Nothin' to +say as 'ow it's all a lie---" + +"Nothing on my part!"--said Walden, quickly and sternly, "The best +answer to such low gossip and slander is silence. You understand?" + +His look was a command, and Bainton felt it to be such. Shuffling +about a little, he murmured something about the 'apples comin' on +fine in the orchard'--as if Walden's three days' absence had somehow +or other accelerated their ripening, and then slowly and reluctantly +retired, deeply dejected in his own mind. + +"For silence gives consent," he argued dolefully with himself-- +"That's copybook truth! Yet o' coorse 'tain't to be expected as +Passon would send for the town-crier from Riversford to ring a bell +through the village an' say as 'ow he 'adn't nothin' to dp with Miss +Vancourt nor she with 'im. Onny the worst of it is that in this +wurrld lies is allus taken for truth since the beginnin', when the +Sarpint told the first big whopper in the Garden of Eden an' took in +poor silly Eve. An' ye can't contradict a lie somehow without makin' +it look more a truth than ever,--that's the way o' the thing. An' it +do stick!--Passon himself 'ull find that out,--it do stick, it do +reely now!" + +Meantime, Walden, left alone, gave himself up to a tumult of misery +and self-torture. His sensitive nature shrank from the breath of +vulgar scandal like the fine frond of delicate foliage from the +touch of a coarse finger. He had never before been associated with +the faintest rumour of it,--his life had been too simple, too +austere, and too far removed from all the trumpery shows and petty +intrigues of society. He felt himself now in a manner debased by +having had to listen with enforced patience to Bainton's rambling +account of the gossip going on in the neighbourhood, and despite +that worthy servitor's disquisition on the subject, he could not +imagine how it had arisen, unless his quarrel with Putwood Leveson +were the cause. It was all so sudden and unlooked for! Maryllia had +gone away,--and that fact of itself was sufficient to make darkness +out of sunshine. He could not quite realise it. And not only had she +gone away, but some slanderous story had been concocted concerning +her in connection with himself, which was being bandied about on all +the tongues of the village and county. How it had arisen he could +not understand. He was, of course, unaware of the part Lord Roxmouth +had played in the matter, and in his ignorance of the true source of +the mischief, tormented his mind with endless fancies and +perplexities, all of which helped to increase his annoyance and +agitation. Pacing restlessly up and down his study, his eyes +presently fell on the little heap of letters which had accumulated +on his table during his brief absence, all as yet unopened. Turning +them over indifferently, he came suddenly on one small sealed note, +inscribed as having been left 'by hand,' addressed to him in the +bold frank writing to which he had once, not so very long ago, felt +such an inexplicable aversion when Mrs. Spruce was the recipient of +a first letter from the same source. Now he snatched the little +missive up with a strangely impulsive ardour, and being quite alone, +indulged himself in the pleasure of kissing the firm free pen- +strokes with all the passion of a boy. Then opening it, he read: + +"DEAR MR. WALDEN,--You will be surprised to find that I have gone +away from the dear home I love so well, and I daresay you will think +me very capricious. But please do not judge me hastily, or believe +everything you may hear of me from others. I am very sorry to go +away just now, but circumstances leave me no other choice. I should +like to have bidden you good-bye, as I could perhaps have explained +things to you better, but old Josey Letherbarrow tells me you have +gone to see the Bishop on business, so I leave this note myself just +to say that I hope you will think as kindly of me as you can now I +am gone. Please go into the Manor gardens as often as you like, and +let the sick and old people in the village have plenty of the +flowers and fruit. By doing this you will please me very much. My +agent, Mr. Stanways, will be quite at your service if you ever want +his assistance. Perhaps I ought just to mention that Lord Roxmouth +overheard our conversation in the picture-gallery that night of the +dinner-party. He was very rude about it. I tell you this in case you +should see him, but I do not think you will. Good-bye! Try to forget +that I smoked that cigarette!--Your sincere friend," + "MARYLLIA VANCOURT." + +As he perused these lines, Walden alternately grew hot and cold--red +and pale. All was clear to him now!-it was Lord Roxmouth who had +played the spy and eavesdropper! He recalled every little detail of +the scene in the picture-gallery and at once realised how much a +treacherous as well as jealous and vindictive man could make of it. +Maryllia's hand laid so coaxingly on his arm,--Maryllia's face so +sweetly and pleadingly upturned,--Maryllia's half-tender tremulous +voice with its 'Will you forgive me?'--and then--his own impetuous +words!--the way he had caught her hand and kissed it!--why his very +look must have betrayed him to the 'noble and honourable' detective, +part of whose distinguished role it was to listen at doors and +afterwards relate to an inquisitive and scandal-loving society all +that he heard within. By degrees he grasped the whole situation. He +realised that his name and honour lay at the mercy of this man +Roxmouth, who under the circumstances of the constant check put upon +his mercenary aims, would certainly spare no pains to injure both. +And he felt sick at heart. + +Locking Maryllia's note carefully in his desk, he stepped into his +garden and walked up and down the lawn slowly with bent head, Nebbie +trotting after him with a sympathetically disconsolate air. And +gradually it dawned upon him that Maryllia had possibly--nay very +probably--gone away for his sake,--to make things easier for him--to +remove her presence altogether from his vicinity-and so render +Roxmouth's tale-bearing, with its consequent malicious gossip, +futile, till of itself it died away and was forgotten. As this idea +crossed his mind and deepened into conviction, his eyes filled with +a sudden smarting moisture. + +"Poor child!" he said, half aloud--"Poor little lonely child!" + +Then a fresh thought came to him,--one which made the blood run more +quickly through his veins and caused his heart to pulsate with quite +a foolish joy. If--if she had indeed gone away out of a sweet +womanly wish to save him from what she imagined might cause him +embarrassment or perplexity, then--then surely she cared! Yes--she +must care for him greatly as a friend,--though only as a friend--to +be willing to sacrifice the pleasure of passing all the summer in +the old home to which she had so lately returned, merely to relieve +him of any difficulty her near society might involve. If she cared! +Was such a thing--could such a thing be possible? Tormented by many +mingled feelings of tenderness, regret and pain, John pondered his +own heart's problem anxiously, and tried to decide the best course +to pursue,--the best for her--the best for himself. He was not long +in coming to a decision, and once resolved, he was more at ease. + +When he celebrated the evening service that Sunday the garrulous +Bainton saw, much to his secret astonishment, that the effect of his +morning's communication had apparently left no trace on his master's +ordinary demeanour, except perhaps to add a little extra gravity to +his fine strong features, and accentuate the reserve of his +accustomed speech and manner. His habitual dignity was even greater +than usual,--his composed mien and clear steadfastness of eye had +lost nothing of their quelling and authoritative influence,--and so +far as his own manner and actions showed, the absence or presence of +Miss Vancourt was a matter to him of complete unconcern. His visit +to his friend the Bishop had 'done 'im a power o' good'--said his +parishioners, observing him respectfully, as, Sunday being over and +the week begun, he went about among them on his accustomed round of +duty, enquiring after the poultry and the cattle with all the zeal +expected of him. The name of Miss Vancourt seldom passed his lips,-- +when other people spoke of her, either admiringly, questioningly or +suggestively, he merely listened, offering no opinion. He denied +himself to all 'county' visitors on plea of press of work,--he never +once went to Abbot's Manor or entered the Manor grounds--and the +only persons with whom he occasionally interchanged hospitalities +were Julian Adderley and the local doctor, 'Jimmy' Eorsyth. +Withdrawing himself in this fashion into closer seclusion than ever, +his life became almost hermit-like, for except in regard to his +daily parish work, he seldom or never went beyond the precincts of +his own garden. + +Days went on, weeks went on,--and soon, too soon, summer was over. +The melancholy autumn shook down the once green leaves, all curled +up in withering death-convulsions, from the branches of the trees +now tossing in chill wind and weeping mists of rain. No news had +been received by anyone in the village concerning Maryllia. The +'Sisters Gemini,' Lady Wicketts and Miss Fosby, had departed from +Abbot's Manor when the time of their stay had concluded, and neither +of the twain had given the slightest hint to any enquirer, as to the +probable date of the return of the mistress of the domain. Sir +Morton Pippitt at last got tired of talking scandal for which there +seemed no visible or tangible foundation, and even his daughter +Tabitha began to wonder whether after all there was not some +exaggeration in the story Lord Roxmouth had given her to sow like +rank seed upon the soil of daily circumstance? She never saw Walden +by any chance,--on one occasion she ventured to call, but he was +'out' as usual. Neither could she persuade Julian Adderley to visit +at Badsworth Hall. A veil of obscurity and silence was gradually but +surely drawn between St. Rest and the outlying neighbourhood so far +as its presiding ruler John Walden was concerned, while within the +village his reticence and reserve were so strongly marked that even +the most privileged person in the place, Josey Letherbarrow, awed at +his calm, cold, almost stern aspect, hesitated to speak to him +except on the most ordinary matters, for fear of incurring his +displeasure. + +Meanwhile the village sorely missed the bright face and sweet ways +of 'th' owld Squire's gel'--and many of the inhabitants tried to get +news of her through Mrs. Spruce, but all in vain. That good lady, +generally so talkative, was for once in her life more than +discreetly dumb. All that she would say was that she "didn't know +nothink. Miss Maryllia 'ad gone abroad an' all 'er letters was sent +to London solicitors. Any other address? No--no other address. The +servants was to be kep' on--no one wasn't goin' to lose their places +if they behaved theirselves, which please the Lord, they will do!"-- +she concluded, with much fervour. Bennett, the groom, was entrusted +with the care of the mares Cleo and Daffodil, and might be seen +exercising them every day on the open moors beyond the village, +accompanied by the big dog Plato,--and so far as the general +management of affairs was concerned, that was ably undertaken by the +agent Stanways, who though civil and obliging to all the tenantry, +had no news whatever to give respecting the absence or the probable +return of the lady of the Manor. The Reverend Putwood Leveson +occasionally careered through the village on his bicycle, +accompanied by Oliver Leach who bestrode a similar machine, and both +individuals made a point of grinning broadly as they passed the +church and rectory of St. Rest, jerking their fingers and thumbs at +both buildings with expressively suggestive contempt. + +And by and by the people began to settle down, into the normal +quietude which had been more or less their lot, before Maryllia, +with her vivacious little musical protegee Cicely Bourne had +awakened a new interest and animation in the midst of their small +community,--and they began to resign themselves to the idea that her +'whim' for residing once more in the home of her childhood had +passed, and that she would now, without doubt, marry the future Duke +of Ormistoune, and pass away from the limited circle of St. Rest to +those wider spheres of fashion, the splendours of which, mere +country-folk are not expected to have more than the very faintest +glimmering conception. Even in that independent corner of opinion, +the tap-room of the 'Mother Huff,' her name was spoken with almost +bated breath, though Mr. Netlips was not by any means loth to spare +any flow of oratorical eloquence on the subject. + +"I think, Mr. Buggins," he said one evening, addressing 'mine host' +with due gravity--"I think you will recall to your organisation +certain objective propositions I made with regard to Miss Vancourt, +when that lady first entered into dominative residence at Abbot's +Manor. Personally speaking, I have no discrepancies to suggest +beyond the former utterance. Matters in which I have taken the +customary mercantile interest have culminated with the lady to the +satisfaction of all sides. Nothing has been left standing +controversially on my books. Nevertheless it would be repudiative to +say that I have sophisticated my previous opinion. I said then, and +I confirm the observation, that a heathen cannot enjoy the +prospective right of the commons." + +"I s'pose,"--said Mr. Buggins, meditatively in reference to this +outburst--"you means, Mr. Netlips, that Miss Vancourt is a kind of +heathen?" + +Mr. Netlips nodded severely. + +"'Cos she don't go to church?" suggested Dan Ridley, who as usual +was one of the tap-room talkers. Again Mr. Netlips nodded. + +"Well," said Dan, "she came to church once an' brought her friends-- +-" + +"Late,--very late,"--interposed Mr. Netlips, solemnly--"The +tardiness of her entrance was marked by the strongest decorum. The +strongest, the most open decorum! Deplorable decorum!" + +"What's decorum?" enquired Mr. Buggins, anxiously. + +Mr. Netlips waved one fat hand expressively. + +"Decorum,"--he said--"is--well!--decorum." + +Buggins scratched his head dubiously. Dan Ridley looked perplexed. +There was a silence,--the men listening to the wailing of a rising +wind that was beginning to sweep round the house and whistle down +the big open chimney, accompanied by pattering drops of rain. + +"Summer's sheer over,"--said a labourer, lifting his head from his +tankard of ale--"Howsomever, we're all safe this winter in the worst +o' weather. Rents are all down at 'arf what they was under Oliver +Leach, thanks to the new lady, so whether she's a decorum or not +don't matter to me. She's a right good sort--so here's to her!" + +And he drained off his ale at one gulp with a relish, several men +present following his example. + +"Passon Walden,"--began Dan Ridley--"Passon Walden---" + +But here there was a sudden loud metallic crash. Buggins had +overturned two empty pewter-mugs on his counter. + +"No gossiping o' Passon Walden allowed 'ere,"--he said,--"Not while +I'm master o' this public!" + +"Leeze majestas,"--proclaimed Mr. Netlips, impressively--"You're +right, Buggins--you're quite right! Leeze majestas would be entirely +indigenous--entirely so!" + +An awkward pause ensued. 'Leeze majestas' in all its dark +incomprehensibility had fallen like a weight upon the tavern +company, and effectually checked any further conversation. It was +one of those successful efforts of Mr. Netlips, which, by its +ponderous vagueness and inscrutability, produced an overwhelming +effect. There was nothing to be said after it. + +The gold and crimson glory of autumn slowly waned and died,--and the +village began to look very lonely and dreary. Heavy rains fell and +angry gales blew,--so that when dark November came glooming in, with +lowering skies, there was scarcely so much as a leaf of russet or +scarlet Virginian creeper clinging to roof or wall. The woods around +Abbot's Manor were leafless except where the pines and winter laurel +grew in thick clusters, and where several grand old hollies showed +their scarlet berries ripening among the glossy green. The Manor +itself however looked wide-awake and cheerful,--smoke poured up from +the chimneys and glints of firelight sparkled through the windows,-- +all the shutters, which had been put up after the departure of the +'Sisters Gemini,' were taken down--blinds were raised and curtains +drawn back,--and as soon as these signs and tokens were manifested, +people were not slow in asking Mrs. Spruce whether Miss Vancourt was +coming back for Christmas? But to all enquiries that estimable dame +gave the same answer. She 'didn't know nothink.' The groom Bennett +was equally reticent. He had received 'no orders.' Mr. Stanways, the +agent, and his wife, both of whom had become very friendly with all +the villagers, were cheerfully talkative on every subject but one,-- +that of Miss Vancourt and her movements. All they could or would say +was that her return was 'quite uncertain.' Fires were lighted in the +Manor--oh yes!--to keep the house well aired--and windows were +opened for the same purpose,--but beyond that--'really," said Mr. +Stanways, smiling pleasantly--'I can give no information!' + +The days grew shorter, gloomier and colder,--and soon, when the +chill nip of winter began to make itself felt in grim damp earnest, +the whole county woke up from the pleasant indolence into which the +long bright summer had steeped it, and responded animatedly to the +one pulse of vitality which kept it going. The hunting season began. +Old, otherwise dull men, started up into the semblance of youth +again, and sprang to their saddles with almost as much rigour and +alertness as boys,--and Reynard with his cubs ruled potently the +hour. The first 'meet' of the year was held at Ittlethwaite Park,-- +and for days before it took place nothing else was talked of. +Hunting was really the one occupation of the gentry of the +district,--everything else distinctly 'bored' them. Many places in +England are entirely under the complete dominion of this particular +form of sport,--places, where, if you do not at least talk about +hunting and nothing BUT hunting, you are set down as a fool. +Politics, art, literature,--these matters brought into conversation +merely excite a vacuous stare and yawn,--and you may consider +yourself fortunate if, in alluding to such things at all, you are +not considered as partially insane. To obtain an ordinary reputation +for common-sense in an English hunting county, you must talk horse +all day and play Bridge all night,--then and then only will you have +earned admission into these 'exclusive' circles where the worth of a +quadruped exceeds the brain of a man. + +The morning of the meet dawned dully--yet now and then the sun shone +fitfully through the clouds, lighting up with a cold sparkle the +thick ivy, wet with the last night's rain, which clung to the walls +of Walden's rectory. There was a chill wind, and the garden looked +bleak and deserted, though it was kept severely tidy, Bainton never +failing to see that all fallen leaves were swept up every afternoon +and all weeds 'kep' under.' But there was no temptation to saunter +down the paths or across the damp lawn in such weather, and Walden, +seated by a blazing fire in his study, with Nebbie snoozing at his +feet, was sufficiently comfortable to be glad that no 'parochial' +duties called him forth just immediately from his warm snuggery. He +had felt a little ailing of late--'the oncoming of age and +infirmity,' he told himself, and he looked slightly more careworn. +The strong restraint he had imposed upon himself since he knew the +nature of the scandal started by Lord Roxmouth, and the loyal and +strict silence he had maintained on the subject that was nearest and +dearest to his own heart, had been very trying to him. There was no +one to whom he could in any way unburden his mind. Even to his +closest friend, Bishop Brent, he had merely written the briefest of +letters, informing him that Miss Vancourt had left Abbot's Manor for +a considerable time,--but no more than this. He longed passionately +for news of Maryllia, but none came. The only person to whom he +sometimes spoke of her, but always guardedly, was Julian Adderley. +Julian had received one or two letters from Cicely Bourne,--but they +were all about her musical studies, and never a word of Maryllia in +them. And Julian was almost as anxious to know what had become of +her as Walden himself, the more so as he heard constantly from +Marius Longford, who never ceased urging him to try and discover her +whereabouts. Which request proved that, for once. Lord Roxmouth had +been foiled, and that even he with all his various social detectives +at work, had lost all trace of her. + +On this particular morning of the opening of the hunting season, +Walden sat by the fire reading,--or trying to read. He was conscious +of a great depression,--a 'fit of the blues,' which he attributed +partly to the damp, lowering weather. Idly he turned over the leaves +of a first edition of Tennyson's poems,--pausing here and there to +glance at a favourite lyric or con over a well-remembered verse, +when the echo of a silvery horn blown clear on the wintry silence +startled him out of his semi-abstraction. Rising, he went +instinctively to the window, though from that he could see nothing +but his own garden, looking blank enough in its flowerless +condition, the only bright speck in it being a robin sitting on a +twig hard by, that ruffled its red breast prettily and blinked its +trustful eye at him with a friendly air of sympathy and recognition. +He listened attentively for a moment and heard the approaching trot +and gallop of horses,--then suddenly recalling the fact that the +hounds were to meet that day at Ittlethwaite Park, he took his hat +and went out to see if any of the hunters were passing by. + +A wavering mass of colour gleamed at the farther end of the village +as he looked down the winding road;--scarlet coats, white vests and +buckskin breeches showed bravely against the satiny brown and greys +of a fine group of gaily prancing steeds that came following after +the huntsmen, the hounds and the whippers-in, and a cheery murmur of +pleasant voices, broken with an occasional musical ring of laughter, +dispersed for a time the heaviness of the rainy air. Something +unusually pleasant seemed to animate the faces of all who composed +the hunting train as they came into view,--Miss Arabella +Ittlethwaite, for example, portly of bulk though she was, sat in her +saddle with an almost mirthful lightness, her good-natured fat face +all smiles,--while her brother Bruce, laughing heartily over +something which had evidently tickled his fancy, looked more like +thirty than sixty, so admirably did his 'pink' become him, and so +excellently well did he ride. Walden saluted them as they passed, +and they gave him a pleasant 'good-day.' But,--what was that sudden +flash of deep purple, which the fitful sun, peering sulkily through +grey clouds, struck upon quickly with a slanting half-smile of +radiance? What--and who was the woman riding lightly, with uplifted +head like a queen, in the midst of the company, surrounded by all +the younger men of the neighbourhood who, keeping their horses close +on either side of her, appeared to be trying to outrival each other +in eager attentions, in questions and answers, in greetings and hat- +liftings, and general exchange of courtesies? Walden rubbed his +eyes, and gazed and gazed,-anon his heart gave a wild leap, and he +felt himself growing deadly pale. Had the portrait of 'Mary Elia +Adelgisa de Vaignecourt' in Abbot's Manor come visibly to life?--or +was it, could it be indeed,--Maryllia? + +He would gladly have turned away, but some stronger force than his +own held him fast where he stood, stricken with surprise, and a +gladness that was almost fear. The swaying gleam of purple came +nearer and nearer, and resolved itself at last into definite shape,- +-Maryllia's face, Maryllia's eyes! Almost mechanically he half +opened his gate as all the hunters went trotting by, and she alone +reined in her mare 'Cleopatra' and spoke to him. + +"How do you do, Mr. Walden!" + +He looked up--and looking, smiled. What a child she was after all!-- +full of quaint vanities surely, and naive coquetry! For her riding- +dress was the exact copy of that worn by her pictured ancestress +"Mary Elia,'--even to the three-cornered hat and the tiny rose +fastened in the bodice which was turned back with embroidered gold +revers,--so that the 'lady in the vi'let velvet' appeared before him +as it were, re-incarnated,--and the pouting lips, sweet eyes and +radiant hair were all part of the witch-glamour and mystery! +Mastering his thoughts with an effort, he raised his hat in his +usual quietly courteous way. + +"This is a great surprise, Miss Vancourt!" he said, lightly, though +his voice trembled a little--"And a happy one! The villagers will be +delighted to see you back again! When did you return?" + +"Last night,"--she answered, fixing her frank gaze fully upon him +and noting with a sharp little pang of compunction that he looked +far from well--"I felt I MUST be here for the first meet of the +season! I've been staying in an old convent on the Breton coast,-- +such a dear quaint place! And I think,"--here she nodded her pretty +head wisely--"I THINK I've brought you enough stained glass to quite +finish your rose-window! I've been busy collecting it ever since I +left here. Gently, Cleo!--gently, my beauty!"--this, as her mare +pawed the ground restlessly and sprang forward--"Come and see me to- +morrow, Mr. Walden! I shall expect you!" + +Waving her gloved hand she cantered off and rejoined the rest of the +hunters going on ahead. Once she turned in her saddle and looked +back,--and again waved her hand. The sun came out fully then, and +sweeping aside the grey mists, ehed all its brightness on the +graceful figure in the saddle, striking a reflex of rose from the +soft violet riding-dress, and sparkling against the rippling twists +of gold-brown, hair,--then,--as she disappeared between two rows of +leafless trees,--withdrew itself again frowningly and shone no more +that day. + +Walden re-entered his house, hardly able to sustain the sudden joy +that filled him. He felt himself trembling nervously, and was angry +at his own weakness. + +"I am more foolish than any love-sick boy!" he said to himself with +inward remonstrance--"And God knows I am old enough to know better! +But I cannot help being glad she has come home!--I cannot help it! +For with her presence it seems to me that 'the winter is past, the +rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, and the time +of the singing of birds is come'! She is so full of life and +brightness!-we shall know nothing of dull days or gloomy skies in +St. Rest if she stays with us,--though perhaps for me it might be +wiser and safer to choose the dull days and gloomy skies rather than +tempt my soul with the magical light of an embodied spring in +winter-time! But I shall be careful,--careful of myself and of her,- +-I shall guard her name in every way, on my side--and if--if I love +her, she shall never know it!" + +He resumed his former seat by the study fire, and again took up his +volume of Tennyson. And opening the book at hazard, his glance fell +on that exquisite 'Fragment' which perhaps excels in its own way all +the 'Idylls of the King'-- + + "As she fled fast thro' sun and shade, + The happy winds upon her play'd, + Blowing the ringlet from the braid: + She look'd so lovely as she sway'd + The rein with dainty finger-tips. + A man had given all other bliss, + And all his worldly worth for this, + To waste his whole heart in one kiss + Upon her perfect lips." + +"Quite true!" he said, as he read the lines half aloud, a tender +smile lighting up the gravity of his deep thoughtful eyes--"True to +the life, so far as the Guinevere of to-day is concerned! But let +the simile stop there, John, my boy! Don't carry it any further! +Don't deceive yourself as to your own demerits! You are nothing but +an old-fashioned country parson--a regular humdrum, middle-aged +fogey!--that's what you are!--so, even though you HAVE fallen in +love (which at your time of life is a folly you ought to be ashamed +of), don't for Heaven's sake imagine yourself a Lancelot, John!--it +won't do!" + + + + +XXIX + + +Over the moist ground, and under the bare branches that dripped slow +tears of past rain, the brilliant hunting train swept onward, +Maryllia riding in the midst, till they came out on a bare stretch +of moorland covered with sparse patches of gorse and fir. Here they +all paused, listening to the cry of the huntsman in the bottoms, and +watching the hounds as they drew up wind. + +The eyes of every man present wandered now and again to Maryllia in +admiration,--none of them had ever seen her look so lovely, so +bright, so entirely bewitching. She was always at her best in the +saddle. When she had paid her first visit to America with her uncle +and aunt as a girl of sixteen, she had been sent for the benefit of +her health to stay with some people who owned a huge Californian +'ranch,' and there she learned to ride on horses that were scarcely +broken in, and to gallop across miles and miles of prairie, +bareheaded to the burning sun, and had, in such pastime, felt the +glorious sense of that savage and splendid freedom which is the true +heritage of every child of nature,--a heritage too often lost in the +tangled ways of over-civilisation, and seldom or never regained. The +dauntless spirit of joyous liberty was in her blood,--she loved the +fresh air and vigorous exercise, and was a graceful, daring rider, +never knowing what it was to feel a single pulse of fear. Just now +she was radiantly happy. She was glad to be at home again,--and +still more glad that her plans for eluding the pursuit of Lord +Roxmouth had completely succeeded. He had been left absolutely in +the dark as to her whereabouts. His letters to her had been returned +unanswered, through her solicitors, who declined to make any +statement with regard to her movements, and, growing weary at last +of fruitless enquiry, he bad left England to winter in Egypt with a +party of wealthy friends, her aunt, Mrs. Fred Vancourt, being among +the number. She owed this pleasing news to Louis Gigue, who had +assisted her in her flight from the persecution of her detested +wooer. Gigue had, through his influence, managed to introduce her +under an assumed name, as a friend of his own to certain poor nuns +In a Brittany convent, who were only too willing to receive her as a +paying guest for a couple of months, and to ask no questions +concerning her. There she had stayed with exemplary patience and +resignation,--lonely indeed, yet satisfied to have made good her +escape for the time being, and, as she imagined, to have saved John +Walden from any possibility of annoyance chancing to him through +her, or by her means. She would not consent to have even Cicely with +her, lest any accidental clue to her hiding-place might be found and +followed. + +As soon, however, as she heard that Roxmouth had actually left +England, she made haste to return at once to the home she had now +learned to love with a deep and clinging affection, and she had +timed her reappearance purposely for the first meet of the hunting +season. She would show herself, so she resolved, as a free and +independent woman to all the county,--and if people had gossiped +about her, or were prone to gossip, they would soon find out the +error of their ways. Hence the 'creation' of the becoming violet +velvet riding-dress, copied from the picture of her ancestress in +Abbot's Manor gallery. She had determined to make an 'effective' +entrance on the field,--to look as pretty and picturesque as she +possibly could, and to show that she was herself and nobody else, +bound to no authority save her own. + +In this purely feminine ambition she certainly accomplished her end. +She was the centre of attraction,--all the members of the Riversford +Hunt dispersed round and about her in Hear or distant groups, +discussed her in low tones, even while watching the working of the +pack, and scanning every yard of open ground for the first sign of a +fox. Gradually the crowd of horses and riders increased,--men from +the county-town itself, farmers from the more outlying parts of the +neighbourhood, and some of the Badsworth Hall tenantry, having +arrived too late at Ittlethwaite Park for the actual meet, now came +hurriedly galloping up, and among these last was Oliver Leach. It +was the first time Maryllia had seen her dismissed agent since her +rescue of the Five Sister beeches, and she had thought of him so +little that she would not have recognised him now had not his horse, +a vicious-looking restive creature, started plunging close to her +own hunter 'Cleopatra,' and caused that spirited animal to rear +almost upright on her haunches. In the act of reining the mare out +of his way she looked at him, while he, in his turn stared full at +her in evident astonishment. As he appeared gradually to recognise +her identity, his face, always livid, grew more deeply sallow of +hue, and an ugly grin made a gargoyle of his mouth and eyes. She, as +soon as she recollected him, remembered at the same time the curse +he had flung at her--'a May curse,' she thought to herself with a +superstitious little shudder--'and a May curse always begins to work +in November, so the gossips say!' + +Moved by an instinctive distrust and dislike of the man, she turned +her back upon, him, and patting Cleopatra's neck, cantered quickly +ahead to join the rest of the field which was now moving towards +another cover, while the hounds ran through some low thickets of +brushwood and tangled bracken. + +She was in a curious frame of mind, and found her own emotions +difficult to analyse. The momentary glimpse she had just had of John +Walden had filled her with a strangely tender compassion. Why did he +look so worn and worried? Had he missed her? Had her two months and +more of absence seemed as long to him as they had to her? She +wondered! Anon, she asked herself why she wondered! What did it +matter to her what he thought, or how he passed his days? Then a +sudden rush of colour warmed her cheeks, and a light came into her +eyes. It DID matter!--there was no getting away from it,--it did +matter very much what he thought, and it had become of paramount +importance to her to know how he passed his days! + +Deep in her heart a secret sweet consciousness lay nestled,--a +consciousness, subtly feminine, which told her that she was held in +precious estimation by at least one man,--and that she had advanced +towards her most cherished desire of love so far as to have become +'dear to someone else.' And that 'someone else'--who was he? Oh, +well!--nobody in particular!--only a country clergyman,--a poor +creature, so the world might say, to build romances upon! Yet she +was building them fast. One after the other they shaped themselves +like cloud-castles in the airy firmament of her dreams, and she +permitted herself to dwell on the possible joys they suggested. Very +simple joys too!--such as the completion of the rose-window in the +church of St. Rest,--he would be pleased if that were done--yes!-- +she was sure he would be pleased!--and she had managed, during her +sojourn in Brittany, to secure some of the loveliest old stained +glass, dating from the twelfth century, which she meant to give him +to-morrow when he came to see her. To-morrow! What a long time it +seemed till then! And suppose he did not come? Well, then she would +go and see him herself, and would tell him just why she had gone +away from home, and why she had not written, to him or to anybody +else in the neighbourhood,--and then--and then--- + +Here she started at the sound of a sudden 'tally-ho!'--the hounds +had rallied--a fox was 'drawn,'--the whole field was astir, and with +a musical blast of the horn, the hunt swept on in a flash of scarlet +and white, black, brown and grey, across the moor. Maryllia gave +herself up to the excitement of the hour, and galloped along, her +magnificent mare 'Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt' scenting sport in the +wind and enjoying the wild freedom allowed her by a loose rein and +the light weight she bore. On, on!--with the wet chill perfume of +fallen leaves rising from the earth on which the eager hoofs of the +horses trampled,--on, always on, in the track of stealthy Reynard, +over dips and hollows in the ground and shallow pools fringed with +gaunt sedges and twisted brambles,--on, still on, crossing and re- +crossing lines of scent where the hounds appeared for the moment at +a loss, till they dashed off again towards the farther woods. +Putting her mare to a fence and clearing it easily, Maryllia crossed +a meadow, which she knew to be the shortest way to the spot where +she could just see the pack racing silently ahead,--and, coming out +on one of the high-roads between St. Rest and Riversford, she drew +rein for a moment. Several of the hunters had chosen the same short- +cut, and came out of the meadow with her, calling a cheery word or +two as they passed her and pressed on in the ardour of the chase. + +Quickly resuming her gallop, and yielding to the exhilaration of the +air and the pleasure of movement, she urged her mare to a pace which +would have been deemed reckless by all save the most skilled and +daring riders, unaware of the unpleasant fact that she was being +closely followed by Oliver Leach. He rode about twenty paces behind +her, every now and then gaining on her, and anon pulling back his +horse in an apparent desire not to outstrip her. The rest of the +hunting party were well ahead, and they had the road to themselves, +with the exception of a fat man on a bicycle, who was careering +along in front of them, looking something like a ton on wheels. +Maryllia soon flew past this moving rotundity, and even if she had +had time to look at it, she would not have known that it was the +Reverend Putwood Leveson, as she had never seen that gentleman. +Catching a glimpse of the hounds, now racing round the edge of a +sloping hill, she galloped faster and faster,--while Oliver Leach, +with an odd set expression in his face and eyes, and his hat well +pulled down on his brows, followed her at an almost equally flying +speed. A ploughed field lay between them, and the smooth dark slope +of land edged with broken furze, where the pack could be plainly +seen racing for blood. A moderately low, straggling hedge +intervened. Such an obstacle was a mere trifle for 'Cleopatra, Queen +of Egypt' to clear, and Maryllia put her to it with her usual ease +and buoyancy. But now up came Oliver Leach on his ill-formed but +powerful beast;--and just as the spirited mare, with her lightly +poised rider on her back, leaped the hedge, he set his own animal at +precisely the same place in deliberate defiance of all hunting +rules, and springing at her like a treacherous enemy from behind, +closed on her haunches, and pounded straight over her! Maryllia +reeled in her saddle,--for one half second, her blue eyes wide with +terror, turned themselves full upon her pursuer--she raised her hand +appealingly--warningly--in vain! With a crash of breaking brushwood +the mare went down under the plunging hoofs that came thudding so +heavily upon her,--there was a quick shriek--a blur of violet and +gold hurled to the ground--and then,--then Leach galloped on--alone! +He dared not look back! His nerves throbbed--his heart beat high,-- +and his evil soul rejoiced in its wickedness as only the soul of a +devil can. + +"Verdict--accidental death!" he muttered, with a fierce laugh--"No +doubt it will be thought singular that the daughter should have met +the same end as her father! And nothing more will be said. But +suppose she is not killed, since every cat has nine lives? No +matter, she will be disfigured for life! That will suit me just as +well!" + +He laughed again, and passed on in the wake of the hunt which had +now swept far ahead round the bend of the hill. + +Meanwhile, 'Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt,' rendered stunned and dizzy +by her fall, began to recover her equine senses. Sniffing the air +and opening her wild bright eyes, she soon perceived her loved +mistress lying flung about three yards distant from where she +herself had rolled over and over on the thick wet clod of the field. +With a supreme effort the gallant beast attempted to rise,--and +presently, with much plunging and kicking, in which struggles +however, she with an almost human intelligence pushed herself +farther away from that prone figure on the ground, so that she might +not injure it, she managed to stand upright, quivering in every +strained, sore limb. Lifting her head, she whinnied with a +melancholy long-drawn plaintiveness, and then with a slow, stiff +hobble, moved cautiously closer to Maryllia's fallen body. There she +paused and whinnied again, while the grey skies lowered and rain +began to ooze from the spreading leaden weight of cloud. + +And now assistance seemed near, for the Reverend Putwood Leveson, +having had to lead his bicycle up a hill, and being overcome with a +melting tallow of perspiration in the effort, hove in sight like an +unwieldy porpoise bobbing up on dry land. Approaching the broken gap +in the hedge, he quickly spied the mare, and realised the whole +situation. Now was the chance for a minister of Christ to show his +brave and gentle ministry! He had a flask of brandy in his pocket,-- +he never went anywhere without it. He felt it, where it was +concealed, comfortably pressed against his heart,--then he peered +blandly over the hedge at the helpless human creature lying there +unconscious. He knew who it was,--who it must be,--for, as he had +cycled through the village after the hunt had started, he had heard +everyone talking of Miss Vancourt's unexpected return, and how she +had been the 'queen' of the meet that morning. Besides, she had +passed him on the road, riding at full gallop. He wiped his forehead +now and smiled pleasantly. + +"Queens are very soon discrowned!"--he said to himself--"And, +fortunately, vacant thrones are soon filled! Now if that sneak +Walden were here---" + +He paused considering. The remembrance of the indignity he had +suffered at the hands of Julian Adderley was ever fresh with him,-- +an indignity brought about all through the very woman who was now +perhaps dying before his eyes, if she was not already dead. +Suddenly, pushing his way through the broken hedge, he approached +'Cleopatra' cautiously. The malignant idea entered his brain that if +he could make the animal start and plunge, her hoofs would crush the +body of her mistress more surely and completely. Detestable as the +impulse was, it came quite naturally to him. He had helped to kill +butterflies often--why not a woman? The murderous instinct was the +same in both cases. He tried to snatch the mare's bridle-rein, but +she jerked her head away from him, and stood like a rock. He could +not move her an inch. Only her great soft eyes kindled with a +warning fire as he hovered about her,--and a decided movement of one +of her hind hoofs suggested that possibly he might have the worst of +any attempt to play pranks with her. He paused a moment, +considering. + +"Oliver Leach came this way,"--he mused--"He passed me almost +immediately after she did. Is this his work, I wonder?" Here he drew +out his always greasy pocket-handkerchief and wiped his face with as +much tender care as though it were a handsome one--"I shouldn't be +surprised,"--he continued, in a mild sotto-voce--"I shouldn't be at +all surprised if he had arranged this little business! Clever--very! +Fatal accidents in the hunting-field are quite common. He knows +that. So do I. But I shall find out,--yes!--I shall find out---" + +Here he almost jumped with an access of 'nerves'--for 'Cleopatra, +Queen of Egypt' suddenly stretched out her long arched neck and +whinnied with piteous, beseeching loudness. A pause of intense +stillness followed the mare's weird cry,--a stillness broken only by +the slow pattering of rain. Then from the near distance came the +baying of hounds and a far echo of the hunting horn. + +Seized by panic, the Reverend 'Putty' scrambled quickly out of the +ploughed field, through the broken hedge and on to the high-road +again, where taking himself to his bicycle again, he scurried away +like a rat from falling timber. He had been on his way to Riversford +when he had stopped to look at the little fallen heap of violet and +gold,--guarded so faithfully by a four-footed beast twenty times +more 'Christian' in natural feeling than his 'ordained' clerical +self,--and he now resumed that journey. And though, as he neared the +town, he met many persons of the neighbourhood on foot, in carts, +and light-wheeled traps, he never once paused to give news of the +accident, or so much as thought of sending means of assistance. + +"I am not supposed to have seen anything,"--he said, with a fat +smile--"and I am not supposed to know! I shall certainly not be +asked to assist at the funeral service. Walden will attend to that!" + +He cycled on rapidly, and arriving at Riversford went to tea with +the brewer's wife, Mrs. Mordaunt Appleby, at Appleby Hall, and was +quite fatherly and benevolent to her son, a lumpy child of ten, the +future heir to all the malt, hops, barrels, vats, and poisonous +chemicals comprising the Appleby estates in this world. + +The afternoon closed in coldly and mournfully. A steady weeping +drizzle of rain set in. Some of the hunters returned through St. +Rest by twos and threes, looking in a woeful condition, bespattered +up to their saddles with mud, and feeling, no doubt, more or less +out of temper, as notwithstanding a troublesome and fatiguing run, +the fox had escaped them after all. It was about five o'clock, when +Walden, having passed a quiet day among his books, and having felt +the sense of a greater peace and happiness at his heart than he had +been conscious of since the May-day morning of the year, pushed +aside his papers, rose from his chair, and, looking out at the +dreary weather, wondered if the 'Guinevere' of the hunt had got +safely home from her gallop across country. + +"She will be wet through,"--he thought,--the tender smile that made +his face so lovable playing softly round his lips--"But she will not +mind that! She will laugh, and brush out her pretty hair all ruffled +and wet with the rain,--her cheeks will be glowing with colour, and +her lips will be as red as the cherries when they first begin to +ripen,--her eyes will be bright with health and vitality,--and life- +-young life--life full of joy and hope and brightness will radiate +from her as the light radiates from the sun. And I shall bask in the +luminance of her smile--I, cold and grey, like a burnt-out ember of +perished possibilities,--I shall warm my chill soul at the sweet +fire of her presence--I shall see her to-morrow!" + +He went to the hearth and stirred the smouldering logs into a bright +blaze. He was just about to ring for fresh fuel, when there came a +sudden, alarmed knocking at the street door. Somewhat startled, he +listened, his hand on the bell. He heard the light step of Hester +the housemaid tripping along the passage quickly to answer the +imperative summons,--there was a confused murmur of voices--and then +a sudden cry of horror,--and a loud burst of sobbing. + +"Whist--whist!--be quiet, be quiet!" said a hoarse trembling voice +which it was difficult to recognise as Bainton's; "For the Lord's +sake, don't make that noise, gel! Think o' Passon!--do'ee think o' +Passon! We must break it to 'im gently like---" But the hysterical +sobbing broke out again and drowned all utterance. + +And still Walden stood, listening. A curious rigidity affected his +nerves. Something had happened--but what? His dry lips refused to +frame the question. All at once, he roused himself. With a couple of +strides across his little study he threw open the door and went out +into the passage. There stood Hester with her apron thrown over her +head, weeping convulsively--while Bainton, leaning against the ivied +porch entrance to ths house, was trembling like a woman in an ague +fit. + +"What's the matter?" said Walden, in a voice of almost peremptory +loudness,--a voice that sounded harsh and wild on his own ears-- +"What has happened?" + +"Oh-oh--Oh-oh!" wailed Hester--"Oh, Mr. Walden, oh, sir, I can't +tell you! I can't indeed!--it's about Miss Vancourt--oh--poor dear +little lady!--oh-oh! I can't--I can't say it! I can't!" + +"Don't ye try, my gel!"--said Bainton, gently--"You ain't fit +for't,--don't ye try! Which I might a'known a woman's 'art couldn't +abear it,--nor a man's neither!" Here he turned his pale face upon +his master, and the slow tears began to trickle down his furrowed +cheeks. + +"Passon Walden,"--he began, in shaking accents--"Passon Walden, sir, +I'm fair beside myself 'ow to tell ye--but you're a brave man wot +knows the ways o' God an' 'ow mortal 'ard they seems to us all +sometimes, poor an' rich alike, an' 'ow it do 'appen that the +purttiest flowers is the quickest gone, an' the brightest wimin too, +for that matter,--an'--an'---" Here his rough halting voice broke +into a hoarse sob--"Oh, Passon, it's a blow!--it's a mortal 'ard +blow!--she was a dear, sweet lady an' a good one, say what they +will, an' 'ow they will--an' she's gone, Passon!--we won't never see +her no more!--she's gone!" + +A swirling blackness came over Walden's eyes for a moment. He tried +to realise what was being said, but could not grasp its meaning. +Making a strong effort to control his nerves he spoke, slowly and +with difficulty. + +"Gone? I don't understand you,--I---" + +Here, as he stood at the open doorway, he saw in the gathering dusk +of evening a small crowd of villagers moving slowly along the road. +Some burden was being carried tenderly between them,--it was like a +walking funeral. Someone was dead then? He puzzled himself as to who +it could be? He was the parson of the parish,--he had received no +intimation! And the hour was late,--they must put it off till to- +morrow! Yes--till to-morrow, when he would see Maryllia! Startled by +the sudden ghastly pallor of his master's face, Bainton ventured to +lay a hand on his arm. + +"She was found two hours ago,"--he said, in hushed tones--"Up on +Farmer Thorpe's ploughed field--all crushed on the clods, an' no one +nigh 'er 'cept the mare. An' the mare was as sensible as a 'uman, +for she was a-whinnyin' loud like cryin' for 'elp--an' Dr. Forsyth +'e came by in his gig, drivin' 'ome from Riversford an' he 'ad his +man with 'im, so 'tween them both, they got some 'elp an' brought +'er 'ome--but I'm feared it's too late!--I'm awesome feared it's too +late!" + +Walden looked straight down the road, watching the oncoming of the +little crowd. + +"I think I begin to know what you mean," he said, slowly. "There has +been an accident to Miss Vancourt. She has been thrown--but she is +not dead! Not dead. Of course not! She could not be!" + +As he spoke, he pushed aside Bainton's appealing hand gently yet +firmly and walked out bareheaded like a man in a dream to meet the +little ghost-like procession that was now approaching him nearly. He +felt himself trembling violently,--had he been called upon to meet +his own instant destruction at that moment, he would have been far +less unnerved. Low on the wet autumnal wind came the sound of men's +murmuring voices, of women's suppressed sobbing;--in the semi- +obscurity of fading light and deepening shadow he could discern and +recognise the figure of his friend the local doctor, 'Jimmy' +Forsyth, who was walking close beside a hastily improvised stretcher +composed of the boughs of trees and covered with men's coats and +driving-rugs,--and he could see the shadowy shape of 'Cleopatra, +Queen of Egypt,' being led slowly on in the rear, her proud head +drooping dejectedly, her easy stride changed to a melancholy limping +movement,--her saddle empty. And, as he looked, some nerve seemed to +tighten across his brows,--a burning ache and strain, as if a strong +cord stretched to a tension of acutest agony tortured his brain,-- +and for a moment he lost all other consciousness but the awful sense +of death,--death in the air,--death in the cold rain--death in the +falling leaves--death in the deepening gloom of the night,--and +death, palpable, fierce and cruel in the solemn gliding approach of +that funeral group,--that hearse-like burden of the perished +brightness, the joyous innocence, the sunny smile, the radiant hair, +the sweet frank eyes--the all of beauty that was once Maryllia! +Then, unaware of his own actions, he went forward giddily, blindly +and unreasoningly---till, coming face to face with the little moving +group of awed and weeping people, all of whom halted abruptly at +sight of him, he suddenly stretched forth his hands as though they +held a book at arm's length, and his voice, tremulous, yet resonant, +struck through the hush of sudden silence. + +"I am the Resurrection and the Life, saith the Lord: he that +believeth on Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and +whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die!" + +A tragic pause ensued. Every face was turned upon him in tearful +wonder. Dr. Forsyth came quickly up to him. + +"Walden!" he said, in a low tone--"What is this? What are you +saying? You are not yourself! Come home!" + +But John stood rigidly inert. His tall slight figure, fully erect, +looked almost spectral in the mists of the gathering night. He went +on reciting solemnly,-- + +"I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the +latter day upon the earth. And though worms destroy this body, yet +in my flesh shall I see God: whom I shall see for myself, and mine +eyes shall behold and not another!" + +Here there was a general movement of consternation in the little +crowd. Parson Walden was beginning to read the burial service! Then +men whispered to one another,--and some of the women burst out +crying bitterly. Dr. Forsyth became alarmed. + +"John!" he said, imperatively--"Rouse yourself, man! You are ill--I +see you are ill,--but I cannot attend to you now! Try not to delay +me, for God's sake! Miss Vancourt is seriously injured--but I MAY +save her life. She is not dead." + +Something snapped like a broken harp-string behind Walden's +temples,--the horrible tension was relieved. + +"Not dead--not dead?" he muttered--"Not dead? Forsyth, are you +sure?" + +"Sure!" + +His face changed and softened,--a sudden sweet moisture freshened +his eyes. + +"Thank God!" he murmured. + +Then he looked about him like a man suddenly wakened from sleep. He +was still unable quite to realise his surroundings or what he had +done. + +"Forgive me!" he said, pathetically--"I am afraid I have been a +trouble to you! I've been studying too much this afternoon,--and-- +and--I don't know why I came out here just now--I'll--I'll go in. +Will you let me know how--how---" + +Forsyth nodded comprehensively. + +"You shall know everything--best or worst--to-morrow,"--he said-- +"But now go in and lie down, Walden! You want rest!" + +At an imperative sign from him, Walden obediently turned away, not +daring to look at the men that now passed him, carrying Maryllia's +senseless form back to Abbot's Manor, the beloved home from which +she had ridden forth so gaily that morning. He re-entered the still +open doorway of his rectory, wholly unconscious that his +parishioners, deeply affected by his strange and sudden mind- +bewilderment, were now all as anxious about him as they were about +Maryllia,--he was too dazed to see that the faithful Bainton still +waited for him on his own threshold, or that his servant Hester was +still crying as though her heart would break. He passed all and +everyone--and went straight upstairs to his own bedroom, where he +closed and locked the door. There, smiling down upon him was the +portrait of his dead sister,--and there too, just above his bed was +an engraving of the tragically sweet Head crowned with thorns, of +Guido's 'Ecce Homo.' On this his gaze rested abstractedly. His +temples ached and throbbed, and there was a dull cold heaviness at +his heart. Keeping his eyes still on the pictured face of Christ, he +dropped on his knees, clasped his hands, and tried to pray, but +could not. How should he appeal to a God who was cruel enough to +kill a bright creature like Maryllia in the very zenith and fair +flowering-time of her womanhood!--an innocent happy soul that had no +thought or wish to do anyone any harm! And then he remembered his +own reproaches to his friend Bishop Brent whom he had accused of +selfishness for allowing his life to be swayed by the memory of an +inconsolable sorrow and loss. 'You draw a mourning veil of your own +across the very face of God!' So he had said,--and was he not ready +now to do the same? Suddenly, like the teasing refrain of a haunting +melody, there came back to his mind the verse he had read that +morning: + + "As she fled fast thro' sun and shade, + The happy winds upon her play'd, + Blowing the ringlet from the braid: + She look'd so lovely as she sway'd + The rein with dainty finger-tips. + A man had given all other bliss, + And all his worldly wealth for this, + To waste his whole heart in one kiss + Upon her perfect lips." + +Over and over these rhymes went, jingling their sweet concord in his +brain,--till all at once the strong pressure upon his soul relaxed,- +-a great sigh escaped his lips--and with the sigh came the sudden +breaking of the wave of grief. A rush of scalding tears blinded his +eyes--and with a hard sob of agony his head fell forward on his +clasped hands. + +"Spare me her life, O God!" he passionately prayed--"Oh God, oh God! +Save Guinevere!" + + + + +XXX + + +And now a cloud of heavy sorrow and foreboding hung over the little +village. All its inhabitants were oppressed by a dreary sense of +helpless wretchedness and personal loss. Maryllia was not dead,--but +it was to be feared that she was dying,--slowly, and by inches as it +were, yet nevertheless surely. A great specialist had been summoned +from London by Dr. Forsyth, and after long and earnest consultation, +his verdict upon her case had been well-nigh hopeless. Thereupon +Cicely Bourne was immediately sent for, and arrived from Paris in +all haste, only to fall into a state of utter despair. For there +seemed no possible chance of saving the dear and valuable life of +her beloved friend and protectress to whom she owed all her +happiness, all her future prospects. And thus confronted with a +tragedy more dire and personal than any she had ever pictured in her +wildest imaginative efforts, she sat by Maryllia's bedside, hour +after hour, day after day, night after night, stunned by grief, +watching, weeping, and waiting for the least glimmer of returning +consciousness in that unconscious form which lay so terribly inert, +like a figure of life-in-death before her, till she became the mere +gaunt, little ghost of herself, her large melancholy dark eyes alone +expressing the burning vital anguish of her soul. A telegram +conveying the sad news of her niece's accident had been sent to Mrs. +Fred Vancourt at the Gezireh Palace Hotel, Cairo, to which, with the +happy vagueness which so often characterizes the ultra-fashionable +woman, Mrs. Fred had replied direct to Maryllia herself thus: + +"So glad to know where you really are at last, but sorry you have +met with a spill. Hope you have a good doctor and nurses. Will write +on return from expedition to Luxor. Lord Roxmouth much regrets to +hear of accident and thinks it lucky you are back in your own home." + +Of course this 'sympathetic' message was not read by its intended +recipient at the time of its arrival. Maryllia lay blind, deaf and +senseless to all that was going on around her, and for many days +gave no sign of life whatever save a faint uneasy breathing and an +occasional moan. Cicely was left alone to face all difficulties, to +receive and answer all messages and to take upon herself for the +time being the ostensible duties of the mistress of Abbot's Manor. +She bent her energies to the task, though she felt that her heart +must break in the effort,--and with tears blinding her eyes, she +told poor Mrs. Spruce, who was quite stupefied by the sudden crash +of misfortune that had fallen upon the household, that she meant to +try and do her best to keep everything going on just as Maryllia +would wish it kept, "till--till--she gets better,"--she faltered +sobbingly--"and you will help me, dear Mrs. Spruce, won't you?" + +Whereupon Mrs. Spruce took the poor child into her motherly arms, +and they both cried and kissed each other, moved by the same common +woe. + +The Manor was soon besieged with callers. Everyone in the county +flocked thither to leave cards, and express their sympathy for the +unfortunate mischance that had overtaken the bright creature who had +been the cynosure of all eyes for her beauty and grace on the +morning of the first fox-hunt of the year. All the ill-natured +gossip, all the slanderous tittle-tattle which had been started by +Lord Roxmouth and fostered by Miss Tabitha Pippitt, ebbed and died +away in the great wave of honest regret and kindly pity that +pervaded the whole neighbourhood. Even Sir Morton Pippitt, smitten +by compunction for certain selfish motives which had inspired him to +serve Lord Roxmouth as a willing tool, was an indefatigable, almost +daily enquirer as to Maryllia's condition, for though pompous, +blusterous, and to a very great extent something of a snob, his +nature was not altogether lacking in the milk of human kindness like +that of his daughter Tabitha. She, still smarting under the jealous +conviction that John Walden was secretly enamoured of the Lady of +the Manor, had heard the strange story of his having so far +forgotten his usual self as to wander out bareheaded in the evening +air and recite the commencement of the burial service like a man +distraught when Maryllia's crushed body had been brought home, and +she thought of it often with an inward rage she could scarcely +conceal. Almost,--such was her acrimony and vindictiveness--she +wished Maryllia would die. + +"Serve her right!" she said to herself, setting her thin lips +spitefully together--"Serve her right!" + +There are a great many eminently respectable ladies of Miss +Tabitha's temperament who always say 'Serve her right,' when a +pretty and charming woman, superior to themselves, meets with some +misfortune. They regard it as a just dispensation of Providence. + +John Walden meanwhile had braced himself to face the worst that +could happen. Or rather, as he chose to put it, strength, not his +own, had been given him to stand up, albeit feebly, under the shock +of unexpected disaster. Pale, composed, punctilious in the +performance of all his duties, and patiently attentive to the needs +of his parishioners, he went about among them as usual in his own +quiet, sympathetic way just as if his heart were not crying out in +fierce rebellion against inexorable destiny,--and as if he were not +wildly clamouring to be near her whom, now that she was being taken +from him, he knew that he loved with an ardour far deeper and +stronger than with the same passion common to men in the first flush +of their early manhood. And though he sent Bainton every day up to +the Manor to make enquiries about her, he never went near the place +himself. He could not. Brave as he tried to be, he could not meet +Cicely Bourne. He knew that one look into the little singer's +piteous dark eyes would have broken him down completely. + +Every night Dr. 'Jimmy' Forsyth came to the rectory with the latest +details respecting Maryllia's condition,--though for weeks there was +no change to report. She was suffering from violent concussion of +the brain, and was otherwise seriously injured, but Forsyth would +not as yet state how serious the injuries were. For he guessed +Walden's secret, and was deeply touched by the quiet patience and +restrained sorrow of the apparently calm, self-contained man who, +notwithstanding his own inward acute agony, never forgot a single +detail having to do with the poor or sick of the parish,--who +soothed little Ipsie Frost's bewildered grief concerning her 'poor +bootiful white lady-love,'--and who sat with old Josey Letherbarrow +by his cottage fire, trying as best he could to explain, ay, even to +excuse the mysterious ways of divine Providence as apparently shown +in the visitation of cruel affliction on the head of a sweet and +innocent woman. Josey was a little dazed about it all and could not +be brought to realise that 'th' owld Squire's gel' might never rise +from her bed again. + +"G'arn with ye!" he said, indignantly, to the melancholy village +gossips who came in to see him and shake their heads generally over +life and its brief vanities--"Th' Almighty Lord ain't a pulin', +spiteful, hoppitty kicketty devil wot ain't sure of 'is own mind! He +don't make a pretty thing just to break it agin all for nowt! Didn't +ye all come clickettin' to me about the Five Sister beeches, an' +ain't they still stannin'? An' Miss Maryllia 'ull stan' too just as +fast an' firm as the trees,--you take my wurrd for't! She ain't +goin' to die! Why look at me--just on ninety, an' I ain't dead yet!" + +But a qualm of fear and foreboding came over him whenever 'Passon' +visited him. John's sad face told him more than words could express. + +"Ain't she no better, Passon?" he would ask, timidly and +tremblingly. + +And John, laying his own hand on the old brown wrinkled one, would +reply gently, + +"No better, Josey! But we must hope,--we must hope always, and +believe that God will be merciful." + +"An' if He ain't merciful, what'll we do?" persisted Josey once, +with tears in his poor dim eyes. + +"We must submit!" answered John, almost sternly--"We must believe +that He knows what is wise and good for her--and for us all! And we +must live out our lives patiently without her, Josey!--patiently, +till the blessed end--till that peace cometh which passeth all +understanding!" + +And Josey, looking at him, was awed by the pale spiritual serenity +of his features and the tragic human grief of his eyes. + +One person in the neighbourhood proved himself a mainstay of help +and consolation during this time of general anxiety and suspense, +and this was Julian Adderley. He was always at hand and willing to +be of service. He threw his 'dreams' of poesy to the winds and +became poet in earnest,--poet in sympathy with others,--poet in +kindly thought,--poet in constant delicate ways of solace to the man +he had learned to respect above all others, and whose unspoken love +and despair he recognised with more passionate appreciation than any +grandly written tragedy. He had gone at once to the Manor on +Cicely's arrival there, and had laid himself, metaphorically so to +speak, at her feet. When she had first seen him, all oppressed by +the weight of her sorrow as she was, she had burst out crying, +whereat he had, without the slightest hesitation or embarrassment, +taken her in his arms and kissed her. Neither he nor she seemed the +least surprised at the spontaneity of their mutual caress,--it came +quite naturally. "It was so new--so fresh!" said Julian afterwards. +And from that eventful moment, he had installed himself more or less +at the Manor, under Cicely's orders. He wrote letters for her, +answered telegrams, drew up a formal list of 'Callers' and +'Enquiries,' kept accounts, went errands for the two trained nurses +who were in day and night attendance on the unconscious invalid +upstairs, and made himself generally useful and reliable. But his +'fantastic' notions were the same as ever. He would not, as he put +it, 'partake of food' at the Manor while its mistress was lying +ill,--nor would he allow any servant in the household to wait upon +him. He merely came and went, quietly to and fro, giving his best +services to all, and never failing to visit Walden every day, and +tell him all the latest news. He even managed to make friends with +the great dog Plato, who, ever since Maryllia's accident, had taken +up regular hours of vigil outside her bedroom door, regardless of +doctor and nurses, though he would move his leonine body gently +aside whenever they passed in or out, showing a perfectly +intelligent comprehension of their business. Plato every now and +again would indulge in a walk abroad with Julian, accompanying him +as far as the rectory, where he would enter, laying his broad head +on Walden's knee with a world of sympathy in his loving brown eyes, +while Nebbie, half-jealous, half-gratified, squatted humbly in the +shadow of his feathery tail. And John found a certain melancholy +pleasure in caressing the very dog Maryllia loved, and would sit, +thoughtfully stroking the animal's thick coat, while Adderley and +Dr. Forsyth, both of whom were now accustomed to meet in his little +study every evening, discussed the pros and cons of what was likely +to happen when Maryllia woke from her long trance of insensibility. +Would her awakening be to life or death? John listened to their +talk, himself saying nothing, all unaware that they talked merely to +cheer him and to try and put the best light they could on the face +of affairs in order to give him the utmost hope. + +The weary days rolled on in rain and gloom,--Christmas came and went +with a weight and dullness never before known in St. Rest. Every +Sunday since the accident, Walden had earnestly requested the +prayers of his congregation for Miss Vancourt, 'who was seriously +ill'--and on Christmas Day, he gave out the same request, with a +pathetic alteration in the wording, which as he uttered it, caused +many people to sob as they listened. + +"The prayers of this congregation," he said--"are desired for +Maryllia Vancourt, who has been much beloved among you, and whose +life is now in imminent peril!" + +A chill seemed to strike through the church,--an icy blast far +colder than the wintry wind,--the alabaster sarcophagus in front of +the altar seemed all at once invested with a terrible significance,- +-death, and death only was the sovereign ruler of the world! And +when the children's choir rose to give the 'Hark the herald angels +sing, Glory to the new-born King'--their voices were unsteady and +fell out of tune into tears. + +Maryllia was indeed in 'imminent peril.' She had become suddenly +restless, and her suffering had proportionately increased. At the +earliest symptom of returning consciousness, the attention of the +watchers at her bedside became redoubled;--should she speak, they +were anxious to hear the first word that escaped her lips. For as +yet, no one knew how she had come by her accident. None of the +hunters had seen her fall, and Bennett the groom, stoutly refused to +believe that the mare had either missed her jump, or thrown her +mistress. + +"She couldn't have done it,"--he declared--"And if she could, she +wouldn't! She's too sensible, and Miss Vancourt's too sure a rider. +Something's at the bottom of it all, and I'd give a good deal to +find out what it is, and WHO it is!" + +Thus said Bennett, with many dark nods of meaning, and gradually the +idea that Maryllia had been the victim of foul play, took root in +the minds of all the villagers who heard him. Everyone in the place +was on the watch for a clue,--a whisper,--a stray suggestion as to +the possible cause of the mischief. But so far nothing had been +discovered. + +On the night before the last of the year, Maryllia, who had been +tossing uneasily all the afternoon, and moaning piteously, suddenly +opened her eyes and looked about her with a frightened air of +recognition. Cicely, always at hand with the nurse in attendance, +went quickly to the bedside in a tremour of hope and fear. + +"Maryllia! Dearest, do you know me?" + +She stared vaguely, and a faint smile hovered about her lips. Then +her brows suddenly knitted into a perplexed, pained frown, and she +said quite clearly-- + +"It was Oliver Leach!" + +Cicely gave a little cry. The nurse warned her into silence by a +gesture. There was a pause. Maryllia looked from one to the other +wistfully. + +"It was not Cleo's fault," she went on, speaking slowly, but +distinctly--"Cleo never missed. Oliver Leach took the hedge just +behind us. It was wrong! He meant to kill me. I saw it in his face!" +She shuddered violently, and her eyelids closed. "He was cruel-- +cruel!" she murmured feebly--"But I was too happy!" + +She drifted again into a stupor,--and Cicely, her whole soul +awakened by these broken words into a white heat of wrath and desire +for vengeance, left the room with sufficient information to set the +whole village in an uproar. Oliver Leach! In less than four-and- +twenty hours, the news was all over the place. The spreading wave of +indignation soon rose to an overwhelming high tide, and had Leach +shown himself anywhere in or near the village he would have stood an +uncommonly good chance of being first horsewhipped, and then +'ducked' in the river by an excited crowd. Oliver Leach! The hated, +petty upstart who had ground down the Abbot's Manor tenantry to the +very last penny that could be wrested from them!--who had destroyed +old cherished land-marks, and made ugly havoc in many once fair +woodland places in order to put money in his own pocket,--even he, +so long an object of aversion among them, was the would-be murderer +of the last descendant of the Vancourts! The villagers talked of +nothing else,--quiet and God-fearing rustics as they were, they had +no patience with treachery, meanness and cowardice, and were the +last kind of people in the world to hold their peace on a matter of +wickedness or injustice, merely because Leach was in the employ of +several neighbouring land-owners, including Sir Morton Pippitt. +Murmurs and threats ran from mouth to mouth, and Walden when he +heard of it, said nothing for, or against, their clamour for +revenge. The rage and sorrow of his own soul were greater than the +wrath of combined hundreds,--and his feeling was all the more deep +and terrible because it found no expression in words. The knowledge +that such a low and vile creature as Oliver Leach had been the +cause, and possibly the intentional cause of Maryllia's grievous +suffering and injury, moved him to realise for the first time in his +life what it was to be conscious of a criminal impulse. He himself +longed to kill the wretch who had brought such destruction on a +woman's beauty and happiness!--and it was with a curious sort of +satisfaction that he found himself called upon in the ordinary +course of things to read at evening service during the first week in +January, the Twenty-eighth Psalm, wherein David beseeches God to +punish the ungodly. + + "Reward them according to their deeds, and according to the + wickedness of their own inventions! + + "Recompense them after the work of their hands: pay them + that they have deserved!" + +Such demands for the punishment of one's enemies may not be +'Christian,' but they are Scriptural, and as such, John felt himself +justified in pronouncing them with peculiar emphasis and fervour. + +Meanwhile, by slow degrees, the 'imminent peril' passed, and +Maryllia came back to her conscious self,--a self that was tortured +in every nerve by pain,--but, with the return of her senses came +also her natural sweetness and gentleness, which now took the form +of a touching patience, very sad, yet very beautiful to see. The +first little gleam of gladness in her eyea awoke for Cicely,--to +whom, as soon as she recognised her, she put up her lips to be +kissed. Her accident had not disfigured her,--the fair face had been +spared, though it was white and drawn with anguish. But she could +not move her limbs,--and when she had proved this for herself, she +lay very still, thinking quietly, with a dream-like wonder and +sorrow in her blue eyes, like the wistfulness in the eyes of a +wounded animal that knows not why it should be made to suffer. +Docile to her nurses, and grateful for every little service, she +remained for some days in a sort of waking reverie, holding Cicely's +hand often, and asking her an occasional question about the house, +the gardens and the village. And January was nearly at an end, when +she began at last to talk connectedly and to enquire closely as to +her own actual condition. + +"Am I going to die, Cicely?" she asked one morning--"You will tell +me the truth, dear, won't you? I would rather know." + +Cicely choked back her tears, and smiled bravely. + +"No, darling, no! You are better,--but--but you will be a long time +ill!" + +Maryllia looked at her searchingly, and sighed a little. + +"What have they done with Cleo?" she murmured. + +"Cleo is all right,"--said Cicely--"She was badly hurt, but Bennett +knows how you love her, and he is doing all he can for her. She will +never hunt again, I'm afraid!" + +"Nor shall I!" and Maryllia sighed again, and closed her eyes to +hide the tears that welled up in them. + +There was a dark presentiment in her mind,--a heavy foreboding to +which she would not give utterance before Cicely, lest it should +grieve her. But the next day, when Dr. Forsyth paid her his usual +visit, and said in his usual cheery way that all was 'going on +well'--she startled him by requesting to speak to him alone, without +anyone else in the room, not even the attendant nurse. + +"It is only a little question I want to ask!" she said with the +faint reflex of her old bright smile on her face--"And I'm sure +you'll answer it!" + +'Jimmy' Forsyth hesitated. He felt desperately uncomfortable. He +instinctively knew what her question would be,--a question to which +there was only one miserable answer. But her grave pleading glance +was not to be resisted,--so, making the best of a bad business, he +cleared the room, shut the door, and remained in earnest +conversation with his patient for half-an-hour. And at the end of +that time, he went out, with tears in his keen eyes, and a +suspicious cough catching his throat, as he strode away from the +Manor through the leafless avenues, and heard the branches of the +trees rattling like prison chains in an angry winter's wind. + +The worst was said,--and when it was once said, it was soon known. +Maryllia was not to die--not yet. Fate had willed it otherwise. But +she was to be a cripple for life. That was her doom. Never again +would her little feet go tripping through the rose gardens and walks +of her beloved home,--never would her dainty form be borne, a +weightless burden, by 'Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt' through the +flowering woods of spring,--from henceforth she would have to be +carried by others up and down, to and fro, a maimed and helpless +creature, with all the physical and healthful joys of living cut +away from her at one cruel blow! And yet--it was very strange!--she +herself was not stricken with any particular horror or despair at +her destiny. When, after the doctor had left, Cicely came in, +trembling and afraid,--Maryllia smiled at her with quite a sweet +placidity. + +"I know all about myself now,"--she said, quietly--"I'm sorry in a +way,--because I shall be so useless. But--I have escaped Roxmouth +for good this time!" + +"Oh my darling!" wept Cicely--"Oh my dear, beautiful Maryllia! If it +were only me instead of you!" + +Maryllia drew the dark head down on the pillow beside her. + +"Nonsense! Why should it have been you!" she said, cheerfully--"You +will be a delight to the world with your voice, Cicely,--whereas I +am nothing, and never have been anything. I shall not be missed---" + +Her voice faltered a moment, as the thought of John Walden suddenly +crossed her mind. He would perhaps--only perhaps--miss her! Anon, a +braver and purely unselfish emotion moved her soul, and she began to +be almost glad that she was, as she said to herself, 'laid aside.' + +"For now,"--she mused--"they can say nothing at all about him at MY +expense. Even Roxmouth's tongue must stop calumniating me,--for +though many people are very heartless, they do draw the line at +slandering a crippled woman! It's all for the best,--I'm sure it's +all for the best!" + +And a serene contentment took possession of her,--a marvellous peace +that brought healing in its train, for with the earliest days of +February, when the first snowdrops were beginning to make their +white way through the dark earth, she was able to be moved from her +bed, and carried down to the morning room, where, lying on her +couch, near a sparkling fire, with a bunch of early flowering +aconites opening their golden eyes in a vase beside her, she looked +almost as if she were getting well enough soon to rise and walk +again. She was bright and calm, and quickly managed to impart her +own brightness and calmness to others. She summoned all the servants +of the household to her in turn, and spoke to them so kindly, and +thanked them so sweetly for the trouble and care they had taken and +were taking on her behalf that they could scarcely hide their tears. +As for poor Mrs. Spruce, who had nervously hesitated to approach her +for fear of breaking down in her presence, she no sooner made her +appearance than Maryllia stretched out her arms like a child, with a +smile on her face. + +"Come and kiss me, Spruce!" she said, almost playfully--"and don't +cry! I'm not crying for myself, you see, and I don't want anyone +else to cry for me. You'll help to make the cripple-time pleasant, +won't you?--yes, of course you will!--and I can do the housekeeping +just the same as ever--nothing need alter that. Only instead of +running about all over the place, and getting in the way, I shall +have to keep still,--and you will always know where to find me. +That's something of an advantage, Spruce! And you'll talk to me!--oh +yes!--trust you for talking, you dear thing!--and I shall know just +as much about everybody as I want to,--there Spruce!--you WILL cry!- +-so run away just now, and come back presently when you feel better- +-and braver!" Whereat Mrs. Spruce had kissed her on the cheek at +her own request, and had caught her little hand and kissed that, and +had then hurried out of the room before her rising sobs could break +out, as they did, into rebellious blubbering. + +"Which the Lord Almighty's ways are 'ard to bear!" she wailed. "An' +that they're past findin' out, no sensible person will contradict, +for why Miss Maryllia should be laid on 'er back an' me left to +stan' upright is a mystery Gospel itself can't clear! An' if I could +onny see Passon Walden, I'd ask 'im what it all means, for if +anybody knows it he will,--but he won't see no one, an' Dr. Forsyth +says best not trouble 'im, so there I am all at sea without a life- +belt, which Spruce bein' 'arder of 'earin' than ever, don't +understand nohow nor never will. But if there's no way out of all +this trouble, the Lord Himself ain't as wise as I took 'im for, for +didn't He say to a man what 'ad crutches in the Testymen 'Arise an' +walk'?--an' why shouldn't He say 'Arise an' walk' to Miss Maryllia? +I do 'ope I'm not sinful, but I'm fair mazed when I see the Lord +'oldin' off 'is hand as 'twere, an' not doin' the right thing as 'e +should do!" + +Thus Mrs. Spruce argued, and it is to be feared that 'not doing the +right thing' was rather generally attributed to 'the Lord,' by the +good folk of St. Rest at that immediate period. Most of them were +thirsting to try a little 'right' on their own account as concerned +Oliver Leach. For the whole story was now known,--though had +Maryllia not told it quite involuntarily in a state of semi- +consciousness, she would never have betrayed the identity of her +cowardly assailant. But finding that she had, unknowingly to +herself, related the incident as it happened, there was nothing to +be done on her part, except to entreat that Leach might be allowed +to go unpunished. This, however, was a form of ultra-Christianity +which did not in any way commend itself to the villagers of St. +Rest. They were on the watch for him day and night,--scouts +traversed the high road to Riversford from east to west, from north +to south in the hope of meeting him driving along to the town as +usual on his estate agency business, but not a sign of him had been +seen since the evening of the fox-hunt, when Maryllia's body had +been found in Farmer's Thorpe's field. Then, one of Adam Frost's +eldest boys had noticed him talking to the Reverend Putwood Leveson +at the entrance of the park surrounding Badsworth Hall, but since +that time he had not shown himself, and enquiries at his cottage +failed to elicit other information than that he was 'not at home.' +The people generally suspected him of being 'in hiding,' and they +were not far wrong. + +One day, soon after her first move from her bedroom to the morning +room, and when she had grown in part accustomed to being carried up +and down, Maryllia suddenly expressed a wish to hear the village +choir. + +"I should like the children to come and sing to me,"--she said to +Cicely--"You remember the hymn they sang on that one Sunday I went +to church last summer--'The Lord is my Shepherd'? You sang it with +them, Cicely,--and it was so very sweet! Couldn't they come up here +to the Manor and sing it to me again?" + +"Of course they could if you wish it, darling!" said Cicely, +blinking away the tears that were only too ready to fall at every +gentle request proffered by her friend--"And I'm sure they will! +I'll go now and tell Miss Eden you want them." + +"Yes, do!" said Maryllia, eagerly--"And, Cicely,--wait a minute! +Have you seen Mr. Walden at all since I've been ill?" + +"No,"--replied Cicely, quietly--"He has not been very well himself, +so Dr. Forsyth says,--and he has not been about much except to +perform service on Sundays, and to visit his sick parishioners---" + +"Well, I am a sick parishioner!" said Maryllia--"Why should he leave +me out?" + +Cicely looked at her very tenderly. + +"I don't think he has left you out, darling! I fancy he has thought +of you a great deal. He has sent to enquire after you every day." + +Maryllia was silent for a minute. Then, with her own quaint little +air of authority and decision, she said-- + +"Well!--I want to see him now. In fact, I must see him,--not only as +a friend, but as a clergyman. Because you know I may not live very +long---" + +"Maryllia!" cried Cicely, passionately--"Don't say that!" + +"I won't, if you don't like it!" and Maryllia smiled up at her from +her pillows--"But I think I should like to speak to Mr. Walden. So, +as you will be passing the rectory on your way to fetch Miss Eden +and the children, will you go in and ask him if he will come up and +see me this afternoon?" + +"I will!" And Cicely ran out of the room with a sense of sudden, +inexplicable excitement which she could scarcely conceal. Quickly +putting on her hat and cloak, she almost flew down the Manor avenue, +regardless of the fact that it was raining dismally, and only +noticing that there was a scent of violets in the air, and one or +two glimmerings of yellow crocus peeping like golden spears through +the wet mould. Arriving at the rectory, she forgot that she had not +seen Walden at all since Maryllia's accident, and scarcely waiting +for the maid Hester to announce her, she hastened into his study +with startling suddenness. Springing from his chair, he confronted +her with wild imploring eyes, and a face from which ever vestige of +colour had fled. + +"What is it?" he muttered faintly--"My God spare me!--she--she is +not dead?" + +"No, no!" cried Cicely, smitten to the heart with self-reproach at +her own unthinking impetuosity--"No--no--NO! Oh what an utter idiot +I am! Oh, Mr. Walden, I didn't think--I didn't know--oh, dear Mr. +Walden, I'm so sorry I have alarmed you--do, do forgive me!---" And +she began to cry bitterly. + +He looked at her vaguely for a moment,--anon his face relaxed, and +his eyes softened. Advancing to her, he took both her hands and +pressed them. + +"Poor little Cicely!" he said, kindly--"So it is you, is it? Poor +dear little singer!--you have had so much anxiety--and I--" He broke +off and turned his head away. Then, after a pause, he resumed--"It's +all right, Cicely! You--you startled me just a little--I scarcely +knew you! You look so worn out, dear child, and no wonder! What can +I do to cheer you? Is she--is she still going on well?" + +Cicely raised her dark, tear-wet eyes to his in a kind of wistful +wonder. Then she suddenly stooped and kissed the hands that held her +own. + +"Homage to a brave man!" she said, impulsively--"You ARE brave!-- +don't contradict me, because I won't stand it!" She detached her +hands from his and tried to laugh. "Is she going on well, you ask? +Yes,--as well as she can. But--you know she will be a cripple-- +always?" + +Walden bent his head sadly. + +"I know!" + +"And it's all through those terrible 'Five Sister' beeches!" she +went on--"If Oliver Leach had been allowed to cut them down, +Maryllia would never have gone out to save them that morning, or +given the wretched man his dismissal. And he wouldn't have cursed +her, or tried to murder her!" + +Walden shuddered a little. + +"Then it is quite as much my fault as anybody else's, Cicely,"--he +said, wearily--"For I had something to do with the saving of the old +trees. At any rate, I did not exercise my authority as I might have +done to pacify the villagers, when their destruction was threatened. +I feel somehow that I my share of blame in the disaster." + +"Nonsense!" snapped out Cicely, sharply, almost angrily--"Why should +you take the sins of everyone in the parish on. your shoulders? +Broad as they are, you can draw the line somewhere surely! You might +as well blame poor old Josey Letherbarrow. He was the one who +persuaded Maryllia to save the Five Sisters,--and if you were to +tell him that all the trouble had come through him, he'd die! Poor +old dear!" She laughed a trifle hysterically. "It's nobody's fault, +I suppose. It's destiny." + +John sighed heavily. + +"Of course," went on Cicely desperately--"Maryllia may live a long +time,--or she may not. She thinks not. And because she thinks not, +she wants to see you." + +He started nervously. + +"To see ME?" + +"Yes. It's perfectly natural, isn't it? Isn't it your business to +visit the sick,--and---" He interrupted her by a quick gesture. + +"Not dying,"--he said--"I will not have the word used! She is not +dying--she will not die! She shall not!" + +His eyes flashed--he looked all at once like an inspired apostle +with the gift of life in his hand. Cicely watched him with a sudden +sense of awe. + +"If you say so,"--she faltered slowly--"perhaps she will not. Go and +see her!" + +"To-day?" + +"Yes,--this afternoon. She has asked for the school children to come +and sing to her,--I shall try to get them about four. If you come at +five, she will be able to see you--alone." + +A silence fell between them. + +"I will come!" said John, at last. + +"That's right! Good-bye till then!" + +And with a glance more expressive than words, Cicely went. + +Left to himself, John threw open his study windows, and stepping out +into his garden all wet with rain, made his way to its warmest +corner, where, notwithstanding inclement weather, the loveliest +sweet violets were thickly blossoming under his glass frames. He +began to gather them carefully, and massed them together in bunches +of deep purple and creamy white,--while Bainton, working at a little +distance off, looked up in surprise and gratification at the sight +of him. For it was many weary weeks since 'Passon' had taken any +interest in his 'forced blooms.' Nebbie, having got thoroughly +draggled and muddy by jumping wildly after his master through an +exceedingly wet tangle of ivy, sat demurely watching him, as the +little heap of delicately scented blossoms increased. + +"The violets are doing wonderfully well this year, Bainton,"--he +presently said, with his old kind smile, addressing his gardener--"I +am taking these to Miss Vancourt this afternoon." + +Bainton lifted his cap respectfully. + +"God bless her!" he said,--"An' you too, Passon!" + +And John, holding the fragrant bunch of small sweet flowers tenderly +in his hand, answered gently-- + +"Thank you, my friend! I hope He will!" + + + + +XXXI + + +The rain cleared off in the afternoon and a bright glint of sunshine +shone through the slowly dispersing clouds, enabling the children of +the village choir to put on their best frocks and hats for the +important function to which Cicely had summoned them. There was +great excitement among these little people. That they should be +specially asked to sing to Miss Vancourt was to them an unexpected +and unprecedented honour, and filled them with speechless delight +and pride. They were all very shy and nervous, however, and it was +with quite a trembling awe that they scraped their feet on the +polished oak floors of the Manor, and dragged them hesitatingly and +timidly along into the morning room where Maryllia lay peacefully +resting, and awaiting their approach. Her nurses had attired her +freshly and becomingly, and had wrapped her in soft pale rose +cashmere with delicate ribbons of the same hue tying it about her, +while her lovely hair, loosely knotted on the top of her head, was +caught together by a comb edged with pink coral which gave just the +contrasting touch of colour to the gold-brown curls. She turned a +smiling happy face on the children as they entered, and to Miss Eden +and her young assistant, Susie Prescott, she held out her hand. + +"It is so good of you to humour me in my fancy!" she said; "I loved +the little hymn you all sang on the Sunday I came to church with my +friends--don't you remember?--and I want to hear it again. I came in +late to service that day, didn't I?--yes!--it was so wrong of me! +But I should never do it again if I had the chance. Unfortunately we +are always sorry for our wrong-doings too late!" She smiled again, +and in answer to murmured words of sympathy from Miss Eden, and the +sight of tears in the eyes of Susie Prescott, made haste to say--"Oh +no!--I'm not in any pain just now. You need not think that. I am +just helpless--that's all. But I've got all my reasoning faculties +back, thank God!--and my sight has been spared. I can read and +write, and enjoy music,--so you see how many blessings are still +left to me! Will you ask the children to begin now, please? There is +not a piano in this room,--but Cicely will play the accompaniment on +the old spinet--it's quite in tune. And she will sing with you." + +In another moment they were all grouped round the ancient instrument +of Charles the Second's day, and Cicely, keeping her hands well +pressed on the jingling ivory keys, managed to evoke from them +something like a faint, far-off organ-like sound. Falteringly at +first, and then more clearly and steadily, as Cicely's full round +voice assisted them, the children sang-- + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. + He maketh me down to lie + In pleasant fields where the lilies grow, + And the river runneth by." + +Maryllia listened, watching them. The declining sunlight, pale as it +was, shed luminance upon the awkward stumpy boys, and bashfully +shrinking girls, as with round, affectionate eyes fixed upon her, +they went on tunefully-- + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; He feedeth me, + In the depth of a desert land, + And, lest I should in the darkness slip, + He holdeth me by the hand. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want, + My mind on Him is stayed, + And though through the Valley of Death I walk, + I shall not be afraid!" + +Here, something like a sob interrupted the melody. Some one in the +little choir broke down,--but Cicely covered the break with a tender +chord, and the young voices rose above it. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; O Shepherd sweet, + Leave me not here to stray, + But guide me safe to Thy heavenly fold, + And keep me there, I pray!" + +With each verse, the harmony grew sweeter and more solemn, till +Maryllia, lying back on her pillows with closed eyes through which +the tears would creep despite herself, began to feel earth very far +away and heaven very near. At the 'Amen,' she said: + +"Thank you! That was beautiful! Do you mind singing the third verse +over again?" + +They obeyed, looking at Cicely for the lead. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want; + My mind on Him is stayed, + And though through the Valley of Death I walk, + I shall not be afraid!" + +There was a silence. + +"Now," breathed Cicely softly--"now the Amen!" + +Full and grave came the solemn chord and the young fresh voices with +it,-- + + "A--men!" And then Cicely went up to Maryllia and bent over +her. + +"Are you pleased, dearest?" + +She was very quiet. There were tears in her eyes, but at the +question, she smiled. + +"Very pleased! And very happy! Take the children away now and give +them tea. And thank them all for me,--say I will see them again some +day when I am stronger--when I do not feel inclined to cry quite so +easily!" + +In a few minutes all the little scuffling shuffling feet had made +their way out of the room, and Maryllia was left to herself in the +deepening twilight,--a twilight illumined brightly every now and +again by the leaping flame of a sparkling log fire. Suddenly the +door which had just been closed after the children, gently opened +again, and Cicely entering, said in rather a tremulous voice-- + +"Mr. Walden is here, Maryllia." + +Whereat she quickly disappeared. + +Maryllia turned her head round on her pillows and watched John's +tall straight figure slowly approaching. A delicate, Spring-like +odour floated to her as he came, and she saw that he carried a bunch +of violets. Then she held out her hand. + +"I am very glad to see you, Mr. Walden!" + +He tried to speak, but could not. Without a word he laid the violets +gently down on the silk coverlet of her couch. She took them up at +once and kissed them. + +"How sweet they are!" she murmured--"The first I have had given to +me this year!" + +She smiled up at him gratefully, and pointed to a chair close beside +her. + +"Will you sit near me?" she said--"And then we can talk!" + +Silently he obeyed. To see her lying there so quietly resigned and +helpless, nearly unmanned him, but he did brave battle with his own +emotions. He took her little offered hand and gently kissed it. If +to touch its soft smooth whiteness sent fire through his veins, +there was no sign of feeling in his face. He was grave and strangely +impassive. + +"I am grieved to see you like this---" he began. + +"Yes, I am sure you are!" she quickly interrupted him--"But please +do not talk about it just now! I want to forget my poor crippled +body altogether for a little while. I've had so much bother with it +lately! I want to talk to you about my soul. That's not crippled. +And you can tell me just what it is and what I am to do with it." + +He gazed at her in a kind of bewildered wonder. + +"Your soul!"--he murmured, + +"Yes." And a shadow of sad and wistful thought darkened her +features--"You see I may not live very long,--and I ought to be +properly prepared in case I die. I know you will explain everything +that is difficult to me,--because you seem to be sure of your faith. +You remember your sermon on the soul, when I came to church just +that once?" + +He bent his head. He could find no words with which to interrupt +her. + +"Well, I have often thought of it since,--and I have longed--oh, so +much!--to make a confession to you! But may I ask you one or two +questions first?" + +His dry lips moved--and he whispered, rather than spoke-- + +"You may! But are you not distressing yourself about matters which-- +which perhaps--could wait---?" + +Her blue eyes regarded him with a wonderful courage. + +"Dear Mr. Walden, I don't think I ought to wait,"--she said, very +earnestly--"Because really no one has ever done anything for me in a +religious sense,--and if I AM to die, you are the only person in the +world who can help me." + +He tried to rouse his wandering, ebbing energies. + +"I will do my best,"--he said, slowly--"My best, I mean, to answer +your questions." + +"You will?--As a clergyman, as a friend and an honest man?--yes, I +felt sure you would!" And she spoke with almost passionate +eagerness--"I will put you through your catechism, and you shall, if +you like, put me through mine! Now to begin with,--though it seems a +strange thing to ask a clergyman-do you really believe in God?" + +He started,--wakened from his trance of mind by sheer amazement. + +"Do I really believe in God? With all my soul, with all my heart, I +believe in Him!" + +"Many clergymen don't,"--said Maryllia, gravely studying his face,-- +"That is why I asked. You mustn't mind! You see I have met a great +many Churchmen who preach what they do not practise, and it has +rather worried me. Because, of course, if they really believed in +God they would he careful not to do things which their faith forbids +them to do." + +He was silent. + +"My next question is just as audacious as my first,"--she went on +after a pause--"It is this--do you believe in Christ?" + +He rose from his chair and stood tenderly looking down upon her. His +old authoritative energy inspired him,--he had now recovered himself +sufficiently to be able to trample down his own clamorous personal +emotions for the time and to think only of his spiritual duty. + +"I believe in Him as the one Divine Man ever born!" he said. + +"Is that quite sufficient for orthodoxy?" And she looked up at him +with a half smile. + +"Perhaps not! But I fear orthodoxy and I are scarcely the best of +friends!" he replied--"Must I really tell you my own private form of +belief?" + +"Ah yes!--please do so!" she answered gently--"It will help me so +much!" + +He paused a moment. Then he said-- + +"I believe this,--that Christ was born into the world as a Sign and +Symbol of the life, death and destined immortality of each +individual human soul. Into the mystery of His birth I do not +presume to penetrate. But I see Him as He lived,--the embodiment of +Truth--crucified! I see Him dead,--rising from the grave to take +upon Himself eternal life. I accept Him as the true manifestation of +the possible Divine in Man--for no man before or after Him has had +such influence upon the human race. And I am convinced that the +faithful following of His Gospel ensures peace in this world, and +joy in the world to come!" + +He paused, and drew nearer to her. "Will that suffice you?" + +Her eyes were turned away from his, but he could see a sparkle as of +dew on her lashes. + +"Sit down by me again,"--she said in a low uncertain voice--"You do +believe!--and now that I know this for certain, I can make my +confession to you." + +He resumed his seat beside her couch. + +"Surely you have nothing to confess--" he said, gently. + +"Why yes, I have!" she declared--"I've not been good, you know!" + +He smiled. + +"Have you not?" But his voice trembled a little--"Well! I suppose I +must believe you--but it will be difficult!" + +She looked down at the bunch of violets she held, and touched the +purple and white blossoms tenderly. + +"I don't mean,"--she continued softly--"that I have been downright +wicked in a criminal sense. Oh no!--I haven't anything to confess +that way! What I mean is that I haven't been religious. Now please +let me go straight on and explain--will you?" + +He made a slight gesture of assent. + +"Well now, to begin with," she said--"of course when I was quite a +child, I was taught to say prayers, and I was taken to church on +Sundays just in the usual way. But I never could quite believe there +was anyone to listen to my prayers, and going to church bored me and +made me dreadfully sleepy. All the clergymen seemed to talk and +preach in exactly the same way, and they all spoke in the same sing- +song voice. I found it very dull and monotonous. I was told that God +lived up in the sky, and that He loved me very much and would take +care of me always,--but I never could make out why, if God loved me, +He should not tell me so Himself, without the help of a clergyman. +Because then I should have understood things better. I daresay it +was a very wicked idea,--but it used to come into my head like that, +and I couldn't help it. Then, everything in my life as a child came +to an end with a great crash as it were, when my father was killed. +I adored my father! He was always kind to me,--always tender!--he +was the only man in the world that ever loved me! And when he was +taken away suddenly from me like that, and I was told it was God's +will, I hated God! I did really! You know unless you are a born +angel, it is natural to hate anyone who takes away the dearest and +most beloved thing you have to live for, isn't it?" + +John turned his head a little away, and looked straight before him +into the glowing embers of the fire. A deep sigh involuntarily +escaped him. + +"I suppose it is natural!" he said, slowly--"But we must fight +against nature. We must believe that God knows best!" + +Her eyes, blue as flax-flowers, turned towards him wistfully. + +"You believe that?" she asked--"You are sure that God means +everything for the best, even when He makes you suffer for no fault +of your own?" + +At this his heart was sorely troubled within him, but he answered +quietly and firmly-- + +"Yes! I am sure that God means everything for the best, even when He +makes me suffer for no fault of my own!" + +His voice, always soft and mellow, dropped to a tenderer cadence, +as,--like a true servant of the Master he served,--he faithfully +asserted his belief, that even in personal sorrow, the Divine will +is always a Divine blessing. + +A pause of silence ensued. Then Maryllia went on somewhat +hesitatingly-- + +"Well, I was wicked, you see! I could NOT believe that God meant it +for the best in killing my father! And I know that my father himself +never could understand that God was at all good in allowing my +mother to die when I was born. So that I was quite set against God, +when, after my father's death, Uncle Fred and his wife came and took +me away to live with them, and adopted me as their daughter. And +living with them, and being always surrounded by the society they +entertained, made me forget religion altogether. They never went to +church,--neither did any of the people they called their friends. +Indeed nobody I ever met in all the 'sets' of London, or Paris, or +New York ever seemed to think of God or a future life at all. Some +of them went in for what they called 'spiritualism' and deceived +each other in the most terrible way! I never heard people tell so +many dreadful lies! They used to joke about it afterwards. But no +one ever seemed to think that religion,--real religion--real +Christianity--was at all necessary or worth talking about. They +called it an 'exploded myth.' When I met Cicely Bourne I found that +SHE believed in it. And I was quite surprised! Because she had such +a hard life, and she had always been so cruelly treated, that I +wondered how she could believe in anything. But she told me that +when she knew she had a voice and a gift for music, she used to pray +that an angel might be sent to help her,--and when I asked her--'Did +the angel come?' she said that God had sent ME as the angel! Of +course it wasn't true, but it was very sweet of her to say it!" + +She paused. Walden was quite silent. Leaning his elbow on the raised +head of her couch, he shaded his brow with one hand, thus partially +covering his eyes from the glow of the fire. There were tears in +those eyes, and he was afraid she would see them. + +"Cicely was always so brave and contented,"--she presently +continued--"And as I learned to know more of her I began to wonder +if really after all, her religion helped her? And then there came a +time of great worry and trouble for me--and--I came home here to try +and find peace and rest--and I met YOU!" + +He moved restlessly, but said nothing. + +"To meet you was an event in my life!" she said, turning. towards +him a little, and laying her hand timidly on his coat sleeve--"It +was really!" + +He looked at her,--and a wave of warmth passed over his face. + +"Was it?" he murmured. + +"Of course it was!" she declared,--and almost she laughed--"You +won't understand me, I daresay!--but to meet you. for the first time +is a kind of event to most people! They begin to think about you,-- +they can't help it! You are so different from the ordinary sort of +clergyman,--I don't know how or why,--but you are!" + +He smiled a trifle sadly. + +"Talk of yourself, not of me,"--he said, uneasily. + +"Yes, but I cannot very well talk of myself now without bringing you +into it,"--she insisted,--"And you must let me tell my story in my +own way!" + +He shaded his eyes again from the firelight, and listened. + +"After I met you that morning," she went on--"I heard many things +about you in the village. Everyone seemed to love you!--yes, even +the tiniest children! The poor people, the old and the sick, all +seemed to trust you as their truest and best friend! And when I knew +all this I began to think very earnestly about the religious faith +which seemed to make you what you are. I didn't go to church to hear +you preach--you know that!--I only went once--and I was late--you +remember?--So it has not been anything you have said in the pulpit +that has changed me so much. It is just YOU, yourself! It is because +you live your life as you do that I want to learn to live the rest +of mine just a little bit like it, even though I am crippled and +more or less useless. You will teach me, won't you? I want to have +your faith--your goodness---" + +He interrupted her. + +"Do not call me good!" he said, faintly--"I cannot bear it--I +cannot!" + +She looked at him, and there were tears in her eyes. + +"I'm afraid you will have to bear it!" she said, softly--"For you +ARE good!--you have always been good to ME! And I do honestly +believe that God means everything for the best as you say, because +now I am a cripple, I have escaped once and for all from the +marriage my aunt was trying to force me into with Lord Roxmouth. I +thank God every minute of my life for that!" + +"You never loved him?" + +John's voice was very low and tremulous as he asked this question. + +"Never!" she answered, in the same low tone. "How could you think +it?" + +"I did not know--I was not quite sure---" he murmured. + +"No, I never loved him!" she said, earnestly--"I always feared and +hated him! And he did not love me,--he only cared for the money my +aunt would have left me had I married him. But I have always wanted +to be loved for myself--and this has been my great trouble. If +anyone had ever really cared for me, I think it would have made me +good and wise and full of trust in God--I should have been a much +better woman than I am--I am sure I should! People say that the love +I want is only found in poems and story books, and that my fancies +are quite ridiculous. Perhaps they are. But I can't help it. I am +just myself and no other!" She smiled a little--then went on--"Lord +Roxmouth has a great social position,--but, to my mind, he has +degraded it. I could not have married a man for whom I had no +respect. You see I can talk quite easily about all this because it +is past. For of course now I am a cripple, the very idea of marriage +for me is all over. And I am really very glad it is so. No one can +spread calumnies about me, or compromise my name any more. And even +the harm Lord Roxmouth meant to try and do to YOU, has been stopped. +So this time God HAS answered my prayers." + +John looked up suddenly. + +"Did you pray---?" he began in a choked voice-then checked himself, +and said quickly--"Dear child, I do not think Lord Roxmouth could +have ever done me any harm!" + +"Ah, you don't know him as I do!" and she sighed--"He stops at +nothing. He will employ any base tool, any mean spy, to gain his own +immediate purposes. And--and--" she hesitated--"you know I wrote to +you about it---he saw us in the picture gallery---" + +"Well!" said John, and his eyes kindled into a sudden light and +fire--"What if he did?" + +"You were telling me how much you disliked seeing women smoke"--she +faltered--"And--and--you spoke of Psyche,--you remember---" + +"I remember!" And John grew bolder and more resolute in spirit as he +saw the soft rose flush on her cheeks and listened to the dulcet +tremor of her voice--"I shall never forget!" + +"And he thought--he thought---" here her words sank almost to a +whisper--"that I--that you---" + +He turned suddenly and looked down upon her where she lay. Their +eyes met,--and in that one glance, love flashed a whole unwritten +history. Stooping over her, he caught her little hands in his own, +and pressed them against his heart with strong and passionate +tenderness. + +"If he thought I loved you,"--he said--"he was right! I loved you +then--I love you now!--I shall love you for ever--till death, and +beyond it! My darling, my darling! You know I love you!" + +A half sob, a little smile answered him,--and then soft, broken +words. + +"Yes--I know!--I always knew!" + +He folded his arms about her, and drew her into an embrace from +which he wildly thought not Death itself should tear her. + +"And you care?" he whispered. + +"I care so much that I care for nothing else!" she said--then, all +suddenly she broke down and began to weep pitifully, clinging to him +and murmuring the grief she had till now so bravely restrained--"But +it is all too late!" she sobbed--"Oh my dearest, you love me,--and I +love you,--ah!--you will never know how much!--but it is too late!-- +I can be of no use to you!--I can never be of use! I shall only be a +trouble to you,--a drag and a burden on your days!--oh John!--and a +little while ago I might have been your joy instead of your sorrow!" + +He held her to him more closely. + +"Hush, hush!" he said softly, soothing her as he would have soothed +a child,--and with mingled tenderness and reverence, he kissed the +sweet trembling lips, the wet eyes, the tear-stained cheeks--"Hush, +my little girl! You are all my joy in this world--can you not feel +that you are?" And he kissed her again and yet again. "And I am so +unworthy of you!--so old and worn and altogether unpleasing to a +woman--I am nothing! Yet you love me! How strange that seems!--how +wonderful!--for I have done nothing to deserve your love. And had +you been spared your health and strength, I should never have +spoken--never! I would not have clouded your sunny life with my +selfish shadow. No! I should have let you go on your way and have +kept silence to the end! For in all your vital brightness and beauty +I should never have dared to say I love you, Maryllia!" + +At this she checked her sobs, and looked up at him in vague +amazement. + +"You would never have spoken?" + +"Never!" + +"You would have let me live on here, quite close to you, seeing you +every day, perhaps, without a word of the love in your heart?" + +He kissed her, half-smiling. + +"I think I should!" + +"Then"--said Maryllia, with grave sweetness--"I know that God does +mean everything for the best--and I thank Him for having made me a +cripple! Because if my trouble has warmed your heart,--your cold, +cold heart, John!"--and she smiled at him through her tears--"and +has made you say you love me, then it is the most blessed and +beautiful trouble I could possibly have, and has brought me the +greatest happiness of my life! I am glad of it and proud of it,--I +glory in it! For I would rather know that you love me than be the +straightest, brightest, loveliest woman in the world! I would rather +be here in your arms--so--" and she nestled close against him--"than +have all the riches that were ever counted!--and--listen, John!" +Here, with her clinging, caressing arms, she drew his head down +close to her breast--"Even if I have to die and leave you soon, I +shall know that all is right with my soul!--yes, dear, dear John!-- +because you will have taken away all its faults and made it +beautiful with your love!--and God will love it for love's sake, +almost as much as He must love you for your own, John!" + +There was only one way--there never has been more than one way--to +answer such tender words, and John took that way by silencing the +sweet lips that spoke them with a kiss in which the pent-up passion +of his soul was concentrated. The shadows of the winter gloaming +deepened;--the firelight died down to a mass of rosy embers;-and +when Cicely softly opened the door an hour later, the room was +almost dark. But the scent of violets was in the air--she heard soft +whisperings, and saw that two human beings at least, out of all a +seeking world, had found the secret of happiness. And she stole away +unseen, smiling, yet with glad tears in her eyes, and a little +unuttered song in her heart-- + + "If to love is the best of all things known, + We have gain'd the best in the world, mine own! + We have touch'd the summit of love--and live + God Himself has no more to give!" + + + + +XXXII + + +The prime of youth is said to be the only time of life when lovers +are supposed by poets and romancists to walk 'on air,' so as John +Walden was long past the age when men are called young, it is +difficult to determine the kind of buoyant element on which he trod +when he left the Manor that evening. Youth!--what were its vague +inchoate emotions, its trembling hesitations, its more or less +selfish jealousies, doubts and desires, compared to the strong, +glowing and tender passion which filled the heart of this man, so +long a solitary in the world, who now awaking to the consciousness +of love in its noblest, purest form, knew that from henceforth he +was no longer alone! A life,--delicate and half broken by cruel +destiny, hung on his for support, help and courage,--a soul, full of +sweetness and purity, clung to him for its hope of Heaven! The glad +blood quickened in his veins,--he was twice a man,--never had he +felt so proud, so powerful, and withal so young. Like the Psalmist +he could have said 'My days are renewed upon the earth'--and he +devoutly thanked God for the blessing and glory of the gift of love +which above all others makes existence sweet. + +"My darling!" he murmured, as he walked joyously along the little +distance stretching between the lodge gates of the Manor and his own +home--"She shall never miss one joy that I can give her! How +fortunate it is that I am tall and strong, for when the summer days +come I can lift her from her couch and carry her out into the garden +like a little child in my arms, and she will rest under the trees, +and perhaps gradually get accustomed to the loss of her own bright +vitality if I do my utmost best to be all life to her! I will fill +her days with varied occupations and try to make the time pass +sweetly,--she shall keep all her interests in the village--nothing +shall be done without her consent--ah yes!--I know I shall be able +to make her happier than she would be if left to bear her trouble +quite alone! If she were strong and well, I should be no fit partner +for her--but as it is--perhaps my love may comfort her, and my +unworthiness be forgiven!" + +Thus thinking, he arrived at his rectory, and entering, pushed open +the door of his study. There, somewhat to his surprise, he found Dr. +'Jimmy' Forsyth standing in a meditative attitude with his back to +the fire. + +"Hullo, Walden!" he said--"Here you are at last! I've been waiting +for you ever so long!" + +"Have you?" and John, smiling radiantly, threw off his hat, and +pushed back his grey-brown curls from his forehead--"I'm sorry! +Anything wrong?" Dr. 'Jimmy' shrugged his shoulders. + +"Nothing particular. Oliver Leach is dead,--that's all!" + +Walden started back. The smile passed from his face, for, +remembering the scarcely veiled threats of his parishioners, he +began to fear lest they should have taken some unlawful vengeance on +the object of their hatred. + +"Dead!" he echoed amazedly--"Surely no one--no one has killed him?" + +"Not a bit of it!" said Forsyth, complacently--"It just happened!" + +"How?" + +"Well, it appears that the rascal has been lying low for a +considerable time in the house of our reverend friend, Putwood +Leveson. That noble soul has been playing 'sanctuary' to him, and no +doubt warned him of the very warm feeling with which the villagers +of St. Rest regarded him. He has been maturing certain plans, and +waiting till an opportunity should arise for him to get away to +Riversford, where apparently he intended to take up his future +abode, Mordaunt Appleby the brewer having offered him a situation as +brewery accountant. The opportunity occurred last night, so I hear. +He managed to get off with his luggage in a trap, and duly arrived +at the Crown Inn. There he was set upon in the taproom by certain +old friends and gambling associates, who accused him of wilfully +attempting to injure Miss Vancourt. He denied it. Thereupon they +challenged him to drink ten glasses of raw whiskey, one on top of +another, to prove his innocence. It was a base and brutal business, +but he accepted the challenge. At the eighth glass he fell down +unconscious. His companions thought he was merely drunk--but--as it +turned out--he was dead." [Footnote: This incident happened lately +in a village in the south of England.] + +Walden heard in silence. + +"It's horrible!" he said at last--"Yet--I cannot say sorry! I +suppose as a Christian minister I ought to be,--but I'm not! I only +hope none of my people were concerned in the matter?" + +"You may be quite easy on that score,"--replied Forsyth--"Of course +there will be an inquest, and a severe reproof will be administered +to the men who challenged him,--but there the affair will end. I +really don't think we need grieve ourselves unduly over the exit of +one scoundrel from a world already overburdened with his species." +With that, he turned and poked the fire into a brighter blaze. "Let +us talk of something else"--he said. "I called in to tell you that +Santori is in London, and that I have taken the responsibility upon +myself of sending for him to see Miss Vancourt." + +Walden was instantly all earnest attention. + +"Who is Santori?" he asked. + +"Santori," replied Forsyth, "is a great Italian, whose scientific +researches into medicine and surgery have won him the honour of all +nations, save and except the British. We are very insular, my dear +Walden!--we never will tolerate the 'furriner' even if he brings us +health and healing in his hand! Santori is a medical 'furriner,' +therefore he is generally despised by the English medical +profession. But I'm a Scotsman--I've no prejudices except my own!" +And he laughed--"And I acknowledge Santori as one of the greatest +men of the age. He is a scientist as well as a surgeon--and his +great 'speciality' is the spine and nerves. Now I have never quite +explained to you the nature of Miss Vancourt's injuries, and there +is no need even now to particularise them. The main point of her +case is that in the condition she is now, she must remain a cripple +for life,--and" here he hesitated,--"that life cannot, I fear, be a +very long one." + +Walden turned his head away for a moment. + +"Go on!" he said huskily. + +"At the same time," continued Dr. Forsyth, gently--"there are no +bones broken,--all the mischief is centred in damage to the spine. I +sent, as you know, for Wentworth Glynn, our best specialist in this +country, and he assured me there was no hope whatever of any change +for the better. Yesterday, I happened to see in the papers that +Santori had arrived in London for a few weeks, and, acting on a +sudden inspiration, I wrote him a letter at once, explaining the +whole case, and asking him to meet me in consultation. He has wired +an answer to-day, saying he will be here to-morrow." + +Walden's eyes were full of sorrowful pain and yearning. + +"Well!" he said, with a slight sigh--"And what then?" + +"What then?" responded Dr. 'Jimmy' cheerfully--"Why nothing,--except +that it will be more satisfactory to everyone concerned,--and to me +particularly--to have his opinion." + +There was a pause. John gazed down into the fire as though he saw a +whole world of mingled grief and joy reflected in its crimson glow. +Then, suddenly lifting his head, he looked his friend full in the +face. + +"Forsyth,"--he said--"I think I ought to tell you--you ought to +know--I am going to marry her!" + +Without a word, 'Jimmy' gripped his hand and pressed it hard. Then +he turned very abruptly, and walked up and down the little room. And +presently he drew out his glasses and polished them vigorously +though they were in no need of this process. + +"I thought you would!" he said, after a while--"Of course I saw how +the land lay! I knew you loved her---" + +"I suppose that was easy to guess!" said John, a warm flush of +colour rising to his brows as he spoke--"But you could not have +imagined for a moment that she would love me! Yet she does! That is +the wonder of it! I am such an old humdrum fellow--and she is so +young and bright and pretty! It seems so strange that she should +care!" + +Dr. Forsyth looked at him with an appreciative twinkle in his eye. +Then he laid a friendly hand upon his shoulder, + +"You are a quaint creature, John!" he said--"Yet, do you know, I +rather like your humdrum ways? I do, positively! And if I were a +woman, I think I should esteem myself fortunate if I got you for a +husband! I really should! You certainly don't suffer from swelled +head, John--that's a great point in your favour!" + +He laughed,--and John laughed with him. Then, drawing their chairs +to opposite sides of the fire, they talked for an hour or more on +the subject that was most interesting to them both, John was for +marrying Maryllia as soon as possible--"in order that I may have the +right to watch over her," he urged, and Forsyth agreed. + +"But wait till Santori has seen her, and given his opinion,"--he +said--"If he comes, as his telegram says he will to-morrow, we can +take him entirely into our confidence, to decide what is best for +her peace and pleasure. The ceremony of marriage can be gone through +privately at the Manor,--by the way, why don't you ask your friend +the Bishop to officiate? I suppose he knows the position?" + +"He knows much, but not all,"--said John--"I wrote to him about the +accident of course--and have written to him frequently since, but I +did not think I should ever have such news to tell him as I have +now!" His eyes darkened with deep feeling. "He has had his own +tragedy--he will understand mine!" + +A silence fell between them,--and soon after, Forsyth took his +leave. Walden, left alone, and deeply conscious of the new +responsibility he had taken upon his life, set to work to get +through his parish business for the evening, in order to have time +to devote to Maryllia the next day, and, writing a long letter to +Bishop Brent, he told him all the history of his late-found +happiness,--his hopes, his sorrows, his fears--and his intention to +show what a man's true love could be to a woman whom unkind destiny +had deprived of all the natural joys of living. He added to this +letter a few words referring to Forsyth's information respecting the +Italian specialist, Santori, who had been sent for to see Maryllia +and pronounce on her condition--"but I fear," he wrote, "that there +is nothing to be done, save to resign ourselves to the apparently +cruel and incomprehensible will of God, which in this case has +declared itself in favour of allowing the innocent to suffer." + +Next morning he awoke to find the sun shining brightly from a sky +almost clear blue, save for a few scattered grey fleecy clouds,-- +and, stepping out into his garden, the first thing he noticed was a +root of primroses breaking shyly into flower. Seeing Bainton +trimming the shrubbery close by, he called his attention to it. + +"Spring is evidently on the way, Bainton!" he said cheerily, "We are +getting past the white into the gold again!" + +"Ay, Passon, that we be!" rejoined Bainton, with a smile--"An' +please the Lord, we'll soon get from the gold into the blue, an' +from the blue into the rose! For that's allus the way o' the year,-- +first little white shaky blossoms wot's a bit afraid of theirselves, +lest the frost should nip 'em,--and then the deep an' the pale an' +the bright gold blossoms, which just laughs at dull weather--an' +then the blue o' the forget-me-nots an' wood-bells,--an' the red o' +the roses to crown all. An' mebbe," he continued, with a shrewd +upward glance at his master's face--"when the roses come, there'll +be a bit of orange-blossom to keep 'em company---" + +John started,--and then his kind smile, so warm and sunny and sweet, +shone like a beam of light itself across his features. + +"What, Bainton!" he said--"So you know all about it already!" + +Bainton began to chuckle irrepressibly. + +"Well, if the village ain't a liar from its one end to its +t'otherest, then I knows!" he declared triumphantly--"Lord love ye, +Passon, you don't s'pose ye can keep any secrets in this 'ere +parish? They knows all about ye 'fore ye knows yerself!--an' Missis +Spruce she came down from the Manor last night in such a state o' +fluster as never was, an' she sez, all shakin' like an' smilin'-- +'Miss Maryllia's goin' to be married,' sez she, an' we up an' sez to +'er--'What, is the Dook goin' to 'ave her just the same though she +can't walk no more?' an' she sez: 'Dook, not a bit of it! There's a +better man than any Dook close by an' it's 'im she's goin' to 'ave +an' nobody else, an' it's Passon Walden,' sez she, an' with that we +all gives a big shout, an' she busts out cryin' an' laughin' +together, an' we all doos the same like the nesh fools we are when a +bit o' news pleases us like,--an'--an'---" Here Bainton's voice grew +rather husky and tremulous as he proceeded--"so of course the news +went right through the village two minutes arterwards. An' it's all +we could do to keep from comin' up outside 'ere an' givin' ye a +rousin' cheer 'fore goin' to bed, onny Mr. Netlips 'e said it +wouldn't be 'commensurate,' wotever that is, so we just left it. +Howsomever, I made up my mind I'd be the first to wish ye joy, +Passon!--an' I wish it true!" + +Silently Walden held out his hand. Bainton grasped it with +affectionate respect in his own horny palm. + +"Not that I'd 'ave ever thought you'd a' bin a marryin' man, +Passon!" he averred, his shrewd eyes lighting up with the kindliest +humour--"But it's never too late to mend!" + +Walden laughed. + +"That's true, Bainton! It's never too late to repent of one's +follies and begin to be wise! Thank you for all your good wishes-- +they come from the heart, I know! But"--and his smile softened into +an earnest gravity of expression--"they must be for her--for Miss +Maryllia--not for me! I am already happier than I deserve--but she +needs everyone's good thoughts and prayers to help her to bear her +enforced helplessness--she is very brave--yet--it is hard---" + +He broke off, not trusting himself to say more. + +"It's hard--it's powerful hard!" agreed Bainton, sympathetically-- +"Such a wife as she'd a' made t'ye, Passon, if she'd been as she was +when she come in smilin' an' trippin' across this lawn by your side, +an' ye broke off a bit o' your best lilac for her! There's the very +bush--all leafless twigs now, but strong an' 'elthy an' ready to +bloom again! Ah! I remember that day well!--'twas the same day as ye +sat under the apple tree arter she was gone an' fastened a +threepenny bit with a 'ole in it to ye're watch chain! I seed it! +An' I was fair mazed over that 'oley bit,--but I found out all about +it!--hor-hor-hor!" and Bainton began to laugh with exceeding delight +at his own perspicuity--"A few minutes' gossip with old Missis +Tapple at the post-office did it!--hor-hor-hor! for she told me, +bless 'er heart!--as 'ow Miss Vancourt 'ad given it t'ye for fun, as +a sort o' reward like for sendin' off some telegrams for 'er! Hor- +hor! There's naught like a village for findin' out everybody's +little secrets, an' our village beats every other one I ever heard +tell on at that kind o' work, it do reely now! I say, Passon, when +they was spreadin' all the stories round about you an' Miss +Vancourt, I could a' told a tale about the 'oley bit, couldn't I?" + +"You could indeed!" laughed John, good-naturedly--"and yet--I +suppose you didn't!" + +"Not I!" said Bainton, stoutly--"I do talk a bit, but I ain't Missis +Spruce, nor I ain't turned into a telephone tube yet. Mebbe I will +when I'm a bit older. 'Ave ye heard, Passon, as 'ow Oliver Leach is +dead?" + +"Yes,--Dr. Forsyth told me last night." + +"Now d'ye think a man like 'im is gone to Heaven!" demanded Bainton- +-"Honest an' true, d'ye think the Lord Almighty wants 'im?" + +John was rather non-plussed. His garrulous gardener watched his face +with attentive interest. + +"Don't ye answer unless ye like, Passon!" he observed, sagaciously-- +"I don't want to make ye say things which ain't orthodox! You keep a +still tongue, an' I shall understand!" + +John took the hint. He 'kept a still tongue'--and turned back from +the garden into the house. Bainton chuckled softly. + +"Passon can't lie!" he said to himself--"He couldn't do it to save +his life! That's just the best of 'im! Now if he'd begun tellin' me +that he was sure that blackhearted rascal 'ad gone to keep company +with the angels I'd a nigh despised im!--I would reely now!" + +That same morning, when John walked up to the Manor again, he +entered it as a privileged person, invested with new authority. +Cicely ran to meet him, and frankly put up her face to be kissed. + +"A thousand and one congratulations!" she said--"I knew this would +come!--I was sure of it! But the credit of the first guess is due to +the Mooncalf,--Julian, you know!--he's a poet, and he made up a +whole romance about you and Maryllia the first day he ever saw you +with her!" + +"Did he?"--and Walden smiled--"Well, he was right! I am very happy, +Cicely!" + +"So am I!" And the 'Goblin' clasped her hands affectionately across +his arm--"You are just the very man I should have chosen for +Maryllia!--the only man, in fact--I've never met anybody else worthy +of her! But oh, if she were only strong and well! Do you know that +Dr. Forsyth is bringing another specialist to see her this +afternoon?" + +"Yes, I know!" + +"And there's other news for you this morning"--pursued Cicely, a +broad smile lighting up her face and eyes--"Very amusing news! Lord +Roxmouth is married!" + +"Married!" exclaimed Walden, incredulously--"Not possible!" + +"Come and see the wedding cards!"--and Cicely, laughing outright, +caught his hand, and pulled him along into the morning room, where +Maryllia, with her couch turned so that she could see the first +glimpse of her lover as he entered the doorway, was eagerly awaiting +his approach--"Maryllia, here's John! Prove to him at once please +that Mrs. Fred's millions are lost to you forever!" + +Maryllia laughed, and blushed sweetly too, as John bent over her and +kissed her with a very expressive look of tenderness, not to say +proprietorship. + +"It's true, John!" she said--"Lord Roxmouth has married Aunt Emily!" + +John's blue eyes lighted with sudden laughter. + +"Well done!" he exclaimed, gaily--"Anything for the millions, +evidently! What a comfort to think he has secured them at last! And +so you have become the niece instead of the wife of the future duke, +my Maryllia! When and where were they married?" + +"Last week at the Embassy in Paris. Cicely wrote to Aunt Emily at +New Year, telling her that though I was much better, the doctors had +said I should be a cripple for life. Well, we never had any answer +at all to that letter,--not a word of regret, or affection or +sympathy. Then,--this morning--behold!--the Roxmouth wedding cards!" + +She took a silver-bordered envelope lying on a little table close +beside her, and drawing out from it the cards in question, held them +up to his view. Walden glanced at them with a touch of contempt. + +"Shall I wire our united heartiest congratulations?" he queried, +smiling--"And add that we are engaged to be married?" + +"Do!" said Maryllia, clasping his hand in her own and kissing it-- +"Go and send the wire off through dear old Mrs. Tapple! And then all +the village will know how happy I am!" + +"How happy WE are,"--corrected John--"I think they know that +already, Maryllia! But it shall be well impressed upon them!" + +Later on, when he was in the village, making his usual round of +visits among the sick and poor, and receiving the affectionate good +wishes of many who had heard the news of his betrothal, he saw Dr. +Forsyth driving up to the Manor in his gig with another man beside +him, who, as he rightly guessed, was no other than the celebrated +Italian specialist, Santori. Forsyth had promised to come and tell +him the result of the consultation as soon as he knew it himself, +and Walden waited for him hour after hour with increasing +impatience. At last he appeared,--pale, and evidently under the +influence of some strongly suppressed excitement. + +"Walden,"--he said, without preface or hesitation--"are you prepared +to face a great crisis?" + +Walden's heart almost stood still. Had anything happened to Maryllia +in the short space of time which had elapsed since he saw her last? + +"What do you mean?!" he faltered--"I could not bear to lose her-- +now---" + +"You must lose her in a year at the utmost, if you do not run the +risk of losing her to save her now,"--said Forsyth, bluntly-- +"Santori has seen her--and--keep cool, John!--he says there is just +one chance of restoring her to her former health and activity again, +but it is a chance fraught with imminent danger to her life. He will +not risk it without her full consent,--and (knowing you are her +betrothed husband)--yours. It is a very serious and difficult +operation,--she may live through it, and she may not." + +"I will not have it!" said Walden, quickly, almost fiercely, "She +shall not be touched---" + +"Wait!" continued Forsyth, regarding him steadily--"In her present +condition, she will die in a year. She must. There is no help for +it. If Santori operates--and he is quite willing to undertake it-- +she may live,--and not only may she live, but she may be absolutely +strong and well again,--able to walk and ride, and enjoy her life to +the full. It rests with her and with you to decide,--yes or no!" + +Walden was silent. + +"I may as well tell you,"--went on Forsyth--"that she--Miss Vancourt +herself,--is ready to risk it. Santori has gone back to London to- +night,--but if we agree to place her under his hands he will come +and perform the operation next week." + +"Next week!" murmured Walden, faintly--"Must it be so soon?" + +"The sooner the better,"--said Forsyth, quietly, yet firmly, "Come, +John, face this thing out! I am thinking of the chance of her +happiness as well as yours. Is it worth while to sacrifice the whole +of a young life's possible activity for the sake of one year's +certainty of helplessness with death at the end? Wrestle the facts +out with yourself;--go and see her to-night. And after you have +talked it over together, let me know." + +He went out then, and left Walden alone to face this new dark cloud +of anxiety and suspense that seemed to loom over a sky which he +imagined had just cleared. But when he saw Maryllia that evening, +her face reflected nothing but sunshine, and her eyes were radiant +with hope. + +"I must take this chance, John!" she said--"Do not withhold your +consent! Think what it means to us both if this great surgeon is +able to set me on my feet again!--and he is so kind and gentle!--he +says he has every hope of success! What happiness it will be for me +if I can be all in all to you, John!--a real true wife, instead of a +poor helpless invalid dependent on your daily care!--oh John, let me +show you how much I love you by facing this ordeal, and trying to +save my life for your sake!" + +He drew her into his arms, and folded her close to his heart. + +"My child--my darling! If you wish it, it shall be done!" he +murmured brokenly--"And may God in His great mercy be good to us +both! But if you die, my Maryllia, I shall die too--so we shall +still be together!" + +So it was settled; and Dr. Forsyth, vacillating uneasily between +hope and fear, communicated the decision at once to the famous +Italian surgeon, who, without any delay or hesitation responded by +promptly fixing a day in the ensuing week for his performance of the +critical task which was either to kill or cure a woman who to one +man was the dearest of all earth's creatures. And with such dreadful +rapidity did the hours fly towards that day that Walden experienced +in himself all the trembling horrors of a condemned criminal who +knows that his execution is fixed for a certain moment to which Time +itself seems racing like a relentless bloodhound, sure of its +quarry. Writing to Bishop Brent he told him all, and thus concluded +his letter:-- + +"If I lose her now--now, after the joy of knowing that she loves me- +-I shall kneel before you broken-hearted and implore your +forgiveness for ever having called you selfish in the extremity of +your grief and despair for the loss of love. For I am myself utterly +selfish to the heart's core, and though I say every night in my +prayers 'Thy Will be done,' I know that if she is taken from me I +shall rebel against that Will! For I am only human,--and make no +pretence to be more than a man who loves greatly." + +During this interval of suspense Cicely and Julian were thrown much +together. Every moment that Walden could spare from his parish work, +he passed by the side of his beloved, knowing that his presence made +her happy, and fearing that these days might be his last with her on +earth. Maryllia herself however seemed to have no such forebodings. +She was wonderfully bright and cheerful, and though her body was so +helpless her face was radiant with such perfect happiness that it +looked as fair as that of any pictured angel. Cicely, recognising +the nature of the ordeal through which these two lovers were +passing, left them as much by themselves as possible, and laid upon +Julian the burden of her own particular terrors which she was at no +pains to conceal. And unfortunately Julian did not, under the +immediate circumstances, prove a very cheery comforter. + +"I hate the knife!" he said, gloomily--"Everyone is cut up or +slashed about in these days--there's too much of it altogether. If +ever a fruit pip goes the way it should not go into my interior +mechanism, I hope it may be left there to sprout up into a tree if +it likes--I don't mind, so long as I'm not sliced up for +appendicitis or pipcitis or whatever it is." + +"I wonder what our great-grandparents used to do when they were +ill?" queried Cicely, with a melancholy stare in her big, pitiful +dark eyes. + +"They let blood,"--replied Julian--"They used to go to the barber's +and get a vein cut at the same time as their hair. Of course it was +all wrong. We all know now that it was very wrong. In another +hundred years or so we shall find out that twentieth-century surgery +was just as wrong." + +Cicely clasped her hands nervously. + +"Oh, don' you think Maryllia will come through the operation all +right?" she implored, for about the hundredth time in the course of +two days. + +Julian looked away from her. + +"I don't know--and I don't like to express any opinion about it,"-- +he answered, with careful gentleness--"But there is danger--and--if +the worst should happen---" + +"It won't happen! It shan't happen!" cried Cicely passionately. + +"Dear little singing Goblin, I wish you could control fate!" And, +taking her hand, he patted it affectionately. "Everything would be +all right for everybody if you could make it so, I'm sure!--even for +me! Wouldn't it?" + +Cicely blushed suddenly. + +"I don't know,"--she said--"I never think about you!" + +He smiled. + +"Don't you? Well,--perhaps some day you will! When you are a great +prima donna, you will read the poems and verses I shall write about +you in all the newspapers and magazines, and you will say as you +take kings' and emperors' diamonds out of your hair: 'Who is this +fellow? Ah yes! I remember him! He was a chum of mine down in the +little village of St. Rest. I called him Mooncalf, and he called me +Goblin. And--he was very fond of me!'" + +She laughed a little, and drew away her hand from his. + +"Don't talk nonsense!" she said--"Think of Maryllia--and of Mr. +Walden!" + +"I do think of them,--I think of them all the time!" declared Julian +earnestly--"And that is why I am so uneasy. For--if the worst should +happen, it will break Walden's heart." + +Cicely's eyes filled with tears. She hurried away from him without +another word or glance. + +The fateful morning dawned. Walden had parted from Maryllia the +previous night, promising himself that he would see her again before +she passed into the surgeon's hands,--but Forsyth would not permit +this. + +"She does not wish it, John,"--he said--"And she has asked me to +tell you so. Stay away from the Manor--keep quiet in your own house, +if you feel unable to perform your usual round of work. It will be +best for her and for you. I will let you know directly the operation +is over. Santori is already here. Now"--and he gave Walden's hand a +close and friendly grip--"steady, John! Say your prayers if you +like,--we want all the help God can give us!" + +The door opened and closed again--he was gone. A great silence,--a +horrible oppression and loneliness fell upon Walden's heart. He sank +into his accustomed chair and stared before him with unseeing eyes,- +-mechanically patting his dog Nebbie while gently pushing the animal +back in its attempts to clamber on his knee. + +"My God, my God!" he muttered--"What shall I do without her?" + +Someone opened the door again just then. He started, thinking that +Forsyth had returned perhaps to tell him something he had forgotten. +But the tall attenuated form that confronted him was not that of +Forsyth. A look of amazed recognition, almost of awe, flashed into +his eyes. + +"Brent!" he cried,--and he caught at the pale hands extended to +him,--hands like those of a saint whose flesh is worn by fasting and +prayer;--then, with something of a sob, exclaimed again--"Harry! +How--why did you come?" + +Brent's eyes met his with a world of sympathy and tenderness in +their dark and melancholy depths. + +"I have come,"--he said,--and his musical voice, grave and sweet, +trembled with deep feeling--"because I think this is your dark hour, +John!--and because---perhaps---you may need me!" + +And John, meeting that sad and steadfast gaze, and shaken beyond +control by his pent-up suffering and suspense, suddenly fell on his +knees. + +"Help me!" he cried, appealingly, with the tears struggling in his +throat--"You are right--I need you! Help me to be strong--you are +nearer God than I am! Pray for me!" + +Gently the Bishop withdrew his hands from the fevered clasp that +held them, and laid them tenderly on the bowed head. His lips moved, +but he uttered no words. There was a solemn pause, broken only by +the slow ticking of the clock in the outer hall. + +Presently, rising in obedience to his friend's persuasive touch, +Walden stood awhile with face turned away, trying to master himself, +yet trembling in every nerve, despite his efforts. + +"Brent,"--he began, huskily--"I am ashamed that you should see me +like this---so weak---" + +"A weakness that will make you stronger by and by, John!" and the +Bishop linked a friendly arm within his own--"Come into the church +with me, will you? I feel the influence of your enshrined Saint upon +me! Let us wait for news, good or bad, at the altar,--and while +waiting, we will pray. Do you remember what I said to you when you +came to see me last summer? 'Some day, when we are in very desperate +straits, we will see what your Saint can do for us'? Come!" + +Without a word of demur, John obeyed. They passed out of the house +together and took the private by-path to the church. It was then +about noon, and the sun shone through a soft mist that threatened +rain without permitting it to fall. The faint piping of a thrush in +the near distance suggested the music of the coming Spring, and the +delicate odour of plant-life pushing its way through the earth gave +a pungent freshness to the quiet air. Arriving at the beautiful +little sanctuary, they entered it by the vestry, though the public +door stood open according to invariable custom. A singularly +brilliant glare of luminance reflected from the plain clear glass +that filled the apertures of the rose-window above the altar, struck +aslant on the old-world sarcophagus which doubtless contained the +remains of one who, all 'miraculous' attributes apart, had nobly +lived and bravely died,--and as the Bishop moved reverently round it +to the front of the altar-rails, his eyes were uplifted and full of +spiritual rapture. + +"Kneel here with me, John!" he said--"And with all our hearts and +all our minds, let us pray to God for the life of the beloved woman +whom God has given you,--given, surely, not to take away again, but +to be more completely made your own! Let us pray, as the faithful +servants of Christ prayed in the early days of the Church,--not +hesitatingly, not doubtingly, not fearingly!--but believing and +making sure that our prayers will, if good for us, be granted!" + +They knelt together. Walden, folding his arms on the altar-rails, +hid his face,--but the Bishop, clasping his hands and fixing his +eyes on the word 'Resurget' that flashed out of the worn alabaster-- +wherein the unknown 'Saint' reposed, seemed to gather to himself all +the sunlight that poured through the window above him, and to exhale +from his own slight worn frame something like the mystic halo of +glory pictured round the figure of an apostle or evangelist. + +The minutes slowly ebbed away. The church clock chimed the half-hour +after noon--and they remained absorbed in a trance of speechless, +passionate prayer. They were unaware that some of Walden's +parishioners, moved by the same idea of praying for Maryllia while +she was undergoing the operation which was to save or slay, had come +to the church also for that purpose, but were brought to a pause on +the threshold of the building by the sight they saw within. That +their own beloved 'Passon' should be kneeling at the altar in the +agony of his own heart's Gethsemane was too much for their simple +and affectionate souls,--and they withdrew in haste and silence, +many of them with tears in their eyes. They were considerably awed +too by the discovery that no less a personage than the Bishop of the +diocese himself was companioning Walden in his trouble,--and, moving +away in little groups of twos and threes, they stood about here and +there in the churchyard, waiting for they knew not what, and all +affected by the same thrill of mingled suspense, hope and fear. +Among them was Bainton, who, when he had peered into the white +silence of the church and had seen for himself that it was indeed +his master who was praying there beside his Bishop, made no pretence +to hide his emotion. + +"We be all fools together,"--he said to Adam Frost in hoarse +accents, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand--"We ain't no +stronger nor wiser than a lot o' chitterin' sparrows on a housetop! +Old Josey, he be too weak an' ailin' to get out in this kind o' +weather, but he sez he's prayin' 'ard, which I truly believe he is, +though he ain't in church. All the village is on its knees this +marnin' I reckon, whether it's workin' in fields or gardens, or +barns or orchards, an' if the Lord A'mighty don't take no notice of +us, He must be powerful 'ard of 'earin'!" + +Adam Frost coughed warningly,--jerked his thumb in the direction of +the church, and was silent. + +Suddenly a lark sang. Rising from the thick moss and jgrass which +quilted over the grave of 'th' owld Squire,' Maryllia's father, the +bird soared hoveringly aloft into the sun-warmed February air,--and +by one common impulse the villagers looked up, watching the +quivering of its wings. + +"Bless us! That's the first skylark of the year!" said Mrs. Frost, +who, holding her blue-eyed 'Baby Hippolyta,' otherwise Ipsie, by the +hand, stood near the church porch--"Ain't it singin' sweet?" + +"Fine!" murmured one or two of her gossips near her,--"Seems a good +sign o' smilin' weather!" + +There was a silence then among the merely human company, while the +bird of heaven sang on more and more exultingly, and soared higher +and higher into the misty grey-blue of the sky. + +All at once the clock struck with a sharp clang 'one.' Inside the +church, its deep reverbation startled the watchers from their +prayers with an abrupt shock--and Walden lifted his head from his +folded arms, showing in the bright shaft of strong sunshine that now +bathed him in its radiance, his sad eyes, heavy and swollen with +restrained tears. Suddenly there was a murmur of voices outside,--a +smothered cry,--and then a little flying figure, breathless, +hatless, with wild sparkling eyes and dark hair streaming loose in +the wind, rushed into the church. It was Cicely. "It's all over!" +she cried. + +Walden sprang up, sick and dizzy. Bishop Brent rose from his knees +slowly, his delicate right hand clutching nervously at the altar +rail. Like men in a dream, they heard and gazed, stricken by a +mutual horror too paralysing for speech. + +"All over!"--muttered John, feebly--"My God!--my God! All over!" + +Cicely sprang to him and caught his arm. + +"Yes!--Don't you understand?" and her voice shook with excitement-- +"All over! She is safe!--quite safe!--she will be well!--Mr. +Walden!--John!--don't look at me like that! oh dear!" and she turned +a piteous glance on Bishop Brent who was, to her, a complete +stranger--"He doesn't seem to hear me--please speak to him!--do make +him understand! Everything has been done successfully--and Maryllia +will live--she will be her own dear bright self again! As soon as I +heard the good news, I raced down here to tell you and everybody!-- +oh John!--poor John!" + +For, with a great sigh and a sudden stretching upward of his arms as +though he sought to reach all Heaven with his soul's full measure of +gratitude, John staggered blindly a few steps from the altar of the +Saint's Rest and fell,--senseless. + + * * * * * * * * + +Again the merry month of May came in rejoicing. Again the May-pole +glorious with blossoms and ribbons, made its nodding royal progress +through the village of St. Rest, escorted by well-nigh a hundred +children, who, with laughter and song carried it triumphantly up to +Abbot's Manor, and danced round it in a ring on the broad grassy +terrace facing the open windows of Maryllia's favourite morning +room, where Maryllia herself, sweet and fair as a very queen of +spring, stood watching them, with John Walden at her side. Again +their fresh young voices, gay with the musical hilarity of +happiness, carolled the Mayer's song:-- + + "We have been rambling all this night, + And almost all this day; + And now returning back again, + We bring you in the May! + + A branch of May we have brought you, + And at your door it stands, + 'Tis but a sprout, + But 'tis budded out, + By the work of our Lord's hands. + + The heavenly gates are open wide, + Our paths are beaten plain; + And if a man be not too far gone, + He may return again!" + +"That's true!" said John, slipping an arm round his beloved, and +whispering his words in the little delicate ear half-hidden by the +clustering gold-brown curls above it--"If a man be not too far gone +as a bachelor, he may perhaps 'return again' as a tolerable husband? +What do you think, my Maryllia?" + +Her eyes sparkled with all their own mirth and mischief. + +"I couldn't possibly say--yet!" she said--"You are quite perfect as +an engaged man,--I never heard of anybody quite so attentive--so-- +well!--so nicely behaved!" and she laughed, "But how you will turn +out when you are married, I shouldn't like to prophesy!" + +"If the children weren't looking at us, I should kiss you," he +observed, with a suggestive glance at her smiling lips. + +"I'm sure you would!" she rejoined--"For an 'old' bachelor, John, +you are quite an adept at that kind of thing!" + +Here the little village dancers slackened the speed of their +tripping measure and moved slowly round and round, allowing the +garlands and ribbons to drop from their hands one by one against the +May-pole, as they sang in softer tones-- + + "The moon shines bright, and the stars give light, + A little before it is day, + So God bless you all, both great and small, + And send you a merrie May!" + +Ceasing at this, they all gathered in one group and burst out into +an ecstatic roar. + +"Hurra! Three cheers for Passon!" + +"Hurra! Hurra! Hurra!" + +"Three cheers for Miss Vancourt!" + +"Hurra!" But here there was a pause. Some one was obstructing the +wave of enthusiasm. Signs of mixed scuffling were apparent,--when +all suddenly the bold voice of Bob Keeley cried out: + +"Not a bit of it! Three cheers for Missis Passon!" + +Shouts of laughter followed this irreverent proposal, together with +much whooping and cheering as never was. Ipsie Frost, who of course +was present, no village revel being considered complete without her, +was dancing recklessly all by herself on the grass, chirping in her +baby voice a ballad of her own contriving which ran thus: + + "Daisies white, violets blue, + Cowslips yellow,--and + I loves 'oo! + + Little bird's nest + Up in a tree, + Spring's comin',--and + 'Oo loves me!" + +And it was after Ipsie that Maryllia ran, to cover her smiles and +blushes as the echo of the children's mirth pealed through the +garden,--and with the pretty blue-eyed little creature clinging to +her hand, she came back again sedately, with all her own winsome and +fairy-like stateliness to thank them for their good wishes. + +"They mean it so well, John!" she said afterwards, when the +youngsters, still laughing and cheering, had gone away with their +crowned symbol of the dawning spring--"and they love you so much! I +never knew of any man that was loved so much by so many people in +one little place as you are, John! And to be loved by all the +children is a great thing;--I think--of course I cannot be quite +sure--but I think it is an exceptional thing--for a clergyman!" + + * * * * * * * + + * * * * * + + * * * + +With rose-crowned June, the rose-window in the church of St. Rest +was filled in and completed. Maryllia had found all the remaining +ancient stained glass that had been needed to give the finishing +touch to its beauty, and the loveliest deep gem-like hues shone +through the carven apertures like rare jewels in a perfect setting. +The rays of light filtering through them were wonderful and +mystical,--such as might fall from the pausing wings of some great +ministering angel,--and under the blaze of splendid colour, the +white sarcophagus with its unknown 'Saint' asleep, lay steeped in +soft folds of crimson and azure, gold and amethyst, while even the +hollow notches in the sculptured word 'Resurget' seemed filled with +delicate tints like those painted by old-world monks on treasured +missals. And presently one morning came,--warm with the breath of +summer, sunny and beautiful,--when the window was solemnly re- +consecrated by Bishop Brent at ten o'clock,--a consecration followed +by the loud and joyous ringing of the bells, and a further sacred +ceremony,--the solemnisation of matrimony between John Walden and +Maryllia Vancourt. All the village swarmed out like a hive of bees +from their honey-cells to see their 'Passon' married. Hundreds of +honest and affectionate eyes looked love on the bride, as clad in +the simplest of simple white gowns, with a plain white veil draping +her from head to foot, she came walking to the church across the +warm clover-scented fields, like any village maid, straight from the +Manor, escorted only by Cicely, her one bridesmaid. At the +churchyard gate, she was met by all the youngest girls of the +school, arrayed in white, who, carrying rush baskets full of wild +flowers, scattered them before her as she moved,--and when she +arrived at the church porch, she was followed by the little child +Ipsie, whose round fair cherub-like face reflected one broad smile +of delight, and who carried between her two tiny hands a basket full +to overflowing of old French damask roses, red as the wine-glow of a +summer sunset. The church was crowded,--not only by villagers but by +county folks,--for everyone from near or far that could be present +at what they judged to be a 'strange' wedding--namely a wedding for +love and love alone--had mustered in force for the occasion. One or +two had stayed away from a certain sense of discrepancy in +themselves, to which it is needless to refer. Sir Morton Pippitt was +among these. He felt,--but what he felt is quite immaterial. And so +far as his daughter was concerned, she, as Bainton expressed it, had +'gone a' visitin'.' The Ittlethwaites, of Ittlethwaite Park, in all +the glory of their Magnum Chartus forebears were present, as were +the Mandeville-Porehams--while to Julian Adderley was given the +honour of being Walden's 'best man.' He, as the music of the wedding +voluntary poured from the organ, through the flower-scented air, +wondered doubtfully whether poetic inspiration would ever assist him +in such wise as to enable him to express in language the exquisite +sweetness of Maryllia's face, as, standing beside the man whose +tender and loyal love she was surer of than any other possession in +this world she repeated in soft accents the vow: "to have and to +hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for +poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey +till death do us part!" + +And when Bishop Brent placed her little hand in that of his old +college friend, and pressed them tenderly together, he felt, looking +at the heavenly light that beamed from her sweet eyes, that not even +death itself could part her fond soul from that of the man whom she +loved, and who loved her so purely and faithfully in God's sight. +Thus, when pronouncing the words--"Those whom God hath joined +together, let no man. put asunder!" he was deeply conscious that for +once at least in the troublous and uncertain ways of the modern +world, the holy bond of wedlock was approved of in such wise as to +be final and eternal. + +Away in London, on this same marriage day, Lady Roxmouth, formerly +Mrs. Fred Vancourt, sat at luncheon in her sumptuously furnished +house in Park Lane, and looked across the table at her husband, +while he lazily sipped a glass of wine. + +"That ridiculous girl Maryllia has married her parson by this time I +suppose,"--she said--"Of course it's perfectly scandalous. Lady +Beaulyon was quite disgusted when she heard of it--such an alliance +for a Vancourt! And Mr. and Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay tell me that the +man Walden is quite an objectionable person--positively boorish! +It's dreadful really! But who could ever have imagined she would +recover from that hunting spill? Wentworth Glynn said she was +crippled for life. He told me so himself." + +"Well, he was wrong evidently,"--said Roxmouth, curtly. "English +surgeons are very clever, but they are not always infallible. This +time an Italian has beaten them." + +"Perhaps she was not so seriously injured as the local man at St. +Rest made her out to be,"--pursued her ladyship reflectively. + +Roxmouth said nothing. She studied his face with amused scrutiny. + +"Perhaps it was another little ruse to get rid of you and your +wooing,"--she went on--"Dear me! What an extraordinary contempt +Maryllia always had for you to be sure!" + +He moved restlessly, and she smiled--a hard little smile. + +"I guess you're hankering after her still!" she hinted. + +"Your remarks are in rather bad taste,"--he rejoined, coldly, +helping himself to another glass of wine. + +She rose from her chair, and came round the table to where he sat, +laying a heavily jewelled hand on his shoulder. + +"Well, you've got ME!" she said--"And all I'm worth! And you 'love' +me, don't you?" + +She laughed a little. + +He looked full at her,--at her worn, hard, artificially got-up face, +her fashionable frock, and her cold, expressionless eyes. + +"Oh yes!" he answered, drily--"I 'love' you! You know I do. We +understand each other!" + +"I guess we do!" she thought to herself as she left him--"And when +I'm tired of being called 'My lady' or 'Your Grace' I'll divorce +him! And I'll take care he isn't a penny the richer! There's always +that game to play, and you bet the Smart Set know how to play it!" + +But of the ways, doings or saying of the Smart Set the village of +St. Rest knows little and cares less. It dozes peacefully with the +sun in its eyes, year in and year out, under the shadow of the +eastern hills, with its beloved 'Passon' and now its equally beloved +'Passon's wife,' as king and queen of its tiny governmental +concerns, drawing health and peace, contentment and tranquillity +from the influences of nature, unspoilt by contact with the busier +and wearier world. 'Passon Walden's' wedding-day was the chief great +historic event of its conscious life. For on that never-to-be- +forgotten and glorious occasion, the tenantry of Abbot's Manor, +together with all the villagers and the school-children were +entertained at an open-air festival and dance, which lasted all the +afternoon and evening, on the broad smooth greensward encircling the +famous 'Five Sister' beeches where bride and bridegroom had looked +upon each other for the first time. What a high tide of simple +revelry it was to be sure! Never had the delicate tremulous green +foliage of the rescued trees waved over a happier scene. 'Many a +kiss both odd and even' was exchanged among lads and lasses at that +blithe merry-making,--even Cicely and Julian Adderley were not +always to be found when they were wanted, having taken to 'composing +music and poetry together,' which no doubt quite accounted for their +long rambles together away from all the rest of the merry crowd. +Mrs. Spruce, with a circle of her gossips round her, sat talking the +whole livelong day on the 'ways o' the Lord bein' past findin' out.' + +"For," said she, "when Miss Maryllia first come 'ome she 'adn't an +idee o' goin' to hear Passon Walden, an' sez I 'do-ee go an' hear +'im,' an' she sez--'No, Spruce, I cannot, I don't believe in it'-- +an' I sez to myself, 'never mind, the Lord 'e knows 'is own, which +He do, but 'ard as are His ways I never did think He'd a' brought +her to be Passon's wife,--that do beat me, though it's just what it +should be, an' if the Lord don't know what should be why then no one +don't, an' that 'minds me o' when I sent for Passon to see me unpack +Miss Maryllia's boxes, he was that careful he made me pick up a pair +o' pink shoes what 'ad fell on the floor--'Take care o' them,' he +sez--Lor!--now I come to think of it, he was mortal struck over them +pink shoes!" + +And Bainton commenting on general events observed:-- + +"Well, I did say once that if Passon were married he'd be a fine man +spoilt, but I've altered my mind now! I think he's a fine man full +growed at last, like a plant what's stopped a bit an' suddenly takes +a start an' begins to flower. An' so far as my own line goes, if +Missis Walden, bless 'er, comes round me talkin' about the rectory +garden, which is to be kep' up just the same as ever, an' fusses +like over the lilac bush what he broke a piece off of for her, +well!--I DID say I'd never 'ave a petticut round MY work--but a +pretty petticut's worth looking at, it is reely now!" + +So the harmless chatter among the village folks went on, and the +feasting, dancing and singing lasted long. Chief of important +personages among all that gathered under the old beech-trees was +Josey Letherbarrow,--very feeble,--very dim of eye, but stout of +heart and firm of opinion as ever. Beside him sat Bishop Brent,-- +with Walden himself and his bride,--for from his venerable hands +Maryllia had sought the first blessing on her marriage as soon as +the wedding ceremony had ended. + +"Everything's all right if we'll only believe it!" he said now, +looking with a wistful tenderness from one to the other--"Life's all +right--death's all right! I'm sartin sure I'll find everything just +as I've hoped an' prayed for't when I gets to th' other side o' this +world, for I've 'ad my 'art's best wish given to me when all 'ope +seemed over--an' that was to see Squire's gel 'appy! An' she IS +'appy!--look at 'er, as fresh as a little rose all smilin' an' ready +to bloom on 'er husband's lovin' 'art! Ah! Th' owld Squire would a' +been proud to see 'em this bright day! And as for the Lord A'mighty +He knows what He's about I tell ye!" and Josey nodded his head with +great sagacity--"Some folks think He don't--but He do!" + +The Bishop smiled. + +"Verily I have not found so great a faith--no, not in Israel!"--he +murmured, as presently he rose and strolled away by himself for a +while to muse and meditate. Towards sunset Walden, going in search +of him found him in the rose garden, looking at the profuse red +clusters of bloom in the old French damask border. + +"How they smile openly to the sun!" he said, pointing to them, as +John approached--"Like love!--or faith!" + +John was silent a moment. Then he said suddenly-- + +"Are you going over to Rome, Harry?" + +"No!" And Brent's eyes looked full into those of his friend, +straightly and steadfastly. "Not now. I will do the work appointed +for me to the end!" + +"Thank God!" said Walden, simply. And their hands met in a close +grasp, thereby sealing a wordless compact, never to be broken. + +The sun sank and the moon began to rise. Song and dance gradually +ceased, and the happy villagers began to disperse, and wend their +ways homeward. Love was in the air--love breathed in the perfume of +the flowers--love tuned the throats of the passionate nightingales +that warbled out their mating songs in every hazel copse and from +ever acacia bough in the Manor woods, and love seemed, as the poet +says, to 'sit astride o' the moon' as its silver orb peered over the +gables of the Manor itself and poured a white shower of glory on the +sweet face and delicate form of Maryllia, as she stood in the old +Tudor courtyard, now a veritable wilderness of flowers, with her +husband's arm round her, listening to the faint far-off singing of +the villagers returning to their homes through the scented green +lanes. + +"Everyone has been happy to-day!" she said, looking up with a smile- +-"All the world around us seems to thank God!" + +"All the world would thank Him if it could but find what we have +found!" answered John, drawing her close to his heart--"All it +wants, all it needs, both for itself and others, for this world and +the next, is simply--Love!" + +THE END + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 4653 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e107b05 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #4653 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/4653) diff --git a/old/4653.txt b/old/4653.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..258bb3e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/4653.txt @@ -0,0 +1,23713 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of God's Good Man, by Marie Corelli +#7 in our series by Marie Corelli + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg file. + +We encourage you to keep this file, exactly as it is, on your own disk, +thereby keeping an electronic path open for future readers. + +Please do not remove this. + +This header should be the first thing seen when anyone starts to +view the etext. Do not change or edit it without written permission. +The words are carefully chosen to provide users with the information +they need to understand what they may and may not do with the etext. +To encourage this, we have moved most of the information to the end, +rather than having it all here at the beginning. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These Etexts Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get etexts, and +further information, is included below. We need your donations. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a 501(c)(3) +organization with EIN [Employee Identification Number] 64-6221541 +Find out about how to make a donation at the bottom of this file. + + + +Title: God's Good Man + +Author: Marie Corelli + +Release Date: November, 2003 [Etext #4653] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on February 21, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +The Project Gutenberg Etext of God's Good Man, by Marie Corelli +*****This file should be named 4653.txt or 4653.zip***** + +Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep etexts in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +The "legal small print" and other information about this book +may now be found at the end of this file. Please read this +important information, as it gives you specific rights and +tells you about restrictions in how the file may be used. + + + + + + + + + + +GOD'S GOOD MAN + +A Simple Love Story + +By MARIE CORELLI + +AUTHOR OF "THE TREASURE OF HEAVEN," "THELMA," "A ROMANCE OF TWO +WORLDS," "THE MASTER CHRISTIAN," ETC. + + + + + + TO + + THE LIVING ORIGINAL + + OF + + "THE REVEREND JOHN WALDEN" + + AND HIS WIFE + + THIS SIMPLE LOVE STORY + + IS + + AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED + +"THERE WAS A MAN SENT FROM GOD WHOSE NAME WAS JOHN." + NEW TESTAMENT + + + + + + +GOD'S GOOD MAN + + + + +I + + +It was May-time in England. + +The last breath of a long winter had blown its final farewell across +the hills,--the last frost had melted from the broad, low-lying +fields, relaxing its iron grip from the clods of rich, red-brown +earth which, now, soft and broken, were sprouting thick with the +young corn's tender green. It had been a hard, inclement season. +Many a time, since February onward, had the too-eagerly pushing buds +of trees and shrubs been nipped by cruel cold,--many a biting east +wind had withered the first pale green leaves of the lilac and the +hawthorn,--and the stormy caprices of a chill northern. Spring had +played havoc with all the dainty woodland blossoms that should, +according to the ancient 'Shepherd's Calendar' have been flowering +fully with the daffodils and primroses. But during the closing days +of April a sudden grateful warmth had set in,--Nature, the divine +goddess, seemed to awaken from long slumber and stretch out her arms +with a happy smile,--and when May morning dawned on the world, it +came as a vision of glory, robed in clear sunshine and girdled with +bluest skies. Birds broke into enraptured song,--young almond and +apple boughs quivered almost visibly every moment into pink and +white bloom,--cowslips and bluebells raised their heads from mossy +corners in the grass, and expressed their innocent thoughts in +sweetest odour--and in and through all things the glorious thrill, +the mysterious joy of renewed life, hope and love pulsated from the +Creator to His responsive creation. + +It was May-time;--a real 'old-fashioned' English May, such as +Spenser and Herrick sang of: + + "When all is yclad + With blossoms; the ground with grass, the woodes + With greene leaves; the bushes with blossoming buddes," + +and when whatever promise our existence yet holds for us, seems far +enough away to inspire ambition, yet close enough to encourage fair +dreams of fulfilment. To experience this glamour and witchery of the +flowering-time of the year, one must, perforce, be in the country. +For in the towns, the breath of Spring is foetid and feverish,--it +arouses sick longings and weary regrets, but scarcely any positive +ecstasy. The close, stuffy streets, the swarming people, the high +buildings and stacks of chimneys which only permit the narrowest +patches of sky to be visible, the incessant noise and movement, the +self-absorbed crowding and crushing,--all these things are so many +offences to Nature, and are as dead walls of obstacle set against +the revivifying and strengthening forces with which she endows her +freer children of the forest, field and mountain. Out on the wild +heathery moorland, in the heart of the woods, in the deep bosky +dells, where the pungent scent of moss and pine-boughs fills the air +with invigorating influences, or by the quiet rivers, flowing +peacefully under bending willows and past wide osier-beds, where the +kingfisher swoops down with the sun-ray and the timid moor-hen +paddles to and from her nest among the reeds,--in such haunts as +these, the advent of a warm and brilliant May is fraught with that +tremor of delight which gives birth to beauty, and concerning which +that ancient and picturesque chronicler, Sir Thomas Malory, writes +exultantly: "Like as May moneth flourisheth and flowerth in many +gardens, so in likewise let every man of worship flourish his heart +in this world!" + +There was a certain 'man of worship' in the world at the particular +time when this present record of life and love begins, who found +himself very well-disposed to 'flourish his heart' in the Maloryan +manner prescribed, when after many dark days of unseasonable cold +and general atmospheric depression, May at last came in rejoicing. +Seated under broad apple-boughs, which spread around him like a +canopy studded with rosy bud-jewels that shone glossy bright against +the rough dark-brown stems, he surveyed the smiling scenery of his +own garden with an air of satisfaction that was almost boyish, +though his years had run well past forty, and he was a parson to +boot. A gravely sedate demeanour would have seemed the more fitting +facial expression for his age and the generally accepted nature of +his calling,--a kind of deprecatory toleration of the sunshine as +part of the universal 'vanity' of mundane things,--or a +condescending consciousness of the bursting apple-blossoms within +his reach as a kind of inferior earthy circumstance which could +neither be altered nor avoided. + +The Reverend John Walden, however, was one of those rarely gifted +individuals who cannot assume an aspect which is foreign to +temperament. He was of a cheerful, even sanguine disposition, and +his countenance faithfully reflected the ordinary bent of his +humour. Seeing him at a distance, the casual observer would at once +have judged him to be either an athlete or an ascetic. There was no +superfluous flesh about him; he was tall and muscular, with well- +knit limbs, broad shoulders, and a head altogether lacking in the +humble or conciliatory 'droop' which all worldly-wise parsons +cultivate for the benefit of their rich patrons. It was a +distinctively proud head,--almost aggressive,--indicative of strong +character and self-reliance, well-poised on a full throat, and set +off by a considerable quantity of dark brown hair which was +refractory in brushing, inclined to uncanonical curls, and +plentifully dashed with grey. A broad forehead, deeply-set, dark- +blue eyes, a straight and very prominent nose, a strong jaw and +obstinate chin,--a firmly moulded mouth, round which many a sweet +and tender thought had drawn kindly little lines of gentle smiling +that were scarcely hidden by the silver-brown moustache,--such, +briefly, was the appearance of one, who though only a country +clergyman, of whom the great world knew nothing, was the living +representative of more powerful authority to his little 'cure of +souls' than either the bishop of the diocese, or the King in all his +majesty. + +He was the sole owner of one of the smallest 'livings' in England,-- +an obscure, deeply-hidden, but perfectly unspoilt and beautiful +relic of mediaeval days, situated in one of the loveliest of +woodland counties, and known as the village of St. Rest, sometimes +called 'St. Est.' Until quite lately there had been considerable +doubt as to the origin of this name, and the correct manner of its +pronouncement. Some said it should be, 'St. East,' because, right +across the purple moorland and beyond the line of blue hills where +the sun rose, there stretched the sea, miles away and invisible, it +is true, but nevertheless asserting its salty savour in every breath +of wind that blew across the tufted pines. 'St. East,' therefore, +said certain rural sages, was the real name of the village, because +it faced the sea towards the east. Others, however, declared that +the name was derived from the memory of some early Norman church on +the banks of the peaceful river that wound its slow clear length in +pellucid silver ribbons of light round and about the clover fields +and high banks fringed with wild rose and snowy thorn, and that it +should, therefore, be 'St. Rest,' or better still, 'The Saint's +Rest.' This latter theory had recently received strong confirmation +by an unexpected witness to the past,--as will presently be duly +seen and attested. + +But St. Rest, or St. Est, whichever name rightly belonged to it, was +in itself so insignificant as a 'benefice,' that its present rector, +vicar, priest and patron had bought it for himself, through the good +offices of a friend, in the days when such purchases were possible, +and for some ten years had been supreme Dictator of his tiny kingdom +and limited people. The church was his,--especially his, since he +had restored it entirely at his own expense,--the rectory, a lop- +sided, half-timbered house, built in the fifteenth century, was +his,--the garden, full of flowering shrubs, carelessly planted and +allowed to flourish at their own wild will, was his,--the ten acres +of pasture-land that spread in green luxuriance round and about his +dwelling were his,--and, best of all, the orchard, containing some +five acres planted with the choicest apples, cherries, plums and +pears, and bearing against its long, high southern wall the finest +peaches and nectarines in the county, was his also. He had, in fact, +everything that the heart of a man, especially the heart of a +clergyman, could desire, except a wife,--and that commodity had been +offered to him from many quarters in various delicate and diplomatic +ways,--only to be as delicately and diplomatically rejected. + +And truly there seemed no need for any change in his condition. He +had gone on so far in life,--'so far!' he would occasionally remind +himself, with a little smile and sigh,--that a more or less solitary +habit had, by long familiarity, become pleasant. Actual loneliness +he had never experienced, because it was not in his nature to feel +lonely. His well-balanced intellect had the brilliant quality of a +finely-cut diamond, bearing many facets, and reflecting all the hues +of life in light and colour; thus it quite naturally happened that +most things, even ordinary and common things, interested him. He was +a great lover of books, and, to a moderate extent, a collector of +rare editions; he also had a passion for archaeology, wherein he was +sustained by a certain poetic insight of which he was himself +unconscious. The ordinary archaeologist is generally a mere Dry-as- +Dust, who plays with the bones of the past as Shakespeare's Juliet +fancied she might play with her forefathers' joints, and who eschews +all use of the imaginative instinct as though it were some deadly +evil. Whereas, it truly needs a very powerful imaginative lens to +peer down into the recesses of bygone civilisations, and re-people +the ruined haunts of dead men with their shadowy ghosts of learning, +art, enterprise, or ambition. + +To use the innermost eyes of his soul in such looking backward down +the stream of Time, as well as in looking forward to that 'crystal +sea' of the unknown Future, flowing round the Great White Throne +whence the river of life proceeds, was a favourite mental occupation +with John Walden. He loved antiquarian research, and all such +scientific problems as involve abstruse study and complex +calculation,--but equally he loved the simplest flower and the most +ordinary village tale of sorrow or mirth recounted to him by any one +of his unlessoned parishioners. He gave himself such change of air +and scene as he thought he required, by taking long swinging walks +about the country, and found sufficient relaxation in gardening, a +science in which he displayed considerable skill. No one in all the +neighbourhood could match his roses, or offer anything to compare +with the purple and white masses of violets which, quite early in +January came out under his glass frames not only perfect in shape +and colour, but full of the real 'English' violet fragrance, a +benediction of sweetness which somehow seems to be entirely withheld +from the French and Russian blooms. For the rest, he was physically +sound and morally healthy, and lived, as it were, on the straight +line from earth to heaven, beginning each day as if it were his +first life-opportunity, and ending it soberly and with prayer, as +though it were his last. + +To such a mind and temperament as his, the influences of Nature, the +sublime laws of the Universe, and the environment of existence, must +needs move in circles of harmonious unity, making loveliness out of +commonness, and poetry out of prose. The devotee of what is +mistakenly called 'pleasure,'--enervated or satiated with the sickly +moral exhalations of a corrupt society,--would be quite at a loss to +understand what possible enjoyment could be obtained by sitting +placidly under an apple-tree with a well-thumbed volume of the +wisdom of the inspired pagan Slave, Epictetus, in the hand, and the +eyes fixed, not on any printed page, but on a spray of warmly- +blushing almond blossom, where a well-fed thrush, ruffling its +softly speckled breast, was singing a wild strophe concerning its +mate, which, could human skill have languaged its meaning, might +have given ideas to a nation's laureate. Yet John Walden found +unalloyed happiness in this apparently vague and vacant way. There +was an acute sense of joy for him in the repeated sweetness of the +thrush's warbling,--the light breeze, stirring through a great bush +of early flowering lilac near the edge of the lawn, sent out a wave +of odour which tingled through his sensitive blood like wine,--the +sunlight was warm and comforting, and altogether there seemed +nothing wrong with the world, particularly as the morning's +newspapers had not yet come in. With them would probably arrive the +sad savour of human mischief and muddle, but till these daily morbid +records made their appearance, May-day might be accepted as God made +it and gave it,--a gift unalloyed, pure, bright and calm, with not a +shadow on its lovely face of Spring. The Stoic spirit of Epictetus +himself had even seemed to join in the general delight of nature, +for Walden held the book half open at a page whereon these words +were written: + +"Had we understanding thereof, would any other thing better beseem +us than to hymn the Divine Being and laud Him and rehearse His +gracious deeds? These things it were fitting every man should sing, +and to chant the greatest and divinest hymns for this, that He has +given us the power to observe and consider His works, and a Way +wherein to walk. If I were a nightingale, I would do after the +manner of a nightingale; if a swan, after that of a swan. But now I +am a reasoning creature, and it behooves me to sing the praise of +God; this is my task, and this I do, nor as long as it is granted +me, will I ever abandon this post. And you, too, I summon to join me +in the same song." + +"A wonderfully 'advanced' Christian way of looking at life, for a +pagan slave of the time of Nero!" thought Walden, as his eyes +wandered from the thrush on the almond tree, back to the volume in +his hand,--"With all our teaching and preaching, we can hardly do +better. I wonder---" + +Here his mind became altogether distracted from classic lore, by the +appearance of a very unclassic boy, clad in a suit of brown +corduroys and wearing hob-nailed boots a couple of sizes too large +for him, who, coming suddenly out from a box-tree alley behind the +gabled corner of the rectory, shuffled to the extreme verge of the +lawn and stopped there, pulling his cap off, and treading on his own +toes from left to right, and from right to left in a state of +sheepish hesitancy. + +"Come along,--come along! Don't stand there, Bob Keeley!" And Walden +rose, placing Epictetus on the seat he vacated--"What is it?" + +Bob Keeley set his hob-nailed feet on the velvety lawn with gingerly +precaution, and advancing cap in hand, produced a letter, slightly +grimed by his thumb and finger. + +"From Sir Morton, please sir! Hurgent, 'e sez." + +Walden took the missive, small and neatly folded, and bearing the +words 'Badsworth Hall' stamped in gold at the back of the envelope. +Opening it, he read: + +"Sir Morton Pippitt presents his compliments to the Reverend John +Walden, and having a party of distinguished guests staying with him +at the Hall, will be glad to know at what day and hour this week he +can make a visit of inspection to the church with his friends." + +A slight tinge of colour overspread Walden's face. Presently he +smiled, and tearing up the note leisurely, put the fragments into +one of his large loose coat pockets, for to scatter a shred of paper +on his lawn or garden paths was an offence which neither he nor any +of those he employed ever committed. + +"How is your mother, Bob?" he then said, approaching the stumpy +urchin, who stood respectfully watching him and awaiting his +pleasure. + +"Please sir, she's all right, but she coughs 'orful!" + +"Coughs 'orful, does she?" repeated the Reverend John, musingly; +"Ah, that is bad!--I am sorry! We must--let me think!--yes, Bob, we +must see what we can do for her--eh?" + +"Yes, sir," replied Bob meekly, turning his cap round and round and +wondering what 'Passon' was thinking about to have such a 'funny +look' in his eyes. + +"Yes!" repeated Walden, cheerfully, "We must see what we can do for +her! My compliments to Sir Morton Pippitt, Bob, and say I will +write." + +"Nothink else, sir?" + +"Nothing--or as you put it, Bob, 'nothink else'! I wish you would +remember, my dear boy,"--and here he laid his firm, well-shaped hand +protectingly on the small brown corduroy shoulder,--"that the word +'nothing' does not terminate in a 'k.' If you refer to your +spelling-book, I am sure you will see that I am right. The +Educational authorities would not approve of your pronunciation, +Bob, and I am endeavouring to save you future trouble with the +Government. By the way, did Sir Morton Pippitt give you anything for +bringing his note to me?" + +"Sed he would when I got back, sir." + +"Said he would when you got back? Well,--I have my doubts, Bob,--I +do not think he will. And the labourer being worthy of his hire, +here is sixpence, which, if you like to do a sum on your slate, you +will find is at the rate of one penny per mile. When you are a +working man, you will understand the strict justice of my payment. +It is three miles from Badsworth Hall and three back again,--and now +I come to think of it, what were you doing up at Badsworth?" + +Bob Keeley grinned from ear to ear. + +"Me an' Kitty Spruce went up on spec with a Maypole early, sir!" + +John Walden smiled. It was May morning,--of course it was!--and in +the village of St. Rest the old traditional customs of May Day were +still kept up, though in the county town of Riversford, only seven +miles away, they were forgotten, or if remembered at all, were only +used as an excuse for drinking and vulgar horse-play. + +"You and Kitty Spruce went up on spec? Very enterprising of you +both, I am sure! And did you make anything out of it?" + +"No, sir,--there ain't no ladies there, 'cept Miss Tabitha,--onny +some London gents,--and Sir Morton, 'e flew into an orful passion-- +like 'e do, sir,--an' told us to leave off singin' and git out,-- +'Git off my ground,' he 'ollers--'Git off!'--then jest as we was a +gittin' off, he cools down suddint like, an' 'e sez, sez 'e: 'Take a +note to the dam passon for me, an' bring a harnser, an' I'll give +yer somethink when yer gits back.' An' all the gents was a-sittin' +at breakfast, with the winders wide open an' the smell of 'am an' +eggs comin' through strong, an' they larfed fit to split +theirselves, an' one on 'em tried to kiss Kitty Spruce, an' she +spanked his face for 'im!" + +The narration of this remarkable incident, spoken with breathless +rapidity in a burst of confidence, seemed to cause the relief +supposed to be obtained by a penitent in the confessional, and to +lift a weight off Bob Keeley's mind. The smile deepened on the +'Passon's' face, and for a moment he had some difficulty to control +an outbreak of laughter, but recollecting the possibly demoralising +effect it might have on the more youthful members of the community, +if he, the spiritual director of the parish, were reported to have +laughed at the pugnacious conduct of the valiant Kitty Spruce, he +controlled himself, and assumed a tolerantly serious air. + +"That will do, Bob!--that will do! You must learn not to repeat all +you hear, especially such objectionable words as may occasionally be +used by a--a--a gentleman of Sir Morton Pippitt's high standing." + +And here he squared his shoulders and looked severely down an the +abashed Keeley. Anon he unbent himself somewhat and his eyes +twinkled with kindly humour: "Why didn't you bring the Maypole +here?" he enquired; "I suppose you thought it would not be as good a +'spec as Badsworth Hall and the London gents--eh?" + +Bob Keeley opened his round eyes very wide. + +"We be all comin' 'ere, sir!" he burst out: "All on us--ever so many +on us! But we reckoned to make a round of the village first and see +how we took on, and finish up wi' you, sir! Kitty Spruce she be a- +keepin' her best ribbin for comin' 'ere--we be all a-comin' 'fore +twelve!" + +Walden smiled. + +"Good! I shall expect you! And mind you don't all sing out of tune +when you do come. If you commit such an offence, I shall--let me +see!--I shall make mincemeat of you!--I shall indeed! Positive +mincemeat!--and bottle you up in jars for Christmas!" And he nodded +with the ferociously bland air of the giant in a fairy tale, whose +particular humour is the devouring of small children. "Now you had +better get back to Badsworth Hall with my message. Do you remember +it? My compliments to Sir Morton Pippitt, and I will write." + +He turned away, and Bob Keeley made as rapid a departure as was +consistent with the deep respect he felt for the 'Passon,' having +extracted a promise from the butcher boy of the village, who was a +friend of his, that if he were 'quick about it,' he would get a +drive up to Badsworth and back again in the butcher's cart going +there for orders, instead of tramping it. + +The Reverend John, meanwhile, strolled down one of the many winding +garden paths, past clusters of daffodils, narcissi and primroses, +into a favourite corner which he called the 'Wilderness,' because it +was left by his orders in a more or less untrimmed, untrained +condition of luxuriantly natural growth. Here the syringa, a name +sometimes given by horticultural pedants to the lilac, for no reason +at all except to create confusion in the innocent minds of amateur +growers, was opening its white 'mock orange' blossoms, and a mass of +flowering aconites spread out before him like a carpet of woven +gold. Here, too, tufts of bluebells peeked forth from behind the +moss-grown stems of several ancient oaks and elms, and purple +pansies bordered the edge of the grass. A fine old wistaria grown in +tree-form, formed a natural arch of entry to this shady retreat, and +its flowers were just now in their full beauty, hanging in a +magnificent profusion of pale mauve, grapelike bunches from the +leafless stems. Many roses, of the climbing or 'rambling' kind, were +planted here, and John Walden's quick eye soon perceived where a +long green shoot of one of those was loose and waving in the wind to +its own possible detriment. He felt in his pockets for a bit of +roffia or twine to tie up the straying stem,--he was very seldom +without something of the kind for such emergencies, but this time he +only groped among the fragments of Sir Morton Pippitt's note and +found nothing useful. Stepping out on the path again, he looked +about him and caught a glimpse of a stooping, bulky form in weather- +beaten garments, planting something in one of the borders at a +little distance. + +"Bainton!" he called. + +The figure slowly raised itself, and as slowly turned its head. + +"Sir!" + +"Just come here and tie this rose up, will you?" + +The individual addressed approached at a very deliberate pace, +dragging out some entangled roffia from his pocket as he came and +severing it into lengths with his teeth. Walden partly prepared his +task for him by holding up the rose branch in the way it should go, +and on his arrival assisted him in the business of securing it to +the knotty bough from which it had fallen. + +"That looks better!" he remarked approvingly, as he stepped back and +surveyed it. "You might do this one at the same time while you are +about it, Bainton." + +And he pointed to a network of 'Crimson rambler' rose-stems which +had blown loose from their moorings and were lying across the grass. + +"This place wants a reg'ler clean out," remarked Bainton then, in +accents of deep disdain, as he stooped to gather up the refractory +branches: "It beats me altogether, Passon, to know what you wants +wi' a forcin' bed for weeds an' stuff in the middle of a decent +garden. That old Wistaria Sinyens (Sinensis) is the only thing here +that is worth keeping. Ah! Y'are a precious sight, y'are!" he +continued, apostrophising the 'rambler' branches--"For all yer green +buds ye ain't a-goin' to do much this year! All sham an' 'umbug, +y'are!--all leaf an' shoot an' no flower,--like a great many people +I knows on--ah!--an' not so far from this village neither! I'd clear +it all out if I was you, Passon,--I would reely now!" + +Walden laughed. + +"Don't open the old argument, Bainton!" he said good-humouredly; "We +have talked of this before. I like a bit of wild Nature sometimes." + +"Wild natur!" echoed Bainton. "Seems to me natur allus wants a bit +of a wash an' brush up 'fore she sits down to her master's table;-- +an' who's 'er master? Man! She's jest like a child comin' out of a +play in the woods, an' 'er 'air's all blown, an' 'er nails is all +dirty. That's natur! Trim 'er up an' curl 'er 'air an' she's worth +looking at. Natur! Lor', Passon, if ye likes wild natur ye ain't got +no call to keep a gard'ner. But if ye pays me an' keeps me, ye must +'spect me to do my duty. Wherefore I sez: why not 'ave this 'ere +musty-fusty place, a reg'ler breedin' 'ole for hinsects, wopses, +'ornits, snails an' green caterpillars--ah! an' I shouldn't wonder +if potato-fly got amongst 'em, too!--why not, I say, have it cleaned +out?" + +"I like it as it is," responded Walden with cheerful +imperturbability, and a smile at the thick-set obstinate-looking +figure of his 'head man about the place' as Bainton loved to be +called. "Have you planted out my phloxes?" + +"Planted 'em out every one," was the reply; "Likewhich the Delphy +Inums. An' I've put enough sweet peas in to supply Covint Garden +market, bearin' in mind as 'ow you sed you couldn't have enough on +'em. Sir Morton Pippitt's Lunnon valet came along while I was a- +doin' of it, an' 'e peers over the 'edge an' 'e sez, sez 'e: +'Weedin' corn, are yer?' 'No, ye gowk,' sez I! 'Ever seen corn at +all 'cept in a bin? Mixed wi' thistles, mebbe?' An' then he used a +bit of 'is master's or'nary language, which as ye knows, Passon, is +chice--partic'ler chice. 'Evil communications c'rupts good manners' +even in a valet wot 'as no more to do than wash an' comb a man like +a 'oss, an' pocket fifty pun a year for keepin' of 'is haristocratic +master clean. Lor'!--what a wurrld it is!--what a wurrld!" + +He had by this time tied up the 'Crimson rambler' in orderly +fashion, and the Reverend John, stroking his moustache to hide a +smile, proceeded to issue various orders according to his usual +daily custom. + +"Don't forget to plant some mignonette in the west border, Bainton. +Not the giant kind,--the odour of the large blooms is rough and +coarse compared with that of the smaller variety. Put plenty of the +'common stuff' in,--such mignonette as our grandmothers grew in +their gardens, before you Latin-loving horticultural wise-acres +began to try for size rather than sweetness." + +Bainton drew himself up with a quaint assumption of dignity, and by +lifting his head a little more, showed his countenance fully,--a +countenance which, though weather-worn and deeply furrowed, was a +distinctly intelligent one, shrewd and thoughtful, with sundry +little curves of humour lighting up its native expression of +saturnine sedateness. + +"I suppose y'are alludin' to the F.R.H.'s, Passon," he said; "They +all loves Latin, as cats loves milk; howsomever, they never knows +'ow to pronounce it. Likewhich myself not bein' a F.R.H. nor likely +to be, I'm bound to confess I dabbles in it a bit,--though there's a +chap wot I gets cheap shrubs of, his Latin's worse nor mine, an' +'e's got all the three letters after 'is name. 'Ow did 'e get 'em? +By reason of competition in the Chrysanthum Show. Lor'! Henny fool +can grow ye a chrysanthum as big as a cabbage, if that's yer fancy,- +-that ain't scientific gard'nin'! An' as for the mignonette, I +reckon to agree wi' ye, Passon--the size ain't the sweetness, +likewhich when I married, I married a small lass, for sez I: 'Little +to carry, less to keep!' An' that's true enough, though she's gained +in breadth, Lor' love 'er!--wot she never 'ad in heighth. As I was +a-sayin', the chap wot I gets shrubs of, reels off 'is Latin like +chollops of mud off a garden scraper; but 'e don't understand it +while 'e sez it. Jes' for show, bless ye! It all goes down wi' Sir +Morton Pippitt, though, for 'e sez, sez 'e: 'MY cabbages are the +prize vegetable, grown by Mr. Smogorton of Worcester, F.R.H.' 'E's +got it in 'is Catlog! Hor!--hor!--hor! Passon, a bit o' Latin do go +down wi' some folks in the gard'nin' line--it do reely now!" + +"Talking of Sir Morton Pippitt," said Walden, disregarding his +gardener's garrulity, "It seems he has visitors up at the Hall." + +"'E 'as so," returned Bainton; "Reg'ler weedy waifs an' strays o' +'umanity, if one may go by out'ard appearance; not a single firm, +well-put-down leg among 'em. Mos'ly 'lords' and 'sirs.' Bein' so +jes' lately knighted for buildin' a 'ospital at Riversford, out of +the proceeds o' bone meltin' into buttons, Sir Morton couldn't a' +course, be expected to put up wi' a plain 'mister' takin' food wi' +'im." + +"Well, well,--whoever they are, they want to see the church." + +"Seems to me a sight o' folks wants to see the church since ye spent +so much money on it, Passon," said Bainton somewhat resentfully; +"There oughter be a charge made for entry." + +Walden smiled thoughtfully; but there was a small line of vexation +on his brow. + +"They want to see the church," he repeated, "Or rather Sir Morton +wants them to 'inspect' the church;"--and then his smile expanded +and became a soft mellow laugh; "What a pompous old fellow it is! +One would almost think he had restored the church himself, and not +only restored it, but built it altogether and endowed it!" He turned +to go, then suddenly bethought himself of other gardening matters,-- +"Bainton, that bare corner near the house must be filled with +clematis. The plants are just ready to bed out. And look to the +geraniums in the front border. By the way, do you see that straight +line along the wall there,--where I am pointing?" + +"Yes, sir!" dutifully rejoined Bainton, shading his eyes from the +strong sun with one grimy hand. + +"Well, plant nothing but hollyhocks there,--as many as you can cram +in. We must have a blaze of colour to contrast with those dark yews. +See to the jessamine and passion-flowers by the porch; and there is +a 'Gloire' rose near the drawing-room window that wants cutting back +a bit." He moved a step or two, then again turned: "I shall want you +later on in the orchard,--the grass there needs attending to." + +A slow grin pervaded Bainton's countenance. + +"Ye minds me of the 'Oly Scripter, Passon, ye does reely now!" he +said--"Wi' all yer different orders an' idees, y'are behavin' to me +like the very moral o' the livin' Wurrd!" + +Walden looked amused. + +"How do you make that out?" + +"Easy enough, sir,--'The Scripter moveth us in sun'ry places'! Hor!- +hor!-hor!--"and Bainton burst into a hoarse chuckle of mirth, +entirely delighted with his own witticism, and walked off, not +waiting to see whether its effect on his master was one of offence +or appreciation. He was pretty sure of his ground, however, for he +left John Walden laughing, a laugh that irradiated his face with +some of the sunshine stored up in his mind. And the sparkle of mirth +still lingered in his eyes as, crossing the lawn and passing the +seat where the volume of Epictetus lay, now gratuitously decorated +by a couple of pale pink shell-like petals dropped from the apple- +blossoms above it, he entered his house, and proceeding to his study +sat down and wrote the following brief epistle: + +"The Reverend John Walden presents his compliments to Sir Morton +Pippitt, and in reply to his note begs to say that, as the church is +always open and free, Sir Morton and his friends can 'inspect' it at +any time provided no service is in progress." + +Putting this in an envelope, he sealed and stamped it. It should go +by post, and Sir Morton would receive it next morning. There was no +need for a 'special messenger,' either in the person of Bob Keeley, +or in the authorised Puck of the Post Office Messenger-service. + +"For there is not the slightest hurry," he said to himself: "It will +not hurt Sir Morton to be kept waiting. On the contrary, it will do +him good. He had it all his own way in this parish before I came,-- +but now for the past ten years he has known what it is to 'kick +against the pricks' of legitimate Church authority. Legitimate +Church authority is a fine thing! Half the Churchmen in the world +don't use it, and a goodly portion of the other half misuse it. But +when you've got a bumptious, purse-proud, self-satisfied old county +snob like Sir Morton Pippitt to deal with, the pressure of the iron +hand should be distinctly exercised under the velvet glove!" + +He laughed heartily, throwing back his head with a sense of +enjoyment in his laughter. Then, rising from his desk, he turned +towards the wide latticed doors of his study, which opened into the +garden, and looked out dreamily, as though looking across the world +and far beyond it. The sweet mixed warbling of birds, the thousand +indistinguishable odours of flowers, made the air both fragrant and +musical. The glorious sunshine, the clear blue sky, the rustling of +the young leaves, the whispering swish of the warm wind through the +shrubberies,--all these influences entered the mind and soul of the +man and aroused a keen joy which almost touched the verge of +sadness. Life pulsated about him in such waves of creative passion, +that his own heart throbbed uneasily with Nature's warm +restlessness; and the unanswerable query which, in spite of his high +and spiritual faith had often troubled him, came back again +hauntingly to his mind,--"Why should Life be made so beautiful only +to end in Death?" + +This was the Shadow that hung over all things; this was the one +darkness he and others of his calling were commissioned to transfuse +into light,--this was the one dismal end for all poor human +creatures which he, as a minister of the Gospel was bound to try and +represent as not an End but a Beginning,--and his soul was moved to +profound love and pity as he raised his eyes to the serene heavens +and asked himself: "What compensation can all the most eloquent +teaching and preaching make to men for the loss of the mere +sunshine? Can the vision of a world beyond the grave satisfy the +heart so much as this one perfect morning of May!" + +An involuntary sigh escaped him. The beating wings of a swallow +flying from its nest under the old gabled eaves above him flashed a +reflex of quivering light against his eyes; and away in the wide +meadow beyond, where the happy cattle wandered up to their fetlocks +in cowslips and lush grass, the cuckoo called with cheerful +persistence. One of old Chaucer's quaintly worded legends came to +his mind,--telling how the courtly knight Arcite, + + "Is risen, and looketh on the merrie daye + All for to do his observance to Maye,-- + And to the grove of which that I you told, + By aventure his way he gan to hold + To maken him a garland of the greves, + Were it of woodbind or of hawthorn leaves, + And loud he sung against the sunny sheen,-- + 'O Maye with all thy flowers and thy green, + Right welcome be thou, faire, freshe, Maye! + I hope that I some green here getten may!" + +Smiling at the antique simplicity and freshness of the lines as they +rang across his brain like the musical jingle of an old-world +spinet, his ears suddenly caught the sound of young voices singing +at a distance. + +"Here come the children!" he said; and stepping out from his open +window into the garden, he again bent his ear to listen. The +tremulous voices came nearer and nearer, and words could now be +distinguished, breaking through the primitive quavering melody of +'The Mayers' Song' known to all the country side since the +thirteenth century: + + "Remember us poor Mayers all.-- + And thus do we begin, + To lead our lives in righteousness, + Or else we die in sin. + + We have been rambling all this night, + And almost all this day, + And now returning back again, + We bring you in the May. + + The hedges and trees they are so green, + In the sunne's goodly heat, + Our Heavenly Father He watered them + With His Heavenly dew so sweet. + + A branch of May we have brought you---" + +Here came a pause and the chorus dropped into an uncertain murmur. +John Walden heard his garden gates swing back on their hinges, and a +shuffling crunch of numerous small feet on the gravel path. + +"G'arn, Susie!" cried a shrill boy's voice--"If y'are leadin' us, +lead! G'arn!" + +A sweet flute-like treble responded to this emphatic adjuration, +singing alone, clear and high, + + "A branch of May---" and then all the other voices chimed in: + + "A branch of May we have brought you + And at your door it stands, + 'Tis but a sprout, + But 'tis budded out + By the work of our Lord's hands!" + +And with this, a great crown of crimson and white blossoms, set on a +tall, gaily-painted pole and adorned with bright coloured ribbons, +came nid-nodding down the box-tree alley to the middle of the lawn +opposite Walden's study window, where it was quickly straightened up +and held in position by the eager hands of some twenty or thirty +children, of all sizes and ages, who, surrounding it at its base, +turned their faces, full of shy exultation towards their pastor, +still singing, but in more careful time and tune: + + "The Heavenly gates are open wide, + Our paths are beaten plain, + And if a man be not too far gone, + He may return again. + + The moon shines bright and the stars give light + A little before it is day, + So God bless you all, both great and small, + And send you a merrie May!" + + + + +II + + +For a moment or two Walden found himself smitten by so strong a +sense of the mere simple sensuous joy of living, that he could do no +more than stand looking in silent admiration at the pretty group of +expectant young creatures gathered round the Maypole, and huddled, +as it were, under its cumbrous crown of dewy blossoms, which showed +vividly against the clear sky, while the long streamers of red, +white and blue depending from its summit, trailed on the daisy- +sprinkled grass at their feet. + +Every little face was familiar and dear to him. That awkward lad, +grinning from ear to ear, with a particularly fine sprig of +flowering hawthorn in his cap, was Dick Styles;--certainly a very +different individual to Chaucer's knight, Arcite, but resembling him +in so far that he had evidently gone into the woods early, moved by +the same desire: "I hope that I some green here getten may!" That +tiny girl, well to the front, with a clean white frock on and no hat +to cover her tangle of golden curls, was Baby Hippolyta,--the last, +the very last, of the seemingly endless sprouting olive branches of +the sexton, Adam Frost. Why the poor child had been doomed to carry +the name of Hippolyta, no one ever knew. When he, Walden, had +christened her, he almost doubted whether he had heard the lengthy +appellation aright, and ventured to ask the godmother of the +occasion to repeat it in a louder voice. Whereupon 'Hip-po-ly-ta' +was uttered in such strong tones, so thoroughly well enunciated, +that he could no longer mistake it, and the helpless infant, +screaming lustily, left the simple English baptismal font burdened +with a purely Greek designation. She was, however, always called +'Ipsie' by her playmates, and even her mother and father, who were +entirely responsible for her name in the first instance, found it +somewhat weighty for daily utterance and gladly adopted the simpler +sobriquet, though the elders of the village generally were rather +fond of calling her with much solemn unction: 'Baby Hippolyta,' as +though it were an elaborate joke. Ipsie was one of the loveliest +children in the village, and though she was only two-and-a-half +years old, she was fully aware of her own charms. She was pushed to +the front of the Maypole this morning, merely because she was +pretty,--and she knew it. That was why she lifted the extreme edge +of her short skirt and put it in her mouth, thereby displaying her +fat innocent bare legs extensively, and smiled at the Reverend John +Walden out of the uplifted corners of her forget-me-not blue eyes. +Then there was Bob Keeley, more or less breathless with excitement, +having just got back again from Badsworth Hall, his friend the +butcher boy having driven him to and from that place 'in a jiffy' as +he afterwards described it,--and there was a very sparkling, +smiling, vivacious little person of about fifteen, in a lilac cotton +frock, who wore a wreath of laburnum on her black curls, no other +than Kitty Spruce, generally alluded to in the village as 'Bob +Keeley's gel';--and standing near Baby Hippolyta, or 'Ipsie,' was +the acknowledged young beauty of the place, Susie Prescott, a slip +of a lass with a fair Madonna-like face, long chestnut curls and +great, dark, soft eyes like pansies filled with dew. Susie had a +decided talent for music,--she sang very prettily, and led the +village choir, under the guidance of Miss Janet Eden, the +schoolmistress. This morning, however, she was risking the duties of +conductorship on her own account, and very sweet she looked in her +cheap white nuns-veiling gown, wearing a bunch of narcissi +carelessly set in her hair and carrying a flowering hazel-wand in +her hand, with which she beat time for her companions as they +followed her bird-like carolling in the 'Mayers' Song.' But just now +all singing had ceased,--and every one of the children had their +round eyes fixed on John Walden with a mingling of timidity, +affection and awe that was very winning and pretty to behold. + +Taking in the whole picture of nature, youth and beauty, as it was +set against the pure background of the sky, Walden realised that he +was expected to say something,--in fact, he had been called upon to +say something every year at this time, but he had never been able to +conquer the singular nervousness which always overcame him on such +occasions. It is one thing to preach from a pulpit to an assembled +congregation who are prepared for orthodoxy and who are ready to +listen with more or less patience to the expounding of the same,-- +but it is quite another to speak to a number of girls and boys all +full of mirth and mischief, and as ready for a frolic as a herd of +young colts in a meadow. Especially when it happens that most of the +girls are pretty, and when, as a clergyman and director of souls, +one is conscious that the boys are more or less all in love with the +girls,--that one is a bachelor,--getting on in years too;--and that- +-chiefest of all--it is May-morning! One may perhaps be conscious of +a contraction at the heart,--a tightening of the throat,--even a +slight mist before the eyes may tease and perplex such an one--who +knows? A flash of lost youth may sting the memory,--a boyish craving +for love and sympathy may stir the blood, and may make the gravest +parson's speech incoherent,--for after all, even a minister of the +Divine is but a man. + +At any rate the Reverend John found it difficult to begin. The round +forget-me-not eyes of Baby Hippolyta stared into his face with +relentless persistency,--the velvet pansy-coloured ones of Susie +Prescott smiled confidingly up at him with a bewildering +youthfulness and unconsciousness of charm; and the mischief-loving +small boys and village yokels who stood grouped against the Maypole +like rough fairy foresters guarding magic timber, were, with all the +rest of the children, hushed into a breathless expectancy, waiting +eagerly for 'Passon' to speak. And 'Passon' thereupon began,--in the +lamest, feeblest, most paternally orthodox manner: + +"My dear children--" + +"Hooray! Hooray! Three cheers for 'Passon'! Hooray!" + +Wild whooping followed, and the Maypole rocked uneasily, and began +to slant downward in a drunken fashion, like a convivial giant whom +strong wine has made doubtful of his footing. + +"Take care, you young rascals!" cried Walden, letting sentiment, +orthodoxy and eloquence go to the winds,--"You will have the whole +thing down!" + +Peals of gay laughter responded, and the nodding mass of bloom was +swiftly pulled up and assisted to support its necessary horizontal +dignity. But here Baby Hippolyta suddenly created a diversion. Moved +perhaps by the consciousness of her own beauty, or by the general +excitement around her, she suddenly waved a miniature branch of +hawthorn and emitted a piercing yell. + +"Passon! Tum 'ere! Passon! Tum 'ere!" + +There was no possibility of 'holding forth' after this. A. short +address on the brevity of life, as being co-equal with the +evanescent joys of a Maypole, would hardly serve,--and a fatherly +ambition as to the unbecoming attitude of mendi-cancy assumed by +independent young villagers carrying a great crown of flowers round +to every house in the neighbourhood, and demanding pence for the +show, would scarcely be popular. Because what did the 'Mayers' Song +say: + +"The Heavenly gates are opened wide, Our paths are beaten plain; And +if a man be not too far gone, He may return again." + +And the 'Heavenly gates' of Spring being wide open, the Reverend +John, thought his special path was 'beaten plain' for the occasion; +and not being 'too far gone' either in bigotry or lack of heart, +John did what he reverently imagined the Divine Master might have +done when He 'took a little child and set it in the midst." He +obeyed Baby Hippolyta's imperious command, and to her again loudly +reiterated "Passon! Tum 'ere!" he sprang forward and caught her up +in his arms, kissing her rosy cheeks heartily as he did so. Seated +in 'high exalted state' upon his shoulder. 'Ipsie' became Hippolyta +in good earnest, so thoroughly aware was she of her dignity, while, +holding her as lightly and buoyantly as he would have held a bird, +the Reverend John turned his smiling face on his young parishioners. + +"Come along, boys and girls!" he exclaimed,--"Come and plant the +Maypole in the big meadow yonder, as you did last year! It is a +holiday for us all to-day,--for me as well as for you! It has always +been a holiday even before the days when great Elizabeth was Queen +of England, and though many dear old customs have fallen into disuse +with the changing world, St. Rest has never yet been robbed of its +May-day festival! Be thankful for that, children!--and come along;-- +but move carefully!--keep order,--and sing as you come!" + +Whereupon Susie Prescott lifted up her pretty voice again and her +hazel wand baton at the same moment, and started the chorus with the +verse: + +"We have been rambling all this night, And almost all this day; And +now returning back again, We bring you in the May!" + +And thus carolling, they passed through the garden moving meadow- +wards, Walden at the head of the procession,--and Baby Hippolyta +seated on his shoulder, was so elated with the gladsome sights and +sounds, that she clasped her chubby arms round 'Passon's' neck and +kissed him with a fervour that was as fresh and delightful as it was +irresistibly comic. + +Bainton, making his way along the southern wall of the orchard, to +take a 'glance round' as he termed it, at the condition of the wall +fruit-trees before his master joined him on the usual morning tour +of inspection, stopped and drew aside to watch the merry procession +winding along under the brown stems dotted with thousands of red +buds splitting into pink-and-white bloom; and a slow smile moved the +furrows of his face upward in various pleasant lines as he saw the +'Passon' leading it with a light step, carrying the laughing 'Ipsie' +on his shoulder, and now and again joining in the 'Mayers' Song' +with a mellow baritone voice that warmed and sustained the whole +chorus. + +"There 'e goes!" he said half aloud--"Jes' like a boy!--for all the +wurrld like a boy! I reckon 'e's got the secret o' never growin' +old, for all that 'is 'air's turnin' a bit grey. 'Ow many passons in +this 'ere neighbrood would carry the children like that, I wonder? +Not one on 'em!--though there's a many to pick an' choose from--a +darned sight too many if you axes my opinion! Old Putty Leveson, +wi's bobbin' an' 'is bowin's to the east--hor!--hor!--hor!--a fine +east 'e's got in 'is mouldy preachin' barn, wi' a whitewashed wall +an' a dirty bit o' tinsel fixed up agin it--he wouldn't touch a +child o' ourn, to save 'is life--though 'e's got three or four mean, +lyin' pryin' brats of 'is own runnin' wild about the place as might +jest as well 'ave never been born. And as for Francis Anthony, the +'igh pontiff o' Riversford, wi's big altar-cloak embrided for 'im by +all the poor skinny spinsters wot ain't never 'ad no chance to +marry--'e'd see all the children blowed to bits under the walls of +Jericho to the sound o' the trumpets afore 'e'd touch 'em! Talk o' +saints!--I'm not very good at unnerstannin' that kind o' folk, not +seein' myself 'owever a saint could manage to get on in this mortal +wurrld; but I reckon to think there's a tollable imitation o' the +real article in Passon Walden--the jolly sort o' saint, o' coorse,-- +not the prayin', whinin', snuffin' kind. 'E's been doin' nothin' but +good ever since 'e came 'ere, which m'appen partly from 'is not +bein' married. If 'e'd gotten a wife, the place would a' been awsome +different. Not but wot 'e ain't a bit cranky over 'is, flowers +'isself. But I'd rather 'ave 'im fussin' round than a petticut arter +me. A petticut at 'ome's enough, an' I ain't complainin' on it, +though it's a bit breezy sometimes,--but a petticut in the gard'nin' +line would drive me main wild--it would reely now!" + +And still smiling with perfect complacency, he watched the Maypole +being carried carefully along the space of grass left open between +the fruit trees on either side of the orchard, and followed its +bright patch of colour and the children's faces and forms around it, +till it entirely disappeared among the thicker green of a clump of +elms that bordered the 'big meadow,' which Walden generally kept +clear of both crops and cattle for the benefit of the village sports +and pastimes. + +He was indeed the only land-owner in the district who gave any +consideration of this kind to the needs of the people. St. Rest was +surrounded on all sides by several large private properties, richly +wooded, and possessing many acres of ploughed and pasture land, but +there was no public right-of-way across any single one of them, and +every field, every woodland path, every tempting dell was rigidly +fenced and guarded from 'vulgar' intrusion. None of the proprietors +of these estates, however, appeared to take the least personal joy +or pride in their possessions. They were for the most part away in +London for 'the season' or abroad 'out' of the season,--and their +extensive woods appeared to exist chiefly for the preservation of +game, reared solely to be shot by a few idle louts of fashion during +September and October, and also for the convenience and support of a +certain land agent, one Oliver Leach, who cut down fine old timber +whenever he needed money, and thought it advisable to pocket the +proceeds of such devastation. + +Scarcely in one instance out of a hundred did the actual owners of +property miss the trees sufficiently to ask what had become of them. +So long as the game was all right, they paid little heed to the +rest. The partridges and the pheasants thrived, and so did Mr. +Oliver Leach. He enjoyed, however, the greatest unpopularity of any +man in the neighbourhood, which was some small comfort to those who +believed in the laws of compensation and justice. Bainton was his +particular enemy for one, and Bainton's master, John Walden, for +another. His long-practised 'knavish tricks' and the malicious +delight he took in trying to destroy or disfigure the sylvan beauty +of the landscape by his brutish ignorance of the art of forestry, +combined with his own personal greed, were beginning to be well- +known in St. Rest, and it is very certain that on May-morning when +the youngsters of the village were abroad and, to a great extent, +had it all their own way, (aided and abetted in that way by the +recognised authority of the place, the minister himself,) he would +never have dared to show his hard face and stiffly upright figure +anywhere, lest he should be unmercifully 'guyed' without a chance of +rescue or appeal. + +With the disappearance of the Maypole into the further meadow, +Bainton likewise disappeared on his round of duty, which, as he had +declared, moved him 'in sundry places,' and for a little while the +dove-like spirit of Spring brooded in restful silence over the quiet +orchard and garden. + +The singing of the May-day children had now grown so faint and far +as to be scarcely audible,--and the call of the cuckoo shrilling +above the plaintive murmur of the wood pigeons, soon absorbed even +the echo of the young human voices passing away. A light breeze +stirred the tender green grass, shaking down a shower of pink almond +bloom as it swept fan-like through the luminous air,--a skylark half +lost in the brilliant blue, began to descend earthwards, flinging +out a sparkling fountain of music with every quiver of his jewel- +like wings, and away in the sheltered shade of a small hazel copse, +the faint fluty notes of a nightingale trembled with a mysterious +sweetness suggestive of evening, when the song should be full. + +More than an hour elapsed, and no living being entered the seclusion +of the parson's garden save Nebbie, the parson's rough Aberdeen +terrier, who, appearing suddenly at the open study-window, sniffed +at the fair prospect for a moment, and then, stepping out with a +leisurely air of proprietorship lay down on the grass in the full +sunshine. A wise-looking dog was Nebbie,--though few would have +thought that his full name was Nebuchadnezzar. Only the Reverend +John knew that. Nebbie was perfectly aware that the children had +come with the Maypole, and that his master had accompanied them to +the big meadow. Nebbie also knew that presently that same master of +his would return again to make the circuit of the garden in the +company of Bainton, according to custom,--and as he stretched his +four hairy paws out comfortably, and blinked his brown eyes at a +portly blackbird prodding in the turf for a worm within a stone's +throw of him, he was evidently considering whether it would be worth +his while, as an epicurean animal, to escort these two men on their +usual round on such a warm pleasant morning. For it was a dog's real +lazy day,--a day when merely to lie on the grass was sufficient +satisfaction for the canine mind. And Nebbie, yawning extensively, +and stretching himself a little more, closed his eyes in a rapture +of peace, and stirred his tail slightly with one, two, three mild +taps on the soft grass, when a sudden clear whistle caused him to +spring up with every hair bristling on end, fore-paws well forward +and eyes wide open. + +"Nebbie! Nebbie!" + +Nebbie was nothing if not thoroughbred, and the voice of his master +was, despite all considerations of sleep and sunshine, to him as the +voice of the commanding officer to a subaltern. He was off like a +shot at a tearing pace, nose down and tail erect, and in less than a +minute had scented Walden in the shrubbery, which led by devious +windings down from the orchard to the banks of the river Rest, and +there finding him, started frantically gambolling round and round +him, as though years had parted man and dog from one another, +instead of the brief space of an hour. Walden was smiling to +himself, and his countenance was extremely pleasant. Nebbie, with +the quaint conceit common to pet animals, imagined that the smile +was produced specially for him, and continued his wild jumps and +barks till his red tongue hung a couple of inches out of his mouth +with excess of heat and enthusiasm. + +"Nebbie! Nebbie!" said the Reverend John, mildly; "Don't make such a +noise! Down, lad, down!" + +Nebbie subsided, and on reaching the river bank, squatted on his +haunches, with his tongue still lolling out, while he watched his +master step on a small floating pier attached by iron chains and +posts to the land, and bend therefrom over into the clear water, +looking anxiously downward to a spot he well knew, where hundreds of +rare water-lilies were planted deep in the bed of the stream. + +"Nymphea Odorata,"--he murmured, in the yearning tone of a lover +addressing his beloved;--"Nymphea Chromatella--now I wonder if I +shall see anything of them this year! The Aurora Caroliniana must +have been eaten up by water-rats!" + +Nebbie uttered a short bark. The faintest whisper of 'rats' +seriously affected his nerves. He could have told his master many a +harrowing story of those mischievous creatures swimming to and fro +in the peaceful flood, tearing with their sharp teeth at the lily +roots, and making a horrible havoc of all the most perfect buds of +promise. The river Rest itself was so clear and bright that it was +difficult to associate rats with its silver flowing,--yet rats there +were, hiding among the osiers and sedges, frightening the moorhens +and reed-warblers out of their little innocent lives. Nebbie caught +and killed them whenever he could,--but he had no particular taste +for swimming, and he was on rather 'strained relations' with a pair +of swans who, with a brood of cygnets kept fierce guard on the +opposite bank against all unwelcome intrusion. + +His careful examination of the lily beds done, John Walden sprang +back again from the pier to the land, and there hesitated a moment. +His eyes rested longingly on a light punt, which, running half out +of a rustic boathouse, swayed suggestively on the gleaming water. + +"I wish I had time,--" he said, half aloud, while Nebbie wagging his +tail violently, sat waiting and expectant. The river looked +deliciously tempting. The young green of the silver birches drooping +above its shining surface, the lights and shadows rippling across it +with every breath of air,--the skimming of swallows to and fro,--the +hum of bees among the cowslips, thyme and violets that were pushing +fragrantly through the clipped turf,--were all so many wordless +invitations to him to go forth into the fair freedom of Nature. + +"The green trees whispered low and mild, It was a sound of joy! They +were my playmates when a child, And rocked me in their arms so wild! +Still they looked on me and smiled As if I were a boy!" + +Such simple lines,--by Longfellow too, the despised of all the Sir +Oracles of criticism,--yet coming to Walden's memory suddenly, they +touched a chord of vivid emotion. + +"And still they whispered soft and low! Oh, I could not choose but +go!" + +he hummed half under his breath, and then with a decided movement +turned from the winding river towards the house. + +"No, Nebbie, it's no use," he said aloud, addressing his four-footed +comrade, who thereupon got up reluctantly and began to trot +pensively beside him--"We mustn't be selfish. There are a thousand +and one things to do. There is dinner to be served to the children +at two o'clock--there is Mrs. Keeley to call upon--there are the +school accounts to be looked into,--" here he glanced at his watch-- +" Good Heavens!--how time flies! It is half-past eleven! I shall +have to see Bainton later on." + +He hurried his steps and was just in sight of his study window, when +he was met by his parlourmaid, a neat, trim young woman who rejoiced +in the euphonious name of Hester Rockett, and who said as she +approached him: + +"If you please, sir, Mrs. Spruce." + +His genial face fell a little, and he heaved a short sigh. + +"Mrs. Spruce? Oh, Lord!--I mean, very well! Show her in, Hester. You +are sure she wants to see me? Or is it her girl Kitty she is after?" + +"She didn't mention Kitty, sir," replied Hester demurely; "She said +she wished to see you very particular." + +"All right! Show her into my study, and afterwards just go round to +the orchard and tell Bainton I will see him when he's had his +dinner. I know I sha'n't get off under an hour at least!" + +He sighed again, then smiled, and entered the house, Nebbie sedately +following. Arrived in his own quiet sanctum, he took off his soft +slouched hat and seated himself at his desk with a composed air of +patient attention, as the door was opened to admit a matronly- +looking lady with a round and florid countenance, clad in a +voluminous black gown, and wearing a somewhat aggressive black +bonnet, 'tipped' well forward, under which her grey hair was +plastered so far back as to be scarcely visible. There was a certain +aggrieved dignity about her, and a generally superior tone of self- +consciousness even in the curtsey which she dropped respectfully, as +she returned Walden's kindly nod and glance. + +"Good morning, Mrs. Spruce!" + +"Good morning, sir! I trust I see you well, sir?" + +"Thank you, Mrs. Spruce, I am very well." + +"Which is a mercy indeed!" said Mrs. Spruce fervently; "For we never +knows from one day to another whether we may be sound or crippled, +considering the diseases which now flies in the air with the dust in +the common road, as the papers tell us,--and dust is a thing we +cannot prevent, do what we may, for the dust is there by the will of +the Almighty, Who made us all out of it." + +She paused. John Walden smiled and pointed to a chair, + +"Won't you sit down, Mrs. Spruce?" + +"Thank you kindly, sir!" and Mrs. Spruce accordingly plumped into +the seat indicated with evident relief and satisfaction. "I will +confess that it is a goodish step to walk on such a warm morning." + +"You have come straight from the Manor?" enquired Walden, turning +over a few papers on his desk, and wondering within himself when the +good woman was going to unburden herself of her business. + +"Straight from the Manor, sir, yes,--and such a heat and moil I +never felt on any May morning, which is most onwholesome, I am sure. +A cold May and a warm June is what I prefers myself,--but when you +get the cuckoo and the nightingale clicketin' together in the woods +on the First of May, you can look out for quarrelsome weather at +Midsummer, leastways so I have heard my mother often say, and she +was considered a wise woman in her time, I do assure you!" + +Here Mrs. Spruce untied her bonnet-strings and flung them apart,-- +she likewise loosened the top button of her collar and heaved a deep +sigh. Again the Reverend John smiled, and vaguely balanced a +penholder on his fore-finger. + +"I daresay your mother was quite right, Mrs. Spruce! Indeed, I +believe all our mothers were quite right in their day. All the same, +I'm glad it's a fine May morning', for the children's sakes. They +are all down in the big meadow having a romp together. Your little +Kitty is with them, looking as bright as a May blossom herself." + +Mrs. Spruce straightened herself up, patted her ample bosom, with +one hand, and threw her bonnet-strings still further back. + +"Kitty's a good lass," she said, "though a bit mettlesome and wild; +but I'm not saying anything again her. The Lord forbid that I should +run down my own flesh and blood! An' she's better than most gels of +her age. I wouldn't grudge her a bit of fun while she's got it in +her,--Heaven knows it'll be soon gone out of her when she marries, +which nat'rally she will do, sooner or later. Anyhow, she's all I've +got,--which is a marvel how the Lord deals with some of us, when you +see a little chidester of a woman like Adam Frost's wife with +fifteen, boys and girls, and me with only one nesh maid." + +Walden was silent. He was not disposed to argue on such marvels of +the Lord's way, as resulted in endowing one family with fifteen +children, and the other with only a single sprout, such as was +accorded to the righteous Jephthah, judge of Israel. + +"Howsomever," continued Mrs. Spruce, "Kitty's welcome to jump round +the Maypole till she's wore her last pair of boots out, if so be +it's your wish, Mr. Walden,--and many thanks to you, sir, for all +your kindness to her!" + +"Don't mention it, Mrs. Spruce!" said Walden amicably, and then, +determining to bring the worthy woman sharply round to the real +object of her visit, he gave a side-glance at the clock. "Is there +anything you want me to do for you this morning? I'm rather busy--" + +"Beggin' your pardon, I'm sure, sir, for troubling you at all!-- +knowin' as I do that what with the moithering old folks and the +maupsing young ones, your 'ands is always full. But when I got the +letter this morning, I says to my husband, William--'William,' says +I, very loud, for the poor creature's growing so deaf that by and by +I shall be usin' a p'lice whistle to make him 'ear me--'William,' +says I, 'there is only one man in this village who's got the right +to give advice when advice is asked for. Of course there's no call +for us to follow advice, even when we gets it,--howsomever, it's +only respectable for decent church-going folks to see the minister +of the parish whenever there's any fear of our makin' a slip of our +souls and goin' wrong. Therefore, William,' says I, shaking him By +the arm to make the poor silly fool understand me, 'it's to Passon +Walden I'm goin' this mornin' with this letter,--to Passon Walden, +d'ye 'ear?' And he nodded his head wise-like, for all the world as +though there were a bit of sense in it, (which there ain't), and +agrees with me;--for the Lord, knows, if William doesn't, that it +may make an awsome change for him as well as for me. And I do +confess I've been took back." + +Following as best he could the entangled thread of the estimable +lady's discourse, Walden grasped the fact, albeit vaguely, that some +unexpected letter with unexpected news in it had arrived to trouble +the Spruces' domestic peace. Suppressing a slight yawn, he +endeavoured to assume the proper show of interest which every +village parson is expected to display on the shortest notice +concerning any subject, from the birth of the latest baby +parishioner, to the death of the earliest sucking pig. + +"I'm sorry you're in trouble, Mrs. Spruce," he said kindly; "What +letter are you speaking of? You see I don't quite understand--" + +"Which it's not to be expected you should, sir!" replied Mrs. Spruce +with an air of triumph,--"Considerin' as you wer'n't here when she +left, and the Manor has been what you may call a stately 'ome of +England deserted as most stately 'omes are, for more'n ten years, +you couldn't be expected to understand!" + +The Reverend John looked as he felt, completely mystified. He +'wasn't here when she left.' Who was 'she'? With all his naturally +sweet temper he began to feel slightly irritated. + +"Really, Mrs. Spruce," he said, endeavouring to throw an inflection +of sternness into his mellow voice, "I must ask you to explain +matters a little more clearly. I know that the Manor has been +practically shut up ever since I've been here,--that you are the +housekeeper in charge, and that your husband is woodman or forester +there,--but beyond this I know nothing. So you must not talk in +riddles, Mrs. Spruce,"--here his kind smile shone out again--"Even +as a boy I was never good at guessing them! And I am getting old +now." + +"So you are, sir--so you are!" agreed Mrs. Spruce sympathetically; +"And 'tis a shame for me to come worryin' of you,--for no one more +truly than myself can feel pity for the weariness of the flesh, when +'tis just a burden to the bones and no pleasure in the carryin' of +it, though you don't put much of it on, Passon Walden, you don't, I +do assure you! But it's Gospel truth that some folks wears thin like +a knife, while others wears thick like a pig, and there is no +stopping them,--either way bein' the Lord's will,--but I'm feelin' +real okkard myself to have put you about, Passon, only as I said, +I've been took back,--and here's the letter, sir, which if you will +kindly glance your hi over, you will tell me whether I've done the +right thing to call on my way down here and get in a couple of +scrubbers at eighteen-pence a day, which is dear, but they won't +come for less, jest to get some of the rough dirt off the floors +afore polishin', which polishin' will have to be done whether we +will or no, for the boards are solid oak, and bein' ancient take the +shine quickly, which is a mercy, for this day week is none too far +off, seein' all that's put upon me suddint." + +Here, being short of breath, she paused, and fumbling in a large +black calico pocket which hung loosely at her side, attached to her +ample waist by a string, she drew out with great care a rather +large, square-looking missive, and then rising from her chair with +much fluttering of her black gown and mysterious creaking sound, as +of tight under-wear strained to breaking point, she held it out +toward Walden, who had durng her last oratorical outburst +unconsciously put his hand to his head in a daze of bewilderment. + +"There is the letter sir," she continued, in the tone of one who +should say: 'There is the warrant for execution'--"'Short and +sweet,' as the farmer's wife said when she ate the pig's tail what +dropped off while the animal was a-roastin'." + +Allowing this brilliant simile to pass without comment, Walden took +the thick, creamy-white object she offered and found himself +considering it with a curious disfavour. It was a strictly +'fashionable' make of envelope, and was addressed in a particularly +bold and assertive hand-writing to + +MRS. SPRUCE, Housekeeper, Abbot's Manor, St. Rest. + +Opening it, the Reverend John read as follows: + +"Miss Vancourt begs to inform Mrs. Spruce that she will arrive at +Abbot's Manor on the 7th inst., to remain there in residence. Mrs. +Spruce is requested to engage the necessary household servants, as +Miss Vancourt will bring none except the groom in charge of her two +hunters." + +Over and over again Walden read this curt and commonplace note, with +a sense of irritation which he knew was perfectly absurd, but which, +nevertheless, defied all reason. The paper on which it was written +was thick and satiny,--and there was a faint artificial odour of +violets about it which annoyed him. He hated scented notepaper. +Deliberately he replaced it in its envelope, and holding it for a +moment as he again studied the superscription, he addressed the +expectant Mrs. Spruce, who had re-seated herself and was waiting for +him to speak. + +"Well, Mrs. Spruce, I don't think you need any advice from me on +such a simple matter as this," he said slowly. "Your duty is quite +plain. You must obey orders. Miss Vancourt is, I suppose, the +mistress of Abbot's Manor?" + +"She is, sir,--of course it all belongs to Miss Maryllia--" + +"Miss--what?" interrupted Walden, with a sudden lightening of his +dark blue eyes. + +"Maryllia, sir. It is a kind of family name, pronounced 'Ma-rill- +yer,'" explained Mrs. Spruce with considerable pomposity; "Many +folks never gets it right--it wants knowledge and practice. But if +you remember the pictures in the gallery at the Manor, sir, you may +call to mind one of the ancestresses of the Vancourts, painted in a +vi'let velvet; ridin' dress and holdin' a huntin' crop, and the name +underneath is 'Mary Ella Adelgisa de Vaignecourt' and it was after +her that the old Squire called his daughter Maryllia, rollin' the +two fust names, Mary Elia, into one, as it were, just to make a name +what none of his forebears had ever had. He was a queer man, the old +Squire--he wouldn't a-cared whether the name was Christian or +heathen." + +"I suppose not." said the Reverend John carelessly, rising and +pushing back his chair with a slightly impatient gesture; whereupon +Mrs. Spruce rose too, and stood 'at attention,' her loosened bonnet- +strings flying and her large black calico pocket well in evidence to +the front of her skirt. + +"Here's your letter, Mrs. Spruce;" and as she took it from his hand +with a curtsey he continued: "There is evidently nothing for it but +to get the house in order by the day appointed and do your best to +please the lady. I can quite understand that you feel a little +worried at having to prepare everything so quickly and +unexpectedly,--but after all, you must have often thought that Miss +Vancourt's return to her old home was likely to happen at any time." + +"Which I never did, sir!" declared Mrs. Spruce emphatically, "No, +sir, never! For when the old Squire died, she was jest a slip of +fifteen and her uncle, the Squire's own twin brother, what had +married an American heiress with somethin' like a hundred million of +money, so I'm told, took her straight away and adopted her like, and +the reg'ler pay for keepin' up the Manor and grounds has been sent +to us through a Bank, and so far we've got nothin' to complain of +bein' all strictly honourable both ways, but of Miss Vancourt we +never heard a thing. And Mr. Oliver Leach he is the agent of the +property, and he ain't never said a word,--and we think, me and my +husband, that he don't know nothin' of her comin' back, and should +we tell him, sir? Or would you reckon that we'd better keep a still +tongue in our heads till she do come? For there's no knowin' why or +wherefore she's comin',--though we did hear her poor uncle died two +years ago, and we wondered where she and her aunt with the hundred +million was got to--but mebbe she'll change her mind and not come, +after all?" + +"I should certainly not count upon that, if I were you, Mrs. +Spruce," said Walden decisively; "Your business is to keep +everything in order for the lady's arrival; but I don't think,--I +really don't think, you are at all bound to inform Mr. Oliver Leach +of the matter. He will no doubt find out for himself. or receive his +orders direct from Miss Vancourt." Here he paused. "How old did you +say she was when, she went away from home?" + +"Fifteen, sir. That was nigh eleven years ago,--just one week after +the Squire's funeral, and a year afore you came here, sir. She's +gettin' on for seven-and-twenty now." + +"Quite a woman, then," said Walden lightly; "Old enough to know her +own mind at any rate. Do you remember her?" + +"Perfectly well, sir,--a little flitterin' creature all eyes and +hair, with a saucy way of tossin' her curls about, and a trick of +singin' and shoutin' all over the place. She used to climb the pine +trees and sit in them and pelt her father with the cones. Oh, yes, +sir, she was a terrible child to rule, and it's Gospel truth there +was no ruling her, for the governesses came and went like the +seasons, one in, t'other out. Ay, but the Lord knows I'll never +forget the scream she gave when the Squire was brought home from the +hunting field stone dead!" + +Here John Walden turned his head towards her with an air of more +interest than he had yet shown. + +"Ah!--How was that?" he enquired. + +"He was killed jumpin' a fence;" went on Mrs. Spruce; "A fine, +handsome gentleman,--they say he'd been wild in his youth; anyhow he +got married in London to a great Court beauty, so I've been told. +And after the wedding, they went travelling allover the world for a +year and a half, and just when they was expected 'ome Mrs. Vancourt +died with the birth of the child, and he and the baby and the nurses +all came back here and he never stirred away again himself till +death took him at full gallop,--which is 'ow he always wished to +die. But poor Miss Maryllia--" And Mrs. Spruce sighed dolefully-- +"'Twas hard on her, seein' him ride off so gay and well and cheery +in the early mornin' to be brought home afore noon a corpse! Ay, it +was an awsome visitation of the Lord! Often when the wind goes +wimblin' through the pines near the house I think I 'ear her shriek +now,--ay, sir!--it was like the cry of somethin' as was havin' its +heart tore out!" + +Walden stood very silent, listening. This narrative was new to him, +and even Mrs. Spruce's manner of relating it was not without a +certain rough eloquence. The ancient history of the Vancourts he +knew as well as he knew the priceless archaeological value of their +old Manor-house as a perfect gem of unspoilt Tudor architecture,-- +but though he had traced the descent of the family from Robert +Priaulx de Vaignecourt of the twelfth century and his brother +Osmonde Priaulx de Vaignecourt who had, it was rumoured, founded a +monastery in the neighbourhood, and had died during a pilgrimage to +the Holy Land, he had ceased to follow the genealogical tree with +much attention or interest when the old Norman name of De +Vaignecourt had degenerated into De Vincourt and finally in the +times of James I. had settled down into Vancourt. Yet there was a +touch of old-world tragedy in Mrs. Spruce's modern history of the +young girl's shriek when she found herself suddenly fatherless on +that fatal hunting morning. + +"And now," continued Mrs. Spruce, coaxing one bonnet-string at a +time off each portly shoulder with considerable difficulty; "I +s'pose I must be goin', Passon Walden, and thank you kindly for all! +It's a great weight off my mind to have told you just what's +'appened, an' the changes likely to come off, and I do assure you +I'm of your opinion, Passon, in letting Oliver Leach shift for +himself, for if so be Miss Vancourt has the will of her own she had +when she was a gel, I shouldn't wonder if there was rough times in +store for him! But the Lord only knows what may chance to all of +us!" and here she heaved another dismal sigh as she tied the +refractory bonnet-strings into a bow under her fat chin. "It's +right-down sinful of me to be wishin' rough times to any man, seein' +I'm likely in for them myself, for a person's bound to be different +at nigh seven-and-twenty to what she was at fifteen, and the modern +ways of leddies ain't old ways, the Lord be merciful to us all! And +I do confess, Passon, it's a bit upsettin' at my time of life to +think as how I've lived in Abbot's Manor all these years, and now +for all I can tell, me and William may have to shift. And where +we'll go, the Lord only knows!" + +"Now don't anticipate misfortune, Mrs. Spruce!" said Walden, +beginning to shake off the indescribable feeling of annoyance +against which he had been fighting for the past few minutes and +resuming his usual quiet air of cheerfulness; "Miss Vancourt is not +likely to dismiss you unless you offend her. The great thing is to +avoid offence,--and to do even more than your strict duty in making +her old home look its best and brightest for her return and--" Here +he hesitated for a moment, then went on--"Of course if I can do +anything to help you, I will." + +"Thank you, sir, I'm sure most kindly," said Mrs. Spruce curtseying +two or three times in a voluminous overflow of gratitude. "I shall +take the liberty of asking you to step up during the week, to see +how things appears to you yourself. And as for servants, there's no +gels old enough at the school for servants, so I'll be goin' to +Riversford with the carrier's cart to-morrow to see what I can do. +Ah, It's an awsome mission I'm goin' on; there ain't no gels to be +got of the old kind, as far as I can make out. They all wants to be +fine leddies nowadays and marry 'Merican millionaires." + +"Not quite so bad as that, I think, Mrs. Spruce!" laughed Walden, +holding open the door of the study for her to pass out, as a broad +hint that the interview must be considered at an end.--"There are +plenty of good, industrious, intelligent girls in England ready and +willing to enter domestic service, if we make it worth their while,- +-and I'm sure no one can teach YOU anything in that line! Good- +morning, Mrs. Spruce!" + +"Good-morning, sir,--and you'll step up to the Manor when convenient +some afternoon?" + +"Certainly, if you wish it. Whenever convenient to yourself, Mrs. +Spruce." + +Mrs. Spruce curtseyed again at the respect for her own importance +which was implied in Walden's last sentence, and slowly sidled out, +the 'Passon' watching her with a smile as she trotted down the +passage from his study to a door which led to the kitchen and +basement. + +"Now she'll go and tell all her story again to Hester and the cook," +he said to himself; "And how she will enjoy herself to be sure! +Bless the woman, what a tongue she has! No wonder her husband is +deaf!" + +He re-seated himself at his desk, and taking up a bundle of accounts +connected with the church and the school, tried to fix his attention +on them, but in vain. His mind wandered. He was obliged to own to +himself that he was unreasonably irritated at the news that Abbot's +Manor, which had been so long a sort of unoccupied 'show' house, was +again to be inhabited,--and by one who was its rightful owner too. +Ever since he had bought the living of St. Rest he had been +accustomed to take many solitary walks through the lovely woods +surrounding the Vancourts' residence, without any fear of being +considered a trespasser,--and he had even strolled through the wide, +old-fashioned gardens with as little restraint as though they had +belonged to himself, Mrs. Spruce, the housekeeper, being the last +person in the world to forbid her minister to enter wherever he +would. He had passed long hours of delightful research in the old +library, and many afternoons of meditation in the picture gallery, +where the portrait of the lady in the 'vi'let velvet,' Mary Elia +Adelgisa de Vaignecourt, had often caught his eye and charmed his +fancy when the setting sun had illumined its rich colouring and had +given life to the face, half-petulant, half-sweet, which pouted +forth from the old canvas like a rose with light on its petals. Now +all these pleasant rambles were finished. The mistress of Abbot's +Manor would certainly object to a wandering parson in her house and +grounds. Probably she was a very imperious, disagreeable young +woman,--full of the light scorn, lack of sentiment and cheap atheism +common to the 'smart' lady of a decadent period, and if it were true +that she had been for so many years in the charge of an American +aunt with a 'hundred millions,' the chances were ten to one that she +would be an exceedingly unpleasant neighbour. + +He gave a short impatient sigh. + +"Ah, well! I only hope she will put a stop to the felling of the +fine old trees in her domain," he said half aloud,--"If no one else +in the village has the pluck to draw her attention to the +depredations of Oliver Leach, I will. But, so far as other matters +go,--my walks in the Manor woods are ended! Yes, Nebbie!" and he +gently patted the head of the faithful animal, who, with inborn +sagacity instinctively guessing that his master was somewhat +annoyed, was clambering with caressing forepaws against his knee. +"Our rambles by the big elms and silvery birches and under the +beautiful tall pines are over, Nebbie! and we shouldn't be human if +we weren't just a trifle sorry! Sir Morton Pippitt is bad enough as +a neighbour, but he's a good three miles off at Badsworth Hall, +thank Heaven!--whereas Abbot's Manor is but a quarter of an hour's +walk from this gate. We've had pleasant times in the dear old- +fashioned gardens, Nebbie, you and I, but it's all over! The +mistress of the Manor is coming home,--and I'm positively certain, +Nebbie,--yes, old boy!--positively certain that we shall both detest +her!" + + + + +III + + +When England's great Queen, Victoria the Good; was still enjoying +her first happy years of wedded life, and society, under her gentle +sway, was less ostentatious and much more sincere in its code of +ethics than it is nowadays, the village of St. Rest, together with +the adjacent post-town of Riversford, enjoyed considerable +importance in county chronicles. Very great 'county personages' were +daily to be seen comporting themselves quite simply among their own +tenantry, and the Riversford Hunt Ball annually gathered together a +veritable galaxy of 'fair women and brave men' who loved their +ancestral homes better than all the dazzle and movement of town, and +who possessed for the most part that 'sweet content' which gives +strength to the body and elasticity to the mind. There was then a +natural gaiety and spontaneous cheerfulness in English country life +that made such a life good for human happiness; and the jolly +Squires who with their 'dames' kept open house and celebrated +Harvest Home and Christmas Festival with all the buoyancy and vigour +of a sane and healthful manhood undeteriorated by any sickly taint +of morbid pessimism and indifferent inertia, were the beneficent +rulers of a merrier rural population than has ever been seen since +their day. Squire Vancourt the elder, grandfather of the present +heiress of Abbot's Manor, had been a splendid specimen of 'the fine +old English gentleman, all of the olden time,' and his wife, one of +the handsomest, as well as one of the kindest-hearted women that +ever lived, had been justly proud of her husband, devoted to her +children, and a true friend and benefactress to the neighbourhood. +Her four sons, two of whom were twins, all great strapping lads, +built on their vigorous father's model, were considered the best- +looking young men in the county, and by their fond mother were +judged as the best-hearted; but, as it often happens, Nature was +freakish in their regard, and turned them all out wild colts of a +baser breed than might have been expected from their unsullied +parentage. The eldest took to hard drinking and was killed at +steeple-chasing; the second was drowned while bathing; one of the +twins, named Frederick, the younger by a few minutes, after nearly +falling into unnameable depths of degradation by gambling with +certain 'noble and exalted' personages of renown, saved himself, as +it were, by the skin of his teeth, through marriage with a rich +American girl whose father was blessed with unlimited, oil-mines. He +was thereby enabled to wallow in wealth with an impaired digestion +and shattered nervous power, while capricious Fate played him her +usual trick in her usual way by denying him any heirs to his married +millions. His first-born brother, Robert, wedded for love, and chose +as his mate a beautiful girl without a penny, whose grace and charm +had dazzled the London world of fashion for about two seasons, and +she had died at the age of twenty in giving birth to her first +child, the girl whom her father had named Maryllia. + +All these chances and changes of life, however, occurring to the +leading family of the neighbourhood had left very little mark on St. +Rest, which drowsed under the light shadow of the eastern hills by +its clear flowing river, very much as it had always drowsed in the +old days, and very much as it would always do even if London and +Paris were consumed by unsuspected volcanoes. The memory of the +first 'old Squire,'--who died peacefully in his bed all alone, his +wife having passed away two years before him, and his two living +twin sons being absent,--was frequently mixed with stories of the +other 'old Squire' Robert, the elder twin, who was killed in the +hunting field,--and indeed it often happened that some of the more +ancient and garrulous villagers were not at all sure as to which was +which. The Manor had been shut up for ten years,--the Manor 'family' +had not been heard of during all that period, and the tenantry's +recollection of their late landlord, as well as of his one daughter, +was more vague and confused than authentic. The place had been +'managed' and the cottage rents collected by the detested agent +Oliver Leach, a fact which did not sweeten such remembrance of the +Vancourts as still existed in the minds of the people. + +However, nothing in the general aspect and mental attitude of the +village had altered very much since the early thirties, except the +church. That from a mere ruin, had under John Walden's incumbency +become a gem of architecture, so unique and perfect as to be the +wonder and admiration of all who beheld it, and whereas in the early +Victorian reign a few people stopped at Riversford because it was a +county town and because there was an inn there where they could put +up their horses, so a few people now went to St. Rest, because there +was a church there worth looking at. They came by train to +Riversford, where the railway line stopped, and then took carriage +or cycled the seven miles between that town and St. Rest to see the +church; and having seen it, promptly went back again. For one of the +great charms of the little village hidden under the hills was that +no tourist could stay a night in it, unless he or she took one spare +room--there was only one--at the small public-house which sneaked +away up round a corner of the street under an archway of ivy, and +pushed its old gables through the dark enshrouding leaves with a +half-surprised, half-propitiatory air, as though somewhat ashamed of +its own existence. With the exception of this one room in this one +public-house, there was no accommodation for visitors. Never will +the rash cyclist who ventured once to appeal to the sexton's wife +for rooms in her cottage, forget the brusqueness of his reception: + +"Rooms!" And Mrs. Frost, setting her arms well akimbo, surveyed the +enquirer scornfully through an open doorway, rendered doubly +inviting by the wealth of roses clambering round it. "Be off, young +man! Where was you a-comin' to? D'ye think a woman wi' fifteen great +boys and girls in an' out of the 'ouse all day, 'as rooms for payin' +guests!" And here Mrs. Frost, snorting at the air in irrepressible +disdain, actually snapped her fingers in her would-be lodger's face. +"Rooms indeed! Go to Brighting!" + +Whereupon the abashed wheelman went,--whether to Brighton, as the +irate lady suggested, or to a warmer place unmentionable history +sayeth not. But St. Rest remained, as its name implied, restful,-- +and the barbaric yell of the cheap tripper, together with the +equally barbaric scream of the cheap tripper's 'young lady' echoed +chiefly through modernised and vulgarised Riversford, where there +were tea-rooms and stuffy eating-houses and bad open-air concerts, +such as trippers and their 'ladies' delight in,--and seldom +disturbed the tranquil charm of the tiny mediaeval village dear to a +certain few scholars, poets and antiquarians who, through John +Walden, had gradually become acquainted with this 'priceless bit' as +they termed it, of real 'old' England and who almost feared to +mention its existence even in a whisper, lest it should be 'swarmed +over' by enquiring Yankees, searching for those everlasting +ancestors who all managed so cleverly to cross the sea together in +one boat, the Mayflower. + +There is something truly pathetic as well as droll in the anxiety of +every true American to prove himself or herself an offshoot from +some old British root of honour or nobility. It would be cruel to +laugh at this instinct, for after all it is only the passionate +longing of the Prodigal Son who, having eaten of the husks that the +swine did eat, experienced such an indigestion at last, that he said +'I will arise and go to my father.' And it is quite possible that an +aspiring Trans-Atlantic millionaire yearning for descent more than +dollars, would have managed to find tracks of a Mayflower pedigree +in St. Rest, a place of such antiquity as to be able to boast a +chivalric 'roll of honour' once kept in the private museum at +Badsworth Hall before the Badsworth family became extinct, but now, +thanks to Walden, rescued from the modern clutch of the Hall's +present proprietor, Sir Morton Pippitt, and carefully preserved in +an iron box locked up in the church, along with other documents of +value belonging to the neighbourhood. On this were inscribed the +names of such English gentlemen once resident in the district, who +had held certain possessions in France at the accession of Henry II. +in 1154. Besides the 'roll of honour' there were other valuable +records having to do with the Anglo-French campaigns in the time of +King John, and much concerning those persons of St. Rest and +Riversford who took part in the Wars of the Barons. + +Whatever there was of curious or interesting matter respecting the +village and its surroundings had been patiently ferreted out by John +Walden, who had purchased the living partly because he knew it to be +a veritable mine for antiquarian research, and one likely to afford +him inexhaustible occupation and delight. But there were, of course, +other reasons for his settling down in so remote a spot far from the +busy haunts of men,--reasons which, to his own mind, were perfectly +natural and simple, though on account of his innate habit of +reticence, and disinclination to explain his motives to others, they +were by some supposed to be mysterious. In his youth he had been one +of the most brilliant and promising of University scholars, and all +those who had assisted to fit him for his career in the Church, had +expected great things of him. Some said he would be a Bishop before +he was thirty; others considered that he would probably content +himself with being the most intellectual and incisive preacher of +his time. But he turned out to be neither one nor the other. A +certain Henry Arthur Brent, his fellow student at College and five +years his senior, had, with apparent ease, outstripped him in the +race for honour, though lacking in all such exceptional slowly off +towards the vegetable garden where his 'under gardeners' as he +called three or four sturdy village lads employed to dig and hoe, +constantly required his supervision. + +Meanwhile Walden, leaving his own grounds, entered the churchyard, +walking with softly reverent step among the little green mounds of +earth, under which kind eyes were closed, and warm hearts lay cold, +till, reaching the porched entrance of the church itself, he paused, +brought to a halt by the sound of voices which were pitched rather +too loud for propriety, considering the sacredness of the +surroundings. + +"That eastern window is crude--very crude!" said a growlingly robust +baritone; "I suppose the reverend gentleman could not secure +sufficient subscriptions to meet the expense of suitable stained +glass?" + +"Unfortunately Mr. Walden is a very self-opinionated man," replied a +smooth and oily tenor, whose particular tone of speech Walden +recognised as that of the Reverend 'Putty' Leveson, the minister of +Badsworth, a small scattered village some five or six miles 'on the +wrong side of Badsworth Hall,' as the locality was called, owing to +its removed position from the county town of Riversford. "He would +not accept outside advice. Of course these columns and capitals are +all wrong,--they are quite incongruous with early Norman walls,--but +when ignorance is allowed to have its own way, the effect is always +disastrous." + +"Always--always,--my dear sir--always!" And the voice or Sir Morton +Pippitt, high pitched and resonant, trolled out on the peaceful air; +"The fact is, the church could have been much better done, had I +been consulted! The whole thing was carried out in the most brazen +manner, under my very nose, sir, under my very nose!--without so +much as a 'by your leave'! Shocking, shocking! I complained to the +Bishop, but it was no use, for it seems that he has a perfect +infatuation for this man Walden--they were college friends or +something of that kind. As for the sarcophagus here, of course it +ought in the merest common decency to have been transferred to the +Cathedral of the diocese. But you see the present incumbent bought +the place;--the purchase of advowsons is a scandal, in my opinion-- +however this man got it all his own way, more's the pity!--he bought +it through some friend or other--and so--" + +"So he could do as he liked with it!" said a mild, piping falsetto; +"And so far, he has made it beau-ti-ful!--beau-ti-ful!" carved with +traceries of natural fruit and foliage, which were scarcely injured +by the devastating mark of time. But rough and sacrilegious hands +had been at work to spoil and deface the classic remains of the +time-worn edifice, and some of the lancet windows had been actually +hewn out and widened to admit of the insertion of modern timber +props which awkwardly supported a hideous galvanised iron roof, on +the top of which was erected a kind of tin hen-coop in which a sharp +bell clanged with irritating rapidity for Sunday service. Outside, +the building was thus rendered grotesquely incongruous,--inside it +was almost blasphemous in its rank ugliness. There were several rows +of narrow pews made of common painted deal,--there was a brown stone +font and a light pine-wood pulpit--a small harmonium stood in one +corner, festooned by a faded red woollen curtain, and a general air +of the cheap upholsterer and jerry-builder hovered over the whole +concern. And the new incumbent, gazing aghast at the scene, was +triumphantly informed that "Sir Morton Pippitt had been generous +enough to roof and 'restore' the church in this artistic manner out +of his own pocket, for the comfort of the villagers," and moreover +that he actually condescended to attend Divine service under the +galvanised iron roof which he had so liberally erected. Nay, it had +been even known that Sir Morton had on one or two occasions himself +read the Lessons in the absence of the late rector, who was subject +to sore throats and was constantly compelled to call in outside +assistance. + +To all this information John Walden said nothing. He was not +concerned with Sir Morton Pippitt or any other county magnate in the +management of his own affairs. A fortnight after his arrival he +quietly announced to his congregation that the church was about to +be entirely restored according to its original lines of +architecture, and that a temporary building would be erected on his, +Walden's, own land for the accommodation of the people during such +time as the restoration should be in progress. This announcement +brought about Walden's first acquaintance with his richest +neighbour, Sir Morton Pippitt. That gentleman having been accustomed +to have his own way in everything concerning St. Rest, for a +considerable time, straightway wrote, expressing his 'surprise and +indignation' at the mere assumption that any restoration was +required for the church beyond what he, Sir Morton, had effected at +his own expense. The number of parishioners was exceedingly small,-- +too small to warrant any further expenditure for enlarging a place +of worship which mental ability as he possessed, and was now Bishop +of the very diocese in which he had his little living. University +men said he had 'stood aside' in order to allow Brent to press more +swiftly forward, but though this was a perfectly natural supposition +on the part of those who knew something of Walden's character, it +was not correct. Walden at that time had only one object in life,-- +and this was to secure such name and fame, together with such +worldly success as might delight and satisfy the only relative he +had in the world, his sister, a beautiful and intelligent woman, +full of an almost maternal tenderness for him, and a sweet +resignation to her own sad lot, which made her the victim of a slow +and incurable disease. So long as she lived, her brother threw +himself into his work with intensity and ardour; but when she died +that impulse withered, as it were, at its very root. The world +became empty for him, and he felt that from henceforth he would be +utterly companionless. For what he had seen of modern women, modern +marriage and modern ways of life, did not tempt him to rashly seek +refuge for his heart's solitude in matrimony. Almost immediately +following the loss of his sister, an uncle of whom he had known very +little, died suddenly, leaving him a considerably large fortune. As +soon as he came into possession of this unexpected wealth, he +disappeared at once from the scene of his former labours,--the +pretty old house in the University town, with its great cedars +sloping to the river and its hallowed memories of the sister he had +so dearly loved, was sold by private treaty,--his voice was heard no +more in London pulpits, where it had begun to carry weight and +influence,--and he managed to obtain the then vacant and obscure +living of St. Rest, the purchase of the advowson being effected, so +it was said, privately through the good offices of his quondam +college friend, Bishop Brent. And at St. Rest he had remained, +apparently well contented with the very simple and monotonous round +of duty it offered. + +When he had first arrived there, he found that the church consisted +of some thick stone walls of the early Norman, period, built on a +cruciform plan, the stones being all uniformly wrought and close- +jointed,--together with a beautiful ruined chancel divided from the +main body of the building by massive columns, which supported on +their capitals the fragments of lofty arches indicative of an +architectural transition from the Norman to the Early Pointed +English style. There were also the hollow slits of several lancet +windows, and one almost perfect pierced circular window to the east, +elaborately And here he whirled round on his only daughter, an +angular and severely-visaged spinster; "Look at this fool!--this +staring ape! All the sauce on the carpet! Wish he had to pay for it! +He'll take an hour to get a cloth and wipe it up! Why did you engage +such a damned ass, eh?" + +Miss Tabitha preserved a prudent silence, seeing that the butler, a +serious-looking personage with a resigned-to-ill-usage demeanour, +was already engaged in assisting the hapless footman to remove the +remains of the spilt condiment, from the offended gaze of his irate +master. + +"Like his damned impudence!" broke out Sir Morton again, resuming +with some reluctance his seat at the breakfast table, and chopping +at the fried bacon on his plate till the harder bits flew far and +wide,--"'Happy to reimburse me!'--the snivelling puppy! Why the +devil he was allowed to sneak into this living, I don't know! The +private purchase of advowsons is a scandal--a disgraceful scandal! +Any Tom, Dick or Harry can get a friend to buy him a benefice in +which to make himself a nuisance! Done under the rose,--and called a +'presentation'! All humbug and hypocrisy! That's why we get impudent +dogs like this beast Walden settling down in a neighbourhood whether +we like it or not!" + +Miss Tabitha munched some toast slowly with a delicate regard for +her front teeth, which had cost money. There was no one in the room +to suggest to Sir Morton that it is a pity some law is not in +progress to prevent the purchase of historic houses by vulgar and +illiterate persons of no family;--which would be far more a benefit +to the land at large than the suppression of privately purchased +benefices. For the chances are ten to one that the ordained +minister, who, by his own choice secures a Church living for +himself, is likely at least to be a well-educated gentleman, +interested in the work he has himself elected to do,--whereas the +illiterate individual who buys an historic house simply for self- +glorification, will probably be no more than a mere petty and +pompous tyrant over the district which that particular house +dominates. + +Badsworth Hall, a fine sixteenth-century pile, had, through the +reckless racing and gambling propensities of the last heir, fallen +into the hands of the Jews. On the fortunate demise of the young +gentleman who had brought it to this untimely end, it was put up for +sale with all its contents. And Sir Morton Pippitt,--a rich +colonial, whose forebears were entirely undistinguished, but who had +made a large fortune by a bone-melting business, which converted the +hoofs, horns and (considering that some years ago it had been a mere +roofless ruin, and that the people had been compelled to walk or +drive to Riversford in order to attend church at all on Sundays) Sir +Morton thought was now very comfortable and satisfactory. In fact, +Sir Morton concluded, "Mr. Walden would be very ill-advised if he +made any attempt to raise money for such a useless purpose as the +'entire restoration' of the church of St. Rest, and Mr. Walden might +as well be at once made aware that Sir Morton himself would not give +a penny towards it." To which somewhat rambling and heated epistle +John Walden replied with civil stiffness as follows: + +"The Rev. John Walden presents his compliments to Sir Morton +Pippitt, and in answer to his letter begs to say that he has no +intention of raising any subscription to defray the cost of +restoring the church, which in its present condition is totally +unfit for Divine service. Having secured the living, Mr. Walden will +make the restoration the object of his own personal care, and will +also be pleased to reimburse Sir Morton Pippitt for any outlay to +which he may have been put in erecting the galvanised roof and other +accessories for the immediate convenience of the parishioners who +have, he understands, already expressed their sense of obligation to +Sir Morton for kindly providing them with such temporary shelter +from the changes of the weather as seemed to be humanely necessary." + +This calm epistle when received at Badsworth Hall, had the effect of +a sudden stiff breeze on the surface of hitherto quiet waters. Sir +Morton Pippitt in a brand-new tweed suit surmounted by a very high, +clean, stiff shirt-collar, was sitting at breakfast in what was +formerly known as the 'great Refectory,' a memory of the days when +Badsworth had been a large and important monastery, but which was +now turned into a modern-antique dining-room,--and as he read, with +the aid of his gold-rimmed spectacles, the curt, chill, severely +polite letter of the 'new parson' he flew into a sudden violent +passion. + +"Damn the fellow!" he spluttered, jumping up in haste and striking +out an arm towards the very direction in which a mild young footman +was just approaching him with a bottle of Worcester sauce on a +tray,--"Damn him!" + +The footman staggered back in terror, and the Worcester sauce reeled +over drunkenly on to the carpet. + +"There you go, you clumsy, gaping idiot!" roared Sir Morton, growing +purple with increasing fury. "Tabitha!" called 'The Riversford +Gazette.' If Sir Morton had a pig killed, the fact was duly notified +to an admiring populace in the 'Riversford Gazette.' If he took a +prize in cabbages at the local vegetable and flower show, the +'Riversford Gazette' had a column about it. If he gave a tennis- +party, there were two columns, describing all the dresses of the +ladies, the prowess of the 'champions' and the 'striking and jovial +personality' of Sir Morton Pippitt. And if the fact of that +'striking and jovial personality' were not properly insisted upon, +Sir Morton went himself to see the editor of the 'Riversford +Gazette,' an illiterate tuft-hunting little man,--and nearly +frightened him into fits. He had asserted himself in this kind of +autocratic fashion ever since he had purchased Badsworth, when he +was still in his forties,--and it may be well imagined that at the +age of sixty he was not prepared to be thwarted, even in a matter +wherein he had no real concern. The former rector of St. Rest, an +ailing, nervous and exceedingly poor creature, with a large family +to keep, had been only too glad and ready to do anything Sir Morton +Pippitt wished, for the sake of being invited to dine at the Hall +once a week,--it was therefore a very unexpected and disagreeable +experience for the imperious Bone-melter to learn that the new +incumbent was not at all disposed to follow in the steps of his +predecessor, but, on the contrary, was apparently going to insist on +having his own way with as much emphasis as Sir Morton Pippitt +himself. + +"I shall soon bring that fellow to his senses," declared Sir Morton, +on the eventful morning which first saw the gage of battle thrown +down; "I shall teach him that, parson or no parson, he will have to +respect my authority! God bless my seoul! Does he think I'm going to +be dictated to at my time of life?" + +He addressed these observations to his daughter, Miss Tabitha +Pippitt, but whether she heard them or not was scarcely apparent. At +any rate, she did not answer. Having finished her breakfast, she +pulled out some knitting from an embroidered bag hanging at her side +and set her needles clicketing, while her father, redder in the face +and more implacable of mood than ever, went out to see what he could +do to save his galvanised iron roof from the hand of the spoiler. + +But, as he might have known, if his irascibility had allowed him to +weigh the pros and cons of the situation, his 'authority' was of no +avail. An angry letter to the Bishop of the diocese only drew forth +a curt reply from the Bishop's secrebones of defunct animals into a +convenient mixture wherewith to make buttons and other useful +articles of hardware, bought it, as the saying goes, 'for a mere +song.' Through his easy purchase he became possessed of the +Badsworth ancestry, as shown in their pictures hanging on the +dining-room walls and in the long oak-panelled picture gallery. Lady +Madeline Badsworth, famous for her beauty in some remote and +chivalrous past, gazed down at Sir Morton while he sat at meals, +suggesting to the imaginative beholder a world of scorn in her +lovely painted eyes,--and a heroic young Badsworth who had perished +at the battle of Marston Moor, stood proudly out of one of the dark +canvases, his gauntleted hand on the hilt of his sword and a smile +of pained wrath on his lips, as one who should say, beholding the +new possessor of his ancient home 'To such base uses must we come at +last!' + +Surrounded by gold-framed Badsworths, young and old, Sir Morton ate +his fried bacon and 'swilled' his tea, with a considerable noise in +swallowing, getting gradually redder in the face as he proceeded +with his meal. He was by no means a bad-looking old gentleman,--his +sixty years sat lightly upon his broad shoulders, and he was tall +and well set up, though somewhat too stout in what may be politely +called the 'lower chest' direction. His face was plump, florid and +clean-shaven, and what hair he still possessed was of a pleasantly- +bright silver hue. The first impression he created was always one of +kindness and benevolence,--the hearts of women especially invariably +went out to him, and murmurs of 'What a dear old man!' and 'What a +darling old man!' frequently escaped lips feminine in softest +accents. He was very courtly to women,--when he was not rude; and +very kind to the poor,--when he was not mean. His moods were +fluctuating; his rages violent; his temper obstinate. When he did +not succeed in getting his own way, his petulant sulks resembled +those of a spoilt child put in a corner, only they lasted longer. +There was one shop in Riversford which he had not entered for ten +years, because its owner had ventured, with trembling respect, to +contradict him on a small matter. Occasionally he could be quite the +'dear darling old man' his lady admirers judged him to be,--but +after all, his servants knew him best. To them, 'Sir Morton was a +caution.' And that is precisely what he was; the definition entirely +summed up his character. He had one great passion,--the desire to +make himself 'the' most important person in the county, and to be +written about in the local paper, a hazy and often ungrammatical +organ For the chancel appeared to demand special reverence, from the +nature of a wonderful discovery made in it during the work of +restoration,--a discovery which greatly helped to sustain and +confirm the name of both church and village as 'St. Rest,' and to +entirely disprove the frequently-offered suggestion that it could +ever have been meant for 'St. East.' And this is how the discovery +happened. + +One never-to-be-forgotten morning when the workmen were hewing away +at the floor of the chancel, one of their pickaxes came suddenly in +contact with a hard substance which gave back a metallic echo when +the blow of the implement came down upon it. Working with caution, +and gradually clearing away a large quantity of loose stones, broken +pieces of mosaic and earth, a curious iron handle was discovered +attached to a large screw which was apparently embedded deep in the +ground. Walden was at once informed of this strange 'find' and +hastened to the spot to examine the mysterious object. He was not +very long in determining its nature. + +"This is some very ancient method of leverage," he said, turning +round to the workmen with an excitement he could barely conceal; +"There is something precious underneath in the ground,--something +which can probably be raised by means of this handle and screw. Dig +round it about a yard away from the centre,--loosen the earth +gently--be very careful!" + +They obeyed; and all that day Walden stood watching them at work, +his mind divided between hope and fear, and his spirit moved by the +passionate exultation of the antiquary whose studies and researches +are about to be rewarded with unexpected treasure. Towards sunset +the men came upon a large oblong piece of what appeared to be +alabaster, closely inlaid with patterns of worn gold and bearing on +its surface the sculptured emblems of a cross, a drawn sword and a +crown of laurel leaves intertwisted with thorns, the whole most +elaborately wrought, and very little injured. As this slowly came to +light, Walden summoned all hands to assist him in turning the great +iron screw which now stood out upright, some three or four feet from +the aperture they had been digging. Wondering at his 'fancy' as they +termed it, they however had full reliance on his proved knowledge of +what he was about, and under his guidance they all applied +themselves to the quaint and cumbrous iron handle which had been the +first thing discovered, and with considerable difficulty began to +day to the effect that as the Reverend John Walden was now the +possessor of the living of St. Rest and had furthermore obtained a +'faculty' for the proper restoration of the church, which was to be +carried out at the said John Walden's own risk and personal +expenditure, the matter was not open to any outside discussion. +Whereat, Sir Morton's fury became so excessive that he actually shut +up Badsworth Hall and went away for a whole year, greatly to the +relief of the editor of the 'Riversford Gazette,' who was able to +dismiss him with a comfortable paragraph, thus: + +"Sir Morton Pippitt has left Badsworth Hall for a tour round the +world. Miss Pippitt accompanies her distinguished father." + +Then followed a spell of peace;--and the restoration of the church +at St. Rest was quietly proceeded with. Lovingly, and with tenderest +care for every stone, every broken fragment, John Walden pieced +together the ruined shrine of ancient days, and managed at last to +trace and recover the whole of the original plan. It had never been +a large building, its proportions being about the same as those of +Roslin Chapel, near Edinburgh. The task of restoration was costly, +especially when carried out with such perfection and regard to +detail,--but Walden grudged nothing to make it complete, and +superintended the whole thing himself, rejecting all the semi- +educated suggestions of the modern architect, and faithfully +following out the ideas of the particular period in which the church +was originally designed by those to whom the building of a 'God's +House' was a work of solemn prayer and praise. The ancient stones +were preserved, and wherever modern masonry was used, it was +cunningly worked in to look as time-worn as the Norman walls, while +the lancet windows were filled with genuine old stained glass +purchased by degrees from different parts of England, each fragment +being properly authenticated. A groined roof, simple yet noble in +outline, covered in the building; ornamented with delicately rounded +mouldings alternated with hollows so planned as to give the most +forcible effects of light and shade according to the style of +English Early Pointed work, and the only thing that was left +incomplete was the pierced circular window above the chancel, which +Walden sought to fill with stained glass of such indubitable +antiquity and beauty of design that he was only able to secure it +bit by bit at long intervals. While engaged in collecting this, he +judged it best to fill the window with ordinary clear glass rather +than put in inferior stuff. age system exactly in the middle of the +chancel, fronting the altar, we will let it remain there and occupy +its own original place. The chancel could not have a grander +ornament! + +And so, in the middle of the chancel, between the altar and the +steps which separated that part of the church from the main body of +the building, the mysterious undated relic lay under the warm light +of the eastern window, and people who were interested in antiquities +came from far and near to see it, though they could make no more of +it than Walden himself had done. The cross and sword might possibly +indicate martyrdom; the laurels and thorn fame. Certainly there were +no signs that the dumb occupant of that sealed coffer was a monarch +of merely earthly power and state. When the alabaster came to be +thoroughly cleansed and polished, part of the inscription could be +deciphered in the following letters of worn gold: + +Sancta. vixit. Sancta obit.. In. coelum.. sanctorum., +transmigravit... In Resurrectione Sanctorum resurget M.. Beatse. +ma.. R. + +But to what perished identity these significant words applied +remained an impenetrable mystery. Every old record was carefully +searched,--every scrap of ancient history wherein the neighbourhood +of St. Rest had ever been concerned was turned over and over by the +patient and indefatigable John Walden, who followed up many +suggestive tracks eagerly and lost them again when apparently just +on the point of finding some sure clue,--till at last he gave up the +problem in despair and contented himself and his parishioners by +accepting the evident fact that in the old church at one time or +another some saint or holy abbot had been buried,--hence the name of +St. Rest or 'The Saint's Rest,' which had become attached to the +village. But at what exact period such saint or abbot had lived and +died, was undiscoverable. + +When the restoration of the sacred shrine was completed, and an +expectant congregation filled it to overflowing to assist at the +solemn service of its re-dedication to the worship of God, not one +among them all but was deeply impressed by the appearance of the +restored chancel, with its beautiful columns and delicate capitals, +arching like a bower of protection over the altar, and over that +wonderful white sarcophagus lying turn it round and round. As they +proceeded laboriously in this task, while the screw creaked and +groaned under the process with a noise as of splitting timber, all +at once the oblong slab of alabaster moved, and rose upward about an +inch. + +"To it, boys!" cried Walden, his eyes sparkling; "To it again, and +harder! We shall have it with us in an hour!" + +And truly, in somewhat less than an hour the strange old-world lever +had lifted what it must often have lifted in a similar way in bygone +years,--a magnificent and perfectly preserved sarcophagus, measuring +some six or seven feet long by three feet wide, covered with +exquisite carving at the sides, representing roses among thorns, the +flowers having evidently at one time been centred with gems and +which even now bore traces of gold. Round the lid there was some dim +lettering which was scarcely discernible,--the lid itself was firmly +closed and strongly cemented. + +Exclamations of wonder, admiration, and excitement broke from all +who had been engaged in the work of excavation, and presently the +whole village ran out to see the wonderful relic of a forgotten +past, all chattering, all speculating, all staring, Walden alone +stood silent; his head bared,--his hands clasped. He knew that only +some great saint or holy recluse could have ever been so royally +enshrined in ancient days, and the elaborate system of leverage used +seemed to prove that the body laid within that wrought alabaster and +gold must have been considered to be of that peculiar nature termed +'miraculous,' and worthy to be lifted from its resting-place into +the chancel on certain particular occasions for the homage and +reverence of the people. The sun poured down upon the beautiful +object lying there,--on the groups of workmen who, instinctively +imitating Walden's example, had bared their heads,--on the wrinkled +worn faces of old village men and women,--on the bright waving locks +of young girls, and the clear enquiring eyes of children, all gazing +at the strange treasure-trove their ruined church had given up to +the light of a modern day. Presently the chief workman, asked Walden +in a hushed voice: + +"Shall we break it open, sir?" + +"No,--never!" replied Walden gently but firmly; "That would be +sacrilege. We may not lightly disturb the dead! The ashes enshrined +in this wonderful casket must be those of one who was dear to the +old-time church. They shall rest in peace. And as this sarcophagus +is evidently fixed by its leversouls, and awakening them to hopeful +considerations of a happier end than the mere grave." + +Ten years, however, had now passed since John Walden had bought the +living, and of these ten years three had been occupied in the +restoration of the church, so that seven had elapsed since it had +been consecrated. And during those seven years not once had Bishop +Brent been seen again in St. Rest. He remained in the thoughts of +the people as an indefinable association with whom they would fain +have had more to do. Sir Morton Pippitt had passed from the sixties +into the seventies, very little altered;--still upright, still +inflexible and obstinate of temperament, he ruled the neighbourhood, +Riversford especially, as much as was possible to him now that much +of the management of St. Rest had passed under the quieter, but no +less firm authority of John Walden, whose will was nearly always +found in intellectually balanced opposition to his. The two seldom +met. Sir Morton was fond of 'county' society; Walden loathed it. +Moreover, Miss Tabitha, wearing steadily on towards fifty, had, as +the saying is, secretly 'set her cap' at the Reverend John; and the +mere sight of the sedately-amorous spinster set his nerves on edge. +Devoting himself strictly to his duties, to the care of the church, +to the interests of his parishioners, young and old, to the +cultivation of his garden, and to the careful preservation of all +the natural beauties of the landscape around him,--John lived very +much the life of a 'holy man' of mediaeval days; while Sir Horton +built and 'patronised' a hospital at Riversford, gave several prizes +for cabbages and shooting competitions, occasionally patted the +heads of a few straggling school-children, fussed round among his +scattered tenantry, and wrote paragraphs about his own 'fine +presence and open-hearted hospitality' for publication in the +'Riversford Gazette' whenever he entertained a house party at +Badsworth Hall, which he very frequently did. He kept well in touch +with London folk, and to London folk he was fond of speaking of St. +Rest as 'my' little village. But when London folk came to enquire +for themselves as to the nature of his possession, they invariably +discovered that it was not Sir Morton's little village at all but +the Reverend John's little village. Hence arose certain +discrepancies and cross-currents of feeling, leading to occasional +mild friction and 'local' excitement. Up to the present time, +however, Walden had on the whole lived a tranquil life, such as best +suited his tranquil and philosophic temperament, and his occasional +'brushes' with. snow-like in the rays of the sun, which flashed +clear on its stray bits of gold and broken incrustation of gems, +sending a straight beam through the eastern window on the one word +'Resurget' like a torch of hope from beyond the grave. + +Bishop Brent, Walden's old college friend, came to perform the +ceremony of consecration, and this was the first time the +inhabitants of St. Rest had seen a real Bishop for many years. Much +excitement did his presence create in that quiet woodland dell, the +more especially as he proved to be a Bishop somewhat out of the +common. Tall and attenuated in form, he had a face which might +almost be called magnetic, so alive was its expression,--so intense +and passionate was the light of the deep dark melancholy eyes that +burned from under their shelving brows like lamps set in a high +watch-tower of intellect. When he preached, his voice, with its deep +mellow cadence, thrilled very strangely to the heart,--and every +gesture, every turn of his head, expressed the activity of the keen +soul pent up within his apparently frail body. The sermon he gave on +the occasion of the re-dedication of the Church of St. Rest was +powerful and emotional, but scarcely orthodox--and therefore was not +altogether pleasing to Sir Morton Pippitt. He chose as his text: +"Behold I show you a mystery; we shall not sleep, but we shall all +be changed;" and on this he expatiated, setting forth the joys of +the spiritual life as opposed to the physical,--insisting on the +positive certainty of individual existence after death, and weaving +into his discourse some remarks on the encoffined saint whose +sarcophagus had been unearthed from its long-hidden burial-place and +set again where it had originally stood, in the middle of the +chancel. He spoke in hushed and solemn tones of the possibility of +the holy spirit of that unknown one being present among them that +day, helping them in their work, joining in their prayers of +consecration and perhaps bestowing upon them additional blessing. At +which statement, given with poetic earnestness and fervour, Sir +Morton stared, breathed hard and murmured in his daughter's ear "A +Roman! The man is a Roman!" + +But notwithstanding Sir Morton Pippitt's distaste for the manner in +which the Bishop dealt with his subject, and his numerous allusions +to saints in heaven and their probable guardianship of their friends +on earth, the sermon was a deeply impressive one and lingered long +in the memories of those who had heard it, softening their hearts, +inspiring their for the news of her coming. It is the one cloud in +an otherwise clear sky! + +The young moon swinging lazily downward to the west, looked upon him +as though she smiled. A little bat scurried past in fear and hurled +itself into the dewy masses of foliage bordering the edge of the +lawn. And from the reeds and sedges fringing the river beyond, there +came floating a long whispering murmur that swept past his ears and +died softly into space, as of a voice that had something strange and +new to say, which might not yet be said. Sir Morton only served to +give piquancy and savour to the quiet round of his daily habits. +Now, all unexpectedly, there was to be a break,--a new source of +unavoidable annoyance in the intrusion of a feminine authority,--a +modern Squire-ess, who no doubt would probably bring modern ways +with her into the little old-world place,--who would hunt and shoot +and smoke,--perhaps even swear at her grooms,--who could tell? She +would not, she could not interfere with, the church, or its +minister, were she ever so much Miss Vancourt of Abbot's Manor,--but +she could if she liked 'muddle about' with many other matters, and +there could be no doubt that as the visible and resident mistress of +the most historic house in the neighbourhood, she would be what is +called 'a social influence.' + +"And not for good!" mused John Walden, during a meditative stroll in +his garden on the even of the May-day on. which he had heard the +disturbing news; "Certainly not for good!" + +He raised his eyes to the sky where the curved bow of a new moon +hung clear and bright as a polished sickle. All was intensely still. +The day had been a very busy one for him;--the children's dinner and +their May-games had kept his hands full, and not till sunset, when +the chimes of the church began to ring for evening service, had he +been able to snatch a moment to himself for quiet contemplation. The +dewy freshness of the garden, perfumed by the opening blossoms of +the syringa, imparted its own sense of calm and grave repose to his +mind,--and as he paced slowly up and down the gravel walk in front +of his study window watching the placid beauty of the deepening +night, a slight sigh escaped him. + +"It cannot be for good!" he repeated, regretfully; "A woman trained +as she must have been trained since girlhood, with all her finer +perceptions blunted by perpetual contact with the assertive and +ostentatious evidences of an excess of wealth,--probably surrounded +too by the pitiful vulgarisms of a half-bred American society, too +ignorant to admit or recognise its own limitations,--she must have +almost forgotten the stately traditions of the fine old family she +springs from. One must not expect the motto of 'noblesse oblige' to +weigh with modern young women--more's the pity! I'm afraid the +mistress of Abbot's Manor will be a disturbing element in the +village, breeding discontent and trouble where there has been till +now comparative peace, and a fortunate simplicity of life. I'm +sorry! This would have been a perfect First of May but Ha-ha-ha-ha!" +And he broke into a laugh so joyous and mellow that Bainton found it +quite irresistible and joined in it with a deep "Hor-hor-hor!" +evoked from the hollow of his throat, and beginning loudly, but +dying away into a hoarse intermittent chuckle. + +"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed the Reverend John again, throwing back his head +with a real enjoyment in his capability for laughter; "You did quite +right to disturb me, Bainton,--quite right! Where are Sir Morton and +his party? What are they doing?" + +"They was jes' crossin' the churchyard when I spied 'em," answered +Bainton; "An' Sir Morton was makin' some very speshul observations +of his own on the 'herly Norman period.' Hor-hor-hor! An' they've +got ole Putty Leveson with 'em--" + +"Bainton!" interrupted Walden severely; "How often must I tell you +that you should not speak of the rector of Badsworth in that +disrespectful manner?" + +"Very sorry, sir!" said Bainton complacently; "But if one of the +names of a man 'appens to be Putwood an' the man 'imself is as fat +as a pig scored for roastin' 'ole, what more natrul than the pet +name of 'Putty' for 'im? No 'arm meant, I'm sure, Passon!--Putty's +as good as Pippitt any day!" + +Walden suppressed his laughter with an effort. He was very much of a +boy at heart, despite his forty odd years, and the quaint +obstinacies of his gardener amused him too much to call for any +serious remonstrance. Turning back to his study he took his hat and +cane from their own particular corner of the room and started for +the little clap gate which Bainton had been, as he said, 'keeping +his eye on.' + +"No more work to-day," he said, with an air of whimsical +resignation; "But I may possibly get one or two hints for my +sermon!" + +He strode off, and Bainton watched him go. As the clap gate opened +and swung to again, and his straight athletic figure disappeared, +the old gardener still stood for a moment or two ruminating. + +"What a blessin' he ain't married!" he said thoughtfully; "A +blessin' to the village, an' a blessin' to 'imself! He'd a bin a +fine man spoilt, if a woman 'ad ever got 'old on 'im,--a fine man +spoilt, jes' like me!" + +An appreciative grin at his own expense spread among the furrows of +his face at this consideration;--then he trotted + + + + +IV + + +Two days later on, when Walden was at work in his own room seriously +considering the points of his sermon for the coming Sunday, his +'head man about the place,' Bainton, made a sudden appearance on the +lawn and abruptly halted there, looking intently up at the sky, as +though taking observations of a comet at noon. This was a customary +trick of his resorted to whenever he wished to intrude his presence +during forbidden hours. John saw him plainly enough from where he +sat busily writing, though for a few minutes he pretended not to +see. But as Bainton remained immovable and apparently rooted to the +ground, and as it was likely that there he would remain till +positively told to go, his master made a virtue of necessity, and +throwing down his pen, went to the window. Bainton thereupon +advanced a little, but stopped again as though irresolute. Walden +likewise paused a moment, then at last driven to bay by the old +gardener's pertinacity, stepped out. + +"Now what is it, Bainton?" he said, endeavouring to throw a shade of +sternness into his voice; "You know very well I hate being disturbed +while I'm writing." + +Bainton touched his cap respectfully. + +"Now don't go for to say as I'm disturbing on ye, Passon," he +remonstrated, mildly; "I ain't said a mortal wurrd! I was onny jes' +keepin' my eye on the clap gate yonder, in case the party in the +churchyard might walk through, thinkin' it a right-o'-way. Them +swagger folk ain't got no sort of idee as to respectin' private +grounds." + +Walden's eyes flashed. + +"A party in the churchyard?" he repeated. "Who are they?" + +"Who should they be?" And Bainton's rugged features expressed a +sedate mingling of the shrewd and the contemptnous that was quite +amazing. "Worn't you expectin' distinguished visitors some day this +week, sir?" + +"I know!" exclaimed Walden quickly; "Sir Morton Pippitt and his +guests have come to 'inspect' the church!" + +There was a pause, during which Walden, baring his head as he passed +in, entered the sacred edifice. He became aware of Sir Morton +Pippitt standing in the attitude of a University Extension lecturer +near the sarcophagus in the middle of the chancel, with the Reverend +Mr. Leveson and a couple of other men near him, while two more +strangers were studying the groined roof with critical curiosity. As +he approached, Sir Morton made a rapid sign to his companions and +stepped down from the chancel. + +"Glad to see you, Mr. Walden," he said in a loud whisper, and with +an elaborate affectation of great heartiness; "I have brought His +Grace the Duke of Lumpton to see the church." + +Walden allowed his calm blue eyes to rest quietly on His Grace the +Duke of Lumpton without much interest. His Grace was an undersized +fat man, with a bald head and a red face, and on Walden's being +presented to him, merely nodded with a patronisingly casual air. + +"Lord Mawdenham,"--continued Sir Morton, swelling visibly with just +pride at his own good fortune in being able to introduce a Lord +immediately after a Duke, and offering Walden, as it were, with an +expressive wave of his hand, to a pale young gentleman, who seemed +seriously troubled by an excess of pimples on his chin, and who +plucked nervously at one of these undesirable facial addenda as his +name was uttered. Walden acknowledged his presence with silent +composure, as he did the wide smile and familiar nod of his brother +minister, the Reverend 'Putty,' whose truly elephantine proportions +were encased in a somewhat too closely fitting bicycle suit, and +whose grand-pianoforte shaped legs and red perspiring face together, +presented a most unclerical spectacle of the 'Church at large.' + +The two gentlemen who had been studying the groined roof, now +brought their glances to bear on Walden, and one of them, a youngish +man with a crop of thick red hair and a curiously thin, hungry face, +spoke without waiting for Sir Morton's cue. + +"Mr. Walden? Ye-es!--I felt sure it must be Mr. Walden! Let me +congratulate you, sir, on your exquisite devotional work here! The +church is beau-ti-ful--beau-ti-ful! A sonnet in stone! A sculptured +prayer! Ye-es! It is so! Permit me to press your hand!" + +John smiled involuntarily. There was a quaint affectation about the +speaker that was quite irresistibly entertaining. + +"Mr. Julian Adderley is a poet," said Sir Morton, whispering this in +a jocose stage aside; "Everything is 'beautiful' to him!" + +Mr. Julian Adderley smiled faintly, and fixed a pair of rather fine +grey eyes on Walden with a mute appeal, as one who should say with +Hamlet 'These tedious old fools!' Meanwhile Sir Morton Pippitt had +secured the last member of his party affectionately by the arm, and +continuing his stage whisper said: + +"Permit me, Mr. Walden! This is one of our greatest London literary +lights! He will particularly appreciate anything you may he good +enough to tell him respecting your work of restoration here--Mr. +Marius Longford, of the Savile and Savage clubs!" + +Mr. Marius Longford, of the Savile and Savage clubs, bent his head +with an air of dignified tolerance. He was an angular personage, +with a narrow head, and a face cleanly shaven, except at the sides +where two small pussy-cat whiskers fringed his sharply defined jaws. +He had a long thin mouth, and long thin slits for his eyes to peep +through,--they would have been eyelids with other people, but with +him they were merely slits. He was a particularly neat man in +appearance--his clothes were well brushed, his linen spotless, his +iron-grey hair sleek, and his whole appearance that of a man well +satisfied with his own exterior personality. Walden glanced at this +great London literary light as indifferently as he would have +glanced at an incandescent lamp in the street, or other mechanical +luminary. He had not as yet spoken a word. Sir Morton had done all +the talking; but the power of silence always overcomes in the end, +and John's absolute non-committal of himself to any speech, had at +last the effect he desired--namely that of making Sir Morton appear +a mere garrulous old interloper, and his 'distinguished' friends +somewhat of the cheap tripper persuasion. The warm May sun poured +through the little shrine of prayer, casting flickers of gold and +silver on the 'Saint at Rest' before the altar, and showering azure +and rose patterns through the ancient stained glass which filled the +side lancet windows. The stillness became for the moment intense and +almost oppressive,--Sir Morton Pippitt fidgeted uneasily, pulled at +his high starched collar and became red in the face,--the Reverend +'Putty' forgot himself so far as to pinch one of his own legs and +hum a little tune, while the rest of the party waited for the +individual whom their host had so frequently called 'the damned +parson' to speak. The tension was relieved by the sudden quiet +entrance of a young woman carrying a roll of music. Seeing the group +of persons in the chancel, she paused in evident uncertainty. Walden +glanced at her, and his composed face all at once lighted up with +that kindly smile which in such moments made him more than +ordinarily handsome. + +"Come along, Miss Eden," he said in a low clear tone; "You are quite +at liberty to practise as usual. Sir Morton Pippitt and his friends +will not disturb you." + +Miss Eden smiled sedately and bent her head, passing by the visitors +with an easy demeanour and assured step, and made her way to where +the organ, small, but sweet and powerful, occupied a corner near +the chancel. While she busied herself in opening the instrument and +arranging her musics Walden took advantage of the diversion created +by her entrance to address himself to the knight Pippitt. + +"If I can be of service to your friends in explaining anything about +the church they may wish, to know, pray command me, Sir Morton," he +said. "But I presume that you and Mr, Leveson"--here he glanced at +the portly 'Putty' with a slight smile--"have pointed out all that +is necessary." + +"On the contrary!" said Mr. Marius Longford 'of the Savile and +Savage,' with a smoothly tolerant air; "We are really quite in the +dark! Do we understand, for example, that the restoration of this +church is entirely due to your generosity, or to assistance from +public funds and subscriptions?" + +"The restoration is due, not to my 'generosity,'" replied Walden, +"but merely to my sense of what is fitting for Divine service. I +have had no assistance from any fund or from any individual, because +I have not sought it." + +There was a pause, during which Mr. Longford fixed a pair of gold- +rimmed glasses on his nose and gazed quizzically through them at Sir +Morton Pippitt, whose countenance had grown uncomfortably purple in +hue either with exterior heat or inward vexation. + +"I thought. Sir Morton," he began slowly, when Mr. Leveson adroitly +interrupted him by the query: + +"Now what period would you fix, Mr. Longford, for this sarcophagus? +I am myself inclined to think it of the fourteenth century." + +A soft low strain of music here crept through, the church,--the +village schoolmistress was beginning her practice. She had a +delicate touch, and the sounds her fingers pressed from the organ- +keys were full, and solemn and sweet. His Grace the Duke of Lumpton +coughed loudly; he hated music, and always made some animal noise of +his own to drown it. + +"What matters the period!" murmured Julian Adderley, running his +thin hand through his thick hair. "Is it not sufficient to see it +here among us, with us, OF us?" + +"God bless my soul! I hope it is not OF us!" spluttered Sir Morton +with a kind of fat chuckle which seemed to emanate from his stiff +collar rather than from his throat; "'Ashes to ashes' of course; we +are all aware of that--but not just yet!--not just yet!" + +"I am unable to fix the period satisfactorily to my own mind," said +Walden, quietly ignoring both Sir Morton and his observations on the +Beyond; "though I have gone through considerable research with +respect to the matter. So I do not volunteer any opinion. There is, +however, no doubt that at one time the body contained in that coffer +must have been of the nature termed by the old Church 'miraculous.' +That is to say, it must have been supposed to be efficacious in +times of plague or famine, for there are several portions of the +alabaster which have evidently been worn away by the frequent +pressure or touch of hands on the surface. Probably in days when +this neighbourhood was visited by infection, drought, floods or +other troubles, the priests raised the coffin by the system of +leverage which we discovered when excavating (and which is still in +working order) and allowed the people to pass by and lay their hands +upon it with a special prayer to be relieved of their immediate +sickness or sorrow. There were many such 'miraculous' shrines in the +early part of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries." + +"Exactly," said Mr. Longford; "I imagine you may be right, Mr. +Walden; it is evidently a relic of the very earliest phases of the +Christian myth." + +As he spoke the last words Walden looked straightly at him. A fine +smile hovered on his lips. + +"It is as you say," he rejoined calmly--"It is a visible token of +the time when men believed in an Unseen Force more potent than +themselves." + +The Duke of Lumpton coughed noisily again, and his friend, Lord +Mawdenham, who up to the present had occupied the time in staring +vaguely about him and anxiously feeling his pimples, said hurriedly: + +"Oh, look here, Sir Morton--er--I say,--er--hadn't we better be +going? There's Lady Elizabeth Messing coming to lunch and you know +she can't bear to be kept waiting-never do, you know, not to be +there to see her when she arrives--he-he-he! We should never get +over it in London or out of London--'pon my life!--I do assure you!" + +Sir Morton's chest swelled;--his starched collar crackled round his +expanding throat, and his voice became richly resonant as under the +influential suggestion of another 'titled' personage, he replied: + +"Indeed, you are right, my dear Lord Mawdenham! To keep Lady +Elizabeth waiting would be an unpardonable offence against all the +proprieties! Hum--ha--er--yes!--against all the proprieties! Mr. +Walden, we must go! Lady Elizabeth Messing is coming to lunch with +us at Badsworth. You have no doubt heard of her--eldest daughter of +the Earl of Charrington!--yes, we must really be going! I think I +may say, may I not, your Grace?"--here he bent towards the ducal +Lumpton--"that we are all highly pleased with the way in which Mr. +Waldon has effected the restoration of the church?" + +"Oh, I don't know anything at all about it!" replied His Grace, with +the air of a sporting groom; "I've no taste at all in churches, and +I'm not taking any on old coffins! It's a nice little chapel--just +enough for a small village I should say. After all, don't-cher-know, +you only want very little accommodation for a couple of hundred +yokels; and whether it's old or new architecture doesn't matter to +'em a brass farthing!" + +These observations were made with a rambling air of vague self- +assertiveness which the speaker evidently fancied would pass for wit +and wisdom. Walden said nothing. His brow was placid, and his +countenance altogether peaceful. He was listening to the solemnly +sweet flow of a Bach prelude which Miss Eden was skilfully +unravelling on the organ, the notes rising and falling, and anon +soaring up again like prayerful words striving to carry themselves +to heaven. + +"I think," said Mr. Marius Longford weightily, "that whatever fault +the building may have from a strictly accurate point of view,--which +is a matter I am not prepared to go into without considerable time +given for due study and consideration,--it is certainly the most +attractive edifice of its kind that I have seen for some time. It +reflects great credit on you, Mr. Walden;--no doubt the work gave +you much personal pleasure!" + +"It certainly did so," replied John,--"and I'm afraid I am arrogant +enough to be satisfied with the general result so far as it goes,-- +with the exception of the eastern window, of course!" + +"Ah, that eastern window!" sighed the Reverend 'Putty' with an air +of aesthetic languor which was in comical contrast with his coarse +and commonplace appearance; "That is a sad, sad flaw! A terrible +incongruity!" + +"I made up my mind from the first," pursued Walden, his equable +voice seeming to float pleasantly on the tide of music with which +the little sanctuary was just then filled; "that nothing but the +most genuine and authentic old stained glass should fill that fine +circular rose carving, and those lance apertures; so I am collecting +it slowly, bit by bit, for this purpose. It will take time and +patience, no doubt,--but I think and hope that success will be the +end of the task I have set myself. In the meantime, of course, the +effect of plain glass where there should be only the richest +colouring is decidedly 'crude'!" + +He smiled slightly, and there was an uncomfortable pause. Sir Morton +Pippitt took out a voluminous red handkerchief covered with yellow +spots and blew his nose violently therein while the Reverend Mr. +Leveson nodded his large head blandly, as one who receives doubtful +information with kindly tolerance. Mr. Marius Longford looked +faintly amused. + +"I understand!" said the light of the 'Savile and Savage,' slowly; +"You seek perfection!" + +He smiled a pallid smile; but on the whole surveyed Walden with more +interest than he had hitherto done. Julian Adderley, who had during +the last couple of minutes stepped up to the chancel, now stood +gazing at the sarcophagus of the supposed Saint with a kind of +melancholy interest. Reading the only legible words of the +inscription in sotto voce, he sighed drearily. + +"' In--Resurrectione--Sanctorum--Resurget!' How simple!--how new!-- +how fresh! To think that anyone ever held such a child's faith!" + +"The Church is still supposed to hold it," said Walden steadily, +"And her ministers also. Otherwise, religion is a farce, and its +professors much less honest than the trusted servant who steals his +master's money!" + +Marius Longford smiled, and stroked one feline whisker thoughtfully. + +"So you actually believe what you preach!" he murmured--"Strange! +You are more of an antiquity than the consecrated dust enclosed in +that alabaster! Believe me!" + +"Much more,--much, more!" exclaimed the fantastic Adderley; "To +believe in anything at all is so remote!--so very remote!--and yet +so new--so fresh!" + +Walden made no reply. He never argued on religious matters; +moreover, with persons minded in the manner of those before him, it +seemed useless to even offer an opinion. They exchanged meaning +glances with each other, and followed Sir Morton, who was now moving +down the central aisle of the church towards the door of exit, +holding the Duke of Lumpton familiarly by the arm, and accompanied +by Lord Mawdenham. Walden walked silently with them, till, passing +out of the church, they all stood in a group on the broad gravelled +pathway which led to the open road, where the Pippitt equipage, a +large waggonette and pair, stood waiting, together with a bicycle, +the property of the Reverend Mr. Leveson. + +"Thank you, Mr. Walden!" then said Sir Morton Pippitt with a +grandiose air, as of one who graciously confers a benefit on the +silence by breaking it; "Thank you for--er--for--er--the pleasure of +your company this--er--this morning! My friend, the Duke,--and Lord +Mawdenham--and--er--our rising poet, Mr. Adderley--and--er--Mr. +Longford, have been delighted. Yes--er--delighted! Of course you +know MY opinion! Ha-ha-ha! You know MY opinion! It is the same as it +ever was--I never change! When _I_ have once made up my mind, it is +a fixture! I have said already and I say it again, that the church +was quite good enough for such people as live here, in its original +condition, and that you have really spent a great deal of cash on a +very needless work! I mustn't be rude, no, no, no!--but you know the +old adage: 'Fools and their money!' Ha-ha-ha! But we shan't quarrel. +Oh, dear no! It has cost ME nothing, I am glad to say! Ha-ha! Nor +anybody else! Now, if Miss Vancourt of Abbot's Manor had been here +when you began this restoration business of yours, SHE might have +had something to say--ha-ha-ha! She always has something to say!" + +"You think she would have objected?" queried Walden, coldly. + +"Oh, I won't go so far as that--no!--eh, your Grace--we won't go so +far as that!" + +The Duke of Lumpton, thus suddenly adjured, looked round, and smiled +vacantly. + +"Won't go so far as what?" he asked; "Didn't catch it!" + +"I was talking of Maryllia Vancourt," said Sir Morton with a kind of +fatuous leer; "YOU know her, of course!--everyone knows her more or +less. Charming girl!--charming! Maryllia Van!--ha-ha!" + +And Sir Morton laughed and leered again till certain veins, moved by +cerebral emotion, protruded largely on his forehead. His Grace +laughed also, but shortly and indifferently. + +"Oh, ya-as--ya-as! She's the one who's just had a rumpus with her +rich American aunt. I believe they don't speak, After years of +devotion, eh? So like women, ain't it!" + +The Reverend 'Putty' Leveson, who had been stooping over his bicycle +to set something right that was invariably going wrong with that +particular machine, and who was redder than ever in the face with +his efforts, now looked up. + +"Miss Vancourt is coming back to the Manor to reside there, so I +hear," he said. "Very dull for a woman accustomed to London and +Paris. I expect she'll stay about ten days." + +"One never knows--one cannot tell!" sighed Julian Adderley. +"Sometimes to the satiated female mind, overwrought with social +dissipation, there comes a strange longing for peace!--for the scent +of roses!--for the yellow shine of cowslips!--for the song of the +mating birds!--for the breath of cows!" + +Mr. Marius Longford smiled, and picked a tall buttercup nodding in +the grass at his feet. + +"Such aspirations in the fair sex are absolutely harmless," he said; +"Let us hope the lady's wishes may find their limit in a soothing +pastoral!" "Ha-ha-ha!" laughed Sir Morton. "You are deep, my dear +sir, you are very deep! God bless my soul! Deep as a well! No wonder +people are afraid of you! Clever, clever! I'm afraid of you myself! +Come along, come along! Can I assist your Grace?" Here he pushed +aside with a smothered 'Damn!' the footman, who stood holding open +the door of the waggonette, and officiously gave the Duke of Lumpton +a hand to help him into the carriage. "Now, Lord Mawdenham, please! +You next, Mr. Longford! Come, come, Mr. Adderley! Think of Lady +Elizabeth! She will be arriving at the Hall before we are there to +receive her! Terrible, terrible! Come along! We're all ready!" + +Julian Adderley had turned to Walden. + +"Permit me to call and see you alone!" he said. "I cannot just now +appreciate the poetry of your work in the church as I should do--as +I ought to do--as I must do! The present company is discordant!--one +requires the music of Nature,-the thoughts,--the dreams! But no more +at present! I should like to talk with you on many matters some wild +sweet morning,--if you have no objection?" + +Walden was amused. At the same time he was not very eager to respond +to this overture of closer acquaintanceship with one who, by his +dress, manner and method of speech, proclaimed himself a 'decadent' +of the modern school of ethics; but he was nothing if not courteous. +So he replied briefly: + +"I shall be pleased to see you, of course, Mr. Adderley, but I must +warn you that I am a very busy man--I should not be able to give you +much time--" + +"No explanations--I understand!" And Adderley pressed his hand with +enthusiasm. "The very fact that you are busy in a village like this +adds to the peculiar charm of your personality! It is so strange!-- +so new--so fresh!" + +He smiled, and again pressed hands. + +"Good-bye! The mood will send me to you at the fitting moment!" + +He clapped his hat more firmly on his redundant red locks and +clambered into the waiting waggonette. Sir Morton followed him, and +the footman shut to the door of the vehicle with a bang as +unnecessary as his master's previous 'Damn!' + +"Good-morning, Mr. Walden!" then shouted the knight of bone-melting +prowess; "Much obliged to you, I'm sure!" + +Walden raised his hat with brief ceremoniousness, and then as the +carriage rolled away addressed the Reverend Mr. Leveson, who was +throwing himself with hippopotamus-like agility across his bicycle. + +"You follow, I suppose?" + +"Yes. I'm lunching at Badsworth Hall. The Duke wants to consult me +about his family records. You know I'm a bit of an authority on such +points!" + +Walden smiled. + +"I believe you are! But mind you calendar the ducal deeds +carefully," he said. "A slip in the lineal descent of the Lumptons +might affect the whole prestige of the British Empire!" + +A light shone in his clear blue eyes,--a flashing spark of battle. +Leveson stayed his bicycle a moment, wobbling on it uneasily. + +"Lumpton goes back a good way," he said airily; "I shall take him up +when I have gone through the history of the Vancourts. I'm on that +scent now. I shall make a good bit of business directly Miss +Vancourt returns; she'll pay for anything that will help her to +stiffen her back and put more side on." + +"Really!" ejaculated Walden, coldly. "I should have thought her +forebears would have saved her from snobbery." + +"Not a bit of it!" declared Leveson, beginning to start the muscles +of his grand-pianoforte legs with energy; "Rapid as a firework, and +vain as a peacock! Ta!" + +And fixing a small cap firmly on the back of his very large head, he +worked his wheel with treadmill regularity and was soon out of +sight. + +Walden stood alone in the churchyard, lost for a brief space in +meditation. The solemn strains of the organ which the schoolmistress +was still playing, floated softly out from the church to the +perfumed air, and the grave melodious murmur made an undercurrent of +harmony to the clear bright warbling of a skylark, which, beating +its wings against the sunbeams, rose ever higher and higher above +him. + +"What petty souls we are!" he murmured; "Here am I feeling actually +indignant because this fellow Leveson, who has less education and +knowledge than my dog Nebbie, assumes to have some acquaintance with +Miss Vancourt! What does it matter? What business is it of mine? If +she cares to accept information from an ignoramus, what is it to do +with me? Nothing! Yet,--what a blatant ass the fellow is! Upon my +word, it does me good to say it--a blatant ass! And Sir Morton +Pippitt is another!" + +He laughed, and lifting his hat from his forehead, let the soft wind +breathe refreshing coolness on his uncovered hair. + +"There are decided limits to Christian love!" he said, the laughter +still dancing in his eyes. "I defy--I positively defy anyone to love +Leveson! 'The columns and capitals are all wrong' are they?" And he +gave a glance back at the beautiful little church in its exquisite +design and completed perfection."'Out of keeping with early Norman +walls!' Wise Leveson! He ignores all periods of transition as if +they had never existed--as if they had no meaning for the thinker as +well as the architect--as if the movement upward from the Norman, to +the Early Pointed style showed no indication of progress! And +whereas a church should always be a veritable 'sermon in stone' +expressive of the various generations that have wrought their best +on it, he limits himself to the beginning of things! I wonder what +Leveson was in the beginning of things? Possibly an embryo +Megatherium!" + +Broadly smiling, he walked to the gate communicating with his own +garden, opened it, and passed through. Nebbie was waiting for him on +the lawn, and greeted him with the usual effusiveness. He returned +to his desk, and to the composition of his sermon, but his thoughts +were inclined to wander. Sir Morton Pippitt, the Duke of Lumpton, +and Lord Mawdenham hovered before him like three dull puppets in a +cheap show; and he was inclined to look up the name of Marius +Longford in one of the handy guides to contemporary biography, in +order to see if that flaccid and fish-like personage had really done +anything In the world to merit his position as a shining luminary of +the 'Savage and Savile.' Accustomed as he was to watch the ebb and +flow of modern literature, he had not yet sighted either the +Longford straw or the Adderley cork, among the flotsam and jetsam of +that murky tide. And ever and again Sir Morton Pippitt's coarse +chuckle, combined with the covert smiles of Sir Morton's +'distinguished' friends, echoed through his mind in connection with +the approaching dreaded invasion of Miss Vancourt into the happy +quietude of the village of St. Rest, till he experienced a sense of +pain and aversion almost amounting to anger. Why, he asked himself, +seeing she had stayed so long away from her childhood's home, could +she not have stayed away altogether? The swift and brilliant life of +London was surely far more suited to one who, according to 'Putty' +Leveson, was 'rapid as a firework, and vain as a peacock.' But was +'Putty' Leveson always celebrated for accuracy in his statements? +No! Certainly not--yet--" + +Then something seemed to fire him with a sudden resolution, for he +erased the first lines of the sermon he had begun, and altered his +text, which had been: "Glory, honour and peace to every man that +worketh good." And in its place he chose, as a more enticing subject +of discourse: + +"The ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of +God, of great price." + + + + +V + + +The warm bright weather continued. Morning after morning dawned in +unclouded sunshine, and when Saturday concluded the first five days +of the 'May-moneth,' the inhabitants of St. Rest were disposed to +concede that it was just possible they might have what they called +'a spell of fair weather.' Saturday was the general 'cleaning-up +day' in the village--the day when pails of water were set out in +unexpected places for the unwary to trip over; when the old +flagstones poured with soapsuds that trickled over the toes of too- +hasty passers-by; when cottage windows were violently squirted at +with the aid of garden-syringes and hose,--and when Adam Frost, the +sexton, was always to be found meditating, and even surreptitiously +drinking beer, in a quiet corner of the churchyard, because he was +afraid to go home, owing to the persistent housewifely energy of his +better half, who 'washed down' everything, 'cleaned out' everything, +and had, as she forcibly expressed it, 'the Sunday meals on her +mind.' It was a day, too, when Bainton, released from his gardening +duties at the rectory at noon, took a thoughtful stroll by himself, +aware that his 'Missis' was scrubbing the kitchen, and 'wouldn't +have him muckin' about,'--and when John Walden, having finished his +notes for the Sunday's sermon, felt a sense of ease and relief, and +considered himself at liberty to study purely Pagan literature, such +as The Cratylus of Plato. But on this special Saturday he was not +destined to enjoy complete relaxation. Mrs. Spruce had sent an +urgent appeal to him to 'kindly step up to the Manor in the +afternoon.' And Mrs. Spruce's husband, a large, lumbering, simple- +faced old fellow, in a brown jacket and corduroys, had himself come +with the message, and having delivered it, stood on Walden's +threshold, cap in hand, waiting for a reply. John surveyed his +awkward, peasant-like figure with a sense of helplessness,--excuses +and explanations he knew would be utterly lost on an almost deaf +man. Submitting to fate, he nodded his head vigorously, and spoke as +loudly as he judged needful. + +"All right, Spruce! Say I'll come!" + +"Jes' what I told her, sir," answered Spruce, in a remarkably gentle +tone; "It's a bit okkard, but if she doos her dooty, no 'arm can +'appen, no matter if it's all the riches of the yearth." + +John felt more helpless than ever. What was the man talking about? +He drew closer and spoke in a more emphatic key. + +"Look here, Spruce! Tell your wife I'll come after luncheon. Do you +hear? Af-ter lun-cheon!" + +Spruce put one hand to his ear and smiled blandly. + +"Ezackly, sir! I quite agrees with ye; but women are allus a bit +worrity-like, and of course there's a deal to do, and she got +frightened with the keys, and when she saw them fine clothes, and +what not,--so I drawed her a glass of cherry-cordial, an' sez I, +'Now, old 'ooman,' sez I, 'don't skeer yerself into fits. I'll fetch +the passon to ye.' And with that, she seemed easier in her mind. +Lord love ye!--it's a great thing to fetch the passon at once when +there's anything a bit wrong. So, if you'd step up, sir?--" + +Driven almost to despair, Walden put his lips close to the old man's +obstinate ear. + +"Yes," he bellowed--"af-ter lun-cheon! Yes! Ye-es!" + +His reply at last penetrated the closed auricular doors of Spruce's +brain. + +"Thank you, kindly, sir, I'm sure," he said, still in the same meek +and quiet tone. "And if I might make so bold, sir, seein' there's +likely to be changes up at the Manor, if it should be needful to +speak for me and my old 'ooman, p'raps you'd be so good, sir? We +wouldn't like to leave the old place now, sir---" + +His soft, hesitating voice faltered, and he suddenly brushed his +hand across his poor dim eyes. The pathos of this hint was not lost +on Walden, who, forgetting all his own momentary irritation, rose +manfully to the occasion and roared down the old man's ears like one +of the far-famed 'Bulls of Bashan.' + +"Don't worry!" he yelled, his face becoming rapidly crimson with his +efforts; "I'll see you all right! You sha'n't leave the Manor if I +can prevent it! I'll speak for you! Cheer up! Do you hear! Che-er +up!" + +Spruce heard very clearly this time, and smiled. "Thank you, Passon! +God bless you! I'm sure you'll help us, if so be the lady is a hard +one--" + +He trusted himself to say no more, but with a brief respectful +salutation, put on his cap and turned away. + +Left alone, Walden drew a long breath, and wiped his brow. To make +poor old Spruce hear was a powerful muscular exertion. Nebbie had +been so much astonished at the loud pitch of his master's voice, +that he had retired under a sofa in alarm, and only crawled out now +as Spruce departed, with small anxious waggings of his tail. Walden +patted the animal's head and laughed. + +"Mind you don't get deaf in your old age, Nebbie!" he said. "Phew! A +little more shouting like that and I should be unable to preach to- +morrow!" + +Still patting the dog's head, his eyes gradually darkened and his +brow became clouded. + +"Poor Spruce!" he murmured. "'Help him, if so be the lady is a hard +one!' Already in fear of her! I expect they have heard something-- +some ill-report--probably only too correctly founded. Yet, how it +goes against the grain of manhood to realise that any 'lady' may be +'a hard one!' But, alas!--what a multitude of 'hard ones' there are! +Harder than men, perhaps, if all the truth were known!" + +And there was a certain sternness and rooted aversion in him to that +dim approaching presence of the unknown heiress of Abbot's Manor. He +experienced an instinctive dislike of her, and was positively +certain that the vague repugnance would deepen into actual +antipathy. + +"One cannot possibly like everybody," he argued within himself, in +extenuation of what he felt was an unreasonable mental attitude; +"'And modern fashionable women are among the most unlikeable of all +human creatures. Any one of them in such a village as this would be +absurdly out of place." + +Thus self-persuaded, his mood was a singular mixture of pity and +resentment when, in fulfilment of his promise, he walked that +afternoon up the winding road which led to the Manor, and avoiding +the lodge gates, passed through a rustic turnstile he knew well and +so along a path across meadows and through shrubberies to the house. +The path was guarded by a sentinel board marked 'Private. +Trespassers will be prosecuted.' But in all the years he had lived +at St. Rest, he cared nothing for that. As rector of the parish he +had his little privileges. Nebbie trotted at his heels with the air +of a dog accustomed to very familiar surroundings. The grass on +either side was springing up long and green,--delicate little field +flowers were peeping through it here and there, and every now and +then there floated upwards the strong sweet incense of the young +wild thyme. The way he had chosen to walk was known as a 'short cut' +to Abbot's Manor, and ten minutes of easy striding brought him into +the dewy coolness of a thicket of dark firs, at the end of which, +round a sharp turn, the fine old red brick and timbered gables of +the house came into full view. He paused a moment, looking somewhat +regretfully at the picture, warmly lit up by the glow of the bright +sun,--a picture which through long habitude of observation had grown +very sweet to him. It was not every day that such a house as Abbot's +Manor came within reach of the archaeologist and antiquarian. The +beautiful tiled-roof--the picturesque roughness and crookedness of +the architectural lines of the whole building, so different to the +smooth, hard, angular imitations of half-timbered work common in +these degenerate days, were a delight to the eyes to rest upon,--a +wealth of ivy clung thickly to the walls and clambered round the +quaint old chimneys;--some white doves clustered in a group on the +summit of one broad oak gable, were spreading their snowy wings to +the warm sun and discussing their domestic concerns in melodious +cooings;--the latticed windows, some of which in their unspoilt +antiquity of 'horn' panes were a particular feature of the house, +were all thrown open,--but to Walden's sensitive observation there +seemed a different atmosphere about the place,--a suggestion of +change and occupation which was almost startling. + +He paced slowly on, and arrived at the outside gate, which led into +a square old-fashioned court, such as was common to Tudor times, +paved on three sides and planted with formal beds of flowers, the +whole surrounded by an ancient wall. The gate was ajar, and pushing +it open he passed in, glancing for a moment at the grey weather- +beaten sun-dial in the middle of the court which told him it was +three-o'clock. For four centuries, at least, that self-same dial had +marked the hour in that self-same spot, a silent commentary on the +briefness of human existence, as compared with its own strange non- +sentient lastingness. The sound of Walden's footsteps on the old +paving-stones awoke faint echoes, and startled away a robin from a +spray of blossoming briar-rose, and as he walked up to the great +oaken porch of entrance,--a porch heavily carved with the +Vaignecourt or Vancourt emblems, and as deep and wide in its +interior as a small room, an odd sense came over him that he was no +longer an accustomed visitor to a beautiful 'show house,' so much as +a kind of trespasser on forbidden ground. The thick nail-studded +doors, clamped with huge bolts and bars, stood wide open; no servant +was on the threshold to bid him enter, and for a moment he +hesitated, uncertain whether to ring the bell, or to turn back and +go away, when suddenly Mrs. Spruce emerged from a shadowy corner +leading to the basement, and hailed his appearance with an +exclamation of evident relief. + +"Thank the Lord and His goodness, Passon Walden, here you are at +last! I'd made up my mind the silly fool of a Spruce had brought me +the wrong message;--a good meanin' man, but weak in the upper +storey, 'cept where trees is concerned and clearing away brushwood, +when I'd be bold to say he's as handy as they make 'em--but do, for +mercy's sake, Passon, step inside and see how we've got on, for it's +not so bad as it might have been, an' I've seen worse done at a few +days' notice than even myself with hired hands on a suddint could +ever do. Step in, sir, step in!--we're leavin' the door open to let +the sun in a bit to warm the hall, for the old stained glass do but +filter it through at its best; not but that we ain't had a fire in +it night and mornin' ever since we had Miss Vancourt's letter." + +Walden made no attempt to stem the flow of the worthy woman's +discourse. From old experience, he knew that to be an impossible +task. So he stepped in as he was bidden, and looked round the grand +old hall, decorated with ancient armour, frayed banners and worn +scutcheons, feeling regretfully that perhaps he was looking at it so +for the last time. No one more than he had appreciated the simple +dignity of its old-world style, or had more correctly estimated the +priceless value of the antique oak panelling that covered its walls. +He loved the great ingle-nook, set deep back as it were, in the very +bosom of the house, with its high and elaborately carved benches on +each side, and its massive armorial emblems wrought in black oak, +picked out with tarnished gold, crimson and azure,--he appreciated +every small gleam and narrow shaft of colour reflected by the strong +sun through the deeply-tinted lozenge panes of glass that filled the +lofty oriel windows on either side;--and the stuffed knight-in- +armour, a model figure 'clad in complete steel,' of the fourteenth +century, which stood, holding a spear in its gauntleted hand near +the doorway leading to the various reception rooms, was almost a +personal friend. Mrs. Spruce, happily unconscious of the deepening +melancholy which had begun to tinge his thoughts, led the way +through the hall, still garrulously chirping. + +"We've cleaned up wonderfully, considerin'--and it was just the +Lord's providence that at Riversford I found a decent butler and +footman what had jes' got the sack from Sir Morton Pippitt's and +were lookin' for a place temp'ry, preferring London later, so I +persuaded both of 'em to come and try service with a lady for once, +instead of with a fussy old ancient, who turns red and blue in the +face if he's kept waitin' 'arf a second--and I picked up with a gel +what the footman was engaged to, and that'll keep HIM a fixture,-- +and I found the butler had a hi on a young woman at the public-house +'ere,--so that's what you may call an 'hattraction,' and then I got +two more 'andy gels which was jes' goin' off to see about Mrs. +Leveson's place, and when I told 'em that there the sugar was +weighed out, and the tea dispensed by the ounce, as if it was +chemicals, and that please the Lord and anybody else that likes, +they'd have better feedin' if they came along with me, they struck a +bargain there and then. And then as if there was a special powerful +blessin' on it all, who should come down Riversford High Street but +one of the best cooks as ever took a job, a Scotch body worth her +weight in gold, and she'd be a pretty big parcel to weigh, too, but +she can send up a dinner for one as easy as for thirty, which is as +good a test as boilin' a tater---and 'as got all her wits about her. +She was just goin' to advertise for a house party or shootin' job, +so we went into the Crown Inn at Riversford and had tea together and +settled it. And they all come up in a wagginette together as merry +as larks;--so the place is quite lively, Passon, I do assure you, +'specially for a woman like me which have had it all to myself and +lonesome like for many years. I've made Kitty useful, too, dustin' +and polishin'--gels can't begin their trainin' too early, and all +has been going on fine;--not but what there's a mighty sight of +eatin' and drinkin' now, but it's the Lord's will that human bein's +should feed even as the pigs do, 'specially domestic servants, and +there's no helpin' of it nor hinderin'--but this mornin's business +did put me out a bit, and I do assure you I haven't got over it yet, +but howsomever, Spruce says 'Do yer dooty!'--and I'm a-doin' it to +the best of my belief and, 'ope--still it do make my mind a bit +ricketty--" + +Silently Walden followed her through the rooms, saying little in +response to her remarks, 'ricketty' or otherwise, and noting all the +various changes as he went. + +In the dining-room there was a great transformation. The fine old +Cordova leather chairs were all released from their brown holland +coverings,--the long-concealed Flemish tapestries were again +unrolled and disclosed to the light of day--valuable canvases that +had been turned to the wall to save their colour from the too +absorbing sunshine, were now restored to their proper positions, and +portraits by Vandyke, and landscapes by Corot gave quite a stately +air of occupation to a room, which being large and lofty, had always +seemed to Walden the loneliest in the house for lack of a living +presence. He trod in the restless wake of Mrs. Spruce, however, +without comment other than a word of praise such as she expected, +for the general result of her labours in getting the long-disused +residence into habitable condition, and was only moved to something +like enthusiasm when he reached what was called 'the morning room,' +an apartment originally intended to serve as a boudoir for that +beautiful Mrs. Vancourt, the bride who never came home. Here all the +furniture was of the daintiest design,--here rich cushions of silk +and satin were lavishly piled on the luxurious sofas and in the deep +easy-chairs,--curtains of cream brocade embroidered by hand with +garlands of roses, draped the sides of the deep embrasured window- +nook whence two wide latticed doors opened outwards to a smooth +terrace bordered with flowers, where two gardeners were busy rolling +the rich velvety turf,--and beyond it stretched a great lawn shaded +with ancient oaks and elms that must have seen the days of Henry +VII. The prospect was fair and soothing to the eyes, and Walden. +gazing at it, gave a little involuntary sigh of pleasure. + +"This is beautiful!" he said, speaking more to himself than to +anyone--"Perfectly beautiful!" + +"It is so, sir," agreed Mrs. Spruce, with an air of comfortably +placid conviction; "There's no doubt about it--it's as beautiful a +room as could be made for a queen, though I say it--but whether our +new lady will like it, is quite another question. You see, sir, this +room was always kept locked in the Squire's time, and so was all the +other rooms as was got ready for the wife as never lived to use +them. The Squire wouldn't let a soul inside the doors, not even his +daughter. And now, sir, will you please read the letter I got this +morning, which as you will notice, is quite nice-like and kindly, +more than the other--onny when the boxes came I was a bit upset. You +see the letter was registered and had the keys inside it all right." + +Walden took the missive in reluctant silence. The same thick +notepaper, odorous with crushed violets--the same bold, dashing +handwriting he had seen before, but the matter expressed in it was +worded somehow in a totally different tone to that of the previous +letter from the same hand. + +"DEAR MRS. SPRUCE," it ran: "I enclose the keys of my boxes which I +am sending in advance, as I never travel with luggage. Kindly unpack +all the contents and arrange them in the wardrobes and presses of my +mother's rooms. If I remember rightly, these rooms have never been +used, hut I intend to take them for myself now, so please have +everything prepared. I have received your letter in which you say +there is some difficulty in getting good servants at so short a +notice. I quite understand this, and am sure you. will arrange for +the best. Should everything not be quite satisfactory, we can make +alterations when I come. I expect to arrive home in time for +afternoon tea. MARYLLIA VANCOURT." + +Walden folded up the letter and gave it back to its owner. + +"Well, so far, you have nothing to complain of, Mrs. Spruce," he +said, with a little smile; "The lady is evidently prepared to excuse +any deficiencies arising from the hurry of your preparations." + +"Yes, sir, that may be," answered Mrs. Spruce; "but if so be you saw +what I've seen you mightn't take it so easily. Now, sir, if you'll +follow me, you'll be able to judge of the quandary we was in till we +got our senses back." + +Beginning to be vaguely amused and declining to speculate as to the +'quandary' which according to the good woman had resulted in a +species of lunacy, Walden followed as he was told, and slowly +ascended the broad staircase, one of the finest specimens of Tudor +work in all England, with its richly turned balustrades and +grotesquely carved headpieces, but as he reached the upper landing, +he halted abruptly, seeing through an open door mysterious +glimmerings of satins and laces, to which he was entirely +unaccustomed. + +"What room is that?" he enquired. + +"That's what we used to call 'the bride's room,' sir," replied Mrs. +Spruce, smoothing down her black skirts with an air of fussy +importance, and heaving a sigh; "Miss Maryllia's mother was to have +had it. Don't be afraid to step inside, Passon; everythink's been +turned out and aired, and there's not a speck of damp or dismals +anywhere, and you'll see for yourself what a time we're 'avin' +though we're gettin' jes' a bit straight now, and I've 'ad Nancy +Pyrle as is 'andy with her pencil to mark things down as they come +to 'and. Step inside, Passon Walden,--do step inside!" + +But Walden, held back by some instinctive fastidiousness, declined +to move further than the threshold of this hitherto closed and +sacredly guarded chamber. Leaning against the doorway he looked in +wonderingly, with a vague feeling of bewilderment, while Mrs. +Spruce, trotting busily ahead, gave instructions to a fresh-faced +country lass, who, breathing very hard, as though she were running, +was carefully shaking out what seemed to be a fairy's robe of filmy +white lace, glistening with pearls. + +"Ye see, Passon, this is what all my trouble's about;"--she said-- +"Fancy 'avin' to unpack all these grand clothes, and sort 'em as +they comes, not knowin' whether they mayn't fall to bits in our +'ands, some of 'em bein' fine as cobwebs, an' such body linen as was +never made for any mortal woman in St. Rest, all lace an' silk an' +little ribbins! When the trunks arrived an' we got 'em into the +'all, I felt THAT faint, I do assure ye! For me to 'ave to unpack +an' open 'em, and take out all the things inside,--ah, Passon, it's +an orful 'sponsibility, seein' there's jewels packed among the +dresses quite reckless-like, rubies an' sapphires an' diamants, +somethin' amazin', and we've taken a reg'lar invent'ry of them all +lest somethin' might be missin', for the Lord He only knows whether +there might not be fifty thousand pounds of proputty in one of them +little kicketty boxes, all velvet and satin, made just as if they +was sweetmeats, only when ye looks inside ye sees a sparklin' stone +glisterin' at ye, and ye know it's wuth a fortune! I do assure ye, +Passon, I've never seen such things in all my life! Miss Maryllia +must be mortal extravagant, for there's enough in one o' them boxes +to feed the whole village of St. Best for several years. Ah! Passon, +I do assure ye, I've thought of Scripter many a time this mornin'; +'Whose adornin' let it be the adornin' of a meek and quiet spirit,' +which is a hornament and no mistake!" + +Walden made no remark. It never even occurred to him just then that +Mrs. Spruce was unconsciously rendering in her own particular +fashion the text he had chosen for the next day's sermon. Never in +all his life before had he experienced such strongly mingled +sensations of repulsion and interest as at that moment. With a kind +of inward indignation, he asked himself what business he had to be +there looking curiously into a woman's room, littered with all the +fripperies and expensive absurdities of a woman's apparel? Above +all, why should he be so utterly ridiculous and inconsequential in +his own mind as to find himself deeply fascinated by such a +spectacle? In all the years he had passed with his sister, so long +as she had lived, he had never seen such a bewildering disorder of +feminine clothes. He had never had the opportunity of noting the +pathetic difference existing between the toilette surroundings of a +woman who is strong and well, and of one who is deprived of all +natural coquetry by the cruel ravages of long sickness and disease. +His sister, beautiful even in her incurable physical affliction, had +always borne that affliction more or less in mind, and had attired +herself with a severely simple taste,--her bedroom, where she had +had to pass so many weary hours of suffering, had been a model of +almost Spartan-like simplicity, and her dressing-table was wont to +be far more conspicuous for melancholy little medicine-phials than +for flashing, silver-stoppered cut-glass bottles, exhaling the +rarest perfumes. Then, since her death, Walden had lived so entirely +alone, that the pretty vanities of bright and healthy women were +quite unfamiliar to him. + +The present glittering display of openly expressed frivolity seemed +curiously new, and vaguely alarming. He was angry with it, yet in a +manner attracted. He found himself considering, with a curious +uneasiness, two small nondescript pink objects that were lying on +the floor at some distance from each other. At a first glance they +appeared to be very choice examples of that charming orchid known as +the 'Cypripedium,'--but on closer examination it was evident they +were merely fashionable evening shoes. Again and again he turned his +eyes away from them,--and again and again his glance involuntarily +wandered back and rested on their helpless-looking little pointed +toes and ridiculously high heels. Considered from a purely +'sanitary' point of view, they were the most wicked, the most +criminal, the most absolutely unheard-of shoes ever seen. Why, no +human feet of the proper size could possibly get into them, unless +they were squeezed--- + +"Yes, squeezed!"--repeated Walden inwardly, with a sense of +unreasonable irritation; "All the toes cramped and the heels +pinched--everything out of joint and distorted--false feet, in fact, +like everything else false that has to do with the modern +fashionable woman!" + +There they lay,-apparently innocent;--but surely detestable, nay +even Satanic objects. He determined he would have them removed-- +picked up--cast out--thrust into the nearest drawer, anywhere, in +fact, provided they were out of his stern, clerical sight. Mrs. +Spruce was continuing conversation in brisk tones, but whether she +was addressing him, or the buxom young woman, who, under her +directions was shaking out or folding up the various garments taken +out of the various boxes, he did not know, and, as a matter of fact, +he did not care. She sounded like Tennyson's 'Brook,' with a 'Men +may come and men may go, but I go on for ever' monotonousness that +was as depressing as it was incessant. + +He determined to interrupt the purling stream. + +"Mrs. Spruce," he began,--then hesitated, as she turned briskly +towards him, looking like a human clothes-prop, with both fat arms +extended in order to keep well away from contact with the floor a +gauzy robe sparkling all over with tiny crystalline drops, which, +catching the sunbeams, flashed like little points of flame. + +"Beggin' your pardon, Passon, did you speak?" + +"Yes. I think you should not let anything lie about, as, for +example,--those--" and he pointed to the objectionable shoes with an +odd sense of discomfiture; "They appear to be of a delicate colour +and might easily get soiled." + +Mrs. Spruce peered round over the sparkling substance she held, +looking like a very ancient and red-faced cherub peeping over the +rim of a moonlit cloud. + +"Well, I never!" she exclaimed; "What a hi you have, Passon! What a +hi! Now them shoes missed me altogether! They must have dropped out +of some of the dresses we've been unfoldin', for the packin's quite +reckless-like, and ain't never been done by no trained maid. All +hustled-bustled like into the boxes anyhow, as if the person what +had done it was in a mortal temper or hurry. Lord! Don't I know how +people crams things in when they's in a rage! Ah! Wait till I get +rid of all these diamants," and she waddled to the deep oak +wardrobe, which stood open, and carefully hung the glittering +garment up by its two sleeveholes on two pegs,--then turned round +with a sigh. "It's orful what the world's coming to, Passon Walden,- +-orful! Fancy diamants all sewed on to a gown! I wouldn't let my +Kitty in 'ere for any amount of money! She'd be that restless and +worritin' and wantin' the like things for 'erself, and the mortal +mischief it would be, there's no knowin'! Why, the first +'commercial' as come round 'ere with 'is pack and 'is lies, would +get her runnin' off with 'im! Ah! That's jes' where leddies makes +such work for Satan's hands to do; they never thinks of the envy and +jealousy and spite as eats away the 'arts of poor gels what sees all +these fine things, and ain't got no chance for to have them for +theirselves!" Here, sidling along the floor, she picked up the pink +shoes to which Walden had called her attention, first one and then +the other. "Well! Call them shoes! My Kitty couldn't get her 'and +into 'em! And as for a foot fittin' in! What a foot! It can't be +much bigger'n a baby's. Well, well, what a pair o' shoes!" + +She stood looking at them, a fat smile on her face, and Walden moved +uneasily from the threshold. + +"I'll leave you now, Mrs. Spruce," he said; "You have plenty to do, +and I'm in the way here." + +"Well, now, Passon, that do beat me!" said Mrs. Spruce plaintively; +"I thought you was a-goin' to help us!" + +"Help you? I?" and Walden laughed aloud; "My dear woman, do you +think I can unpack and unfold ladies' dresses? Of all the many +incongruous uses a clergyman was ever put to, wouldn't that be the +most impossible?" + +"Lord love ye, Passon Walden, I ain't askin' ye no such thing;" +retorted Mrs. Spruce; "Don't ye think it! For there's nothin' like a +man, passon or no passon, for makin' rumples of every bit of clothes +he touches, even his own coats and weskits, and I wouldn't let ye +lay hands on any o' these things to save my life. Why, they'd go to +pieces at the mere sight of yer fingers, they're so flimsy! What I +thought ye might do, was to be a witness to us while we sorted them +all. It's a great thing to have a man o' God as a witness to the +likes o' this work!" + +Again Walden laughed, this time with very genuine heartiness, though +he did wish Mrs. Spruce would put away the troublesome pink shoes +which she still held, and to which he found his eyes still +wandering. + +"Nonsense! You don't want any witness!" he said gaily; "What are you +thinking about, Mrs. Spruce? When Miss Vancourt is here, all you +have to do is to go over every item of her property with her, and +see that she finds it all right. If anything is missing, it's not +your fault." + +"If anythink's missing," echoed Mrs. Spruce in sepulchral tones, +"then the Lord knows what we'll do, for it'll be all over, so far as +we're consarned! Beggars in the street'll be kings to us. Passon, I +reckon ye doesn't read the newspapers much, does ye?" + +"Pretty fairly," responded Walden still smiling; "I keep myself as +well acquainted as I can with what is going on in the world." + +"Does ye now?" And Mrs. Spruce surveyed him admiringly. "Well, now, +I shouldn't have thought it, for ye seems as inn'cent as a babby I +do assure ye; ye seems jes' that. But mebbe ye doesn't get the same +kind o' newspapers which we poor folks gets--reg'ler weekly penny +lists o' murders, soocides, railway haccidents, burgul'ries, fires, +droppin's down dead suddint, struck by lightnin' and collapsis, with +remedies pervided for all in the advertisements invigoratin' to both +old and young, bone and sinew, brain and body, whether it be pills, +potions, tonics, lotions, ointment or min'ral waters. Them's the +sort o' papers we gets, or rather the 'Mother Huff' takes 'em all in +for us, an' the 'ole village drinks the 'orrors an' the medicines in +with the ale. Ah! It's mighty edifyin', Passon, I do assure ye--and +many of us goes to church on Sundays and reads the 'orrors an' +medicines in the arternoon, and whether we remembers your sermon or +the 'orrors an' medicines most, the Lord only knows! But it's in +them papers I sees how fine leddies goes on nowadays, and if they +misses so much as a two-and-sixpenny 'airpin, some of 'em out of +sheer spite, will 'aul a gel up 'fore the p'lice and 'ave 'er in +condemned cells in no time, so that ye see, Passon, if so be Miss +Maryllia counts over the sparkling diamants and one's lost, we'll +all be brought 'fore Sir Morton Pippitt as county mag'strate afore +we've 'ad time to look at our breakfasts. Wherefore, I sez, why not +'ave a man o' God as witness?" + +"Why not, indeed!" returned Walden, playfully; "but your 'man of +God' won't be me, Mrs. Spruce! I'm off! I congratulate you on your +preparations, and I think you are doing everything splendidly! If +Miss Vancourt does not look upon you as a positive treasure, I shall +be very much mistaken! Good afternoon!" + +"Passon, Passon!" urged Mrs. Spruce; "Ye baint goin' already?" + +"I must! To-morrow's Sunday, remember!" + +"Ah!--that it is!" she sighed, "And my mind sorely misgives me that +I never asked the new servants whether they was 'Igh, Low or Roman. +It fairly slipped my memory, and they seemed never to think of it +themselves. Why didn't they remind me, Passon?--can you answer me +that? Which it proves the despisableness of our naturs that we never +thinks of the religious sides of ourselves, but only our wages and +stummicks. Wages and stummicks comes fust, and the care of the Lord +Almighty arterwards. But, there, there!--we're jest a perverse and +stiffnecked generation!" + +Walden turned away. Mrs. Spruce, at last deciding to resign her hold +of the pink shoes, over whose pointed toes she had been moralising, +gave them into the care of the rosy-cheeked Phyllis, who was +assisting her in her labours, and followed her 'man of God' out to +the landing. + +"Do ye reely think we're doin' quite right, and that we're quite +safe, Passon?" she queried, anxiously. + +"You're doing quite right, and you're quite safe," replied Walden, +laughing. "Go on in your present path of virtue, Mrs. Spruce, and +all will be well! I really cannot wait a moment longer. Don't +trouble to come and show me out,--I know my way!" + +He sprang down the broad stairs as lightly as a boy, leaving Mrs. +Spruce at the summit, looking wistfully after him. + +"It's a pity he couldn't stay!" she murmured, dolefully; "There's a +lace petticut which must be worth a fortune!--I'd have liked 'im to +see it!" + +But Walden was beyond recall. On reaching the bottom of the +staircase he had turned into the picture gallery, a long, lofty room +panelled with Jacobean oak on both sides and hung with choice +canvases, the work of the best masters, three or four fine +Gainsboroughs, Peter Lelys and Romneys being among the most notable +examples. At one end of the gallery a close curtain of dark green +baize covered a picture which was understood to be the portrait of +the Mrs. Vancourt who had never lived to see her intended home. The +late Squire had himself put up that curtain, and no one had ever +dared to lift it. Mrs. Spruce had often been asked to do so, but she +invariably refused, 'not wishin' to be troubled with ghosteses of +the old Squire,' as she frankly explained. Facing this, at the +opposite end, hung another picture, disclosed in all its warm and +brilliant colouring to the light of day,--the picture of Mary Elia +Adelgisa de Vaignecourt, who, in the time of Charles the Second had +been a noted beauty of the 'merry monarch's' reign, and whose +counterfeit presentment Mrs. Spruce had styled 'the lady in the +vi'let velvet.' John Walden had suddenly taken a fancy to look at +this portrait though for ten years he had known it well. + +He walked up to it now slowly, studying it critically as the light +fell on its rich colouring. The painted lady had a wonderfully +attractive face,--the face of a child, piquante, smiling and +provocative,--her eyes were witching blue, with a moonlight halo of +grey between the black pupil and the azure iris,--her mouth, a +trifle large, but pouting in the centre and curved in the 'Cupid's +bow' line, suggested sweetness and passion, and her hair,--but +surely her hair was indescribable! The painter of Charles the +Second's time had apparently found it difficult to deal with,--for +there was a warm brown wave there, a tiny reddish ripple behind the +small ear, and a flash of golden curls over the white brow, +suggestive of all the tints of spring and autumn sunshine. Habited +in a riding dress of velvet the colour of a purple pansy, Mary Elia +Adelgisa held her skirt, white gauntleted gloves, and riding whip +daintily in one hand,--her hat, a three-cornered piece of coquetry, +lay ready for wear, on a garden-seat hard by,--a blush rosebud was +fastened carelessly in her close-fitting bodice, which was turned +back with embroidered gold revers, and over her head, great forest +trees, heavy with foliage, met in an arch of green. John Walden +stood for a quiet three minutes, studying the picture intently and +also the superscription: "Mary Elia Adelgisa de Vaignecourt, Born +May 1st, 1651: Wedded her cousin, Geoffrey de Vaignecourt, June 5th, +1671: Died May 30th, 1681." + +"Not a very long life!" he mused: "All the Vaignecourts, or +Vancourts, have died somewhat early." + +He let his eyes rest again on the portrait lingeringly. + +"Mary Elia! I wonder if her descendant, 'Maryllia,' is anything +like her?" + +Slowly turning, he went out of the picture gallery, across the hall +and into the garden, where the faithful Nebbie was waiting for him, +amid a company of pigeons who were busy picking up what they fancied +from the gravelled path, and who were utterly unembarrassed by the +constant waggings of the terrier's rough tail. And he walked +somewhat abstractedly through the old paved court, past the +unsympathetic sun-dial, and out through the great gates, which were +guarded on either side by stone griffins, gripping in their paws +worn shields decorated with defaced tracings of the old Vaignecourt +emblems. Clematis clasped these fabulous beasts in a dainty embrace, +winding little tendrils of delicate green over their curved claws, +and festooning their savage-looking heads with large star-like +flowers of white and pale mauve, and against one of the weather- +beaten shields an early flowering red rose leaned its perfumed head +in blushing crimson confidence. Halting a moment in his onward pace, +Walden paused, and looked back at the scene regretfully. + +"Dear old place!" he said half aloud; "Many and many a happy hour +have I passed in it, loving it, reverencing it, honouring its every +stone,--as all such relics of a chivalrous and gracious past deserve +to be loved, reverenced and honoured. But I fear,--yes!--I fear I +shall never again see it quite as I have seen it for the past ten +years,--or as I see it now! New days, new ways! And I am not +progressive. To me the old days and old ways are best!" + + + + +VI + + +"And the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son and the Holy +Ghost, be amongst you and remain with you always!" + +So prayed John Walden, truly and tenderly, stretching out his hands +in benediction over the bent heads of his little congregation, which +responded with a fervent 'Amen.' + +Service was over, and the good folks of St. Rest wended their +gradual way out of church to the full sweet sound of an organ +voluntary, played by Miss Janet Eden, who, as all the village said +of her, 'was a rare 'and at doin' the music proper.' Each man and +woman wore their Sunday best,--each girl had some extra bit of +finery on, and each lad sported either a smart necktie or wore a +flower in his buttonhole, as a testimony to the general festal +feeling inspired by a day when ordinary work is set aside for the +mingled pleasures of prayer, meditation and promiscuous love-making. +The iconoclasts who would do away with the appointed seventh day of +respite from the hard labours of every-day life, deserve hanging +without the mercy of trial. A due observance of Sunday, and +especially the English country observance of Sunday, is one of the +saving graces of our national constitution. In the large towns, a +growing laxity concerning the 'keeping of the seventh day holy,' is +plainly noticeable, the pernicious example of London 'smart' society +doing much to lessen the old feeling of respect for the day and its +sacredness; but in small greenwood places, where it is still judged +decent and obedient to the laws of God, to attend Divine worship at +least once a day,--when rough manual toil is set aside, and the +weary and soiled labourer takes a pleasure in being clean, orderly +and cheerfully respectful to his superiors, Sunday is a blessing and +an educational force that can hardly be over-estimated. + +In such a peaceful corner as St. Rest it was a very day of days. +Tourists seldom disturbed its tranquillity, the 'Mother Huff' +public-house affording but sorry entertainment to such parties; the +motor-bicycle, with its detestable noise, insufferable odour and +dirty, oil-stained rider in goggled spectacles, was scarcely ever +seen,--and motor-cars always turned another way on leaving the +county town of Riversford, in order to avoid the sharp ascent from +the town, as well as the still sharper and highly dangerous descent +into the valley again, where the little mediaeval village lay +nestled. Thus it was enabled to gather to itself a strangely +beautiful halcyon calm on the Lord's Day,--and in fair Spring +weather like the present, dozed complacently under the quiet smile +of serene blue skies, soothed to sleep by the rippling flow of its +ribbon-like river, and receiving from hour to hour a fluttering halo +of doves' wings, as these traditional messengers of peace flew over +the quaint old houses, or rested on the gabled roofs, spreading out +their snowy tails like fans to the warmth of the sun. The churchyard +was the recognised meeting-place for all the gossips of the village +after the sermon was over and the blessing pronounced,--and the +brighter and warmer the weather, the longer and more desultory the +conversation. + +On this special Sunday, the worthy farmers and their wives, with +their various cronies and confidants, gathered together in larger +groups than usual, and lingered about more than was even their +ordinary habit. Their curiosity was excited,--so were their +faculties of criticism. The new servants from the Manor had attended +church, sitting all together in a smart orderly row, and suggesting +in their neat spick-and-span attire an unwonted note of novelty, of +fashion, of change, nay, even of secret and suppressed society +wickedness. Their looks, their attitudes, their whisperings, their +movements, furnished plenty of matter to talk about,--particularly +as Mrs. Spruce had apparently 'given herself airs' and marshalled +them in and marshalled them out again, without stopping to talk to +her village friends as usual,--which was indeed a veritable marvel,- +-or to vouchsafe any information respecting the expected return of +her new mistress, an impending event which was now well known +throughout the whole neighbourhood. Oliver Leach, the land agent, +had arrived at the church-door in an open dog-cart, and had sat +through the service looking as black as thunder, or as Bainton +elegantly expressed it: 'as cheerful as a green apple with a worm in +it.' Afterwards, he had driven off at a rattling pace, exchanging no +word with anyone. Such conduct, so the village worthies opined, was +bound to be included among the various signs and tokens which were +ominous of a coming revolution in the moral and domestic atmosphere +of St. Rest. + +Then again, the 'Passon's' sermon that morning had been something of +a failure. Walden himself, all the time he was engaged in preaching +it, had known that it was a lame, halting and perfunctory discourse, +and he had felt fully conscious that a patient tolerance of him on +the part of his parishioners had taken the place of the respectful +interest and attention they usually displayed. He was indeed sadly +at a loss concerning 'the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit.' He +had desired to recommend the cultivation of such a grace in the most +forcible manner, yet he found himself wondering why fashionable +women wore pink shoes much smaller than the natural size of the +human foot? To be 'meek and quiet' was surely an excellent thing, +but then it was impossible for any man with blood in his veins to +feel otherwise than honestly indignant at the extravagance displayed +by certain modern ladies in the selection of their gowns! Flashing +sparks of pearl and crystal sewn on cloud-like tissues and chiffons, +danced before his eyes, as he ponderously weighed out the spiritual +advantages of being meek and quiet; and his metaphors became as hazy +as the deductions he drew from his text were vague and difficult to +follow. He was uncomfortably conscious of a slight flush rising to +his face, as he met the bland enquiring stare of Sir Morton +Pippitt's former butler--now on 'temp'ry' service at the Manor,--he +became aware that there was also a new and rather pretty housemaid +beside the said butler, who whispered when she ought to have been +silent,--and he saw blankness on the fat face of Mrs. Spruce, a face +which was tied up like a round red damaged sort of fruit in a black +basket-like bonnet, fastened with very broad violet strings. Now +Mrs. Spruce always paid the most pious attention to his sermons, and +jogged her husband at regular intervals to prevent that worthy man +from dozing, though she knew he could not hear a word of anything +that was said, and that, therefore, he might as well have been +allowed to sleep,--but on this occasion John was sure that even he +failed to be interested in his observations on that 'ornament,' +which she called 'hornament,' of the meek and quiet spirit, +pronounced to be of such 'great price.' He realised that if any +'great price' was at all in question with her that morning, it was +the possible monetary value of her new lady's wardrobe. So that on +the whole he was very glad when he came to the end of his ramble +among strained similes, and was able to retire altogether from the +gaze of the different pairs of eyes, cow-like, sheep-like, bird- +like, dog-like, and human, which in their faithful watching of his +face as he preached, often moved him to a certain embarrassment, +though seldom as much as on this occasion. With his disappearance +from the pulpit, and his subsequent retreat round by the back of the +churchyard into the privacy of his own garden, the tongues of the +gossips, restrained as long as their minister was likely to be +within earshot, broke loose and began to wag with glib rapidity. + +"Look 'ee 'ere, Tummas," said one short, thick-set man, addressing +Bainton; "Look 'ee 'ere--thy measter baint oop to mark this marnin'! +Seemed as if he couldn't find the ways nor the meanin's o' the Lord +nohow!" + +Bainton slowly removed his cap from his head and looked thoughtfully +into the lining, as though seeking for inspiration there, before +replying. The short, thick-set man was an important personage,--no +less than the proprietor of the 'Mother Huff' public-house; and not +only was he proprietor of the said public-house, but brewer of all +the ale he sold there. Roger Buggins was a man to be reckoned with, +and he expected to be treated with almost as much consideration as +the 'Passon' himself. Buggins wore a very ill-fitting black suit on +Sundays, which made him look like a cross between a waiter and an +undertaker; and he also supported on his cranium a very tall top-hat +with an extra wide brim, suggesting in its antediluvian shape a +former close acquaintance with cast-off clothing stores. + +"He baint himself,"--reiterated Buggins emphatically; "He was fair +mazed and dazed with his argifyin'. 'Meek and quiet sperrit'! Who +wants the like o' that in this 'ere mortal wurrld, where we all +commences to fight from the moment we lays in our cradles till the +last kick we gives 'fore we goes to our graves? Meek and quiet goes +to prison more often than rough and ready!" + +"Mebbe Passon Walden was thinkin' of Oliver Leach," suggested +Bainton with a slight twinkle in his eye; "And 'ow m'appen we'd best +be all of us meek and quiet when he's by. It might be so, Mr. +Buggins,--Passon's a rare one to guess as 'ow the wind blows nor'- +nor'-east sometimes in the village, for all that it's a warm day and +the peas comin' on beautiful. Eh, now, Mr. Buggins?" This with a +conciliatory air, for Bainton had a little reckoning at the 'Mother +Huff' and desired to be all that was agreeable to its proprietor. + +Buggins snorted a defiant snort. + +"Oliver Leach indeed!" he ejaculated. "Meek an' quiet suits him down +to the ground, it do! There's a man wot's likely to have a kindly +note of warnin' from my best fist, if he comes larrupin' round my +place too often. 'Ave ye 'eard as 'ow he's chalked the Five +Sisters?" + +"Now don't go for to say that!" expostulated Bainton gently. "'E +runs as near the wind as he can, but 'e'd never be stark starin' mad +enough to chalk the Five Sisters!" + +"Chalk 'em 'e HAS!" returned Buggins, putting quite a strong +aspirate where he generally left it out,--"And down they're comin' +on Wednesday marnin'. Which I sez yeste'day to Adam Frost 'ere: if +the Five Sisters is to lay low, what next?" + +"Ay! ay!" chorussed several other villagers who had been, listening +eagerly to the conversation; "You say true, Mr. Buggins--you say +gospel true. If the Five Sisters lay low, what next!" + +And dismal shakings of the head and rollings of the eyes from all +parties followed this proposition. + +"What next," echoed the sexton, Adam Frost, who on hearing his name +brought into the argument, showed himself at once ready to respond +to it. "Why next we'll not have a tree of any size anywhere near the +village, for if timber's to be sold, sold it will be, and the only +person we'll be able to rely on for a bit of green shade or shelter +will be Passon Walden, who wouldn't have a tree cut down anywhere on +his land, no, not if he was starving. Ah! If the old Squire were +alive he'd sooner have had his own 'ead chopped off than the Five +Sisters laid low!" + +By this time a considerable number of the villagers had gathered +round Roger Buggins as the centre of the discussion,--some out of +curiosity, and others out of a vague and entirely erroneous idea +that perhaps if they took the proper side of the argument +'refreshers' in the way of draughts of home-brewed ale at the +'Mother Huff' between church hours might be offered as an amicable +end to the conversation. + +"Someone should tell Miss Vancourt about it; she's coming home to +the Manor on Tuesday," suggested the barmaid of the 'Mother Huff,' a +smart-looking young woman, who was however looked upon with grave +suspicion by her feminine neighbours, because she dressed 'beyond +her station'; "P'raps she'd do something?" + +"Not she!" said Frost, cynically; "She's a fine lady,--been livin' +with 'Mericans what will eat banknotes for breakfast in order to +write about it to the papers arterwards. Them sort of women takes no +'count o' trees, except to make money out of 'em." + +Here there was a slight stir among the group, as they saw a familiar +figure slowly approaching them,--that of a very old man, wearing a +particularly clean smock-frock and a large straw hat, who came out +from under the church porch like a quaint, moving, mediaeval Dutch +picture. Shuffling along, one halting step at a time, and supporting +himself on a stout ash stick, this venerable personage made his way, +with a singular doggedness and determination of movement, up to the +group of gossips. Arriving among them he took off his straw hat, and +producing a blue spotted handkerchief from its interior wiped the +top of his bald head vigorously. + +"Now, what are ye at?" he said slowly; "What are ye at? All +clickettin' together like grasshoppers in a load of hay! What's the +mischief? Whose character are ye bitin' bits out of, like mice in an +old cheese? Eh? Lord! Lord! Eighty-nine years o' livin' wi' ye, +summer in and summer out, don't improve ye,--talk to ye as I will +and as I may, ye're all as mis'able sinners as ever ye was, and +never a saint among ye 'cept the one in the Sarky Fagus." + +Here, pausing for breath, the ancient speaker wiped his head again, +carefully flattening down with the action a few stray wisps of thin +white hair, while a smile of tranquil and superior wisdom spread +itself among the countless wrinkles of his sun-browned face, like a +ray of winter sunshine awakening rippling reflections on a half- +frozen pool. + +"We ain't doin' nothin', Josey!" said Buggins, almost timidly. + +"Nor we ain't sayin' nothin'," added Bainton. + +"We be as harmless as doves," put in Adam Frost with a sly chuckle; +"and we ain't no match for sarpints!" + +"Ain't you looking well, Mr. Letherbarrow!" ejaculated the smartly +dressed barmaid; "Just wonderful for your time of life!" + +"My time o' life?" And Josey Letherbarrow surveyed the young woman +with an inimitable expression of disdain; "Well, it's a time o' life +YOU'LL never reach, sane or sound, my gel, take my word for't! Fine +feathers makes fine birds, but the life is more'n the meat and the +body more'n raiment. And as for 'armless as doves and no match for +sarpints, ye may be all that and more, which is no sort of argyment +and when I sez 'what mischief are ye all up to' I sez it, and +expecks a harnser, and a harnser I'll 'ave, or I'll reckon to know +the reason why!" + +The men and women glanced at each other. It was unnecessary, and it +would certainly be inhuman, to irritate old Josey Letherbarrow, +considering Ms great age and various infirmities. + +"We was jest a-sayin' a word or two about the Five Sisters--" began +Adam Frost. + +"Ay! ay!" said Josey; "That ye may do and no 'arm come of it; I +knows 'em well! Five of the finest beech-trees in all England! Ay! +ay! th' owld Squire was main proud of 'em---" + +"They be comin' down," said Buggins; "Oliver Leach's chalk mark's on +'em for Wednesday marnin'." + +"Comin' down!" echoed Josey--"Comin' down? Gar'n with ye all for a +parcel o' silly idgits wi' neither rhyme nor reason nor backbone! +Comin' down! Why ye might as well tell me the Manor House was bein' +turned into a cow-shed! Comin' down! Gar'n!" + +"It's true, Josey," said Adam Frost, beginning to make his way +towards the gate of the churchyard, for he had just spied one of his +numerous 'olive-branches,' frantically beckoning him home to dinner, +and he knew by stern experience what it meant if Mrs. Frost and the +family were kept waiting for the Sunday's meal. "It's true, and +you'll find it so. And whether it'll be any good speakin' to the new +lady who's comin' home on Tuesday, or whether the Five Sisters won't +be all corpses afore she comes, there's no knowin'. The Lord He gave +the trees, but whether the Lord He gave Oliver Leach to take 'em +away again after a matter of three or four hundred year is mighty +doubtful!" + +Old Josey looked stupefied. + +"The Five Sisters comin' down!" he repeated dully; "May you never +live to do my buryin', Adam Frost, if it's true!--and that's the +worst wish I can give ye!" + +But Adam Frost here obeyed the call of his domestic belongings, and +hurried away without response. + +Josey leaned on his stick thoughtfully for a minute, and then +resumed his slow shuffling way. Any one of the men or women near him +would have willingly given him a hand to assist his steps, but they +all knew that he would be highly incensed if they dared to show that +they considered him in any way feeble or in need of support. So they +contented themselves with accompanying him at his own snail's pace, +and at such a distance as to be within hearing of any remarks he +might let fall, without intruding too closely on the special area in +which he chose to stump along homewards. + +"The Five Sisters comin' down, and the old Squire's daughter comin' +'ome!" he muttered; "They two things is like ile and water,--nothin' +'ull make 'em mix. The Squire's daughter--ay--ay! It seems but only +yeste'day the Squire died! And she was a fine mare that threw him, +too,--Firefly was her name. Ay--ay! It seems but yeste'day--but +yeste'day!" + +"D'ye mind the Squire's daughter, Josey?" asked one of the village +women sauntering a little nearer to him. + +"Mind her?" And Josey Letherbarrow halted abruptly. "Do I mind my +own childer? It seems but yeste'day, I tell ye, that the Squire +died, but mebbe it's a matter of six-an'-twenty 'ear agone since 'e +came to me where I was a-workin' in 'is fields, and he pinted out to +me the nurse wot was walkin' up and down near the edge of the +pasture carryin' his baby all in long clothes. 'See that, Josey!' he +sez, an' 'is eyes were all wild-like an' 'is lips was a' tremblin'; +'That little white thing is all I've got left of the wife I was +bringin' 'ome to be the sunshine of the old Manor. I felt like +killin' that child, Josey, when it was born, because its comin' into +this wurrld killed its mother. That was an unnat'ral thing, Josey,' +sez he--'There was no God in it, only a devil!' and 'is lips +trembled more'n ever--'no woman ought to die in givin' birth to a +child--it's jes' wicked an' cruel! I would say that to God Himself, +if I knew Him!' An' he clenched 'is fist 'ard, an' then 'e went on-- +'But though I wanted to kill the little creature, I couldn't do it, +Josey, I couldn't! It's eyes were like those of my Dearest. So I let +it live; an' I'll do my best by it, Josey,'--yes, them's the words +'e said--'I'll do my best by it!'" + +Here Josey broke off in his narrative, and resumed his crawling +pace. + +"You ain't finished, 'ave ye, Josey?" said Roger Buggins +propitiatingly, drawing closer to the old man. "It's powerful +interestin', all this 'ere!" + +Josey halted again. + +"Powerful interestin'? O' course it is! There ain't nobody's story +wot ain't interestin', if ye onny knows it. An' it's all six-an'- +twenty year agone now; but I can see th' owld Squire still, an' the +nurse walkin' slow up an' down by the border of the field, hushin' +the baby to sleep. And 'twas a good sound baby, too, an' thrived +fine; an' 'fore we knew where we was, instid of a baby there was a +little gel runnin' wild all over the place, climbin' trees, swannin' +up hay-stacks an' up to all sorts of mischief--Lord, Lord!" And +Josey began to chuckle with a kind of inward merriment; "I'll never +forget the day that child sat down on a wopses' nest an' got all 'er +little legs stung;--she was about five 'ear old then, an' she never +cried--not she!--the little proud spitfire that she was, she jes' +stamped 'er mite of a foot an' she sez, sez she: 'Did God make the +wopses?' An' 'er nurse sez to 'er: 'Yes, o' course, lovey, God made +'em.' 'Then I don't think much of Him!' sez she. Lord, Lord! We +larfed nigh to split ourselves that arternoon;--we was all makin' +'ay an' th' owld Squire was workin' wi' us for fun-like. 'I don't +think much o' God, father!'--sez Miss Maryllia, runnin' up to 'im, +an' liftin' up all 'er petticuts an' shewin' the purtiest little +legs ye ever seed; 'Nurse sez He made the wopses!' He-ee-ee-hor-hor- +hor!" + +A slow smile was reflected on the faces of the persons who heard +this story,--a smile that implied lurking doubt as to whether it was +quite the correct or respectful thing to find entertainment in an +anecdote which included a description of 'the purtiest little legs' +of the lady of the Manor whose return to her native home was so soon +expected,--but Josey Letherbarrow was a privileged personage, and he +might say what others dared not. As philosopher, general moralist +and purveyor of copy-book maxims, he was looked upon in the village +as the Nestor of the community, and in all discussions or +disputations was referred to as final arbitrator and judge. Born in +St. Rest, he had never been out of it, except on an occasional jaunt +to Riversford in the carrier's cart. He had married a lass of the +village, who had been his playmate in childhood, and who, after +giving him four children, had died when she was forty,--the four +children had grown up and in their turn had married and died; but +he, like a hardy old tree, had still lived on, with firm roots well +fixed in the soil that had bred him. Life had now become a series of +dream pictures with him, representing every episode of his +experience. His mind was clear, and his perception keen; he seldom +failed to recollect every detail of a circumstance when once the +clue was given, and the right little cell in his brain was stirred. +To these qualities he added a stock of good sound common sense, with +a great equableness of temperament, though he could be cynical, and +even severe, when occasion demanded. Just now, however, his +venerable countenance was radiant,--his few remaining tufts of white +hair glistened in the sun like spun silver,--his figure in its +homely smock, leaning on the rough ash stick, expressed in its very +attitude benevolence and good-humour, and 'the purtiest little legs' +had evidently conjured up a vision of childish grace and innocence +before his eyes, which he was loth to let go. + +"She was took away arter the old Squire was killed, worn't she?" +asked Bainton, who was drinking in all the information he could, in +order to have something to talk about to his master, when the +opportunity offered itself. + +"Ay! ay! She was took away," replied Josey, his smile darkening into +a shadow of weariness; "The Squire's neck was broke with Firefly-- +every man, woman and child knows that about here--an' then 'is +brother came along, 'im wot 'ad married a 'Merican wife wi' +millions, an' 'adn't got no children of their own. An' they took the +gel away with 'em--a purty little slip of about fifteen then, with +great big eyes and a lot of bright 'air;--don't none of ye remember +'er?" + +Mr. Buggins shook his head. + +"'Twas afore my time," he said. "I ain't had the 'Mother Huff' +more'n eight years." + +"I seed 'er once," said Bainton--"but onny once--that was when I was +workin' for the Squire as extra 'and. But I disremember 'er face.'' + +"Then ye never looked at it," said Josey, with a chuckle; "or bein' +made man ye wouldn't 'ave forgot it. Howsomever, it's 'ears ago an' +she's a woman growed--she ain't been near the place all this time, +which shows as 'ow she don't care about it, bein' took up with 'er +'Merican aunt and the millions. An' she'd got a nice little penny of +'er own, too, for the old Squire left 'er all he 'ad, an' she was to +come into it all when she was of age. An' now she's past bein' of +age, a woman of six-an'-twenty,--an' 'er rich uncle's dead, they +say, so I suppose she an' the 'Merican aunt can't work it out +together. Eh, dear! Well, well! Changes there must be, and changes +there will be, and if the Five Sisters is a-comin' down, then +there's ill-luck brewin' for the village, an' for every man, woman +and child in it! Mark my wurrd!" + +And he resumed his hobbling trudge, shaking his head dolefully. + +"Don't say that, Josey!" murmured one of the women with a little +shudder; "You didn't ought to talk about ill-luck. Don't ye know +it's onlucky to talk about ill-luck?" + +"No, I don't know nothin' o' the sort," replied Josey, "Luck there +is, and ill-luck,--an' ye can talk as ye like about one or t'other, +it don't make no difference. An' there's some things as comes +straight from the Lord, and there's others what comes straight from +the devil, an' ye've got to take them as they comes. 'Tain't no use +floppin' on yer knees an' cryin' on either the Lord or the devil,-- +they's outside of ye an' jest amusin' theirselves as they likes. +Mussy on me! D'ye think I don't know when the Lord 'ides 'is face +behind the clouds playin' peep-bo for a bit, and lets the devil 'ave +it all 'is own way? An' don't I know 'ow, when old Nick is jes' in +the thick o' the fun 'avin' a fine time with the poor silly souls o' +men, the Lord suddenly comes out o' the cloud and sez, sez He: 'Now +'nuff o' this 'ere; get thee behind me!' An' then--an' then--," here +Josey paused and struck his staff violently into the earth,--"an' +then there's a noise as of a mighty wind rushin', an' the angels all +falls to trumpetin' an' cries; 'Alleluia! Lift up your 'eads ye +everlasting gates that the King of Glory may come in'!" + +The various village loafers sauntering beside their venerable +prophet, listened to this outburst with respectful awe. + +"He's meanderin'," said Bainton in a low tone to the portly +proprietor of the 'Mother Huff'; "It's wonderful wot poltry there is +in 'im, when 'e gives way to it!" + +'Poltry' was the general term among the frequenters of the 'Mother +Huff' for 'poetry.' + +"Ay, ay!" replied Buggins, somewhat condescendingly, as one who bore +in mind that he was addressing a creditor; "I don't understan' +poltry myself, but Josey speaks fine when he has a mind to--there's +no doubt of that. Look 'ee 'ere, now; there's Ipsie Frost runnin' to +'im!" + +And they all turned their eyes on a flying bundle of curls, rosy +cheeks, fat legs and clean pinafore, that came speeding towards old +Josey, with another young feminine creature scampering after it +crying: + +"Ipsie! Hip-po-ly-ta! Baby! Come back to your dinner!" + +But Hippolyta was a person evidently accustomed to have her own way, +and she ran straight up to Josey Letherbarrow as though he were the +one choice hero picked out of a world. + +"Zozey!" she screamed, stretching out a pair of short, mottled arms; +"My own bootiful Zozey-posey! Tum and pick fowers!" + +With an ecstatic shriek at nothing in particular, she caught the +edge of the old man's smock. + +"My Zozey," she said purringly, "'Oo vezy old, but I loves 'oo!" + +A smile and then a laugh went the round of the group. They were all +accustomed to Ipsie's enthusiasms. Josey Letherbarrow paused a +minute to allow his small admirer to take firm hold of his garments, +and patted her little head with his brown wrinkled hand. + +"We'se goin' sweetheartin', ain't we, Ipsie," he said gently, the +beautiful smile that made his venerable face so fine and lovable, +again lighting up his sunken eyes. "Come along, little lass! Come +along!" + +"She ain't finished her dinner!" breathlessly proclaimed a long- +legged girl of about ten, who had run after the child, being one of +her numerous sisters; "Mother said she was to come back straight." + +"I s'ant go back!" declared Ipsie defiantly; "Zozey and me's +sweetheartin'!" + +Old Josey chuckled. + +"That's so! So we be!" he said tranquilly; "Come along little lass! +Come along!" And to the panting sister of the tiny autocrat, he +said: "You go on, my gel! I'll bring the baby, 'oldin' on jest as +she is now to my smock. She won't stir more'n a fond bird wot's +stickin' its little claws into ye for shelter. I'll bring 'er along +'ome, an' she'll finish 'er dinner fine, like a real good baby! Come +along, little lass! Come along!" + +So murmuring, the old man and young child went on together, and the +group of villagers dispersed. Roger Buggins, however, paused a +moment before turning up the lane which led to the 'Mother Huff.' + +"You tell Passon," he said addressing Bainton, "You tell him as 'ow +the Five Sisters be chalked for layin' low on Wednesday marnin'!" + +"Never fear!" responded Bainton; "I'll tell 'im. If 'tworn't Sunday, +I'd tell 'im now, but it's onny fair he should 'ave a bit o' peace +on the seventh day like the rest of us. He'll be fair mazed like +when he knows it,--ay! and I shouldn't wonder if he gave Oliver +Leach a bit of 'is mind. For all that he's so quiet, there's a real +devil in 'im wot the sperrit o' God keeps down,--but it's there, +lurkin' low in 'is mind, an' when 'is eyes flashes blue like +lightnin' afore a storm, the devil looks straight out of 'im, it do +reely now!" + +"Well, well!" said Buggins, tolerantly, with the dignified air of +one closing the discussion; "Devil or no devil, you tell 'im as 'ow +the Five Sisters be chalked for layin' low on Wednesday marnin'. +Good day t'ye!" + +"Good day!" responded Bainton, and the two worthies panted, each to +go on their several ways, Buggins to the 'Mother Huff' from whose +opened latticed windows the smell of roast beef and onions, which +generally composed the Buggins' Sunday meal, came in odorous whiffs +down the little lane, almost smothering the delicate perfume of the +sprouting sweet-briar hedges on either side, and the nodding +cowslips in the grass below; Bainton to his own cottage on the +border of his master's grounds, a pretty little dwelling with a +thatched roof almost overgrown with wistaria just breaking into +flower. + +Far away from St. Rest, the greater world swung on its way; the +whirl of society, politics, fashion and frivolity revolved like the +wheel in a squirrel's cage, round which the poor little imprisoned +animal leaps and turns incessantly in a miserable make-believe of +forest freedom,--but to the old gardener who lifted the latch of his +gate and went in to the Sunday dinner prepared for him by his stout +and energetic helpmate, who was one of the best dairy-women in the +whole countryside, there was only one grave piece of news in the +universe worth considering or discussing, and that was the 'layin' +low of the Five Sisters.' + +"Never!" said Mrs. Bainton, as she set a steaming beef-steak pudding +in its basin on the table and briskly untied the ends of the cloth +in which it had been boiling. "Never, Tom! You don't tell me! The +Five Sisters comin' down! Why, what is Oliver Leach thinking about?" + +"Himself, I reckon!" responded her husband, "and his own partikler +an' malicious art o' forestry. Which consists in barin' the land as +if it was a judge's chin, to be clean-shaved every marnin'. My +wurrd! Won't Passon Walden be just wild! M'appen he's heard of it +already, for he seems main worrited about somethin' or other. I've +allus thought 'im wise-like an' sensible for a man in the Church wot +ain't got much chance of knowin' the wurrld, but he was jes' +meanderin' along to-day--meanderin' an' jabberin' about a meek an' +quiet sperrit, as if any of us wanted that kind o' thing 'ere! Why +it's fightin' all the time! If 'tain't Sir Morton Pippitt, it's +Leach, an' if 'tain't Leach it's Putty Leveson--an' if 'tain't +Leveson, why it's Adam Frost an' his wife, an' if 'tain't Frost an' +his wife, why it's you an' me, old gel! We can get up a breeze as +well as any couple wot was ever jined in the bonds of 'oly +matterimony! Hor-hor-hor! 'Meek an' quiet sperrit,' sez he--'have +all of ye meek an' quiet sperrits'! Why he ain't got one of 'is own! +Wait till he 'ears of the Five Sisters comin' down! See 'im then! Or +wait till Miss Vancourt arrives an' begins to muddle round with the +church!" + +"Nonsense! She won't muddle round with the church," said Mrs. +Bainton cheerfully, sitting down to dinner opposite her husband, +'What nesh fools men are, to be sure! Every-one says she's a fine +lady 'customed to all sorts of show and gaiety and the like--what +will she want to do with the church? Ten to one she never goes +inside it!" + +"You shouldn't bet, old woman, 'tain't moral," said Bainton, with a +chuckle; "You ain't got ten to bet agin one--we couldn't spare so +much. If she doos nothing else, she'll dekrate the church at 'Arvest +'Ome an' Christmas--that's wot leddies allus fusses about-- +dekratin'. Lord, Lord! The mess they makes when they starts on it, +an' the mischief they works! Tearin' down the ivy, scrattin' up the +moss, pullin' an' grabbin' at the flowers wot's taken months to +grow,--for all the wurrld as if they was cats out for a 'oliday. I +tell ye it's been a speshel providence for us 'ere, that Passon +Walden ain't got no wife,--if he 'ad, she'd a been at the dekratin' +game long afore now. Our church would be jes' spoilt with a lot o' +trails o' weed round it--but you mark my wurrd!--Miss Vancourt will +be dekratin' the Saint in the coffin at 'Arvest 'Ome wi' corn and +pertaters an' vegetable marrers, all a-growin' and a-blowin' afore +we knows it. There ain't no sense o' fitness in the feminine natur!" + +Mrs. Bainton laughed good-naturedly. + +"That's quite true!" she agreed; "If there were, I shouldn't have +made Sunday pudding for a man who talks too much to eat it while +it's hot. Keep your tongue in your mouth, Tom!--use it for tastin' +jes' now an' agin!" + +Bainton took the hint and subsided into silent enjoyment of his +food. Only once again he spoke in the course of the meal, and that +was during the impressive pause between pudding and cheese. + +"When he knows as 'ow the Five Sisters be chalked, Passon Walden's +sure to do somethin'," he said. + +"Ay!" responded his wife thoughtfully; "he's sure to do something." + +"What d'ye think he'll do?" queried Bainton, somewhat anxiously. + +"Oh, you know best, Tom," replied his buxom partner, setting a +flat Dutch cheese before him and a jug of foaming beer; "There ain't +no sense o' fitness in ME, bein' a woman! You know best!" + +Bainton lowered his eyes sheepishly. As usual his better half had +closed the argument unanswerably. + + + + +VII + + +Seldom in the placid course of years had St. Rest ever belied its +name, or permitted itself to suffer loss of dignity by any undue +display of excitement. The arrival of John Walden as minister of the +parish,--the re-building of the church, and the discovery of the +medieval sarcophagus, which old Josey Letherbarrow always called the +Sarky Fagus, together with the consecration ceremony by Bishop +Brent,--were the only episodes in ten years that had moved it +slightly from its normal calm. For though rumours of wars and +various other mishaps and tribulations, reached it through the +medium of the newspapers in the ordinary course, it concerned itself +not at all with these, such matters being removed and apart from its +own way of life and conduct. It was a little world in itself, and +had only the vaguest interest in any other world, save perhaps the +world to come, which was indeed a very real prospect to most of the +villagers, their inherited tendency being towards a quaint and +simple piety that was as childlike as it was sincere. The small +congregation to which John Walden preached twice every Sunday was +composed of as honest men and clean-minded women as could be found +in all England,--men and women with straight notions of honour and +duty, and warm, if plain, conceptions of love, truth and family +tenderness. They had their little human failings and weaknesses, +thanks to Mother Nature, whose children we all are, and who sets her +various limitations for the best of us,--but, taken on the whole, +they were peculiarly unspoilt by the iconoclastic march of progress; +and 'advanced' notions of doubt as to a God, and scepticism as to a +future state, had never clouded their quiet minds. Walden had taken +them well in hand from the beginning of his ministry,--and being +much of a poet and dreamer at heart, he had fostered noble ideals +among them, which he taught in simple yet attractive language, with +the happiest results. The moral and mental attitude of the villagers +generally was a philosophic cheerfulness and obedience to the will +of God,--but this did not include a tame submission to tyranny, or a +passive acceptance of injury inflicted upon them by merely human +oppressors. + +Hence,--though any disturbance of the daily equanimity of their +agricultural life and pursuits was quite an exceptional +circumstance, the news of the 'layin' low of the Five Sisters' was +sufficient cause, when once it became generally known, for visible +signs of trouble. In its gravity and importance it almost overtopped +the advent of the new mistress of the Manor; and when on Tuesday it +was whispered that 'Passon Walden' had himself been to expostulate +with Oliver Leach concerning the meditated murder of the famous +trees, and that his expostulations had been all in vain, clouded +brows and ominous looks were to be seen at every corner where the +men halted on their way to the fields, or where the women gathered +to gossip in the pauses of their domestic labour. Walden himself, +pacing impatiently to and fro in his garden, was for once more +disturbed in his mind than he cared to admit. When he had been told +early on Monday morning of the imminent destruction awaiting the +five noble beeches which, in their venerable and broadly-branching +beauty, were one of the many glories of the woods surrounding +Abbot's Manor, he was inclined to set it down to some capricious +command issued by the home-coming mistress of the estate; and, in +order to satisfy himself whether this was, or was not the case, he +had done what was sorely against his own sense of dignity to do,--he +had gone at once to interview Oliver Leach personally on the +subject. But he had found that individual in the worst of all +possible moods for argument, having been, as he stated, passed over' +by Miss Vancourt. That lady had not, he said, written to inform him +of her intended return, therefore,--so he argued,--it was not his +business to be aware of it. + +"Miss Vancourt hasn't told me anything, and of course I don't know +anything," he said carelessly, standing in his doorway and keeping +his hat on in the minister's presence; "My work is on the land, and +when timber has to be felled it's my affair and nobody else's. I've +been agent on these estates since the Squire's death, and I don't +want to be taught my duty by any man." + +"But surely your duty does not compel you to cut down five of the +finest old trees in England," said Walden, hotly,--"They have been +famous for centuries in this neighbourhood. Have you any right to +fell them without special orders?" + +"Special orders?" echoed Leach with a sneer; "I've had no 'special +order' for ten years at least! My employers trust me to do what I +think best, and I've every right to act accordingly. The trees will +begin to rot in another eighteen months or so,--just now they're in +good condition and will fetch a fair price. You stick to your +church, Parson Walden,--you know all about that, no doubt!--but +don't come preaching to me about the felling of timber. That's my +business,--not yours!" + +Walden flushed, and bit his lip. His blood grew warm with +indignation, and he involuntarily clenched his fist. But he +suppressed his rising wrath with an effort. + +"You may as well keep a civil tongue in your head, Mr. Leach--it +will do you no harm!" he said quietly; "I have no wish to interfere +with what you conceive to be your particular mode of duty, but I +think that before you destroy what can never be replaced, you should +consult the owner of the trees, Miss Vancourt, especially as her +return is fixed for to-morrow." + +"As I told you before, I know nothing about her return," replied +Leach, obstinately; "I am not supposed to know. And whether she's +here or away, makes no difference to me. I know what's to be done, +and I shall do it." + +Walden's eyes flashed. Strive as he would, he could not disguise his +inward contempt for this petty jack-in-office,--and his keen glance +was, to the perverse nature of the ill-conditioned boor he +addressed, like the lash of a whip on the back of a snarling cur. + +"I know what's to be done, and I shall do it," Leach repeated in a +louder tone; "And all the sentimental rot ever talked in the village +about the Five Sisters won't make me change my mind,--no, nor all +the sermons on meek and quiet spirits neither! That's my last word, +Mr. Walden, and you may take it for what it is worth!" + +Walden swung round on his heel and went his way without replying. +Outwardly, he was calm enough, but inwardly he was in a white heat +of anger. His thoughts dwelt with a passionate insistence on the +grand old trees with their great canopies of foliage, where hundreds +of happy birds annually made their homes,--where, with every +recurring Spring, the tender young leaves sprouted forth from the +aged gnarled boughs, expressing the joy of a life that had outlived +whole generations of men--where, in the long heats of summer broad +stretches of shade lay dense on the soft grass, offering grateful +shelter from the noon-day sun to the browsing cattle,--and where +with the autumn's breath, the slow and glorious transformation of +green leaves to gold, with flecks of scarlet between, made a +splendour of colour against the pale grey-blue sky, such as artists +dream of and with difficulty realise. All this wealth of God-granted +natural beauty,--the growth of centuries,--was to perish in a single +morning! Surely it was a crime!--surely it was a wicked and wanton +deed, for which, there could be no sane excuse offered! Sorrowfully, +and with bitterness, did Walden relate to his gardener, Bainton, the +failure of his attempt to bring Oliver Leach to reason,--solemnly, +and in subdued silence did Bainton hear the tale. + +"Well, well, Passon," he said, when his master had finished; "You +doos your best for us, and no man can't say but what you've done it +true ever since you took up with this 'ere village,--and you've +tried to save the Five Sisters, and if 'tain't no use, why there's +no more to be said. Josey Letherbarrow was for walkin' up to the +Manor an' seein' Miss Vancourt herself, as soon as iver she gets +within her own door,--but Lord love ye, he'd take 'arf a day to jog +up there on such feet as he's got left after long wear and tear, an' +there ain't no liftin' 'im into a cart nohow. Sez he to me: 'I'll +see the little gel wot I used to know, and I'll tell 'er as 'ow the +Five Sisters be chalked, an' she'll listen to me--you see if she +don't!' I was rather took with the idee myself, but I sez, sez I: 'Let +alone, Josey,--you be old as Methusaleh, and you can't get up to +the Manor nohow; let Passon try what he can do wi' Leach,'--and now +you've been and done your best, and can't do nothin', why we must +give it up altogether." + +Walden walked up and down, Ms hands loosely clasped behind his back, +lost in thought. + +"We won't give it up altogether, Bainton," he said; "We'll try and +find some other way--" + +"There's goin' to be another way," declared Bainton, significantly; +"There's trouble brewin' in the village, an' m'appen when Oliver +Leach gets up to the woods to-morrow mornin' he'll find a few ready +to meet 'im!" + +Walden stopped abruptly. + +"What do you mean?" + +"'Tain't for me to say;" and Bainton pretended to be very busy in +pulling up one or two plantains from the lawn; "But I tells ye true, +Passon, the Five Sisters ain't goin' to be laid low without a +shindy!" + +John's eyes sparkled. He scented battle, and was not by any means +displeased. + +"This is Tuesday, isn't it?" he asked abruptly; "This is the day +Miss Vancourt has arranged to return?" + +"It is so, sir," replied Bainton; "and it's believed the +arrangements 'olds good--for change'er mind as a woman will, 'er +'osses an' groom's arrived--and a dog as large as they make 'em, +which 'is name is Plato." + +Walden gave a slight gesture of annoyance. Here was a fresh cause of +antipathy to the approaching Miss Vancourt. No one but a careless +woman, devoid of all taste and good feeling, would name a dog after +the greatest of Greek philosophers! + +"Plato's a good name," went on Bainton meditatively, unconscious of +the view his master was taking of that name in his own mind; "I've +'eard it somewheres before, though I couldn't tell just where. And +it's a fine dog. I was up at the Manor this mornin' lookin' round +the grounds, just to see 'ow they'd been a-gettin' on--and really it +isn't so bad considerin', and I was askin' a question or two of +Spruce, and he showed me the dog lyin' on the steps of the Manor, +lookin' like a lion's baby snoozin' in the sun, and waitin' as wise +as ye like for his mistress. He don't appear at all put out by new +faces or new grounds--he's took to the place quite nat'ral." + +"You saw Spruce early, then?" + +"Yes, sir, I see Spruce, and arter 'ollerin' 'ard at 'im for 'bout +ten minutes, he sez, sez he, as gentle as a child sez he: 'Yes, the +Five Sisters is a-comin' down to-morrow mornin', and we's all to be +there a quarter afore six with ropes and axes.'" + +John started walking up and down again. + +"When is Miss Vancourt expected?" he enquired. + +"At tea-time this arternoon," replied Bainton. "The train arrives at +Riversford at three o'clock, if so be it isn't behind its time,--and +if the lady gets a fly from the station, which if she ain't ordered +it afore, m'appen she won't get it, she'll be 'ere 'bout four." + +Instinctively Walden glanced at his watch. It was just two o'clock. +Another hour and the antipathetic 'Squire-ess' would be actually on +her way to the village! He heaved a short sigh. Forebodings of evil +infected the air,--impending change, disturbing and even disastrous +to St. Rest suggested itself troublously to his mind. Arguing +inwardly with himself, he presently began to think that +notwithstanding all his attempts to live a Christian life, after the +manner Christianly, he was surely becoming a very selfish and +extremely narrow-minded man! He was unreasonably, illogically vexed +at the return of the heiress of Abbot's Manor; and why? Why, chiefly +because he would no longer be able to walk at liberty in Abbot's +Manor gardens and woods,--because there would be another personality +perhaps more dominant than his own in the little village, and +because--yes!--because he had a particular aversion to women of +fashion, such as Miss Vancourt undoubtedly must be, to judge from +the brief exhibition of her wardrobe which, through the +guilelessness of Mrs. Spruce, had been displayed before his +reluctant eyes. + +These objections were after all, so he told himself, really rooted +in masculine selfishness,--the absorbing selfishness of old +bachelorhood, which had grown round him like a shell, shutting him +out altogether from the soft influences of feminine attraction,--so +much so indeed that he had even come to look upon his domestic +indoor servants as obliging machines rather than women,--machines +which it was necessary to keep well oiled with food and wages, but +which could scarcely be considered as entering into his actual life +more than the lawn-mower or the roasting-jack. Yet he was invariably +kind to all his dependants,--invariably thoughtful of all their +needs,--nevertheless he maintained a certain aloofness from them, +not only because he was by nature reserved, but because he judged +reserve necessary in order to uphold respect. In sickness or +trouble, no one could be more quietly helpful or consolatory than +he; and in the company of children he threw off all restraint and +was as a child himself in the heartiness and spontaneity of his +mirth and good humour,--but with all women, save the very aged and +matronly, he generally found himself at a loss, uncertain what to +say to them, and equally uncertain as to how far he might accept or +believe what they said to him. The dark eyes of a sparkling brunette +embarrassed him as much as the dreamy blue orbs of a lily-like +blonde,--they were curious dazzlements that got into his way at +times, and made him doubtful as to whether any positive sincerity +ever could or ever would lurk behind such bewildering brief flashes +of light which appeared to shine forth without meaning, and vanish +again without result. And in various ways,--he now began to think,-- +he must certainly have grown inordinately, outrageously selfish!-- +his irritation at the prospective return of Miss Vancourt proved it. +He determined to brace himself together and put the lurking devil of +egotism down. + +"Put it down!" he said inwardly and with sternness,--"put it down-- +trample it under foot, John, my boy! The lady of the Manor is +perhaps sent here to try your patience and prove the stuff that is +in you! She is no child,--she is twenty-seven years of age--a full +grown woman,--she will have her ways, just as you have yours,--she +will probably rub every mental and moral hair on the skin of your +soul awry,--but that is really just what you want, John,--you do +indeed! You want something more irritating than Sir Morton Pippitt's +senile snobberies to keep you clean of an overgrowth or an +undergrowth of fads! Your powers of endurance are about to be put to +the test, and you must come out strong, John! You must not allow +yourself to become a querulous old fellow because you cannot always +do exactly as you like!" + +He smiled genially at his own mental scolding of himself, and +addressing Bainton once more, said: + +"I shall probably write a note to Miss Vancourt this afternoon, and +send you up with it. I shall tell her all about the Five Sisters, +and ask her to give orders that the cutting down of the trees may be +delayed till she has seen them for herself. But don't say anything +about this in the village," here he paused a moment, and then spoke +with greater emphasis--"I don't want to interfere with anything +anybody else may have on hand. Do you understand? We must save the +old beeches somehow. I will do my best, but I may fail; Miss +Vancourt may not read my letter, or if she does, she may not be +disposed to attend to it; it is best that all ways and means should +be, tried,--" + +He broke off,--but his eyes met Bainton's in a mutual flash of +understanding. + +"You're a straight man, Passon, and no mistake," observed Bainton +with a slow smile; "No beatin' about the bush in the likes o' you! +Lord, Lord! What a mussy we ain't saddled with a poor snuffling, +addle-pated, whimperin' man o' God like we 'ad afore you come 'ere-- +what found all 'is dooty an' pleasure in dinin' with Sir Morton +Pippitt up at the 'All! And when there was a man died, or a baby +born, or some other sich like calamity in the village, he worn't +never to 'and to 'elp,-but he would give a look in when it was all +over, and then he sez, sez he: 'I'm sorry, my man, I wasn't 'ere to +comfort ye, but I was up at the 'All.' And he did roll it round and +round in his mouth like as 'twas a lump o' butter and 'oney--'up at +the 'All'! Hor-hor-hor! It must a' tasted sweet to 'im as we used to +say,--and takin' into consideration that Sir Morton was a bone- +melter by profession, we used to throw up the proverb 'the nearer +the bone, the sweeter the meat'--not that it had any bearin' on the +matter, but a good sayin's a good thing, and a proverb fits into a +fancy sometimes better'n a foot into a shoe. But you ain't a +snuffler, Passon!--and you ain't never been up at the 'All, nor +wouldn't go if you was axed to, and that's one of the many things +what makes you a gineral favourite,--it do reely now!" + +Walden smiled, but forbore to continue conversation on this somewhat +personal theme. He retired into his own study, there to concoct the +stiffest, most clerical, and most formal note to Miss Vancourt that +he could possibly devise. He had the very greatest reluctance to +attempt such a task, and sat with a sheet of notepaper before him +for some time, staring at it without formulating any commencement. +Then he began: "The Rev. John Walden presents his compliments to +Miss Vancourt, and begs to inform her--" + +No, that would never do! 'Begs to inform her' sounded almost +threatening. The Rev. John Walden might 'beg to inform her' that she +had no business to wear pink shoes with high heels, for example. He +destroyed one half sheet of paper, put the other half economically +aside to serve as a stray leaflet for 'church memoranda,' and +commenced in a different strain. + +"Dear Madam," + +"Dear Madam!" He looked at the two words in some annoyance. They +were very ugly. Addressed to a person who wore pink shoes, they +seemed singularly abrupt. And if Miss Vancourt should chance to +resemble in the least her ancestress, Mary Elia Adelgisa de +Vaignecourt, they were wholly unsuitable. A creditor might write +'Dear Madam' to a customer in application for an outstanding bill,-- +but to Mary Elia Adelgisa one would surely begin,--Ah!--now how +would one begin? He paused, biting the end of his penholder. Another +half sheet of notepaper was wasted, and equally another half sheet +devoted to 'church memoranda.' Then he began: + +"Dear Miss Vancourt," + +At this, he threw down his pen altogether. Too familiar! By all the +gods of Greece, whom he had almost believed in even while studying +Divinity at Oxford, a great deal too familiar! + +"It is just as if I knew her!" he said to himself in vexation. "And +I don't know her! And what's more, I don't want to know her! If it +were not for this business of the Five Sisters, I wouldn't go near +her. Positively I wouldn't!" + +A mellow chime from the old eight-day clock in the outer hall struck +on the silence. Three o'clock! The train by which Miss Vancourt +would arrive, was timed to reach Riversford station at three,--if it +was not late, which it generally was. Nebbie, who had been snoozing +peacefully near the study window in a patch of sunlight, suddenly +rose, shook himself, and trotted out on to the lawn, sniffing the +air with ears and tail erect. Walden watched him abstractedly. + +"Perhaps he scents a future enemy in Miss Vancourt's dog, Plato!" +And this whimsical idea made him smile. "He is quite intelligent +enough. He is certainly more intelligent than I am this afternoon, +for I cannot write even a commonplace ordinary note to a commonplace +ordinary woman!" Here a sly brain-devil whispered that Miss Vancourt +might possibly be neither commonplace nor ordinary,--but he put the +suggestion aside with a 'Get thee behind me, Satan' inflexibility. +"The fact is, I had better not write to her at all. I'll send +Bainton with a verbal message; he is sure to give a quaint and +pleasant turn to it,--he knew her father, and I didn't;--it will be +much better to send Bainton." + +Having made this resolve, his brow cleared, and he was more +satisfied. Tearing up the last half sheet of wasted note-paper he +had spoilt in futile attempts to address the lady of the Manor, he +laughed at his failures. + +"Even if it were etiquette to use the old Roman form of +correspondence, which some people think ought to be revived, it +wouldn't do in this case," he said. "Imagine it! 'John Walden to +Maryllia Vancourt,--Greeting!' How unutterably, how stupendously +ridiculous it would look!" + +He shut all his writing materials in his desk, and following Nebbie +out to the lawn, seated himself with a volume of Owen Meredith in +his hand. He was soon absorbed. Yet every now and again his thoughts +strayed to the Five Sisters, and with persistent fidelity of detail +his mind's eye showed him the grassy knoll so soft to the tread, +where the doomed trees stood proudly and gracefully, clad just at +this season all in a glorious panoply of young green,--where, as the +poet whose tender word melodies he was reading might have said of +the surroundings: + +"For moisture of sweet showers, All the grass is thick with +flowers." + +"Yes, I shall send Bainton up to the Manor with a civil message," he +mused--"and he can--and certainly will--add anything else to it he +likes. Of course the lady may be offended,--some women take offence +at anything--but I don't much care if she is. My conscience will not +reproach me for having warned her of the impending destruction of +one of the most picturesque portions of her property. But +personally, I shall not write to her, nor will I go to see her. I +shall have to pay a formal call, of course, in a week or two,--but I +need not go inside the Manor for that. To leave my card, as minister +of the parish, will be quite sufficient." + +He turned again to the volume in his hand. His eyes fell casually on +a verse in the poem of 'Resurrection': + +"The world is filled with folly and sin; And Love must cling where +it can, I say,--For Beauty is easy enough to win, But one isn't +loved every day." + +He sighed involuntarily. Then to banish an unacknowledged regret, he +began to criticise his author. + +"If the world and the ambitions of diplomatic service had not +stepped in between Lord Lytton and his muse, he would have been a +fine poet," he said half aloud;--"A pity he was not born obscurely +and in poverty--he would have been wholly great, instead of as now, +merely greatly gifted. He missed his true vocation. So many of us do +likewise. I often wonder whether I have missed mine?" + +But this idea brooked no consideration. He knew he had not mistaken +his calling. He was the very man for it. Many of his 'cloth' might +have taken a lesson from him in the whole art of unselfish +ministration to the needs of others. But with all his high spiritual +aim, he was essentially human, and pleasantly conscious of his own +failings and obstinacies. He did not hold himself as above the +weaker brethren, but as one with them, and of them. And through the +steady maintenance of this mental attitude, he found himself able to +participate in ordinary emotions, ordinary interests and ordinary +lives with small and outlying parishes in the concerns of the people +committed to their charge. It is not too much to say that though he +was in himself distinctly reserved and apart from the average +majority of men, the quiet exercise of his influence over the +village of St. Rest had resulted in so attracting and fastening the +fibres of love and confidence in all the hearts about him to his +own, that anything of serious harm occurring to himself, would have +been considered in the light of real fatality and ruin to the whole +community. When a clergyman can succeed in establishing such +complete trust and sympathy between himself and his parishioners, +there can be no question of his fitness for the high vocation to +which he has been ordained. When, on the contrary, one finds a +village or town where the inhabitants are split up into small and +quarrelsome sects, and are more or less in a state of objective +ferment against the minister who should be their ruling head, the +blame is presumably more with the minister than with those who +dispute his teaching, inasmuch as he must have fallen far below the +expected standard in some way or other, to have thus incurred +general animosity. + +"If all fails," mused Walden presently, his thoughts again reverting +to the Five Sisters' question,--"If Bainton does his errand +awkwardly,--if the lady will not see him,--if any one of the +thousand things do happen that are quite likely to happen, and so +spoil all chance of interceding with Miss Vancourt to spare the +trees,--why then I will go myself to-morrow morning to the scene of +intended massacre before six o'clock. I will be there before an axe +is lifted! And if Bainton meant anything at all by his hint, others +will be there too! Yes!--I shall go,--in fact it will be my duty to +go in case of a row." + +A smile showed itself under his silver-brown moustache. The idea of +a row seemed not altogether unpleasant to him. He stooped and patted +his dog playfully. + +"Nebuchadnezzar!" he said, with mock solemnity; whereat Nebbie, +lying at his feet, opened one eye, blinked it lazily and wagged his +tail--"Nebuchadnezzar, I think our presence will be needed to-morrow +morning at an early hour, in attendance on the Five Sisters! Do you +hear me, Nebuchadnezzar?" Again Nebbie blinked. "Good! That wink +expresses understanding. We shall have to be there, in case of a +row." + +Nebbie yawned, stretched out his paws, and closed both eyes in +peaceful slumber. It was a beautiful afternoon;--'sufficient for the +day was the evil thereof' according to Nebbie. The Reverend John +turned over a few more pages of Owen Meredith, and presently came to +the conclusion that he would go punting. The decision was no sooner +arrived at than he prepared to carry it out. Nebbie awoke with a +start from his doze to see his master on the move, and quickly +trotted after him across the lawn to the river. Here, the sole +occupant of the shining stream was a maternal swan, white as a cloud +on the summit of Mont Blanc, floating in stately ease up and down +the water, carrying her young brood of cygnets on her back, under +the snowy curve of her arching wings. Walden unchained the punt and +sprang into it,--Nebbie dutifully following,--and then divested +himself of his coat. He was just about to take the punting pole in +hand, when Bainton's figure suddenly emerged from the shrubbery. + +"Off on the wild wave, Passon, are ye?" he observed,--"Well, it's a +fine day for it! M'appen you ain't seen the corpses of four rats +anywhere around? No? Then I 'spect their lovin' relations must ha' +been an' ate 'em up, which may be their pertikler way of doin' +funerals. I nabbed 'em all last night in the new traps of my own +invention. mebbe the lilies will be all the better for their loss. +I'll be catchin' some more this evenin'. Lord; Passon, if you was to +'old out offers of a shillin' a head, the rats 'ud be gone in no +time,--an' the lilies too!" + +Walden absorbed in getting his punt out, only smiled and nodded +acquiescingly. + +"The train must ha' been poonctual," went on Bainton, staring +stolidly at the shining water. "Amazin' poonctual for once in its +life. For a one 'oss fly, goin' at a one 'oss fly pace, 'as jes' +passed through the village, and is jiggitin' up to the Manor this +very minute. I s'pose Miss Vancourt's inside it." + +Walden paused,--punt-pole in hand. + +"Yes, I suppose she is," he rejoined. "Come to me at six o'clock, +Bainton. I shall want you." + +"Very good, sir!" + +The pole splashed in the water,--the punt shot out into the clear +stream,--Nebbie gave two short barks, as was his custom when he +found himself being helplessly borne away from dry land,--and in a +few seconds Walden had disappeared round one of the bends of the +river. Bainton stood ruminating for a minute. + +"Jest a one 'oss fly, goin' at a one 'oss fly pace!" he repeated, +slowly;--"It's a cheap way of comin' 'ome to one's father's 'Alls-- +jest in a one 'oss fly! She might ha' ordered a kerridge an' pair by +telegram, an' dashed it up in fine style, but a one 'oss fly! It do +take the edge off a 'ome-comin'!--it do reely now." + +And with a kind of short grunt at the vanity and disappointment of +human expectations, he went his way to the kitchen garden, there to +'chew the cud of sweet and bitter memory' over the asparagus beds, +which were in a highly promising condition. + + + + +VIII + + +The one-horse fly, going at a one-horse fly pace, had made its way +with comfortable jaunting slowness from Riversford to St. Rest, its +stout, heavy-faced driver being altogether unconscious that his fare +was no less a personage than Miss Vancourt, the lady of the Manor. +When a small, girlish person, clad in a plain, close-fitting garb of +navy-blue serge, and wearing a simple yet coquettish dark straw hat +to match, accosted him at the Riversford railway station with a +brief, 'Cab, please,' and sprang into his vehicle, he was a trifle +sulky at being engaged in such a haphazard fashion by an apparently +insignificant young female who had no luggage, not so much as a +handbag. + +"Wheer be you a-goin'?" he demanded, turning his bull neck slowly +round--"I baint pertikler for a far journey." + +"Aren't you?" and the young lady smiled. "You must drive me to St. +Rest,--Abbot's Manor, please!" + +The heavy-faced driver paused, considering. Should he perform the +journey, or should he not? Perhaps it would be wisest to undertake +the job,--there was the 'Mother Huff' at the end of the journey, and +Roger Buggins was a friend of his. Yes,--he would take the risk of +conveying the humbly-clad female up to the Manor; he had heard +rumours that the old place was once again to be inhabited, and that +the mistress of it was daily expected;--this person in the blue +serge was probably one of her messengers or retainers. + +"My fare's ten shillings," he observed, still peering round +distrustfully; "It's a good seven mile up hill and down dale." + +"All right!" responded the young woman, cheerfully; "You shall have +ten shillings. Only please begin to go, won't you?" + +This request was accompanied by an arch smile, and a flash of blue +eyes from under the dark straw hat brim. Whereat the cumbrous Jehu +was faintly moved to a responsive grin. + +"She ain't bad-looking, neither!" he muttered to himself,--and he +was in a somewhat better humour when at last he ondescended to +start. His vehicle was a closed one, and though be fully expected +his passenger would put her head out of the window, when the horse +was labouring up-hill, and entreat him to go faster,--which habit he +had found by experience was customary to woman in a one-horse fly,- +-nothing of the kind happened on this occasion. The person in the +blue serge was evidently both patient and undemonstrative. Whether +the horse crawled or slouched, or trotted,--whether the fly dragged, +or bumped, or jolted, she made no sign. When St. Rest was reached at +last, and the driver whipped his steed into a semblance of spirit, +and drove through the little village with a clatter, two or three +people came to the doors of their cottages and looked at the vehicle +scrutinisingly, wondering whether its occupant was, or was not Miss +Vancourt. But a meaning wink from the sage on the box intimated that +they need not trouble themselves,--the 'fare' was no one of the +least importance. + +Presently, the fine old armorial gates of the drive which led up to +Abbot's Manor were reached,--they were set wide open, this having +been done according to Mrs. Spruce's orders. A woman at the lodge +came hastily out, but the cab had passed her before she had time to +see who was in it. Up through the grand avenue of stately oaks and +broad-branching elms, whose boughs, rich with the budding green, +swayed in the light wind with a soft rustling sound as of sweeping +silks on velvet, the unostentatious vehicle jogged slowly,--it was a +steady ascent all the way, and the driver was duly considerate of +his animal's capabilities. At last came the turn in the long +approach, which showed the whole width of the Manor, with its +ancient rose-brick frontage and glorious oaken gables shining in the +warm afternoon sunlight,--the old Tudor courtyard spreading before +it, its grey walls and paving stones half hidden in a wilderness of +spring blossom. Here, too, the gates were open, and the one-horse +fly made its lumbering and awkward entrance within, drawing up with +a jerk at the carved portico. The young person in blue serge jumped +out, purse in hand. + +"Ten shillings, I think?" she said; but before the driver could +answer her, the great iron-clamped door of the Manor swung open, and +a respectable retainer in black stood on the threshold. + +"Oh, will you pay the driver, please?" said the young lady, +addressing this functionary; "He says his fare is ten shillings. I +daresay he would like an extra five shillings for himself as well," +and she smiled--"Here it is!" + +She handed the money to the personage in black, who was no other +than the former butler to Sir Morton Pippitt, now at the Manor on +temp'ry service,' and who in turn presented it with an official +stateliness to the startled fly-man, who was just waking up to the +fact that his fare, whom he had considered as a person of no account +whatever, was the actual mistress of the Manor. + +"Drive out to the left of the court," said the butler imperatively; +"Reverse way to which you entered." + +The submissive Jehu prepared to obey. The young person in blue serge +smiled up at him. + +"Good afternoon!" said she. + +"Same to you, mum!" he replied, touching his cap; "And thank ye +kindly!" + +Whereat, his stock of eloquence being exhausted, he whipped up his +steed to a gallop and departed in haste for the 'Mother Huff,' full +of eagerness to relate the news of Miss Vancourt's arrival, further +embellished by the fact that he had himself driven her up from the +station, 'all unbeknown like.' + +Miss Vancourt herself, meanwhile, stepped into her ancestral halls, +and stood for a moment, silent, looking round her with a wistful, +almost pathetic earnestness. + +"Tea is served in the morning-room, Madam," said the butler +respectfully, all the time wondering whether this slight, childlike- +looking creature was really Miss Vancourt, or some young friend of +hers sent as an advance herald of her arrival. "Mrs. Spruce thought +you would find it comfortable there." + +"Mrs. Spruce!" exclaimed the girl, eagerly; "Where is she?" + +"Here, ma'am-here, my lady," said a quavering voice-and Mrs. Spruce, +presenting quite a comely and maternal aspect in her best black silk +gown, and old-fashioned cap, with lace lappets, such as the late +Squire had always insisted on her wearing, came forward curtseying +nervously. + +"I hope, ma'am, you've had a pleasant journey--" + +But her carefully prepared sentence was cut short by a pair of arms +being flung suddenly round her, and a fresh face pressed against her +own. + +"Dear Mrs. Spruce! I am so glad to see you! You knew me when I was +quite a little thing, didn't you? And you knew my father, too! You +were very fond of my father, weren't you? I am sure you were! You +must try to be fond of me now!" + +Never, as Mrs. Spruce was afterwards wont to declare, had she been +so 'took back,' as by the unaffected spontaneity and sweetness of +this greeting on the part of the new mistress, whose advent she had +so greatly feared. She went, to quote her own words, 'all of a +fluster like, and near busted out cryin'. It was like a dear lovin' +little child comin' 'ome, and made me feel that queer you might have +knocked me down with a soap-bubble!' + +Whatever the worthy woman's feelings were, and however much the +respectable butler, whose name was Primmins, might have been +astonished in his own stately mind at Miss Vancourt's greeting of +her father's old servant, Miss Vancourt herself was quite +unconscious of any loss of dignity on her own part. + +"I am so glad!" she repeated; "It's like finding a friend at home to +find you, Spruce! I had quite forgotten what you looked like, but I +begin to remember now--you were always nice and kind, and you always +managed so well, didn't you? Yes, I'm sure you did! The man said tea +was in the morning-room. You come and pour it out for me, like a +dear old thing! I'm going to live alone in my own home now for +always,--for always!" she repeated, emphatically; "Nobody shall ever +take me away from it again!" + +She linked her arm confidingly in that of Mrs. Spruce, who for once +was too much astonished to speak,--Miss Vancourt was so entirely +different to the chill and reserved personage her imagination had +depicted, that she was quite at a loss how to look or what to say. + +"Is this the way?" asked Maryllia, stepping lightly past the stuffed +knight in armour; "Yes? I thought it was! I begin to remember +everything now! Oh, how I wish I had never gone away from this dear +old home!" + +She entered the morning-room, guiding Mrs. Spruce, rather than being +guided by her,--for as that worthy woman averred to Primmins at +supper that self-same night: "I was so all in a tremble and +puspration with 'er 'oldin' on to my arm and takin' me round, that I +was like the man in the Testymen what had dumb devils,--and scarcely +knew what ground my feet was a-fallin' on!" The cheerful air of +welcome which pervaded this charming, sunny apartment, with its +lattice windows fronting the wide stretch of velvety lawn, terrace +and park-land, delighted Maryllia, and she loosened her hold on Mrs. +Spruce's arm with a little cry of pleasure, as a huge magnificently +coated Newfoundland dog rose from his recumbent position near the +window, and came to greet her with slow and expansive waggings of +his great plumy tail. + +"Plato, my beauty!" she exclaimed; "How do you like Abbot's Manor, +boy? Eh? Quite at home, aren't you! Good dog! Isn't he a king of +dogs?" And she turned her smiling face on Mrs. Spruce. "A real king! +I bought him because he was so big! Weren't you frightened when you +saw such a monster?--and didn't you think he would bite everybody on +the least provocation? But he wouldn't, you know! He's a perfect +darling--as gentle as a lamb! He would kill anyone that wanted to +hurt me--oh, yes of course!--that's why I love him!" + +And she patted the enormous creature's broad head tenderly. + +"He's my only true friend!" she continued; "Money wouldn't buy HIS +fidelity!" Here, glancing at Mrs. Spruce, she laughed merrily. "Dear +Mrs. Spruce! You DO look so uncomfortable!--so--so warm! It IS warm, +isn't it? Make me some tea!--tea cools one, they say, though it's +hot to drink at first. We'll talk afterwards!" + +Mrs. Spruce, with inaudible murmurings, hastened to the tea-tray, +and tried to compose her agitated nerves by bringing her attention +to bear on the silver tea-kettle which Primmins had just brought in, +and in which the water was beginning to bubble, in obedience to the +newly-kindled flame of the spirit-lamp beneath. + +Maryllia, meanwhile, stepped out on the grass terrace in front of +the window, with the dog Plato at her side, and looked long and +earnestly at the fair stretch of woodland scenery before her. While +she thus stood absorbed, Mrs. Spruce stole covert glances at her +with increased wonder and bewilderment. She looked much younger than +her twenty-seven years,--her childlike figure and face portrayed her +as about eighteen, not more. She stood rather under than over the +medium height of woman,--yet she gave the impression of being taller +than she actually was, owing to the graceful curve of her arched +neck, which rose from her shoulders with a daintily-proud poise, +marking her demeanour as exceptional and altogether different to +that of ordinary women. Her back being turned to Mrs. Spruce for the +moment, that sagacious dame decided that she was 'real stately, for +all that she was small,' and also noted that her hair, coiled +loosely in a thick knot, which pushed itself with rebellious fulness +beyond the close-fitting edge of the dark straw hat she wore, was of +a warm auburn gold, rippling here and there into shades of darker +brown. Suddenly, with a decided movement, she turned from the +terrace and re-entered the morning-room. + +"Tea ready?" she asked. + +"Yes, ma'am!--yes, miss--my lady--it's just made--perhaps it's best +to let it draw a bit--" + +"I don't like it strong!" said Maryllia, sitting down, and leisurely +taking off her hat; "And you mustn't call me 'my lady.' I'm not the +daughter of an earl, or the wife of a knight. If I were Scotch, I +might say 'I'm Mclntosh of Mclntosh'; or some other Mac of Mac,--but +being English, I'm Vancourt of Vancourt! And you must call me +'Miss,' till I become 'Ma'am.' I don't want to bear any unnecessary +dignities before my time! In fact, I think you'd better call me Miss +Maryllia, as you used to do when my father was alive." + +"Very well, ma'am--miss--Miss Maryllia," faltered Mrs. Spruce, +fumbling distractedly with the tea-things, and putting cream and +sugar recklessly into three or four cups without thinking; "There! +Really, I don't know what I am a-doin' of--do you like cream and +sugar, my dear?--beggin' your parding--Miss Maryllia?" + +"Yes, I like cream and sugar both," replied the young lady with a +mirthful gleam in her eyes, as she noted the old housekeeper's +confusion; "But don't spoil the tea with either! If you put too much +cream, you will make the tea cold,--if you put too much sugar, you +will make it syrupy,--you must arrive at the juste milieu in a cup +of tea! I am VERY particular!" + +Poor Mrs. Spruce grew warmer and redder in the face than ever. What +was the 'juste milieu'? Often and often afterwards did she puzzle +over that remarkable phrase. + +"I think," continued Maryllia, with a dimpling smile, "if you put +one lump of sugar in the cup and two brimming tea-spoonfuls of +cream, it will be exactly right!" + +Gladly, and with relief, Mrs. Spruce obeyed these explicit +instructions, and handed her new mistress the desired refreshment +with assiduous and respectful care. + +"You are a dear!" said Maryllia, lazily taking the cup from her +hand; "Just the kindest and nicest of persons! And good-tempered? I +am sure you are good-tempered, aren't you?" + +"Pretty well so, Miss," responded Mrs. Spruce, now gaining courage +to look at the fair smiling face opposite her own, more squarely and +openly; "Leastways, I've been told I keeps my 'ead under any amount +of kitchen jawin'. For, as you may believe me, in a kitchen where +there's men as well as women, an' a servants' 'All leadin' straight +through from the kitchen, jawin' there is and jawin' there must be, +and such bein' the Lord's will, we must put up with it. But it wants +a 'ead to keep things straight, and I generally arranges pretty +well, though I'll not deny but I'm a bit flustered to-day,-- +howsomever, it will soon be all right, and any think that's wrong, +Miss, if you will be so good as to tell me--" + +"I will!" said Maryllia, sweetly; and she leaned back in her chair, +whimsically surveying the garrulous old dame with eyes which Mrs. +Spruce then and there discovered to be 'the most beautiful blue eyes +ever seen,'--"I will tell you all I do like, and all I don't like. +I'm sure we shall get on well together. The tea is perfect,--and +this room is exquisite. In fact, everything is delightful, and I'm +so happy to be in my own home once more! I wish I had never left +it!" + +Her eyes darkened suddenly, and she sighed. Mrs. Spruce watched her +in submissive silence, realising as she gazed that Miss Maryllia was +'a real beauty and no mistake.' Why and how she came to that +conclusion, she could not very well have explained. Her ideas of +feminine loveliness were somewhat hazy and restricted. She privately +considered her own girl, Kitty, 'the handsomest lass in all the +country-side' and she had been known to bitterly depreciate what she +called 'the pink and white dolly-face' of Susie Prescott, the +acknowledged young belle of the village. But there was an +indefinable air of charm about her new lady which was quite foreign +to all her experience,--a bewildering grace and ease of manner +arising from high education and social cultivation, that confused +her and robbed her of all her usual self-sufficiency; and for once +in her life she checked her customary volubility and decided that it +was perhaps best to say as little as possible till she saw exactly +how things were going to turn out. Miss Maryllia was very kind,--but +who could tell whether she was not also capricious? There was +something slightly quizzical as well as sweet in her smile,-- +something subtle--something almost mysterious. She had greeted her +father's old servant as affectionately as a child,--but her +enthusiasm might be only temporary. So Mrs. Spruce vaguely reflected +as she stood with her hands folded on her apron, waiting for the +next word. That next word came with a startling suddenness. + +"Oh, you wicked Spruce! How could you!" + +And Maryllia, springing up from her chair, made a bound to the +opposite corner of the room, where there was a tall vase filled with +peacocks' feathers. Gathering all these in her hand, she flourished +them dramatically in the old housekeeper's face. + +"The most unlucky things in the world!" she exclaimed; "Peacocks' +feathers! How could you allow them to be in this room on the very +day of my return! It's dreadful!--quite dreadful!--you know it is! +Nothing is quite so awful as a peacock's feather!" + +Mrs. Spruce stared, gasped and blinked,--her hand involuntarily +wandered to her side in search for convenient 'spasms.' + +"They've always been 'ere, Miss," she stammered; "I 'adn't no idee +as 'ow you wouldn't like them, though to tell the truth, I 'ave +'eard somethin' about their bein' onlucky---" + +"Unlucky! I should think so!" replied Maryllia, holding the +objectionable plumes as far away from herself as possible,--"No +wonder we've been unfortunate, if these feathers were always in the +old house! No wonder everything went wrong! I must break the spell +at once and for ever. Are there more of these horrible 'witch-eyes' +in any of the rooms?" + +Poor Mrs. Spruce made a great effort to cudgel her memory. She was +affected by 'a palpitation,' as she expressed it. There was her +newly-arrived mistress confronting her with the authoritative air of +a young empress, holding the bunch of glittering peacocks' plumes +aloft, like a rod uplifted for summary chastisement, and asking her +to instantly remember whether there were any more 'horrible witch- +eyes' about. Mrs. Spruce had never before heard such a term applied +to the tail-sheddings of the imperial fowl,--but she never forgot +it, and never afterwards saw a peacock's feather without a qualm. + +"I couldn't say, Miss; I'm not sure--" she answered flutteringly; +"But I'll have every 'ole and corner searched to-morrow---" + +"No, to-night!" said Maryllia, with determination; "I will not sleep +in the house if ONE peacock's feather remains in it! There!" Her +brows were bent tragically;--in another moment she laughed; "Take +them away!" she continued, picking up Mrs. Spruce's apron at the +corners and huddling all the glittering plumage into its capacious +folds; "Take them all away! And go right through the house, and +collect every remaining feather you can find--and then--and then---" + +Here she paused dubiously. "You mustn't burn them, you know! That +would be unluckier still!" + +"Lor! Would it now, Miss? I never should 'ave thought it!" murmured +Mrs. Spruce plaintively, grasping her apronful of 'horrible witch- +eyes'; "What on earth shall I do with them?" + +Maryllia considered. Very pretty she looked at that moment, with one +small finger placed meditatively on her lips, which were curved +close like a folded rosebud. "You must either bury them, or drown +them!" she said at last, with the gravest decision; "If you drown +them, you must tie them to a stone, so that they will not float. If +you bury them, you must dig ten feet deep! You must really! If you +don't, they will all come up again, and the eyes will be all over +the place, haunting you!" Here she broke into the merriest little +laugh possible. "Poor Spruce! You do look so miserable! See here-- +I'll tell you what to do! Pack them ail in a box, and I will send +them to my aunt Emily! She loves them! She likes to see them stuck +all over the drawing-room. They're never unlucky to her. She has a +fellow-feeling for peacocks; there is a sort of affinity between +herself and them! Pack up every feather you can find, Spruce! The +box must go to-night by parcel's post Address to Mrs. Fred Vancourt, +at the Langham Hotel. She's staying there just now. Will you be sure +to send them off to-night?" + +She held up her little white hand entreatingly, and her blue eyes +wonderfully sweet and childlike, yet grave and passionate, looked +straight into the elder woman's wrinkled apple face. + +"When she looked at me like that, I'd a gone barefoot to kingdom- +come for her!" Mrs. Spruce afterwards declared to some of her +village intimates--"And as for the peacocks' feathers, I'd a +scrubbed though the 'ole 'ouse from top to bottom afore I'd a let +one be in it!" + +To Maryllia she said: + +"You may take my word for it, Miss! They'll all go out of the 'ouse +'fore seven o'clock. I'll send them myself to the post." + +"Thank you, so much!" said Maryllia, with a comical little sigh of +relief. "And now, Spruce, I will go to my bedroom and lie down for +an hour. I'm just a little tired. Have you managed to get a maid for +me?" + +"Well, Miss, there's jest a gel-she don't know anythink much, but +she's 'andy and willin' and 'umble, and quick with her needle, and +tidy at foldin', and got a good character. She's the best I could +do, Miss. Her name is Nancy Pyrle--I'll send her to you directly." + +"Yes, do!" answered Miss Vancourt, with a little yawn; "And show me +to my rooms;--you prepared the ones I told you--my mother's rooms?" + +"Yes, Miss," answered Mrs. Spruce in subdued accents; "I've made +them all fresh and sweet and clean; but of course the furniture is +left jest as it was when the Squire locked 'em all up after he lost +his lady--" + +Maryllia said nothing, but followed the housekeeper upstairs, the +great dog Plato in attendance on her steps. On reaching the bedroom, +hung with faded rose silk hangings, and furnished with sixteenth +century oak, she looked at everything: with a curious wistfulness +and reverence. Approaching the dressing-table, she glanced at her +own reflection in the mirror; but fair as the reflection was that +glanced back at her, she gave it no smile. She was serious and +absorbed, and her eyes were clouded with a sudden mist of tears. +Mrs. Spruce took the opportunity to slip away with her collection of +peacocks' feathers, and descended in haste to the kitchen, where for +some time the various orders she issued caused much domestic +perturbation, and fully expressed the chaotic condition of her own +mind. The maid, Nancy Pyrle, was hustled off to 'wait on Miss +Vancourt upstairs, and don't be clumsy with your 'ands, whatever you +do!'--Primmins, the butler, was sent to remove the tea-things from +the morning-room,--at which command he turned round somewhat +indignantly, asking 'who are you a-orderin' of; don't you think I +know my business?'--Spruce himself, unhappily coming by chance to +the kitchen door to ask if it was really true that Miss Vancourt had +arrived, was shrilly told to 'go along and mind his own business,'-- +and so it happened that when Bainton appeared, charged with the +Reverend John Walden's message concerning the Five Sisters, he might +as well have tried to obtain an unprepared audience with the King, +as to see or speak with the lady of the Manor. Miss Vancourt had +arrived--oh yes, she had certainly arrived, Mrs. Spruce told him, +with much heat and energy; but she was tired and was lying down, and +certainly could not be asked to see anyone, no matter what the +business was. And to make things more emphatic, at the very time +that Bainton was urging his cause, and Mrs. Spruce was firmly +rejecting it, Nancy Pyrle came down from attendance on her mistress +and said that Miss Vancourt was going to sleep a little, and she did +not wish to be disturbed till she rang her bell. + +"Oh, and she's beautiful!" said Nancy, drawing a long breath,--"and +so very kind! She showed me how to do all she wanted--and was that +patient and gentle! She says I'll make quite a good maid after a +bit!" + +"Well, I hope to the Lord you will!" said Mrs. Spruce with a sniffy +"For it's a chance in a 'undred, comin' straight out of the village +to a first situation with, a lady like Miss Vancourt. And I 'ope +you'll profit by it! And if you 'adn't taken the prize for +needlework in the school, you wouldn't 'ave 'ad it, so now you sees +what good it does to serve your elders when you're young." Here she +turned to Bainton, who was standing disconsolately half in and half +out of the kitchen doorway. "I'm real sorry, Mr. Bainton, that you +can't see our lady, more 'specially as you wishes to give a message +from Passon Walden himself--but you jest go back and tell 'im 'ow it +is;--Miss Vancourt is restin' and can't be disturbed nohow." + +Bainton twirled his cap nervously in his hand. + +"I s'pose no one couldn't say to her quiet-like as 'ow the Five +Sisters be chalked?--" + +Mrs. Spruce raised her fat hands with a gesture of dismay. + +"Lor' bless the man!" she exclaimed; "D'ye think we're goin' to +worrit Miss Vancourt with the likes o' that the very first evenin' +she's set foot in 'er own 'ouse? Why, we dussn't! An' that there +great dog Plato lyin' on guard outside 'er door! I've 'ad enough to- +day with peacocks' feathers, let alone the Five Sisters! Besides, +Oliver Leach is agent 'ere, and what he says is sure to be done. She +won't worry 'erself about it,--and you may be pretty certain he +won't be interfered with. You tell Passon Walden I'm real sorry, but +it can't be 'elped." + +Reluctantly, Bainton turned away. He was never much disposed for a +discussion with Mrs. Spruce,--her mind was too illogical, and her +tongue too persistent. Her allusion to peacocks' feathers was +unintelligible to him, and he wondered whether 'anythink she's been +an' took' had gone to her head. Anyway, his errand was foiled for +the moment. But he was not altogether disheartened. He determined +not to go back to Walden with his message quite undelivered. + +"Where there's a will, there's a way!" he said to himself. "I'll go +and do a bit of shoutin' to Spruce,--deaf as he is, he's more +reasonable-like than his old 'ooman!" + +With this resolve, he went his way by a short-cut through Abbot's +Manor gardens to a small thatched shelter in the woods, known as +'the foresters' hut,' where Spruce was generally to be found at +about sunset, smoking a peaceful pipe, alone and well out of his +wife's way. + +Meanwhile, Maryllia Vancourt, lying wide awake on her bed in the +long unused room that was to have been her mother's, experienced +various chaotic sensations of mingled pleasure and pain. For the +first time in her life of full womanhood she was alone,-- +independent,--free to come or go as she listed, with no one to +gainsay her wishes, or place a check on her caprices. She had +deliberately thrown off her aunt's protection; and with that action, +had given up the wealth and luxury with which she had been lavishly +surrounded ever since her father's death. For reasons of her own, +which she considered sufficiently cogent, she had also resigned all +expectations of being her aunt's heiress. She had taken her liberty, +and was prepared to enjoy it. She had professed herself perfectly +contented to live on the comparatively small patrimony secured to +her by her father's will. It was quite enough, she said, for a +single woman,--at any rate, she would make it enough. + +And here she was, in her own old home,--the home of her childhood, +which she was ashamed to think she had well-nigh forgotten. Since +her fifteenth year she had travelled nearly all over the world; +London, Paris, Vienna, New York, had each in turn been her 'home' +under the guidance of her wealthy perambulating American relative; +and in the brilliant vortex of an over-moneyed society, she had been +caught and whirled like a helpless floating straw. Mrs. 'Fred' +Vancourt, as her aunt was familiarly known to the press +paragraphist, had spared no pains to secure for her a grand +marriage,--and every possible advantage that could lead to that one +culminating point, had been offered to her. She had been taught +everything; that could possibly add to her natural gifts of +intelligence; she had been dressed exquisitely, taken about +everywhere, and 'shown off' to all the impecunious noblemen of +Europe;--she had been flattered, praised, admired, petted and +generally spoilt, and had been proposed to by 'eligible' gentlemen +with every recurring season,--but all in vain. She had taken a +singular notion into her head--an idea which her matter-of-fact aunt +told her was supremely ridiculous. She wanted to be loved. + +"Any man can ask a girl to marry him, if he has pluck and +impudence!" she said; "Especially if the girl has money, or +expectations of money, and is not downright deformed, repulsive and +ill-bred. But proposals of marriage don't always mean love. I don't +care a bit about being married,--but I do want to be loved--really +loved!--I want to be 'dear to someone else' as Tennyson sings it,-- +not for what I HAVE, but for what I AM." + +It was this curious, old-fashioned notion of wanting to be loved, +that had estranged Maryllia from her wealthy American protectress. +It had developed from mere fireside argument and occasional +dissension, into downright feud, and its present result was self- +evident. Maryllia had broken her social fetters, and had returned to +her own rightful home in a state which, for her, considered by her +past experience, was one of genteel poverty, but which was also one +of glorious independence. And as she restfully reclined under the +old rose silk hangings which were to have encanopied that perished +beauty from which she derived her own fairness, she was conscious of +a novel and soothing sense of calm. The rush and hurry and frivolity +of society seemed put away and done with; through her open window +she could hear the rustling of leaves and the singing of birds;--the +room in which she found herself pleased her taste as well as her +sentiment,--and though the faintest shadow of vague wonder crossed +her mind as to what she would do with her time, now that she had +gained her own way and was actually all alone in the heart of the +country, she did not permit such a thought to trouble her peace. The +grave tranquillity of the old house was already beginning to exert +its influence on her always quick and perceptive mind,--the dear +remembrance of her father whom she had idolised, and whose sudden +death had been the one awful shock of her life, came back to her now +with a fresh and tender pathos. Little incidents of her childhood +and of its affection, such as she thought she had forgotten, +presented themselves one by one in the faithful recording cells of +her brain,--and the more or less feverish and hurried life she had +been compelled to lead under her aunt's command and chaperonage, +began to efface itself slowly, like a receding coast-line from a +departing vessel. + +"It is home!" she said; "And I have not been in a home for years! +Aunt Emily's houses were never 'home.' And this is MY home--my very +own; the home of our family for generations. I ought to be proud of +it, and I WILL be proud of it! Even Aunt Emily used to say that +Abbot's Manor was a standing proof of the stuck-up pride of the +Vancourts! I'm sure I shall find plenty to do here. I can farm my +own lands and live on the profits--if there are any!" + +She laughed a little, and rising from the bed went to the window and +leaned out. A large white clematis pushed its moonlike blossom up to +her face, as though asking to be kissed, and a bright red butterfly +danced dreamily up and down in the late sunbeams, now poising on the +ivy and anon darting off again into the mild still air. + +"It's perfectly lovely!" said Maryllia, with a little sigh of +content; "And it is all my own!" + +She drew her head in from the window and turned to her mirror. + +"I'm getting old," she said, surveying herself critically, and with +considerable disfavour;--"It's all the result of society 'pressure,' +as they call it. There's a line here--and another there"--indicating +the imaginary facial defects with a small tapering forefinger--"And +I daresay I have some grey hairs, if I could only find them." Here +she untwisted the coil at the back of her head and let it fall in a +soft curling shower round her shoulders--"Oh, yes!--I daresay!" she +went on, addressing her image in the glass; "You think it looks very +pretty--but that is only an 'effect,' you know! It's like the +advertisements the photographers do for the hairdressers; 'Hair- +positively-forced-to-grow-in-six-weeks' sort of thing. Oh, what a +dear old chime!" This, as she heard the ancient clock in the square +turret which overlooked the Tudor courtyard give forth a mellow +tintinnabulation. "What time is it, I wonder?" She glanced at the +tiny trifle of a watch she had taken off and placed on her dressing- +table. "Quarter past seven! I must have had a doze, after all. I +think I will ring for Nancy Pyrle"--and she suited the action to the +word; "I have not the least idea where my clothes are." + +Nancy obeyed the summons with alacrity. She could not help a slight +start as she saw her mistress, looking like 'the picture of an +angel' as she afterwards described it, in her loose white dressing- +gown, with all her hair untwisted and floating over her shoulders. +She had never seen any human creature quite so lovely. + +"Do you know where my dresses are, Nancy?" enquired Maryllia. + +"Yes, Miss. Mrs. Spruce unpacked everything herself, and the dresses +are all hanging in this wardrobe." Here Nancy went to the piece of +furniture in question. "Which one shall I give you, Miss?" + +Maryllia came to her side, and looked scrutinisingly at all the +graceful Parisian and Viennese flimsies that hung in an. orderly row +within the wardrobe, uncertain which to take. At last she settled on +an exceedingly simple white tea-gown, shaped after a Greek model, +and wholly untrimmed, save for a small square gold band at the +throat. + +"This will do!" she decided; "Nobody's coming to dine; I shall be +all alone--" + +The thought struck her as quaint and strange. Nobody coming to +dinner! How very odd! At Aunt Emily's there was always someone, or +several someones, to dinner. To-night she would dine all alone. +Well! It would be a novel experience! + +"Are there any nice people living about here?" she asked Nancy, as +that anxious young woman carefully divested her of her elegant +dressing-gown; "People I should like to know?" + +"Oh, I don't think so, Miss," replied Nancy, quite frankly, watching +in wonder the dexterity and grace with which her mistress swept up +all her hair into one rich twist and knotted it with two big +tortoiseshell hairpins at the back of her head. "There's Sir Morton +Pippitt at Badsworth Hall, three miles from here--" + +Maryllia laughed gaily. + +"Sir Morton Pippitt! What a funny name! Who is he?" + +"Well, Miss, they do say he makes his money at bone-melting; but +he's awful proud for all that--awful proud he is--" + +"Well, I should think so!" said Maryllia, with much solemnity; +"Bone-melting is a great business! Does he melt human bones, Nancy?" + +"Oh, lor', Miss, no!" And Nancy laughed, despite herself; "Not that +I've ever heard on--it's bones of animals he melts and turns into +buttons and such-like." + +"Man is an animal, Nancy," said Maryllia, sententiously, giving one +or two little artistic touches to the loose waves of hair on her +forehead; "Why should not HIS bones be turned into buttons? Why +should HE not be made useful? You may depend upon it, Nancy, human +bones go into Sir Morton What's-his-name's stock-pot. I shouldn't +wonder if he had left his own bones to his business in his will! + + "'Imperial Caesar dead and turned to clay, May stop a hole to + keep the wind away!' + +That's so, Nancy! And is the gentleman who boils bones the only man +about here one could ask to dinner?" + +Nancy reflected. + +"There's the Passon--" she began. + +"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Maryllia, with a little shrug of +impatience; "Worse than the bone-boiler!--a thousand times worse! +There! That will do, Nancy! I'll stroll about till dinner's ready." + +She left the room and descended the stairs, followed by the faithful +Plato, and was soon to be seen by various retainers of the curious +and excited household, walking slowly up and down on the grass +terrace in her flowing white draperies, the afterglow of the sinking +sun shining on her gold-brown hair, and touching up little reddish +ripples in it,--such ripples as were painted by the artist of +Charles the Second's day when he brushed into colour and canvas the +portrait of Mary Elia Adelgisa de Vaignecourt. Primmins, late butler +to the irascible Sir Morton Pippitt, was so taken with the sight of +her that he then and there resolved his 'temp'ry service' should be +life-long, if he could manage to please her; and little Kitty Spruce +being permitted by her mother to peep at the 'new lady' through the +staircase window, could only draw a long breath and ejaculate: "Oh! +Ain't she lovely!" while she followed with eagerly admiring eyes the +gossamer trail of Maryllia's white gown on the soft turf, and +strained her ears to catch the sound of the sweet voice which +suddenly broke out in a careless chansonette: + + "Tu m'aimes, cherie? + Dites-moi! + Seulement un petit 'oui,' + Je demande a toi! + Le bonheur supreme + Vient quand on aime, + N'est-ce-pas cherie? + 'Oui'!" + +"She's singin' to herself!" said the breathless Kitty, whispering to +her mother; "Ain't she jest smilin' and beautiful?" + +"Well, I will own," replied Mrs. Spruce, "she's as different to the +lady _I_ expected as cheese from chalk, which they generally says +chalk from cheese, howsomever, that don't matter. But if I don't +mistake, she's got a will of 'er own, for all that she's so smilin' +and beautiful as you says, Kitty; and now don't YOU go runnin' away +with notions that you can dress like 'er or look like 'er,--for when +once a gel of YOUR make thinks she can imitate the fashions and the +ways of a great lady, she's done for, body and soul! YOU ain't goin' +to wear white gowns and trail 'em up an' down on the grass, nor 'ave +big dogs a-follerin' up an' down while you sings in a furrin +langwidge to yerself; no, not if you was to read all the trashy +story-books in the world--so you needn't think it. For there ain't +no millionaires comin' arter you, as they doos in penny novels,--nor +nothink else what's dished up in newspapers; so jes' wear your +cotton frocks in peace, an' don't worry me with wantin' to look like +Miss Maryllia, for you never won't look like 'er if ye tried till ye +was dead! Remember that, now! The Lord makes a many women,--but now +and again He turns out a few chice samples which won't bear +copyin.'. Miss Maryllia's one of them samples, and we must take 'er +with prayer and thanksgivin' as sich!" + + + + +IX + + +Maryllia's first solitary dinner in the home of her ancestors passed +off with tolerable success. She found something not altogether +unpleasant in being alone after all. Plato was always an +intelligent, well-behaved and dignified companion in his canine way, +and the meal was elegantly served by Primmins, who waited on his new +mistress with as much respect and zeal as if she had been a queen. A +sense of authority and importance began to impress itself upon her +as she sat at the head of her own table in her own dining-hall, with +all the Vandykes and Holbeins and Gainsboroughs gazing placidly down +upon her from their gilded frames, and the flicker of many wax +candles in old silver sconces glancing upon the shields, helmets, +rusty pikes and crossed swords that decorated the panelling of the +walls between and above the pictures. + +"Fancy! No gas and no electric light! It is simply charming!" she +thought, "And so becoming to one's dress and complexion! Only +there's nobody to see the becomingness. But I can soon remedy that. +Lots of people will come down and stay here if I only ask them. +There's one thing quite certain about society folk--they will always +come where they can be lodged and boarded free! They call it country +visiting, but it really means shutting up their houses, dismissing +their servants, and generally economising on their housekeeping +bills. I've seen SUCH a lot of it!" + +She heaved a little sigh over these social reminiscences, and +finished her repast in meditative silence. She had not been +accustomed to much thinking, and to indulge in it at all for any +length of time was actually a novelty. Her aunt had told her never +to think, as it made the face serious, and developed lines on the +forehead. And she had, under this kind of tutelage, became one of a +brilliant, fashionable, dress-loving crowd of women, who spend most +of their lives in caring for their complexions and counting their +lovers. Yet every now and again, a wave of repugnance to such a +useless sort of existence arose in her and made a stormy rebellion. +Surely there was something nobler in life--something higher-- +something more useful and intelligent than the ways and manners of a +physically and morally degenerate society? + +It was a still, calm evening, and the warmth of the sun all day had +drawn such odours from the hearts of the flowers that the air was +weighted with perfume when she wandered out again into her garden +after dinner, and looked up wistfully at the gables of the Manor set +clear against a background of dark blue sky patterned with stars. A +certain gravity oppressed her. There was, after all, something just +a little eerie in the on-coming of night in this secluded woodland +place where she had voluntarily chosen to dwell all alone and +unprotected, rather than lend herself to her aunt's match-making +schemes. + +"Of course," she argued with herself, "I need not stay here if I +don't like it. I can get a paid companion and go travelling,--but, +oh dear, I've had so much travelling!--or I can own myself in the +wrong to Aunt Emily, and marry that wretch Roxmouth,--Oh, no! I +COULD not! I WILL not!" + +She gave an impatient little stamp with her foot, and anon surveyed +the old house with affectionate eyes. + +"You shall be my rescue!" she said, kissing her hand playfully to +the latticed windows,--"You shall turn me into an old-fashioned +lady, fond of making jams and pickles, and preserves and herbal +waters! I'll put away all the idiotic intrigues and silly fooling of +modern society in one of your quaint oaken cupboards, and lock them +all up with little bags of lavender to disinfect them! And I will +wait for someone to come and find me out and love me; and if no one +ever comes--" Here she paused, then went on,--"If no one ever comes, +why then--" and she laughed--"some man will have lost a good chance +of marrying as true a girl as ever lived!--a girl who could love-- +ah!" And she stretched out her pretty rounded arms to the scented +air. "HOW she could love if she were loved!" + +The young moon here put in a shy appearance by showing a fleck of +silver above the highest gable of the Manor. + + "A little diamond peak, + No bigger than an unobserved star, + Or tiny point of fairy scimitar; + Bright signal that she only stooped to tie + Her silver sandals ere deliciously + She bowed unto the heavens her timid head, + Slowly she rose as though she would have fled." + +"There's no doubt," said Maryllia, "that this place is romantic! And +romance is what I've been searching for all my life, and have never +found except in books. Not so much in modern books as in the books +that were written by really poetical and imaginative people sixty or +seventy years ago. Nowadays, the authors that are most praised go in +for what they call 'realism'--and their realism is very UNreal, and +very nasty. For instance, this garden,--these lovely trees,--this +dear old house--all these are real--but much too romantic for a +modern writer. He would rather describe a dusthole and enumerate +every potato paring in it! And here am I--I'm real enough--but I'm +not a bad woman--I haven't got what is euphoniously called 'a past,' +and I don't belong to the right-down vicious company of 'Souls.' So +I should never do for a heroine of latter-day fiction. I'm afraid +I'm abnormal. It's dreadful to be abnormal! One becomes a +'neurotic,' like Lombroso, and all the geniuses. But suppose the +world were full of merely normal people,--people who did nothing but +eat and sleep in the most perfectly healthy and regular manner,--oh, +what a bore it would be! There would be no pictures, no sculpture, +no poetry, no music, no anything worth living for. One MUST have a +few ideas beyond food and clothing!" + +The moon, rose higher and shed a shower of silver over the grass, +lighting up in strong relief the fair face upturned to it. + +"Now the 'Souls' pretend to have ideas," continued Maryllia, still +apostrophising the bland stillness; "But their ideas are low,-- +decidedly low,--and decidedly queer. And that Cabinet Ministers are +in their set doesn't make them any the better. I could have been a +'Soul' if I had liked. I could have learnt a lot of wicked secrets +from the married peer who wanted to be my 'affinity,'--only I +wouldn't. I could have got all the Government 'tips,' gambled with +them on the Stock Exchange, and made quite a fortune as a 'Soul.' +Yet here I am,--no 'Soul,'--but only a poor little body, with +something in me that asks for a higher flight than mere social +intrigue. Just a bit of a higher flight, eh, Plato? What do you +think about it?" + +Plato the leonine, waved his plumy tail responsively and gently +rubbed his great head against her arm. Resting one hand lightly on +his neck, she moved towards the house and slowly ascended the +graduating slopes of the grass terrace. Here she was suddenly met by +Primmins. + +"Beg your pardon, Miss," he said, with an apologetic air, "but +there's an old man from the village come up to see you--a very old +man,--he's had to be carried in a chair, and it's took a couple of +men nigh an hour and a half to bring him along. He says he knew you +years ago--I hardly like to send him away--" + +"Certainly not!--of course you mustn't send him away," said +Maryllia, quickening her steps; "Poor old dear! Where is he?" + +"In the great, hall, Miss. They brought him through the courtyard +and got him in there, before I had time to send them round to the +back entrance." + +Maryllia entered the house. There she was met by Mrs. Spruce, with +uplifted hands. + +"Well, it do beat me altogether, Miss," she exclaimed, "as to how +these silly men, my 'usband, too, one of the silliest, beggin' your +parding, could bring that poor old Josey Letherbarrow up here all +this way! And he not toddled beyond the church this seven or eight +years! And it's all about those blessed Five Sisters they've come, +though I told 'em you can't nohow be worrited and can't see no one-- +" + +"But I can!" said Maryllia decisively; "I can see anyone who wishes +to see me, and I will. Let me pass, Mrs. Spruce, please!" + +Mrs. Spruce, thus abruptly checked, stood meekly aside, controlling +her desire to pour forth fresh remonstrances at the unseemliness of +any person or persons intruding upon the lady of the Manor at so +late an hour in the evening as half-past nine o'clock. Maryllia +hastened into the hall and there found an odd group awaiting her, +composed of three very odd-looking personages,--much more novel and +striking in their oddity than anything that could have been +presented to her view in the social whirl of Paris and London. Josey +Letherbarrow was the central figure, seated bolt upright in a cane +arm-chair, through the lower part of which a strong pole had been +thrust, securely nailed and clamped, as well as tied in a somewhat +impromptu fashion with clothes-line. This pole projected about two +feet on either side of the chair to accommodate the bearers, namely +Spruce and Bainton, who, having set their burden down, were now +wiping their hot faces and perspiring brows with flagrantly coloured +handkerchiefs of an extra large size. As Maryllia appeared, they +abruptly desisted from this occupation and remained motionless, +stricken with sudden confusion and embarrassment. Not so old Josey, +for with unexpected alacrity he got out of his chair and stood +upright, supporting himself on his stick, and doffing his old straw +hat to the light girlish figure that approached him with the grace +of kindliness and sympathy expressed in its every movement. + +"There she be!" he exclaimed; "There be the little gel wot I used to +know when she was a babby, God bless 'er! Jes' the same eyes and +'air and purty face of 'er! Welcome 'ome to th' owld Squire's +daughter, mates! D'ye 'ear me!" And he turned a dim rolling eye of +command on Spruce and Bainton--"I sez welcome 'ome! And when I sez +it I'spect it to be said arter me by the both of ye,--welcome 'ome!" + +Spruce, unable to hear a word of this exordium, smiled sheepishly,-- +and twirling the cap he held, put his coloured handkerchief into it +and squeezed it tightly within the lining. Bainton, with the +impending fate of the Five Sisters in view, judged it advisable not +to irritate or disobey the old gentleman whom he had brought forward +as special pleader in the case, and gathering his wits together he +spoke out bravely. + +"Welcome 'ome, it is, Josey!" he said; "We both sez it, and we both +means it! And we 'opes the young lady will not take it amiss as 'ow +we've come to see 'er on the first night of 'er return, and wish 'er +'appy in the old 'ouse and long may she remain in it!" + +Here he broke off, his eloquence being greatly disturbed by the +gracious smile Maryllia gave him. + +"Thank you so much!" she murmured sweetly; and then going up to +Josey Letherbarrow, she patted the brown wrinkled hand that grasped +the stick. "How kind and good of you to come and see me! And so you +knew me when I was a little girl? I hope I was nice to you! Was I?" + +Josey waved his straw hat speechlessly. His first burst of +enthusiasm over, he was somewhat dazed, and a little uncertain as to +how he should next proceed with his mission, + +"Tell 'er as 'ow the Five Sisters be chalked;" growled Bainton in an +undertone. + +But Josey's mind had gone wandering far afield, groping amid +memories of the past, and his aged eyes were fixed on Maryllia with +a strange look of wonder and remembrance commingled. + +"Th' owld Squire! Th' owld Squire!" he muttered; "I see 'im now--as +broad an' tall and well-set up a gentleman as ever lived--and sez +he: 'Josey, that little white thing is all I've got left of the wife +I was bringin' 'ome to be the sunshine of the old Manor.' Ay, he +said that! 'Its eyes are like those of my Dearest!' Ay, he said +that, too! The little white thing! She's 'ere,--and th' owld +Squire's gone!" + +The pathos of his voice struck Maryllia to the heart,--and for the +moment she could not keep back a few tears that gathered, despite +herself, and glistened on her long lashes. Furtively she dashed them +away, but not before Bainton had seen them. + +"Well, arter all, Josey's nothin' but a meanderin' old idgit!" he +thought angrily: "'Ere 'ave I been an' took 'im for a wise man wot +would know exackly 'ow to begin and ask for the sparin' of the old +trees, and if he ain't gone on the wrong tack altogether and made +the poor little lady cry! I think I'll do a bit of this business +myself while I've got the chance--for if I don't, ten to one he'll +be tellin' the story of the wopses' nest next, and a fine oncommon +show we'll make of ourselves 'ere with our manners." And he coughed +loudly--"Ahem! Josey, will you tell Miss Vancourt about the Five +Sisters, or shall I?" + +Maryllia glanced from one to the other in bewilderment. + +"The Five Sisters!" she echoed; "Who are they?" + +Here Spruce imagined, as he often did, that he had been asked a +question. + +"Such were our orders from Mr. Leach," he said, in his quiet equable +voice; "We's to be there to-morrow marnin' quarter afore six with +ropes and axes." + +"Ropes and axes shall not avail against the finger of the Lord, or +the wrath of the Almighty!" said Josey Letherbarrow, suddenly coming +out of his abstraction; "And if th' owld Squire were alive he +wouldn't have had 'em touched--no, not he! He'd ha' starved sooner! +And if the Five Sisters are laid low, the luck of the Manor will lay +low with 'em! But it's not too late--not too late!"--and he turned +his face, now alive in its every feature with strong emotion, to +Maryllia--"Not too late if the Squire's little gel is still her +father's pride and glory! And that's what I've come for to the Manor +this night,--I ain't been inside the old 'ouse for this ten 'ear or +more, but they's brought me,--me--old Josey,--stiff as I am, and +failin' as I am, to see ye, my dear little gel, and ask ye for God's +love to save the old trees wot 'as waved in the woodland free and +wild for 'undreds o' years, and wot deserves more gratitude from +Abbot's Manor than killin' for long service!" + +He began to tremble with nervous excitement, and Maryllia put her +hand soothingly on his arm. + +"You must sit down, Josey," she said; "You will be so tired +standing! Sit down and tell me all about it! What trees are you +speaking of? And who is going to cut them down! You see I don't know +anything about the place yet,--I've only just arrived--but if they +are my trees, and you say my father would not have wished them to be +cut down, they shan't be cut down!--be sure of that!" + +Josey's eyes sparkled, and he waved his battered hat triumphantly. + +"Didn't I tell ye?" he exclaimed, turning round upon Bainton; +"Didn't I say as 'ow this was the way to do it?--and as 'ow the +little gel wot I knew as a baby would listen to me when she wouldn't +listen to no one else? An' as 'ow the Five Sisters would be spared? +An' worn't I right! Worn't I true?" + +Maryllia smiled. + +"You really must sit down!" she said again, gently persuading him +into his chair, wherein he sank heavily, like a stone, though his +face shone with alertness and vigour. "Primmins!" and she addressed +that functionary who had been standing in the background watching +the little scene; "Bring some glasses of port wine." Primmins +vanished to execute this order. "Now, you dear old man," continued +Maryllia, drawing up an oaken settle close to Josey's knee and +seating herself with a confidential air; "you must tell me just what +you want me to do, and I will do it!" + +She looked a mere child, with her fair face upturned and her +rippling hair falling loosely away from her brows. A great +tenderness softened Josey's eyes as he fixed them upon her. + +"God Almighty bless ye!" he said, raising his trembling hand above +her head; "God bless ye in your uprisin' and downlyin',--and make +the old 'ouse and the old ways sweet to ye! For there's naught like +'ome in a wild wandering world--and naught like love to make +'appiness out of sorrow! God bless ye, dear little gel!--and give ye +all your 'art's desire, if so be it's for your good and guidin'!" + +Instinctively, Maryllia bent her head with a pretty reverence under +the benediction of so venerable a personage, and gently pressed the +wrinkled hand as it slowly dropped again. Then glancing at Bainton, +she said softly: + +"He's very tired, I'm afraid!--perhaps too tired to tell me all he +wishes to say. Will you explain what it is he wants?" + +Bainton, thus adjured, took courage. + +"Thank ye kindly, Miss; and if I may make so bold, it's not what he +wants more'n wot all the village wants and wot we've been 'opin' +against 'ope for, trustin' to the chance of your comin' 'ome to do +it for us. Passon Walden he's a rare good man, and he's done all he +can, and he's been and seen Oliver Leach, but it ain't all no use,-- +-" + +He paused, as Maryllia interrupted him by a gesture. + +"Oliver Leach?" she queried; "He's my agent here, I believe?" + +"Jes' so, Miss--he was put in as agent arter the Squire's death, and +he's been 'ere ever since, bad luck to 'im! And he's been a-cuttin' +down timber on the place whenever he's took a mind to, askin' no by- +your-leaves, and none of us 'adn't no right to say a wurrd, he bein' +master-like--but when it comes to the Five Sisters--why then we sez, +if the Five Sisters lay low there's an end of the pride and +prosperity of the village, an' Passon Walden he be main worrited +about it, for he do love trees like as they were his own brothers, +m'appen more'n brothers, for sometimes there's no love lost twixt +the likes o' they, and beggin' your pardon, Miss, he sent me to ye +with a message from hisself 'fore dinner, but you was a-lyin' down +and couldn't be disturbed nohow, so I goes down to Spruce"--here +Bainton indicated the silent Spruce with a jerk of his thumb--"he be +the forester 'ere, under Mr. Leach's orders, as deaf as a post +unless you 'ollers at him, but a good-meanin' man for all that--and +I sez, 'Spruce, you and me 'ull go an' fetch old Josey Letherbarrow, +and see if bein' the oldest 'n'abitant, as they sez in books, he +can't get a wurrd with Miss Vancourt, and so 'ere we be, Miss, for +the trees be chalked"--and he turned abruptly to Spruce and +bellowed--"Baint the trees chalked for comin' down to-morrow +marnin'? Speak fair!" + +Spruce heard, and at once gave a lucid statement. + +"By Mr. Leach's orders, Miss," he said, addressing Maryllia; "The +five old beech-trees on the knoll, which the village folk call the +'Five Sisters,' are to be felled to-morrow marnin'. They've stood, +so I'm told, an' so I b'lieve, two or three hundred years--" + +"And they're going to be cut down!" exclaimed Maryllia. "I never +heard of such wickedness! How disgraceful!" + +Spruce saw by the movement of her lips that she was speaking, and +therefore at once himself subsided into silence. Bainton again took +up the parable. + +"He's nigh stone-deaf, Miss, so you'll 'scuse him if he don't open +his mouth no more till we shouts at him--but what he sez is true +enough. At six o'clock to-morrow marnin'--" + +Here Primmins entered with the port wine. + +"Primmins, where does the agent, Leach, live?" enquired Maryllia. + +"I really couldn't say, Miss. I'll ask--" + +"'Tain't no use askin'," said Bainton; "He lives a mile out of the +village; but he ain't at 'ome nohow this evenin' bein' gone to +Riversford town for a bit o' gamblin' at cards. Lor', Miss, beggin' +yer pardon, gamblin' with the cards do get rid o' timber--it do +reely now!" + +Maryllia took a glass of port wine from the tray which Primmins +handed to her, and gave it herself to old Josey. Her mind had +entirely grasped the situation, despite the prolix nature of +Bainton's discourse. A group of historic old trees were to be felled +by the agent's orders at six o'clock the next morning unless she +prevented it. That was the sum total of the argument. And here was +something for her to do, and she resolved to do it. + +"Now, Josey," she said with a smile, "you must drink a glass of wine +to my health. And you also--and you!" and she nodded encouragingly +to Spruce and Bainton; "And be quite satisfied about the trees--they +shall not be touched." + +"God bless ye!" said Josey, drinking off his wine at a gulp; "And +long life t'ye and 'appiness to enjoy it!" + +Bainton, with a connoisseur's due appreciation of a good old brand, +sipped at his glass slowly, while Spruce, hastily swallowing his +measure of the cordial, wiped his mouth furtively with the back of +his hand, murmuring: "Your good 'elth, an' many of 'em!" + +"Wishin' ye long days o' peace an' plenty," said Bainton, between +his appreciative sips; "But as fur as the trees is consarned, +you'll'scuse me, Miss, for sayin' it, but the time bein' short, I +don't see 'ow it's goin' to be 'elped, Oliver Leach bein' away, and +no post delivered at his 'ouse till eight o'clock--" + +"I will settle all that," said Maryllia--"You must leave everything +to me. In the meantime,"--and she glanced at Spruce,--then +appealingly turned to Bainton,--"Will you try and make your friend +understand an order I want to give him? Or shall I ask Mrs. Spruce +to come and speak to him?" + +"Lord love ye, he'll be sharper to hear me than his wife, Miss, +beggin' yer pardon," said Bainton, with entire frankness. "He's too +accustomed to her jawin' an' wouldn't get a cleat impression like. +Spruce!" And he uplifted his voice in a roar that made the old +rafters of the hall ring. "Get ready to take Miss Vancourt's orders, +will ye?" + +Spruce was instantly on the alert, and put his hand to his ear. + +"Tell him, please," said Maryllia, still addressing Bainton, "that +he is to meet the agent as arranged at the appointed place to-morrow +morning; but that he is not to take any ropes or axes or any men +with him. He is simply to say that by Miss Vancourt's orders the +trees are not to be touched." + +These words Bainton dutifully bellowed into Spruce's semi-closed +organs of hearing. A look first of astonishment and then of fear +came over the simple fellow's face. + +"I'm afraid," he at last faltered, "that the lady does not know what +a hard man Mr. Leach is; he'll as good as kill me if I go there +alone to him!" + +"Lord love ye, man, you won't be alone!" roared Bainton,--"There's +plenty in the village 'ull take care o' that!" + +"Say to him," continued Maryllia steadily, noting the forester's +troubled countenance, "he must now remember that I am mistress here, +and that my orders, even if given at the last moment, are to be +obeyed." + +"That's it!" chuckled Josey Letherbarrow, knocking his stick on the +ground in a kind of ecstasy,--"That's it! Things ain't goin' to be +as they 'as been now the Squire's little gel is 'ome! That's it!" +And he nodded emphatically. "Give a reskil rope enough an' he'll +'ang hisself by the neck till he be dead, and the Lord ha' mercy on +his soul!" + +Maryllia smiled, watching all her three quaint visitors with a +sensation of mingled interest and whimsical amusement. + +"D'ye hear? You're to tell Leach," shouted Bainton, "that Miss +Vancourt is mistress 'ere, and her orders is to be obeyed at the +last moment! Which you might ha' understood without splittin' my +throat to tell ye, if ye had a little more sense, which, lackin', +'owever, can't be 'elped. What are ye afeard of, eh?" + +"Mr. Leach is a hard man," continued Spruce, anxiously glancing at +Maryllia; "He would lose me my place if he could--:" + +Maryllia heard, and privately decided that the person to lose his +place would be Leach himself. "It is quite exciting!" she thought; +"I was wondering a while ago what I should do to amuse myself in the +country, and here I am called upon at once to remedy wrongs and +settle village feuds! Nothing could be more novel and delightful!" +Aloud, she said,-- + +"None of the people who were in my father's service will lose their +places with me, unless for some very serious fault. Please"--and she +raised her eyes in pretty appeal to Bainton, "Please make everybody +understand that! Are you one of the foresters here?" + +Bainton shook his head. + +"No, Miss,--I'm the Passon's head man. I does all his gardening and +keeps a few flowers growin' in the churchyard. There's a rose +climbin' over the cross on the old Squire's grave what will do ye +good to see, come another fortnight of this warm weather. But +Passon, he be main worrited about the Five Sisters, and knowin' as +'ow I'd worked for the old Squire at 'arvest an,' sich-like, he +thought I might be able to 'splain to ye--" + +"I see!" said Maryllia, thoughtfully, surveying with renewed +interest the old-world figure of Josey Letherbarrow in his clean +smock-frock. "Now, how are you going to get Josey home again?" And a +smile irradiated her face. "Will you carry him along just as you +brought him?" + +"Why, yes, Miss--it'll be all goin' downhill now, and there's a moon, +and it'll be easy work. And if so be we're sure the Five Sisters +'ull be saved--" + +"You may be perfectly certain of it," said Maryllia interrupting him +with a little gesture of decision--"Only you must impress well on +Mr. Spruce here, that my orders are to be obeyed." + +"Beggin' yer pardon, Miss--what Spruce is afeard of is that Leach +may tell him he's a liar, and may jest refuse to obey. That's quite +on the cards, Miss--it is reely now!" + +"Oh, is it, indeed!" and Maryllia's eyes flashed with a sudden fire +that made them look brighter and deeper than ever and revealed a +depth of hidden character not lacking in self-will,--"Well, we shall +see! At any rate, I have given my orders, and I expect them to be +carried out! You understand!" + +"I do, Miss;" and Bainton touched his forelock respectfully; "An' +while we're joggin' easy downhill with Josey, I'll get it well +rubbed into Spruce. And, by yer leave, if you hain't no objection, +I'll tell Passon Walden that sich is your orders, and m'appen he'll +find a way of impressin' Leach straighter than we can." Maryllia +was not particularly disposed to have the parson brought into her +affairs, but she waived the query lightly aside. + +"You can do as you like about that," she said carelessly; "As the +parson is your master, you can of course tell him if you think he +will be interested. But I really don't see why he should be asked to +interfere. My orders are sufficient." + +A very decided ring of authority in the clear voice warned Bainton +that here was a lady who was not to be trifled with, or to be told +this or that, or to be put off from her intentions by any influence +whatsoever. He could not very well offer a reply, so he merely +touched his forelock again and was discreetly silent. Maryllia then +turned playfully to Josey Letherbarrow. + +"Now are you quite happy?" she asked. "Quite easy in your mind about +the trees?" + +"Thanks be to the Lord and you, God bless ye!" said Josey, piously; +"I'm sartin sure the Five Sisters 'ull wave their leaves in the +blessed wind long arter I'm laid under the turf and the daisies! +I'll sleep easy this night for knowin' it, and thank ye kindly and +all blessin' be with ye! And if I never sees ye no more--" + +"Now, Josey, don't talk nonsense!" said Maryllia, with a pretty +little air of protective remonstrance; "Such a clever old person as +you are ought to know better than to be morbid! 'Never see me no +more' indeed! Why I'm coming to see you soon,--very soon! I shall +find out where you live, and I shall pay you a visit! I'm a dreadful +talker! You shall tell me all about the village and the people in +it, and I'm sure I shall learn more from you in an hour than if I +studied the place by myself for a week! Shan't I?" + +Josey was decidedly flattered. The port wine had reddened his nose +and had given an extra twinkle to his eyes. + +"Well, I ain't goin' to deny but what I knows a thing or two--" he +began, with a sly glance at her. + +"Of course you do! Heaps of things! I shall coax them all out of +you! And now, good-night!--No!--don't get up!" for Josey was making +herculean efforts to rise from his chair again. "Just stay where you +are, and let them carry you carefully home. Good-night!" + +She gave a little salute which included all three of her rustic +visitors, and moved away. Passing under the heavily-carved arched +beams of oak which divided the hall from the rest of the house, she +turned her head backward over her shoulder with a smile. + +"Good-night, Ambassador Josey!" + +Josey waved his old hat energetically. + +"Good-night, my beauty! Good-night to Squire's gel! Good-night--" + +But before he could pile on any more epithets, she was gone, and the +butler Primmins stood in her place. + +"I'll help give you a lift down to the gates," he said, surveying +Josey with considerable interest; "You're a game old chap for your +age!" + +Josey was still waving his hat to the dark embrasure through which +Maryllia's white figure had vanished. + +"Ain't she a beauty? Ain't she jest a real Vancourt pride?" he +demanded excitedly; "Lord! We won't know ourselves in a month or +two! You marrk my wurrds, boys! See if what I say don't come true! +Leach may cheat the gallus, but he won't cheat them blue eyes, let +him try ever so! They'll be the Lord's arrows in his skin! You see +if they ain't!" + +Bainton here gave a signal to Spruce, and they hoisted up the +improvised carrying-chair between them, Primmins steadying it +behind. + +"There ain't goin' to be no layin' low of the Five Sisters!" Josey +continued with increasing shrillness and excitement as he was borne +out into the moonlit courtyard; "And there ain't goin' to be no +devil's work round the old Manor no more! Welcome 'ome to Squire's +gel! Welcome 'ome!" + +"Shut up, Josey!" said Bainton, though kindly enough--"You'll soon +part with all the breath you've got in yer body if ye makes a +screech owl of yerself like that in the night air! You's done enough +for once in a way,--keep easy an' quiet while we carries ye back to +the village--ye weighs a hundred pound 'eavier if ye're noisy,--ye +do reely now!" + +Thus adjured, Josey subsided into silence, and what with the joy he +felt at the success of his embassy, the warm still air, and the +soothing influence of the moonlight, he soon fell fast asleep, and +did not wake till he arrived at his own home in safety. Having +deposited him there, and seen to his comfort, Spruce and Bainton +left him to his night's rest, and held a brief colloquy outside his +cottage door. + +"I'm awful 'feard goin' to-morrow marnin' up to the Five Sisters +with ne'er a tool and ne'er a man,--Leach 'ull be that wild!" said +Spruce, his rubicund face paling at the very thought--"If I could +but 'ave 'ad written instructions, like!" + +"Why didn't you ask for 'em while you 'ad the chance?" demanded +Bainton testily; "It's too late now to bother your mind with what ye +might ha' done if ye'd had a bit of gumption. And it's too late for +me to be goin' and speakin' to Passon Walden. There's nothin' to be +done now till the marnin'!" + +"Nothin' to be done till the marnin'," echoed Spruce with a sigh, +catching these words by happy chance; "All the same, she's a fine +young lady, and 'er orders is to be obeyed. She ain't a bit like +what I expected her to be." + +"Nor she ain't what I bet she would be," said Bainton, heedless as +to whether his companion heard him or not; "I've lost 'arf a crown +to my old 'ooman, for I sez, sez I, 'She's bound to be a 'igh an' +mighty stuck-up sort o' miss wot won't never 'ave a wurrd for the +likes of we,' an' my old 'ooman she sez to me: 'Go 'long with ye for +a great silly gawk as ye are; I'll bet ye 'arf a crown she won't +be!' So I sez 'Done,'--an' done it is. For she's just as sweet as +clover in the spring, an' seems as gentle as a lamb,--though I +reckon she's got a will of 'er own and a mind to do what she likes, +when and 'ow she likes. I'll 'ave a fine bit o' talk with Passon +'bout her as soon as iver he gives me the chance." + +"Ay, good-night it is," observed Spruce, placidly taking all these +remarks as evening adieux,--"Yon moon's got 'igh, and it's time for +bed if so be we rises early. Easy rest ye!" + +Bainton nodded. It was all the response necessary. The two then +separated, going their different ways to their different homes, +Spruce having to get back to the Manor and a possible curtain- +lecture from his wife. All the village was soon asleep,--and eleven +o'clock rang from the church-tower over closed cottages in which not +a nicker of lamp or candle was to be seen. The moonbeams shed a +silver rain upon the outlines of the neatly thatched roofs and +barns--illumining with touches of radiance as from heaven, the +beautiful 'God's House' which dominated the whole cluster of humble +habitations. Everything was very quiet,--the little hive of humanity +had ceased buzzing; and the intense stillness was only broken by the +occasional murmur of a ripple breaking from the river against the +pebbly shore. + +Up at the Manor, however, the lights were not yet extinguished. +Maryllia, on the departure of 'Ambassador Josey' as she had called +him, and his two convoys, had sent for Mrs. Spruce and had gone very +closely with her into certain matters connected with Mr. Oliver +Leach. It had been difficult work,--for Mrs. Spruce's garrulity, +combined with her habit of wandering from the immediate point of +discussion, and her anxiety to avoid involving herself or her +husband in trouble, had created a chaotic confusion in her mind, +which somewhat interfered with the lucidity of her statements. +Little by little, however, Maryllia extracted a sufficient number of +facts from her hesitating and reluctant evidence to gain +considerable information on many points respecting the management of +her estate, and she began to feel that her return home was +providential and had been in a manner pre-ordained. She learned all +that Mrs. Spruce could tell her respecting the famous 'Five +Sisters'; how they were the grandest and most venerable trees in all +the country round--and how they stood all together on a grassy +eminence about a mile and a half from the Manor house and on the +Manor lands just beyond the more low-lying woods that spread +between. Whereupon Maryllia decided that she would take an early +ride over her property the next day,--and gave orders that her +favourite mare, 'Cleopatra,' ready saddled and bridled, should be +brought round to the door at five o'clock the next morning. This +being settled, and Mrs. Spruce having also humbly stated that all +the peacock's feathers she could find had been summarily cast forth +from the Manor through the medium of the parcels' post, Maryllia +bade her a kindly good-night. + +"To-morrow," she said, "we will go all over the house together, and +you will explain everything to me. But the first thing to be done is +to save those old trees." + +"Well, no one wouldn't 'ave saved 'em if so be as you 'adn't come +'ome, Miss," declared Mrs. Spruce. "For Mr. Leach he be a man of his +word, and as obs'nate as they makes 'em, which the Lord Almighty +knows men is all made as obs'nate as pigs--and he's been master over +the place like--" + +"More's the pity!" said Maryllia; "But he is master here no longer, +Spruce; I am now both mistress and master. Remember that, please!" + +Mrs. Spruce curtseyed dutifully and withdrew. The close cross- +examination she had undergone respecting Leach had convinced her of +two things,--firstly, that her new mistress, though such a +childlike-looking creature, was no fool,--and secondly, that though +she was perfectly gentle, kind, and even affectionate in her manner, +she evidently had a will of her own, which it seemed likely she +would enforce, if necessary, with considerable vigour and +imperativeness. And so the worthy old housekeeper decided that on +the whole it would be well to be careful--to mind one's P's and Q's +as it were,--to pause before rushing pell-mell into a flood of +unpremeditated speech, and to pay the strictest possible attention +to her regular duties. + +"Then m'appen we'll stay on in the old place," she considered; "But +if we doos those things which we ought not to have done, as they sez +in the prayer-book, we'll get the sack in no time, for all that she +looks so smilin' and girlie-like." + +And so profound were her cogitations on this point that she actually +forgot to give her husband the sound rating she had prepared for him +concerning the part he had taken in bringing Josey Letherbarrow up +to the Manor. Returning from the village in some trepidation, that +harmless man was allowed to go to bed and sleep in peace, with no +more than a reminder shrilled into his ears to be 'up with the dawn, +as Miss Maryllia would be about early.' + +Maryllia herself, meanwhile, quite unconscious that her small +personality had made any marked or tremendous effect upon her +domestics, retired to rest in happy mood. She was glad to be in her +own home, and still more glad to find herself needed there. + +"I've been an absolutely useless creature up till now," she said, +shaking down her hair, after the maid Nancy had disrobed her and +left her for the night. "The fact is, there never was a more utterly +idle and nonsensical creature in the world than I am! I've done +nothing but dress and curl my hair, and polish my face, and dance, +and flirt and frivol the time away. Now, if I only am able to save +five historical old trees, I shall have done something useful;-- +something more than half the women I know would ever take the +trouble to do. For, of course, I suppose I shall have a row,--or as +Aunt Emily would say 'words,'--with the agent. All the better! I +love a fight,--especially with a man who thinks himself wiser than I +am! That is where men are so ridiculous,--they always think +themselves wiser than women, even though some of them can't earn +their own living except through a woman's means. Lots of men will +take a woman's money, and sneer at her while spending it! I know +them!" And she nestled into her bed, with a little cosy cuddling +movement of her soft white shoulders; "'Take all and give nothing!' +is the motto of modern manhood;--I don't admire it,--I don't endorse +it; I never shall! The true motto of love and chivalry should be +'Give all--take nothing'!" + +Midnight chimed from the courtyard turret. She listened to the +mellow clang with a sense of pleased comfort and security. + +"Many people would think of ghosts and all sorts of uncanny things +in an old, old house like this at midnight;" she thought; "But +somehow I don't believe there are any ghosts here. At any rate, not +unpleasant ones;--only dear and loving 'home' ghosts, who will do me +no harm!" + +She soon sank into a restful slumber, and the moonlight poured in +through the old latticed windows, forming a delicate tracery of +silver across the faded rose silken coverlet of the bed, and showing +the fair face, half in light, half in shade, that rested against the +pillow, with the unbound hair scattered loosely on either side of +it, like a white lily between two leaves of gold. And as the hours +wore on, and the silence grew more intense, the slow and somewhat +rusty pendulum of the clock in the tower could just be heard faintly +ticking its way on towards the figures of the dawn. "Give all--take +nothing--Give--all--take--no--thing!" it seemed to say;--the motto +of love and the code of chivalry, according to Maryllia. + + + + +X + + +A thin silver-grey mist floating delicately above the river Rest and +dispersing itself in light wreaths across the flowering banks and +fields, announced the breaking of the dawn,--and John Walden, who +had passed a restless night, threw open his bedroom window widely, +with a sense of relief that at last the time had come again for +movement and action. His blood was warm and tingling with suppressed +excitement,--he was ready for a fight, and felt disposed to enjoy +it. His message to Miss Vancourt had apparently failed,--for on the +previous evening Bainton had sent round word to say that he had been +unable to see the lady before dinner, but that he was going to try +again later on. No result of this second attempt had been +forthcoming, so Walden concluded that his gardener had received a +possibly curt and complete rebuff from the new 'Squire-ess,' and had +been too much disheartened by his failure to come and report it. + +"Never mind!--we'll have a tussle for the trees!" said John to +himself, as after his cold tubbing he swung his dumb-bells to and +fro with the athletic lightness and grace of long practice; "If the +villagers are prepared to contest Leach's right to destroy the Five +Sisters, I'll back them up in it! I will! And I'll speak my mind to +Miss Vancourt too! She is no doubt as apathetic and indifferent to +sentiment as all her 'set,' but if I can prick her through her +pachydermatous society skin, I'll do it!" + +Having got himself into a great heat and glow with this mental +resolve and his physical exertions combined, he hastily donned his +clothes, took his stoutest walking-stick, and sallied forth into the +cool dim air of the as yet undeclared morning, the faithful Nebbie +accompanying him. Scarcely, however, had he shut his garden gate +behind him when Bainton confronted him. + +"Marnin', Passon!" + +"Oh, there you are!" said Walden--"Well, now what's going to be +done?" + +"Nothin's goin' to be done;" rejoined Bainton stolidly, with his +usual inscrutable smile; "Unless m'appen Spruce is 'avin' every bone +broke in his body 'fore we gets there. Ye see, he ain't got no +written orders like,--and mebbe Leach 'ull tell him he's a liar and +that Miss Vancourt's instructions is all my eye!" + +"Miss Vancourt's instructions?" echoed Walden; "Has she given any?" + +"Of coorse she has!" replied Bainton, triumphantly; "Which is that +the trees is not to be touched on no account. And she's told Spruce, +through me,--which I bellowed it all into his ear,--to go and meet +Leach this marnin' up by the Five Sisters and give him 'er message +straight from the shoulder!" + +Walden's face cleared and brightened visibly. + +"I'm glad--I'm very glad!" he said; "I hardly thought she could +sanction such an outrage--but, tell me, how did you manage to give +her my message?" + +"'Tworn't your message at all, Passon, don't you think it!" said +Bainton; "You ain't got so fur as that. She's not the sort o' lady +to take a message from no one, whether passon, pope or emp'rur. Not +she! It was old Josey Letherbarrow as done it." And he related the +incidents of the past evening in a style peculiar to himself, laying +considerable weight on his own remarkable intelligence and foresight +in having secured the 'oldest 'n'abitant' of the village to act as +representative and ambassador for the majority. + +Walden listened with keen interest. + +"Yes,--Leach is likely to be quarrelsome," he said, at its +conclusion; "There's no doubt about that. We mustn't leave Spruce to +bear the brunt of his black rage all alone. Come along, Bainton!--I +will enforce Miss Vancourt's orders myself if necessary." + +This was just what Bainton wanted,--and master and man started off +at a swinging pace for the scene of action, Bainton pouring forth as +he went a glowing description of the wonderful and unexpected charm +of the new mistress of the Manor. + +"There ain't been nothin' like her in our neighbourhood iver at all, +so fur as I can remember," he declared. "A' coorse I must ha' seed +her when I worked for th' owld Squire at whiles, but she was a child +then, an' I ain't a good hand at rememberin' like Josey be, besides +I never takes much 'count of childern runnin' round. But 'ere was we +all a-thinkin' she'd be a 'igh an' mighty fashion-plate, and she +ain't nothin' of the sort, onny jest like a little sugar figure on, +a weddin'-cake wot looks sweet at ye and smiles pleasant,--though +she's got a flash in them eyes of her which minds me of a pony wot +ain't altogether broke in. Josey, he sez them eyes is a-goin' to +finish up Leach,--which mebbe they will and mebbe they won't;--all +the same they's eyes you won't see twice in a lifetime! Lord love +ye, Passon, ain't it strange 'ow the Almighty puts eyes in the 'eads +of women wot ain't a bit like wot he puts in the 'eads of men! We +gets the sight all right, but somehow we misses the beauty. An' +there's plenty of women wot has eyes correct in stock and colour, as +we sez of the flowers,--but they're like p'ison berries, shinin' an' +black an' false-like,--an' if ye touch 'em ye're a dead man. +Howsomever when ye sees eyes like them that was smilin' at old Josey +last night, why it's jest a wonderful thing; and it don't make me +s'prised no more at the Penny Poltry-books wot's got such a lot +about blue eyes in 'em. Blue's the colour--there's no doubt about +it;--there ain't no eye to beat a blue one!" + +Walden heard all this disjointed talk with a certain impatience. +Swinging along at a rapid stride, and glad in a sense that the old +trees were to be saved, he was nevertheless conscious of annoyance,- +-though by whom, or at what he was annoyed, he could not have told. +Plunging into the dewy woods, with all the pungent odours of moss +and violets about his feet, he walked swiftly on, Bainton having +some difficulty to keep up with him. The wakening birds were +beginning to pipe their earliest carols; gorgeously-winged insects, +shaken by the passing of human footsteps from their slumbers in the +cups of flowers, soared into the air like jewels suddenly loosened +from the floating robes of Aurora,--and the gentle stir of rousing +life sent a pulsing wave through the long grass. Every now and again +Bainton glanced up at the 'Passon's' face and murmured under his +breath,--'Blue's the colour--there ain't nowt to beat it!' possibly +inspired thereto by the very decided blue sparkle in the eyes of the +'man of God' who was marching steadily along in the 'Onward +Christian Soldiers' style, with his shoulders well back, his head +well poised, and his whole bearing expressive of both decision and +command. + +Out of the woods they passed into an open clearing, where the +meadows, tenderly green and wet with dew, sloped upwards into small +hillocks, sinking again into deep dingles, adorned with may-trees +that were showing their white buds like little pellets of snow among +the green, and where numerous clusters of blackthorn spread out +lovely lavish tangles of blossom as fine as shreds of bleached wool +or thread-lace upon its jet-like stems. Across these fields dotted +with opening buttercups and daisies, Walden and his 'head man about +the place' made quick way, and climbing the highest portion of the +rising ground just in front of them, arrived at a wide stretch of +peaceful pastoral landscape comprising a fine view of the river in +all its devious windings through fields and pastures, overhung at +many corners with ancient willows, and clasping the village of St. +Rest round about as with a girdle of silver and blue. Here on a +slight eminence stood the venerable sentinels of the fair scene,-- +the glorious old 'Five Sisters' beeches which on this very morning +had been doomed to bid farewell for ever to the kind sky. Noble +creatures were they in their splendid girth and broadly-stretching +branches, which were now all alive with the palest and prettiest +young green,--and as Walden sprang up the thyme-scented turfy ascent +which lifted them proudly above all their compeers, his heart beat +with mingled indignation and gladness,--indignation that such grand +creations of a bountiful Providence should ever have been so much as +threatened with annihilation by a destructive, ill-conditioned human +pigmy like Oliver Leach,--and gladness, that at the last moment +their safety was assured through the intervention of old Josey +Letherbarrow. For, of course Miss Vancourt herself would never have +troubled about them. Walden made himself inwardly positive on that +score. She could have no particular care or taste for trees, John +thought. It was the pathetic pleading of Josey,--his quaint +appearance, his extreme age--and his touching feebleness, which +taken all together had softened the callous heart of the mistress of +the Manor, and had persuaded her to stay the intended outrage. + +"If Josey had asked her to spare a gooseberry bush, she would +probably have consented," said Walden to himself; "He is so old and +frail,--she could hardly have refused his appeal without seeming to +be almost inhuman." + +Here his reflections were abruptly terminated by a clamour of angry +voices, and hastening his steps up the knoll, he there confronted a +group of rough rustic lads gathered in a defensive half-circle round +Spruce who, white and breathless, was bleeding profusely from a deep +cut across his forehead. Opposite him stood Oliver Leach, livid with +rage, grasping a heavy dog-whip. + +"You damned, deaf liar!" he shouted; "Do you think I'm going to take +YOUR word? How dare you disobey my orders! I'll have you kicked off +the place, you and your loud-tongued wife and the whole kit of you! +What d'ye mean by bringing these louts up from the village to bull- +bait me, eh? What d'ye mean by it? I'll have you all locked up in +Riversford jail before the day's much older! You whining cur!" And +he raised his whip threateningly. "I've given you one, and I'll give +you another--" + +"Noa, ye woan't!" said a huge, raw-boned lad, standing out from the +rest. "You woan't strike 'im no more, if ye wants a hull skin! Me +an' my mates 'ull take care o' that! You go whoam, Mister Leach!-- +you go whoam!--you've 'eerd plain as the trees is to be left +stannin'--them's the orders of the new Missis,--and you ain't no +call to be swearin' yerself black in the face, 'cos you can't get +yer own way for once. You're none so prutty lookin' that we woan't +know 'ow to make ye a bit pruttier if ye stays 'ere enny longer!" + +And he grinned suggestively, doubling a portentous fist, and +beginning to roll up his shirt sleeves slowly with an ominous air of +business. + +Leach looked at the group of threatening faces, and pulled from his +pocket a notebook and pencil. + +"I know you all, and I shall take down your names," he said, with +vindictive sharpness, though his lips trembled--"You, Spruce, are +under my authority, and you have deliberately disobeyed my orders--" + +"And you, Leach, are under Miss Vancourt's authority and you are +deliberately refusing to obey your employer's orders!" said Walden, +suddenly emerging from the shadow east by one of the great trees, +"And you have assaulted and wounded Spruce who brought you those +orders. Shame on you, man! Riversford jail is more likely to receive +YOU as a tenant than any of these lads!" Here he turned to the young +men who on seeing their minister had somewhat sheepishly retreated, +lifting their caps and trampling backward on each other's toes; "Go +home, boys," he said peremptorily, yet kindly; "There's nothing for +you to do here. Go home to your breakfasts and your work. The trees +won't be touched--" + +"Oh, won't they!" sneered Leach, now perfectly white with passion; +"Who's going to pay me for the breaking of my contract, I should +like to know? The trees are sold--they were sold as they stand a +fortnight ago,--and down they come to-day, orders or no orders; I'll +have my own men up here at work in less than an hour!" + +Walden turned upon him. + +"Very well then, I shall ask Miss Vancourt to set the police to +watch her trees and take you into custody;" he said, coolly; "If you +have sold the trees standing, to cover your gambling debts, you will +have to UNsell them, that's all! They never were yours to dispose +of;--you can no more sell them than you can sell the Manor. You have +no permission to make money for yourself out of other people's +property. That kind of thing is common thieving, though it MAY +sometimes pass for Estate Agency business!" + +Leach sprang forward, his whip uplifted,--but before it could fall, +with one unanimous yell, the young rustics rushed upon him and +wrested it from his hand. At this moment Bainton, who had been +silently binding Spruce's cut forehead with a red cotton +handkerchief, so that the poor man presented the appearance of a +melodramatic 'stage' warrior, suddenly looked up, uttered an +exclamation, and gave a warning signal. + +"Better not go on wi' the hargyment jes' now, Passon!" he said,-- +"'Ere comes the humpire!" + +Even as he spoke, the quick gallop of hoofs echoed thuddingly on the +velvety turf, and the group of disputants hastily scattered to right +and left, as a magnificent mare, wild-eyed and glossy-coated, dashed +into their centre and came to a swift halt, drawn up in an instant +by the touch of her rider on the rein. All eyes were turned to the +slight woman's figure in the saddle, that sat so easily, that swayed +the reins so lightly, and that seemed as it were, throned high above +them in queenly superiority--a figure wholly unconventional, clad in +a riding-skirt and jacket of a deep soft violet hue, and wearing no +hat to shield the bright hair from the fresh wind that waved its +fair ripples to and fro caressingly and tossed a shining curl loose +from the carelessly twisted braid. Murmurs of 'The new Missis!' 'Th' +owld Squire's darter!'--ran from mouth to mouth, and John Walden, +seized by a sudden embarrassment, withdrew as far as possible into +the shadow of the trees in a kind of nervous hope to escape from the +young lady's decidedly haughty glance, which swept like a flash of +light, round the assembled group and settled at last with chill +scrutiny on the livid and breathless Oliver Leach. + +"You are the agent here, I presume?" + +Maryllia's voice rang cold and clear,--there was not a trace of the +sweet and coaxing tone in it that had warmed the heart of old Josey +Letherbarrow. + +Leach looked up, lifting his cap half reluctantly. + +"I am!" + +"You have had my orders?" + +Leach was silent. The young rustics hustled one another forward, +moved by strong excitement, all eager to see the feminine 'Humpire' +who had descended upon them as suddenly as a vision falling from the +skies, and all wondering what would happen next. + +"You have had my orders?" repeated Maryllia;--then, as no answer was +vouchsafed to her, she looked round and perceived Bainton. To him +she at once addressed herself. + +"Who has struck Spruce?" + +Bainton hesitated. It was an exceedingly awkward position. He looked +appealingly, as was his wont, up into the air and among the highest +branches of the 'Five Sisters' for 'Passon Walden,' but naturally +could not discover him at that elevation. + +"Come, come!" said Maryllia, imperatively--"You are not all deaf, I +hope! Give me a straight answer, one of you! Who struck Spruce?" + +"Mister Leach did!" said the big-boned lad who had constituted +himself Spruce's defender. "We 'eerd down in the village as 'ow +you'd come 'ome, Miss, and as 'ow you'd give your orders that the +Five Sisters was to be left stannin', and we coomed up wi' Spruce to +see 'ow Leach 'ud take it, an' 'fore we could say a wurrd Leach he +up wi' his whip and cut Spruce across the for'ead as ye see--" + +Maryllia raised her hand and silenced him with a gesture. "Thank +you! That will do. I understand!" She turned towards Leach; "What +have you to say for yourself?" "I take no orders from a servant," +replied Leach, insolently; "I have managed this estate for ten +years, and I give in my statements and receive my instructions from +the firm of solicitors who have it in charge. I am not called upon +to accept any different arrangement without proper notice." + +Maryllia heard him out with coldly attentive patience. + +"You will accept a different arrangement without any further notice +at all," she said; "You will leave the premises and resign all +management of my property from this day henceforward. I dismiss you, +for disobedience and insolence, and for assaulting my servant, +Spruce, in the execution of his duty. And as for these trees, if any +man touches a bough of one of them without my permission, I will +have him prosecuted! Now you know my mind!". + +She sat proudly erect in her saddle, while the village hobbledehoys +who had instinctively gathered round her, like steel shavings round +a magnet, fairly gasped for breath. Oliver Leach dismissed! Oliver +Leach, the petty tyrant, the carping, snarling jack-in-office, cast +out like a handful of bad rubbish! It was like a thunderbolt fallen +from heaven and riving the earth on which they stood! Bainton heard, +and could scarcely keep back a chuckle of satisfaction. He longed to +make Spruce understand what was going on, but that unfortunate +individual was slightly stunned by Leach's heavy blow, and sitting +on the grass with his head between his two hands, was gazing, in a +kind of stupefaction at the 'new Missis'; so that any 'bellowing' +into his ear was scarcely possible. + +Leach himself stared blankly and incredulously,--his face crimsoned +with a sudden rush of enraged blood and then paled again, and +changing his former insolent tone for one both fawning and +propitiatory, he stammered out: + +"I am very sorry--I--I beg your pardon, Madam!--if you will give +yourself a little time to consider, you will see I have done my duty +on this property all the time I have been connected with it. I hope +you will not dismiss me for the first fault!--I--I--admit I should +not have struck Spruce,--but--I--I was taken by surprise--I--I know +my business,--and I am not accustomed to be interfered with--" Here +his pent-up anger got the better of him and he again began to +bluster. "I have done my duty--no man better!" he said in fierce +accents. "There's not an acre of woodland here that isn't in a +better condition than it was ten years ago--Ah!--and bringing in +more money too!--and now I am to be turned off for a parcel of +village idiots who hardly know a beech from an elm! I'll make a case +of it! Sir Morton Pippitt knows me--I'll speak to Sir Morton +Pippitt--" + +"Sir Morton Pippitt!" echoed Maryllia disdainfully; "What has he to +do with me or my property?" Here she suddenly spied Walden, who, in +his eagerness to hear every word that passed had, unconsciously to +himself, moved well out of the sheltering shadow of the trees--"Are +YOU Sir Morton Pippitt?" + +A broad grin, deepening into a scarcely suppressed titter, Went the +round of the gaping young rustics. Walden himself smiled,--and +recognising that the time had now come to declare himself, he +advanced a step or two and lifted his hat. + +"I have not that pleasure! I am the minister of this parish, and my +name is John Walden. I'm afraid I am rather a trespasser here!--but +I have loved these old trees for many years, and I came up this +morning,--having heard what your orders were from my gardener +Bainton,--to see that those orders were properly carried out,--and +also to save possible disturbance--" + +He broke off. Maryllia, while he spoke, had eyed him somewhat +critically, and now favoured him with a charming smile. + +"Thank you very much!" she said sweetly; "It was most kind of you! I +wonder--" And she paused, knitting her pretty brows in perplexity; +"I wonder if you could get rid of everybody for me?" + +He glanced up at her in a little wonderment. + +"Could you?" she repeated. + +He drew nearer. + +"Get rid of everybody?--you mean?--" + +She leaned confidentially from her saddle. + +"Yes--YOU know! Send them all about their business! Clergymen can +always do that, can't they? There's really nothing more to be said +or done--the trees shall not be touched,--the matter is finished. +Tell all these big boys to go away--and--oh, YOU know!" + +A twinkle of merriment danced in Walden's eyes. But he turned quite +a set and serious face round on the magnetised lads of the village, +who hung about, loth to lose a single glance or a single word of the +wonderful 'Missis' who had the audacious courage to dismiss Leach. + +"Now, boys!" he said peremptorily; "Clear away home and begin your +day's work! You're not wanted here any longer. The trees are safe,-- +and you can tell everyone what Miss Vancourt says about them. +Bainton! You take these fellows home,--Spruce had better go with +you. Just call at the doctor's on the way and get his wound attended +to. Come now, boys!--sharp's the word!" + +A general scrambling movement followed this brief exordium. With shy +awkwardness each young fellow lifted his cap as he shambled +sheepishly past Maryllia, who acknowledged these salutes smilingly,- +-Bainton assisted Spruce to rise to his feet, and then took him off +under his personal escort,--and only Leach remained, convulsively +gripping his dog-whip which he had picked up from the ground where +the lads had thrown it,--and anon striking it against his boot with +a movement of impatience and irritation. + +"GOOD-morning, Mr. Leach!" said Walden pointedly. But Leach stood +still, looking askance at Maryllia. + +"Miss Vancourt," he said, hoarsely; "Am I to understand that you +meant what you said just now?" + +She glanced at him coldly. + +"That I dismiss you from my service? Of course I meant it! Of course +I mean it!" + +"I am bound to have fair notice," he muttered. "I cannot collect all +my accounts in a moment--" + +"Whatever else you may do, you will leave this place at, once;" said +Maryllia, firmly,--"I will communicate my decision to the solicitors +and they will settle with you. No more words, please!" + +She turned her mare slowly round on the grassy knoll, looking up +meanwhile at the lovely canopy of tremulous young green above her +head. John Walden watched her. So did Oliver Leach,--and with a +sudden oath, rapped out like a discordant bomb bursting in the still +air, he exclaimed savagely: + +"You shall repent this, my fine lady! By God, you shall! You shall +rue the day you ever saw Abbot's Manor again! You had far better +have stayed with your rich Yankee relations than have made such a +home-coming as this for yourself, and such an outgoing for me! My +curse on you!" + +Shaking his fist threateningly at her, he sprang down the knoll, and +plunging through the grass and fern was soon lost to sight. + +The soft colour in Maryllia's cheeks paled a little and a slight +tremor ran through her frame. She looked at Walden,--then laughed +carelessly. + +"Guess I've given him fits!" she said, relapsing into one of her +Aunt Emily's American colloquialisms, with happy unconsciousness +that this particular phrase coming from her pretty lips sent a kind +of shock through John's sensitive nerves. "He's not a very pleasant +man to meet anyway! And it isn't altogether agreeable to be cursed +on the first morning of my return home. But, after all, it doesn't +matter much, as there's a clergyman present!" And her blue eyes. +danced mischievously; "Isn't it lucky you came? You can stop that +curse on its way and send it back like a homing pigeon, can't you? +What do you say when you do it? 'Retro me Sathanas,' or something of +that kind, isn't it? Whatever it is, say it now, won't you?" + +Walden laughed,--he could not help laughing. She spoke, with such a +whimsical flippancy, and she looked so bewitchingly pretty. + +"Really, Miss Vancourt, I don't think I need utter any special +formula on this occasion," he said, gaily. "You have done a good +action to the whole community by dismissing Leach. Good actions +bring their own reward, while curses, like chickens, come home to +roost. Pray forgive me for quoting copybook maxims! But, for the +curse of one ill-conditioned boor, you will have the thanks and +blessings of all your tenantry. That will take the edge of the +malediction; don't you think so?" + +She turned her mare in the homeward direction, and began to guide it +gently down the slope. Walking by her side, John held back one of +the vast leafy boughs of the great trees to allow her to pass more +easily, and glanced up at her smilingly as he put his question. + +She met his eyes with an open frankness that somewhat disconcerted +him. + +"Well, I don't know about that!" she replied. "You see, in these +days of telepathy and hypnotic suggestion, there may be something +very catching about a curse. It's just like a little seed of +disease;--if it falls on the right soil it germinates and spreads, +and then all manner of wicked souls get the infection. I believe +that in the old days everybody guessed this instinctively, without +being able to express it scientifically,--and that's why they ran to +the Church for protection agaiast curses, and the evil eye, and +things of that sort. See how some of the old Scottish curses cling +even to this day! The only way to take the sting out of a curse is +to get it transposed"--and she smiled, glancing meditatively up into +the brightening blue of the sky. "Like a song, you know! If it's too +low for the voice you transpose it to a higher key. I daresay the +Church was able to do that in the days when it had REAL faith--oh!-- +I beg your pardon!--I ought not to say that to a man of your +calling." + +"Why not?" said Walden; "Pray say anything you like to me, Miss +Vancourt;--I should be a very poor and unsatisfactory sort of +creature if I could not bear any criticism on my vocation. Besides, +I quite agree with you. The early Church had certainly more faith +than it has now." + +"You're not a bit like a parson," said Maryllia gravely, studying +his face with embarrassing candour and closeness; "You look quite a +nice pleasant sort of man." + +John Walden laughed again,--this time with sincere heartiness. +Maryllia's eyes twinkled, and little dimples came and went round her +mouth and chin. + +"You seem amused at that," she said; "But I've seen a great deal of +life--and I have met heaps and heaps of parsons--parsons young and +parsons old--and they were all horrid, simply horrid! Some talked +Bible--and others talked the Sporting Times--any amount of them +talked the drama, and played villains in private theatricals. I +never met but one real minister,--that is a man who ministers to the +poor,--and he died in a London slum before he was thirty. I believe +he was a saint; and if he had lived in the days of the early Church, +he would certainly have been canonised. He would have been Saint +William--his name was William. But he was only one William,--I've +seen hundreds of them." + +"Hundreds of Williams?" queried Walden suggestively. + +This time it was Maryllia who laughed,--a gay little laugh like that +of a child. + +"No, I guess not!" she answered; "Some of them are real Johnnies! Oh +dear me!"--and again her laughter broke forth; "I quite forgot! You +said YOUR name was John!" + +"So it is." And he smiled; "I'm sorry you don't like it!" + +She checked her merriment abruptly, and became suddenly serious. + +"But I do like it! You mustn't think I don't. Oh, how rude I must +seem to you! Please forgive me! I really do like the name of John!" + +He glanced up at her, still smiling. + +"Thank you! It's very kind of you to say so!" + +"You believe me, don't you?" she said persistently. + +"Of course I do! Of course I must! Though unhappily a Churchman, I +am not altogether a heretic.'" + +The smile deepened in his eyes,--and as she met his somewhat +quizzical glance a slight wave of colour rose to her cheeks and +brow. She drew herself up in her saddle with a sudden, proud +movement and carried her little head a trifle higher. Walden looked +at her now as he would have looked at a charming picture, without +the least embarrassment. She appeared so extremely young to him. She +awakened in his mind a feeling of kindly paternal interest, such as +he might have felt for Susie Prescott or Ipsie Frost. He was not +even quite sure that he considered her in any way out of the common, +so far as her beauty was concerned,--though he recognised that she +was almost the living image of 'the lady in the vi'let velvet' whose +portrait adorned the gallery in Abbot's Manor. The resemblance was +heightened by the violet colour of the riding dress she wore and the +absence of any head-covering save her own pretty brown-gold hair. + +"I'm glad I've saved the old trees," she said presently, checking +her mare's pace, and looking back at the Five Sisters standing in +unmolested grandeur on their grassy throne. "I feel a pleasant +consciousness of having done something useful. They are beautiful! I +haven't looked at them half enough. I shall come here all by myself +this afternoon and bring a book and read under their lovely boughs. +Just now I've only had time to cry 'rescue.'" She hesitated a +moment, then added:" I'm very much obliged to you for your +assistance, Mr. Walden!--and I'm glad you also like the trees. They +shall never be touched in my lifetime, I assure you I--and I +believe--yes, I believe I'll put something in my last will and +testament about them--something binding, you know! Something that +will set up a block in the way of land agents. Such trees as these +ought to stand as long as Nature will allow them." + +Walden was silent. Somehow her tone had changed from kind +playfulness to ordinary formality, and her eyes rested upon him with +a cool, slightly depreciatory expression. The mare was restless, and +pawed the green turf impatiently. + +"She longs for a gallop;" said Maryllia, patting the fine creature's +glossy neck; "Don't you, Cleo? Her name is Cleopatra, Queen of +Egypt. Isn't she a beauty?" + +"She is indeed!" murmured Walden, with conventional politeness, +though he scarcely glanced at the eulogised animal. + +"She isn't a bit safe, you know," continued Maryllia; "Nobody can +hold her but me! She's a perfectly magnificent hunter. I have +another one who is gentleness itself, called Daffodil. My groom +rides her. He could never ride Cleo." She paused, patting the mare's +neck again,--then gathering up the reins in her small, loosely- +gloved hand, she said: "Well, good-morning, Mr. Walden! It was most +kind of you to get up so early and come to help defend my trees! I +am ever so grateful to you! Pray call and see me at the Manor when +you have nothing better to do. You will be very welcome!" + +She nodded gracefully to him, and a few loose curls of lovely hair +fell with the action like a web of sunbeams over her brow. Smiling, +she tossed them back. + +"Good-bye!" she called. + +He raised his hat,--and in another moment the gallop of Cleopatra's +swift hoofs thudded across the grass and echoed over the fields, +gradually diminishing and dying away, as mare and rider disappeared +within the enfolding green of the Manor woods. He stood for a while +looking after the vanishing flash of violet, brown and gold, +scudding over the turf and disappearing under the closely twisted +boughs of budding oak and elm,--and then started to walk home +himself. His face was a study of curiously mingled expressions. +Surprise, amusement, and a touch of admiration struggled for the +mastery in his mind, and he was compelled to admit to himself, +albeit reluctantly, that the doubtfully-anticipated 'Squire-ess' was +by no means the sort of person he had expected to see. Herein he was +at one with Bainton. + +"'Like a little sugar figure on a wedding-cake, looking sweet, and +smiling pleasant!'" thought Walden, humorously recalling his +gardener's description; "Scarcely that! She has a will of her own, +and--possibly--a temper! A kind of spoilt child-woman, I should +imagine; just the person to wear all the fripperies Mrs. Spruce was +so anxious about the other day, and quite frivolous enough to +squeeze her feet into shoes a couple of sizes too small for her. +Beautiful? No,--her features are not regular enough for actual +beauty. Pretty? Well,--perhaps she is!--in a certain sense,--but I'm +no judge. Fascinating? Possibly she might be--to some men. She +certainly has a sweet voice, and a very charming manner. And I don't +think she is likely to be disagreeable or discourteous. But there is +nothing remarkable about her--she's just a woman--with a bright +smile,--and a touch of American vivacity running through her English +insularity. Just a woman--with a way!" + +And he strode on, his terrier trotting soberly at his heels. But he +was on the whole glad he had met the lady of the Manor, because now +he no longer felt any uneasiness concerning her. His curiosity was +satisfied,--his instinctive dislike of her had changed to a kindly +toleration, and his somewhat morbid interest in her arrival had +quite abated. The 'Five Sisters' were saved--that was a good thing; +and as for Miss Vancourt herself,--well!--she was evidently a +harmless creature who would most likely play tennis and croquet all +day and take very little interest in anything except herself. + +"She will not interfere with me, nor I with her," said Walden with a +sigh of satisfaction and relief; "And though we live in the same +village, we shall be as far apart as the poles,--which is a great +comfort'" + + + + +XI + + +Meanwhile, Maryllia cantered home through the woods in complacent +and lively humour. The first few hours of her return to the home of +her forefathers had certainly not been lacking in interest and +excitement. She had heard and granted a village appeal,--she had +stopped an act of vandalism,--she had saved five of the noblest +trees in England,--she had conquered the hearts of several village +yokels,--she had thrust a tyrant out of office,--she had been cursed +by the said tyrant, a circumstance which was, to say the very least +of it, quite new to her experience and almost dramatic,--and,--she +had 'made eyes' at a parson! Surely this was enough adventure for +one morning, especially as it was not yet eight o'clock. The whole +day had yet to come; possibly she might be involved later on in +still more thrilling and sensational episodes,--who could tell! She +carolled a song for pure gaiety of heart, and told the rustling +leaves and opening flowers in very charmingly pronounced French that + +"Votre coeur a beau se defendre De s'enflammer,--Le moment vient, il +faut se rendre, Il faut aimer!" + +Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt, curveted and pranced daintily at every +check imposed on her rein, as became an equine royalty,--she was +conscious of the elastic turf under her hoofs, and glad of the fresh +pure air in her nostrils,--and her mistress shared with her the +sense of freedom and buoyancy which an open country and fair +landscape must naturally inspire in those to whom life is a daily +and abounding vigorous delight, not a mere sickly brooding over the +past, or a morbid anticipation of the future. The woods surrounding +Abbot's Manor were by no means depressing,--they were not dark +silent vistas of solemn pine, leading into deeper and deeper gloom, +but cheery and picturesque clumps of elm and beech and oak, at +constant intervals with hazel-copse, hawthorn and eglantine,--true +English woods, suggestive of delicate romance and poesy, and made +magical by the songs of birds, whose silver-throated melodies are +never heard to sweeter advantage than under the leafy boughs of such +unspoilt green lanes and dells as yet remain to make the charm and +glamour of rural England. Primroses peeped out in smiling clusters +from every mossy nook, and the pale purple of a myriad violets +spread a wave of soft colour among the last year's fallen leaves, +which had served good purpose in keeping the tender buds warm till +Spring should lift them from their earth-cradles into full-grown +blossom. Maryllia's bright eyes, glancing here and there, saw and +noted a thousand beauties at every turn,--the chains of social +convention and ordinance had fallen from her soul, and a joyous +pulse of freedom quickened her blood and sent it dancing through her +veins in currents of new exhilaration and vitality. With her multi- +millionaire aunt, she had lived a life of artificial constraint, +against which, despite its worldly brilliancy, her inmost and best +instincts had always more or less rebelled;--now,--finding herself +alone, as it were, with Mother Nature, she sprang like a child to +that great maternal bosom, and nestled there with a sense of glad +refreshment and peace. + +"What dear wildflowers!" she murmured now, as restraining +Cleopatra's coquettish gambols, she rode more slowly along, and +spied the bluebells standing up among tangles of green, making +exquisite contrast with the golden glow of aconites and the fragile +white of wood-anemones,--"They are ever so much prettier than the +hot-house things one gets any day in Paris and London! Big forced +roses,--great lolling, sickly-scented lilies, and orchids--oh dear! +how tired I am of orchids! Every evening a bouquet of orchids for +five weeks--Sundays NOT excepted,--shall I ever forget the +detestable 'rare specimens'!" + +A little frown puckered her brow, and for a moment the lines of her +pretty mouth drooped and pouted with a quaintly petulant expression, +like that of a child going to cry. + +"It was complete persecution!" she went on, crooning her complaints +to herself and patting Cleopatra's arched neck by way of +accompaniment to her thoughts--"Absolute dodging and spying round +corners after the style of a police detective. I just hate a lover +who makes his love, if it is love, into a kind of whip to flog your +poor soul with! Roxmouth here, Roxmouth there, Roxmouth everywhere!- +-he was just like the water in the Ancient Mariner 'and not a drop +to drink.' At the play, at the Opera, in the picture-galleries, at +the races, at the flower-shows, at all the 'crushes' and big +functions,--in London, in Paris, in New York, in St. Petersburg, in +Vienna,--always 'ce cher Roxmouth'--as Aunt Emily said;--money no +consideration, distance no object,--always 'ce cher Roxmouth,' stiff +as a poker, clean as fresh paint, and apparently as virtuous as an +old maid,--with all his aristocratic family looming behind him, and +a long ancestry of ghosts in the shadow of time, extending away back +to some Saxon 'nobles,' who no doubt were coarse barbarians that ate +more raw meat than was good for them, and had to be carried to bed +dead drunk on mead! It IS so absurd to boast of one's ancestry! If +we could only just see the dreadful men who began all the great +families, we should be perfectly ashamed of them! Most of them tore +up their food with their fingers. Now we Vancourts are supposed to +be descended from a warrior bold, named Robert Priaulx de +Vaignecourt, who fought in the Crusades. Poor Uncle Fred used to be +so proud of that! He was always talking about it, especially when we +were in America. He liked to try and make the Pilgrim-Father- +families jealous. Just as he used to boast that if he had only been +born three minutes before my father, instead of three minutes after, +he would have been the owner of Abbot's Manor. That three minutes' +delay and consideration he took about coming into the world made him +the youngest twin, and cut off his chances. And he told me that +Robert the Crusader had a brother named Osmond, who was believed to +have founded a monastery somewhere in this neighbourhood, and who +died, so the story goes, during a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, +though there's no authentic trace left of either Osmond or Robert +anywhere. They might, of course, have been very decent and agreeable +men,--but it's rather doubtful. If Osmond went on a pilgrimage he +would never have washed himself, to begin with,--it would have +destroyed his sanctity. And as for Robert the warrior bold, he would +have been dreadfully fierce and hairy,--and I'm quite sure I could +not possibly have asked him to dinner!" + +She laughed at her own fancies, and guided her mare under a drooping +canopy of early-flowering wild acacia, just for the sheer pleasure +of springing lightly up in her saddle to pull off a tuft of scented +white blossom. + +"The fact is," she continued half aloud, "there's nobody I can ask +to dinner even now as it is. Not down here. The local descriptions +of Sir Morton Pippitt do not tempt me to make his acquaintance, and +as for the parson I met just now,-why he would be impossible!-- +simply impossible!" she repeated with emphasis--" I can see exactly +what he's like at a glance. One of those cold, quiet, clever men who +'quiz' women and never admire them,--I know the kind of horrid +University creature! A sort of superior, touch-me-not-person who can +barely tolerate a woman's presence in the room, and in his heart of +hearts relegates the female sex generally to the lowest class of the +animal creation. I can read it all in his face. He's rather good- +looking--not very,--his hair curls quite nicely, but it's getting +grey, and so is his moustache,--he must be at least fifty, I should +think. He has a good figure--for a clergyman;--and his eyes--no, I'm +not sure that I like his eyes--I believe they're deceitful. I must +look at them again before I make up my mind. But I know he's just as +conceited and disagreeable as most parsons--he probably thinks that +he helps to turn this world and the next round on his little +finger,--and I daresay he tells the poor village folk here that if +they don't obey him, they'll go to hell, and if they do, they'll fly +straight to heaven and put on golden crowns at once. Dear me! What a +ridiculous state of things! Fancy the dear old man in the smock who +came to see me last night, with a pair of wings and a crown!" + +Laughing again, she flicked Cleopatra's neck with the reins, and +started off at an easy swinging gallop, turning out of the woods +into the carriage drive, and never checking her pace till she +reached the house. + +All that day she gave marked evidence that her reign as mistress of +Abbot's Manor had begun in earnest. Changing her riding dress for a +sober little tailor-made frock of home-spun, she flitted busily over +the old house of her ancestors, visiting it in every part, peering +into shadowy corners, opening antique presses and cupboards, finding +out the secret of sliding panels in the Jacobean oak that covered +the walls, and leaving no room unsearched. The apartment in which +her father's body had lain in its coffin was solemnly unlocked and +disclosed to her view under the title of 'the Ghost Room,'--whereat +she was sorrowfully indignant,--so much so indeed that Mrs. Spruce +shivered in her shoes, pricked by the sting of a guilty conscience, +for, if the truth be told, it was to Mrs. Spruce's own too-talkative +tongue that this offending name owed its origin. Quietly entering +the peaceful chamber with its harmless and almost holy air of +beautiful, darkened calm, Maryllia drew up the blinds, threw back +the curtains, and opened the latticed windows wide, admitting a +flood of sunshine and sweet air. + +"It must never be called 'the Ghost Room' again,"--she said, with a +reproachful gravity, which greatly disconcerted and overawed Mrs. +Spruce--"otherwise it will have an evil reputation which it does not +deserve. There is nothing ghostly or terrifying about it. It is a +sacred room,--sacred to the memory of one of the dearest and best of +men! It is wrong to let such a room be considered as haunted,--I +shall sleep in it myself sometimes,--and I shall make it bright and +pretty for visitors when they come. I would put a little child to +sleep in it,--for my father was a good man, and nothing evil can +ever be associated with him. Death is only dreadful to the ignorant +and the wicked." + +Mrs. Spruce wisely held her peace, and dutifully followed her new +mistress to the morning-room, where she had to undergo what might be +called quite a stiff examination regarding all the household and +housekeeping matters. Armed with a fascinating little velvet-bound +notebook and pencil, Maryllia put down all the names of the +different servants, both indoor and outdoor (making a small private +mark of her own against those who had served her father in any +capacity, and those who were just new to the place), together with +the amount of wages due every month to each,--she counted over all +the fine house linen, much of which had been purchased for her +mother's home-coming and had never been used;--she examined with all +a connoisseur's admiration the almost priceless old china with which +the Manor shelves, dressers and cupboards were crowded,--and finally +after luncheon and an hour's deep cogitation by herself in the +library, she wrote out in a round clerkly hand certain 'rules and +regulations,' for the daily routine of her household, and handed the +document to Mrs. Spruce,--much to that estimable dame's perturbation +and astonishment. + +"These are my hours, Spruce," she said--"And it will of course be +your business to see that the work is done punctually and with +proper method. There must be no waste or extravagance,--and you will +bring me all the accounts every week, as I won't have bills running +up longer than that period. I shall leave all the ordering in of +provisions to you,--if it ever happens that you send something to +table which I don't like, I will tell you, and the mistake need not +occur again. Now is there anything else?"--and she paused +meditatively, finger on lip, knitting her brows--"You see I've never +done any housekeeping, but I've always had notions as to how I +should do it if I ever got the chance to try, and I'm just +beginning. I believe in method,--and I like everything that HAS a +place to be in IN its place, and everything that HAS a time, to come +up to its time. It saves ever so much worry and trouble! Now let me +think!--oh yes!--I knew there was another matter. Please let the +gardeners and outdoor men generally know that if they want to speak +to me, they can always see me from ten to half-past every morning. +And, by the way, Spruce, tell the maids to go about their work +quietly,--there is nothing more objectionable than a noise and fuss +in the house just because a room is being swept and turned out. I +simply hate it! In the event of any quarrels or complaints, please +refer them to me--and--and--" Here she paused again with a smile-- +"Yes! I think that's all--for the present! I haven't yet gone +through the library or the picture-gallery;--however those rooms +have nothing to do with the ordinary daily housekeeping,--if I find +anything wanting to be done there, I'll send for you again. But +that's about all now!" + +Poor Mrs. Spruce curtseyed deferentially and tremulously. She was +not going to have it all her own way as she had fondly imagined when +she first saw the apparently child-like personality of her new lady. +The child-like personality was merely the rose-flesh covering of a +somewhat determined character. + +"And anything I can do for you, Spruce, or for your husband," +continued Maryllia, dropping her business-like tone for one of as +coaxing a sweetness as ever Shakespeare's Juliet practised for the +persuasion of her too tardy Nurse--"will be done with ever so much +pleasure! You know that, don't you?" And she laid her pretty little +hands on the worthy woman's portly shoulders--"You shall go out +whenever you like--after work, of course!--duty first, pleasure +second!--and you shall even grumble, if you feel like it,--and have +your little naps when the midday meal is done with,--Aunt Emily's +housekeeper in London used to have them, and she snored dreadfully! +the second footman--QUITE a nice lad--used to tickle her nose with a +straw! But I can't afford to keep a second footman--one is quite +enough,--or a coachman, or a carriage;--besides, I would always +rather ride than drive,--and my groom, Bennett, will only want a +stable-boy to help him with Cleo and Daffodil. So I hope there'll be +no one downstairs to tease you, Spruce dear, by tickling YOUR nose +with a straw! Primmins looks much too staid and respectable to think +of such a thing." + +She laughed merrily,--and Mrs. Spruce for the life of her could not +help laughing too. The picture of Primmins condescending to indulge +in a game of 'nose and straw' was too grotesque to be considered +with gravity. + +"Well I never, Miss!" she ejaculated--"You do put things that +funny!" + +"Do I? I'm so glad!" said Maryllia demurely--"it's nice to be funny +to other people, even if you're not funny to yourself! But I want +you to understand from the first, Spruce, that everyone must feel +happy and contented in my household. So if anything goes wrong, you +must tell me, and I will try and set it right. Now I'm going for an +hour's walk with Plato, and when I come in, and have had my tea, +I'll visit the picture-gallery. I know all about it,--Uncle Fred +told me,"--she paused, and her eyes darkened with a wistful and +deepening gravity,--then she added gently--"I shall not want you +there, Spruce,--I must be quite alone." + +Mrs. Spruce again curtseyed humbly, and was about to withdraw, when +Maryllia called her back. + +"What about the clergyman here, Mr. Walden?"--she asked--"Is he a +nice man?--kind to the village people, I mean, and good to the +poor?" + +Mrs. Spruce gave a kind of ecstatic gasp, folded her fat hands +tightly together in front of her voluminous apron, and launched +forth straightway on her favourite theme. + +"Mr. Walden is jest one of the finest men God ever made, Miss," she +said, with solemnity and unction--"You may take my word for it! He's +that good, that as we often sez, if m'appen there ain't no saint in +the Sarky an' nowt but dust, we've got a real live saint walkin' +free among us as is far more 'spectable to look at in his plain coat +an' trousers than they monks an' friars in the picter-books wi' +ropes around their waistses an' bald crowns, which ain't no sign to +me o' bein' full o' grace, but rather loss of 'air,--an' which you +will presently see yourself, Miss, as 'ow Mr. Walden's done the +church beautiful, like a dream, as all the visitors sez, which there +isn't its like in all England--an' he's jest a father to the village +an' friends with every man, woman, an' child in it, an' grudges +nothink to 'elp in cases deservin', an' works like a nigger, he do, +for the school, which if he'd 'ad a wife it might a' been better an' +it might a' been worse, the Lord only knows, for no woman would a' +come up 'ere an' stood that patient watchin' me an' my work, an' I +tell you truly, Miss Maryllia, that when your boxes came an' I had +to unpack 'em an' sort the clothes in 'em, I sent for Passon Walden +jest to show 'im that I felt my 'sponsibility, an' he sez, sez he: +'You go on doin' your duty, Missis Spruce, an' your lady will be all +right'--an' though I begged 'im to stop, he wouldn't while I was a- +shakin' out your dresses with Nancy--" + +Here she was interrupted by a ringing peal of laughter from +Maryllia, who, running up to her, put a little hand on her mouth. + +"Stop, stop, Spruce!" she exclaimed--"Oh dear, oh dear I Do you +think I can understand all this? Did you show the parson my clothes- +-actually? You did!" For Mrs. Spruce nodded violently in the +affirmative. "Good gracious! What a perfectly dreadful thing to do!" +And she laughed again. "And what is the saint in the Sarky?" Here +she removed her hand from the mouth she was guarding. "Say it in one +word, if you can,--what is the Sarky?" + +"It's in the church,"--said Mrs. Spruce, dauntlessly proceeding with +her flow of narrative, and encouraged thereto by the sparkling mirth +in her mistress's face--"We calls it Sarky for short. Josey +Letherbarrow, what reads, an' 'as larnin', calls it the Sarky Fagus, +an' my Kitty, she's studied at the school, an' SHE sez 'it's Sar-KO- +fagus, mother,' which it may be or it mayn't, for the schools don't +know more than the public-'ouses in my opinion,--leastways it's a +great long white coffin what's supposed to 'ave the body of a saint +inside it, an' Mr. Walden he discovered it when he was rebuildin' +the church, an' when the Bishop come to conskrate it, he sez 'twas a +saint in there an' that's why the village is called St. Rest--but +you'll find it all out yourself. Miss, an' as I sez an' I don't care +who 'ears me, the real saint ain't in the Sarky at all,--it's just +Mr. Walden himself,--" + +Again Maryllia's hand closed her mouth. + +"You really must stop, Spruce! You are the dearest old gabbler +possible--but you must stop! You'll have no breath left--and I shall +have no patience! I've heard quite enough. I met Mr. Walden this +morning, and I'm sure he isn't a saint at all! He's a very ordinary +person indeed,--most ordinary--not in the very least remarkable. +I'm. glad he's good to the people, and that they like him--that's +really all that's necessary, and it's all I want to know. Go along, +Spruce!--don't talk to me any more about saints in the Sarky or out +of the Sarky! There never was a real saint in the world--never!--not +in the shape of a man!" + +With laughter still dancing in her eyes, she turned away, and Mrs. +Spruce, in full possession of restored nerve and vivacity, bustled +off on her round of household duty, the temporary awe she had felt +concerning the new written code of domestic 'Rules and Regulations' +having somewhat subsided under the influence of her mistress's gay +good-humour. And Maryllia herself, putting on her hat, called Plato +to her side, and started off for the village, resolved to make the +church her first object of interest, in order to see the wondrous +'Sarky.' + +"I never was so much entertained in my life!" she declared to +herself, as she walked lightly along,--her huge dog bounding in +front of her and anon returning to kiss her hand and announce by +deep joyous barks his delight at finding himself at liberty in the +open country--"Spruce is a perfect comedy in herself,--ever so much +better than a stage play! And then the quaint funny men who came to +see me last night,--and those village boys this morning! And the +'saintly' parson! I'm sure he'll turn out to be comic too,--in a +way--he'll be the 'heavy father' of the piece! Really I never +imagined I should have so much fun!" + +Here, spying a delicate pinnacle gleaming through the trees, she +rightly concluded that it belonged to the church she intended to +visit, and finding a footpath leading across the fields, she +followed it. It was the same path which Walden had for so many years +been accustomed to take in his constant walks to and from the Manor. +It soon brought her to the highroad which ran through the village, +and across this it was but a few steps to the gate of the +churchyard. Laying one hand on her dog's neck, she checked the great +creature's gambols and compelled him to walk sedately by her side, +as with hushed footsteps she entered the 'Sleepy Hollow' of death's +long repose, and went straight up to the church door which, as +usual, stood open. + +"Stay here, Plato!" she whispered to her four-footed comrade, who, +understanding the mandate, lay down at once submissively in the +porch to wait her pleasure. + +Entering the sacred shrine she stood still,--awed by its exquisite +beauty and impressive simplicity. The deep silence, the glamour of +the soft vari-coloured light that flowed through the lancet windows +on either side,--the open purity of the nave, without any +disfiguring pews or fixed seats to mar its clear space,--(for the +chairs which were used at service were all packed away in a remote +corner out of sight)--the fair, slender columns, springing up into +flowering capitals, like the stems of palms breaking into leaf- +coronals,--the dignified plainness of the altar, with that strange +white sarcophagus set in front of it,--all these taken together, +composed a picture of sweet sanctity and calm unlike anything she +had ever seen before. Her emotional nature responded to the +beautiful in all things, and this small perfectly designed House of +Prayer, with its unknown saintly occupant at rest within its walls, +touched her almost to tears. Stepping on tip-toe up to the altar- +rails, she instinctively dropped on her knees, while she read all +that could be seen of the worn inscription on the sarcophagus from +that side-'In Resurrectione--Sanctorum--Resurget.' The atmosphere +around her seemed surcharged with mystical suggestions,--a vague +poetic sense of the super-human and divine moved her to a faint +touch of fear, and made her heart beat more quickly than its wont. + +"It is lovely--lovely!" she murmured under her breath, as she rose +from her kneeling attitude--"The whole church is a perfect gem of +architecture! I have never seen anything more beautiful in its way,- +-not even the Chapel of the Thorn at Pisa. And according to Mrs. +Spruce's account, the man I met this morning--the quizzical parson +with the grey-brown curly-locks, did it all at his own expense--he +must really be quite clever,--such an unusual thing for a country +clergyman!" + +She took another observant survey of the whole building, and then +went out again into the churchyard. There she paused, her dog beside +her, shading her eyes from the sun as she looked wistfully from +right to left across the sadly suggestive little hillocks of mossy +turf besprinkled with daisies, in search of an object which was as a +landmark of disaster in her life. + +She saw it at last, and moved slowly towards it,--a plain white +marble cross, rising from a smooth grassy eminence, where a rambling +rose, carefully and even artistically trained, was just beginning to +show pale creamy buds among its glossy dark green leaves. Great +tears rose to her eyes and fell unheeded, as she read the brief +inscription--'Sacred to the Memory of Robert Vancourt of Abbot's +Manor,' this being followed by the usual dates of birth and death, +and the one word 'Resting.' With tender touch Maryllia gathered one +leaf from the climbing rose foliage, and kissing it amid her tears, +turned away, unable to bear the thoughts and memories which began to +crowd thickly upon her. Almost she seemed to hear her father's deep +mellow voice which had been the music of her childhood, playfully +saying as was so often his wont:--"Well, my little girl! How goes +the world with you?" Alas, the world had gone very ill with her for +a long, long time after his death! Hers was too loving and +passionately clinging a nature to find easy consolation for such a +loss. Her uncle Frederick, though indulgent to her and always kind, +had never filled her father's place,--her uncle Frederick's American +wife, had, in spite of much conscientious tutelage and chaperonage, +altogether failed to win her affection or sympathy. The sorrowful +sense that she was an orphan, all alone as it were with herself to +face the mystery of life, never deserted her,--and it was perhaps in +the most brilliant centres of society that this consciousness of +isolation chiefly weighed upon her. She saw other girls around her +with their fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters,--but she--she, +by the very act of being born had caused her mother's death,--and +she well knew that her father's heart, quietly as he had endured his +grief to all outward appearances, had never healed of that agonising +wound. + +"I think I should never have come into the world at all,"--she said +to herself with a sigh, as she returned over the fields to the +Manor--"I am no use to anybody,--I never have been of any use! Aunt +Emily says all I have to do to show my sense of proper feeling and +gratitude to her for her care of me is to marry--and marry well-- +marry Lord Roxmouth, in short--he will be a duke when his father +dies, and Aunt Emily would like to have the satisfaction of leaving +her millions to enrich an English dukedom. Nothing could commend +itself more favourably to her ideas--only it just happens my ideas +won't fit in the same groove. Oh dear! Why can't I be 'amenable' and +become a future duchess, and 'build up' the fortunes of a great +family? I don't know I'm sure,--except that I don't feel like it! +Great families don't appeal to me. I shouldn't care if there were +none left. They are never interesting at the best of times,--perhaps +out of several of them may come one clever man or woman,--and all +the rest will be utter noodles. It isn't worth while to marry +Roxmouth on such dubious grounds of possibility!" + +Entering the Manor, she was conscious of some fatigue and +listlessness,--a touch of depression weighed down her naturally +bright spirits. She exchanged her home-spun walking dress for a tea- +gown, and descended somewhat languidly to the morning-room where tea +was served with more ceremoniousness than on the previous day, +Primmins having taken command, with the assistance of the footman. +Both men-servants stole respectful glances at their mistress, as she +sat pensively alone at the open window, looking out on the verdant +landscape that spread away from the terrace, in undulations of lawn, +foliage and field to the last border of trees that closed in Abbot's +Manor grounds from the public highway. Both would have said had they +been asked, that she was much too pretty and delicate to be all +alone in the great old house, with no companion of her own age to +exchange ideas with by speech or glance,--and, with that masculine +self-assurance which is common to all the lords of creation, whether +they be emperors or household domestics, they would have opined that +'she ought to be married.' In which they would have entirely agreed +with Maryllia's 'dragon' Aunt Emily. But Maryllia's own mind was far +from being set on such themes as love and marriage. Her meditations +were melancholy, and not unmixed with self-reproach. She blamed +herself for having stayed away so long from her childhood's home, +and her father's grave. + +"I might have visited it at least once a year!" she thought with +sharp compunction--"I never really forgot,--why did I seem to +forget?" + +The sun was sinking slowly in a glory of crimson and amber cloud, +when, having resolved upon what she was going to do, she entered the +picture-gallery. Softly she trod the polished floor,--with keen +quick instinct and appreciative eyes, she noted the fine Vandyke +portraits,--the exquisite Greuze that shone out, star-like, from a +dark corner of the panelled walls,--and walking with measured pace +she went straight up to the picture of 'Mary Elia Adelgisa de +Vaignecourt'--and gazed at it with friendly and familiar eyes. + +"I know YOU quite well!"--she said, addressing the painted beauty-- +"I have often dreamed about you since I left home! I always admired +you and wanted to be like you. I remember when I must have been +about seven or eight years old, I ran in from a game in the garden +one summer's afternoon, and I knelt down in front of you and I said: +'Pray God make little Maryllia as pretty as big Mary Elia!' And I +think,--I really do think--though of course I'm not half or quarter +as pretty, I'm just a little like you! Just a very, very little! For +instance my hair is the same colour--almost--and my eyes--no! I'm +sure I haven't such beautiful eyes as yours--I wish I had!" + +Her lovely ancestress appeared to smile,--if she could have spoken +from the canvas that held her painted image she might have said:-- +"You have eyes that mirror the sunshine,--you have life, and I am +dead,--your day is still with you--mine is done! For me love and the +world's delight are ended,--and whither my phantom fairness has +fled, who knows! But you are a vital breathing essence of beauty--be +glad and rejoice in it while you may!" + +Some thought of this kind would have suggested itself to an +imaginative beholder had such an one stood by to compare the picture +with its almost twin living copy. Maryllia however had a very small +stock of vanity,--she was only pleasantly aware that she possessed a +certain grace and fascination not common to the ordinary of her sex, +but beyond that, she rated her personal charms at very slight value. +The portrait of Mary Elia Adelgisa made her more seriously +discontented with herself than ever,--and after closely studying the +picturesque make of the violet velvet riding-dress which the fair +one of Charles the Second's day had worn, and deciding that she +would have one 'created' for her own adornment exactly like it, she +turned towards the other end of the gallery. There hung that +preciously guarded mysterious portrait of her dead mother, which she +herself had never gazed upon, covered close with its dark green +baize curtain,--a curtain no hand save her father's had ever dared +to raise. She remembered how often he had used to enter here all +alone and lock the doors, remaining thus in sorrow and solitude many +hours. She recalled her own childish fears when, by chance running +in to look at the pictures for her own entertainment, or to play +with her ball on a rainy day for the convenience of space and a +lofty ceiling, she was suddenly checked and held in awe by the sight +of that great gilded frame enshrining the, to her, unknown +presentment of a veiled Personality. Her father alone was familiar +with the face hidden behind that covering which he had put up with +his own hands,--fastening it by means of a spring pulley, which in +its turn was secured to the wall by lock and key. Ever since his +death Maryllia had worn that key on a gold chain hidden in her +bosom, and she drew it out now with a beating heart and many +tremours of hesitation. The trailing folds of her pretty tea-gown, +all of the filmiest old lace and ivory-hued cashmere, seemed to make +an obtrusive noise as they softly swept the floor,--she felt almost +as though she were about to commit a sacrilege and break open a +shrine,--yet-- + +"I must see her!" she said, whisperingly--"I shall not offend her +memory. I have never done anything very wrong in my life,--if I had, +I should have reason to be afraid--or ashamed,--and then of course +wouldn't dare to look at her. I have often been silly and frivolous +and thoughtless,--but never spiteful or malicious, or really wicked. +I could meet my father if he were here, just as frankly as if I were +still a little girl,--and I think he would wish me to see his +Dearest now! His Dearest! He always called her that!" + +With the breath coming and going quickly through her parted lips, +she stepped slowly and timidly up to that corner in the wall behind +the picture, where the fastenings of the spring pulley were +concealed, and fitted the key into the padlock which guarded it. The +light of the setting sun threw a flame of glory aslant through the +windows, and filled the gallery with a warm rush of living colour +and radiance; and as she removed the padlock, and came to the front +of the picture to pull the curtain-cord, she stood, unconsciously to +herself, in a pure halo of gold, which intensified the brown and +amber shades of her hair and the creamy folds of her gown, so that +she resembled 'an angel newly drest, save wings, for heaven,' such +as one may see delineated on the illuminated page of some antique +missal. Her hand trembled, as at the first touch on the pulley the +curtain began to move,--inch by inch it ascended, showing pale +glimmerings of white and rose,--still higher it moved, giving to the +light a woman's beautiful hand, so delicately painted as to seem +almost living. The hand held a letter, and plainly on the half +unfolded scroll could be read the words: + +"Thine till death, ROBERT VANCOURT." + +Another touch, and the whole covering rolled up swiftly to its full +height,--while Maryllia breathless with excitement and interest +gazed with all her soul in her eyes at the exquisite, dreamy, poetic +loveliness of the face disclosed. All the beauty of girlhood with +the tenderness of womanhood,--all the visions of young romance, +united to the fulfilled passion of the heart,--all the budding +happiness of a radiant life,-all the promise of a perfect love;-- +these were faithfully reflected in the purely moulded features, the +dark blue caressing eyes, and the sweet mouth, which to Maryllia's +fervid imagination appeared to tremble plaintively with a sigh of +longing for the joy of life that had been snatched away so soon. +Arrayed in simplest white, with a rose at her breast, and her +husband's letter clasped in her hand, the fair form of the young +bride that never came home gathered from the sunset-radiance an +aspect of life, and seemed to float forth from the dark canvas like +a holy spirit of beauty and blessing. Shadow and Substance--dead +mother and living child--these twain gazed on each other through +cloud-veils of impenetrable mystery,--nor is it impossible to +conceive that some intangible contact between them might, through +the transference of a thought, a longing, a prayer, have been +realised at that mystic moment. With a sudden cry of irresistible +emotion Maryllia stretched out her arms, and dropping on her knees, +broke out into a passion of tears. + +"Oh mother, mother!" she sobbed--"Oh darling mother! I would have +loved you!" + + + + +XII + + +In such wise, under the silent benediction of the lost loving dead, +the long-deserted old Manor received back the sole daughter of its +ancestry to that protection which we understand, or did understand +at one time in our history, as 'Home.' Home was once a safe and +sacred institution in England. There seemed no likelihood of its +ever being supplanted by the public restaurant. That it has, in a +great measure, been so supplanted, is no advantage to the country, +and that many women, young and old, prefer to be seen in gregarious +over-dressed hordes, taking their meals in Piccadilly eating-houses, +rather than essay the becoming grace of a simple and sincere +hospitality to their friends in their own homes, is no evidence of +their improved taste or good breeding. Abbot's Manor was in every +sense 'Home' in the old English sense of the word. Its ancient +walls, hallowed by long tradition, formed a peaceful and sweet +harbour of rest for a woman's life,--and the tranquil dignity of her +old-world surroundings with all the legends and memories they +awakened, soon had a beneficial effect on Maryllia's impressionable +temperament, which, under her aunt's 'social' influence, had been +more or less chafed and uneasy. She began to feel at peace with +herself and all the world,--while the relief she experienced at +having deliberately severed herself by both word and act from the +undesired attentions of a too-persistent and detested lover in the +person of Lord Roxmouth, future Duke of Ormistonne, was as keen and +pleasurable as that of a child who has run away from school. She was +almost confident that the fact of her having thrown off her aunt's +protection together with all hope of inheriting her aunt's wealth, +would be sufficient to keep him away from her for the future. "For +it is Aunt Emily's money he wants--not me;" she said to herself--"He +doesn't care a jot about me personally--any woman will do, provided +she has the millions. And when he knows I've given up the millions, +and don't intend ever to have the millions, he'll leave me alone. +And he'll go over to America in search of somebody else--some proud +daughter of oil or pork or steel!--and what a blessing that will +be!" + +Meanwhile, such brief excitement as had been caused in St. Rest by +the return of 'th' owld Squire's gel' and by the almost simultaneous +dismissal of Oliver Leach, had well-nigh abated. A new agent had +been appointed, and though Leach had left the immediate vicinity, +having employment on Sir Morton Pippitt's lands, he had secured a +cottage for himself in the small outlying hamlet of Badsworth. He +also undertook some work for the Reverend 'Putty' Leveson in +assisting him to form an entomological collection for the private +museum at Badsworth Hall. Mr. Leveson had a singular fellow-feeling +for insects,--he studied their habits, and collected specimens of +various kinds in bottles, or 'pinned' them on cardboard trays,--he +was an interested observer of the sprightly manners practised by the +harvest-bug, and the sagacious customs of the ruminating spider,--as +well as the many surprising and agreeable talents developed by the +common flea. Leach's virulent hatred of Maryllia Vancourt was not +lessened by the apparently useful and scientific nature of the +employment he had newly taken up under the guidance of his reverend +instructor,--and whenever he caught a butterfly and ran his +murderous pin through its quivering body at Leveson's bland command, +he thought of her, and wished vindictively that she might perish as +swiftly and utterly as the winged lover of the flowers. Every small +bright thing in Nature's garden that he slew and brought home as +trophy, inspired him with the same secret fierce desire. The act of +killing a beautiful or harmless creature gave him pleasure, and he +did not disguise it from himself. The Reverend 'Putty' was delighted +with his aptitude, and with the many valuable additions he made to +the 'specimen' cards and bottles, and the two became constant +companions in their search for fresh victims among the blossoming +hedgerows and fields. St. Rest, as a village, was only too glad to +be rid of Leach's long detested presence to care anything at all as +to his further occupations or future career,--and only Bainton kept +as he said 'an eye on him.' + +Bainton was a somewhat curious personage,--talkative as he showed +himself on most occasions, he was both shrewd and circumspect; no +stone was more uncommunicative than he when he chose. In his heart +he had set Maryllia Vancourt as second to none save his own master, +John Walden,--her beauty and grace, her firm action with regard to +the rescue of the 'Five Sisters,' and her quick dismissal of Oliver +Leach, had all inspired him with the most unbounded admiration and +respect, and he felt that he now had a double interest in life,--the +'Passon'--and the 'lady of the Manor.' But he found very little +opportunity to talk about his new and cherished theme of Miss +Vancourt and Miss Vancourt's many attractions to Walden,--for John +always 'shut him up' on the subject with quite a curt and peremptory +decision whenever be so much as mentioned her name. Which conduct on +the part of one who was generally so willing to hear and patient to +listen, somewhat surprised Bainton. + +"For," he argued--"there ain't much doin' in the village,--we ain't +always 'on the go'--an' when a pretty face comes among us, surely +it's worth looking at an' pickin' to pieces as 'twere. But Passon's +that sharp on me when I sez any little thing wot might be +interestin' about the lady, that I'm thinkin' he's got out o' the +habit o' knowin' when a face is a male or a female one, which is wot +often happens to bacheldors when they gits fixed like old shrubs in +one pertikler spot o' ground. Now I should a' said he'd a' bin glad +to 'ear of somethin' new an' oncommon as 'twere,--he likes it in the +way o' flowers, an' why not in the way o' wimmin? But Passon ain't +like other folk--he don't git on with wimmin nohow--an' the prettier +they are the more he seems skeered off them." + +But such opinions as Bainton entertained concerning his master, he +kept to himself, and having once grasped the fact that any mention +of Miss Vancourt's ways or Miss Vancourt's looks appeared to +displease rather than to entertain the Reverend John, he avoided the +subject altogether. This course of action on his part, if the truth +must be told, was equally annoying to Walden, who was in the curious +mental condition of wishing to know what he declined to hear. + +For the rest, the village generally grew speedily accustomed to the +presence of the mistress of the Manor. She had fulfilled her promise +of paying a visit to Josey Letherbarrow, and had sat with the old +man in his cottage, talking to him for the better part of two hours. +Rumour asserted that she had even put the kettle on the fire for +him, and had made his tea. Josey himself was reticent,--and beyond +the fact that he held up his head with more dignity, and showed a +touch of more conscious superiority in his demeanour, he did not +give himself away by condescending to narrate any word of the +lengthy interview that had taken place between himself and 'th' owld +Squire's little gel.' One remarkable thing was noticed by the +villagers and commented upon,--Miss Vancourt had now passed two +Sundays in their midst, and had never once attended church. Her +servants were always there at morning service, but she herself was +absent. This occasioned much whispering and head-shaking in the +little community, and one evening the subject was openly discussed +in the bar-room of the 'Mother Huff' by a group of rustic worthies +whose knowledge of matters theological and political was, by +themselves, considered profound. Mrs. Buggins had started the +conversation, and Mrs. Buggins was well known to be a lady both +pious and depressing. She presided over her husband's 'public' with +an air of meek resignation, not unmixed with sorrowful protest,--she +occasionally tasted the finer cordials in the bar-room, and was +often moved to gentle tears at the excellence of their flavour,--she +had a chronic 'stitch in the side,' and a long smooth pale yellow +countenance from which the thin grey hair was combed well back from +the temples in the frankly unbecoming fashion affected by the +provincial British matron. She begun her remarks by plaintively +opining that "it was a very strange thing not to see Miss Vancourt +at church, on either of the Sundays that had passed since her +return--very strange! Perhaps she was 'High'? Perhaps she had driven +into Riversford to attend the 'processional' service of the Reverend +Francis Anthony?" + +"Perhaps she ain't done nothing of the sort!"--growled a thick-set +burly farmer, who with a capacious mug of ale before him was sucking +at his pipe with as much zeal as a baby at its bottle--"Ef you cares +for my 'pinion, which, m'appen you doan't, she's neither Low nor +'Igh. She's no Seck. If she h'longed to a Seck, she wouldn't be +readin' on a book under the Five Sisters last Sunday marnin' when +the bells was a-ringin' for church time. I goes past 'er, an' I sez +'Marnin,' mum!' an' she looks up smilin'-like, an' sez she: 'Good- +marnin!' Nice day, isn't it?' 'Splendid day, mum,' sez I, an' she +went on readin', an' I went on a walkin'. I sez then, and I sez now, +she ain't no Seck!" + +"Example," sighed Mrs. Buggins, "is better than precept. It would be +more decent if the lady showed herself in church as a lesson to +others,--if she did so more lost sheep might follow!" + +"Hor-hor-hor!" chuckled Bainton, from a corner of the room--"Don't +you worrit yourself, Missis Buggins, 'bout no lost sheep! Sheep +allus goes where there's somethin' to graze upon,--leastways that's +my 'speriemce, an' if there ain't no grazin' there ain't no sheep! +An' them as grazes on Passon Walden, gittin' out of 'im all they can +to 'elp 'em along, wouldn't go to church, no more than Miss Vancourt +do, if they didn't know wot a man 'e is to be relied on in times o' +trouble, an' a reg'lar 'usband to the parish in sickness an' in +'elth, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, till death do +'im part. Miss Vancourt don't want nothin' out of 'im as all we +doos, an' she kin show 'er independence ef she likes to by stayin' +away from church when she fancies, an' readin' books instead of +'earin' sermons,--there ain't no harm in that." + +"I'm not so sure that I agree with you, Mr. Bainton,"--said a stout, +oily-looking personage, named Netlips, the grocer and 'general +store' dealer of the village, a man who was renowned in the district +for the profundity and point of his observations at electoral +meetings, and for the entirely original manner in which he 'used' +the English language; "Public worship is a necessary evil. It is a +factor in vulgar civilisations. Without it, the system of religious +politics would fall into cohesion,--absolute cohesion!" And he +rapped his fist on the table with a smartness that made his hearers +jump. "At the last meeting I addressed in this division, I said we +must support the props. The aristocracy must bear them on their +shoulders. If your Squire stays away from church, he may be called a +heathen with propriety, though a Liberal. And why? Because he makes +public exposure of himself as a heathen negative! He is bound to +keep up the church factor in the community. Otherwise he runs +straight aground on Cohesion." + +This oratorical outburst on the part of Mr. Netlips was listened to +with respectful awe and admiration. + +"Ay, ay!" said Roger Buggins, who as 'mine host' stood in his shirt +sleeves at the entrance of his bar, surveying his customers and +mentally counting up their reckonings--"Cohesion would never do-- +cohesion government would send the country to pieces. You're right, +Mr. Netlips,--you're right! Props must be kep' up!" + +"I don't see no props in goin' to church,"--said Dan Ridley, the +little working tailor of the village--"I goes because I likes Mr. +Walden, but if there was a man in the pulpit I didn't like, I'd stop +away. There's a deal too many wolves in sheep's clothing getting +ordained in the service o' the Lord, an' I don't blame Miss Vancourt +if so be she takes time to find out the sort o' man Mr. Walden is +before settin' under him as 'twere. She can say prayers an' read 'em +too in her own room, an' study the Bible all right without goin' to +church. Many folks as goes to church reg'lar are downright mean +lyin' raskills--and don't never read their Bibles at all. Mebbe they +does as much harm as what Mr. Netlips calls Cohesion, though I don't +myself purfess to understand Government language, it bein' too deep +for me." + +Mr. Netlips smiled condescendingly, and nodded as one who should +say--'You do well, my poor fellow, to be humble in my presence!'-- +and buried his nose in his tankard of ale. + +"Mebbe Cohesion's got hold o' my red cow"--said the burly farmer who +had spoken before--"For she's as ailin' as ever she was, an' if I +lose her, I loses a bit o' my livin.' An' that's what I sez an' +'olds by, no church-goin' seems to 'elp us in a bit o' trouble, an' +it ain't decent or Christian like, so it 'pears, to pray to the +Almighty for the savin' of a cow. I asked Passon Walden if 'twould +be right, for the cow's as valuable to me as ever my wife was when +she was alive, if not more, an' he sez quite pleasant-like--'Well +no, Mister Thorpe, I think it best not to make any sort of special +prayer for the poor beast, but just do all you can for it, and leave +the rest to Providence. A cow is worldly goods, you see--and we're +not quite justified in praying to be allowed to keep our worldly +goods.' 'Ain't we!' I sez--'Is that a fact? He smiled and said it +was. So I thanked him and comed away. But I've been thinkin' it over +since, an' I sez to myself--ef we ain't to pray for keepin' an' +'avin' our worldly goods, wot 'ave we got to pray for?" + +"Oh Mr. Thorpe!" ejaculated Mrs. Buggins, almost tearfully--"It is +not this world but the next, that we must think of! We must pray for +our souls!" + +"Well, marm, I ain't got a 'soul' wot I knows on--an' as for the +next world, if there ain't no cattle farmin' there, I reckon I'll be +out o' work. Do you count on keepin' a bar in the 'eavenly country?" + +A loud guffaw went the round of the room, and Mrs. Buggins gasped +with horror. + +"Oh, Roger!" she murmured, addressing her portly spouse, who at once +took up the argument. + +"You goes too fur--you goes too fur, Mister Thorpe!" he said +severely--"There ain't no keepin' bars nor farmin' carried on in the +next world, nor marrying nor givin' in marriage. We be all as the +angels there." + +"A nice angel you'll make too, Mr. Buggins!" said Farmer Thorpe, as +he sent his tankard to be refilled,--"Lord! We won't know you!" + +Again the laugh went round, and Mrs. Buggins precipitately retired +to her 'inner parlour' there to recover from the shock occasioned to +her religious feelings by the irreverent remarks of her too matter- +of-fact customer. Meanwhile Dan Ridley, the tailor, had again +reverted to the subject of Miss Vancourt. + +"There's one thing about her comin' to church,"--he said; "If so be +as she did come it 'ud do us all good, for she's real pleasant to +look at. I've seen her a many times in the village." + +"Ah, so have I!" chorussed two or three more men. + +"She's been in to see Adam Frost's children an' she gave Baby +Hippolyta a bag o' sweeties,"--said Bainton. "An' she's called at +the schoolhouse, but Miss Eden, she worn't in an' Susie Prescott saw +her, an' Susie was that struck that she 'adn't a wurrd to say, so +she tells us, an' Miss Vancourt she went to old Josey Letherbarrow's +straight away an' there she stayed iver so long. She ain't called at +our house yet." + +"Which 'ouse might you be a-meanin', Tummas?" queried Farmer Thorpe, +with a slow grin--"Your own or your measter's?" + +"When we speaks in the plural we means not one, but two,"--rejoined +Bainton with dignity. "An' when I sez 'our' I means myself an' +Passon, which Miss Vancourt ain't as yet left her card on Passon. He +went up in a great 'urry one afternoon when he knowed she was out,-- +he knowed it, 'cos I told 'im as 'ow I'd seen her gallopin' by on +that mare of hers which, they calls Cleopatra-an' away 'e run like a +March 'are, an' he ups to the Manor and down again, an' sez he, +laughin' like: 'I've done my dooty by the lady' sez he--'I've left +my card!' That was three days ago, an' there ain't been no return o' +the perliteness up to the present--" + +Here he broke off and began to drink his ale, as a small dapper man +entered the bar-room with a brisk step and called for 'a glass of +home-brewed,' looking round on those assembled with a condescending +smile. All of them knew him as Jim Bennett, Miss Vancourt's groom. + +"Well, mates!" he said with a sprightly air of familiarity--"All +well and hearty?" + +"As yourself, Mr. Bennett,"--replied Roger Buggins, acting as +spokesman for the rest, and personally serving him with the foaming +draught he had ordered. "Which, we likewise trusts your lady is +well?" + +"My lady enjoys the hest of health, thank you!" said Bennett, with +polite gravity. And tossing off the contents of his glass, he +signified by an eloquent gesture and accompanying wink, that he was +'good for another.' + +"We was just a-sayin' as you come in, Mr. Bennett," observed Dan +Ridley, "that we'd none of us seen your lady at church yet on +Sundays, Mebbe she ain't of our 'persuasion' as they sez, or mehbe +she goes into Riversford, preferrin' 'Igh services---" + +Bennett smiled a superior smile, and leaning easily against the bar, +crossed his legs and surveyed the company generally with a +compassionate air. + +"I suppose it's quite a business down here,--goin' to church, eh?" +he queried--"Sort of excitement like--only bit of fun you've got-- +helps to keep you all alive! That's the country way, but Lord bless +you!--in town we're not taking any!" + +Bainton looked up,--and Mr. Netlips loosened his collar and lifted +his head, as though preparing himself for another flow of 'cohesion' +eloquence. Farmer Thorpe turned his bull-neck slowly round, and +brought his eyes to bear on the speaker. + +"How d'ye make that out, Mr. Bennett?" he demanded. "Doan't ye sarve +the A'mighty same in town as in country?" + +"Not a bit of it!" replied Bennett airily--"You're a long way behind +the times, Mr. Thorpe!--you are indeed, beggin' your pardon for +sayin' so! The 'best' people have given up the Almighty altogether, +owing to recent scientific discoveries. They've taken to the +Almighty Dollar instead which no science can do away with. And +Sundays aren't used any more for church-going, except among the +middle-class population,--they're just Bridge days with OUR set-- +Bridge lunches, Bridge suppers,--every Sunday's chock full of +engagements to 'Bridge,' right through the 'season.'" + +"That's cards, ain't it?" enquired Dan Ridley. + +"Just so! Harmless cards!" rejoined Bennett--"Only you can chuck +away a few thousands or so on 'em if you like!" + +Mr. Netlips here pushed aside his emptied ale-glass and raised his +fat head unctuously out of his stiff shirt-collar. + +"Are we to understand," he began ponderously, "that Miss Vancourt is +addicted to this fashion of procrastinating the Lord's Day?" + +Bennett straightened his dapper figure suddenly. + +"Now don't you put yourself out, Mr. Netlips, don't, that's a good +feller!" he said in sarcastically soothing tones--"There's no +elections going on just at present--when there is you can bring your +best leg foremost, and rant away for all you're worth! My lady don't +gamble, if that's what you mean,--though she's always with the +swagger set, and likely so to remain. But you keep up your spirits!- +-your groceries 'ull be paid for all right!--she don't run up no +bills--so don't you fear, cards or no cards! And as for +procrastinating the Lord's Day, whatever that may be, I could name +to you the folks what does worse than play Bridge on Sundays. And +who are they? Why the clergymen theirselves! And how does they do +worse? Why by tellin' lies as fast as they can stick! They says +we're all going to heaven if we're good,--and they don't know +nothing about it,--and we're all going to hell if we're bad, and +they don't know nothing about that neither! I tell you, as I told +you at first, in town we've got beyond all that stuff--we're just +not taking any!" + +He paused, and there was a deep silence, while he drank off his +second glass of ale. The thoughts of every man present were +apparently too deep for words. + +"You're a smart chap!" said Bainton at last, breaking the mystic +spell and rising to take his leave--"An' I don't want to argify with +ye, for I'spect you're about right in what you sez about Sunday ways +in town--but I tell ye what, young feller!--you've got to 'ave a +deal o' patience an' a deal o' pity for they poor starveling sinners +wot gits boxed up in cities an' never ain't got no room to look at +the sky, or see the wide fields with all the daisies blowin' open to +the sun. No wonder they're so took up wi' their scinetific muddlins +over worms an' microbes an' sich-like, as to 'ave forgot what the +Almighty is doin' in the workin' o' the Universe,--but it's onny +jest like poor prisiners in a cell wot walks up an' down, up an' +down, countin' the stones in the wall with scinetific +multiplication-like, an' 'splainin' to their poor lonely selves as +how many stones makes a square foot, an' so many square feet makes a +square yard, an' on they goes a-walkin' their mis'able little round +an' countin' their mis'able little sums, an' all the time just +outside the prison the flowers is all bloomin' wild an' the birds +singin', an' the blue sky over it all with God smilin' behind it. +That's 'ow 'tis, Mr. Bennett!" and Bainton looked into the lining of +his cap as was his wont before he put it on his head--"I believe all +you say right enough, an' it don't put me out nohow--I've seen too +much o' natur to be shook off my 'old on the Almighty--for there's +no worm wot ain't sure of a rose or some kind o' flower an' fruit +somewhere, though m'appen the poor blind thing don't know where to +find it. It's case o' leadin' on, an' guidin' beyond our knowledge, +Mr. Bennett,--an' that's wot Passon Walden tells us. HE don't bother +us wi' no 'hows' nor 'whys' nor 'wherefores'--he says we can FEEL +God with us in our daily work, an' so we can, if we've a mind to! +Daily work and common things shows Him to us,--why look there!"-- +here he pulled from his pocket a small paper-bag, and opening it, +showed some dry loose seed--"There ain't nothin' commoner than that! +That's pansy seed--a special stock too,--well now, if you didn't +know how common it is, wouldn't it seem a miracle as wonderful as +any in the Testymen, that out o' that handful o' dust like, the +finest flowers of purple an' yellow will come?--ay! some o' them two +to three inches across, an' every petal like velvet an' silk! If so +be you don't b'lieve in a God, Mr. Bennett, owin' to town opinions, +you try the gardenin' business! That'll make a man of ye! I allus +sez if Adam had stuck to the gardenin' business an' left the +tailorin' trade alone we'd have all been in Eden now!" + +His eyes twinkled, as glancing round the company, he saw that his +words had made an impression and awakened a responsive smile--"Good- +night t'ye!" And touching Bennett on the shoulder in passing, he +added: "You come an' see me, my lad, when you feels like goin' a bit +in the scinetific line! Mebbe I can tell ye a few pints wot the +learned gentlemen in London don't know. Anyway, a little church- +goin' under Passon Walden won't do you no 'arm, nor your lady +neither, if she's what I takes her for, which is believin' her to be +all good as wimmin goes. An' when Passon warms to his work an' tells +ye plain as 'ow everything's ordained for the best, an' as 'ow every +flower's a miracle of the Lord, an' every bird's song a bit o' the +Lord's own special music, it 'eartens ye up an' makes ye more +'opeful o' your own poor mis'able self--it do reely now!" + +With another friendly pat on the groom's shoulder, and a cheery +smile, Bainton passed out, and left the rest of the company in the +'Mother Huff' tap-room solemnly gazing upon one another. + +"He speaks straight, he do," said Farmer Thorpe, "An' he ain't no +canter,--he's just plain Tummas, an' wot he sez he means." + +"Here's to his 'elth,--a game old boy!" said Bennett good- +humouredly, ordering another glass of ale; "It's quite a treat to +meet a man like him, and I shan't be above owning that he's got a +deal of right on his side. But what he says ain't Orthodox Church +teaching." + +"Mebbe not," said Dan Kidley, "but it's Passon Walden's teachin', +an' if you ain't 'eard Passon yet, Mister Bennett, I'd advise ye to +go next Sunday. An' if your lady 'ud make up her mind to go too just +for once---" + +Bennett gave an expressive gesture. + +"She won't go--you may depend on that!" he said; "She's had too much +of parsons as it is. Why Mrs. Fred--that's her American aunt--was +regular pestered with 'em coming beggin' of her for their churches +and their windows and their schools and their infants and their +poor, lame, blind, sick of all sorts, as well as for theirselves. +D'rectly they knew she was a millionaire lady' they 'adn't got but +one thought--how to get some of the millions out of her. There was +three secretaries kept when we was in London, and they'd hardly time +for bite nor sup with all the work they 'ad, refusin' scores of +churches and religious folks all together. Miss Maryllia's got a +complete scare o' parsons. Whenever she see a shovel-hat coming she +just flew! When she was in Paris it was the Catholics as wanted +money--nuns, sisters of the poor, priests as 'ad been turned out by +the Government,--and what not,--and out in America it was the +Christian Scientists all the time with such a lot of tickets for +lectures and fal-lals as you never saw,--then came the +Spiritooalists with their seeances; and altogether the Vancourt +family got to look on all sorts of religions merely as so many kinds +of beggin' boxes which if you dropped money into, you went straight +to the Holy-holies, and if you didn't you dropped down into the +great big D's. No!--I don't think anyone need expect to see my lady +at church--it's the last place she'd ever think of going to!" + +This piece of information was received by his hearers with profound +gravity. No one spoke, and during the uncomfortable pause Bennett +gave a careless 'Good-night!'--and took his departure. + +"Things is come to a pretty pass in this 'ere country," then said +Mr. Netlips grandiosely, "when the woman who is merely the elevation +of the man, exhibits in public a conviction to which her status is +unfitted. If the lady who now possesses the Manor were under the +submission of a husband, he would naturally assume the control which +is govemmentally retaliative and so compel her to include the +religious considerations of the minority in her communicative +system!" + +Farmer Thorpe looked impressed, but slightly puzzled. + +"You sez fine, Mr. Netlips,--you sez fine," he observed +respectfully. "Not that I altogether understands ye, but that's onny +my want of book-larnin' and not spellin' through the dictionary as I +oughter when I was a youngster. Howsomever I makes bold to guess wot +you're drivin' at and I dessay you may be right. But I'm fair bound +to own that if it worn't for Mr. Walden, I shouldn't be found in +church o' Sundays neither, but lyin' flat on my back in a field wi' +my face turned up to the sun, a-thinkin' of the goodness o' God, and +hopin' He'd put a hand out to 'elp make the crops grow as they +should do. Onny Passon he be a rare good man, and he do speak to the +'art of ye so wise-like and quiet, and that's why I goes to hear him +and sez the prayers wot's writ for me to say and doos as he asks me +to do. But if I'd been unfort'nit enough to live in the parish of +Badsworth under that old liar Leveson, I'd a put my fist in his +jelly face 'fore I'd a listened to a word he had to say! Them's my +sentiments, mates!--and you can read 'em how you like, Mr. Netlips. +God's in heaven we know,--but there's onny churches on earth, an' we +'as to make sure whether there's men or devils inside of 'em 'fore +we goes kneelin' and grubbin' in front of 'uman idols--Good-night +t'ye!" + +With these somewhat disjointed remarks Farmer Thorpe strode out of +the tap-room, whistling loudly to his dog as he reached the door. +The heavy tramp of his departing feet echoed along the outside lane +and died away, and Roger Buggins, glancing at the sheep-faced clock +in the bar, opined that it was 'near closin' hour.' All the company +rose and began to take their leave. + +"Church or no church, Miss Vancourt's a real lady!" declared Dan +Bidley emphatically--"She may have her reasons, an' good ones too, +for not attending service, but she ain't no heathen, I'm sartin' +sure o' that." + +"You cannot argumentarially be sure of what you do not know," said +Mr. Netlips, with a tight smile, buttoning on his overcoat--"A +heathen is a proscription of the law, and cannot enjoy the rights of +the commons." + +Dan stared. + +"There ain't no proscription of the law in stayin' away from +church," he said--"Nobody's bound to go. Lords nor commons can't +compel us." + +Mr. Netlips shook his head and frowned darkly, with the air of one +who could unveil a great mystery if he chose. + +"Compulsion is a legal community," he said--"And while powerless to +bring affluence to the Christian conscience, it culminates in the +citizenship of the heathen. Miss Vancourt, as her father's daughter, +should be represented by the baptized spirit, and not by the +afflatus of the ungenerate! Good-night!" + +Still puckering his brow into lines of mysterious suggestiveness, +the learned Netlips went his way, Roger Buggins gazing after him +admiringly. + +"That man's reg'lar lost down 'ere,"--he observed--"He oughter ha' +been in Parliament." + +"Ah, so he ought!" agreed Dan Ridley--"Where's there's fog he'd a +made it foggier, and where's there's no understandin' he'd a made it +less understandable. I daresay he'd a bin Prime Minister in no time- +-he's just the sort. They likes a good old muddler for that work-- +someone as has the knack o' addlin' the people's brains an' makin' +them see a straight line as though'twere crooked. It keeps things +quiet an' yet worrity-like--first up, then down--this way, then that +way, an' never nothin' certain, but plenty o' big words rantin' +round. That's Netlips all over,--it's in the shape of his 'ed,--he +was born like it. I don't like his style myself,--but he'd make a +grand cab-nit minister!" + +"Ay, so he would!" acquiesced Buggins, as he drew the little red +curtains across the windows of the tap-room and extinguished the +hanging lamp--"Easy rest ye, Dan!" + +"Same to you, Mr. Buggins!" responded the tailor cheerfully, as he +turned out into the cool sweet dimness of the hawthorn-hedged lane +in which the 'Mother Huff' stood--"I make bold to say that church or +no church, Miss Vancourt's bein' at her own 'ouse 'ull be a gain an' +a blessing to the village." + +"Mebbe so," returned Buggins laconically,--and closing his door he +barred it across for the night, while Dan Ridley, full of the half- +poetic, half philosophic thoughts which the subjects of religion and +religious worship frequently excite in a more or less untutored +rustic mind, trudged slowly homeward. + +During these days, Maryllia herself, unconscious of the remarks +passed upon her as the lady of the Manor by her village neighbours, +had not been idle, nor had she suffered much from depression of +spirits, though, socially speaking, she was having what she +privately considered in her own mind 'rather a dull time.' To begin +with, everybody in the neighbourhood that was anybody in the +neighbourhood, had called upon her,--and the antique oaken table in +the great hall was littered with a snowy array of variously shaped +bits of pasteboard, bearing names small and great,--names of old +county families,--names of new mushroom gentry,--names of clergymen +and their wives in profusion, and one or two modest cards with the +plain 'Mr.' of the only young bachelors anywhere near for fifteen +miles round. Nearly every man had a wife--"Such a pity!" commented +Maryllia, when noting the fact--"One can never ask any of them to +dinner without their dragons!" + +Most of the callers had paid their 'duty visits' at a time of the +afternoon when she was always out,--roaming over her own woods and +fields, and 'taking stock' as she said, of her own possessions,--but +on one or two occasions she had been caught 'in,' and this was the +case when Sir Morton Pippitt, accompanied by his daughter Tabitha, +Mr. Julian Adderley, and Mr. Marius Longford were announced just at +the apt and fitting hour of 'five-o'clock tea.' Rising from the +chair where she had negligently thrown herself to read for a quiet +half hour, she set aside her book, and received those important +personages with the careless ease and amiable indifference which was +a 'manner familiar' to her, and which invariably succeeded in making +less graceful persons than she was, feel wretchedly awkward and +unhappy about the management of their hands and feet. With a smiling +upward and downward glance, she mastered Sir Morton Pippitt's +'striking and jovial personality,'--his stiffly-carried upright +form, large lower chest, close-shaven red face, and pleasantly clean +white hair,--"The very picture of a Bone-Melter"--she thought--"He +looks as if he had been boiled all over himself--quite a nice well- +washed old man,"--her observant eyes flashed over the attenuated +form of Julian Adderley with a sparkle of humour,--she noticed the +careful carelessness of his attire, the artistic 'set' of his ruddy +locks, the eccentric cut of his trousers, and the, to himself, +peculiar knot of his tie. + +"The poor thing wants to be something out of the common and can't +quite manage it," she mentally decided, while she viewed with +extreme disfavour the feline elegance affected by Mr. Marius +Longford, and the sleek smile, practised by him 'for women only,' +with which he blandly admitted her existence. To Miss Tabitha Pippit +she offered a chair of capacious dimensions, amply provided with +large down cushons, inviting her to sit down in it with a gentleness +which implied kindly consideration for her years and for the fatigue +she might possibly experience as a result of the drive over from +Badsworth Hall,--whereat the severe spinster's chronically red nose +reddened more visibly, and between her thin lips she sharply +enunciated her preference for 'a higher seat,--no cushions, thank +you!' Thereupon she selected the 'higher seat' for herself, in the +shape of an old-fashioned music-stool, without back or arm-rest, and +sat stiffly upon it like a draper's clothed dummy put up in a window +for public inspection. Maryllia smiled,--she knew that kind of woman +well;--and paying only the most casual attention to her for the rest +of the time, returned to her own place by the open windows and began +to dispense the tea, while Sir Morton Pippitt opened conversation by +feigning to recall having met her some two or three years back. He +was not altogether in the best of humours, the sight of his recently +dismissed butler, Primmins, having upset his nerves. He knew how +servants 'talked.' Who could tell what Primmins might not say in his +new situation at Abbot's Manor, of his former experiences at +Badsworth Hall? And so it was with a somewhat heated countenance +that Sir Morton endeavoured to allude to a former acquaintance with +his hostess at a Foreign Office function. + +"Oh no, I don't think so," said Maryllia, lazily dropping lumps of +sugar into the tea-cups--"Do you take sugar? I ought to ask, I +know,--such a number of men have the gout nowadays, and they take +saccharine. I haven't any saccharine,--so sorry! You do like sugar, +Mr. Adderley? How nice of you!" And she smiled. "None for you, Mr. +Longford? I thought not. You, Miss Pippitt? No! Everybody else, yes? +That's all right! The Foreign Office? I think not, Sir Morton,--I +gave up going there long ago when I was quite young. My aunt, Mrs. +Fred Vancourt, always went--you must have met her and taken her for +me, I always hated a Foreign Office 'crush.' Such big receptions +bore one terribly--you never see anybody you really want to know, +and the Prime Minister always looks tired to death. His face is a +study in several agonies. Two or three years ago? Oh no,--I don't +think I was in London at that time. And you were there, were you? +Really!" + +She handed a cup of tea with a bewitching smile and a 'Will you +kindly pass it?' to Julian Adderley, who so impetuously accepted the +task she imposed upon him of acting as general waiter to the +company, that in hastening towards her he caught his foot in the +trailing laces of her gown and nearly fell over the tea-tray. + +"A thousand pardons!" he murmured, righting himself with an effort-- +"So clumsy of me!" + +"Don't mention it!" said Maryllia, placidly--"Will you hand bread- +and-butter to Miss Pippitt, Do you take hot cake, Sir Morton?" + +Sir Morton's face had become considerably redder during this +interval, and, as he spread his handkerchief out on one knee to +receive the possible dribblings of tea from the cup he had begun to +sip at somewhat noisily, he looked as he certainly felt, rather at a +loss what next to say. He was not long in this state of indecision, +however, for a bright idea occurred to him, causing a smile to +spread among his loose cheek-wrinkles. + +"I'm sorry my friend the Duke of Lumpton has left me," he said with +unctuous pomp. "He would have been delighted--er--delighted to call +with me to-day--" + +"Who is he?" enquired Maryllia, languidly. + +Again Sir Morton reddened, but managed to conceal his discomfiture +in a fat laugh. + +"Well, my dear lady, he is Lumpton!--that is enough for him, and for +most people--" + +"Really?--Oh--well--of course!--I suppose so!" interrupted Maryllia, +with an expressive smile, which caused Miss Tabitha's angular form, +perched as it was on the high music-stool, to quiver with spite, and +moved Miss Tabitha's neatly gloved fingers to clench like a cat's +claws in their kid sheaths with an insane desire to scratch the fair +face on which that smile was reflected. + +"He is a charming fellow, the Duke-charming-charming!" went on Sir +Morton, unconscious of the complex workings of thought in his +elderly daughter's acidulated brain! "And his great 'chum,' Lord +Mawdenham, has also been staying with us--but they left Badsworth +yesterday, I'm sorry to say. They travelled up to London with Lady +Elizabeth Messing, who paid us a visit of two or three days--" + +"Lady Elizabeth Messing!" echoed Maryllia, with a sudden ripple of +laughter--"Dear me! Did you have her staying with you? How very nice +of you! She is such a terror!" + +Mr. Marius Longford stroked one of his pussy-cat whiskers +thoughtfully, and put in his word. + +"Lady Elizabeth spoke of you, Miss Vancourt, several times," he +said. "In fact"--and he smiled--"she had a good deal to say! She +remembers meeting you in Paris, and--if I mistake not--also at +Homburg on one occasion. She was surprised to hear you were coming +to live in this dull country place--she said it would never suit you +at all--you were altogether too brilliant--er--" he bowed--" and er- +-charming!" This complimentary phrase was spoken with the air of a +beneficent paterfamilias giving a child a bon-bon. + +Maryllia's glance swept over him carelessly. + +"Much obliged to her, I'm sure!" she said--"I can quite imagine the +anxiety she felt concerning me! So good of her! Is she a great +friend of yours?" + +Mr. Longford looked slightly disconcerted. + +"Well, no," he replied--"I have only during these last few days-- +through Sir Morton--had the pleasure of her acquaintance--" + +"Mr. Longford is not a 'society' man!" said Sir Morton, with a +chuckle--"He lives on the heights of Parnassus--and looks down with +scorn on the browsing sheep in the valleys below! He is a great +author!" + +"Indeed!" and Maryllia raised her delicately arched eyebrows with a +faint movement of polite surprise--"But all authors are great +nowadays, aren't they? There are no little ones left." + +"Oh, yes, indeed, and alas, there are!" exclaimed Julian Adderley, +flourishing his emptied tea-cup in the air before setting it back in +its saucer and depositing the whole on a table before him; "I am one +of them, Miss Vancourt! Pray be merciful to me!" + +The absurd attitude of appeal he assumed moved Maryllia to a laugh. + +"Well, when you look like that I guess I will!" she said playfully, +not without a sense of liking for the quaint human creature who so +willingly made himself ridiculous without being conscious of it-- +"What is your line in the small way?" + +"Verse!" he replied, with tragic emphasis--"Verse which nobody +reads--verse which nobody wants--verse which whenever it struggles +into publication, my erudite friend here, Mr. Longford, batters into +pulp with a sledge-hammer review of half-a-dozen lines in the +heavier magazines. Verse, my dear Miss Vancourt!--verse written to +please myself, though its results do not feed myself. But what +matter! I am happy! This village of St. Rest, for example, has +exercised a spell of enchantment over me. It has soothed my soul! So +much so, that I have taken a cottage in a wood--how melodious that +sounds!--at the modest rent of a pound a week. That much I can +afford,--that much I will risk--and on the air, the water, the nuts, +the berries, the fruits, the flowers, I will live like a primaeval +man, and let the baser world go by!" He ran his fingers through his +long hair. "It will be an experience! So new--so fresh!" + +Miss Tabitha sniffed sarcastically, and gave a short, hard laugh. + +"I hope you'll enjoy yourself!" she said tartly--"But you'll soon +tire. I told you at once when you said you had decided to spend the +summer in this neighbourhood that you'd regret it. You'll find it +very dull." + +"Oh, I don't think he will!" murmured Maryllia graciously; "He will +be writing poetry all the time, you see! Besides, with you and Sir +Morton as neighbours, how CAN he feel dull? Won't you have some more +tea?" + +"No, thank you!" and Miss Pippitt rose,--"Father, we must be going. +You have not yet explained to Miss Vancourt the object of our +visit." + +"True, true!" and Sir Morton got out of his chair with some +difficulty--"Time flies fast in such fascinating company!" and he +smiled beamingly--"We came, my dear lady, to ask you to dine with us +on Thursday next at Badsworth Hall." No words could convey the +pomposity which Sir Morton managed to infuse into this simple +sentence. To dine at Badsworth was, or ought to be, according to his +idea, the utmost height of human bliss and ambition. "We will invite +some of our most distinguished neighbours to meet you,--there are a +few of the old stock left--" this as if he were of the 'old stock' +himself;--"I knew your father--poor fellow!--and of course I +remember seeing you as a child, though you don't remember me--ha- +ha!--but I shall be delighted to welcome you under my roof--" + +"Thanks so much!" said Maryllia, demurely--"But please let it be for +another time, will you? I haven't a single evening disengaged +between this and the end of June! So sorry! I'll come over to tea +some day, with pleasure! I know Badsworth. Dear old place!--quite +famous too, once in the bygone days--almost as famous as Abbot's +Manor itself. Let me see!" and she looked up at the ceiling +musingly--"There was a Badsworth who fought against the +Commonwealth,--and there was another who was Prime Minister or +something of that kind,--then there was a Sir Thomas Badsworth who +wrote books--and another who did some wonderful service for King +James the First--yes, and there were some lovely women in the +family, too--I suppose their portraits are all there? Yes--I thought +so!"--this as Sir Morton nodded a blandly possessive affirmative-- +"How things change, don't they? Poor old Badsworth! So funny to +think you live there! Oh, yes! I'll come over--certainly I'll come +over,--some day!" + +Thus murmuring polite platitudes, Maryllia bade her visitors adieu. +Sir Morton conquered an inclination to gasp for breath and say +'Damn!' at the young lady's careless refusal of his invitation to +dinner,--Miss Tabitha secretly rejoiced. + +"I'm sure I don't want her at Badsworth," she said within herself, +viciously--"Nasty little insolent conceited thing! I believe her +hair is dyed, and her complexion put on! A regular play-actress!" + +Unconscious of the spinster's amiable thoughts, Maryllia was holding +out a hand to her. + +"Good-bye!" she said--"So kind of you to come and see me! I'm sure +you think I must be lonely here. But I'm not, really! I don't think +I ever shall be,--because as soon as I have got the house quite in +order, I am going to ask a great many friends to stay with me in +turn. They will enjoy seeing the old place, and country air is such +a boon to London people! Good-bye!"--and here she turned to Marius +Longford--"I'm afraid I haven't read any of your books!--anyway I +expect they would be too deep for me. Wouldn't they?" + +"Lord Roxmouth has been good enough to express his liking for my +poor efforts," he replied, with a slight covert smile--"I believe +you know him?" + +"Oh, quite well--quite too well!" said Maryllia, without any +discomposure--"But what he likes, I always detest. Unfortunate, +isn't it! So I mustn't even try to read your works! You, Mr. +Adderley"--and she laughingly looked up at that gentleman, who, hat +in hand, was pensively drooping in a farewell attitude before her,-- +"you are going to stop here all summer, aren't you? And in a +cottage! How delightful! Anywhere near the Manor?" + +"I am not so happy as to have found a domicile on this side Eden!" +murmured Adderley, with a languishing look--"My humble hut is set +some distance apart,--about a mile beyond the rectory." + +"Then your best neighbour will be the parson," said Maryllia, gaily- +-"So improving to your morals!" + +"Possibly--possibly! "assented Adderley--" Mr. Walden is not exactly +like other parsons,--there is something wonderfully attractive about +him--" + +"Something wonderfully conceited and unbearable, you mean!" snapped +out Sir Morton--"Come, come!--we must be off! The horses are at the +door,--can't keep them standing! Miss Vancourt doesn't want to hear +anything about the parson. She'll find him out soon enough for +herself. He's an upstart, my dear lady--take my word for it!--a +pretentious University prig and upstart! You'll never meet HIM at +Badsworth!--ha-ha-ha! Never! Sorry you can't dine on Thursday! Never +mind, never mind! Another time! Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye!" and with a slight further exchange of salutations +Maryllia found herself relieved of her visitors. Of all the four, +Adderley alone looked back with a half-appealing smile, and received +an encouraging little nod for his pains--a nod which said 'Yes--you +can come again if you like!' The wheels of the Pippitt equipage +crunched heavily down the drive, and as the grating sound died away, +clear on the quiet air came the soft slow chime of the church-bells +ringing. It was near sunset,--and Walden sometimes held a short +simple service of evening prayer at that hour. Leaning against the +open window Maryllia listened. + +"How pretty it is!" she said--"It must be the nearness of the river +that makes the tone of the bells so soft and mellow! Oh, what an +insufferable old snob that Pippitt is! And what a precious crew of +'friends' he boasts of! Lumpton, who, when he was a few years +younger, danced the skirt-dance in women's clothes for forty pounds +a night at a New York restaurant!--Mawdenham, who pawned all his +mother's jewels to pay his losses at Bridge--and Lady Elizabeth +Messing, who is such an abandoned old creature that her own married +daughters won't know her! Oh, dear! And I believe the Knighted Bone- +Boiler thinks they are quite good style! That literary man, +Longford, was a most unprepossessing looking object,--a friend of +Roxmouth's too, which makes him all the more unpleasant. And of +course he will at once write off and say he has seen me. And then-- +and then-dear me! I wonder where Sir Morton picks these people up! +He doesn't like the parson here evidently--'a pretentious University +prig and upstart'--what a strong way of putting it!--very strong for +such a clean-looking old man! 'A pretentious University prig and +upstart' are you, Mr. Walden!" Here, smiling to herself, she moved +out into the garden and called her dog to her side--"Do you hear +that, Plato? Our next-door neighbour is a prig as well as a parson!- +-isn't it dreadful!" Plato looked up at her with great loving brown +eyes and wagged his plumy tail. "I believe he is,--and yet--yet all +the same, I think--yes!--I think, as soon as a convenient +opportunity presents itself, I'll ask him to dinner." + + + + +XIII + + +The next day Maryllia was up betimes, and directly after breakfast +she sent for Mrs. Spruce. That good lady, moved by the summons into +sudden trepidation, lest some duty had been forgotten, or some +clause of the household 'rules and regulations' left unfulfilled, +hastened to the inner library, a small octagonal room communicating +with the larger apartment, and there found her mistress sitting on a +low stool, with her lap full of visiting-cards which she was busily +sorting. + +"Spruce!" and she looked up from her occupation with a mock tragic +air--"I'm dull! Positively D U double L! DULL!" + +Mrs. Spruce stared,--but merely said: + +"Lor, Miss!" and folded her hands on her apron, awaiting the next +word. + +"I'm dull, dull, dull!" repeated Maryllia, springing up and tossing +all the cards into a wide wicker basket near at hand--"I don't know +what to do with myself, Spruce! I've got nobody to talk to, nobody +to play with, nobody to sing to, nobody to amuse me at all, at all! +I've seen everything inside and outside the Manor,--I've visited the +church,--I know the village--I've talked to dear old Josey +Letherbarrow till he must be just tired of me,--he's certainly the +cleverest man in the place,--and yesterday the Pippitts came and +finished me. I'm done! I throw up the sponge!--that's slang, Spruce! +There's nobody to see, nowhere to go, nothing to do. It's awful! +'The time is out of joint, O cursed spite!' That's Hamlet. Something +must HAPPEN, Spruce!"--and here she executed a playful pas-seul +around the old housekeeper--"There! Isn't that pretty? Don't look so +astonished!--you'll see ever so much worse than that by and bye! I +am going to have company. I am, really! I shall fill the house! Get +all the beds aired, and all the bedrooms swept out! I shall ask +heaps of people,--all the baddest, maddest folks I can find! I want +to be bad and mad myself! There's nobody bad or mad enough to keep +me going down here. Look at these!" And she raked among the +visiting-cards and selected a few. "Listen!--'Miss Ittlethwaite, +Miss Agnes Ittlethwaite, Miss Barbara Ittlethwaite, Miss Christina +Ittlethwaite, Ittlethwaite Park.' It makes my tongue all rough and +funny to read their names! They've called,--and I suppose I shall +have to call back, but I don't want to. What's the good? I'm sure I +never shall get on with the Ittlethwaites,--we shall never, never +agree! Do you know them, Spruce? Who are they?" + +Mrs. Spruce drew a long breath, rolled up her eyes, and began: + +"Which the Misses Ittlethwaite is a county fam'ly, Miss, livin' some +seven or eight miles from here as proud as proud, owin' to their +forebears 'avin' sworn death on Magnum Chartus for servin' of King +John--an' Miss Ittlethwaite proper, she be gettin' on in years, but +she's a great huntin' lady, an' come November is allus to be seen +follerin' the 'ounds, stickin' to the saddle wonderful for 'er size +an' time o' life, an' Miss Barbara, she doos a lot o' sick visitin', +an' Bible readin', not 'ere, for our people won't stand it, an' +Passon Walden ain't great on breakin' into private 'ouses without +owners' consents for Bible readin', but she, she's 'Igh, an' tramps +into Riversford near every day which the carrier's cart brings 'er +'ome to 'er own place they 'avin' given up a kerridge owin' to +spekylation in railways, an' Miss Hagnes she works lovely with 'er +needle, an' makes altar cloths an' vestis for Mr. Francis Anthony, +the 'Igh Church clergyman at Riversford, he not bein' married, +though myself I should say there worn't no chance for 'er, bein' +frightful skinny an' a bit off in 'er looks--an' Miss Christina she +do still play at bein' a baby like, she's the youngest, an' over +forty, yet quite a giddy in 'er way, wearin' ribbins round her +waist, an' if 'twarn't for 'er cheeks droppin' in long like, she +wouldn't look so bad, but they're all that proud--" + +"That'll do, Spruce, that'll do!" cried Maryllia, putting her hands +to her ears--"No more Ittlethwaites, please, for the present! +Sufficient for the day is the Magnum Chartus thereof! Who comes +here?" and she read from another card,--"'Mrs. Mordaunt Appleby.' +Also a smaller label which says, 'Mr. Mordaunt Appleby'! More county +family pride or what?" + +"Oh lor' no, Miss, Mordaunt Appleby's only the brewer of +Riversford," said Mrs. Spruce, casually. "He's got the biggest 'ouse +in the town, but people remembers 'im when he was a very shabby lot +indeed,-an awful shabby lot. HE ain't nobody, Miss-he's just got a +bit o' money which makes the commoner sort wag tails for 'im, but +it's like his cheek to call 'ere at all. Sir Morton Pippitt, bein' +in. the bone-meltin' line, as 'im up to dine now an' agin, just to +keep in with 'im like, for he's a nasty temper, an' his wife's got +the longest and spitefullest tongue in all the neighbourhood. But +you needn't take up wi' them, Miss-they ain't in your line,-which +some brewers is gentlemen, an' Appleby ain't--YOUR Pa wouldn't never +know HIS Pa." + +"Then that's settled!" said Maryllia, with a sigh of relief. +"Depart, Mordaunt Applebys into the limbo of forgotten callers!"-and +she tossed the cards aside-"Here are the Pippitt names,-I small +remember them all right-Pip-pitt and Ittlethwaite have a tendency to +raise blisters of memory on the brain. What is this neat looking +little bit of pasteboard-' The Rev. John Walden.' Yes!-he called two +or three days ago when I was out." + +Mrs. Spruce sniffed a sniff of meaning, but said nothing. + +"I've not been to church yet"-went on Maryllia medi-tatively. "I +dare say he thinks me quite a dreadful person. But I hate going to +church,-it's so stupid-so boresome-and oh!-such a waste of time!" + +Mrs. Spruce still held her peace. Maryllia gave her a little side- +glance and noted a certain wistfulness and wonder in the rosy, +wrinkled face which was not without its own pathos. + +"I suppose everybody about here goes to church at least Once on +Sundays," pursued Maryllia-"Don't they?" + +"Them as likes Mr. Walden goes," answered Mrs. Spruce promptly-"Then +as don't stops away. Sir Morton Pippitt used allus to attend 'ere +reg'ler when the buildin' was nowt but ruin, an' 'e 'ad a tin roof +put over it,-'e was that proud o' the tin roof you'd a' thought +'twas made o' pure gold, an' he was just wild when Mr. Walden pulled +it all off an' built up the walls an' roof again as they should be +all at 'is own expense, an' he went away from the place for sheer +spite like, an' stayed abroad a whole year, an' when 'e come back +again 'e never wouldn't go nigh it, an' now 'e attends service at +Badsworth Church,-Badsworth Barn we calls it,-for'tain't nowt but a +barn which Mr. Leveson keeps 'Igh as 'Igh with a bit o' tinsel an' +six candles, though it's the mis'ablest place ye ever set eyes on, +an' 'e do look a caution 'isself with what 'e calls a vestiment +'angin' down over 'is back, which is a baek as fat as porpuses, the +Lord forgive me for sayin.' it, but Sir Morton 'e be that set +against Mr. Walden he'll rather say 'is prayers in a pig-stye with a +pig for the minister than in our church, since it's been all +restored an' conskrated--then, as I told you just now, Miss, the +Ittlethwaites goes to Riversford where they gits opratick music with +the 'Lord be merciful to us mis'able sinners'--an' percessions with +candles,--so our church is mostly filled wi' the village folks, +farmer bodies an' sich-like,--there ain't no grand people what +comes, though we don't miss 'em, for Passon 'e don't let us want for +nothin' an' when there's a man out o' work, or a woman sick, or a +child what's pulin' a bit, an' ricketty, he's alhis ready to 'elp, +with all 'e 'as an' welcome, payin' doctor's fees often,--an' takin' +all the medicine bills on 'isself besides. Ah, 'e's a rare good sort +is Passon Walden, an' so you'd say yerself, Miss, if ever you took +on your mind to go and hear 'im preach, an' studied 'is ways for a +bit as 'twere an' asked 'bout 'im in the village, for 'e's fair an' +open as the day an' ain't got no sly, sneaky tricks in 'im,--he's +just a man, an' a good one--an' that's as rare a thing to find in +this world as a di'mond in a wash-tub, an' makin' so bold, Miss, if +you'd onny go to church next Sunday---" + +Maryllia interrupted her by a little gesture. + +"I can't, Spruce!" she said, but with great gentleness--"I know it's +the right and proper thing for me to do in the country if I wish to +stand well with my neighbours,-but I can't! I don't believe in it,-- +and I won't pretend that I believe!" + +Poor Mrs. Spruce felt a sudden choking in her throat, and her +motherly face grew red and pale by turns. Miss Maryllia, the old +squire's daughter, was--what? A heathen?--an unbeliever--an atheist? +Oh, surely it was not possible--it could not be!--she would not +accept the idea that a creature so dainty and pretty, so fair and +winsome, could be cast adrift on the darkness of life without any +trust in the saving grace of the Christian Faith! Limited as were +Mrs. Spruce's powers of intelligence, she was conscious enough that +there would be something sweet and strong lost out of the world, +which nothing could replace, were the message of Christ withdrawn +from it. The perplexity of her thoughts was reflected on her +countenance and Maryllia, watching her, smiled a little sadly. + +"You mustn't think I don't believe in God, Spruce,"--she said +slowly--"I do! But I can't agree with all the churches teach about +Him. They make Him out to be a cruel, jealous and revengeful Being-- +-" + +"Mr. Walden don't---," put in Mrs. Spruce, quickly. + +"And I like to think of Him as all love and pity and goodness," went +on Maryllia, not heeding her--"and I don't say prayers, because I +think He knows what is best for me without my asking. Do you +understand? So it's really no use my going to church, unless just +out of curiosity--and perhaps I will some day do that,--I'll see +about it! But I must know Mr. Walden a little better first,--I must +find out for myself what kind of a man he is, before I make up my +mind to endure such a martyrdom as listening to a sermon! I simply +loathe sermons! I suppose I must have had too many of them when I +was a child. Surely you remember, Spruce, that I used to be taken +into Riversford to church?" Mrs. Spruce nodded emphatically in the +affirmative. "Yes!--because when father was alive the church here +was only a ruin. And I used to go to sleep over the sermons always-- +and once I fell off my seat and had to be carried out. It was +dreadful! Now Uncle Fred never went to church,--nor Aunt Emily. So +I've quite got out of the way of going--nobody is very particular +about it in Paris or London, you see. But perhaps I'll try and hear +Mr. Walden preach--just once--and I'll tell you then what I think +about it. I'll put his card on the mantelpiece to remind me!" + +And she suited the action to the word, Mrs. Spruce gazing at her in +a kind of mild stupefaction. It seemed such a very odd thing to +stick up a clergyman's card as a reminder to go to church 'just +once' some Sunday. + +Meanwhile Maryllia continued, "Now, Spruce, you must begin to be +busy! You must prepare the Manor for the reception of all sorts of +people, small and great. I feel that the time has come for 'company, +company!' And in the first place I'm going to send for Cicely +Bourne,--she's my pet 'genius'--and I'm paying the cost of her +musical education in Paris. She's an orphan--like me--she's all +alone in the world--like me;--and we're devoted to each other. She's +only a child--just over fourteen--but she's simply a wonder!--the +most wonderful musical wonder in the world!--and she has a perfectly +marvellous voice. Her master Gigue says that when she is sixteen she +will have emperors at her feet! Emperors! There are only a few,--but +they'll all be grovelling in the dust before her! You must prepare +some pretty rooms for her, Spruce, those two at the top of the house +that look right over the lawn and woods--and make everything as cosy +as you can. I'll put the finishing touches. And I must send to +London for a grand piano. There's only the dear old spinet in the +drawing-room,--it's sweet to sing to, and Cicely will love it,--but +she must have a glorious 'grand' as well. I shall wire to her to- +day,--I know she'll come at once. She will arrive direct from +Paris,--let me see!"--and she paused meditatively--"when can she +arrive? This is Friday,--yes!--probably she will arrive here Sunday +or Monday morning. So you can get everything ready." + +"Very well, Miss," and Mrs. Spruce, with the usual regulation 'dip' +of respectful submission to her mistress was about to withdraw, when +Maryllia called her back and handed over to her care the wicker +basket full of visiting-cards. + +"Put them all by,"--she said--"When Cicely comes we'll go through +them carefully together, and discuss what to eat, drink and avoid. +Till then, I shall blush unseen, wasting my sweetness on the desert +air! Time enough and to spare for making the acquaintance of the +'county.' Who was it that said: Never know your neighbours'? I +forget,--but he was a wise man, anyway!" + +Mrs. Spruce 'dipped' a second time in silence, and was then allowed +to depart on her various household duties. The good woman's thoughts +were somewhat chaotically jumbled, and most fervently did she long +to send for 'Passon,' her trusted adviser and chief consoler, or +else go to him herself and ask him what he thought concerning the +non-church-going tendencies of her mistress. Was she altogether a +lost sheep? Was there no hope for her entrance into the heavenly +fold? + +"Which I can't and won't believe she's wicked,"--said Mrs. Spruce to +herself--"With that sweet childie face an' eyes she couldn't be! +M'appen 'tis bad example,--'er 'Merican aunt 'avin' no religion as +'twere, an' 'er uncle, Mr. Frederick, was never no great shakes in +'is young days if all the truth was told. Well, well! The Lord 'e +knows 'is own, an' my 'pinion is He ain't a-goin' to do without Miss +Maryllia, for it's allus 'turn again, turn again, why will 'ee die' +sort of thing with Him, an' He don't give out in 'is patience. I'm +glad she's goin' to 'ave a friend to stay with 'er,--that'll do 'er +good and 'earten her up--an' mebbe the friend'll want to go to +church, an' Miss Maryllia 'ull go with her, an' once they listens to +Passon 'twill be all right, for 'is voice do draw you up into a +little bit o' heaven somehow, whether ye likes it or not, an' if +Miss Maryllia once 'ears 'im, she'll be wanting to 'ear 'im again-- +so it's best to leave it all in the Lord's 'ands which makes the +hill straight an' the valleys crooked, an' knows what's good for +both man and beast. Miss Maryllia ain't goin' to miss the Way, the +Truth an' the Life--I'm sartin sure o' that!" + +Thus Mrs. Spruce gravely cogitated, while Maryllia herself, unaware +of the manner in which her immortal destinies were being debated by +the old housekeeper, put on her hat, and ran gaily across the lawn, +her great dog bounding at her side, making for the usual short-cut +across the fields to the village. Arrived there she went straight to +the post-office, a curious little lop-sided half-timbered cottage +with a projecting window, wherein, through the dusty close-latticed +panes could be spied various strange edibles, such as jars of +acidulated drops, toffee, peppermint balls, and barley-sugar-- +likewise one or two stray oranges, some musty-looking cakes, a +handful or so of old nuts, and slabs of chocolate protruding from +shining wrappers of tin-foil,--while a flagrant label of somebody's +'Choice Tea' was suspended over the whole collection, like a flag of +triumph. The owner of this interesting stock-in-trade and the +postmistress of St. Rest, was a quaint-looking little woman, very +rosy, very round, very important in her manner, very brisk and +bright with her eyes, but very slow with her fingers. + +"Which I gets the rheumatiz so bad in my joints," she was wont to +say--"that I often wonders 'ow I knows postage-stamps from telegram- +forms an' register papers from money-orders, an' if you doos them +things wrong Gove'nment never forgives you!" + +"Ah, you'll never get into no trouble with Gove'nment, Missis +Tapple!" her gossips were wont to assure her, "For you be as ezack +as ezack!" + +A compliment which Mrs. Tapple accepted without demur, feeling it to +be no more than her just due. She was, however, in spite of her +'ezack' methods, always a little worried when anything out of the +ordinary occurred, and she began to feel slightly flustered directly +she saw Maryllia swing open her garden gate. She had already, during +the last few days, been at some trouble to decipher various +telegrams which the lady of the Manor had sent down by Primmins for +immediate despatch, such as one to a certain Lord Roxmouth which had +run as follows:--"No time to reply to your letter. In love with pigs +and poultry." + +"It IS 'pigs and poultry,' ain't it?" she had asked anxiously of +Primmins, after studying the message for a considerable time +through, her spectacles. And Primmins, gravely studying it, too, had +replied:-- + +"It is undoubtedly 'pigs and poultry.'" + +"And it IS 'in love' you think?" pursued Mrs. Tapple, with +perplexity furrowing her brow. + +"It is certainly 'in love,'" rejoined Primmins, and the faintest +suggestion of a wink affected his left eyelid. + +Thereupon the telegram was 'sent through' to Riversford on its way +to London, though not without serious misgivings in Mrs. Tapple's +mind as to whether it might not be returned with a 'Gove'nment' +query as to its correctness. And now, when Maryllia herself entered +the office, and said smilingly, "Good-morning! Some foreign +telegram-forms, please!" Mrs. Tapple felt that the hour was come +when her powers of intelligence were about to be tried to the +utmost; and she accordingly began to experience vague qualms of +uneasiness. + +"Foreign telegram-forms, Miss? Is it for Ameriky?" + +"Oh, no!--only for Paris,"--and while the old lady fumbled nervously +in her 'official' drawer, Maryllia glanced around the little +business establishment with amused interest. She had a keen eye for +small details, and she noticed with humorous appreciation Mrs. +Tapple's pink sun-bonnet hanging beside the placarded 'Post Office +Savings Bank' regulations, and a half side of bacon suspended from +the ceiling, apparently for 'curing' purposes, immediately above the +telegraphic apparatus. After a little delay, the required pale +yellow 'Foreign and Colonial' forms were found, and Mrs. Tapple +carefully flattened them out, and set them on her narrow office +counter. + +"Will you have a pencil, or pen and ink, Miss?" she enquired. + +"Pen and ink, please," replied Maryllia; whereat the old +postmistress breathed a sigh of relief. It would be easier to make +out anything at all 'strange and uncommon' in pen and ink than in +pencil-marks which had a trick of 'rubbing.' Leaning lightly against +the counter Maryllia wrote in a clear bold round hand: + + "Miss CICELY BOURNE, + + "17 RUE CROISIE, PARIS. + + "Come to me at once. Shall want you all summer. Have + wired Gigue. Start to-morrow. + + "MARYLLIA VANCOURT." + +She pushed this over to Mrs. Tapple, who thankfully noting that she +was writing another, took time to carefully read and spell over +every word, and mastered it all without difficulty. Meanwhile +Maryllia prepared her second message thus: + + "Louis GIGUE, + + "CONSERVATOIRE, PARIS. + + "Je desire que Cicely passe l'ete avec moi et qu'elle arrive + immediatement. Elle peut tres-bien continuer ses etudes ici. + Vous pouvez suivre, cher maitre, a votre plaisir. + + "MARYLLIA VANCOURT." + +"It's rather long,"--she said thoughtfully, as she finished it. "But +for Gigue it is necessary to explain fully. I hope you can make it +out?" + +Poor Mrs. Tapple quivered with inward agitation as she took the +terrible telegram in hand, and made a brave effort to rise to the +occasion. + +"Yes, Miss," she stammered, "Louis Gigue--G.i.g.u.e., that's right-- +yes--at the Conservatory, Paris." + +"'No, no!" said Maryllia, with a little laugh--"Not Conservatory-- +Conservatoire--TOIRE, t.o.i.r.e., the place where they study music." + +"Oh, yes--I see!" and Mrs. Tapple tried to smile knowingly, as she +fixed her spectacles more firmly on her nose, and began to murmur +slowly--"Je desire, d.e.sire--oh, yes--desire!--que--q.u.e.--Cicely- +-yes that's all right!--passe, an e to pass--yes--now let me wait a +minute; one minute, Miss, if you please!--l'ete--l apostrophe e, +stroke across the e,--t, and e, stroke across the e---" + +Maryllia's eyebrows went up in pretty perplexity. + +"Oh dear, I'm afraid you won't be able to get it right that way!" +she said--"I had better write it in English,--why, here's Mr. +Walden!" This, as she saw the clergyman's tall athletic figure +entering Mrs. Tapple's tiny garden,--"Good-morning, Mr. Walden!" and +as he raised his hat, she smiled graciously--"I want to send off a +French telegram, and I'm afraid it's rather difficult---" + +A glance at Mrs. Tapple explained the rest, and Walden's eyes +twinkled mirthfully. + +"Perhaps _I_ can be of some use, Miss Vancourt," he said. "Shall I +try?" + +Maryllia nodded, and he walked into the little office. + +"Let me send off those telegrams for you, Mrs. Tapple," he said. +"You know you often allow me to amuse myself in that way! I haven't +touched the instrument for a month at least, and am getting quite +out of practice. May I come in?" + +Mrs. Tapple's face shone with relief and gladness. + +"Well now, Mr. Walden, if it isn't a real blessin' that you happened +to look in this mornin'!" she exclaimed--"For now there won't be no +delay,--not but what I knew a bit o' French as a gel, an' I'd 'ave +made my way to spell it out somehow, no matter how slow,--but there! +you're that handy that 'twon't take no time, an' Miss Vancourt will +be sure of her message 'avin' gone straight off from here correct,-- +an' if they makes mistakes at Riversford, 'twon't be my fault!" + +While she thus ran on, Walden was handling the telegraphic +apparatus. His back was turned to Maryllia, but he felt her eyes +upon him,--as indeed they were,--and there was a slight flush of +colour in his bronzed cheeks as he presenty looked round and said: + +"May I have the telegram?" + +"There are two--both for Paris," replied Maryllia, handing him the +filled-up forms--"One is quite easy--in English." "And the other +quite difficult--in French!"--he laughed. "Let me see if I can make +it out correctly." Thereupon he read aloud: "'Louis Gigue, +Conservatoire, Paris. Je desire que Cicely passe l'ete avec moi et +qu'elle arrive immediatement. Elle peut tres-bien continuer ses +etudes ici. Vous pouvez suivre, cher maitre, a votre plaisir.' Is +that right?" + +Maryllia's eyes opened a little more widely,--like blue flowers +wakening to the sun. This country clergyman's pronunciation of +French was perfect,--more perfect than her own trained Parisian +accent. Mrs. Tapple clasped her dumpy red hands in a silent ecstasy +of admiration. 'Passon' knew everything! + +"Is it right?" Walden repeated. + +Maryllia gave a little start. + +"Oh I beg your pardon! Yes--quite right!--thank you ever so much!" + +Click-click-click-click! The telegraphic apparatus was at work, and +the unofficial operator was entirely engrossed in his business. Mrs. +Tapple stood respectfully dumb and motionless, watching him. +Maryllia, leaning against the ledge of the office counter, watched +him, too. She took quiet observation of the well-poised head, +covered with its rich brown-grey waving locks of hair,--the broad +shoulders, the white firm muscular hands that worked the telegraphic +instrument, and she was conscious of the impression of authority, +order, knowledge, and self-possession, which seemed to have come +into the little office with him, and to have created quite a new +atmosphere. Outside, in the small garden, among mignonette and early +flowering sweetpeas, Plato sat on his huge haunches in lion-like +dignity, blinking at the sun,--while Walden's terrier Nebbie +executed absurd but entirely friendly gambols in front of him, now +pouncing down on two forepaws with nose to ground and eyes leering +sideways,--now wagging an excited tail with excessive violence to +demonstrate goodwill and a desire for amity.--and anon giving a +short yelp of suppressed feeling,--to all of which conciliatory +approaches Plato gave no other response than a vast yawn and +meditative stare. + +The monotonous click-click-click continued,--now stopping for a +second, then going on more rapidly again, till Maryllia began to +feel quite unreasonably impatient. She found something irritating at +last in the contemplation of the back of Walden's cranium,--it was +too well-shaped, she decided,--she could discover no fault in it. +Humming a tune carelessly under her breath, she turned towards Mrs. +Tapple's small grocery department, and feigned to be absorbed in an +admiring survey of peppermint balls and toffee. Certain glistening +squares of sticky white substance on a corner shelf commended +themselves to her notice as specimens of stale 'nougat,' wherein the +almonds represented a remote antiquity,--and a mass of stringy +yellow matter laid out in lumps on blue paper and marked 'One Penny +per ounce' claimed attention as a certain 'hardbake' peculiar to St. +Rest, which was best eaten in a highly glutinous condition. A dozen +or so of wrinkled apples which, to judge by their damaged and worn +exteriors, must have been several autumns old, kept melancholy +companionship with assorted packages of the 'Choice Tea' whereof the +label was displayed in the window, and Maryllia was just about +wondering whether she would, or could buy anything out of the musty- +fusty collection, when the click-click-click stopped abruptly, and +Walden stepped forth from the interior 'den' of the post-office. + +"That's all right, Miss Vancourt," he said. "Your telegrams are sent +correctly as far as Riversford anyhow, and there is one operator +there who is acquainted with the French language. Whether they will +transmit correctly from London I shouldn't like to say!--we are a +singular nation, and one of our singularities is that we scorn to +know the language of our nearest neighbours!" + +She smiled up at him,--and as his glance met hers he was taken +aback, as it were, by the pellucid beauty and frank innocence of the +grave dark-blue eyes that shone so serenely into his own. + +"Thank you so very, very much! You have been most kind!" and with a +swift droop of her white eyelids she veiled those seductive 'mirrors +of the soul' beneath a concealing fringe of long golden-brown +lashes--"It's quite a new experience to find a clergyman able and +willing to be a telegraph clerk as well! So useful, isn't it?" + +"In a village like this it is," rejoined Walden, gaily--"And after +all, there's not much use in being a minister unless one can +practically succeed in the art of 'ministering' to every sort of +demand made upon one's capabilities! Even to Miss Vancourt's needs, +should she require anything, from the preservation of trees to the +sending of telegrams, that St. Rest can provide!" + +Again Maryllia glanced at him, and again a little smile lifted the +corners of her mouth. + +"I must pay for the telegrams," she said abruptly--"Mrs. Tapple---" + +"Yes, Miss--I've written it all down," murmured Mrs. Tapple +nervously--"It's right, Mr. Walden, isn't it? If you would be so +good as to look at it, bein' tuppence a word, it do make it +different like, an' m'appen there might be a mistake---" + +Walden glanced over the scrap of paper on which she had scrawled her +rough figures. + +"Fivepence out, I declare, Mrs. Tapple!" he said, merrily. "Dear, +dear! Whatever is going to become of you, eh? To cheat yourself +wouldn't matter--nobody minds THAT--but to do the British Government +out of fivepence would be a dreadful thing! Now if I had not seen +this you would have been what is called 'short' this evening in +making up accounts." Here he handed the corrected paper to Maryllia. +"I think you will find that right." + +Maryllia opened her purse and paid the amount,--and Mrs. Tapple, in +giving her change for a sovereign, included among the coins a bright +new threepenny piece with a hole in it. Spying this little bit of +silver, Maryllia held it up in front of Walden's eyes triumphantly. + +"Luck!" she exclaimed--"That's for you! It's a reward for your +telegraphic operations! Will you be grateful if I give it to you?" + +He laughed. + +"Profoundly! It shall be my D.S.O.!" + +"Then there you are!" and she placed the tiny coin in the palm of +the hand he held out to receive it. "The labourer is worthy of his +hire! Now you can never go about like some clergymen, grumbling and +saying you work for no pay!" Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "What +shall we do next? Oh, I know! Let's buy some acid drops!" + +Mrs. Tapple stared and smiled. + +"Or pear-drops," continued Maryllia, glancing critically at the +various jars of 'sweeties,'--"I see the real old-fashioned pink ones +up there,--lumpy at one end and tapering at the other. Do you like +them? Or brandy balls? I think the pear-drops carry one back to the +age of ten most quickly! But which do you prefer?" + +Walden tried to look serious, but could not succeed. Laughter +twinkled all over his face, and he began to feel extremely young. + +"Well,--really, Miss Vancourt,---" he began. + +"There, I know what you are going to say!" exclaimed Maryllia--"You +are going to tell me that it would never do for a clergyman to be +seen munching pear-drops in his own parish. _I_ understand! But +clergymen do ever so much. worse than that sometimes. They do, +really! Two ounces of pear-drops for me, Mrs. Tapple, please!--and +one of brandy balls!" + +Mrs. Tapple bustled out of her 'Gove'nment' office, and came to the +grocery counter to dispense these dainties. + +"They stick to the jar so," said Maryllia, watching her +thoughtfully; "They always did. I remember, as a child, seeing a man +put his finger in to detach them. Don't put your finger in, Mrs. +Tapple!--take a bit of wood--an old skewer or something. Oh, they're +coming out all right! That's it!" And she popped one of the pear- +drops into her mouth. "They are really very good--better than French +fondants--so much more innocent and refreshing!" Here she took +possession of the little paper-bags which Mrs. Tapple had filled +with the sweets. "Thank you, Mrs. Tapple! If any answers to my +telegrams come from Paris, please send them up to the Manor at once. +Good-morning!" + +"Good-morning, Miss!" And Mrs. Tapple, curtseying, pulled the door +of her double establishment wider open to let the young lady pass +out, which she did, with a smile and nod, Walden following her. +Plato rose and paced majestically after his mistress, Nebbie +trotting meekly at the rear, and so they all went forth from the +postmistress's garden into the road, where Walden, pausing, raised +his hat in farewell. + +"Oh, are you going?" queried Maryllia. "Won't you walk with me as +far as your own rectory?" + +"Certainly, if you wish it,"--he answered with a slight touch of +embarrassment; "I thought perhaps---" + +"You thought perhaps,--what?" laughed Maryllia, glancing up at him +archly--"That I was going to make you eat pear-drops against your +will? Not I! I wouldn't be so rude. But I really thought I ought to +buy something from Mrs. Tapple,--she was so worried, poor old dear!- +-till you came in. Then she looked as happy as though she saw a +vision of angels. She's a perfect picture, with her funny old shawl +and spectacles and knobbly red fingers--and do you know, all the +time you were working the telegraph you were under the fragrant +shadow of a big piece of bacon which was 'curing,'--positively +'curing' over your head! Couldn't you smell it?" + +Walden's eyes twinkled. + +"There was certainly a fine aroma in the air," he said--"But it +seemed to me no more than the customary perfume common to Mrs. +Tapple's surroundings. I daresay it was new to you! A country +clergyman is perhaps the only human being who has to inure himself +to bacon odours as the prevailing sweetness of cottage interiors." + +Maryllia laughed. She had a pretty laugh, silver-clear and joyous +without loudness. + +"Fancy your being so clever as to be able to send off telegrams!" +she exclaimed--"What an accomplishment for a Churchman! Don't you +want to know all about the messages you sent?--who the persons are, +and what I have to do with them?" + +"Not in the least!" answered John, smiling. + +"Are you not of a curious disposition?" + +"I never care about other people's business," he said, meeting her +upturned eyes with friendly frankness--"I have enough to do to +attend to my own." + +"Then you are positively inhuman!" declared Maryllia--"And +absolutely unnatural! You are, really! Every two-legged creature on +earth wants to find out all the ins and cuts of every other two- +legged creature,--for if this were not the case wars would be at an +end, and the wicked cease from troubling and the weary be at rest. +So just because you don't want to know about my two friends in +Paris, I'm going to tell you. Louis Gigue is the greatest teacher of +singing there is,--and Cicely Bourne is his pupil, a perfectly +wonderful little girl with a marvellous compass of voice, whose +training and education I am paying for. I want her with me here--and +I have sent for her;--Gigue can come on if he thinks it necessary to +give her a few lessons during the summer, but of course she is not +to sing in public until she is sixteen. She is only fourteen now." + +Walden listened in silence. He was looking at his companion +sideways, and noting the delicate ebb and flow of the rose tint in +her cheeks, the bright flecks of gold in the otherwise brown hair, +and the light poise of her dainty rounded figure as she stepped +along beside him with an almost aerial grace and swiftness. + +"She was the child of a Cornish labourer,"--went on Maryllia. "Her +mother sold her for ten pounds. Yes!--wasn't it dreadful!" This, as +John's face expressed surprise. "But it is true! You shall hear all +the story some day,--it is quite a little romance. And she is so +clever!--you would think her ever so much older than she is, to hear +her talk. Sometimes she is rather blunt, and people get offended +with her-but she is true--oh, so true!--she wouldn't do a mean +action for the world! She is just devoted to me,--and that is +perhaps why I am devoted to her,--because after all, it's a great +thing to be loved, isn't it?" + +"It is indeed!" replied John, mechanically, beginning to feel a +little dazed under the influence of the bright eyes, animated face, +smiling lips and clear, sweet voice--"It ought to be the best of all +things." + +"It ought to be, and it is!" declared Maryllia emphatically. "Oh, +what a lovely bush of lilac!" And she hastened on a few steps in +order to look more closely at the admired blossoms, which were +swaying in the light breeze over the top of a thick green hedge-- +"Why, it must be growing in your garden! Yes, it is!--of course it +is!--this is your gate. May I come in?" + +She paused, her hand on the latch,--and for a moment Walden +hesitated. A wave of colour swept up to his brows,--he was conscious +of a struggling desire to refuse her request, united to a still more +earnest craving to grant it. She looked at him, wistfully smiling. + +"May I come in?" she repeated. + +He advanced, and opened the gate, standing aside for her to pass. + +"Of course you may!"--he said gently,--"And welcome!" + + + + +XIV + + +Now it happened that Bainton was at that moment engaged in training +some long branches of honey-suckle across the rectory walls, and +being half-way up a ladder for the purpose, the surprise he +experienced at seeing 'Passon' and Miss Vancourt enter the garden +together and walk slowly side by side across the lawn, was so +excessive, that in jerking his head round to convince himself that +it was not a vision but a reality, he nearly lost his balance. + +"Woa, steady!" he muttered, addressing the ladder which for a second +swayed beneath him--"Woa, I sez! This ain't no billowy ocean with +wot they calls an underground swell! So the ice 'ave broke, 'ave it! +She, wot don't like clergymen, an' he, wot don't like ladies, 'as +both come to saunterin' peaceful like with one another over the +blessed green grass all on a fine May mornin'! Which it's gettin' +nigh on June now an' no sign o' the weather losin' temper. Well, +well! Wonders won't never cease it's true, but I'd as soon a' +thought o' my old 'ooman dancin' a 'ornpipe among her cream cheeses +as that Passon Walden would a' let Miss Vancourt inside this 'ere +gate so easy like, an' he a bacheldor. But there!--arter all, he's +gettin' on in years, an' she's ever so much younger than he is, an' +I dessay he's made up his mind to treat 'er kind like, as 'twere her +father, which he should do, bein' spiritooal 'ead o' the village, +an' as for the pretty face of 'er, he's not the man to look at it +more'n once, an' then he couldn't tell you wot it's like. He favours +his water-lilies mor'n females,--ah, an' I bet he'd give ten pound +for a new specimen of a flower when he wouldn't lay out a 'apenny on +a new specimen of a woman." Here, pausing in his reflections, he +again looked cautiously round from his high vantage point of view on +the ladder, and saw Walden break off a spray of white lilac from one +bush of a very special kind near the edge of the lawn, and give it +to Miss Vancourt. "Well, now that do beat me altogether!" he +ejaculated under his breath. "If he's told me once, he's told me a +'undred times that he won't 'ave no blossoms broke off that bush on +no account An' there he is a-pickin' of it hisself! That's a kind of +thing which do make me feel that men is a poor feeble-minded lot,-- +it do reely now!" + +But feeble-minded or not, John had nevertheless gathered the choice +flower, and moreover, had found a certain pleasure in giving it to +his fair companion, who inhaled its delicious odour with an +appreciative smile. + +"What a dear old house you have!" she said, glancing up at the +crossed timbers, projecting gables, and quaint dormer windows set +like eyes in the roof--"I had no idea that it was so pretty! And the +garden is perfectly lovely. It is so very artistic!--it looks like a +woman's dream of a garden rather than a man's." + +John smiled. + +"You think women more artistic than men?" he queried. + +"In the decorative line--yes," she replied--"Especially where +flowers are concerned. If one leaves the planning of a garden +entirely to a man, he is sure to make it too stiff and +mathematical,--he will not allow Nature to have her own way in the +least little bit,--in fact"--and she laughed--"I don't think men as +a rule like to let anything or anybody have their own way except +themselves!" + +The smile still lingered kindly round the corners of Walden's mouth. + +"Possibly you may be right,"--he said--"I almost believe you are. +Men are selfish,--much more selfish than women. Nature made them so +in the first instance,--and our methods of education and training +all tend to intensify our natural bent. But"--here he paused and +looked at her thoughtfully; "I am not sure that absolute +unselfishness would be a wise or strong trait in the character of a +man. You see the first thing he has to do in this world is to earn +the right to live,--and if he were always backing politely out of +everybody else's way, and allowing himself to be hustled to one side +in an unselfish desire to let others get to the front, he would +scarcely be able to hold his own in any profession. And all those +dependent upon his efforts would also suffer,--so that his +'unselfishness' might become the very worst kind of selfishness in +the end--don't you think so?" "Well--yes--perhaps in that way it +might!" hesitated Maryllia, with a faint blush--"I ought not to +judge anyone I know--but--oh dear!--the men one meets in town--the +society men with their insufferable airs of conceit and +condescension,--their dullness of intellect,--their preference for +cigars, whiskey, and Bridge to anything else under the sun,--their +intensely absorbed love of personal ease, and their perfectly absurd +confidence in their own supreme wisdom!--these are the hybrid +creatures that make one doubt the worth of the rest of their sex +altogether." + +"But there are hybrid creatures on both sides,"--said Walden +quietly--"Just as there are the men you speak of, so there are women +of the same useless and insufferable character. Is it not so?" + +She looked up at him and laughed. + +"Why, yes, of course!" she frankly admitted--"I guess I won't argue +with you on the six of one and half-dozen of the other! But it's +just as natural for women to criticise men as for men to criticise +nowadays. Long ago, in the lovely 'once upon a time' fairy period, +the habit of criticism doesn't appear to have developed strongly in +either sex. The men were chivalrous and tender,--the women adoring +and devoted--I think it must have been perfectly charming to have +lived then! It is all so different now!" + +"Fortunately, it is," said John, with a mirthful sparkle in his +eyes--"I am sure you would not have liked that 'once upon a time +fairy period' as you call it, at all, Miss Vancourt! Poets and +romancists may tell us that the men were 'chivalrous and tender,' +but plain fact convinces us that they were very rough unwashen +tyrants who used to shut up their ladies in gloomy castles where +very little light and air could penetrate,--and the adoring and +devoted ladies, in their turn, made very short work of the whole +business by either dying of their own grief and ill-treatment, or +else getting killed in cold blood by order of their lords and +masters. Why, one of the finest proofs of an improvement in our +civilisation is the freedom of thought and action given to women in +the present day. Personally speaking, I admit to a great fondness +for old-fashioned ways, and particularly for old-fashioned manners,- +-but I cannot shut my mind to the fact that for centuries women have +been unfairly hindered by men in every possible way from all chance +of developing the great powers of intelligence they possess,--and it +is certainly time the opposition to their advancement should cease. +Of course, being a man myself,"--and he smiled--"I daresay that in +my heart of hearts I like the type of woman I first learned to know +and love best,--my mother. She had the early Victorian, ways,--they +were very simple, but also very sweet." + +He broke off, and for a moment or two they paced the lawn in +silence. + +"I suppose you live all alone here?" asked Maryllia, suddenly. + +"Yes. Quite alone." + +"And are you happy?" + +"I am content." + +"I understand!" and she looked at him somewhat earnestly:--"'Happy' +is a word that should seldom be used I think. It is only at the +rarest possible moments that one can feel real true happiness." + +"You are too young to say that,"--he rejoined gently--"All your life +is before you. The greater part of mine lies behind me." Again she +glanced at him somewhat timidly. + +"Mr. Walden"--she began--"I'm afraid--I suppose--I daresay you +think---" + +John caught the appealing flash of the blue eyes, and wondering what +she was going to say. She played with the spray of lilac he had +given her, and for a moment seemed to have lost her self-possession. + +"I am quite sure,"--she went on, hurriedly--"that you--I mean, I'm +afraid you haven't a very good opinion of me because I don't go to +church---" + +He looked at her, smiling a little. + +"Dor't you go to church?" he asked--"I didn't know it!" + +Here was a surprise for the lady of the Manor. The clergyman of her +own parish,--a man, who by all accepted rule and precedent ought to +have been after her at once, asking for subscriptions to this fund +and that fund, toadying her for her position, and begging for her +name and support, had not even noticed her absence from divine +service on Sundays! She did not know whether to be relieved or +dissatisfied. Such indifference to her actions piqued her feminine +pride, and yet, his tone was very kind and courteous. Noting the +colour coming and going on her face, he spoke again--- + +"I never interfere personally with my parishioners, Miss Vancourt"-- +he said--"To attend church or stay away from church is a matter of +conscience with each individual, and must be left to individual +choice. I should be the last person in the world to entertain a bad +opinion of anyone simply because he or she never went to church. +That would be foolish indeed! Some of the noblest and best men in +Christendom to-day never go to church,--but they are none the less +noble and good! They have their reasons of conscience for non- +committing themselves to accepted forms of faith, and it often turns +out that they are more truly Christian and more purely religious +than the most constant church-goer that ever lived." + +Maryllia gave a little sigh of sudden relief. + +"Ah, you are a broad-minded Churchman!" she said. "I am glad! Very +glad! Because you have no doubt followed the trend of modern +thought,--and you must have read all the discussions in the +magazines and in the books that are written on such subjects,--and +you can understand how difficult it is to a person like myself to +decide what is right when so many of the wisest and most educated +men agree to differ." + +Walden stopped abruptly in his walk. + +"Please do not mistake me, Miss Vancourt," he said gravely, and with +emphasis--"I should be sorry if you gathered a wrong opinion of me +at the outset of our acquaintance. As your minister I feel that I +ought to make my position clear to you. You say that I have probably +followed the trend of modern thought--and I presume that you mean +the trend of modern thought in religious matters. Now I have not +'followed' it, but I have patiently studied it, and find it in all +respects deplorable and disastrous. At the same time I would not +force the high truths of religion on any person, nor would I step +out of my way to ask anyone to attend church if he or she did not +feel inclined to do so. And why? Because I fully admit the laxity +and coldness of the Church in the present day--and I know that there +are many ministers of the Gospel who do not attract so much as they +repel. I am not so self-opinionated as to dream that I, a mere +country parson, can succeed in drawing souls to Christ when so many +men of my order, more gifted than I, have failed, and continue to +fail. But I wish you quite frankly to understand that the trend of +modern thought does not affect the vows I took at my ordination,-- +that I do not preach one thing, and think another,--and that +whatever my faults and shortcomings may be, I most earnestly +endeavour to impress the minds of all those men and women who are +committed to my care with the beauty, truth and saving grace of the +Christian Faith." + +Maryllia was silent. She appeared to be looking at the daisies in +the grass. + +"I hope," he continued quietly, "you will forgive this rather +serious talk of mine. But when you spoke of 'the trend of modern +thought,' it seemed necessary to me to let you know at once and +straightly that I am not with it,--that I do not belong to the +modern school. Professing to be a Christian minister, I try to be +one,--very poorly and unsuccessfully I know,--but still, I try!" + +Maryllia raised her eyes. There was a glisten on her long lashes as +of tears. + +"Please forgive ME!" she said simply--"And thank you for speaking as +you have done! I shall always remember it, and honour you for it. I +hope we shall be friends?" + +She put the words as a query, and half timidly held out her little +ungloved hand. He took it at once and pressed it cordially. + +"Indeed, I am sure we shall!" he said heartily, and the smile that +made his face more than ordinarily handsome lit up his eyes and +showed a depth of sincerity and kindly feeling reflected straight +from his honest soul. A sudden blush swept over Maryllia's cheeks, +and she gently withdrew her hand from his clasp. A silence fell +between them, and when they broke the spell it was by a casual +comment respecting the wealth of apple-blossoms that were making the +trees around them white with their floral snow. + +"St. Rest is a veritable orchard, when the season favours it," said +Walden--"It is one of the best fruit-growing corners in England. At +Abbot's Manor, for instance, the cherry crop is finer than can be +gathered on the same acreage of ground in Kent. Did you know that?" + +Maryllia laughed. + +"No! I know absolutely nothing about my own home, Mr. Walden,--and I +am perfectly aware that I ought to be ashamed of my ignorance. I AM +ashamed of it! I'm going to try and amend the error of my ways as +fast as I can. When Cicely Bourne comes to stay with me, she will +help me. She's ever so much more sensible than I am. She's a +genius." + +"Geniuses do not always get the credit of being sensible, do they?" +queried John, smiling--"Are they not supposed to be creatures of +impulse, dwellers in the air, and wholly irresponsible?" + +"Exactly so,"--she replied--"That is the commonplace opinion +commonplace people entertain of them. Yet the commonplace people owe +everything they enjoy in art, literature and science to the +conceptions of genius, and of genius alone. As for Cicely, she is +the most practical little person possible. She began to earn her +living at the age of eleven, and has 'roughed' it in the world more +severely than many a man. But she keeps her dreams," + +"And those who wish her well will pray that she may always keep +them,"--said Walden--"For to lose one's illusions is to lose the +world." + +"The world itself may be an illusion!" said Maryllia, drawing near +the garden gate and leaning upon it for a moment, as she glanced up +at him with a vague sadness in her eyes,--"We never know. I have +often felt that it is only a pretty little pageant, with a very dark +background behind it!" + +He was silent, looking at her. For the first time he caught himself +noticing her dress. It was of simple pale blue linen, relieved with +white embroidered lawn, and in its cool, fresh, clean appearance was +in keeping with the clear bright day. A plain straw garden hat tied +across the crown and under the chin with a strip of soft blue ribbon +to match the linen gown, was the finish to this 'fashionable' young +woman's toilette,--and though it was infinitely becoming to the fair +skin, azure eyes, and gold-brown hair of its wearer, it did not +suggest undue extravagance, or a Paris 'mode.' And while he yet +almost unconsciously studied the picture she made, resting one arm +lightly across his garden gate, she lifted the latch suddenly and +swung it open. + +"Good-bye!" and she nodded smilingly--"Thank you so much for letting +me see your lovely garden! As soon as Cicely arrives, you must come +and see her--you will, won't you?" + +"I shall be most happy---" he murmured. + +"She will be so interested to hear how you sent her my telegram,"-- +continued Maryllia--"And Gigue too--poor old Gigue!--he is sure to +come over here some time during the summer. He is such a quaint +person! I think you will like him. Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye--for the present!" said John with a slight note of appeal +in his voice, which was not lost wholly upon the air alone, for +Maryllia turned her head back towards him with a laugh. + +"Oh, of course!--only for the present! We are really next-door +neighbours, and I'm afraid we can't escape each other unless we each +play hermit in separate caves! But I promise not to bore you with my +presence very often!" + +She waved the spray of white lilac he had given her in farewell, and +calling her dog to her side, passed down the village road lightly, +like a blue flower drifting with the May breeze, and was soon out of +sight. + +Walden closed the gate after her with careful slowness, and returned +across the lawn to his favourite seat under his favourite apple- +tree. Nebbie followed him, disconsolately snuffing the ground in the +trail of the departed Plato, who doubtless, to the smaller animal's +mind, represented a sort of canine monarch who ruthlessly disdained +the well-meaning attentions of his inferiors. Bainton, having +finished his task of training the vines across the walls of the +rectory, descended his ladder, making as much noise as he could +about it and adding thereto a sudden troublesome cough which would +he considered, probably excite his master's sympathy and instant +attention. But Walden paid no heed. He was apparently busy fumbling +with his watch-chain. Bainton waited a moment, and then, unable any +longer to control his curiosity, seized his ladder and deliberately +carried it across the lawn, though he knew that that was not the +proper way to the tool-shed where it was kept. Halting close to the +seat under the apple-tree, he said:-- + +"Yon red honeysuckle's comin' on fine, Passon,--it be as full o' bud +as a pod o' peas." + +"Ay indeed!" murmured Walden, absently--"That's all right!" + +Bainton paused expectantly. No further word however was vouchsafed +to him, and he knew by experience that such silence implied his +master's wish to be left alone. With an almost magisterial gravity +he surveyed the Reverend John's bent head, and with another +scrutinising glance, ascertained the nature of the occupation on +which his fingers were engaged, whereupon his face expressed the +liveliest amazement. Shouldering his ladder, he went his way,--and +once out of earshot gave vent to a long low whistle. + +"It do beat me!" he said, slapping one corduroy-trousered leg +vehemently--"It do beat me altogether--it do reely now! I ain't no +swearin' sort, an' bad langwidge ain't my failin', but I feel like +takin' a bet, or sayin' a swear when I sees a sensible man like, +makin' a fool of hisself! If Passon ain't gone looney all on a +suddint, blest if I knows wot's come to 'im. 'Tain't Miss Vancourt,- +-'tain't no one nor nothink wot I knows on, but I'm blowed if he +worn't sittin' under that tree, like a great gaby, a' fastenin' a +mis'able threepenny bit to 'is watch-chain! Did anyone ever 'ear the +like! A threepenny bit with a 'ole in it! To think of a man like +that turnin' to the sup'stitions o' maids an' wearin' a oley bit o' +silver! It do make me wild!--it do reely now!" + +And snorting with ineffable disdain, Bainton almost threw his ladder +into the tool-shed, thereby scaring a couple of doves who had found +their way within, and who now flew out with a whirr of white wings +that glistened like pearl in the sunlight as they spread upwards and +away into the sky. + +"A threepenny bit with a 'ole in it!" he repeated, mechanically +watching the birds of peace in their flight--"An' on his watch-chain +too, along wi' the gold cross wot he allus wears there, an' which +folks sez was the last thing wore by 'is dead sister! Somethin's +gone wrong with 'im-somethin' MUST a' gone wrong! Ginerally speakin' +a 'oley bit means a woman in it--but 'tain't that way wi' Passon for +sure--there's a deeper 'ole than the 'ole in the threepenny--a 'ole +wot ain't got no bottom to it, so fur as I can see. I'm just fair +'mazed with that 'ole!--'mazed an' moithered altogether, blest if I +ain't!" + +The Reverend John, meanwhile, seated under his canopy of apple- +blossoms, had succeeded in attaching the ''oley bit' to his chain in +such a manner that it should not come unduly into notice with the +mere action of pulling out his watch. He could not, for the life of +him, have explained, had he been asked, the reason why he had +determined to thus privately wear it on his own person. To himself +he said he 'fancied' it. And why should not parsons have 'fancies' +like other people? Why should they not wear ''oley bits' if they +liked? No objection, either moral, legal or religious could surely +be raised to such a course of procedure! + +And John actually whistled a tune as he slipped back his chain with +its new adornment attached, into his waistcoat pocket, and surveyed +his garden surroundings with a placid smile. His interview with Miss +Vancourt had not been an unpleasant experience by any means. He +liked her better than when he had first seen her on the morning of +their meeting under the boughs of the threatened 'Five Sister' +beeches. He could now, as he thought, gauge her character and +temperament correctly, with all the wonderful perspicuity and not- +to-be-contradicted logic of a man. She was charming,--and she knew +her charm;--she was graceful, and she was aware of her grace;--she +was bright and intelligent in the prettily 'surface' way of women,-- +she evidently possessed a kind heart, and she seemed thoughtful of +other people's feelings,--she had a sweet voice and a delightfully +musical laugh,--and--and--that was about all. It was not much, +strictly speaking;--yet he found himself considerably interested in +weighing the pros and cons of her nature, and wondering how she had +managed to retain, in the worldly and social surroundings to which +she had been so long accustomed, the child-like impulsiveness of her +manner, and the simple frankness of her speech. + +"Of course it may be all put on,"--he reflected, though with a touch +of shamed compunction at the bare suggestion--"One can never tell! +It seemed natural. And it would hardly be worth her while to act a +part for the benefit of an old fogey like myself. I think she is +genuine. I hope so! At any rate I will believe she is, till she +proves herself otherwise. Of course 'the trend of modern thought' +has touched her. The cruellest among the countless cruel deeds of +latter-day theism is to murder the Christ in women. For, as woman's +purity first brought the Divine Master into the world, so must +woman's purity still keep Him here with us,--else we men are lost-- +lost through the sins, not only of our fathers, but chiefly of our +mothers!" + +That same evening Maryllia received a prompt reply to one of the +telegrams which Walden had sent off for her in the morning. It was +brief and to the point, and only ran:--'Coming. Cicely';--a message +which Mrs. Tapple had no difficulty in deciphering, and which she +sent up to the Manor, post haste, as soon as it arrived. The +telegraph-boy who conveyed it, got sixpence for himself as a reward +for the extra speed he had put on in running all the way from the +village to the house, thereby outstripping the postman, who being +rotund in figure was somewhat heavily labouring up in the same +direction with the last delivery of letters for the day. Miss +Vancourt's correspondents were generally very numerous,--but on this +occasion there was only one letter for her,--one, neatly addressed, +with a small finely engraved crest on the flap of the envelope. +Maryllia surveyed that envelope and crest with disfavour,--she had +seen too many of the same kind. The smile that brightened her face +when she read Cicely's telegram, faded altogether into an expression +of cold weariness as with a small silver paper-knife she slowly slit +the closed edges of the unwelcome missive and glanced indifferently +at its contents. It ran as follows: + +"MY DEAR MISS MARYLLIA,--I feel sure you do not realise the great +pain you are inflicting on your aunt, as well as on myself, by +declining to answer our letters except by telegram. Pray remember +that we are quite in the dark as to the state of your health, your +surroundings and your general well-being. Your sudden departure from +town, was, if you will permit me to say so, a most unwise impulse, +causing as it has done, the greatest perplexity in your own social +circle and among your hosts of friends. I have done my best to +smooth matters over, by assuring all enquirers that certain matters +on your country estate required your personal supervision, but +rumour, as you know, has many tongues which are not likely to be +easily silenced. Your aunt was much surprised and disturbed to +receive from you a box of peacock's feathers, without any word from +yourself. She has no doubt you meant the gift kindly, but was not +the manner of giving somewhat strange?--let me say eccentric? I hope +you will allow me to point out to you that nothing is more fatal to +a woman in good society than to attain any sort of reputation for +eccentricity. I may take the liberty of saying this to you as an old +friend, and as one who still holds persistently to the dear +expectation, despite much discouragement, of being able soon to call +you by a closer name than mere friendship allows. The disagreement +between your aunt and yourself should surely be a matter of slight +duration, and not sufficient in any case to warrant your rash +decision to altogether resign the protection and kindly guardianship +which she, on her part, has exercised over you for so many years. I +cannot too strongly impress upon your mind the fatal effect any long +absence from her is likely to have on your position in society, and +though as yet you have only been about three weeks away, people are +talking and will no doubt continue to talk. If you find your old +home an agreeable change from town life, pray allow your aunt to +join you there. She will do so, I am sure, with pleasure. She misses +you very greatly, and I will never believe that you would wilfully +cause her needless trouble. I may not, I know, express my own +feelings on the subject, as I should probably only incur your scorn +or displeasure, but simply as an honest man who wishes you nothing +but good, I ask you quietly to consider to what misrepresentation +and calumny you voluntarily expose yourself by running away, as it +were, from a rightful and affectionate protector and second mother +like your good aunt, and living all alone in the country without any +one of your immediate circle of friends within calling distance. Is +there a more compromising or more ludicrous position than that of +the independent and defenceless female? I think not! She is the +laughing-stock of the clubs, and the perennial joke of the comic +press. Pray do not place yourself in the same category with the +despised and unlovely of your sex, but remain on the height where +Nature placed you, and where your charm and intelligence can best +secure acknowledgment from the less gifted and fortunate. Entreating +your pardon for any word or phrase in this letter which may +unluckily chance to annoy you, I am. my dear Miss Maryllia,--Yours +with the utmost devotion," + "ROXMOUTH." + + "What a humbug he is!" said Maryllia, half aloud, as she nut the +letter back in its envelope and set it aside--"What a soft, smooth, +civil, correctly trained humbug! How completely he ignores the +possibility of my having any intelligence, even while he asks me to +remain 'on the height' where it can best secure acknowledgment! He +never appears to realise that my intelligence may be of such a +quality as to enable me to see through him pretty clearly! And so +the 'independent and defenceless female' is the laughing-stock of +the clubs, is she? Well, I daresay he is quite right there! There's +nothing braver for men to do at their clubs than to laugh at the +'defenceless' women who would rather fight the world alone and earn +their own livelihood, than enter into loveless marriages! The +quaintest part of the letter is the bit about Aunt Emily. Roxmouth +must really think me a perfect idiot if he dreams that I would +accept such a story as that she was 'surprised and disturbed' at +receiving the box of peacock's feathers. Aunt Emily was never +'surprised' or 'disturbed' at anything in her life, I am sure! When +poor Uncle Fred died, she pressed her handkerchief to her eyes for +five minutes, and then sat down at her desk to write her orders for +mourning. And when I spoke my mind to her about Roxmouth, she only +smiled and told me not to excite myself. Then when I said I had +determined to leave her altogether and go back to my own home to +live, she took it quite easily, and merely stated she would have to +alter her will. I assured her I hoped she would do so at once, as I +had no wish to benefit by her death. Then she didn't speak to me for +several days, and I came away quietly without bidding her good-bye. +And here I am,--and here I mean to stay!" + +She laughed a little, and moving to the open window, looked out on +the quiet beauty of the landscape. "Yes!--I too will become a +laughing-stock of the clubs;--and even I may attain the distinction +of being accepted as a 'joke by the comie press'! I will be an +'independent and defenceless female,' and see how I get on! In any +case I'd rather be defenceless than have Roxmouth as a defender. And +I shall not be alone here, now that Cicely is coming. Besides, I +have two men friends in the village,--at least, I think I have! I'm +sure of one,--old Josey Letherbarrow!" The smile lingered on her +lips, as she still looked out on the lawn and terrace, shadowed by +the evening dusk, and sweet with the cool perfume of the rising dew. +"And the other,--if he should turn out as agreeable as he seemed +this morning,--why, he is a tower of strength so far as +respectability is concerned! What better protection can an +'independent and defenceless female' have than the minister of the +parish? I can go to him for a character, ask him for a reference, +throw myself and my troubles upon him as upon a rock, and make him +answer for me as an honest and well-intentioned parishioner! And I +believe he would 'speak up' for me, as the poor folks say,--yes, my +Lord Roxmouth!--I believe he would,--and if he did, I'm certain he +would speak straight, and not whisper a few small poisonous lies +round the corner! For I think"--and here the train of her +reflections wandered away from her aunt and her lordly wooer +altogether, "yes,--I think Mr. Walden is a good man! I was not quite +sure about him when I first met him,--I thought his eyes seemed +deceitful,--so many parsons' eyes are!--but I looked well into them +to-day,--and they're not the usual eyes of a parson at all,--they're +just the eyes of a British sailor who has watched rough seas all his +life,--and such eyes are always true!" + + + + +XV + + +On the following Monday afternoon Cicely Bourne, to whom Walden had +so successfully telegraphed Maryllia's commands, arrived. She was +rather an odd-looking young person. Her long thin legs were much too +long for the shortness of her black cashmere frock, which was made +'en demoiselle,' after the fashion adhered to in French convents, +where girls are compelled to look as ugly as possible, in order that +they may eschew the sin of personal vanity,--her hair, of a rich +raven black, was plaited in a stiff thick braid resembling a Chinese +pigtail, and was fastened at the end with a bow of ribbon,--and a +pair of wonderfully brilliant dark eyes flashed under her arching +brows, suggesting something weird and witchlike in their roving +glances, and giving an almost uncanny expression to her small, +sallow face. But she was full of the most exuberant vitality,--she +sparkled all over with it and seemed to exhale it in the mere act of +breathing. Brimful of delight at the prospect of spending the whole +summer with her friend and patroness, to whom she owed everything, +and whom she adored with passionate admiration and gratitude, she +dashed into the old-world silence and solitude of Abbot's Manor like +a wild wave of the sea, crested with sunshine and bubbling over with +ripples of mirth. Her incessant chatter and laughter awoke the long- +hushed echoes of the ancient house to responsive gaiety,--and every +pale lingering shadow of dullness or loneliness fled away from the +exhilarating effect of her presence, which acted at once as a +stimulant and charm to Maryllia, who welcomed her arrival with +affectionate enthusiasm. + +"But oh, my dear!" she exclaimed--"What a little school-guy they +have made of you! You must have grown taller, surely, since November +when I saw you last? Your frock is ever so much too short!" + +"I don't think I've grown a bit,"--said Cicely, glancing down at her +own legs disparagingly--"But my frock wore shabby at the bottom, and +the nuns had a fresh hem turned up all round. That reduced its +length by a couple of inches at least. I told them as modestly as I +could that my ankles were too vastily exposed, but they said it +didn't matter, as I was only a day-boarder." + +Maryllia's eyebrows went up perplexedly. + +"I don't see what that has to do with it,"--she said--"Would you +have preferred to live in the Convent altogether, dear?" + +"Grand merci!" and Cicely made an expressive grimace--"Not I! I +should not have had half as many lessons from Gigue, and I should +never have been able to write to you without the Mere Superieure +spying into my letters. That's why none of the girls are allowed to +have sealing wax, because all their letters are ungummed over a +basin of hot water and read before going to post. Discipline, +discipline! Torquemada's Inquisition was nothing to it! Of course I +had to tell the Mere Superieure that you had sent for me, and that I +should be away all summer. She asked heaps of questions, but she got +nothing out of me, so of course she wrote to your aunt. But that +doesn't matter, does it?" + +"Not in the least,"--answered Maryllia, decisively,--"My aunt has +nothing whatever to do with me now, nor I with her. I am my own +mistress." + +"And it becomes you amazingly!" declared Cicely--"I never saw you +looking prettier! You are just the sweetest thing that ever fell out +of heaven in human shape! Oh, Maryllia, what a lovely, lovely place +this is! And is it all yours?--your very, very own?" + +"My very, very own!" and Maryllia, in replying to the question, felt +a thrill of legitimate pride in the beautiful old Tudor house of her +ancestors,--"I wish I had never been taken away from it! The more I +see of it, the more I feel I ought not to have left it so long." + +"It is real home, sweet home!" said Cicely, and her great eyes grew +suddenly sad and wistful, as she slipped a caressing arm round her +friend's waist--"How grateful I am to you for asking me to come and +stay in it! Because, after all, I am only a poor little peasant,-- +with a musical faculty!" + +Maryllia kissed her affectionately. + +"You are a genius, my dear!" she said--"There's is no higher +supremacy. What does Gigue say of you now?" + +"Gigue is satisfied, I think. But I don't really know. He says I'm +too precocious--that my voice is a woman's before I'm a girl. It's +abnormal--and I'm abnormal too. I know I am,--and I know it's +horrid--but I can't help it! Whers'a the piano?" + +"There isn't one in the house," said Maryllia, smiling; "Abbot's +Manor has always lived about a hundred and fifty years behind the +times. But I've sent for a boudoir grand--it will be here this week. +Meanwhile, won't this do?" and she pointed to a quaint little +instrument occupying a recess near the window--"It's a spinet of +Charles the Second's period---" + +"Delightful!" cried Cicely, ecstatically--"There's nothing sweeter +in the whole world to sing to!" + +Opening the painted lid with the greatest tenderness and care, she +passed her hands lightly over the spinet's worn and yellow ivory +keys and evoked a faint fairy-like tinkling. + +"Listen! Isn't it like the wandering voice of some little ghost of +the past trying to speak to us?" she said--"And in such sweet tune, +too! Poor little ghost! Shall I sing to you? Shall I tell you that +we have a sympathy in common with you, even though you are so old +and so far, far away!" + +Her lips parted, and a pure note, crystal clear, and of such silvery +softness as to seem more supernatural than human, floated upward on +the silence. Maryllia caught her breath, and listened with a quickly +beating heart,--she knew that the voice of this child whom she had +rescued from a life of misery, was a world's marvel. + + "Le douce printemps fait naitre,-- + Autant d'amours que de fleurs; + Tremblez, tremblez, jeunes coeurs! + Des qu'il commence a paraitre + Il faut cesser les froideurs." + +Here with a sudden brilliant roulade the singer ran up the scale to +the C in alt, and there paused with a trill as delicious and full as +the warble of a nightingale. + + "Mais ce qu'il a de douceurs + Vous coutera cher peut-etre! + Tremblez, tremblez jeunes coeurs, + Le douce printemps fait naitre, + Autant d'amours que de fleurs!" + +She ceased. The air, broken into delicate vibrations, carried the +lovely sounds rhythmically outward, onward and into unechoing +distance. + +She turned and looked at Maryllia--then smiled. + +"I see you are pleased,"--she said. + +"Pleased! Cicely, I don't believe anyone was ever born into the +world to sing as you sing!" + +Cicely looked quaintly meditative. + +"Well, I don't know about that! You see there have been several +millions of folks born into the world, and there may have been just +one naturally created singer among them!" She laughed, and touched a +chord on the spinet. "The old French song exactly suits this old +French instrument. I see it is an ancient thing of Paris. Gigue says +I have improved--but he will never admit much, as you know. He has +forbidden me to touch the C in alt, and I did it just now. I cannot +help it sometimes--it comes so easy. But you must scold me, Maryllia +darling, when you hear me taking it,--I don't want to strain the +vocal cords, and I always forget I'm only fourteen; I feel--oh! ever +so much older!--ages old, in fact!" She sighed, and stretched her +arms up above her head. "What a perfect room this is to sing in! +What a perfect house!--and what a perfect angel you are to have me +with you!" + +Her eyes filled with sudden tears of emotion, but she quickly +blinked them away. + +"Et ce cher Roxmouth?" she queried, suddenly, glancing +appreciatively at the rippling gold-brown lights and shades of her +friend's hair, the delicate hues of her complexion, and the grace of +her form--"Has he been to see you in this idyllic retreat?" + +Maryllia gave a slight gesture of wearied impatience. + +"Certainly not! How can you ask such a question, Cicely! I left my +aunt on purpose to get rid of him once and for all. And he knows +it;--yet he has written to me every two days regularly since I came +here!" + +"Helas!--ce cher Roxmouth!" murmured Cicely, with a languid gesture +imitative of the 'society manner' of Mrs. Fred Vancourt,--"Parfait +gentilhomme au bout des ongles!" + +Maryllia laughed. + +"Yes,--Aunt Emily all over!" she said--"How tired I am of that +phrase! She knows as well as anybody that Roxmouth, for all his airs +of aristocratic propriety, is a social villain of the lowest type of +modern decadence, yet she would rather see me married to him than to +any other man she has ever met. And why? Simply because he will be a +Duke! She would like to say to all her acquaintances--'My niece is a +Duchess.' She would feel a certain fantastic satisfaction in +thinking that her millions were being used to build up the decayed +fortunes of an English nobleman's family, as well as to 'restore' +Roxmouth Castle, which is in a bad state of repair. And she would +sacrifice my heart and soul and life to such trumpery ambitions as +these!" + +"Trumpery ambitions!" echoed Cicely--"My dear, they are ambitions +for which nearly all women are willing to scramble, fight and die! +To be a Duchess! To dwell in an ancient 'restored' castle of once +proud English nobles! Saint Moses! Who wouldn't sacrifice such vague +matters as heart, life and soul for the glory of being called 'Your +Grace' by obsequious footmen! My unconventional Maryllia! You are +setting yourself in rank, heretical opposition to the +conventionalities of society, and won't all the little conventional +minds hate you for it!" + +"It doesn't matter if they do,"--rejoined Maryllia--"I have never +been loved since my father's death,--so I don't mind being hated." + +"_I_ love you!" said Cicely, with swift ardour--"Don't say you have +never been loved!" + +Maryllia caught her hand tenderly and kissed it. + +"I was not thinking of you, dear!" she said--"Forgive me! I was +thinking of men. They have admired me and flirted with me,--many of +them have wanted to marry me, in order to get hold of Aunt Emily's +fortune with me,--but none of them have ever loved me. Cicely, +Cicely, I want to be loved!" + +"So do I!" said Cicely, with answering light in her eyes--"But I +don't see how it's going to be done in my case! You may possibly get +your wish, but I!--why, my dear, I see myself in futur-oe as a +'prima donna assoluta' perhaps, with several painted and padded +bassi and tenori making sham love to me in opera till I get +perfectly sick of cuore and amore, and cry out for something else by +way of a change! I am quite positive that love,--love such as we +read of in poetry and romance, doesn't really exist! And I have +another fixed opinion--which is, that the people who write most +about it have never felt it. One always expresses best, even in a +song, the emotions one has never experienced." + +Maryllia looked at her in a little wonder. + +"Do you really think that?" + +"I do! It's not one of Gigue's sayings, though I know I often echo +Gigue!" + +She went to the window. "How lovely the garden is! Come out on the +lawn, Maryllia, and let us talk!" And as they sauntered across the +grass together with arms round each other's waists, she chattered +on--"People who write books and music are generally lonely,--and +they write best about love because they need it. They fancy it must +be much better than it is. But, after all, the grandest things go +unloved. Look at the sky, how clear it is and pure. Is it loved by +any other sky that we know of? And the sun up there, all alone in +its splendour,--I wonder if any other sun loves it? There are so +many lonely things in the universe! And it seems to me that the +loneliest are always the loveliest and grandest. It is only stupid +ephemera that are gregarious. Worms crawl along in masses,--mites +swarm in a cheese--flies stick in crowds on jam--and brainless +people shut themselves up all together within the walls of a city. +I'd rather be an eagle than a sparrow,--a star than one of a +thousand bonfire sparks,--and as a mere woman, I would rather ten +thousand times live a solitary life by myself till I die, than be +married to a rascal or a fool!" + +"Exactly my sentiments,"--said Maryllia--"Only you put them more +poetically than I can. Do you know, Cicely, you talk very oddly +sometimes?--very much in advance of your age, I mean?" + +"Do I?" And Cicely's tone expressed a mingling of surprise and +penitence--"I didn't know it. But I suppose I really can't help it, +Maryllia! I was a very miserable child--and miserable children age +rapidly. Perhaps I shall get younger as I grow older! You must +remember that at eleven years old I was scrubbing floors like any +charwoman in the Convent for two centimes an hour. I gained a lot of +worldly wisdom that way by listening to the talk of the nuns, which +is quite as spiteful and scandalous as anything one hears in outside +'wicked' society. Then I got into the Quartier Latin set with Gigue, +who picked me up because he heard me singing in the street,--and +altogether my experiences of life haven't been toys and bonbons. I +know I THINK 'old'--and I'm sure I feel old!" + +"Not when you play or sing," suggested Maryllia. + +"No--not then--never then! Then, all the youth of the world seems to +rush into me,--it tingles in my fingers, and throbs in my throat! I +feel as if I could reach heaven with sound!--yes! I feel that I +could sing to God Himself, if He would only listen!" + +Her eyes glowed with passion,--the plainness of her features was +transformed into momentary beauty. Maryllia was silent. She knew +that the aspirations of genius pent up in this elf-like girl were +almost too strong for her, and that the very excitability and +sensitiveness of her nature were such as to need the greatest care +and tenderness in training and controlling. Tactfully she changed +the conversation to ordinary subjects, and in a little while Cicely +had learned all that Maryllia herself knew about the village of St. +Rest and its inhabitants. She was considerably interested in the +story of the rescue of the 'Five Sister' beeches, and asked with a +touch of anxiety, what had become of the dismissed agent, Oliver +Leach? + +"Oh, he is still in the neighbourhood,"--said Maryllia, +indifferently--"He works for Sir Morton Pippitt, and I believe has +found a home at Badsworth. His accounts are not yet all handed in to +my solicitors. But I have a new agent now,--a Mr. Stanways--he is +just married to quite a nice young woman,--and he has already begun +work. Mr. Stanways has splendid recommendations--so that will be all +right." + +"No doubt--so far as Mr. Stanways himself is concerned it will be +all right,"--rejoined Cicely, musingly--"But if, as you say, the man +Oliver Leach cursed you, it isn't pleasant to think he is hanging +around here." + +"He isn't hanging round anywhere,"--declared Maryllia, easily--"He +is out of this beat altogether. He cursed me certainly,--but he was +in a temper,--and I should say that curses come naturally to him. +But, as the clergyman was present at the time, the curse couldn't +take any effect." She laughed. "You know Satan always runs away from +the Church." + +"Who is the clergyman, and what is he like?" asked Cicely. + +"He's not at all disagreeable"--answered Maryllia, carelessly-- +"Rather stiff perhaps and old-fashioned,--but he seems to be a great +favourite with all his parishioners. His name is John Walden. He has +restored the church here, quite at his own expense, and according to +the early original design. It is really quite wonderful. When I was +a child here, I only remember it as a ruin, but now people come from +far and near to see it. It will please you immensely." + +"But you don't go to it," observed Cicely, suggestively. + +"No. I haven't attended a service there as yet. But I don't say I +never will attend one. That will depend on circumstances." + +"I remember you always hated parsons," said Cicely, thoughtfully. + +Maryllia laughed. + +"Yes, I always did!" + +"And you always will, I suppose?" + +"Well, I expect I shall have to tolerate Mr. Walden,"--Maryllia +answered lightly,--"Because he's really my nearest neighbour. But +he's not so bad as most of his class." + +"I daresay he's a better type of man than Lord Roxmouth," said +Cicely. "By the way, Maryllia, that highly distinguished nobleman +has spread about a report that you are 'peculiar,' simply because +you won't marry him? The very nuns at the Convent have heard this, +and it does make me so angry! For when people get hold of the word +'peculiar,' it is made to mean several things." + +"I know!" and for a moment Maryllia's fair brows clouded with a +shadow of perplexity and annoyance--"It is a word that may pass for +madness, badness, or any form of social undesirability. But I don't +mind! I'm quite aware that Roxmouth, if he cannot marry me, will +slander me. It's a way some modern men have of covering their own +rejection and defeat. The woman in question is branded through the +'smart set' as 'peculiar,' 'difficult,' 'impossible to deal with'-- +oh yes!--I know it all! But I'm prepared for it--and just to +forestall Roxmouth a little, I'm going to have a few people down +here by way of witnesses to my '-peculiar' mode of life. Then they +can go back to London and talk." + +"They can, and they will,--you may be sure of that!" said Cicely, +satirically--"Is this a 'dressed' county, Maryllia?" + +Maryllia gave vent to a peal of laughter. + +"I should say not,--but I really don't know!" she replied,--"People +have called on me, but I have not, as yet, returned their calls. +We'll do that in this coming week. The only person I have seen, who +poses as a 'county' lady, is an elderly spinster named Tabitha +Pippitt, only daughter of Sir Morton Pippitt, who is a colonial +manufacturer, and, therefore, not actually in the 'county' at all. +Miss Tabitha was certainly not 'dressed,' she was merely covered." + +"That's the very height of propriety!" declared Cicely--"For, after +all, covering alone is necessary. 'Dress,' in the full sense of the +word, implies vanity and all its attendant sins. Gigue says you can +always pick out a very dull, respectable woman by the hidecmsness +of her clothes. I expect Miss Tabitha is dull." + +"She is--most unquestionably! But I'm afraid she is only a reflex of +country life generally, Cicely. Country life IS dull,--especially in +England." + +"Then why do you go in for it?" queried Cicely, arching her black +brows perplexedly. + +"Simply to escape something even duller,"--laughed Maryllia--"London +society and its 'Souls'!" + +Cicely laughed too, and shrugged her shoulders expressively. She +understood all that was implied. And with her whole heart she +rejoiced that her friend whom she loved with an almost passionate +adoration and gratitude, had voluntarily turned her back on the +'Smart Set,' and so, of her own accord, instead of through her +godfathers and godmothers, had 'renounced the devil and all his +works, the pomps and vanity of this wicked world and all the sinful +lusts of the flesh.' + +Within a very few days St. Rest became aware of Cicely's quaint +personality, for she soon succeeded in making herself familiar with +everybody in the place. She had a knack of winning friends. She +visited old Josey Letherbarrow, and made him laugh till he nearly +choked, so that Maryllia had to pat him vigorously on the back to +enable him to recover his breath--she cut jokes with Mrs. Tapple,-- +chatted with the sexton, Adam Frost, and scattered 'sweeties' galore +among all his children,--and she furthermore startled the village +choir at practice by suddenly flitting into the church and asking +Miss Eden, the schoolmistress, to allow her to play the organ +accompaniment, and on Miss Eden's consenting to this proposition, +she played in such a fashion that the church seemed filled with +musical thunder and the songs of angels,--and the village +choristers, both girls and boys, became awestruck and nervous, and +huddled themselves together in a silent group, afraid to open their +mouths lest a false note should escape, and spoil the splendour of +the wonderful harmony that so mysteriously charmed their souls. And +then, calming the passion of the music down, she turned with +gentlest courtesy to Miss Eden, and asked: 'What were the children +going to sing?'--whereupon, being told that it waft a hymn called +'The Lord is my Shepherd,' she so very sweetly entreated them to +sing it with her, that none of them could refuse. And she led them +all with wondrous care and patience, giving to the very simple tune, +a tender and noble pathos such as they had never heard before, yet +which they unconsciously absorbed into their own singing, as they +lifted up their youthful voices in tremulous unison. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want, + He maketh me down to lie, + In pleasant fields where the lilies grow. + And the river runneth by. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; He feedeth me + In the depth of a desert land, + And lest I should in the darkness slip, + He holdeth me by the hand. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want, + My mind on Him is stayed, + And though through the Valley of Death I walk, + I shall not be afraid. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; O Shepherd sweet, + Leave me not here to stray; + But guide me safe to Thy heavenly fold, + And keep me there, I pray!" + +John Walden, passing through the churchyard just at this time, heard +the rhythmic rise and fall of the quaint old melody with a strange +thrill at his heart. He had listened to the self-same hymn over and +over again,--every year the school-children re-studied and re-sang +it,--but there was something altogether new in its harmony this +time,--something appealing and pathetic which struck to the inmost +core of his sensitive nature. Noiselessly, he entered the church, +and for a moment or two stood unobserved, watching the little scene +before him. Cicely was at the organ, and her hands still rested on +the keys, but she was speaking to the members of the choir. + +"That is very nicely done,"--she said, encouragingly--"But you must +try and keep more steadily together in tune, must they not, Miss +Eden?"--and she turned to the schoolmistress at her side, who, with +a smile, agreed. "You"--and she touched pretty Susie Prescott on the +arm,--"You sing delightfully! It is a little voice--but so very +sweet!" + +Susie blushed deeply and curtsied. It had got about in the village +that Miss Vancourt's young friend from Paris was a musical +'prodigy,' and praise from her was something to be remembered. + +"Now listen!" went on Cicely--"I'm not going to sing full voice, +because I'm not allowed to yet,--but this is how that hymn should +go!" And her pure tones floated forth pianissimo, with slow and +tender solemnity:-- + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; O Shepherd sweet, + Leave me not here to stray; + But guide me safe to Thy heavenly fold, + And keep me there, I pray! + Amen!" + +Silence followed. The children stood wonder-struck, and Miss Eden's +eyes filled with emotional tears. + +"How beautiful!" she murmured--"How very beautiful!" + +Cicely rose from the organ-stool, and turned round. + +"Here is Mr. Walden," she said, in quite a matter-of-fact way as she +perceived him. "It IS Mr. Walden, isn't it?" + +"Yes, it is," replied John, advancing with a smile--"And very +fortunate Mr. Walden is to have heard such lovely singing!" + +"Oh, that's not lovely," said Cicely, carelessly--"I was only +humming the last verse, just to put the expression right. I thought +it must be you!--though, of course, as I have not been introduced to +you, I couldn't be sure! Maryllia--Miss Vancourt--has told me all +about you,--and I know she has written twice since I've been here to +ask you up to the Manor--once to tea, and once to dinner. Why +haven't you come?" Walden was slightly embarrassed by this point- +blank question. It was perfectly true he had received two +invitations from the lady of the Manor, and had refused both. Why he +had refused, he could not himself have told. + +"I suppose you didn't want to meet me!" said Cicely, showing all her +white teeth in a flashing smile--"But there's no escape for it, you +see,--here I am! I'm not such a rascal as I look, though! I've been +playing accompaniments for the children!--go on singing, please!"-- +and she addressed Miss Eden and Susie Prescott, who collecting their +straying thoughts, began hesitatingly to resume the interrupted +practice--"It's a nice little organ--very full and sweet. The church +is perfectly exquisite! I come in every day to look at it except +Sundays." + +"Why except Sundays?" asked Walden, amused. + +She gave him a quaint side-glance. + +"I'll tell you some day,--not now!"--she answered--"This is not the +fitting time or place." She moved to the altar rails, and hung over +them, looking at the alabaster sarcophagus "This thing has a +perfect fascination for me!" she went on--"I can't bear not to know +whose bones are inside! I wonder you haven't opened it." + +"It was not meant to be opened by those who closed it," said Walden, +quietly. + +Cicely drooped her gipsy-bright eyes. + +"That's one for me!" she thought--"He's just like what Maryllia says +he is,--very certain of his own mind, and not likely to move out of +his own way." + +"I think," pursued Walden--"if you knew that someone very dear to +you had been laid in that sarcophagus 'to eternal rest,' you would +resent any disturbance of even the mere dust of what was once life,- +-would you not?" + +"I might;" said Cicely dubiously--"But I have never had any 'someone +very dear to me' except Maryllia Vancourt. And if she died, I should +die too!" + +John was silent, but he looked at her with increased interest and +kindliness. + +They walked out of the church together, and once in the open air, he +became politely conventional. + +"And how is Miss Vancourt?" he enquired. + +"She is very well indeed,"--replied Cicely--"But tremendously busy +just now with no end of household matters. The new agent, Mr. +Stanways, is going over every yard of the Abbot's Manor property +with her, and she is making any quantity of new rules. All the +tenants' rents are to be reduced, for one thing--I know THAT. Then +there are a lot of London people coming down to stay--big house- +parties in relays,--I've helped write all the invitations. We shall +be simply crowded at the end of June and all July. We mean to be +very gay!" + +"And you will like that, of course?" queried Walden, indulgently, +while conscious of a little sense of hurt and annoyance, though he +knew not why. + +"Naturally!" and Cicely shrugged her shoulders carelessly, "Doesn't +the Bible say 'the laughter of fools is like the crackling of thorns +under a pot'? I love to set the pot down and hear the thorns +crackle!" + +What a weird girl she was! He looked at her in mute amaze, and she +smiled. + +"Do come up to tea some afternoon!" she said coaxingly, "We should +be so glad to see you! I know Maryllia would like it--she thinks you +are rather rude, you know! I'm to be here all the summer, but I'll +try to be good and not say things to vex you. And as you're a +clergyman, I can tell you all about myself--like the confessional +secrets! And when you hear some of my experiences, you won't wonder +a bit at my queer ways. I can't be like other girls of my age,--I +really CAN'T!--my life won't let me!" + +Her tone was one of light banter, but her eyes were wistful and +pathetic. Walden was conscious of a sudden sympathy with this wild +little soul of song, and taking her hand, pressed it kindly. + +"Wait till I see some of your 'queer ways,' as you call them!" he +said, with a genial laugh--"I know you sing very beautifully-is that +a 'queer way'?" + +Cicely shook her mop-like tresses of hair back over her shoulders +with a careless gesture. + +"It is--to people who can't do it!" she said. "Surely you know that? +For example, if you preach very well--I don't know that you do, +because I've never heard you, but Maryllia's housekeeper, Mrs. +Spruce, says you've got 'a mouth of angels'--she does really!" and, +as Walden laughed, she laughed with him--"Well, as I say, if you +preach very well with a mouth of angels, there must be several +parsons round here who haven't got that mouth, and who say of you, +of course metaphorically: 'He hath a devil'! Isn't it so?" + +John hesitated. + +"No doubt opinions differ,"---he began. + +"Oh, of course!--you can get out of it that way, if you like!" she +retorted, gaily--"You won't say uncharitable things of the rest of +your brethren if you can help it, but you know--yes, you must know +that parsons are as jealous of each other and as nasty to each other +as actors, singers, writers, or any other 'professional' persons in +the world. In fact, I believe if you were to set two spiteful +clergymen nagging at each other, they'd beat any two 'leading +ladies' on the operatic stage, for right-down malice and meanness!" + +"The conversation is growing quite personal!" said Walden, a broad +smile lighting up his fine soft eyes--"Shall we finish it at the +Manor when I come up to tea?" + +"But are you really coming?" queried Cicely--"And when?" + +"Suppose I say this afternoon---" he began. Cicely clapped her +hands. + +"Good! I'll scamper home and tell Maryllia! I'll say I have met you, +and that I've been as impudent as I possibly could be to you---" + +"No, don't say that!" laughed Walden--"Say that I have found you to +be a very delightful and original young lady---" + +"I'm not a young lady,"--said Cicely, decisively--"I was born a +peasant on the sea-coast of Cornwall--and I'm glad of it. A 'young +lady' nowadays means a milliner's apprentice or a draper's model. I +am neither. I am just a girl--and hope, if I live, to be a woman. +I'll take my own ideas of a suitable message from you to Maryllia-- +don't YOU bother!" And she nodded sagaciously. "I won't make +ructions, I promise! Come about five!" + +She waved her hand and ran off, leaving Walden in a mood between +perplexity and amusement. She was certainly an 'original,' and he +hardly knew what to make of her. There was something 'uncanny' and +goblin-like in her appearance, and yet her sallow face had a certain +charm when the smile illumined it, and the light of aspiration +burned up in the large wild eyes. In any case, she had persuaded him +in a moment, as it were, and almost involuntarily, to take tea at +the Manor that afternoon. Why he had consented to do what he had +hitherto refused, he could not imagine. Cicely's remark that Miss +Vancourt thought him 'rather rude,' worried him a little. + +"Perhaps I have been rude"--he reflected, uneasily--"But I am not a +society man;--I'm altogether out of my element in the company of +ladies--and it seemed so much better that I should avoid being drawn +into any intimacy with persons who are not likely to have anything +in common with me--but of course I ought to be civil--in fact, I +suppose I ought to be neighbourly---" + +Here a sudden irritation against the nature of his own thoughts +disturbed him. He was not arguing fairly with himself, and he knew +it. He was perfectly aware that ever since the day of their meeting +in the village post-office, he had wished to see Miss Vancourt +again. He had hoped she might pass the gate of the rectory, or +perhaps even look into his garden for a moment,--but his expectation +had not been realised. He had heard of Cicely Bourne's arrival,--and +he had received two charmingly-worded notes from Maryllia, inviting +him to the Manor,--which invitations, as has already been stated, he +had, with briefest courtesy, declined. Now, why,--if he indeed +wished to see her again,--had he deliberately refused the +opportunities given him of doing so? He could not answer this at all +satisfactorily to his own mind, and he was considerably annoyed with +himself to be forced to admit the existence of certain portions of +his mental composition which were apparently not to be probed by +logic, or measured by mathematics. + +"Well, at any rate, as I have promised the little singer, I can go +up to tea just this once, and have done with it," he decided--"I +shall then be exonerated from 'rudeness'--and I can explain to Miss +Vancourt--quite kindly and courteously of course--that I am not a +visiting man,--that my habits are rather those of a recluse, and +then--for the future--she will understand." + +Cicely Bourne, meanwhile, on her way back to the Manor through the +fields, paused many times to gather cowslips, which were blooming by +thousands in the grass at her feet, and as she recklessly pulled up +dozens of the pale-green stems, weighted with their nodding golden +honey-bells, she thought a good deal about John Walden. + +"Maryllia never told me he was handsome,"--she mused; "But he is! I +wonder why she didn't mention it? So odd of her,--because really +there are very few good-looking men anywhere, and one in the shape +of a parson is a positive rarity and ought to go on exhibition! He's +clever too--and--obstinate? Yes, I should say he was obstinate! But +he has kind eyes. And he isn't married. What a comfort THAT is! +Parsons are uninteresting enough in themselves as a rule, but their +wives are the last possibility in the way of dullness. Oh, that +honeysuckle!" And she sprang over the grass to the corner of a hedge +where a long trail of the exquisitely-scented flower hung +temptingly, as it seemed within reach, but when she approached it, +she found it just too high above her to be plucked from the bough +where its tendrils twined. Looking up at it, she carolled softly: + + "O Fortune capricieuse! + Comme tu es cruelle! + Pourquoi moques-tu ton esclave + Qui sert un destin immortel!" + +Here a sudden rustle in the leaves on the other side of the hedge +startled her, and a curious-looking human head adorned profusely +with somewhat disordered locks of red hair perked up enquiringly. +Cicely jumped back with an exclamation. + +"Saint Moses! What is it?" + +"It is me! Merely me!" and Sir Morton Pippitt's quondam guest, Mr. +Julian Adderley, rose to his full lanky height, and turned his +flaccid face of more or less comic melancholy upon her--"Pray do not +be alarmed! I have been reposing under the trees,--and I was, or so +I imagine, in a brief slumber, when some dulcet warblings as of a +nightingale awoke me"--here, stooping to the ground for his hat, he +secured it, and waved it expressively--"and I have, I fear, created +some dismay in the mind of the interesting young person who, if I +mistake not, is a friend of Miss Vancourt?" + +Cicely surveyed him with considerable amusement. + +"Never mind who _I_ am!" she said, coolly--"Tell me who YOU are! My +faith!--you are as rough all over as a bear! What have you been +doing to yourself? Your clothes are covered with leaves!" + +"Even as a Babe in the Wood!" responded Adderley, "Yes!--it is so!" +and he began to pick off delicately the various burs and scraps of +forest debris which had collected and clung to his tweed suit during +his open-air siesta--"To speak truly, I am a trespasser in these +domains,--they are the Manor woods, I know,--forbidden precincts, +and possibly guarded by spring-guns. But I heeded not the board +which speaks of prosecution. I came to gather bluebells,--innocent +bluebells!--merely that and no more, to adorn my humble cot,--I have +a cot not far from here. And as for my identity, my name is +Adderley--Julian Adderley--a poor scribbler of rhymes--a votre +service!" + +He waved his hat with a grand flourish again, and smiled. + +"Oh _I_ know!" said Cicely--"Maryllia has spoken of you--you've +taken a cottage here for the summer. Pick that bit of honeysuckle +for me, will you?--that long trail just hanging over you!" + +"With pleasure!" and he gathered the coveted spray and handed it to +her. + +"Thanks!" and she smiled appreciatively as she took it. "How did you +get into that wood? Did you jump the hedge?" + +"I did!" replied Adderley. + +"Could you jump it again?" + +"Most assuredly!" + +"Then do it!" + +Whereupon Adderley clapped his hat on his head, and resting a hand +firmly on one of the rough posts which supported the close green +barrier between them, vaulted lightly over it and stood beside her. + +"Not badly done,"--said Cicely, eyeing him quizzically--"for 'a poor +scribbler of rhymes' as you call yourself. Most men who moon about +and write verse are too drunken, and vicious to even see a hedge,-- +much less jump over it." + +"Oh, say not so!" exclaimed Adderley--"You are too young to pass +judgment on the gods!" + +"The gods!" exclaimed Cicely--"Whatever are you talking about? The +gods of Greece? They were an awful lot--perfectly awful! They +wouldn't have been admitted EVEN into modern society, and that's bad +enough. I don't think the worst woman that ever dined at a Paris +restaurant with an English Cabinet Minister would have spoken to +Venus, par exemple. I'm sure she wouldn't. She'd have drawn the line +there." + +"Gracious Heavens!" and Adderley stared in wonderment at his +companion, first up, then down,--at her wild hair, now loosened from +its convent form of pigtail, and scarcely restrained by the big sun- +hat which was tied on anyhow,--at her great dark eyes,--at her thin +angular figure and long scraggy legs,--legs which were still +somewhat too visible, though since her arrival at Abbot's Manor +Maryllia had made some thoughtful alterations in the dress of her +musical protegee which had considerably improved her appearance--"Is +it possible to hear such things---" + +"Why, of course it is, as you've got ears and HAVE heard them!" said +Cicely, with a laugh--"Don't ask 'is it possible' to do a thing when +you've done it! That's not logical,--and men do pride themselves on +their logic, though I could never find out why. Do you like +cowslips?" And she thrust the great bunch she had gathered up +against his nose--"There's a wordless poem for you!" + +Inhaling the fresh fine odour of the field blossoms, he still looked +at her in amazement, she meeting his gaze without the least touch of +embarrassment. + +"You can walk home with me, if you like!"--she observed +condescendingly--"I won't promise to ask you into the Manor, because +perhaps Maryllia won't want you, and I daresay she won't approve of +my picking up a young man in the woods. But it's rather fun to talk +to a poet,--I've never met one before. They don't come out in Paris. +They live in holes and corners, drinking absinthe to keep off +hunger." + +"Alas, that is so!" and Adderley began to keep pace with the thin +black-stockinged legs that were already starting off through the +long grass and flowers--"The arts are at a discount nowadays. +Poetry is the last thing people want to read." + +"Then why do you write it?" and Cicely turned a sharp glance of +enquiry upon him--"What's the good?" + +"There you offer me a problem Miss--er--Miss---" + +"Bourne,"--finished Cicely--"Don't fight with my name--it's quite +easy--though I don't know how I got it. I ought to have been a Tre +or a Pol-I was born in Cornwall. Never mind that,--go on with the +'problem.'" + +"True--go on with the problem,"--said Julian vaguely, taking off his +hat and raking his hair with his fingers as he was wont to do when +at all puzzled--"The problem is--'why do I write poetry if nobody +wants to read it'--and 'what's the good'? Now, in the first place, I +will reply that I am not sure I write 'poetry.' I try to express my +identity in rhythm and rhyme--but after all, that expression of +myself may be prose, and wholly without interest to the majority. +You see? I put it to you quite plainly. Then as to 'what's the +good?'--I would argue 'what's the bad?' So far, I live quite +harmlessly. From the unexpected demise of an uncle whom I never saw, +I have a life-income of sixty pounds a year. I am happy on that--I +desire no more than that. On that I seek to evolve myself into +SOMETHING--from a nonentity into shape and substance--and if, as is +quite possible, there can be no 'good,' there may be a certain less +of 'bad' than might otherwise chance to me. What think you?" + +Cicely surveyed him scrutinisingly. + +"I'm not at all sure about that"--she said--"Poets have all been +doubtful specimens of humanity at their best. You see their lives +are entirely occupied in writing what isn't true--and of course it +tells' on them in the long run. They deceive others first, and then +they deceive themselves, though in their fits of 'inspiration' as +they call it, they may, while weaving a thousand lies, accidentally +hit on one truth. But the lies chiefly predominate. Dante, for +example, was a perfectly brazen liar. He DIDN'T go to Hell, or +Purgatory, or Paradise--and he DIDN'T bother himself about Beatrice +at all. He married someone else and had a family. Nothing could be +more commonplace. He invented his Inferno in order to put his +enemies there, all roasting, boiling, baking or freezing. It was +pure personal spite--and it is the very force of his vindictiveness +that makes the Inferno the best part of hid epic. The portraits of +Dante alone are enough to show you the sort of man he was. WHAT a +creature to meet in a dark lane at midnight!" + +Here she made a grimace, drawing her mouth down into the elongated +frown of the famous Florentine, with such an irresistibly comic +effect that Adderley gave way to a peal of hearty, almost boyish +laughter. + +"That's right!" said Cicely approvingly--"That's YOU, you know! It's +natural to laugh at your age--you're only about six or seven-and- +twenty, aren't you?" + +"I shall be twenty-seven in August,"--he said with a swift return to +solemnity--"That is, as you will admit, getting on towards thirty." + +"Oh, nonsense! Everybody's getting on towards thirty, of course--or +towards sixty, or towards a hundred. I shall be fifteen in October, +but 'you will admit'"--here she mimicked his voice and accent--"that +I am getting on towards a hundred. Some folks think I've turned that +already, and that I'm entering my second century, I talk so 'old.' +But my talk is nothing to what I feel--I feel--oh!" and she gave a +kind of angular writhe to her whole figure--"like twenty Methusalehs +in one girl!" + +"You are an original!"--said Julian, nodding at her with an air of +superior wisdom--"That's what you are!" + +"Like you, Sir Moon-Calf"--said Cicely--"The word 'moon-calf,' you +know, stands for poet--it means a human calf that grazes on the +moon. Naturally the animal never gets fat,--nor will you; it always +looks odd--and so will you; it never does anything useful,--nor will +you; and it puts a kind of lunar crust over itself, under which +crust it writes verses. When you break through, its crust you find +something like a man, half-asleep--not knowing whether he's man or +boy, and uncertain, whether to laugh or be serious till some girl +pokes fun at him--and then---" + +"And then?"--laughed Adderley, entering vivaciously into her humour- +-"What next?" + +"This, next!"--and Cicely pelted him full in the face with one of +her velvety cowslip-bunches--'And this,--catch me if you can!" + +Away she flew over the grass, with Adderley after her. Through tall +buttercups and field daisies they raced each other like children,-- +startling astonished bees from repasts in clover-cups--and shaking +butterflies away from their amours on the starwort and celandines. +The private gate leading into Abbot's Manor garden stood open,-- +Cicely rushed in, and shut it against her pursuer who reached it +almost at the same instant. + +"Too bad!" he cried laughingly--"You mustn't keep me out! I'm bound +to come inside!" + +"Why?" demanded Cicely, breathless with her run, but looking all the +better for the colour in her cheeks and the light in her eyes--"I +don't see the line of argument at all. Your hair is simply dreadful! +You look like Pan, heated in the pursuit of a coy nymph of Delphos. +If you only wore skins and a pair of hoofs, the resemblance would be +perfect!" + +"My dear Cicely!" said a dulcet voice at this moment,--"Where HAVE +you been all the morning! How do you do, Mr. Adderley? Won't you +come in?" + +Adderley took off his hat, as Maryllia came across to the gate from +the umbrageous shadow of a knot of pine-trees, looking the +embodiment of fresh daintiness, in a soft white gown trimmed with +wonderfully knotted tufts of palest rose ribbon, and wearing an +enchanting 'poke' straw hat with a careless knot of pink hyacinths +tumbling against her lovely hair. She was a perfect picture 'after +Romney,' and Adderley thought she knew it. But there he was wrong. +Maryllia knew little and cared less about her personal appearance. + +"Where have you been?" she repeated, taking Cicely round the waist-- +"You wild girl! Do you know it is lunch time? I had almost given you +up. Spruce said you had gone into the village--but more than that +she couldn't tell me." + +"I did go to the village,"--said Cicely--"and I went into the +church, and played the organ, and helped the children sing a hymn. +And I met the parson, Mr. Walden, and had a talk with him. Then I +started home across the fields, and found this man"--and she +indicated Adderley with a careless nod of her head--"asleep in a +wood. I almost promised him some lunch--I didn't QUITE---" + +"My dear Miss Vancourt,"--protested Adderley--"Pray do not think of +such a thing!--I would not intrude upon you in this unceremonious +way for the world!" + +"Why not?" said Maryllia, smiling graciously--"It will be a pleasure +if you will stay to luncheon with us. Cicely has carte blanche here +you know--genius must have its way!" + +"Of course it must!"--agreed Cicely--"If genius wants to etand on +its head, it must be allowed to make that exhibition of itself lest +it should explode. If genius asks the lame, halt, blind and idiotic +into the ancestral halls of Abbot's Manor, then the lame, halt, +blind and idiotic are bound to come. If genius summons the god Pan +to pipe a roundelay, pipings there shall be! Shall there not, Mr. +Pan Adderley?" + +Her eyes danced with mirth and mischief, as they flashed from his +face to Maryllia's. "Genius,"--she continued--"can even call forth a +parson from the vasty deep if it chooses to do so,--Mr. Walden is +coming to tea this afternoon." + +"Indeed!" And Maryllia's sweet voice was a trifle cold. "Did you +invite him, Cicely?" + +"Yes. I told him that you thought it rather rude of him not to have +come before---" + +"Oh Cicely!" said Maryllia reproachfully--"You should not have said +that!" + +"Why not? You did think him rude,--and so did I,--to refuse two kind +invitations from you. Anyhow he seemed sorry, and said he'd make up +for it this afternoon. He's really quite good-looking." + +"Quite--quite!" agreed Julian Adderley--"I considered him +exceptionally so when I first saw him in his own church, opposing a +calm front to the intrusive pomposity and appalling ignorance of our +venerable acquaintance, Sir Morton Pippitt. I decided that I had +found a Man. So new!--so fresh! That is why I took a cottage for the +summer close by, that I might be near the rare specimen!" + +Maryllia laughed. + +"Are you not a man yourself?" she said. + +"Not altogether!" he admitted,--"I am but half-grown. I am a raw and +impleasing fruit even to my own palate. John Walden is a ripe and +mellow creature,--moreover, he seems still ripening in constant +sunshine. I go every Sunday to hear him preach, because he reminds +me of so much that I had forgotten." + +Here they went into luncheon. Maryllia threw off her hat as she +seated herself at the head of the table, ruffling her hair with the +action into prettier waves of brown-gold. Her cheeks were softly +flushed,--her blue eyes radiant. + +"You are a better parishioner than I am, Mr. Adderley!"--she said-- +"I have not been to church once since I came home. I never go to +church." + +"Naturally! I quite understand! Few people of any education or +intelligence can stand it nowadays," he replied--"The Christian myth +is well-nigh exploded. Yet one cannot help having a certain sympathy +and interest in men, who, like Mr. Walden, appear to still honestly +believe in it." + +"The Christian myth!" echoed Cicely--"My word! You do lay down the +law! Where should we be without the 'myth' I wonder?" + +"Pretty much where we are now,"--said Julian--"Two thousand years of +the Christian dispensation leaves the world still pagan. Self- +indulgence is still paramount. Wealth still governs both classes and +masses. Politics are still corrupt. Trade still plays its old game +of 'beggar my neighbour.' What would you! And in this day there is +no restraining influence on the laxity of social morals. Literature +is decadent,--likewise Painting;--Sculpture and Poetry are moribund. +Man's inborn monkeyishness is obtaining the upper hand and bearing +him back to his natural filth,--and the glimmerings of the Ideal as +shown forth in a few examples of heroic and noble living are like +the flash of the rainbow-arch spanning a storm-cloud,--beautiful, +but alas!--evanescent." + +"I'm afraid you are right"--said Maryllia, with a little sigh; "It +is very sad and discouraging, but I fear very true." + +"It's nothing of the kind!"--declared Cicely, with quick vehemence-- +"It's just absolute nonsense! It is! Ah, 'never shake thy gory locks +at me,' Sir Moon-Calf!" and she made a little grimace across the +table at Julian, who responded to it with a complacent smile--"You +can talk, talk, talk--of course! every man that ever sat in clubs, +smoking and drinking, can talk one's head off--but you've got to +LIVE, as well as talk! What do you know about self-indulgence being +'paramount,' except in your own case, eh? Do you think at all of the +thousands and thousands of poor creatures everywhere, who completely +sacrifice their lives to the needs of others?" + +"Of course there are such--" admitted Adderley; "But---" + +"No 'buts' come into the case," went on the young girl, her eyes +darkening with the earnestness of her thoughts--"I have seen quite +enough even in my time to know how good and kind to one another even +the poorest people can be. And I have had plenty of hardships to +endure, too! But I can tell you one thing--and that is, that the +Christian 'myth' as you call it, is just the one thing that makes MY +life worth living! I don't want to talk about religion--I never do,- +-I only just say this--that the great lesson of Christianity is +exactly what we most need to learn." + +"In what way?" asked Julian, smiling indulgently. + +"Why,--merely that if one is honest and true, one MUST be crucified. +Therefore one is prepared,--and there's no need to cry out when the +nails are driven in. The Christian 'myth' teaches us what to expect, +how to endure, and how at last to triumph!" + +A lovely light illuminated her face, and Maryllia looked at her very +tenderly. Adderley was silent. + +"Nothing does one so much good as to be hurt,"--went on Cicely in a +lighter tone--"You then become aware that you are a somebody whom +other bodies envy. You never know how high you have climbed till you +feel a few dirty hands behind you trying to pull you down! When I +start my career as a singer, I shall not be satisfied till I get +anonymous letters every morning, telling me what a fraud and failure +I am. Then I shall realise that I am famous!" + +"Alas!" said Julian with a comically resigned air--"I shall never be +of sufficient importance for that! No one would waste a penny stamp +on me! All I can ever hope to win is the unanimous abuse of the +press. That will at least give me an interested public!" + +They laughed. + +"Is Mr. Marius Longford a great friend of yours?" enquired Maryllia. + +"Ah, that I cannot tell!" replied Julian--"He may be friend, or he +may be foe. He writes for a great literary paper--and is a member of +many literary clubs. He has produced three books--all monstrously +dull. But he has a Clique. Its members are sworn to praise Longford, +or die. Indeed, if they do not praise Longford, they become +mysteriously exterminated, like rats or beetles. I myself have +praised Longford, lest I also get a dose of his unfailing poison. He +will not praise me--but no matter for that. If he would only abuse +me!--but he won't! His blame is far more valuable than his eulogy. +At present he stands like a kind of neutral whipping-post--very much +in my way!" + +"He knows Lord Roxmouth, he tells me,"--went on Maryllia; whereat +Cicely's sharp glance flashed at her inquisitively--"Lord Roxmouth +is by way of being a patron of the arts." + +The tone of her voice, slightly contemptuous, was not lost on +Adderley. He fancied he was on dangerous ground. + +"I have never met Lord Roxmouth myself"--he said--"But I have heard +Longford speak of him. Longford however rather 'makes' for society. +I do not. Longford is quite at home with dukes and duchesses---" + +"Or professes to be--" put in Maryllia, with a slight smile. + +"Or professes to be,--I accept the correction!" agreed Adderley. + +"Personally, I know nothing of him,"--said Maryllia--"I have never +seen him at any of the functions in London, and I should imagine him +to be a man who rather over-estimated himself. So many literary men +do. That is why most of them are such terrible social bores." + +"To the crime of being a literary man I plead not guilty!" and +Julian folded his hands in a kind of mock-solemn appeal--"Moreover, +I swear never to become one!" + +"Good boy!" smiled Cicely--"Be a modern Pan, and run away from all +the literary cliques, kicking up the dust behind you in their faces +as you go! Roam the woods in solitude and sing! + + "'The wind in the reeds and the rushes, + The bees on the bells of thyme, + The birds on the myrtle bushes, + The cicale above in the lime, + And the lizards below in the grass, + Were as silent as ever old Tinolus was, + Listening to my sweet pipings!'" + +"Ah, Shelley!" cried Adderley--"Shelley the divine! And how divinely +you utter his lines! Do you know the last verse of that poem:--'I +sang of the dancing stars'?" + +Cicely raised her hand, commanding attention, and went on: + + "'I sang of the dancing stars, + I sang of the daedal Earth, + And of Heaven,--and the giant wars, + And Love and Death and Birth. + And then I changed my pipings,-- + Singing, how down the vale of Menalus, + I pursued a maiden and clasped a reed, + Gods and men, we are all deluded thus! + It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed; + All wept, as I think both ye now would, + If envy or age had not frozen your blood, + At the sorrow of my sweet pipings!'" + +"Beau-tiful!--beau-tiful!" sighed Adderley--"But so remote!--so very +remote! Alas!--who reads Shelley now!" + +"I do"--said Cicely--"Maryllia does. You do. And many more. Shelley +didn't write for free-libraries and public-houses. He wrote for the +love of Art,--and he was drowned. You do the same, and perhaps +you'll be hung! It doesn't much matter how you end, so long as you +begin to be something no one else can be." + +"You have certainly begun in that direction!" said Julian. + +Cicely shrugged her shoulders. + +"I don't know! I am myself. Most people try to be what they're not. +Such a waste of time and effort! That's why I've taken a fancy to +the parson I met this morning, Mr. Walden. He is himself and no +other. He is as much himself as old Josey Letherbarrow is. Josey is +an individuality. So is Mr. Walden. So is Maryllia. So am I. And"-- +here she pointed a witch-like finger at Adderley--"so would you bes +if you didn't 'pose' as much as you do!" + +"Cicely!" murmured Maryllia, warningly, though she smiled. + +A slight flush swept over Adderley's face. But he took the remark +without offence, thereby showing himself to be of better mettle than +the little affectations of his outward appearance indicated. + +"You think so?" he said, placidly--"That is very dear of you!--very +young! You may be right--you may be wrong,--but from one so +unsophisticated as yourself it is a proposition worth considering-- +to pose, or not to pose! It is so new--so fresh!" + + + + +XVI + + +Walden kept his promise and duly arrived to tea at the Manor that +afternoon. He found his hostess in the library with Cicely and +Julian. She was showing to the latter one or two rare 'first +editions,' and was talking animatedly, but she broke off her +conversation the moment he was announced, and advanced to meet him +with a bright smile. + +"At last, Mr. Walden!" she said--"I am glad Cicely has succeeded +where I failed, in persuading you to accept the welcome that has +awaited you here for some time!" + +The words were gracefully spoken, with just the faintest trace of +kindly reproach in their intonation. Simple as they were, they +managed to deprive John of all power to frame a suitable reply. He +bowed over the little white hand extended to him, and murmured +something which was inaudible even to himself, while he despised +what he considered his own foolishness, clumsiness and general +ineptitude from the bottom of his heart. Maryllia saw his +embarrassment, and hastened to relieve him of it. + +"We have been talking books,"--she said, lightly--"Mr. Adderley has +almost knelt in adoration before my Shakespeare 'first folio.' It is +very precious, being uncalendared in the published lists of ordinary +commentators. I suppose you have seen it?" + +"Indeed I have"--replied Walden, as he shook hands with Cicely and +nodded pleasantly to Julian--"I'm afraid, Miss Vancourt, that if you +knew how often I have sat alone in this library, turning over the +precious volumes, you might be very angry with me! But I have saved +one or two from the encroaches of damp, such as the illuminated +vellum 'Petrarch,' and some few rare manuscripts--so you must try to +forgive my trespass. Mrs. Spruce used to let me come in and study +here whenever I liked." + +"Will you not do so still?" queried Maryllia, sweetly--"I can +promise you both solitude and silence." + +Again a wave of awkwardness overcame him. What could he say in +response to this friendly and gentle graciousness! + +"You are very kind,"--he murmured. + +"Not at all. The library is very seldom used--so the kindness will +be quite on your side if you can make it of service. I daresay you +know more about the books than I do. My father was very proud of +them." + +"He had cause to be,"--said Walden, beginning to recover his +equanimity and ease as the conversation turned into a channel which +was his natural element--"It is one of the finest collections in +England. The manuscripts alone are worth a fortune." Here he moved +to the table where Adderley stood turning over a wondrously painted +'Book of Hours'--"That is perfect twelfth-century work"--he said-- +"There is a picture in it which ought to please Miss Cicely," and he +turned the pages over tenderly--"Here it is,--the loveliest of Saint +Cecilias, in the act of singing!" + +Cicely smiled with pleasure, and hung over the beautifully +illuminated figure, surrounded with angels in clouds of golden +glory. + +"There's one thing about Heaven which everybody seems agreed upon,"- +-she said--"It's a place where we're all expected to sing!" + +"Not a doubt of it!" agreed Walden--"You will be quite in your +element!" + +"The idea of Heaven is remote--so very remote!" said Adderley--"But +if such a place existed, and I were bound to essay a vocal effort +there, I should transform it at once to Hell! The angels would never +forgive me!" + +They laughed. + +"Let us go into the garden"--said Maryllia--"It is quite lovely just +now,--there are such cool deep shadows on the lawn." + +Cicely at once ran out, beckoning Adderley to follow. Maryllia tied +on her hat with its pink strings and its bunch of pink hyacinths +tumbling against her small shell-like ear, and looked up from under +its brim with an entrancing smile. + +"Will you come, Mr. Walden?" + +John murmured something politely inarticulate in assent. He was, as +has already been stated, apt to be rather at a loss in the company +of women, unless they were well-seasoned matrons and grandames, with +whom he could converse on the most ordinary and commonplace topics, +such as the curing of hams, the schooling of children, or the best +remedies for rheumatism. A feminine creature who appeared to exist +merely to fascinate the eye and attract the senses, moved him to a +kind of mental confusion, which affected himself chiefly, as no one, +save the most intimate of his friends, would ever have noticed it, +or guessed that he was at any sort of pains to seem at ease. Just +now, as he took his soft shovel-hat, and followed his fair hostess +out on the lawn, his mind was more or less in a state of chaos, and +the thoughts that kept coming and going were as difficult to put +into consecutive order as a Chinese puzzle. One uncomfortable memory +however sat prominently in a corner of his brain like the mocking +phantasm of a mischievous Puck, pointing its jeering finger and +reminding him of the fact, not to be denied, that but a short while +ago, he had made up his mind to dislike, ay, even to detest, that +mysterious composition of white and rose, blue eyes and chestnut- +gold hair, called Maryllia Vancourt,--that he had resolved she would +be an altogether objectionable personage in the village--HIS +village--of St. Rest,--and that he had wished--Ah! what had he +wished? Back, O teazing reminder of the grudging and suspicious +spirit that had so lately animated the soul of a Christian cleric! +Yet it had to be admitted, albeit now reluctantly, that he had +actually wished the rightful mistress of Abbot's Manor had never +returned to it! Smitten with sorest compunction at the recollection +of his former blind prejudice against the woman he had then never +seen, he walked by her side over the warm soft grass, listening with +a somewhat preoccupied air to the remarks she was making concerning +Cicely Bourne, and the great hopes she entertained of the girl's +future brilliant career. + +"Really," she declared, "the only useful thing I have ever done in +my life is to rescue Cicely from uncongenial surroundings, and +provide her with all she needs for her musical studies. To help +bring out a great genius gives ME some little sense of importance, +you see! In myself I am such an utter nonentity." + +She laughed. Walden looked at her with an earnestness of which he +was scarcely conscious. She coloured a little, and her eyes fell. +Something in the sudden delicate flush of her cheeks and the quick +droop of her eyelashes startled him,--he felt a curious sense of +contrition, as though he had given her some indefinable, altogether +shadowy cause for that brief discomposure. The idea that she seemed, +even for a second, not quite so much at her ease, restored his own +nerve and self-possession, and it was with an almost paternal +gentleness that he said. + +"Do you really consider yourself a nonentity, Miss Vancourt? I am +sure the society you have left behind you in London does not think +you so." + +She opened her sea-blue eyes full upon him. + +"Society? Why do you speak of it? Its opinion of me or of anyone +else, is surely the last thing a sensible man. or woman would care +for, I imagine! One 'season' of it was enough for me. I have +unfortunately had several 'seasons,' and they were all too many." + +Again Walden looked at her, but this time she did not seem to be +aware of his scrutiny. + +"Do you take me for a member of the 'smart' set, Mr. Walden?" she +queried, gaily--"You are very much mistaken if you do! I have +certainly mixed with it, and know all about it--much to my regret-- +but I don't belong to it. Of course I like plenty of life and +amusement, but 'society' as London and Paris and New York express it +in their modes and manners and 'functions,' is to me the dullest +form of entertainment in the world." + +Walden was silent. She gave him a quick side-glance of enquiry. + +"I suppose you have been told something about me?" she said-- +"Something which represents me otherwise than as I represent myself. +Have you?" + +At this abrupt question John fairly started out of his semi- +abstraction in good earnest. + +"My dear Miss Vancourt!" he exclaimed, warmly--"How can you think of +such a thing! I have never heard a word about you, except from good +old Mrs. Spruce who knew you as a child, and who loves to recall +these days,--and--er--and---" + +He broke off, checking himself with a vexed gesture. + +"And--er--and--er--who else?" said Maryllia, smiling---"Now don't +play tricks with ME, or I'll play tricks with YOU!" + +His eyes caught and reflected her smile. + +"Well,--Sir Morton Pippitt spoke of you once in my hearing"--he +said--"And a friend of his whom he brought to see the church, the +Duke of Lumpton. Also a clergyman in this neighbourhood, a Mr. +Leveson--rector at Badsworth--HE mentioned you, and presumed"--here +John paused a moment,--"yes, I think I may say presumed--to know yon +personally." + +"Did he really! I never heard of him!" And she laughed merrily. "Mr. +Walden, if I were to tell you the number of people who profess to +know ME whom _I_ do not know and never WILL know, you would be +surprised! I never spoke to Sir Morton Pippitt in my life till the +other day, though he pretends he has met me,-but he hasn't. He may +have seen me perhaps by chance when I was a child in the nursery, +but I don't remember anything about him. My father never visited any +of the people here,--we lived very much to ourselves. As for the +Duke of Lumpton,--well!--nobody knows him that can possibly avoid +it--and I have never even so much as seen him. Aunt Emily may +possibly have spoken of me in these persons' hearing--that's quite +likely,--but they know nothing of me at first hand." She paused a +moment, "Look at Cicely!" she said--"How quickly she makes friends! +She and Mr. Adderley are chattering away like two magpies!" + +Walden looked in the direction indicated, and saw the couple at some +distance off, under the great cedar-tree which was the chief +ornament of the lawn,--Cicely seated in a low basket-chair, and +Adderley stretched on the grass at her feet. Both were talking +eagerly, both were gesticulating excitedly, and both looked exactly +what they were, two very eccentric specimens of humanity. + +"They seem perfectly happy!" he said, smiling--"Adderley is a +curious fellow, but I think he has a good heart. He puts on a +mannerism, because he has seen the members of a certain literary +'set' in London put it on--but he'll drop that in time,--when he is +a little older and wiser. He has been in to see me once or twice +since he took up his residence here for the summer. He tries to +discuss religion with me--or rather, I should say. irreligion. His +own special 'cult' is the easy paganism of Omar Kayyam." + +"Is he clever?" + +"I think he is. He has a more or less original turn of mind. He read +me some of his verses the other day." + +"Poor you!" laughed Maryllia. + +"Well, I was inclined to pity myself when he first began"--said +Walden, laughing also--"But I must confess I was agreeably +surprised. Some of his fancies are quite charming." + +They had been walking slowly across the lawn, and were now within a +few steps of the big cedar-tree. + +"I must take you into the rose-garden, Mr. Walden!"--and she raised +her eyes to his with that childlike confiding look which was one of +her special charms,--"The roses are just budding out, and I want you +to see them before the summer gets more advanced. Though I daresay +you know every rosebush in the place, don't you?" + +"I believe I do!" he admitted--"You see an old fogey like myself is +bound to have hobbies, and my particular hobby is gardening. I love +flowers, and I go everywhere I can, or may, to see them and watch +their growth. So that for years I have visited your rose-garden, +Miss Vancourt! I have been a regular and persistent trespasser,--but +all the same, I have never plucked a rose." + +"Well, I wish you had!" said Maryllia, feeling somewhat impatient +with him for calling himself an 'old fogey,'--why did he give +himself away?--she thought,--"I wish you had plucked them all and +handed them round in baskets to the villagers, especially to the old +and sick persons. It would have been much better than to have had +them sold at Riversford through Oliver Leach." + +"Did he sell them?" exclaimed John, quickly--"I am not surprised!" + +"He sold everything, and put the money in his own pocket"--said +Maryllia,--"But, after all, the loss is quite my own fault. I ought +to have enquired into the management of the property myself. And I +certainly ought not to have stayed away from home so many years. But +it's never too late to mend!" She smiled, and advancing a step or +two called "Cicely!" + +Cicely turned, looking up from beneath her spreading canopy of dark +cedar boughs. + +"Oh, Maryllia, we're having such fun!" she exclaimed--"Mr. Adderley +is talking words, and I'm talking music! We'll show you how it goes +presently!" + +"Do, please!" laughed Maryllia; "It must be delightful! Mr. Walden +and I are going into the rose-garden. We shall be back in a few +minutes!" + +She moved along, her white dress floating softly over the green +turf, its delicate flounces and knots of rosy ribbon looking like a +trail of living flowers. Walden, walking at her side, nodded +smilingly as he passed close by Cicely and Julian, his tall athletic +figure contrasting well with Maryllia's fairy-like grace,--and +presently, crossing from the lawn to what was called the 'Cherry- +Tree Walk,' because the path led under an arched trellis work over +which a couple of hundred cherry-trees were trained to form a long +arbour or pergola, they turned down it, and drawing closer together +in conversation, under the shower of white blossoms that shed +fragrance above their heads, they disappeared. Cicely, struck by a +certain picturesqueness, or what she would have called a 'stage +effect' in the manner of their exit, stopped abruptly in the +pianissimo humming of a tune with which she declared she had been +suddenly inspired by some lines Adderley had just recited. + +"Isn't she pretty!" she said, indicating with a jerk of her ever +gesticulating hand the last luminous glimmer of Maryllia's vanishing +gown--"She's like Titania,--or Kilmeny in Fairyland. Why don't you +write something about HER, instead of about some girl you 'imagine' +and never see?" + +Adderley, lying at his ease on the grass, turned on his arm and +likewise looked after the two figures that had just passed, as it +seemed, into a paradise of snowy flowers. + +"The girls I 'imagine' are always so much better than those I see,"- +-he replied, with uncomplimentary candour. + +"Thank you!" said Cicely--"You are quite rude, you know! But it +doesn't matter." + +He stared up at her in vague astonishment. + +"Oh, I didn't mean you!" he explained--"You're not a girl." + +"No, really!" ejaculated Cicely--"Then what am I, pray?" + +He looked at her critically,--at her thin sallow little face with +the intense eyes burning like flame under her well-marked black +eyebrows,--at her drooping angular arms and unformed figure, +tapering into the scraggy, long black-stockinged legs which ended in +a pair of large buckled shoes that covered feet of a decidedly flat- +iron model,--then he smiled oddly. + +"You are a goblin!"--he said--"An elf,--a pixie--a witch! You were +born in a dark cave where the sea dashed in at high tide and made +the rough stones roar with music. There were sea-gulls nesting above +your cradle, and when the wind howled, and you cried, they called to +you wildly in such a plaintive way that you stopped your tears to +listen to them, and to watch their white wings circling round you! +You are not a girl--no!--how can you be? For when you grew a little +older, the invisible people of the air took you away into a great +forest, and taught you to swing yourself on the boughs of the trees, +while the stars twinkled at you through the thick green leaves,--and +you heard the thrushes sing at morning and the nightingales at +evening, till at last you learned the trill and warble and the +little caught sob in the throat which almost breaks the heart of +those who listen to it? And so you have become what you are, and +what I say you always will be--a goblin--a witch!--not a girl, but a +genius!" + +He waved his hand with fantastic gesture and raked up his hair. + +"That's all very well and very pretty,"--said Cicely, showing her +even white teeth in a flashing 'goblin' grin,--"But of course you +don't mean a word of it! It's merely a way of talking, such as +poets, or men that call themselves poets, affect when the 'fit' is +on them. Just a string of words,--mere babble! You'd better write +them down, though,--you musn't waste them! Publishers pay for so +many words I believe, whether they're sense or nonsense,--please +don't lose any halfpence on my account! Do you know you are smiling +up at the sky as if you were entirely mad? Ordinary people would say +you were,--people to whom dinner is the dearest thing in life would +suggest your being locked up. And me, too, I daresay! You haven't +answered my question,--why don't you write something about +Maryillia?" + +"She, too, is not a girl,"--rejoined Adderley--"She is a woman. And +she is absolutely unwritable!" + +"Too lovely to find expression even in poetry,"--said Cicely, +complacently. + +"No no!--not that! Not that!" And Adderley gave a kind of serpentine +writhe on the grass as he raised himself to a half-sitting posture-- +"Gentle Goblin, do not mistake me! When I say that Miss Vancourt is +unwritable, I would fain point out that she is above and beyond the +reach of my Muse. I cannot 'experience' her! Yes--that is so! What a +poet needs most is the flesh model. The flesh model may be Susan, or +Sarah, or Jane of the bar and tap-room,--but she must have lips to +kiss, hair to touch, form to caress---" + +"Saint Moses!" cried Cicely, with an excited wriggle of her long +legs--"Must she?" + +"She must!" declared Julian, with decision--"Because when you have +kissed the lips, you have experienced a 'sensation,' and you can +write--'Ah, how sweet the lips I love.' You needn't love them, of +course,--you merely try them. She must be amenable and good-natured, +and allow herself to be gazed at for an hour or so, till you decide +the fateful colour of her eyes. If they are blue, you can paraphrase +George Meredith on the 'Blue is the sky, blue is thine eye' system-- +if black, you can recall the 'Lovely as the light of a dark eye in +woman,' of Byron. She must allow you to freely encircle her waist +with an arm, so that having felt the emotion you can write--"How +tenderly that yielding form, Thrills to my touch!' And then,--even +as a painter who pays so much per hour for studying from the life,-- +you can go away and forget her--or you can exaggerate her charms in +rhyme, or 'imagine' that she is fairer than Endymion's moon-goddess- +-for so long as she serves you thus she is useful,--but once her +uses are exhausted, the poet has done with her, and seeks a fresh +sample. Hence, as I say, your friend Miss Vancourt is above my +clamour for the Beautiful. I must content myself with some humbler +type, and 'imagine' the rest!" + +"Well, I should think you must, if that's the way you go to work!" +said Cicely, with eyes brimful of merriment and mischief--"Why you +are worse than the artists of the Quartier Latin! If you must needs +'experience' your models, I wonder that Susan, Sarah and Jane of the +bar and tap-room are good enough for you!" + +"Any human female suffices,"--murmured Julian, drowsily, "Provided +she is amenable,--and is not the mother of a large family. At the +spectacle of many olive branches, the Muse shrieks a wild farewell!" +Cicely broke into a peal of laughter. + +"You absurd creature!" she said--"You don't mean half the nonsense +you talk--you know you don't!" + +"Do I not? But then, what do I mean? Am I justified in assuming that +I mean anything?" And he again ran his fingers through his ruddy +locks abstractedly. "No,--I think not! Therefore, if I now make a +suggestion, pray absolve me from any serious intentions underlying +it--and yet---" + +"'And yet'--what?" queried Cicely, looking at him with some +curiosity. + +"Ah! 'And yet'! Such little words, 'and yet'!" he murmured--"They +are like the stepping-stones across a brook which divides one sweet +woodland dell from another! 'And yet'!" He sighed profoundly, and +plucking a daisy from the turf, gazed into its golden heart +meditatively. "What I would say, gentle Goblin, is this,--you call +me Moon-calf, therefore there can be no objection to my calling you +Goblin, I think?" + +"Not the least in the world!" declared Cicely--"I rather like it!" + +"So good of you!--so dear!" he said, softly--"Well!--'and yet'--as I +have observed, the Muse may, like the Delphic oracle, utter words +without apparent signification, which only the skilled proficient at +her altar may be able to unravel. Therefore,--in this precise +manner, my suggestion may be wholly without point,--or it may not." + +"Please get on with it, whatever it is,"--urged Cicely, impatiently- +-"You're not going to propose to me, are you? Because, if so, it's +no use. I'm too young, and I only met you this morning!" + +He threw the daisy he had just plucked at her laughing face. + +"Goblin, you are delicious!" he averred--"But the ghastly spectre of +matrimony does not at present stand in my path, luring me to the +frightful chasms of domesticity, oblivion and despair. What was it +the charming Russian girl Bashkirtseff wrote on this very subject? +'Me marier et'---?" + +"I can tell you!" exclaimed Cicely--"It was the one sentence in the +whole book that made all the men mad, because it showed such utter +contempt for them! 'Me marier et avoir des enfants? Mais--chaque +blanchisseuse peut en faire autant! Je veux la gloire!' Oh, how I +agree with her! Moi, aussi, je veux la gloire!" + +Her dark eyes flamed into passion,--for a moment she looked almost +beautiful. Adderley stared languidly at her as he would have stared +at the heroine of an exciting scene on the stage, with indolent, yet +critical interest. + +"Goblin incroyable!" he sighed--"You are so new!--so fresh!" + +"Like salad just gathered," said Cicely, calming down suddenly from +his burst of enthusiasm--"And what of your 'suggestion'?" + +"My suggestion," rejoined Adderley--"is one that may seem to you a +strange one. It is even strange to myself! But it has flashed into +my brain suddenly,--and even so inspiration may affect the dullard. +It is this: Suppose the Parson fell in love with the Lady, or the +Lady fell in love with the Parson? Either, neither, or both?" + +Cicely sat up straight in her chair as though she had been suddenly +pulled erect by an underground wire. + +"What do you mean?" she asked--"Suppose the parson fell in love with +the lady or the lady with the parson! Is it a riddle?" + +"It may possibly become one;" he replied, complacently--"But to +speak more plainly--suppose Mr. Walden fell in love with Miss +Vancourt, or Miss Vancourt fell in love with Mr. Walden, what would +you say?" + +"Suppose a Moon-calf jumped over the moon!" said Cicely +disdainfully--"Saint Moses! Maryllia is as likely to fall in love as +I am,--and I'm the very last possibility in the way of sentiment. +Why, whatever are you thinking of? Maryllia has heaps of men in, +love with her,--she could marry to-morrow if she liked." + +"Ay, no doubt she could marry--that is quite common--but perhaps she +could not love!" And Julian waved one hand expressively. "To love is +so new!--so fresh!" + +"But Maryllia would never fall in love with a PARSON!" declared +Cicely, almost resentfully--"A parson!--a country parson too! The +idea is perfectly ridiculous!" + +A glimmer of white in the vista of the flowering 'Cherry-Tree Walk' +here suddenly appeared and warned her that Maryllia and the Reverend +John were returning from their inspection of the rose-garden. She +cheeked herself in an outburst of speech and silently watched them +approaching. Adderley watched them too with a kind of lachrymose +interest. They were deep in conversation, and Maryllia carried a +bunch of white and blush roses which she had evidently just +gathered. She looked charmingly animated, and now and then a light +ripple of her laughter floated out on the air as sweet as the songs +of the birds chirming around them. + +"The roses are perfectly lovely!" she exclaimed delightedly, as she +came under the shadow of the great cedar-tree; "Mr. Walden says he +has never seen the standards so full of bud." Here she held the +cluster she had gathered under Cicely's nose. "Aren't they +delicious! Oh, by the bye, Mr. Walden, I have promised you one! You +must have it, in return for the spray of lilac you gave me when I +came to see YOUR garden! Now you must take a rose from mine!" And, +laying all the roses on Cicely's lap, she selected one delicate +half-opened, blush-white bloom. "Shall I put it in your coat for +you?" + +"If you will so far honour me!" answered Walden;--he was strangely +pale, and a slight tremor passed over him as he looked down at the +small fingers,--pink-tipped as the petals of the flower they so +deftly fastened in his buttonhole; "And how"--he continued, with an +effort, addressing Cicely and Julian--"How have Music and Poetry got +on together?" + +"Oh, we're not married yet,"--said Cicely, shaking off the dumb +spell which Adderley's 'suggestion' had for a moment cast upon her +mind--"We ought to be, of course,--for a real good opera. But we're +only just beginning courtship. Mr. Adderley has recited some lines +of his own composition, and I have improvised some music. You shall +hear the result some day." + +"Why not now?" queried Maryllia, as she seated herself in another +chair next to Cicely's under the cedar boughs, and signed to Walden +to do the same. + +"Why, because I believe that the tea is about to arrive. I saw the +majestic Primmins in the distance, wrestling with a table--didn't +you, Mr. Adderley?" + +Adderley rose from his half recumbent position on the grass, and +shading his eyes from the afternoon sunshine, looked towards the +house. + +"Yes,--it is even so!" he replied--"Primmins and a subordinate are +on the way hither with various creature comforts. Music and Poetry +must pause awhile. Yet why should there be a pause? It is for this +that I am a follower of Omar Kayyam. He was a materialist as well as +a spiritualist, and his music admits of the aforesaid creature +comforts as much as the exalted and subtle philosophies and ironies +of life." + +"Poor Omar!" said Walden,--"The pretty piteousness of him is like +the wailing of a lamb led to the slaughter. Grass is good to graze +on, saith lambkin,--other lambs are fair to frisk with,--but alas!-- +neither grass nor lambs can last, and therefore as lambkin cannot +always be lambkin, it bleats its end in Nothingness! But, thank God, +there is something stronger and wiser in the Universe than lambkin!" + +"True!" said Adderley, "But even lambkin has a right to complain of +its destiny." + +Walden smiled. + +"I think not,"--he rejoined--"No created thing has a right to +complain of its destiny. It finds itself Here,--and the fact that it +IS Here is a proof that there is a purpose for its existence. What +that purpose is we do not know yet, but we SHALL know!" + +Adderley lifted dubious eyelids. + +"You think we shall?" + +"Most assuredly! What does Dante Rosetti say?-- + + 'The day is dark and the night + To him that would search their heart; + No lips of cloud that will part + Nor morning song in the light; + Only, gazing alone + To him wild shadows are shown, + Deep under deep unknown, + + And height above unknown height + Still we say as we go: + "Strange to think by the way + Whatever there is to know + That shall we know one day."'" + +He recited the lines softly, but with eloquent emphasis. "You see, +those of us who take the trouble to consider the working and +progress of events, know well enough that this glorious Creation +around us is not a caprice or a farce. It is designed for a Cause +and moves steadily towards that Cause. There may be--no doubt there +are--many men who elect to view life from a low, material, or even +farcical standpoint--nevertheless, life in itself is serious and +noble." + +Cicely's dark face lightened as with an illumination while she +listened to these words. Maryllia, who had taken up the roses she +had laid in Cicely's lap, and was now arranging them afresh, looked +up suddenly. + +"Yet there are many searching truths in the philosophy of Omar +Kayyam, Mr. Walden,"--she said--"Many sad facts that even our +religion can scarcely get over, don't you think so?" + +He met her eyes with a gentle kindliness in his own. + +"I think religion, if true and pure, turns all sad facts to +sweetness, Miss Vancourt,"--he said--"At least, so I have found it." + +The clear conviction of his tone was like the sound of a silver bell +calling to prayer. A silence followed, broken only by the singing of +a little bird aloft in the cedar-tree, whose ecstatic pipings aptly +expressed the unspoilt joys of innocence and trust. + +"One pretty verse of Omar I remember," then said Cicely, abruptly, +fixing her penetrating eyes on Walden,--"And it really isn't a bit +irreligious. It is this:-- + + 'The Bird of Life is singing on the bough, + His two eternal notes of "I and Thou"-- + O hearken well, for soon the song sings through, + And would we hear it, we must hear it Now!'" + +A white rose slipped from the cluster Maryllia held, and dropped on +the grass. John stooped for it, and gave it back to her. Their hands +just touched as she smiled her thanks. There was nothing in the +simple exchange of courtesies to move any self-possessed man from +his normal calm, yet a sudden hot thrill and leap of the heart dazed +Walden's brain for a moment and made him almost giddy. A sick fear-- +an indefinable horror of himself possessed him,--caught by this +mmameable transport of sudden and singular emotion, he felt he could +have rushed away, away!--anywhere out of reach and observation, and +have never entered the fair and halcyon gardens of Abbot's Manor +again. Why?--in Heaven's name, why? He could not tell,--but--he had +no right to be there!--no right to be there!--he kept on repeating +to himself;--he ought to have remained at home, shut up in his study +with his dog and his books,--alone, alone, always alone! The brief +tempest raged over his soul with soundless wind and fire,--then +passed, leaving no trace on his quiet features and composed manner. +But in that single instant an abyss had been opened in the depths of +his own consciousness,--an abyss into which he looked with amazement +and dread at the strange foolhardiness which had involuntarily led +him to its brink,--and he now drew back from it, nervously +shuddering. + +"'And would we hear it, we must hear it Now!'" repeated Adderley, +with opportune bathos at this juncture--"As I have said, and will +always maintain, Omar's verse always fits in with the happy approach +of creature comforts! Behold the illustration and example!--Primmins +with the tea!" + +"It is a pretty verse, though, isn't it?" queried Cicely, moving her +chair aside to make more space for the butler and footman as they +nimbly set out the afternoon tea-table in the deepest shade bestowed +by the drooping cedar boughs--"Isn't it?" + +And her searching eyes fastened themselves pertinaciously upon +John's face. + +"Very pretty!" he answered, steadily--"And--so far-as it goes--very +true!" + + + + +XVII + + +After tea, they re-entered the house at Maryllia's request to hear +Cicely play. Arrived in the drawing-room they found the only truly +modern thing in it, a grand piano, of that noted French make which +as far surpasses the German model as a genuine Stradivarius +surpasses a child's fiddle put together yesterday, and, taking her +seat at this instrument, Cicely had transformed both herself and it +into unspeakable enchantment. The thing of wood and wire and ivory +keys had become possessed, as it were, with the thunder of the +battling clouds and the great rush of the sea,--and then it had +suddenly whispered of the sweetness of love and life, till out of +storm had grown the tender calm of a flowing melody, on which +wordless dreams of happiness glittered like rainbow bubbles on foam, +shining for a moment and then vanishing at a breath; it had caught +the voices of the rain and wind,--and the pattering drops and +sibilant hurricane had whizzed sharply through the scale of sound +till the very notes seemed alive with the wrath of nature,--and then +it had rolled all the wild clamour away into a sustained +magnificence of prayerful chords which seemed to plead for all +things grand, all things true, all things beautiful,--and to list +the soul of man in panting, labouring ecstasy up to the very +threshold of Heaven! And she--the 'goblin' who evoked all this +phantasmagoria of life set in harmony--she too changed as it seemed, +in nature and aspect,--her small meagre face was as the face of a +pictured angel, with the dark hair clustering round it in thick +knots and curling waves as of blackest bronze,--while the eyes, full +of soft passion and fire, glowed beneath the broad temples with the +light of youth's imperial dream of fame. What human creature could +accept the limited fact of being mere man, mere woman only, while +Cicely played? Such music as hers recalled and revealed the earliest +splendour of the days when Poesy was newly born,--when gods and +goddesses were believed to walk the world in large and majestic +freedom,--and when brave deeds of chivalry and self-sacrifice became +exalted by the very plenitude of rich imagination, into supernatural +facts of heaven conquering, hell-charming prowess. Not then was man +made to seem uncouth, or mean and savage in his attempts to dominate +the planet, but strong, fearless, and endowed with dignity and +power. Not then was every noble sentiment derided,--every truth +scourged,--every trust betrayed,-every tenderness mocked,--and every +sweet emotion made the subject of a slander or a sneer. Not then was +love mere lust, marriage mere convenience, and life mere +covetousness of gain. There was something higher, greater, purer +than these,--something of the inspiring breath of God, which, +according to the old Biblical narrative, was breathed into humanity +with the words--"Let us make man in Our image, after Our likeness." +That 'image' of God was featured gloriously in the waves of music +which surged through Cicely's brain and fingers, out on the +responsive air,--and when she ceased playing there followed a dumb +spell of wonderment and awe, which those who had listened to her +marvellous improvisation were afraid to break by a word or movement. +And then, with a smile at their mute admiration and astonishment, +she had passed her small supple hands lightly again over the piano- +keys, evoking therefrom a playful prelude, and the pure silvery +sound of her voice had cloven the air asunder with De Musset's +'Adieu, Suzon!' + + "Adieu, Suzon, ma rose blonde, + Qui m'as aime pendant huit jours! + Les plus courts plaisirs de ce monde + Souvent font les meilleurs amours. + + Sais-je au moment ou je te quitte + Ou m'entraine mon astre errant? + Je m'en vais pourtant, ma petite, + Bien loin, bien vite, + Adieu, Suzon!" + +Was it possible for any man with a drop of warm blood flowing +through his veins, not to feel a quicker heart-beat, a swifter +pulse, at the entrancing, half-melancholy, half-mocking sweetness +she infused into these lines? + + "Je pars, et sur ma levre ardente + Brule encor ton dernier baiser. + Entre mes bras, chere imprudente + Ton beau front vient de reposer. + Sens-tu mon coeur, comme il palpite? + Le tien, comme il battait gaiment! + + Je m'en vais pourtant, ma petite, + Bien loin, bien vite + Tourjours t'aimant! + Adieu, Suzon!" + +With the passion, fire and exquisite abandon of her singing of this +verse in tones of such youthful freshness and fervour as could +scarcely be equalled and never surpassed, Adderley could no longer +restrain himself, and crying 'Brava!--brava! Bravissima!' fell to +clapping his hands in the wildest ecstasy. Walden, less +demonstrative, was far more moved. Something quite new and strange +to his long fixed habit and temperament had insidiously crept over +him,--and being well accustomed to self-analysis, he was conscious +of the fact, and uneasy at finding himself in the grip of an emotion +to which he could give no name. Therefore, he was glad when,--the +music being ended, and when he had expressed his more or less +incoherent praise and thanks to Cicely for the delight her wonderful +gift had afforded him,--he could plead some business in the village +as an excuse to take his departure. Maryllia very sweetly bade him +come again. + +"As often as you like,"--she said--"And I want you to promise me one +thing, Mr. Walden!--you must consent to meet some of my London +friends here one evening to dinner." + +She had given him her hand in parting, and he was holding it in his +own. + +"I'm afraid I should be very much in the way, Miss Vancourt,"--he +replied, with a grave smile--"I am not a social acquisition by any +means! I live very much alone,--and a solitary life, I think, suits +me best." + +She looked at him thoughtfully, and withdrew her hand. + +"That means that you do not care to come,"--she said, simply--"I am +so sorry you do not like me!" + +The blood rushed up to his brows. + +"Miss Vancourt!" he stammered--"Pray--pray do not think---" + +But here she turned aside to receive Adderley's farewells and thanks +for the charming afternoon he had spent in her company. After this, +and when Julian had made his exit, accompanied by Cicely who wanted +him to give her a written copy of certain verses he had composed, +Maryllia again spoke: + +"Well, at any rate, I shall send you an invitation to one of my +parties, whether you come or not, Mr. Walden;" she said, playfully-- +"Otherwise, I shall feel I have not done my social duty to the +minister of the parish! It will be for some evening during the +next three weeks. I hope you will be able to accept it. If not---" + +A sudden resolve inspired John's hesitating soul. Taking the hand +she offered, he raised it lightly to his lips with all the gallantry +of an old-world courtier rather than a modern-time parson. + +"If you wish me to accept it, it shall be accepted!"--he said, and +his voice shook a little--"Forgive me if in any way. I have seemed +to you discourteous, Miss Vancourt!--I am so much of a solitary, +that 'society' has rather an intimidating effect upon me,--but you +must never"--here he looked at her full and bravely--"You must never +say again or think that I do not like you! I DO like you!" + +Her eyes met his with pure and candid earnestness. + +"That is kind of you,"--she said--"And I am glad! Good-bye!" + +"Good-bye!" + +And so he left her presence. + +When he started to walk home across the fields, Adderley proffered +his companionship, which could not in civility be refused. They left +the Manor grounds together by the little wicket-gate, and took the +customary short-cut to the village. The lustrous afternoon light was +mellowing warmly into a deeper saffron glow,--a delicate suggestion +of approaching evening was in the breath of the cooling air, and +though the uprising orb of Earth had not yet darkened the first gold +cloud beneath the western glory of the sun, there was a gentle +murmur and movement among the trees and flowers and birds, which +indicated that the time for rest and sleep was drawing nigh. The +long grasses rustled mysteriously, and the smafl unseen herbs hidden +under them sent up a pungently sweet odour as the two men trod them +down on their leisurely way across the fields,--and it was with a +certain sense of relief from mental strain that Walden lifted his +hat and let the soft breeze fan his temples, which throbbed and +ached very strangely as though with a weight of pent-up tears. He +was very silent,--and Julian Adderley, generally accustomed to talk +for two, seemed disposed to an equal taciturnity. The few hours they +had spent in the society of Maryllia Vancourt and her weird +protegee, Cicely Bourne, had given both men subject for various +thoughts which neither of them were inclined to express to one +another. Walden, in particular, was aware of a certain irritation +and uneasiness of mind which troubled him greatly and he looked +askance at his companion with unchristian impatience. The long- +legged, red-haired poet was decidedly in his way at the present +moment,--he would rather have been alone. He determined in any case +not to ask him to enter the rectory garden,--more of his society +would be intolerable,--they would part at the gate,-- + +"I'm afraid I'm boring you, Mr. Walden,"--said the unconscious +object of his musings, just then--" I am dull! I feel myself under a +cloud. Pray excuse it!" + +The expression of his face was comically lachrymose, and John felt a +touch of compunction at the nature of his own immediate mental +attitude towards the harmless 'moon-calf.' + +"Don't apologise!" he said, with a frank smile--"I myself am not in +a companionable humour. I think Miss Bourne's music has not only put +something into us, but taken something out of us as well." + +"You are right!" said Julian--"You are perfectly right. And you +express the emotion aptly. It was extraordinary music! But that +voice! That voice will be a wonder of the world!" + +"It is a wonder already"--rejoined Walden--"If the girl keeps her +health and does not break down from nervous excitement and +overstrain, she will have a dazzling career. I think Miss Vancourt +will take every possible care of her." + +"Miss Vancourt is very lovely,"--said Adderley reflectively, "I have +made up my mind on that point at last. When I first saw her, I was +not convinced. Her features are imperfect. But they are mobile and +expressive--and in the expression there is a subtle beauty which is +quite provocative. Then again, my own 'ideals' of women have always +been tall and queenly,--yet in Miss Vanconrt we have a woman who is +queenly without being tall. It is the regal air without the material +inches. And I am now satisfied that the former is more fascinating +than the latter. Though I admit that it was once my dream to die +upon the breast of a tall woman!" + +Walden. laughed forcedly. He was vexed to be compelled to listen to +Adderley's criticism of Maryllia Vancourt's physical charms, yet he +was powerless to offer any remonstrance. + +"But, after all," continued Julian, gazing up into the pink and +mauve clouds of the kindling sunset,--"The tall woman might +possibly, from the very coldness of her height, be unsympathetic. +She might be unclaspable. Juno seems even more repellent than Venus +or Psyche. Then again, there are so many large women. They are +common. They obstruct the public highway. They tower forth in +theatre-stalls, and nod jewelled tiaras from the elevation of opera- +boxes, blocking out the view of the stage. They are more often +assertive than lovable. Therefore let me not cling to an illusion +which will not bear analysis. For Miss Vancourt is not a tall +woman,--nor for that matter is she short,--she is indescribable, and +therefore entirely bewitching!" + +John said nothing, but only walked on a trifle more quickly. + +"You are perhaps not an admirer of the fair sex, Walden?" pursued +his companion--"And therefore my observations awaken no sympathy in +your mind?" + +"I never discuss women,"--replied Walden, drily--"I am not a poet, +you see,--" and he smiled--"I am merely a middle-aged parson. You +can hardly expect me to share in your youthful enthusiasms, +Adderley! You are going up the hill of life,--I am travelling down. +We cannot see things from the same standpoint." Here, they left the +fields and came to the high road,--from thence a few more paces +brought them to the gate of the rectory. "But I quite agree with you +in your admiration of Miss Vancourt. She seems a most kindly and +charming lady--and--I believe--I am sure"--and his remarks become +somewhat rambling and disjointed--"yes--I am sure she will try to do +good in the village now that she has taken up her residence here. +That is, of course, if she stays. She may get tired of country life- +-that is quite probable--but--it is, of course, a good thing to have +a strong social influence in the neighbourhood--especially a woman's +influence--and I should say Miss Vancourt will make herself useful +and beloved in the parish---" + +At this period he caught Adderley's eyes fixed upon him somewhat +quizzically, and realised that he was getting quite 'parochial' in +his talk. He checked himself abruptly and swung open his garden +gate. + +"I'm sorry I can't ask you in just now,"--he said--"I have some +pressing work to do---" + +"Don't mention it!" and Julian clasped him by the hand fervently--"I +would not intrude upon you for worlds! You must be alone, of course. +You are delightful!--yes, my dear Walden, you are delicious! So new- +-so fresh! It is a privilege to know you! Good-bye for the moment! I +may come and talk to you another time!" + +"Oh, certainly! By all means!" And Walden, shaking hands with all +the vigour Adderley's grasp enforced upon him, escaped at last into +the sanctuary of his own garden, and hastened under the covering +shadow of the trees that bordered the lawn. Adderley watched him +disappear, and then went on his own way with a gratified air of +perfect complacency. + +"Those who 'never discuss women' are apt to be most impressed by +them,"--he sagaciously reflected--"The writhings of a beetle on a +pin are not so complex or interesting as the writhings of a parson's +stabbed senses! Now a remarkable psychological study might be made-- +My good friend! Kindly look where you are going!" + +This last remark was addressed to a half-drunken man who pushed past +him roughly without apology, almost jostling him off the foot-path. +It was Oliver Leach, who hearing himself spoken to, glanced round +sullenly with a muttered oath, and stumbled on. + +"That is Miss Vancourt's dismissed agent,"--said Adderley, pausing a +moment to watch his uncertain progress up the road. "What an +objectionable beast!" + +He walked on, and, his former train of thought being entirely +disturbed, he went to the 'Mother Huff,' where he was a frequent +visitor, his elaborate courtesies to Mrs. Buggins enabling him to +hear from that lady's pious lips all the latest news, scandal and +gossip, true or untrue, concerning the whole neighbourhood. + +Walden, meanwhile, finding himself once more alone in his own +domain, breathed freely. The faithful Nebbie, who had passed all the +hours of his master's absence, 'on guard' by the window of the +vacant study, came running to meet him as he set foot upon the +lawn,--three or four doves that were brooding on the old tiled and +gabled roof of the rectory, rose aloft in a short flight and +descended again, cooing softly as though with satisfaction at his +return,--and there was a soothing silence everywhere, the work of +the day being done, and Bainton having left the garden trim and fair +to its own sweet solitude and calm. Gently patting his dog's rough +head, as the animal sprang up to him with joyous short barks of +welcome, John looked about him quietly for a moment or two with an +expression in his eyes that was somewhat dreamy and pathetic. + +"I have known the old place so long and loved every corner of it!"-- +he murmured--"And yet,--to-day it seems all strange and unfamiliar!" + +The glow of the sunset struck a red flare against the walls of his +house, and beat out twinkling diamond flashes from the latticed +windows,--the clambering masses of honeysuckle and roses shone forth +in vivid clusters as though inwardly illuminated. The warmth and +ecstasy of life seemed palpitating in every flush of colour, every +shaft of light,--and the wild, voluptuous singing of unseen +skylarks, descending to their nests, and shaking out their songs, as +it seemed, like bubbles of music breaking asunder in the clear +empyrean, expressed the rapture of heaven wedded to the sensuous, +living, breathing joys of earth. The glamour and radiance of the air +affected Walden with a sudden unwonted sense of fatigue and pain, +and pressing one hand across his eyes, he shut out the dazzle of +blue sky and green grass for a moment's respite,--then went slowly, +and with bent head into his study. Here everything was very quiet,-- +and, as it struck him then, curiously lonely,--on his desk lay +various notes and messages and accounts--the usual sort of paper +litter that accumulated under his hands every day,--two or three +visiting cards had been left for him during his absence,--one on the +part of the local doctor, a very clever and excellent fellow named +James Forsyth, who was familiarly called 'Jimmy' by the villagers, +and who often joined Walden of an evening to play a game of chess +with him,--and another bearing the neat superscription 'Mrs. +Mandeville Poreham. The Leas. At Home Thursdays,'--whereat he +smiled. Mrs. Mandeville Poreham was a 'county' lady, wife of a +gentleman-at-ease who did nothing but hunt, and who never had done +anything in all his life but hunt,--she was also the mother of five +marriageable daughters, and her calls on the Reverend John were +marked by a polite and patient persistency that seemed altogether +admirable. She lived some two miles out of St. Rest, but always +attended Walden's church regularly, driving thither with her family +in a solemnly closed private omnibus of the true 'county' type. She +professed great interest in all Church matters, on the ground that +she was herself the daughter of a dead-and-gone clergyman. + +"My poor father!" she was wont to say, smoothing her sleek bandeaux +of grey hair on either side of her forehead with one long, pale, +thin finger--"He was such a good man! Ah yes!--and he had such a +lovely mind! My mother was a Beedle." + +This last announcement, generally thrown in casually, was apt to be +startling to the uninitiated,--and it was not till the genealogy of +the Beedle family had been duly explained to the anxious enquirer, +that it was seen how important and allsufficing it was to have had a +Beedle for one's maternal parent. The Beedles were a noted 'old +stock' in Suffolk, so it appeared,--and to be connected with a +Suffolk Beedle was, to certain provincial minds of limited +perception, a complete guarantee of superior birth and breeding. +Walden was well accustomed to receiving a call from Mrs. Poreham +about every ten days or so, and he did his utmost best to dodge her +at all points. Bainton was his ready accomplice in this harmless +conspiracy, and promptly gave him due warning whenever the Poreham +''bus' or landau was seen weightily bearing down upon the village, +with the result that, on the arrival of the descendant of the +Beedles at the rectory door she was met by Hester Rockett, the +parlourmaid, with a demure smile and the statement,--'Mr. Walden is +out, mim.' Then, when Walden, according to the laws of etiquette, +had to return the lady's visit, Bainton again assisted him by +watching and waiting till he could inform him, ''as 'ow he'd seen +that blessed old Poreham woman drivin' out with 'er fam'ly to +Riversford. They won't likely be back for a couple of hours at +least.' Whereupon Walden straightway took a swinging walk up to 'The +Leas,' deposited his card with the footman, for the absent 'fam'ly' +and returned again in peace to his own dwelling. + +This afternoon he had again, as usual, missed the worthy lady, and +he set aside her card, the smile with which he had glanced at it +changing suddenly to a sigh of somewhat wearied impatience. Surely +there was something unusually dark and solitary in the aspect of the +room to which, for so many years, he had been accustomed, and where +he had generally found comfort and contentment? The vivid hues of +the sunset were declining rapidly, and the solemn shadow of evening +was creeping up apace over the sky and outer landscape--but +something heavier than the mild obscurity of approaching night +seemed weighing on the air around him, which oppressed his nerves +and saddened his soul. He stood absently turning over the papers on +his desk, in a frame of mind which left him uncertain how to employ +himself,--whether to read,--to write,--to finish a sketch of the +flowering reeds on the river which he had yesterday begun,--or to +combat with his own mood, fathom its meaning, and conquer its +tendency? There came a light tap at his door and the maid Hester +entered with a letter. + +"The last post, sir. Only one for you." + +He took it up indifferently as the girl retired,--then uttered a +slight exclamation of pleasure. + +"From Brent,"--he said, half aloud--"Dear old fellow! I have not +heard from him since New Year." + +He opened the letter, and began to read. The interested look in his +eyes deepened,--and he moved nearer to the open window to avail +himself as much as possible of the swiftly decreasing light. + +"DEAR WALDEN,"--it ran--"The spirit moves me to write to you, not +only because it occurs to me that I have failed to do so for a long +time, but also because I feel a certain necessity for thought- +expansion to someone, who, like yourself, is accustomed to the habit +of thinking. The tendency of the majority nowadays is,--or so it +appears to me,--to forget the purpose for which the brain was +designed, or rather to use it for no higher object than that for +which it is employed by the brute creation, namely to consider the +ways and means of securing food, and then to ruminate on the self- +gratification which follows the lusts of appetite. In fact, 'to rot +and rot,--and thereby hangs a tale!' But before I enter into any +particulars of my own special phase or mood, let me ask how it fares +with you in your small and secluded parish? All must be well, I +imagine, otherwise doubtless I should have heard. It seems only the +other day that I came, at your request, to consecrate your beautiful +little church of 'The Saint's Rest,'--yet seven years have rolled +away since then, leaving indelible tracks of age on me, as probably +on you also, my dear fellow!--though you have always carried old +Time on your back more lightly and easily than I. To me he has ever +been the Arabian Nights' inexorable 'Old Man of the Sea,' whose +habit is to kill unless killed. At fifty-one I feel myself either +'rusting' or mellowing; I wonder which you will judge the most +fitting appellation for me when we next meet? Mind and memory play +me strange tricks in my brief moments of solitude, and whenever I +think of you, I imagine it can only be yesterday that we two college +lads walked and talked together in the drowsy old streets of Oxford +and made our various plans for our future lives with all the superb +dominance and assertiveness of youth, which is so delightful while +it lasts, despite the miserable deceptions it practises upon us. One +thing, however, which I gained in the past time, and which has never +deceived me, is your friendship,--and how much I owe to you no one +but myself can ever tell. Good God!--how superior you always were, +and are, to me! Why did you efface yourself so completely for my +sake? I often ask this question, and except for the fact that it +would be impossible to you to even make an attempt to override, for +mere ambition, anyone for whom you had a deep affection, I cannot +imagine any answer. But as matters have turned out with me I think +it might have been better after all, had you been in my place and I +in yours! A small 'cure of souls' would have put my mental fibre to +less torture, than the crowding cares of my diocese, which depress +me more and more as they increase. Many things seem to me hopeless,- +-utterly irremediable! The shadow of a pre-ponderating, defiant, +all-triumphant Evil stalks abroad everywhere--and the clergy are as +much affected by it as the laymen. I feel that the world is far more +Christ-less to-day after two thousand years of preaching and +teaching, than it was in the time of Nero. How has this happened? +Whose the fault? Walden, there is only one reply--it is the Church +itself that has failed! The message of salvation,--the gospel of +love,--these are as God-born and true as ever they were,--but the +preachers and teachers of the Divine Creed are to blame,--the men +who quarrel among themselves over forms and ceremonies instead of +concentrating their energies on ministering to others,--and I +confess I find myself often at a loss to dispose Church affairs in +such wise as to secure at one and the same time, peace and +satisfaction amongst the clergy under me, with proper devotion to +the mental and physical needs of the thousands who have a right, yes +a right to expect spiritual comfort and material succour from those +who profess, by their vows of ordination, to be faithful and +disinterested servants of Christ. + +"I daresay you remember how we used to talk religious matters over +when we were young and enthusiastic men, studying for the Church. +You will easily recall the indignation and fervour with which we +repudiated all heresies new and old, and turned our backs with +mingled pity and scorn on every writer of agnostic theories, +estimating such heterodox influences as weighing but lightly in the +balance of belief, and making little or no effect on the minds of +the majority. We did not then grasp in its full measure the meaning +of what is to-day called the 'rush' of life. That blind, brutal +stampede of humanity over every corner and quarter of the earth,--a +stampede which it is impossible to check or to divert, and which +arises out of a nameless sense of panic, and foreboding of disaster! +Like hordes of wild cattle on the prairies, who scent invisible +fire, and begin to gallop furiously headlong anywhere and +everywhere, before the first red gleam of the devouring element +breaks from the undergrowth of dry grass and stubble,--so do the +nations and peoples appear to me to-day. Reckless, maddened, fear- +stricken and reasonless, they rush hither and thither in search of +refuge from themselves and from each other, yet are all the while +driven along unconsciously in heterogeneous masses, as though swept +by the resistless breath of some mysterious whirlwind, impelling +them on to their own disaster. I feel the end approaching, Walden!-- +sometimes I almost see it! And with the near touch of a shuddering +future catastrophe on me, I am often disposed to agree with sad King +Solomon that after all 'there is nothing better for a man than that +he should eat, drink and be merry all the days of his life.' For I +grow tired of my own puny efforts to lift the burden of human sorrow +which is laid upon me, aloft on the fainting wings of prayer, to a +God who seems wholly irresponsive,--mind, Walden, I say seems--so do +not start away from my words and judge me as beginning to weaken in +the faith that formerly inspired me. I confess to an intense fatigue +and hopelessness,--the constant unrelieved consciousness of human +wretchedness weighs me down to the dust of spiritual abasement, for +I can but think that if God were indeed merciful and full of loving- +kindness, He would not, He could not endure the constant spectacle +of man's devilish injustice to his brother man! I have no right to +permit myself to indulge in such reflections as these, I know,--yet +they have gained such hold on me that I have latterly had serious +thoughts of resigning my bishopric. But this is a matter involving +other changes in my life, on which I should like to have some long +friendly talks with you, before taking any decisive step. Your own +attitude of mind towards the 'calling and election' you have chosen +has always seemed to me so pre-eminently pure and lofty, that I +should condemn ray own feelings even more than I do, were I to allow +the twin forces of pessimism and despair to possess me utterly +without an attempt to bring them under your sane and healthful +exorcism, the more so, as you know all my personal history and life- +long sorrow. And this brings me to the main point of my letter which +is, that I should much like to see you, if you can spare me two or +three days of your company any time before the end of August. Try to +arrange an early visit, though I know how ill your parishioners can +spare you, and how more than likely they are to grumble at your +absence. You are to be envied in having secured so much affection +and confidence in the parish you control, and every day I feel more +and more how wisely you have chosen your lot in that comparative +obscurity, which, at one time, seemed to those who know your +brilliant gifts, a waste of life and opportunity. Of course you are +not without jealous enemies,--no true soul ever is. Sir Morton +Pippitt still occasionally sends me a spluttering note of +information as to something you have, or have not done, to the +church on which you have spent the greater part of your personal +fortune; and Leveson, the minister at Badsworth, appears to think +that I should assist him by heading a subscription list to obtain +funds for the purpose of making his church as perfect a gem of +architecture as yours. Due enquiries have been made as to the nature +and needs of his parishioners, and it appears that only twenty--five +adult persons on an average ever attend his ministrations, and that +the building for which he pleads is a brick edifice built in 1870 +and deliberately allowed to decay by disuse and neglect. However, +Sir Morton Pippitt is taking some interest in it, so I am given to +understand,--and perhaps in 'restoring' a modern chapel, he will be +able to console himself for the ruthless manner in which you +stripped off his 'galvanised tin' roof from your old Norman church +walls! + +"I am sorry to hear that the historic house of Abbot's Manor is +again inhabited, and by one who is likely to be a most undesirable +neighbour to you." + +Here Walden, unable to read very quickly at the window, stepped out +on the lawn, still holding the letter close to his eyes. "A most +undesirable neighbour"--he-murmured-"Yes--now let me see!--where is +that phrase?--Oh, here it is,--'a most undesirable neighbour.'" And +he read on:-"I allude to Miss Vancourt, the only child of the late +Robert Vancourt who was killed some years ago in the hunting field. +The girl was taken away at her father's death by her uncle +Frederick, who, having sown an unusual crop of wild oats, had +married one of those inordinately wealthy American women to whom the +sun itself appears little more than a magnified gold-piece--and of +course between the two she has had a very bad training. Frederick +Vancourt was the worst and weakest of the family, and his wife has +been known for years as a particularly hardened member of the +'smart' set. Under their tutelage Miss Vancourt, or 'Maryllia Van,' +as she appears to be familiarly known and called in society, has +attained a rather unenviable notoriety; and when I heard the other +day that she had left her aunt's house in a fit of ungovernable +temper, and had gone to her own old house to live, I thought at once +of you with a pang of pity. For, if I remember rightly, you have a +great opinion of the Manor as an unspoilt relic of Tudor times, and +have always been rather glad that it was left to itself without any +modern improvement or innovation. I can imagine nothing worse to +your mind than the presence of a 'smart' lady in the unsophisticated +village of St. Rest! However, you may take heart of grace, as it is +not likely she will stay there long. Rumour asserts that she is +shortly to be married to Lord Roxmouth,--he who will be Duke of +Ormistoune and owner of that splendid but half-ruined pile, Roxmouth +Castle. She has, it appears, kept this poor gentleman dancing +attendance on her for a sufficient time to make evident to the world +her desire to secure his title, and her present sudden capricious +retirement into country life is understood to be a mere RUSE to draw +him more swiftly on to his matrimonial doom. No doubt he has an eye +on Mrs. Fred Vancourt's millions, which her niece would inherit in +the event of her marrying a future English duke,--still, from what I +gather, he would deserve some compensation for risking his life's +happiness with such a very doubtful partner. But I daresay I am +retailing information with which you are no doubt already quite +familiar, and in all probability 'Maryllia Van' is not likely to +cross your path at any time, as among her other reported +characteristics is that of a cheap scorn for religion,--a scorn +which sits so unbecomingly on our modern women, and forbodes so much +disaster in the future, they being the mothers of the coming race. I +expect the only circumstance likely to trouble your calm and +pleasant routine of life and labour is, that the present occupation +of Abbot's Manor may have stopped some of your romantic rambles in +the beautiful woods surrounding it! May never any greater care +disturb you, my dear fellow!--for even that is one, which, as I have +pointed out to you, will be of brief duration. Let me know when you +think you will be able to come and spend a couple of days here,--and +I will clear my work ahead in order to leave the time free for an +entire unburdening of my soul to you, as in the days of our youth, +so long ago.--Sincerely and affectionately yours, H.A. BRENT." + +Slowly, and with methodical nicety, Walden folded up the letter and +put it in his pocket. With a kind of dazed air he looked about him, +vaguely surprised that the evening seemed to have fallen so soon. +Streaks of the sunset still glowed redly here and there in the sky, +but the dense purple of the night had widened steadily over the +spaces of the air, and just above the highest bough of the apple- +tree on the lawn, the planet Venus twinkled bravely in all its +silver panoply of pride as the Evening Star. Low and sweet on the +fragrant silence came the dulcet piping of a nightingale, and the +soft swishing sound of the river flowing among the rushes, and +pushing against the pebbly shore. A sudden smarting sense of pain +stung Walden's eyes,--pressing them with one hand he found it wet,-- +with tears? No, no!--not with tears,--merely with the moisture of +strain and fatigue,--his sight was not so good as it used to be;--of +course he was getting old,--and Bishop Brent's small caligraphy had +been difficult to decipher by the half-light. All at once something +burning and passionate stirred in him,--a wave of chivalrous +indignation that poured itself swiftly through every channel of his +clean and honest blood, and he involuntarily clenched his hand. + +"What liars there are in the world!" he said aloud and fiercely-- +"What liars!" + +Venus, peeping at him over the apple-boughs, gave out a diamond-like +sparkle as though she were no greater thing than a loving eye,--the +unseen nightingale, tuning its voice to richer certainties, broke +into a fuller, deeper warble,--more stars flew, like shining fire- +flies, into space, and on the lowest line of the western horizon a +white cloud fringed with silver, floated slowly, the noiseless +herald of the coming moon. But Walden saw nothing of the mystically +beautiful transfiguration of the evening into night. His thoughts +were elsewhere. + +"And yet"--he mused sorrowfully--"How do I know? How can I tell? The +clear childlike eyes may be trained to deceive,--the smile of the +sweet, all too sweet mouth, may be insincere--the pretty, impulsive +confiding manner may be a mere trick---and---after all---what is it +to me? I demand of myself plainly and fairly--what is it to me?" + +He gave a kind of unconscious despairing gesture. Was there some +devil in his soul whom he was bound to wrestle with by fasting and +prayer, and conquer in the end? Or was it an angel that had entered +there, before whose heavenly aspect he must kneel and succumb? Why +this new and appalling loneliness which had struck himself and his +home-surroundings as with an earthquake shock, shaking the +foundations of all that had seemed so safe and secure? Why this +feverish restlessness in his mind, which forbade him to occupy +himself with any of the work waiting for him to do, and which made +him unhappy and ill at ease for no visible or reasonable cause? + +He walked slowly across the lawn to his favourite seat under the +apple-tree,--and there, beneath the scented fruiting boughs, with +the evening dews gathering on the grass at his feet, he tried +manfully to face the problem that troubled his own inner +consciousness. + +"Let me brave it out!" he said--"Let me realise and master the +thoughts that seek to master ME, otherwise I am no man, but merely a +straw to be caught by the idle wind of an emotion. Why should I +shirk the analysis of what I feel to be true of myself? For, after +all, it is only a weakness of nature,--a sense of regret and loss,-- +a knowledge of something I have missed in life,--all surely +pardonable if quelled in the beginning. She,--Maryllia Vancourt--is +only at woman,--I am only a man. There is more than at first seems +apparent in that simple qualification 'only'! She, the woman, has +charm, and is instinctively conscious of her power, as why should +she not be?--she has tried it, and found it no doubt in every case +effectual. I, the man, am long past the fervours and frenzies of +life,--and charm, whether it be hers or that of any other of her +sex, should have, or ought to have, no effect upon me, particularly +in my vocation, and with my settled habits. If I am so easily moved +as to be conscious of a certain strange glamour and fascination in +this girl,--for she is a girl to me, nay almost a child,--that is +not her fault, but mine. As well expect the sun not to shine or a +bird not to sing, as expect Maryllia Vancourt not to smile and look +sweet! Walking with her in her rose-garden, where she took me with +such a pretty air of confiding grace, to show me her border of old +French damask roses, I listened to her half-serious, sometimes +playful talk as in a dream, and answered her kindly questions +concerning some of the sick and poor in the village as best I could, +though I fear I must occasionally have spoken at random. Oh, those +old French damask roses! I have known them growing in that border +for years,--yet I never saw them as I saw them to-day,--never looked +they so darkly red and glowing!--so large and open-hearted! I fancy +I shall smell their fragrance all my life! 'Are they doing well, do +you think?'--she said, and the little white chin perked up from +under the pink ribbon which tied her hat, and the dark blue eyes +gleamed drowsily from beneath their drooping lids,--and the lips +parted, smiling--and then--then came the devil and tempted me! I was +no longer middle-aged John Walden, the quiet parson of a country +'cure,'--I was a man unknown to myself,--possessed as it were, by +the ghost of a dead youth, clamouring for youthful joy! I longed to +touch that delicate little pink-and-white creature, so like a rose +herself!--I was moved by an insane desire--yes!--it was insane, and +fortunately quite momentary,--such impulses are not uncommon"--and +here, as he unravelled, to his own satisfaction, the tangled web of +his impressions, his brow cleared, and he smiled gravely,--"I was, I +say, moved by an insane desire to draw that dainty small bundle of +frippery and prettiness into my arms--yes,--it was so, and why +should I not confess it to myself? Why should I be ashamed? Other +men have felt the same, though perhaps they do not count so many +years of life as I do. At any rate with me the feeling was +momentary,--and passed. Then,--some moments later,--under the cedar- +tree she dropped a rose from the cluster she had gathered,--and in +giving it back to her I touched her hand--and our eyes met." + +Here his thoughts became disconnected, and wandered beyond his +control. He let them go,--and listened, instead of thinking, to the +notes of the nightingale singing in his garden. It was now being +answered by others at a distance, with incessant repetitions of a +flute-like warble,--and then came the long sobbing trill and cry of +love, piercing the night with insistant passion. + + "The Bird of Life is singing on the bough, + His two eternal notes of 'I and Thou'-- + O hearken well, for soon the song sings through, + And would we hear it, we must hear it Now." + +A faint tremor shook him as the lines quoted by Cicely Bourne rang +back upon his memory. He rose to go indoors. + +"I am a fool!"--he said--"I must not trouble my head any more about +a summer day's fancy. It was a kind of 'old moonlight in the blood,' +as Hafiz says,--an aching sense of loss,--or rather a touch of the +spring affecting a decaying tree!" He sighed. "I shall not suffer +from it again, because I will not. Brent's letter has arrived +opportunely,--though I think--nay, I am sure, he has been +misinformed. However, Miss Vancourt's affairs have nothing to do +with me,--nor need I interest myself in what is not my concern. My +business is with those who depend on my care,--I must not forget +myself--I must attend to my work." + +He went into the house,--and there was confronted in his own hall by +a big burly figure clad in rough corduroys,--that of Farmer Thorpe, +who doffed his cap and pulled his forelock respectfully at the sight +of him. + +"'Evenin', Passon!" he said--"I thought as 'ow I'd make bold to coom +an' tell ye my red cow's took the turn an' doin' wonderful! Seems a +special mussy of th' A'mighty, an' if there's anythin' me an' my +darter can do fur ye, ye'll let us know, Passon, for I'm darn +grateful, an' feels as 'ow the beast pulled round arter I'd spoke +t'ye about 'er. An' though as ye told me, 'tain't the thing to say +no prayers for beasties which is worldly goods, I makes a venture to +arsk ye if ye'll step round to the farm to-morrer, jest to please +Mattie my darter, an' take a look at the finest litter o' pigs as +ever was seen in this county, barrin' none! A litter as clean an' +sweet as daisies in new-mown hay, an' now's the time for ye to look +at 'em, Passon, an' choose yer own suckin' beast for bilin' or +roastin' which ye please, for both's as good as t'other,--an' there +ain't no man about 'ere what desarves a sweet suckin' pig more'n you +do, an' that I say an' swear to. It's a real prize litter I do +assure you!--an' Mattie my darter, she be that proud, an' all ye +wants to do is just to coom along an' choose your own!" + +"Thank you, Mr. Thorpe!" said Walden with his usual patient +courtesy--"Thank you very much! I will certainly come. Glad to hear +the cow is better. And is Miss Thorpe well?" + +"She's that foine,"--rejoined the farmer--"that only the pigs can +beat 'er! I'll be tellin' 'er you'll coom to-morrer then?" + +"Oh yes--by all means! Certainly! Most kind of you, I'm sure! Good- +evening, Thorpe!" + +"Same t'ye, Passon, an' thank ye kindly!" Whereat John escaped at +last into his own solitary sanctum. + +"My work!" he said, with a faint smile, as he seated himself at his +desk--"I must do my work! I must attend to the pigs as much as +anything else in the parish! My work!" + + + + +XVIII + + +It was the first Sunday in July. Under a sky of pure and cloudless +blue the village of St. Rest lay cradled in floral and foliage +loveliness, with all the glory of the morning sunshine and the full +summer bathing it in floods of living gold. It had reached the +perfect height of its annual beauty with the full flowering of its +orchards and fields, and with all the wealth of colour which was +flung like spray against the dark brown thatched roofs of its +clustering cottages by the masses of roses, red and white, that +clambered as high as the tops of the chimneys, and turning back from +thence, dropped downwards again in a tangle of blossoms, and twined +over latticed windows with a gay and gracious air like garlands hung +up for some great festival. The stillness of the Seventh Day's pause +was in the air,--even the swallows, darting in and out from their +prettily contrived nests under the bulging old-fashioned eaves, +seemed less busy, less active on their bright pinions, and skimmed +to and fro with a gliding ease, suggestive of happy indolence and +peace. The doors of the church were set wide open,--and Adam Frost, +sexton and verger, was busy inside the building, placing the chairs, +as was his usual Sunday custom, in orderly rows for the coming +congregation. It was about half-past ten, and the bell-ringers, +arriving and ascending into the belfry, were beginning to 'tone' the +bells before pealing the full chime for the eleven o'clock service, +when Bainton, arrayed in his Sunday best, strolled with a casual air +into the churchyard, looked round approvingly for a minute or two, +and then with some apparent hesitation, entered the church porch, +lifting his cap reverently as he did so. Once there, he coughed +softly to attract Frost's attention, but that individual was too +much engrossed with his work to heed any lesser sound than the +grating of the chairs he was arranging. Bainton waited patiently, +standing near the carved oaken portal, till by chance the verger +turned and saw him, whereupon he beckoned mysteriously with a +crook'd forefinger. + +"Adam! Hi! A word wi' ye!" + +Adam came down the nave somewhat reluctantly, his countenance +showing signs of evident preoccupation and harassment. + +"What now?" he demanded, in a hoarse whisper-'"Can't ye see I'm +busy?" + +"O' coorse you're busy--I knows you're busy,"--returned Bainton, +soothingly--"I ain't goin' to keep ye back nohow. All I wants to +know is, ef it's true?" + +"Ef what's true?" + +"This 'ere, wot the folks are all a' clicketin' about,--that Miss +Vancourt 'as got a party o' Lunnon fash'nables stayin' at the Manor, +an' that they're comin' to church this marnin'?" + +"True enough!" said Frost--"Don't ye see me a-settin' chairs for 'em +near the poopit? There'll be what's called a 'crush' I can tell ye!- +-for there ain't none too much room in the church at the best o' +times for our own poor folk, but when rich folks comes as well, +we'll be put to it to seat 'em. Mister Primmins, he comes down to me +nigh 'arf an hour ago, an' he sez, sez he: 'Miss Vancourt 'as +friends from Lunnon stayin' with 'er, an' they're comin' to church +this marnin'. 'Ope you'll find room?' An' I sez to 'im, 'I'll do my +best, but there ain't no reserve seats in the 'ouse o' God, an' them +as comes fust gits fust served.' Ay, it's true enough they're a- +comin', but 'ow it got round in the village, I don't know. I ain't +sed a wurrd." + +"Ill news travels fast,"--said Bainton, sententiously, "Mister +Primmins no doubt called on his young 'ooman at the 'Mother Huff' +an' told 'er to put on 'er best 'at. She's a reg'ler telephone tube +for information--any bit o' news runs right through 'er as though +she was a wire. 'Ave ye told Passon Waldon as 'ow Miss Vancourt an' +visitors is a-comin' to 'ear 'im preach?" + +"No,"--replied Adam, with some vigour--"I ain't told 'im nothin'. +An' I ain't goin' to neither!" + +Bainton looked into the crown of his cap, and finding his +handkerchief there wiped the top of his head with it. + +"It be powerful warm this marnin', Adam,"--he said--"Powerful warm +it be. So you ain't goin' to tell Passon nothin',--an' for why, may +I ask, if to be so bold." + +"Look 'ere, Tummas,"--rejoined the verger, speaking slowly and +emphatically--"Passon, 'e be a rare good man, m'appen no better man +anywheres, an' what he's goin' to say to us this blessed Sunday is +all settled-like. He's been thinkin' it out all the week. He knows +what's what. 'Tain't for us,--'tain't for you nor me, to go puttin' +'im out an' tellin' 'im o' the world the flesh an' the devil all a- +comin' to church. Mebbe he'a been a-prayin' to the Lord A'mighty to +put the 'Oly Spirit into 'im, an' mebbe he's got it--just THERE." +And Adam touched his breast significantly. "Now if I goes, or you +goes and sez to 'im: 'Passon, there's fash'nable folks from Lunnon +comin' 'ere to look at ye an' listen to ye, an' for all we kin tell +make mock o' ye as well as o' the Gospel itself in their 'arts'-- +d'ye think he'd be any the better for it? No, Tummas, no! I say +leave Passon alone. Don't upset 'im. Let 'im come out of 'is 'ouse +wise an' peaceful like as he allus do, an' let 'im speak as the +fiery tongues from Heaven moves 'im, an' as if there worn't no +fashion nor silly nonsense in the world. He's best so, Tummas!--you +b'lieve me,--he's best so!" + +"Mebbe--mebbe!" and Bainton twirled his cap round and round +dubiously--"But Miss Vancourt---" + +"Miss Vancourt ain't been to church once till now,"--said Adam,-- +"An' she's only comin' now to show it to her friends. I doesn't want +to think 'ard of her, for she's a sweet-looking little lady an' a +kind one--an' my Ipsie just worships 'er,--an' what my baby likes +I'm bound to like too--but I do 'ope she ain't a 'eathen, an' that +once comin' to church means comin' again, an' reg'lar ever +arterwards. Anyway, it's for you an' me, Tummas, to leave Passon to +the Lord an' the fiery tongues,--we ain't no call to interfere with +'im by tellin' 'im who's comin' to church an' who ain't. Anyone's +free to enter the 'ouse o' God, rich or poor, an 'tain't a world's +wonder if strangers worships at the Saint's Rest as well as our own +folk." + +Here the bells began to ring in perfect unison, with regular rhythm +and sweet concord. + +"I must go,"--continued Adam--"I ain't done fixin' the chairs yet, +an' it's a quarter to eleven. We'll be 'avin 'em all 'ere d'rectly." + +He hurried into the church again just as Miss Eden and her boy-and- +girl 'choir' entered the churchyard, and Bainton seeing them, and +also perceiving in the near distance the slow halting figure of +Josey Letherbarrow, who made it a point never to be a minute late +for divine service, rightly concluded that there was no time now, +even if he were disposed to such a course, to 'warn Passon' that he +would have to preach to 'fashionable folks' that morning. + +"Mebbe Adam's right," he reflected--"An' yet it do worry me a bit to +think of 'im comin' out of 'is garden innercent like an' not knowin' +what's a-waitin' for 'im. For he's been rare quiet lately--seems as +if he was studyin' an' prayin' from mornin' to night, an' he ain't +bin nowhere,--an' no one's bin to see 'im, 'cept that scarecrow- +lookin' chap, Adderley, which HE stayed a 'ole arternoon, jabberin' +an' readin' to 'im. An' what's mighty queer to me is that he ain't +bin fidgettin' over 'is garden like he used to. He don't seem to +care no more whether the flowers blooms or doesn't. Them phloxes up +against the west wall now--a finer show I never seen--an' as for the +lilum candidum, they're a perfect picter. But he don't notice 'em +much, an' he's not so keen on his water-lilies as I thought he would +be, for they're promisin' better this year than they've ever done +before, an' the buds all a-floatin' up on top o' the river just +lovely. An' as for vegetables--Lord!--he don't seem to know whether +'tis beans or peas he 'as--there's a kind o' sap gone out o' the +garden this summer, for all that it's so fine an' flourishin'. +There's a missin' o' somethin' somewheres!" + +His meditations were put to an end by the continuous arrival of all +the villagers coming to church;--by twos and threes, and then by +half dozens and dozens, they filed in through the churchyard, +exchanging brief neighbourly greetings with one another as they +passed quietly into the sacred edifice, where the soft strains of +the organ now began to mingle with the outside chiming of the bells. +Bainton still lingered near the porch, moved by a pardonable +curiosity. He was anxious to see the first glimpse of the people who +were staying at the Manor, but as yet there was no sign of any one +of them, though the time wanted only five minutes to eleven. + +The familiar click of the latch of the gate which divided the church +precincts from the rectory garden, made him turn his head in that +direction, to watch his master approaching the scene of his +morning's ministrations. The Reverend John walked slowly, with +uplifted head and tranquil demeanour, and, as he turned aside up the +narrow path which led to the vestry at the back of the church the +faithful 'Tummas' felt a sudden pang. 'Passon' looked too good for +this world, he thought,--his dignity of movement, his serene and +steadfast eyes, his fine, thoughtful, though somewhat pale +countenance, were all expressive of that repose and integrity of +soul which lifts a man above the common level, and unconsciously to +himself, wins for him the silent honour and respect of all his +fellows. And yet there was a touch of pathetic isolation about him, +too,--as of one who is with, yet not of, the ordinary joys, hopes, +and loves of humanity,--and it was this which instinctively moved +Bainton, though that simple rustic would have been at a loss to +express the sense of what he felt in words. However there was no +more leisure for thinking, if he wished to be in his place at the +commencement of service. The servants from Abbot's Manor were just +entering the churchyard-gates, marshalled, as usual, by the +housekeeper, Mrs. Spruce, and her deaf but ever dutiful husband,-- +and though Bainton longed to ask one of them if Miss Vancourt and +her guests were really coming, he hesitated,--and in that moment of +hesitation, the whole domestic retinue passed into church before +him, and he judged it best and wisest to follow quickly in silence, +lest, when prayers began, his master should note his absence. + +The building was very full,--and it was difficult to see where, if +any strangers did arrive, they could be accommodated. Miss Eden, in +her capacity as organist, was still playing the opening voluntary, +but, despite the fact that there was no apparent disturbance of the +usual order of things, there was a certain air of hushed expectancy +among the people which was decidedly foreign to the normal +atmosphere of St. Rest. The village lasses looked at each other's +hats with keener interest,--the lads fidgeted with their ties and +collars more strenuously, and secreted their caps more +surreptitiously behind their legs,--and the most placid-looking +personage in the whole congregation was Josey Letherbarrow, who, in +a very clean smock, with a small red rose in his buttonhole, and his +silvery hair parted on either side and just touching his shoulders, +sat restfully in his own special corner not far from the pulpit, +leaning on his stick and listening with rapt attention to the fall +and flow of the organ music as it swept round him in soft and ever +decreasing eddies of sound. The bells ceased, and eleven o'clock +struck slowly from the church tower. At the last stroke, the +Reverend John entered the chancel in his plain white surplice, +spotless as new-fallen snow,-and as he knelt for a moment in silent +devotion, the voluntary ended with a grave, long, sustained chord. A +pause,--and then the 'Passon' rose, and faced his little flock, his +hand laid on the open 'Book of Common Prayer.' + +"When the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness that he hath +committed and doeth that which is lawful and right, he shall save +his soul alive." + +Walden's voice rang clear and sonorous,--the sunshine pouring +through the plain glass of the high rose-window behind and above +him, shed effulgence over the ancient sarcophagus in front of the +altar and struck from its alabaster whiteness a kind of double light +which, circling round his tall slight figure made it stand out in +singularly bold relief. + +"If we say that we have no sin we deceive ourselves and the truth is +not in us, but if we confess our sins He is faithful and just to +forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." + +A ripple of gay laughter here echoed in through the church doors, +which were left open for air on account of the great heat of the +day. There was an uneasy movement in the congregation,--some men and +women glanced at one another. That light, careless laughter was +distinctly discordant. The Reverend John drew himself up a little +more rigidly erect, and his face grew a shade paler. Steadily, he +read on:-- + +"Dearly beloved brethren, the Scripture moveth us in sundry places +to acknowledge and confess our manifold sins and wickedness; and +that we should not dissemble nor cloke them before the face of +Almighty God our Heavenly Father, but confess them with an humble, +lowly, penitent and obedient heart---" + +He ceased abruptly. A glimmer of colour,--a soft gliding swish of +silken skirts, an affectation of tip-toe movement up the nave,--a +wave of indescribable artificial perfume,--and then, a general stir +and head-turning among the people showed that a new and unaccustomed +element had suddenly merged into the simple human material whereof +the village of St. Rest was composed,--an element altogether strange +to it, not to say troublous and confusing. Walden saw, and bit his +lips hard,--his hand instinctively clenched itself nervously on the +'Book of Common Prayer.' But his rigid attitude did not relax, and +he remained mute, his eyes fixed steadily on the fashionably dressed +new-comers, who, greatly embarrassed by the interruption their late +entrance had caused,--an interruption emphasised in so marked a +manner by the silence of the officiating minister, made haste to +take the chairs pointed out to them by the verger, with crimsoning +faces and lowered eyelids. It was a new and most unpleasant +experience for them. They did not know, of course, that it was +Walden's habit to pause in whatever part of the service he was +reading if anyone came in late,--to wait till the tardy arrivals +took their places,--and then to begin the interrupted sentence over +again,--a habit which had effectually succeeded in making all his +parishioners punctual. + +But Maryllia, whose guests they were,--Maryllia, who was responsible +as their hostess for bringing them to church at all, and who +herself, with Cicely, was the last to enter after service had begun, +felt a rebellious wave of colour rushing up to her brows. It was +very rude of Mr. Walden, she thought, to stop short in his reading +and cause the whole congregation to turn and stare curiously at +herself and her friends just because they were a little bit behind +time! It exposed them all to public rebuke! And when the stir caused +by their entrance had subsided, she stood up almost defiantly, +lifting her graceful head haughtily, her soft cheeks glowing and her +eyes flashing, looking twenty times prettier even than usual as she +opened her daintily bound prayer-book with a careless, not to eay +indifferent air, as though her thoughts were thousands of miles away +from St. Rest and all belonging to it. Glancing at the different +members of her party, she was glad that one of them at least, Lady +Eva Beaulyon, had secured a front seat, for her ladyship was never +content unless she was well to the foremost of everything. She was a +reigning beauty,--the darling of the society press, and the model of +all aspiring photographers,--and she could hardly be expected to put +up with any obscure corner, even in a church;--if she ever went to +the Heaven of monkish legend, one could well imagine St. Peter +standing aside for her to pass. Close beside her was another +wonderful looking woman, a Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, a 'leader' in +society, who went everywhere, did everything, wore the newest coat, +skirt or hat from Paris directly it was put on the market, and wrote +accounts of herself and her 'smartness' to the American press under +a 'nom-de-plume.' She was not, like Lady Beaulyon, celebrated for +her beauty, but for her perennial youth. Her face, without being in +the least interesting or charming, was smooth and peach-coloured, +without a line of thought or a wrinkle of care upon it. Her eyes +were bright and quite baby-like in their meaningless expression, and +her hair was of the loveliest Titian red. She had a figure which was +the envy of all modellers of dress-stands,--and as she was wont to +say of herself, it would have been difficult to find fault with the +'chic' of her outward appearance. Painters and sculptors would have +found her an affront to nature--but then Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay had +no acquaintance with painters and sculptors. She thought them +'queer' people, with very improper ideas. She was exceedingly put +out by Walden's abrupt pause in his reading of the 'Dearly beloved,' +while she and the other members of the Manor house-party rustled +into their places,--and when he recommenced the exordium she +revenged herself by staring at him quizzically through a long- +handled tortoiseshell-mounted lorgnon. But she did not succeed in +confusing him at all, or in even attracting his attention,--so she +merely shrugged her shoulders, with what the French call an 'air +moqueuse.' + +The momentary confusion caused by the pause in the service soon +passed, and the spirit of calm again settled on the scene after the +'General Confession.' But Maryllia was deeply conscious of hurt and +vexation. It was too bad of Mr. Walden, she kept on. saying to +herself over and over again,--too bad! Her friends and herself were +only five or six minutes late, and to have stopped in his reading of +the service like that to put them all to shame was unkind--'yes, +unkind,' she said in her vexed soul,--vexed all the more because she +was inwardly conscious that Walden was right and herself wrong. She +knew well enough that she could have reached the church at eleven +had she chosen, and have brought her friends punctual to time as +well. She knew it was neither reverent nor respectful to interrupt +divine worship. But she was too irritated to reason the matter out +calmly just then,--all she could think of was that she and her +London guests had received a reproof from the minister of the +parish--silent, but none the less severe--before all the villagers- +before her own servants--and on the first occasion of her coming to +church, too! She could not get over it. + +"If he can see me," she thought, "he will know that I am angry!" + +Chafed little spirit!--as if it mattered to Walden whether she was +angry or not! He saw her well enough,--he noted her face 'red as a +rose,' with its mobile play of expression, set in its frame of +golden-brown hair,--it flitted, sunbeam-like between his eyes and +the 'Book of Common Prayer'--and, when he ceased reading, while the +village choir, rendered slightly nervous by the presence of 'the +quality,' chanted the 'O come let us sing unto the Lord,' he was +conscious of a sudden lassitude, arising, as he knew, from the +strain he had put upon himself for the past few minutes. He was, +however, quite calm and self-possessed when he rose to read the +Lessons of the Day, and the service proceeded as usual in the +perfectly simple, unadorned style of 'that pure and reformed part of +Christ's Holy Catholic Church which is established in this Realm.' +Now and then his attention wandered--once or twice his eyes rested +on the well-dressed group directly opposite to him with a kind of +vague regret and doubt. There was an emotion working in his soul to +which he could scarcely give a name. Instinctively he was conscious +that a certain embarrassment and uneasiness affected the ordinary +members of his congregation,--he knew that their minds were +disquieted and distracted,--that the girls and women were open-eyed +and almost open-mouthed at the sight of the fashionable costumes and +wondrous millinery which the ladies of Miss Vancourt's house-party +wore, and were dissatisfied with their own clothing in consequence,- +-and that the lads and men felt themselves to be awkward, uncouth +and foolish in the near presence of personages belonging to quite +another sphere than their own. He knew that the showy ephemera of +this world had by a temporary fire-fly glitter, fascinated the +simple souls that had been erstwhile glad to dwell for a space on +the contemplation of spiritual and heavenly things. He saw that the +matchless lesson of Christ's love to humanity was scarcely heeded in +the contemplation of how very much humanity was able to do for +itself even without Christ's love, provided it had money and the +devil to 'push' it on! He sighed a little;--and certain words in the +letter of his friend Bishop Brent came back to his memory--"Many +things seem to me hopeless,-utterly irremediable ... I grow tired of +my own puny efforts to lift the burden which is laid upon me." Then +other, and stronger, thoughts came to him, and when the time arrived +to read the Commandments, a rush of passion and vigorous intensity +filled him with a force far greater than he knew. Cicely Bourne said +afterwards that she should never forget the thrill that ran through +her like a shock of electricity, when he proclaimed from the altar:- +-"GOD spake these words and said: Thou shalt have none other gods +but me!" + +Looking up at this moment, she saw Julian Adderley in the aisle on +her left-hand side,--he too was staring at Walden as though he saw +the figure of a saint in a vision. But Maryllia kept her face +hidden, listening in a kind of awe, as each 'Commandment' was, as it +seemed, grandly and strenuously insisted upon by the clear voice +that had no tone of hypocrisy in its whole scale. + +"Thou shalt NOT bear false witness against thy neighbour!" + +Lady Beaulyon forgot to droop her head in the usual studied way +which she knew was so becoming to her,--the NOT was so emphatic. An +unpleasant shiver ran through her daintily-clothed person,--dear +me!--how often and often she had 'borne false witness,' not only +against her neighbour, but against everyone she could think of or +talk about! Where could be the fun of living if you must NOT swear +to as many lies about your neighbour as possible? No spice or savour +would be left in the delicate ragout of 'swagger' society! The +minister of St. Rest was really quite objectionable,--a ranter,--a +noisy, 'stagey' creature!--and both she and Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay +murmured to each other that they 'did not like him.' + +"So loud!" said Lady Beaulyon, breathing the words delicately +against her friend's Titian-red hair. + +"So provincial!" rejoined Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, in the same dulcet +undertone, adding to her remark the fervent--"Lord have mercy upon +us and incline our hearts to keep this law!" + +One very gratifying circumstance to these ladies, however, and one +that considerably astonished all the members of Miss Vancourt's +house-party, as well as Miss Vancourt herself, was that no +'collection' was made. Neither the church, the poor, nor some +distant mission to the heathen served as any excuse for begging, in +the shrine of the 'Saint's Rest.' No vestige of a money-box or +'plate' was to be seen anywhere. And this fact pre-disposed them to +survey Walden's face and figure with critical attention as he left +the chancel and ascended the pulpit during the singing of 'The Lord +is my Shepherd.' At the opening chords of that quaint and simple +hymn, Cicely Bourne glanced at Miss Eden and Susie Prescott with a +little suggestive smile, and caught their appealing glances,--then, +as the quavering chorus of boys and girls began, she raised her +voice as the 'leading soprano,' and like a thread of gold it twined +round all the notes and tied them together in clear and lovely +unison: + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want, + He maketh me down to lie, + In pleasant fields where the lilies grow, + And the river runneth by." + +Everyone in the congregation stared and seemed stricken with sudden +wonderment. Such singing they had never heard before. Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay put up her lorgnon. + +"It's Maryllia Vancourt's creature,"--she whispered--"The ugly child +she picked up in Paris. I suppose it really IS a voice?" + +"It really is, I think!" responded Lady Beaulyon, languidly, turning +her fair head to look at the plain sallow girl with the untidy black +hair whom she had only seen for a few minutes on her arrival at +Abbot's Manor the previous day, and whom she had scarcely noticed. +But Cicely saw her not--her whole soul was in her singing,--and she +had no glance even for Julian Adderley, who, gazing at her as if she +were already the prima donna in an opera, listened enrapt. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; He feedeth me, + In the depth of a desert land; + And, lest I should in the darkness slip, + He holdeth me by the hand." + +Maryllia felt a contraction in her throat, and her eyes +unconsciously filled with tears. How sweet that hymn was!--how very +sweet! Tender memories of her father crowded upon her,--her mother's +face, grown familiar to her sight from her daily visits to the now +no longer veiled picture in the Manor gallery, shone out upon her +from the altar like a glorified angel above the white sarcophagus +where the word 'Resurget' sparkled jewel-like in the sunshine,--and +she began to feel that after all there was something in the +Christian faith that was divinely helpful and uplifting to the soul. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want, + My mind on Him is stayed, + And though through the Valley of Death I walk, + I shall not be afraid!" + +Pure and true rang Cicely's young, fresh and glorious voice, +carrying all the voices of the children with it on the pulsating +waves of the organ chords,--and an impression of high exaltation, +serenity and peace, rested on the whole congregation with the +singing of the last verse-- + + "The Lord is my Shepherd: O Shepherd sweet, + Leave me not here to stray; + But guide me safe to Thy heavenly fold, + And keep me there, I pray! + Amen!" + +During the silence that immediately followed, Walden stood erect in +the pulpit, looking down upon the people. He saw Maryllia's face,-- +he saw all the eyes of her London friends fixed on him with a more +or less critical and supercilious stare,--he saw his own flock' +waiting for his first word with their usual air of respectful +attention,--every small point and detail in his surroundings became +suddenly magnified to his sight,--even the little rose in old Josey +Letherbarrow's smock caught his eye with an almost obtrusive flare. +The blithe soft carol of the birds outside sounded close and loud,-- +the buzzing of a bumble-bee that had found its way into the church +and was now bouncing fussily against a sunlit window, in its efforts +to pass through what seemed to itself clear space, made quite an +abnormal noise. His heart beat heavily,--he fancied he could hear it +thudding in his breast,--then, all at once, an inflow of energy +rushed upon him as though the 'fiery tongues' of which Adam Frost +had spoken, were in very truth descending upon him. Maryllia's face! +There it was--so winsome, so bright, and proud and provocative in +its every feature,--and the old French damask roses growing in her +garden borders could not show a prettier colour than her cheeks! He +lifted his hands. "Let us pray!" + +The villagers all obediently dropped on their knees. The Manor +'house-party' politely bent their heads. + +"Supreme Creator of the Universe, without Whose power and permission +no thought is ever generated in the brain of Thy creature, man; Be +pleased to teach me, Thy unworthy servant, Thy will and law this +day, that I may speak to this congregation even as Thou shalt +command, without any care for myself or my words, but in entire +submission to Thee and Thy Holy Spirit! Amen." + +He rose. The congregation rose with him. Some of the village folks +exchanged uneasy glances with one another. Was their beloved +'Passon' quite himself? He looked so very pale,--his eyes were so +unusually bright,--and his whole aspect so more than commonly +commanding. Almost nervously they fumbled with their Bibles as he +gave out the text:--"The twenty-sixth verse of the sixteenth chapter +of the Gospel according to St. Matthew." + +He paused, and then, as was his usual custom, patiently repeated-- +"The sixteenth chapter of the Gospel according to St. Matthew, +twenty-sixth verse." Again he waited, while the subdued rustling of +pages and turning over of books continued,--and finally pronounced +the words--"What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world +and lose his own soul?" Here he closed the Testament, leaning one +hand upon it. He had resolved to speak 'extempore,' just as the mood +moved him, and to make his discourse as brief as possible,--a mere +twelve minutes' sermon. For he knew that his ordinary congregation +were more affected by a sense of restlessness and impatience than +they themselves realised, and that such strangers as were present +were of a temperament more likely to be bored, than interested. + +"What is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world and lose +his own soul?"--he began, slowly, and with emphasis, his eyes +resting steadfastly on the fashionably-attired group of persons +immediately under his observation--"This was one of the questions +put by the Divine Man Christ, to men,--and was no doubt considered +then, as it surely is considered now, a very foolish enquiry. For to +'gain the whole world' is judged as so exceedingly profitable to +most people that they are quite willing to lose everything else they +have in exchange for it. They will gladly barter conscience, +principle, honour and truth to gain 'the whole world'--and as for +the 'soul,' that fine and immortal essence is treated by the +majority as a mere poetic phrase--a figure of speech, without any +real meaning behind it. I know well how some of you here to-day will +regret wasting your time in listening, even for a few minutes, to +anything about so obsolete a subject as the Soul! The Soul! What is +it? A fiction or a fact? How many of us possess a Soul, or THINK we +possess one? Of what is it composed, that it should be judged as so +much more precious than the Body?--the dear Body, which we pamper +and feed and clothe and cosset and cocker, till it struts on the +face of the planet, a mere magnified Ape of conceit and trickery, +sloth and sensuality, the one unforgivable anachronism in an +otherwise perfect Creation! For Body without Soul is a blot on the +Universe,--a distortion and abomination of nature, with which nature +by and by will have nothing to do. Yet I freely grant that while +Soul animates and inspires all creation, man cannot or will not +comprehend it; he may, therefore, in part, be condoned for not +endeavouring to 'save' what he is not taught to truly recognise. To +explain the 'Soul' more clearly, I will refer you all to the Book of +Genesis, where it is written--'And God made man of the dust of the +ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man +became A LIVING SOUL.' Thus we see that 'Soul' is the breath of God, +which is also the Eternal breath of Eternal Life. Each human being +is endowed with this essence of immortality, which cannot die with +death, being, as it is, the embryo of endless lives to come. This is +why it is pre-eminently valuable--this is why we should take heed +that it be not 'lost.' It may be argued--'How can anything be lost +which is eternally alive?' That proposition is easily answered. A +jewel may be 'lost' in the sea, but it is still existent as a jewel. +In the same way a man may 'lose' his Soul, though he can never +destroy it. It is the 'breath of God'--the germ of immortal Life,-- +and if one 'loses' it, another may find it. This is not only +religion,--it is also science. In the present age, when all +imagination, all poetry, all instinctive sense of the divine, is +being subordinated to what we consider as Fact, there is one supreme +mystery which eludes the research of the most acute and pitiless +materialist--and that is life itself,--its origin, its evolution and +its intention. We can do many wonderful things,--but we cannot re- +animate the corpse of a friend! Christ could do this, being Divinity +incarnate,--but we can only wring our hands helplessly, and wonder +where the spirit has fled,--that spirit which made our beloved one +speak to us, smile, and exchange the looks which express the +emotions of the heart more truly than words. We want the 'Soul' we +loved! The inanimate clay, stretched cold in its coffined rest, is a +strange sight to us. We do not know it. It is not our friend! Our +friend was the 'Soul' that lived in the clay,--the 'breath of God' +that moved our own 'Soul' to respond to it in affection and +tenderness. And we instinctively know and feel that though this +breath of God' is gone from us, it cannot be dead. And 'lost' is not +an expression that we would ever apply to it, because we hope and +believe it is 'found'--found by its Creator, and taught to realise +and rejoice in its own immortality. All religion means this,--the +'finding' of the Soul. The passion of our Saviour teaches this,--His +resurrection, His ascension into Heaven, symbolises and expresses +the same thing. Yet, in the words of Christ Himself, it would +nevertheless seem, that the 'Soul' divinely generated and immortal +as it is, can be 'lost' by our own act and will. 'What is a man +profited, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?' I +venture to think the text implies, that in the very attempt to 'gain +the whole world,' the loss of the soul is involved. I am not going +to detain you here this morning with a long exordium concerning how +some of you can and may, if you choose, play havoc with the +priceless gift God baa bestowed upon each one of you. I only desire +to impress upon you all, with the utmost earnestness, that it is +idle to say among yourselves 'We have no souls,' or 'The soul is an +unknown quantity and cannot be proved.' The soul is as and actual a +part of you as the main artery is of the body,--and that you cannot +see it, touch it, or put it under the surgeon's dissecting knife is +no proof that it is not there. You might as well say life itself +does not exist, because you cannot see its primaeval causes or +beginnings. The Soul is the centre of your being,--the compass of +your life-journey,--the pivot round which, whether you will or not, +you shape your actions in this world for the next. If you lose that +mainspring of motive, you lose all. Your conduct, your speech, your +expression in every movement and feature all show the ungoverned and +ungovernable condition in which you are. God is not mocked,--and in +many cases,--taking the grand majority of the human race,--neither +is man!" + +He paused. The congregation was very quiet. He felt, rather than +saw, that Maryllia's eyes were fixed upon him,--and he was perfectly +aware that Lady Beaulyon,--whom he recognised, as he would have +recognised an actress, on account of the innumerable photographs of +her which were on sale in the windows of every stationer in every +moderate-sized town,--was gazing straight up at him with a bright, +mocking glance in which lurked a suspicion of disdain and laughter. +Moved by a sudden impulse, he bent his own regard straight down upon +her with an inflexible cool serenity. An ugly frown puckered her +ladyship's brow at once,--and she lowered her eyelids angrily. + +"I say God is not mocked,"--he continued slowly; "Neither is man! +The miserable human being that has 'lost' his or her Soul, may be +assured that the 'gain' of the whole world in exchange, will prove +but Dead Sea fruit, bitter and tasteless, and in the end wholly +poisonous. Loss of the Soul is marked by moral degradation and +deterioration,--and this inward crumbling and rotting of all noble +and fine feeling into baseness, shows itself on the fairest face,-- +the proudest form. The man who lies against his neighbour for the +sake of worldly convenience or personal revenge, writes the lie in +his own countenance as he utters it. It engraves its mark,--it can +be seen by all who read physiognomy--it says plainly--'Let not this +man be trusted!' The woman who is false and treacherous carries the +stigma on her features, be they never so perfect. The creature of +clay who has lost Soul, likewise lacks Heart,--and the starved, +hopeless poverty of such an one is disclosed in him, even if he be a +world's millionaire. Moreover, 'Soul'--that delicate, divine, +eternal essence, is easily lost. Any earthly passion carried to +excess, will overwhelm it, and sink it in an unfathomable sea. It +can slip away in the pursuit of ambition,--in schemes for self- +aggrandisement,--in the building up of huge fortunes,--in the pomp, +and show, and vanity of mundane things. It flies from selfishness +and sensuality. It can be lost in hate,--it can equally be lost in +love!" + +Again he paused--then went on--"Yes--for even in love, that purest +and most elevating of human emotions, the Soul must have its way +rather than the Body. Loss of the 'Soul' in love, means that love +then becomes the mere corpse of itself, and must needs decay with +all other such dust-like things. In every sentiment, in every +thought, in every hope, in every action, let us find the 'Soul,' and +never let it go! For without it, no great deed can be done, no +worthy task accomplished, no life lived honourably and straightly in +the sight of God. It shall profit us nothing to be famous, witty, +wealthy, or admired, if we are mere stuffed figures of clay without +the 'breath of God' as our animating life principle. The simple +peasant, who has enough 'soul' in him to reverently watch the sunset +across the hills, and think of God as the author of all that +splendour, is higher in the spiritual scale than the learned scholar +who is too occupied with himself and his own small matters to notice +whether it is a sunset or a house on fire. The 'soul' in a man +should be his sense, his sight, his touch, his very inmost and +dearest centre,--the germ of all good,--the generator of all peace +and hope and happiness. It is the one and only thing to foster,--the +one and only thing to save,--the only part of man which, belonging +as it does to God, God will require again. Some of you here present +to-day will perhaps think for a little while on what I have said +when you leave this church,--and others will at once forget it,--but +think, forget, or remember as you choose, the truth remains, that +all of you, young and old, rich and poor, are endowed in your own +selves with the 'making of an angel.' The 'Soul' within you, which +you may elect to keep or to lose, is the infant of Heaven. It +depends on you for care,--for sustenance;--it needs all your work +and will to aid it in growing up to its full stature and perfection. +It shall profit you nothing if you gain the whole world, and at +death have naught to give to your Maker but crumbling clay. Let the +Angel be ready,--the 'Soul' in you prepared, and full-winged for +flight! According to the power and purity with which you have +invested and surrounded it, will be its fate. If you have +voluntarily checked and stunted its aspirations, even so checked and +stunted must be its next probation,--but if you have faithfully done +your best to nourish it with loving thoughts and noble aims,--if you +have given it room to expand and shine forth with all its own +original God-born radiance, then will its ascension to a higher +sphere of action and attainment be attended with unimaginable joy +and glory. Let the world go, rather than lose the Divine Light +within you! For that Light will, and must, attract all that is worth +knowing, worth loving and worth keeping in our actual environment. +The rest can be well spared,--whether it be money, position, +notoriety or social influence,--for none of these things last,--none +of them are in any way precious, save to such ignorant and misguided +persons as are deceived by external shows. The Soul is all! Keep but +that 'breath of God' within you, and the world becomes merely one +step of the ladder on which you may easily mount through everlasting +love upon love, joy upon joy, to the utmost height of Heaven!" + +He ceased. For a moment there was a profound stillness. And then, +with the usual formula--"Now to God the Father, God the Son, and God +the Holy Ghost be praise, honour and glory for ever and ever"--the +congregation stood up. Lady Beaulyon shook her silken skirts +delicately. Mrs. Bludlip Oourtenay put her hand to her back hair +coil and made sure that it was safe. And there was a general stir +and movement, which instantly subsided again, as the people knelt to +receive the parting benediction. Maryllia's eyes were riveted on +Walden as he stretched out his hands;--she was conscious of a +certain vague awe and reverence for this man with whom she had so +casually walked and talked, only as it seemed the other day;--he +appeared, as it were, removed from her by an immeasurable distance,- +-his spirit and hers had gone wide apart,--his was throned upon a +height of noble ideals,--hers was low, low down in a little valley +of worldly nothings,--and oh, how small and insignificant she felt! +Cicely's hand caught hers and gave it an affectionate little +pressure, as they bowed their heads together under the solemnly +pronounced blessing. + +"The peace of God which passeth all understanding, keep your hearts +and minds in the knowledge and love of God, and of His Son Jesus +Christ our Lord,"--here Walden turned ever so slightly towards the +place where Maryllia knelt; "and the blessing of God Almighty, the +Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, be amongst you and remain with +you always!" + +"A---men!" + +With this last response from the choir, the congregation began to +disperse, and Walden, glancing over the little moving crowd, saw the +eager bustle and pressure of all its units to look at 'the ladies +from the Manor' and take stock of their wonderful costumes. The grip +of 'the world' was on them, and the only worshipper remaining +quietly in his place, with hands clasped across his stick, and eyes +closed, was Josey Letherbarrow. The old man seemed to be praying +inwardly--his face was rapt and serene. Walden looked down upon him +very tenderly. A verse of Browning's ran through his mind:-- + + "Grow old along with me! + The best is yet to be, + The last of life for which the first was made. + Our times are in His hand, + Who saith: 'A whole I planned,' + Youth shows but half; trust God; see all, nor be afraid!" + + +And musing on this, he descended slowly from the pulpit and retired. + + + + +XIX + + +Outside in the churchyard, there was a general little flutter of +local excitement. Maryllia lingered there for several minutes, +pointing out the various beauties in the architecture of the church +to her guests, not that these individuals were very much interested +in such matters, for they were of that particular social type which +considers that the highest form of good breeding is to show a polite +nullity of feeling concerning everything and everybody. They were +eminently 'cultured,' which nowadays means pre-eminently dull. Had +they been asked, they would have said that it is dangerous to +express any opinion on any subject,--even on the architecture of a +church. Because the architect himself might be somewhere near,--or +the architect's father, or his mother or his great-grandam--one +never knows! And by a hasty remark in the wrong place and at the +wrong moment, one might make an unnecessary enemy. It is so much +nicer--so much safer to say nothing at all! Of course they looked at +the church,--it would have been uncivil to their hostess not to look +at it, as she was taking the trouble to call their attention to its +various points, and they assumed the usual conventional air of +appreciative admiration. But none of, them understood anything about +it,--and none of them cared to understand. They had not even noticed +the ancient sarcophagus in front of the altar except as 'some odd +kind of sculptured ornament.' When they wore told what it was, they +smiled vacuously, and said: 'How curious!' But further than this +mild and non-aggressive exclamation they did not venture. The +villagers hung about shyly, loth to lose sight of the 'quality';-- +two or three 'county' people lingered also, to stare at, and comment +upon, the notorious 'beauty,' Lady Beaulyon, whose physical charms, +having been freely advertised for some years in the society columns +of the press, were naturally 'on show' for the criticism of Tom, +Dick and Harry,--Mrs. Mandeville Poreham, marshalling her five +marriageable daughters together, stalked magisterially to her +private 'bus, very much en evidence, and considerably put out by the +supercilious gaze and smile of the perfectly costumed Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay,--Julian Adderley, coming up in response to the beckoning +finger of Cicely Bourne, was kindly greeted by Maryllia, introduced +to one or two of her friends, and asked then and there to luncheon, +an invitation he accepted with alacrity, and, after this, all the +Manor party started with their hostess to walk home, leaving the +village and villagers behind them, and discussing as they went, the +morning's service and sermon in the usual brief and desultory style +common to fashionable church-goers. The principal impression they +appeared to have on their minds was one of vague amusement. The +notion that any clergyman should have the 'impudence'--(this was the +word used by Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay)--to pause in the service +because people came in late, touched the very apex of absurdity. + +"So against his own interests too,"--said Lady Beaulyon, carelessly- +-"Because where would all the parsons be if they offended their +patrons?" + +Mr. Bludlip Courtenay, a thin gentleman with a monocle--assented to +this proposition with a "Where indeed!" He considered that clergymen +should not forget themselves,--they should show proper respect +towards those on whom they depended for support. + +"Mr. Walden depends on God for support, I believe,"--said Cicely +Bourne suddenly. + +Mr. Bludlip Courtenay fixed his monocle firmly in his left eye and +stared at her. + +"Really!" he drawled dubiously--"You surprise me!" + +"It IS funny, isn't it?" pursued Cicely--"So unlike the Apostles!" + +Maryllia smiled. Lady Beaulyon laughed outright. + +"Are you trying to be satirical, you droll child?" she enquired +languidly. + +"Oh no, I'm not trying,"--replied Cicely, with a quick flash of her +dark eyes--"It comes quite easy! You were talking about clergymen +offending their patrons. Now Mr. Walden hasn't got any patron to +offend. He's his own patron." "Has he purchased the advowson, +then?" enquired Mr. Courtenay--"Or, to put it more conventionally, +has he obtained it through a friend at court?" + +"I don't know anything about the how or the why or the when,"--said +Cicely--"But I know he owns the living and the church. So of course +if he chooses to show people what he thinks of them when they come +in to service late, he can do it. If they don't like it, he doesn't +care. He doesn't ask anybody for anything,--he doesn't even send +round a collection plate." + +"No--_I_ noticed that!--awfully jolly!"--said a good-natured looking +man who had been walking beside Julian Adderley,--a certain Lord +Charlemont whose one joy in life was motoring--"Awfully game! Ought +to make him quite famous!" + +"It ought,--it ought indeed!" agreed Adderley--"I do not suppose +there is another clergyman in England who obliterates the plate from +the worship of the Almighty! It is so remote--so very remote!" + +"I think he's a funny sort of parson altogether,"--said Cicely +meditatively--"He doesn't beg, borrow or steal,--he isn't a toady, +he isn't a hypocrite, and he speaks his mind. Queer, isn't it?" + +"Very!" laughed Lord Charlemont--"I don't know another like him, +give you my word!" + +"Well, he can't preach,"--said Lady Beaulyon, decisively--"I never +heard quite such a stupid sermon." + +All the members of the house-party glanced at one another to see if +this verdict were generally endorsed. Apparently some differed in +opinion. + +"Didn't you like it, Eva?" asked Maryllia. + +"My dear child! Who COULD like it! Such transcendental stuff! And +all that nonsense about the Soul! In these scientific days too!" + +"Ah science, science!" sighed Mr. Bludlip Courtenay, dropping his +monocle with a sharp click against his top waistcoat button--"Where +will it end?" + +Nobody volunteered a reply to this profound proposition. + +"'Souls' are noted for something else than being saved for heaven +nowadays, aren't they, Lady Beaulyon?" queried Lord Charlemont, with +a knowing smile. + +Lady Beaulyon's small, rather hard mouth tightened into a thin line. + +"I really don't know!"--she said carelessly--"If you mean the social +'Souls,' they are rather unconventional certainly, and not always +discreet. But they are generally interesting--much more so, I should +think, than such 'Souls' as the parson preached about just now." + +"Indeed, yes!" agreed Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay--"I can imagine nothing +more tiresome than to be a Soul without a Body, climbing from height +to height of a heaven where there is no night, no sleep, no rest for +ever and ever. Simply dreadful! But there!--one only goes to church +for form's sake--just as an example to one's servants--and when it's +done, don't you think it's best to forget it as soon as possible?" + +She raised her baby eyes appealingly as she put the question. + +Everybody laughed, or rather sniggered. Real honest laughter is not +considered 'good form' by certain sections of society. A gentle +imitation of the nanny-goat's bleat is the most seemly way for +cultured persons to give vent to the expression of mirth. Maryllia +alone was grave and preoccupied. The conversation of her guests +annoyed her, though in London she had been quite well accustomed to +hear people talk lightly and callously of religion and all religious +subjects. Yet here, in the quiet country, things were different, +somehow. God seemed nearer,--it was more difficult to blaspheme and +ignore Him. And there was a greater sense of regret and humiliation +in one's self for one's own lack of faith. Though, at the same time, +it has to be reluctantly conceded that in no quarter of the world is +religious hypocrisy and sham so openly manifested as in the English +provinces, and especially in the small towns, where, notwithstanding +the fact that all the Sundays are passed in persistent church and +chapel going, the result of this strenuous sham piety is seen in the +most unchristian back-biting and mischief-making on every week-day. + +But St. Rest was not a town. It was a tiny village apart,--utterly +free from the petty pretensions of its nearest neighbour, +Riversford, which considered itself almost 'metropolitan' on account +of its modern red-brick and stucco villas into which its trades- +people 'retired' as soon as they had made enough money to be able to +pretend that they had never stood behind a counter in their lives. +St. Rest, on the contrary, was simple in its tastes,--so simple as +to be almost primitive, particularly in its religious sentiments, +which the ministry of John Walden had, so far, kept faithful and +pure. Its atmosphere was therefore utterly at variance with the +cheap atheism of the modern world, and it was this discordancy which +struck so sharply on Maryllia's emotional nature and gave her such a +sense of unaccustomed pain. + +At the Manor there were a few other visitors who had not attended +church,--none of them important, except to themselves and the +society paragraphist,--none of them distinguished as ever having +done anything particularly good, or useful in the world,--and none +of them possessing any very unconventional characteristics, with the +exception of two very quaint old ladies, who were known somewhat +irreverently among their acquaintances as the 'Sisters Gemini.' They +were of good birth and connection, but, being cast adrift as wrecks +on the shores of Time,--the one as a widow, the other as a +spinster,--had sworn eternal friendship on the altar of their +several disillusioned and immolated affections. In the present day +we are not overtroubled by any scruples of reverence for either old +widowhood or old spinsterhood; and the 'Sisters Gemini' had become a +standing joke with the self-styled 'wise and witty' of London +restaurants and late suppers. Lady Wicketts and Miss Fosby were +their actual names, and they were happily unconscious of the +unfeeling sobriquet bestowed upon them when they were out of +hearing. Lady Wicketts had once been a reigning 'beauty,' and she +lived on the reputation of that glorious past. Miss Fosby aided and +abetted her in this harmless self-deception. Lady Wicketts had been +painted by all the famous artists of her era, from the time of her +seventeeth birthday to her thirtieth. She had been represented as a +'Shepherdess,' a 'Madonna,' a 'Girl with Lilies,' a 'Lady with a +Greyhound,' a 'Nymph Sleeping,' and more briefly and to the +purpose, as 'Portrait of Lady Wicketts,' in every exhibition of +pictures that had been held during her youth and prime. Miss Fosby +carried prints and photographs of these works of art everywhere +about with her. She would surprise people by casually taking one of +them out of her album and saying softly "Isn't that beautiful?" + +And then, if the beholders fell into the trap and uttered +exclamations of rapture at the 'Shepherdess' or the 'Madonna,' or +whatever allegorical subject it happened to be, she would smile +triumphantly and say-'Lady Wicketts!'--to all appearance enjoying +the violent shock of incredulous amazement which her announcement +invariably inflicted on all those who received it. + +"Not possible!" they would murmur--"Lady Wicketts---!" + +"Yes,--Lady Wicketts when she was young,"--Miss Fosby would say +mildly--"She was very beautiful when she was twenty. She is sixty- +seven now. But she is still beautiful,--don't you think so? She has +such an angelic expression! And she is so good--ah!--so very goodl +There is no one like Lady Wicketts!" + +All this was very sweet and touching on the part of Miss Fosby, so +far as Miss Fosby alone was concerned. To her there was but one +woman in the world, and that was Lady Wicketts. But the majority of +people saw Lady Wicketts in quite another light. They knew she had +been, in her time, as unprincipled as beautiful, and that she had +'gone the pace' more openly than most of her class. They beheld her +now without spectacles,--an enormously fat woman, with a large round +flaccid face, scarred all over by Time's ploughshare with such deep +furrows that one might have sown seed in them and expected it to +grow. + +But Miss Fosby still recognised the 'Shepherdess,' the 'Madonna' and +the 'Girl with Lilies,' in the decaying composition of her friend, +and Miss Fosby was something of a bore in consequence, though the +constancy of her devotion to a totally unworthy object was quaintly +pathetic in its way. The poor soul herself was nearer seventy than +sixty, and she was quite as lean as her idol was fat,--she had never +been loved by anyone in all her life, but,--in her palmy days,--she +had loved. And the necessity of loving had apparently remained a +part of her nature, otherwise it would have been a sheer +impossibility for her to have selected so strange a fetish as Lady +Wicketts for her adoration. Lady Wicketts did not, in any marked +way, respond to Miss Fosby's tenderness,--she merely allowed herself +to be worshipped, just as in her youth she had allowed scores of +young bloods to kiss her hand and murmur soft nothings in her then +'shell-like' ear. The young bloods were gone, but Miss Fosby +remained. Better the worship of Miss Fosby than no worship at all. +Maryllia had met these two old ladies frequently at various +Continental resorts, when she had travelled about with her aunt,-- +and she had found something amusing and interesting in them both, +especially in Miss Fosby, who was really a good creature,--and when +in consultation with Cicely as to who, among the various people she +knew, should be asked down to the Manor and who should not, she had +selected them as a set-off to the younger, more flippant and casual +of her list, and also because they were likely to be convenient +personages to play chaperones if necessary. + +For the rest, the people were of the usual type one has got +accustomed to in what is termed 'smart' society nowadays,--listless, +lazy, more or less hypocritical and malicious,--apathetic and +indifferent to most things and most persons, save and except those +with whom unsavoury intrigues might or would be possible,--sneering +and salacious in conversation, bitter and carping of criticism, +generally blase, and suffering from the incurable ennui of utter +selfishness,--the men concentrating their thoughts chiefly on +racing, gaining, and Other Men's Wives,--the women dividing all +their stock of emotions between Bridge, Dress, and Other Women's +Husbands. And when Julian Adderley, as an author in embryo, found +himself seated at luncheon with this particular set of persons, all +of whom were more or less well known in the small orbit wherein they +moved, he felt considerably enlivened and exhilarated. Life was +worth living, he said to himself, when one might study at leisure +the little tell-tale lines of vice and animalism on the exquisite +features of Lady Beaulyon, and at the same time note admiringly how +completely the united forces of massage and self-complacency had +eradicated every wrinkle from the expressionless countenance of Mrs. +Bludlip Courtenay. These two women were, in a way, notorious as +'leaders' of their own special coteries of social scandalmongers and +political brokers; Lady Beaulyon was known best among Jew +financiers; Mrs. Courtenay among American 'Kings' of oil and steel. +Each was in her own line a 'power,'--each could coax large advances +of money out of the pockets of millionaires to further certain +'schemes' which were vaguely talked about, but which never came to +fruition,--each had a little bevy of young journalists in +attendance,--press boys whom they petted and flattered, and +persuaded to write paragraphs concerning their wit, wisdom and +beauty, and how they 'looked radiant in pink' or 'dazzling in pea +green.' Contemplating first one and then the other of these ladies, +Julian almost resolved to compose a poem about them, entitled 'The +Sirens' and, dividing it into Two Cantos, to dedicate the First +Canto to Lady Beaulyon and the Second to Mrs. Courtenay. + +"It would be so new--so fresh!" he mused, with a bland anticipation +of the flutter such a work might possibly cause among society dove- +cots--"And if ALL the truth were told, so much more risque than 'Don +Juan'!" + +Glancing up and down, and across the hospitable board, exquisitely +arranged with the loveliest flowers and fruit, and the most +priceless old silver, he noticed that every woman of the party was +painted and powdered except Maryllia, and her young protegee, +Cicely. The dining-room of Abbot's Manor was not a light apartment,- +-its oak-panelled walls and raftered ceiling created shadow rather +than luminance,--and though the windows were large and lofty, rising +from the floor to the cornice, their topmost panes were of very old +stained glass, so that the brightest sunshine only filtered, as it +were, through the deeply-encrusted hues of rose and amber and +amethyst squares, painted with the arms of the Vancourts, and +heraldic emblems of bygone days. Grateful and beautiful indeed was +this mysteriously softened light to the ladies round the table,--and +for a brief space they almost LOVED Maryllia. For HER face was +flushed, and quite uncooled by powder--'like a dairymaid's--she will +get so coarse if she lives in the country always!' Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay confided softly to Lord Charlemont, who vaguely murmured-- +'Ah! Yes! I daresay!' quite without any idea of what the woman was +talking about. Maryllia's pretty hair too was ruffled, she having +merely taken off her hat in the hall on her return from church, +without troubling to go up to her room and 'touch up' her appearance +as all the other ladies who had suffered from walking exercise had +done,--and her eyes looked just a trifle tired. Adderley found her +charming with this shade of fatigue and listlessness upon her,--more +charming than in her most radiant phases of vivacity. Her peach-like +skin, warmed as it was by the sun, was tinted with Nature's own +exquisite colouring, and compared most favourably with the cosmetic +art so freely displayed by her female friends on either side of her. +Julian began to con verses in his head, and he recalled the lines of +seventeeth-century Eichard Crashaw:-- + + "A Face that's best + By its own beauty drest, + And can alone command the rest." + +And he caught himself wondering why,--whenever he came near the Lady +of the Manor,--he was anxious to seem less artificial, less +affected, and more of a man than his particular 'Omar Kayyam' set +had taught him to be. The same praiseworthy desire moved him in the +company of John Walden, therefore sex could have nothing to do with +it. Was it 'Soul'?--that 'breath of God' which had been spoken of in +the pulpit that morning? + +He could not, however, dwell upon this rather serious proposition at +luncheon, his thoughts being distracted by the conversation, if +conversation it could be called, that was buzzing on either side of +the table, amidst the clattering of plates and the popping of +champagne corks. It was neither brilliant, witty nor impersonal,-- +brilliant, witty and impersonal talk is never generated in modem +society nowadays. "I would much rather listen to the conversation of +lunatics in the common room of an asylum, than to the inane gabble +of modern society in a modern drawing-room"--said a late +distinguished politician to the present writer--"For the lunatics +always have the glimmering of an idea somewhere in their troubled +brains, but modern society has neither brains nor ideas." +Fragmentary sentences, often slangy, and occasionally ungrammatical, +seemed most in favour with the Manor 'house-party,'--and for a time +splinters of language flew about like the chips from dry timber +under a woodman's axe, without shape, or use, or meaning. It was a +mere confused and senseless jabber--a jabber in which Maryllia took +no part. She sat very quietly looking from one face to the other at +table with a critical interest. These were the people she had met +every day more or less in London,--some of them had visited her aunt +constantly, and had invited her out to dinners and luncheons, 'at +homes,' balls and race parties, and all were considered to be 'very +select' in every form that is commended by an up-to-date +civilisation. Down here, in the stately old-world surroundings of +Abbot's Manor, they looked very strange to her,--nay, even more than +strange. Clowns, columbines and harlequins with all their 'make-up' +on, could not have seemed more out of place than these socially +popular persons in the historic house of her ancestors. Lady +Beaulyon was perhaps the most remarkable 'revelation' of the whole +company. Maryllia had always admired Eva Beaulyon with quite an +extravagant admiration, on account of her physical charm and grace,- +-and had also liked her sufficiently well to entirely discredit the +stories that were rife about the number of her unlawful amours. That +she was an open flirt could not be denied,--but that she ever +carried a flirtation beyond bounds, Maryllia would never have +believed. Now, however, a new light seemed thrown upon her--there +was a touch of something base in her beauty--a flash of cruelty in +her smile--a hardness in her eyes. Maryllia looked at her wistfully +now and then, and was half sorry she had invited her, the +disillusion was so complete. + +The luncheon went on, and was soon over, and coffee and cigarettes +were served. All the women smoked with the exception of Maryllia, +Cicely and old Miss Fosby. The rings of pale blue vapour circled +before Maryllia's eyes in a dim cloud,--she had seen the same kind +of mixed smoking going on before, scores of times, and yet now--why +was it that she felt vaguely annoyed by a sense of discrepancy and +vulgarity She could not tell. Cicely watched her lovingly,--and +every now and again Julian Adderley, waving away the smoke of his +own cigar with one hand, studied her face and tried to fathom its +expression. She spoke but little, and that chiefly to Lord +Charlemont who was on her left-hand side. + +"And how long are you going to stay in this jolly old place, Miss +Vancourt?" he asked. + +"All my life, I hope,"--she said with a little smile--"It is my own +home, you know." + +"Oh yes!--I know!--but--" he hesitated for a moment; "But your aunt- +--" + +"Aunt Emily and I don't quite agree,"--said Maryllia, quietly--"She +has been very kind to me in the past,--but since Uncle Fred's death, +things have not been just as pleasant. You see, I speak frankly. +Besides I'm getting on towards thirty,--it's time I lived my own +life, and tried to do something useful." + +Charlemont laughed. + +"You look more like eighteen than thirty,"--he said--"Why give +yourself away?" + +"Is that giving myself away?" and she raised her eyebrows +quizzically--"I'm not thirty yet--I'm twenty-seven,--but that's old +enough to begin to take things seriously. I've made up my mind to +live here at Abbot's Manor and do all I can for the tenantry and the +village generally--I'm sure I shall be perfectly happy." "How about +getting married?" he queried. + +Her blue eyes darkened with a shade of offence. + +"The old story!" she said--"Men always think a woman must be married +to be happy. It doesn't at all follow. I know heaps and heaps of +married women, and they are in anything but an enviable state. I +would not change with one of them!" + +"Would you like to be another Miss Fosby?" he suggested in a +mirthful undertone. + +She smiled. + +"Well--no! But I would rather be Miss Fosby than Lady Wicketts!" + +Here she rose, giving the signal for general adjournment to the +drawing-room. The windows of this apartment were set open, and a +charming garden vista of lawn and terraee and rose-walk opened out +before the eyes. + +"Now for Bridge!" said Lady Beaulyon--"I'm simply dying for a game!" + +"So am I!" declared Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay--"Lord Charlemont, you'll +play?" + +"Charmed, I'm sure!" was the ready response. "Where shall we put the +card tables? Near the window? Such an enjoyable prospect!" + +"We'll have two tables, or even three,"--said Lady Beaulyon; "I +suppose most of us will play?" + +"Oh yes!" "Why of course!" "I should think so!" "Just what we're all +longing for!" Such were the expressions of general delight and +acceptance chorussed by the whole party. + +"You'll join, Lady Wicketts?" + +"With pleasure!" and Lady Wicketts' sunken old eyes gleamed with an +anxious light over the furrows of flesh which encircled them, as she +promptly deserted Miss Fosby, who had been sitting next to her, for +the purpose of livelier entertainment;--and in a moment there was a +general gathering together in the wide embrasure of the window nook, +and an animated discussion as to who should play Bridge and who +should not. Maryllia watched the group silently. There were varying +shades of expression on her mobile features. She held Cicely's hand +in her own,--and was listening to some of Adderley's observations on +quite ordinary topics, when suddenly, with, an impulsive movement, +she let Cicely go, and with an 'Excuse me!' to Julian, went towards +her guests. She had made a resolve;--it would be an attempt to swim +against the social current, and it was fraught with difficulty and +unpleasantness,--yet she was determined to do it. "If I am a coward +now," she thought--"I shall never be brave!" Her heart beat +uncomfortably, and she could feel the blood throbbing nervously in +her veins, as she bent her mind to the attitude she was about to +take up, regardless of mockery or censure. Scraps of the window +conversation fell on her ears--"I won forty pounds last Wednesday,-- +it just paid my boot-bill!" said one young woman, laughing +carelessly. + +"Luckier than me!" retorted a man next to her--"I had to pay a +girl's losses to the tune of a hundred. It's all right though!" And +he grinned suggestively. + +"Is she pretty?" + +"Ripping!" + +"I want to make up five hundred pounds this week," observed Mrs. +Bludlip Courtenay, in the most serious and matter-of-fact way--"I've +won it all but a hundred and fifty." + +"Good for you!" + +"Rather!" said Lord Charlemont, nodding approval--"I'd like to get +you for a partner!" + +"I AM considered lucky,"--smiled Mrs. Courtenay, with an air of +virtuous pride--"I always win SOMETHING!" + +"Well, let's begin at once,--we'll play all the afternoon." said +Lady Beaulyon. + +"Where are the tables?" "AND the cards?" + +"Ask Maryllia---" + +But at that moment Maryllia stepped gently into their midst, her +eyes shining, her face very pale. + +"Not on Sunday, please!" she said. + +A stillness fell upon them all. They gazed upon each other in sheer +stupefaction. Lady Beaulyon smiled disdainfully. + +"Not on Sunday? What are you talking about, Maryllia? Not WHAT on +Sunday?" + +"Not Bridge,"--replied Maryllia, in her clear soft voice--"I do not +allow it." + +Fresh glances of wonderment were exchanged. The men hummed and hawed +and turned themselves about on their heels--the women simply stared. +Lady Beaulyon burst out laughing. + +"Ridiculous!" she exclaimed,--then flushed, and bit her lip, knowing +that such an ejaculation was scarcely civil to her hostess. But +Maryllia took no offence. + +"Pray do not think me discourteous,"--she said, very sweetly. "I +would not interfere with your pleasure in any way if I could +possibly help it. But in this instance I really must do so." + +"Oh certainly, Miss Vancourt!" "We would not think of playing if you +do not wish it!" These, and similar expressions came from Lord +Charlemont, and one or two others. + +"My dear Maryllia," said Mrs. Courtenay, reproachfully--"You are +really VERY odd! I have myself seen you playing Bridge, Sunday after +Sunday at your aunt's house in London. Why should you now suddenly +object to your friends doing what you have so often done yourself?" + +Maryllia flushed a pretty rose-red. + +"In my aunt's house I had to do as my aunt wished, Mrs. Courtenay," +she said--"In my own house I do as _I_ wish!" + +Here her face relaxed into a bright smile, as she raised her candid +blue eyes to the men standing about her--"I'm sure you won't mind +amusing yourselves with something else than cards, just for one day, +will you? Come into the garden,--it's such a perfect afternoon! The +rose-walk just opposite leads down to the bank of the river,--would +some of you like to go on the water? There are two boats ready there +if you would. And do forgive me for stopping your intended game!-- +you can play Bridge every day in the week if you like, but spare the +Sunday!" + +There was a brief awkward pause. Then Eva Beaulyon turned her back +indifferently on the whole party and stepped out on the lawn. She +was followed by Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, and both ladies gave vent to +small smothered bleats of mocking laughter as they sauntered across +the grass side by side. But Maryllia did not care. She had carried +her point, and was satisfied. The Sunday's observance in Abbot's +Manor, always rigorously insisted upon by her father, would not be +desecrated by card-playing and gambling under his daughter's sway. +That was enough for her. A serene content dwelt in her eyes as she +watched her guests disperse and scatter themselves in sections of +twos and threes all over the garden and grounds--and she said the +pleasantest and kindest things when any of them passed her on their +way, telling them just where to find the prettiest nooks, and where +to pick the choicest fruit and flowers. Lord Charlemont watched her +with a sense of admiration for her 'pluck.' + +"By Jove!" he thought--"I'd rather have fronted the guns in a +pitched battle than have forbidden my own guests to play Bridge on +Sunday! Wants nerve,--upon my soul it does!--and the little woman's +got it--you bet she has!" Aloud he said-- + +"I'm awfully glad to be let off Bridge, Miss Vancourt! A day's +respite is a positive boon!" + +"Do you play it so often, then?" she asked gently. He flushed +slightly. + +"Too often, I'm afraid! But how can I help it? One must do something +to kill time!" + +"Poor Time!" said Maryllia, with a smile--"Why should he be killed? +I would rather make much of him while I have him!" + +Charlemont did not answer. He lit a cigar and strolled away by +himself to meditate. + +Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay just then re-entered the drawing-room from +the garden, fanning herself vigorously with her handkerchief. + +"It is so frightfully warm!" she complained--"Such a burning sun! So +bad for the skin! They are picking strawberries and eating them off +the plants--very nice, I daresay--but quite messy. Eva Beaulyon and +two of the men have taken a boat and gone on the water. If you don't +mind, Maryllia, I shall rest and massage till dinner." + +"Pray do so!" returned Maryllia, kindly, smiling, despite herself; +Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay's life was well-nigh, spent in 'massage' and +various other processes for effacing the prints of Time from her +carefully guarded epidermis--"But I was just going to ask Cicely to +play us something. Won't you wait five minutes and hear her?" + +Mrs. Courtenay sighed and sank into a chair. Nothing bored her so +utterly as music,--but as it was only for 'five minutes,' she +resigned herself to destiny. And Cicely, at a sign from Maryllia, +went to the piano and played divinely,--wild snatches of Polish and +Hungarian folk-songs, nocturnes and romances, making the instrument +speak a thousand things of love and laughter, of sorrow and death,-- +till the glorious rush of melody captivated some of the wanderers in +the garden and brought them near the open window to listen. When she +ceased, there was a little outbreak of applause, and Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay rose languidly. + +"Yes, very nice!" she said--"Very nice indeed! But you know, +Maryllia, if you would only get one of those wonderful box things +one sees advertised so much in the papers, the pianista or mutuscope +or gramophone--no, I THINK it's pianola, but I'm not quite sure--you +would save such a lot of study and brain-work for this poor child! +And it sounds quite as well! I'm sure she could manage a gramophone +thing--I mean pianista--pianola--quite nicely for you when you want +any music. Couldn't you, my dear?" + +And she gazed at Cicely with a bland kindliness as she put the +question. Cicely's eyes sparkled with fun and satire. + +"I'm sure I could!" she declared, with the utmost seriousness--"It +would be delightful! Just like organ-grinding, only much more so! I +should enjoy it of all things! Of course one ought NEVER to use the +brain in music!" + +"Not nowadays,"--said Mrs. Courtenay, with conviction--"Things have +improved so much. Mechanism does everything so well. And it is SUCH +a pity to use up one's vital energy in doing what one of those box- +things can do better. And do you too play music?" + +And she addressed herself to Adderley who happened to be standing +near her. He made one of his fantastic salutes. + +"Not I, madam! I am merely a writer,--one who makes rhymes and +verses---" + +Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay waved him away with a hand on which at least +five diamond rings sparkled gorgeously. + +"Oh dear! Don't come near me!" she said, with a little affected +laugh--"I simply HATE poetry! I'm so sorry you write it! I can't +think why you do. Do you like it?--or are you doing it for somebody +because you must?" + +Julian smiled, and ran his fingers through his hair, sticking it up +rather on end, much to Mrs. Courtenay's abhorrence. + +"I like it more than anything else in the world!" he said. "I'm +doing it quite for myself, and for nobody else." + +"Really!"--and Mrs. Courtenay gave him a glance of displeased +surprise--"How dreadful!" Here she turned to Maryllia. "Au revoir, +my dear, for the present! As you won't allow any Bridge, I'm going +to sleep. Then I shall do massage for an hour. May I have tea in my +own room?" + +"Certainly!" said Maryllia. + +"Thanks!" She glided out, with a frou-frou of her silken skirts and +a trail of perfume floating after her. + +The three she left behind her exchanged amused glances. + +"Wonderful woman!" said Adderley,--"And, no doubt, a perfectly happy +one!" + +"Why of course! I don't suppose she has ever shed a tear, lest it +should make a wrinkle!" And Cicely, as she made these remarks, +patted her own thin, sallow cheeks consolingly. "Look at my poor +face and hers! Mine is all lined and puckered with tears and sad +thoughts--SHE hasn't a wrinkle! And I'm fourteen, and she's forty! +Oh dear! Why did I cry so much over all the sorrow and beauty of +life when I was young!" + +"Ah--and why didn't you have a pianista-pianola!" said Adderley. +They all laughed,--and then at Maryllia's suggestion, joined the +rest of the guests in the garden. + +That same evening when Maryllia was dressing for dinner, there came +a tap at her bedroom door, and in response to her 'Come in!' Eva +Beaulyon entered. + +"May I speak to you alone for a minute?" she said. + +Maryllia assented, giving a sign to her maid to leave the room. + +"Well, what is it, Eva?" said Maryllia, when the girl had gone-- +"Anything wrong?" + +Eva Beaulyon sank into a chair somewhat wearily, and her beautiful +violet eyes, despite artistic 'touching up' looked hard and tired. + +"Not so far as I am concerned,"--she said, with a little mirthless +laugh--"Only I think you behaved very oddly this afternoon. Do you +really mean that you object to Bridge on Sundays, or was it only a +put on?" + +"It was a put off!" responded Maryllia, gaily--"It stopped the +intended game! Seriously, Eva, I meant it and I do mean it. There's +too much Bridge everywhere--and I don't think it necessary,--I don't +think it even decent--to keep it going on Sundays." + +"I suppose the parson of your parish has told you that!" said Lady +Beaulyon, suddenly. + +Maryllia's eyes met hers with a smile. + +"The parson of the parish has not presumed to dictate to me on my +actions,"--she said--"I should deeply resent it if he did." + +"Well, he had no eyes for anyone but you in the church this morning. +A mole could have seen that in the dark. He was preaching AT us and +FOR you all the while!" + +A slight flush swept over Maryllia's cheeks,--then she laughed. + +"My dear Eva! I never thought you were imaginative! The parson has +nothing whatever to do with me,--why, this is the first Sunday I +have ever been to his church,--you know I never go to church." + +Lady Beaulyon looked at her narrowly, unconvinced. + +"What have you left your aunt for?" she asked. + +"Simply because she wants me to marry Roxmouth, and I won't!" said +Maryllia, emphatically. + +"Why not?" + +"First, because I don't love him,--second, because he has slandered +me by telling people that I am running after his title, to excuse +himself for running after Aunt Emily's millions; and lastly, but by +no means leastly, because he is--unclean." + +"All men are;" said Eva Beaulyon, drily--"It's no use objecting to +that!" + +Maryllia made no remark. She was standing before her dressing-table, +singing softly to herself, while she dexterously fastened a tiny +diamond arrow in her hair. + +"I suppose you're going to try and 'live good' down here!"--went on +Lady Beaulyon, after a pause--"It's a mistake,--no one born of human +flesh and blood can do it. You can't 'live good' and enjoy +yourself!" + +"No?" said Maryllia, tentatively. + +"No, certainly not! For if you never do anything out of the humdrum +line, and never compromise yourself in any way, Society will be so +furious with your superiority to itself that it will invent a +thousand calumnies and hang them all on your name. And you will +never know how they arise, and never be able to disprove them." + +"Does it matter?"--and Maryllia smiled--"If one's conscience is +clear, need one care what people say?" + +"Conscience!" exclaimed Lady Beaulyon--"What an old-fashioned +expression! Surely it's better to do something people can lay hold +of and talk about, than have them invent something you have never +done! They will give you no credit for virtue or honesty in this +world, Maryllia, unless you grow ugly and deformed. Then perhaps +they will admit you may be good, and they will add--'She has no +temptation to be otherwise.'" + +"I do not like your code of morality, Eva," said Maryllia, quietly. + +"Perhaps not, but it's the only one that works in OUR day!" replied +Eva, with some heat, "Surely you know that?" + +"I try to forget it as much as possible,"--and Maryllia's eyes were +full of a sweet wistfulness as she spoke--"Especially here--in my +father's home!" + +"Oh well!" said Lady Beaulyon, with a touch of impatience--"You are +a strange girl--you always were! You can 'live good,' or try to, if +you like; and stay down here all alone with the doldrums and the +humdrums. But you'll be sick of it in six months. I'm sure you will! +Not a man will come near you,--they hate virtuous women nowadays,-- +and scarce a woman will come either, save old and ugly ones! You +will kill yourself socially altogether by the effort. Life's too +short to lose all the fun out of it for the sake of an ideal or a +theory!" + +Here the gong sounded for dinner. Maryllia turned away from her +dressing-table, and confronted her friend. Her face was grave and +earnest in its expression, and her eyes were very steadfast and +clear. + +"I don't want what you call 'fun,' Eva,"--she said--"I want love! +Love seems to me the only good thing in life. Do you understand? You +ask me why I left my aunt--it was to escape a loveless marriage,--a +marriage that would be a positive hell to me for which neither +wealth nor position could atone. As for 'living good,' I am not +trying that way. I only want to understand myself, and find out my +own possibilities and limitations. And if I never do win the love I +want,--if no one ever cares for me at all, then I shall be perfectly +content to live and die unmarried." + +"What a fate!" laughed Lady Beaulyon, shrugging her white shoulders. + +"A better one than the usual divorce court result of some 'society' +marriages,"--said Maryllia, calmly--"Anyhow, I'd rather risk single +blessedness than united 'cussedness'! Let us go down to dinner, Eva! +On all questions pertaining to 'Souls' and modern social ethics, we +must agree to differ!" + + + + +XX + + +For the next fortnight St. Rest was a scene of constant and unwonted +excitement. There was a continual coming and going, to and from +Abbot's Manor,--some of the guests went away to be replaced by +others, and some who had intended to spend only a week-end and then +depart, stayed on, moved by unaccountable fascination, not only for +their hostess, but for the general pleasantness of the house, and +the old-world, tranquil and beautiful surroundings of the whole +neighbourhood. Lord Charlemont and Mr. Bludlip Courtenay had brought +their newest up-to-date motor-cars with them,--terrible objects to +the villagers whenever they dashed, like escaped waggons off an +express train, through the little street, with their horns blowing +violently as though in a fog at sea. Mrs. Frost was ever on the +alert lest any of her smaller children should get in the way of +these huge rubber-tyred vehicles tearing along at reckless speed,-- +and old Josey Letherbarrow resolutely refused to go outside his +garden gate except on Sundays. + +"Not but what I ain't willin' an' cheerful to die whenever the Lord +A'mighty sends for me;"--he would say--"But I ain't got no fancy for +bein' gashed and jambled." + +'Gashed and jambled,' was his own expression,--one that had both +novelty and suggestiveness. Unfortunately, it happened that a small +pet dog belonging to one of the village schoolboys, no other than +Bob Keeley, the admitted sweet-heart of Kitty Spruce, had been run +over by Mr. Bludlip Courtenay, as that gentleman, driving his car +himself, and staring indifferently through his monocle, had 'timed' +his rush through the village to a minute and a half, on a bet with +Lord Charlemont,--and 'gashed and jambled' was the only description +to apply to the innocent little animal as it lay dead in the dust. +Bob Keeley cried for days,--cried so much, in fact, over what he +considered 'a wicked murder' that his mother sent for 'Passon' to +console him. And Walden, with his usual patience, listened to the +lad's sobbing tale: + +"Which the little beast wor my friend!" he gasped amid his tears-- +"An' he wor Kitty's friend too! Kitty's cryin' 'erself sick, same as +me! I'd 'ad 'im from a pup--Kitty carried 'im in 'er apron when 'e +was a week old,--he loved me--yes 'e did!--an' 'e slept in my weskit +iviry night of 'is life!--an' he 'adn't a fault in 'im, all lovin' +an' true!--an' now 'e's gone--an'--an'-I HATE the quality up at the +Manor--yes I do!--I HATE 'em!--an' if Miss Vancourt 'adn't never +come 'ome, my doggie 'ad been livin' now, an' we'd all a' bin +'appy!" + +Walden patted the boy's rough towzled head gently, and thought of +his faithful 'Nebbie.' It would have been mere hypocrisy to preach +resignation to Bob, when he, the Reverend John, knew perfectly well +that if his own canine comrade had been thus cruelly slain, he also +would have 'hated the quality.' + +"Look here, Bob," he said at last,--"I know just how you feel! It's +just as bad as bad can be. But try and be a man, won't you? You +can't bring the poor little creature back to life again,--and it's +no use frightening your mother with all this grief for what cannot +be helped. Then there's poor Kitty--SHE 'hates the quality';--her +little heart is sore and full of bad feelings--all for the sake of +you and your dog, Bob! She's giving her mother no end of trouble up +at the Manor, crying and fretting--suppose you go and see her? Talk +it over together, like two good children, and try if you can't +comfort each other. What do you say?" + +Bob rose from beside the chair where he had flung himself on his +knees when Walden had entered his mother's cottage,--and rubbed his +knuckles hard into his eyes with a long and dismal sniff. + +"I'll try, sir!" he said chokingly, and then suddenly seizing +'Passon's' hand, he kissed it with boyish fervour, caught up his cap +and ran out. Walden stood for a moment inert,--there was an +uncomfortable tightness in his throat. + +"Poor lad!" he said to himself,--"He is suffering as much in his way +as older people suffer in theirs,--perhaps even more,--because to +the young, injustice always seems strange--to the old it has become +customary and natural!" + +He sighed,--and with a pleasant word or two to Mrs. Keeley, who +waited at her door for him to come out, and who thanked him +profusely for coming to 'hearten up the boy,' he went on his usual +round through the village, uncomfortably conscious that perhaps his +first impressions respecting Miss Vancourt's home-coming were +correct,--and that it might have been better for the peace and +happiness of all the simple inhabitants of St. Rest, if she had +never come. + +Certainly there was no denying that a change had crept over the +little sequestered place,--a change scarcely perceptible, but +nevertheless existent. A vague restlessness pervaded the +atmosphere,--each inhabitant of each cottage was always on the look- +out for a passing glimpse of one of the Abbot's Manor guests, or one +of the Abbot's Manor servants,--it did not matter which, so long as +something or somebody from the Manor came along. Sir Morton Pippitt +had, of course, not failed to take full advantage of any slight +surface or social knowledge he possessed of Miss Vancourt's guests,- +-and had, with his usual bluff pomposity, invited them all over to +Badsworth Hall. Some of them accepted his invitation,--others +declined it. Lord Charlemont and Mr. Bludlip Courtenay discovered +him to be a 'game old boy'--while Lady Wicketts and Miss Fosby found +something congenial in the society of Miss Tabitha Pippitt, who, +cherishing as she did, an antique-virgin passion for the Reverend +John Walden, whom her father detested, had come to regard herself as +a sort of silent martyr to the rough usages of this world, and was +therefore not unwilling to listen to the long stories of life's +disillusions which Lady Wicketts unravelled for her benefit, and +which Miss Fosby, with occasional references to the photographs and +prints of the 'Madonna' or the 'Girl with Lilies' tearfully +confirmed. So the motor-cars continually flashed between Abbot's +Manor and Badsworth Hall, and Lady Beaulyon apparently found so much +to amuse her that she stayed on longer than she had at first +intended. So did Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay. They had their reasons for +prolonging their visit,--reasons more cogent than love of fresh air, +or admiration of pastoral scenery. Both of them kept up an active +correspondence with Maryllia's aunt, Mrs. Fred Vancourt, a lady who +was their 'very dear' friend, owing to her general usefulness in the +matter of money. And Mrs. Fred having a fixed plan in her mind +concerning the welfare and good establishment of her niece, they +were not unwilling to assist her in the furtherance of her views, +knowing that whatever trouble they took would be substantially +rewarded 'under the rose.' + +So they remained, on one excuse or the other,--while other guests +came or went, and took long walks and motor-rides in the +neighbourhood and amused themselves pretty much in their own way, +Maryllia rightly considering that to be the truest form of +hospitality. She herself, however, was living a somewhat restrained +life among them,--and she began to realise more than ever the +difference between 'friends' and 'acquaintances,' and the hopeless +ennui engendered by the proximity of the latter, without the +sympathy of the former. She was learning the lesson that cannot be +too soon mastered by everyone who seeks for pure happiness in this +world--'The Kingdom of God is within you.' In herself she was not +content,--yet she knew no way in which to make herself contented. "I +want something"--she said to herself--"Yet I do not know what I +want." Her pleasantest time during the inroad of her society +friends, was when, after her daily housekeeping consultations with +Mrs. Spruce, she could go and have a chat with Cicely in that young +person's small study, which was set apart for her, next to her +bedroom nearly at the top of the house, and which commanded a wide +view of the Manor park-lands, and the village of St. Rest, with the +silvery river winding through it, and the spire of the church rising +from the surrounding foliage like a finger pointing to heaven. And +she also found relief from the strain of constant entertaining by +rising early in the mornings and riding on her favourite 'Cleopatra' +all over her property, calling on her new agent, Frank Stanways, and +his wife, and chatting with the various persons in her employ. She +did not however go much into the village, and on this point one +morning her agent ventured to observe-- + +"Old Mr. Letherbarrow has been saying that he has not seen you +lately, Miss Vancourt,--not since your friends came down. He seems +to miss you very much." + +Maryllia, swaying lightly in her saddle, stooped over her mare's +neck and patted it, to hide sudden tears that sprang, she knew not +why, to her eyes. + +"Poor Josey!" she said--"I'm sorry! Tell him I'll come as soon as +all my visitors are gone--they will not stay long. The dinner-party +next week concludes everything. Then I shall have time to go about +the village as usual." + +"That will be delightful!" said Alicia Stanways, a bright little +woman, whose introduction and supervision of a 'model dairy' on the +Abbot's Manor estate was the pride of her life--"It really makes all +the people happy to see you! Little Ipsie Frost was actually crying +for you the other day." + +"Was she? Poor little soul! The idea of a child crying for me! It's +quite a novel experience!" And Maryllia laughed--"But I don't think +I'm wanted at all in the village. Mr. Walden does everything." + +"So he does!"--agreed Stanways--"He's a true 'minister' if there +ever was one. Still, he has not been quite so much about lately." + +"No?" queried Maryllia--"I expect he's very busy!" + +"I think he has only one wish in the world!" said Mrs. Stanways, +smiling. + +"What is that?" asked Maryllia, still stroking 'Cleopatra's' glossy +neck thoughtfully. + +"To fill the big rose-window in the church with stained glass,--real +'old' stained glass! He's always having some bits sent to him, and I +believe he passes whole hours piecing it together. It's his great +hobby. He won't have a morsel that is not properly authenticated. +He's dreadfully particular,--but then all old bachelors are!" + +Maryllia smiled, and bidding them good-morning cantered off. She was +curiously touched at the notion of old Josey Letherbarrow missing +her, and 'Baby Hippolyta' crying for her. + +"Not one of my society friends would miss me!"--she said to herself- +-"And certainly I know nobody who would cry for me!" She checked her +thoughts--"Except Cicely. SHE would miss me,--SHE would cry for me! +But, in plain matter-of-fact terms, there is no one else who cares +for me. Only Cicely!" + +She looked up as she rode, and saw that she was passing the 'Five +Sisters,' now in all the glorious panoply of opulent summer leafage. +Moved by a sudden impulse, she galloped up the knoll, and drew rein +exactly at the spot where she had given Oliver Leach his dismissal, +and where she had first met John Walden. The wind rustled softly +through the boughs, which bent and swayed before her, as though the +grand old trees said: 'Thanks to you, we live!' Birds flew from twig +to twig,--and the persistent murmur of many bees working amid the +wild thyme which spread itself in perfumed purple patches among the +moss and grass, sounded like the far-off hum of a human crowd. + +"I did something useful when I saved you, you dear old beeches!" she +said--"But the worst of it is I've done nothing worth doing since!" + +She sighed, and her pretty brows puckered into a perplexed line, as +she slowly guided 'Cleopatra' down the knoll again. + +"It's all so lonely!" she murmured--"I felt just a little dull +before Eva Beaulyon and the others came,--but it's ever so much +duller with them than without them!" + +That afternoon, in compliance with a particularly pressing request +from Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, she accompanied a party of her guests +to Badsworth, driving thither in Lord Charlemont's motor. Sir Morton +Pippitt, red-faced and pompous as usual, met them at the door, in +all the resplendency of new grey summer tweeds and prominent white +waist-coat, his clean-shaven features shining with recent soap, and +his white hair glistening like silver. He was quite in his element, +as he handed out the beautiful Lady Beaulyon from the motor-car, and +expressed his admiration for her looks in no unmeasured terms,--he +felt himself to be almost an actual Badsworth, of Badsworth Hall, as +he patted Lord Charlemont familiarly on the shoulder, and called him +'My dear boy!' As he greeted Maryllia, he smiled at her knowingly. + +"I think I have a friend of yours here to-day, my dear lady!" he +said with an expressive chuckle--"Someone who is most anxious to see +you!" And escorting her with obtrusive gallantry into the hall, he +brought her face to face with a tall, elegant, languid-looking man +who bowed profoundly; "I believe you know Lord Roxmouth?" + +The blood sprang to her brows,--and for a moment she was so startled +and angry that she could scarcely breathe. A swift glance from under +her long lashes showed her the situation--how Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay +was watching her with ill-concealed amusement, and how all the rest +of the party were expectant of a 'sensation.' She saw it all in a +moment,--she recognised that a trap had been laid for her to fall +into unwarily, and realising the position she rose to it at once. + +"How do you do!" she said carelessly, nodding ner head without +giving her hand--"I thought I should meet you this afternoon!" + +"Did you really!" murmured Roxmouth--"Some magnetic current of +thought---" + +"Yes,--'by the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way +comes!'--THAT sort of sensation, you know!" and she laughed; then +perceiving a man standing in the background whose sleek form and +lineaments she instantly recognised, she added--"And how are you, +Mr. Longford? Did you bring Lord Roxmouth here, or did he bring +you?" + +Marius Longford, 'of the Savage and Savile,' was taken by surprise, +and looked a little uncomfortable. He stroked one pussy whisker. + +"We came together," he explained in his affected falsetto voice-- +"Sir Morton Pippitt was good enough to invite me to bring any +friend,--and so--" + +"I see!" and Maryllia lifted her little head with an unconscious +gesture, implying pride, or disdain, or both, as she passed with the +other guests into the Badsworth Hall drawing-room; "The country is +so delightful at this time of year!" + +She moved on. Lord Roxmouth stroked down his fair moustache to hide +a smile, and quietly followed her. He was a good-looking man, tall +and well-built, with a rather pale, clean-cut face, and sandy hair +brushed very smooth; form and respectability were expressed in the +very outline of his figure and the fastidious neatness and nicety of +his clothes. Entering the room where Miss Tabitha Pippitt was +solemnly presiding over the tea-tray with a touch-me-not air of +inflexible propriety, he soon made himself the useful and agreeable +centre of a group of ladies, to whom he carried cake, bread-and- +butter and other light refreshments, with punctilious care, looking +as though his life depended upon the exact performance of these +duties. Once or twice he glanced at Maryllia, and decided that she +appeared younger and prettier than when he had seen her in town. She +was chatting with some of the country people, and Lord Roxmouth +waited for several moments in vain for an opportunity to intervene. +Finally, securing a cup of iced coffee, he carried it to her. + +"No, thanks!" she said, as he approached. + +"Strawberries?" he suggested, appealingly. + +"Nothing, thank you!" + +Smiling a little, he looked at her. + +"I wish you would give me a word, Miss Vancourt! Won't you?" + +"A dozen, if you like!"--she replied, indifferently--"How is Aunt +Emily?" + +"I am glad you ask after her!"--he said, impressively--"She is +well,--but she misses you very much." He paused, and added in a +lower tone--"So do I!" + +She was silent. + +"I know you are angry!" he went on softly--"You went away from +London to avoid me, and you are vexed to see me down here. But I +couldn't resist the temptation of coming. Marius Longford told me he +had called upon you with Sir Morton Pippitt at Abbot's Manor,--and I +got him to bring me down on a visit to Badsworth Hall,--only to be +near you! You are looking quite lovely, Maryllia!" + +She raised her eyes and fixed them full on him. His own fell. + +"I said you were angry, and you are!" he murmured--"But you have the +law in your own hands,--you need not ask me to your house unless you +like!" + +The buzz of conversation in the room was now loud and incessant. Sir +Morton Pippitt's 'afternoon teas' were always more or less +bewildering and brain-jarring entertainments, where a great many +people of various 'sets,' in the town of Riversford and the county +generally, came together, without knowing each other, or wishing to +know each other,--where the wife of the leading doctor in +Riversford, for example, glowered scorn and contempt on Mrs. +Mordaunt Appleby, the wife of the brewer in the same town, and where +those of high and unimpeachable 'family,' like Mrs. Mandeville +Poreham, whose mother was a Beedle, stared frigidly and unseeingly +at every one hailing from the same place as creatures beneath her +notice. + +For--"Thank God!"--said Mrs. Poreham, with feeling,--"I do not live +in Riversford. I would not live in Riversford if I were paid a +fortune to do so! My poor mother never permitted me to associate +with tradespeople. There are no ladies or gentlemen in Riversford,-- +I should be expected to shake hands with my butcher if I resided +there,--but I am proud and glad to say that at present I know nobody +in the place. I never intend to know anybody there!" + +Several curious glances were turned upon Miss Vancourt as she stood +near an open window looking out on the Badsworth Hall 'Italian +Garden,'--a relic of Badsworth times,--her fair head turned away +from the titled aristocrat who bent towards her, as it seemed, in an +attitude of humble appeal,--and one or two would-be wise persons +nodded their heads and whispered--"That's the man she's engaged to." +"Oh, really!---and his name---?" "Lord Roxmouth;--will be Duke of +Ormistoune---" "Good gracious! THAT woman a Duchess!" snorted Mrs. +Mordaunt Appleby, as she heard--"The men must be going mad!" Which +latter remark implied that had she not unfortunately married a +brewer, she might easily have secured the Ormistoune ducal coronet +herself. + +Unaware of the gossip going on around her, Maryllia stayed where she +was at the window, coldly silent, her eyes fixed on the glowing +flower-beds patterned in front of her,--the gorgeous mass of +petunias, and flame-colored geraniums,--the rich saffron and brown +tints of thick clustered calceolarias,--the purple and crimson of +pendulous fuchsias, whose blossoms tumbled one upon the other in a +riot of splendid colour,--and all at once her thoughts strayed +capriciously to the cool green seclusion of John Walden's garden. +She remembered the spray of white lilac he had given her, and +fancied she could almost inhale again its delicious perfume. But the +lilac flowering-time was over now--and the roses had it all their +own way,--she had given a rose in exchange for the lilac, and--Here +she started almost nervously as Lord Roxmouth's voice again fell on +her ears. + +"You are not sparing me any of your attention," he said--"Your mind +is engrossed with something--or somebody--else! Possibly I have a +rival?" + +He smiled, but there was a quick hard gleam of suspicion in his cold +grey eyes. Maryllia gave him a look of supreme disdain. + +"You are insolent," she said, speaking in very low but emphatic +tones--"You always were! You presume too much on Aunt Emily's +encouragement of your attentions to me, which you know are +unwelcome. You are perfectly aware that I left London to escape a +scheme concocted by you and her to so compromise me in the view of +society, that no choice should be left to me save marriage with you. +Now you have followed me here, and I know why! You have come to try +and find out what I do with myself--to spy upon my actions and +occupations, and take back your report to Aunt Emily. You are +perfectly welcome to enter upon this congenial task! You can visit +me at my own house,--you can play detective all over the place, if +you are happy in that particular role. Every opportunity shall be +given you!" + +He bowed. "Thank you!" And stroking his moustache, as was his +constant habit, he smiled again. "You are really very cruel to me, +Maryllia! Why can I never win your confidence--I will not say your +affection? May I not know?" + +"You may!"--she answered coldly--"It is because there is nothing in +you to trust and nothing to value. I have told you this so often +that I wonder you want to be told it again! And though I give you +permission to call on me at my own home,--just to save you the +trouble of telling Aunt Emily that her 'eccentric' niece was too +'peculiar' to admit you there,--I reserve to myself the right at any +moment to shut the door against you." + +She moved from him then, and seeing the Ittlethwaites of +Ittlethwaite Park, went to speak to them. He stood where she had +left him, surveying the garden in front of him with absolute +complacency. Mr. Marius Longford joined him. + +"Well?" said the light of the Savage and Savile tentatively. + +"Well! She is the same ungovernable termagant as ever--conceited +little puss! But she always amuses me--that's one consolation!" He +laughed, and taking out his cigar-case, opened it. "Will you have +one?" Longford accepted the favour. "Who is this old fellow, +Pippitt?" he asked--"Any relation of the dead and gone Badsworth? +How does he get Badsworth Hall? Doesn't he grind bones to make his +bread, or something of that kind?" + +Longford explained with civil obsequiousness that Sir Morton Pippitt +had certainly once 'ground bones,' but that he had 'retired' from +such active service, while still retaining the largest share in the +bone business. That he had bought Badsworth Hall as it stood,-- +pictures, books, furniture and all, for what was to him a mere +trifle; and that he was now assuming to himself by lawful purchase, +the glory of the whole deceased Badsworth family. + +Lord Roxmouth shrugged his shoulders in contempt. + +"Such will be the fate of Roxmouth Castle!" he said--"Some grinder +of bones or maker of beer will purchase it, and perhaps point out +the picture of the founder of the house as being that of a former +pot-boy!" + +"The old order changeth,"--said Longford, with a chill smile--"And I +suppose we should learn to accustom ourselves to it. But you, with +your position and good looks, should be able to prevent any such +possibility as you suggest. Miss Vancourt is not the only woman in +the world." + +"By no means,"--and Roxmouth strolled into the garden, Longford +walking beside him--"But she is the only woman I at present know, +who, if she obeys her aunt's wishes, will have a fortune of several +millions. And just because such a little devil SHOULD be mastered +and MUST be mastered, I have resolved to master her. That's all!" + +"And, to your mind, sufficient,"--said Longford--"But if it is a +question of the millions chiefly, there is always the aunt herself." + +Roxmouth stared--then laughed. + +"The aunt!" he ejaculated--"The aunt?" + +"Why not?" And Longford stole a furtive look round at the man who +was his chief literary patron--"The aunt is handsome, well- +preserved, not more than forty-five at most--and I should say she is +a woman who could be easily led--through vanity." + +"The aunt!" again murmured Roxmouth--"My dear Longford! What an +appalling suggestion! Mrs. Fred as the Duchess of Ormistoune! Forbid +it, Heaven!" + +Then suddenly he laughed aloud. + +"By Jove! It would be too utterly ridiculous! Whatever made you +think of such a thing?" + +"Only the prospect you yourself suggested,"--replied Longford--"That +of seeing a brewer or a bone-melter in possession of Roxmouth +Castle. Surely even Mrs. Fred would be preferable to that!" + +With an impatient exclamation Roxmouth suddenly changed the subject; +but Longford was satisfied that he had sown a seed, which might,-- +time and circumstances permitting,--sprout and grow into a tangible +weed or flower. + +Maryllia meantime had made good her escape from the scene of Sir +Morton Pippitt's 'afternoon-tea' festivity. Gently moving through +the throng with that consummate grace which was her natural +heritage, she consented to be introduced to the 'county' generally, +smiling sweetly upon all, and talking so kindly to the Mandeville +Poreham girls, that she threw them into fluttering ecstasies of +delight, and caused them to declare afterwards to their mother that +Miss Vancourt was the sweetest, dearest, darlingest creature they +had ever met! She stood with patience while Sir Morton Pippitt, +over-excited by the presence of the various 'titled' personages in +his house, guffawed and blustered in her face over the 'little +surprise' he had prepared for her in the unexpected appearance of +Lord Roxmouth; she listened to his "Ha!-ha!-ha! My dear lady! We +know a thing or two! Handsome fellow,--handsome fellow! Think of a +poor old plain Knight when you are a Duchess! Ha! ha! ha! God bless +my soul!"---and without a word in confirmation or denial of his +blatant observations, she managed to slip gradually out of the +drawing-room to the hall and from thence to the carriage drive, +where she found, as she thought she would, Lord Charlemont looking +tenderly into the mechanism of his motor-car, unscrewing this, +peering into that, and generally hanging round the vehicle with a +fatuous lover's enthusiasm. + +"Would you mind taking me back to St. Rest now?" she enquired--"I +have an appointment in the village--you can do the journey in no +time." + +"Delighted!" And Charlemont got his machine into the proper state of +spluttering, gasping eagerness to depart. "Anyone coming with you?" + +"No--nobody knows I am leaving." And Maryllia mounted lightly into +the car. "You can return and fetch the others afterwards. Put me +down at the church, please!" + +In a moment more the car flashed down the drive and out of Badsworth +Hall precincts, and was soon panting and pounding along the country +road at most unlawful speed. As a rule Maryllia hated being in a +motor-car, but on this occasion she was glad of the swift rush +through the air; had the vehicle torn madly down a precipice she +would scarcely have cared, so eager was she to get away from the +hateful vicinity of Lord Roxmouth. She was angry too--angry with +Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, whose hand she recognised in the matter as +having so earnestly begged her to go to Badsworth Hall that +afternoon,--she despised Sir Morton Pippitt for lending himself to +the scheme,--and with all her heart she loathed Mr. Marius Longford +whom she at once saw was Roxmouth's paid tool. The furious rate at +which Lord Charlemont drove his car was a positive joy to her--and +as he was much too busy with his steering gear to speak, she gave +herself up to the smouldering indignation that burned in her soul +while she was, so to speak, carried through space as on a panting +whirlwind. + +"Why can they not leave me alone!" she thought passionately--"How +dare they follow me to my own home!--my own lands!--and spy upon me +in everything I do! It is a positive persecution and more than +that,--it is a wicked design on Aunt Emily's part to compromise me +with Roxmouth. She wants to set people talking down here in the +country just as she set them talking in town, and to make everyone +think I am engaged to him, or OUGHT to be engaged to him. It is +cruel!--I suppose I shall be driven away from here just as I have +been driven from London,--is there NO way in which I can escape from +this man whom I hate!--NO place in the world where he cannot find me +and follow me!" + +The brown hue of thatched roofs through the trees here caused Lord +Charlemont to turn round and address her. + +"Just there!" he said, briefly--"Six minutes exactly!" + +"Good!" said Maryllia, nodding approvingly--"But go slowly through +the village, won't you? There are so many dear little children +always playing about." + +He slackened speed at once, and with a weird toot-tootling of his +horn guided the car on at quite a respectable ambling-donkey pace. + +"You said the church?" + +"Yes, please!" + +Another minute, and she had alighted. + +"Thanks so much!" she said, smiling up into his goggle-guarded eyes. +"Will you rush back for the others, please? And--and--may I ask you +a favour?" + +"A thousand!" he answered, thinking what a pretty little woman she +was, as he spoke. + +"Well--don't--even if they want you to do so,--don't bring Lord +Roxmouth or Mr. Marius Longford back to the Manor. They are Sir +Morton Pippitt's friends and guests--they are not mine!" + +A faint flicker of surprise passed over the aristocratic motor- +driver's features, but he made no observation. He merely said: + +"All right! I'm game!" + +Which brief sentence meant, for Lord Charlemont, that he was loyal +to the death. He was not romantic in the style of expressing +himself,--he would not have understood how to swear fealty on a +drawn sword--but when he said--'I'm game,'-it came to the same +thing. Reversing his car, he sped away, whizzing up the road like a +boomerang, back to Badsworth Hall. Maryllia watched him till he was +out of sight,--then with a sigh of relief, she turned and look +wistfully at the church. Its beautiful architecture had the +appearance of worn ivory in the mellow radiance of the late +afternoon, and the sculptured figures of the Twelve Apostles in +their delicately carved niches, six on either side of the portal, +seemed almost life-like, as the rays of the warm and brilliant +sunshine, tempered by a touch of approaching evening, struck them +aslant as with a luminance from heaven. She lifted the latch of the +churchyard gate,--and walking slowly with bent head between the rows +of little hillocks where, under every soft green quilt of grass lay +someone sleeping, she entered the sacred building. It was quite +empty. There was a scent of myrtle and lilies in the air,--it came +from two clusters of blossoms which were set at either side of the +gold cross on the altar. Stepping softly, and with reverence, +Maryllia went up to the Communion rails, and looked long and +earnestly at the white alabaster sarcophagus which, in its unknown +origin and antiquity, was the one unsolved mystery of St. Rest. A +vague sensation of awe stole upon her,--and she sank involuntarily +on her knees. + +"If I could pray now,"--she thought--"What should I pray for?" + +And then it seemed that something wild and appealing rose in her +heart and clamoured for an utterance which her tongue refused to +give,--her bosom heaved,--her lips trembled,--and suddenly a rush of +tears blinded her eyes. + +"Oh, if I were only LOVED!" she murmured under her breath--"If only +someone could find me worth caring for! I would endure any +suffering, any loss, to win this one priceless gift,--love!" + +A little smothered sob broke from her lips. + +"Father! Mother!" she whispered, instinctively stretching out her +hands--"I am so lonely!--so very, very lonely!" + +Only silence answered her, and the dumb perfume of the altar +flowers. She rose,--and stood a moment trying to control herself,--a +pretty little pitiful figure in her dainty, garden-party frock, a +soft white chiffon hat tied on under her rounded chin with a knot of +pale blue ribbon, and a tiny cobweb of a lace kerchief in her hand +with which she dried her wet eyes. + +"Oh dear!" she sighed--"It's no use crying! It only shows what a +weak little idiot I am! I'm lonely, of course,--I can't expect +anything else; I shall always be lonely--Roxmouth and Aunt Emily +will take care of that. The lies they will tell about me will keep +off every man but the one mean and slanderous fortune-hunter, to +whom lies are second nature. And as I won't marry HIM, I shall be +left to myself--I shall be an old maid. Though that doesn't matter-- +old maids are often the happiest women. Anyhow, I'd rather be an old +maid than Duchess of Ormistoune." + +She dabbed her eyes with the little handkerchief again, and went +slowly out of the church. And as she stepped from the shadow of its +portal into the sunshiny open air, she came face to face with John +Walden. He started back at the sudden sight of her,--then +recollecting himself, raised his hat, looking at her with +questioning eyes. + +"Good afternoon, Mr. Walden!" she said, affecting a sprightly air-- +"Are you quite well?" + +He smiled. + +"Quite. And you? You look---" + +"As if I had been crying, I suppose?"--she suggested. "So I have. +Women often cry." + +"They do,--but---" + +"But why should they?--you would say, being a man,"--and Maryllia +forced a laugh.--"And that's a question difficult to answer! Are you +going into the church?" + +"Not for a service, or on any urgent matter,"--replied John--"I left +a book in the vestry which I want to refer to,--that's all." + +"Fetch it," said Maryllia--"I'll wait for you here." + +He glanced at her--and saw that her lips trembled, and that she was +still on the verge of tears. He hurried off at once, realising that +she wanted a minute or two to recover herself. His heart beat +foolishly fast and uncomfortably,--he wondered what had grieved or +annoyed her. + +"Poor little soul!" he murmured, reflecting on a conversation with +which Julian Adderley had regaled him the previous day, concerning +some of the guests at Abbot's Manor--"Poor, weary, sweet little +soul!" + +While Maryllia, during his brief absence was thinking--"I won't cry, +or he'll take me for a worse fool than I am. He looks so terribly +intellectual--so wise and cool and calm!--and yet I think--I THINK +he was rather pleased to see me!" + +She smoothed her face into a smile,--gave one or two more reproving +taps to her eyelids with her morsel of a kerchief, and was quite +self-possessed when he returned, with a worn copy of the Iliad under +his arm. + +"Is that the book you wanted?" she asked. + +"Yes--" and he showed it to her--"I admit it had no business to be +left in the church." + +She peeped between the covers. + +"Oh, it's all Greek!"--she said--"Do you read Greek?" + +"It is one of the happiest accomplishments I learned at college,"-- +he replied. "I have eased many a heartache by reading Homer in the +original." + +She looked meditative. + +"Now that's very strange!" she murmured--"I should never have +thought that to read Homer in the original Greek would ease a +heartache! How does it do it? Will you teach me?" + +She raised her eyes--how beautiful and blue they were he thought!-- +more beautiful for the mist of weeping that still lingered about +their soft radiance. + +"I will teach you Greek, if you like, with pleasure!"--he said, +smiling a little, though his lips trembled--"But whether it would +cure any heartache of yours I could not promise!" + +"Still, if it cures YOUR heartaches?" she persisted. + +"Mine are of a different character, I think!"--and the smile in his +eyes deepened, as he looked down at her wistfully upturned face,--"I +am getting old,--you are still young. That makes all the difference. +My aches can be soothed by philosophy,--yours could only be charmed +away by--" + +He broke off abruptly. The hot blood rose to his temples, and +retreated again, leaving him very pale. + +She looked at him earnestly. + +"Well!--by what?" + +"I imagine you know, Miss Vancourt! There is only one thing that can +ease the burden of life for a woman, and that is--love!" + +She nodded her fair head sagaciously. + +"Of course! But that is just what I shall never have,--so it's no +use wanting it. I had better learn to read Greek at once, without +delay! When shall I come for my first lesson?" + +She laughed unforcedly now, as she looked up at him. They were +walking side by side out of the churchyard. + +"You are much too busy to learn Greek," he said, laughing with her. +"Your London friends claim all your time,--much to the regret of our +little village." + +"Ah!--but they won't be with me very long now,"--she rejoined-- +"They'll all go after the dinner next week, except Louis Gigue. +Gigue is coming for a day or two and he will perhaps stay on a bit +to give lessons to Cicely. But he's not a society man. Oh, dear no! +Quite the contrary--he's a perfect savage!--and says the most awful +things! Poor old Gigue!" + +She laughed again, and looked happier and brighter than she had done +for days. + +"You have rather spoilt the villagers," went on Walden, as he opened +the churchyard gate for her to pass out, and closed it again behind +them both. "They've got accustomed to seeing you look in upon them +at all hours,--and, of course, they miss you. Little Ipsie Frost +especially frets after you." + +"I'll go and see her very, very soon," said Maryllia, impulsively; +"Dear little thing! When you see her next, tell her I'm coming, +won't you?" + +"I will," he rejoined,--then paused, looking at her earnestly. "Your +friends must find St. Rest a very old-fashioned, world-forgotten +sort of place,"--he continued--"And you must, equally, find it +difficult to amuse them?" + +"Well, perhaps, just a little," she admitted--"The fact is--but tell +it not in Gath--I was happier without them! They bore me to death! +All the same they really mean to be very nice,--they don't care, of +course, for the things I care about,--trees and flowers and books +and music,--but then I am always such an impossible person!" + +"Are you?" His eyes were full of gentleness as he put this question- +-"I should not have thought that!" + +She coloured a little--then changed the subject. + +"You have seen Lady Beaulyon, haven't you?" He bent his head in the +affirmative--"Isn't she lovely?" + +"Not to me," he replied, quietly--"But then I'm no judge." + +She looked at him in surprise. + +"She is considered the most beautiful woman in England!" + +"By whom?", he enquired;--"By the society paragraphists who are paid +for their compliments?" + +Maryllia laughed. + +"Oh, I don't know anything about that!" she said--"I never met a +paragraphist in my life that I know of. But Eva is beautiful--there +is no denying it. And Margaret Bludlip Courtenay is called the +youngest woman in the world!" + +"She looks it!" answered Walden, with great heartiness. "I cannot +imagine Time making any sort of mark upon her. Because--if you don't +mind my saying so--she has really nothing for Time to write upon!" + +His tone was eminently good-natured, and Maryllia glancing at his +smiling face laughed gaily. + +"You are very wicked, Mr. Walden," she said mirthfully--"In fact, +you are a quiz, and you shouldn't be a quiz and a clergyman both +together. Oh, by the way! Why did you stop reading the service when +we all came in late to church that Sunday?" + +He looked full at her. + +"Precisely for that reason. Because you all came in late." + +Maryllia peered timorously at him, with her pretty head on one side, +like an enquiring bird. + +"Do you think it was polite?" + +Walden laughed. + +"I was not studying politeness just then,"--he answered--"I was +exercising my own authority." + +"Oh!" She paused. "Lady Beaulyon and the others did not like it at +all. They thought you were trying to make us ashamed of ourselves." + +"They were right,"--he said, cheerfully--"I was!" + +"Well,--you succeeded,--in a way. But I was angry!" + +He smiled. + +"Were you, really? How dreadful! But you got over it?" + +"Yes,"--she said, meditatively--"I got over it. I suppose you were +right,--and of course we were wrong. But aren't you a very arbitrary +person?" + +His eyes sparkled mirthfully. + +"I believe I am. But I never ask anyone to attend church,--everyone +in the parish is free to do as they like about that. Only if people +do come, I expect them to be punctual,--that's all." + +"I see! And if they're not, you make them feel very small and cheap +about it. People don't like being made small and cheap,--_I_ don't, +for instance. Now good-bye! You are coming to dine next week, +remember!" + +"I remember!" he rejoined, as he raised his hat in farewell. "And do +you think you will learn Greek?" + +"I am sure I will!--as soon as ever all these people are gone. The +week after next I shall be quite free again." + +"And happy?" + +She hesitated. + +"Not quite, perhaps, but as happy as I ever can be! Good-bye!" + +She held out her hand. He pressed it gently, and let her go, +watching her as she moved along the road holding up her dainty skirt +from the dust, and walking with the ease and graceful carriage which +was, to her, second nature. Then he went into his own garden with +the Iliad, and addressing his ever attentive and complaisant dog, +said: + +"Look here, Nebbie--we mustn't think about her! She's a bewildering +little person, with a good deal of the witch glamour in her eyes and +smile,--and it's quite absurd for such staid and humdrum creatures +as you and I, Nebbie, to imagine that we can ever be of the +slightest service to her, or to dream that she ever gives us a +single thought when she has once turned her back upon us. But it is +a pity she should cry about anything!--her eyes were not made for +tears--her life was not created for sorrow! It should be all +sunshine and roses for her--French damask roses, of course!" and he +smiled--"with their hearts full of perfume and their petals full of +colour! As for me, there should only be the grey of her plots of +lavender,--lavender that is dried and put away in a drawer, and more +often than not helps to give fragrance to the poor corpse ready for +burial!" + +He sighed, and opened his Homer. Greek, for once, failed to ease his +heartache, and the Iliad seemed singularly over-strained and deadly +dull. + + + + +XXI + + +That evening before joining her guests at the usual eight o'clock +repast, Maryllia told Cicely Bourne of the disagreeable 'surprise' +which had been treacherously contrived for her at Sir Morton +Pippitt's tea-party by the unexpected presence of the loathed wooer +whom she sought to avoid. + +"Margaret Bludlip Courtenay must certainly have known he was to be +there,"--she said--"And I think, from her look, Eva Beaulyon knew +also. But neither of them gave me a hint. And now if I were to say +anything they would only laugh and declare that they 'thought it +would be fun.' There's no getting any help or sympathy out of such +people. I'm sorry!--but--as usual--I must stand alone." + +"I daresay every one of them was in the plot--men and all, if the +truth were told!"--burst out Cicely, indignantly--"And Mrs. Fred is +at the bottom of the mischief. It's a shame! Your aunt is a brute, +Maryllia! I would say so to her face if she were here! She's a +calculating, selfish, title-grubbing brute! There! What are you +going to do?" + +"Nothing!"--and Maryllia looked thoughtfully out of the window at +the flaming after-glow of the sunset, bathing all the landscape in a +flood of coppery crimson--"I shall just go on as usual. When I go +down to dinner presently, I shall not speak of to-day's incident at +all. Eva Beaulyon and Margaret Courtenay will expect me to speak of +it--and they will be disappointed. If they allude to it, I shall +change the subject. And I shall invite Roxmouth and his tame pussy, +Mr. Marius Longford, to dinner next week, as guests of Sir Morton +Pippitt,--that's all." + +Cicely opened her big dark eyes. + +"You will actually invite Roxmouth?" + +"Of course I will--of course I MUST. I want everyone here to see and +understand how absolutely indifferent I am to him." + +"They will never see--they will NEVER understand!" said Cicely, +shaking her mop of wild hair decisively--"My dear Maryllia, the +colder you are to 'ce cher Roxmouth' the more the world will talk! +They will say you are merely acting a part. "No woman in her senses, +they will swear, would discourage the attentions of a prospective +Duke." + +"They may say what they like,--they may report me OUT of my senses +if they choose!" declared Maryllia, hotly--"I am not a citizeness of +the great American Republic that I should sell myself for a title! I +have suffered quite enough at the hands of this society sneak, +Roxmouth--and I don't intend to suffer any more. His methods are +intolerable. There is not a city on the Continent where he has not +paid the press to put paragraphs announcing my engagement to him-- +and he has done the same thing with every payable paper in London. +Aunt Emily has assisted him in this,--she has even written some of +the announcements herself, sending them to the papers with my +portrait and his, for publication! And because this constantly +rumoured and expected marriage does not come off, and because people +ask WHY it doesn't come off, the pair of conspirators are reduced to +telling lies about me! I almost wish I could get small-pox or some +other hideous ailment and become disfigured,--THEN Roxmouth might +leave me alone! Perhaps Providence will arrange it in that way." + +Cicely uttered an exclamation of horror. + +"Oh, don't say such a thing, Maryllia! It's too dreadful! You are +the prettiest, sweetest creature I ever saw, and I wouldn't have a +scar or a blemish on your dear face for a million Roxmouths! Have +patience! We'll get rid of him!" + +Maryllia gave a hopeless gesture. + +"How?" + +"Well, I don't quite know!" and Cicely knitted her black brows +perplexedly--"But don't worry, Maryllia! I believe it will all come +right. Something will happen to make short work of him,--I'm sure of +it!" + +"You are an optimist,"--said Maryllia, kissing her--"and you're very +young! I have learned that in this best of all possible worlds, +human nature is often the worst part of all creation, and that when +you want to avoid a particularly objectionable human being, that +being is always round the corner. However, if I cannot get rid of +Roxmouth, I shall do something desperate! I shall disappear!" + +"Where to?" asked Cicely, startled. + +"I don't know. Nowhere that you cannot find me!" + +She laughed,--she had recovered her natural buoyancy and light- +heartedness, and when she joined her party at dinner that evening, +she showed no traces of annoyance or fatigue. She made no allusion +to Lord Roxmouth's appearance at Sir Morton Pippitt's, and Mrs. +Bludlip Courtenay, glancing at her somewhat timorously, judged it +best to avoid the subject. For she knew she had played a mean trick +on the friend whose guest she was,--she knew she had in her pocket a +private letter from Mrs. Fred Vancourt, telling her of Lord +Roxmouth's arrival at Badsworth Hall, and urging her to persuade +Maryllia to go there, and to bring about meetings between the two as +frequently as possible,--and as she now and then met the straight +flash of her hostess's honest blue eyes, she felt the hot colour +rising to her face underneath all her rouge, and for once in her +placid daily life of body-massage and self-admiration, she felt +discomposed and embarrassed. The men talked the incident of the day +over among themselves when they were left to their coffee and +cigars, and discussed the probabilities and non-probabilities of +Miss Vancourt becoming the Duchess of Ormistoune, with considerable +zest. + +"She'll never have him--she hates him like poison!"--declared Lord +Charlemont. + +"Not surprised at that,"--said another man--"if she knows anything +about him!" + +"He has gone the pace!" murmured Mr. Bludlip Courtenay thoughtfully, +dropping his monocle out of his eye and hastily putting it back, as +though he feared his eye itself might escape from its socket unless +thus fenced in--"But then, after all--wild oats! Once sown and +reaped, they seldom spring again after marriage." + +"I think you're wrong there!" said Charlemont--"Wild oats are a +singularly perpetual crop. In many cases marriage seems to give them +a fresh start." + +"Will there be a good harvest when YOU marry, Charly?" asked one of +the company, with a laugh. + +"Oh, I shouldn't wonder!" he returned, good-naturedly--"I'm just as +big a fool as any other man. But I always do my best not to play +down on a woman." + +"Woman"--said Mr. Bludlip Courtenay, sententiously--"is a riddle. +Sometimes she wants a vote in elections,--then, if it's offered to +her, she won't have it. Buy her a pearl, and she says she would +rather have had a ruby. Give her a park phaeton, and she declares +she has been dying for a closed brougham. Offer her a five-hundred- +guinea pair of cobs, and she will burst into tears and say she would +have liked a 'little pug-dog--a dear, darling, little Japanese pug- +dog'--she has no use for cobs. And to carry the simile further, give +her a husband, and she straightway wants a lover." + +"That implies that a husband ceases to be a lover,"--said +Charlemont. + +"Well, I guess a husband can't be doing Romeo and 'oh moon'-ing till +he's senile," observed a cadaverous looking man, opposite, who +originally hailed from the States, but who, having purchased an +estate in England, now patriotically sought to forget that he was +ever an American. + +They laughed. + +"'Oh moon'-ing is a good expression,"--said Lord Charlemont--"very +good!" + +"It's mine, sir--but you're welcome to it,"--rejoined the Anglicised +renegade of the Stars and Stripes,--"To 'oh moon' is a verb every +woman likes to have conjugated by a male fool once at least in her +life." + +"Yes--and if you don't 'oh m-moon' with her,"--lisped a young fellow +at the other end of the table--"She considers you a b-b-brute!" + +Again the laugh went round. + +"Well, I don't think Roxmouth will have a chance to go 'oh moon'-ing +with our hostess,"--said Charlemont--"The whole idea of her marriage +with him has been faked up by Mrs. Fred. The girl herself,--Miss +Vancourt,--doesn't want him, and won't have him." + +"Will you take a bet on it?" asked Mr. Bludlip Courtenay. + +"Yes, if you like!" and Charlemont laughed--"I don't bet much, but +I'll bet anything you choose to name on that. Maryllia Vancourt will +never, unless she is bound, gagged and drugged into it, become +Duchess of Ormistoune." + +"Shall we say a tenner?" suggested Courtenay, writing the bet down +in his notebook. + +"Certainly." + +"Good! I take the other side. I know something of Roxmouth,--he's +seldom baffled. Miss Vancourt will be the Duchess before next year!" + +"Not a bit of it! Next year Miss Vancourt will still be Miss +Vancourt!" said Charlemont. emphatically--"She's a woman of +character, and if she doesn't intend to marry Roxmouth, nothing will +make her. She's got a mind of her own,--most women's minds are the +minds of their favourite men." + +"He-he-te-he--te-he--he!" giggled the young man who had before +spoken,--"I know a girl---" + +"Shut up, old chappie! You 'know a bank whereon the wild thyme +grows'--that's what YOU know!" said Charlemont. "Come and have a +look at the motor." + +Whereupon they rose from the table and dispersed. + +From that day, however, a certain additional interest was given to +the house-party entertainment at Abbot's Manor. Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay and Lady Beaulyon fell so neatly into the web which +Maryllia carefully prepared for them, that she soon found out what a +watch they kept upon her, and knew, without further trouble, that +she must from henceforth regard them as spies in her aunt and Lord +Roxmouth's service. The men took no part in this detective business, +but nevertheless were keenly inquisitive in their own line, more +bets being given and taken freely on what was likely to be the +upshot of affairs. Meanwhile, Lord Roxmouth and Mr. Longford, +sometimes accompanied by Sir Morton Pippitt, and sometimes without +him, called often, but Maryllia was always out. She had two watch- +dogs besides her canine friend, Plato,--and these were Cicely and +Julian Adderley. Cicely had pressed the 'moon calf' into her +service, and had told him just as much as she thought proper +concerning Roxmouth and his persecution of her friend and patroness. + +"Go as often as you can to Badsworth Hall,"--she commanded him--"and +find out all their movements there. Then tell ME,--and whenever +Roxmouth comes here to call, Maryllia will be out! Be vigilant and +faithful!" + +And she had shaken her finger at him and rolled her dark eyes with +such tragic intensity, that he had entered zealously into the spirit +of the little social drama, and had become as it were special +reporter of the Roxmouth policy to the opposing party. + +But this was behind the scenes. The visible action of the piece +appeared just now to be entirely with Maryllia and her lordly +wooer,--she as heroine, he as hero,--while the 'supers,' useful in +their way as spies, messengers and general attendants, took their +parts in the various scenes with considerable vivacity, wondering +how much they might possibly get out of it for themselves. If, while +they were guests at Abbot's Manor, an engagement between Lord +Roxmouth and Maryllia Vancourt could be finally settled, they felt +they could all claim a share in having urged the matter on, and +'worked' it. And it was likely that in such a case, Mrs. Fred +Vancourt, with millions at her disposal, would be helpful to them in +their turn, should they ever desire it. Altogether, it seemed a game +worth playing. None of them felt any regret that Maryllia should be +made the pivot round which to work their own schemes of self- +aggrandisement. Besides, no worldly wise society man or woman could +be expected to feel sorry for assisting a young woman to attain the +position of a Duchess. Such an idea would be too manifestly absurd. + +"It will soon be over now,"--said Cicely, consolingly, one afternoon +in the last week of Maryllia's entertaining--"And oh, how glad we +shall be when everybody has gone!" + +"There's one person who won't go, I'm afraid!" said Maryllia. + +"Roxmouth? Well, even HE can't stay at Badsworth Hall for ever!" + +"No,--but he can stay as long as he likes,--long enough to work +mischief. Sir Morton Pippitt won't send him away,--we may be sure of +that!" + +"If HE doesn't go, I suppose WE must?" queried Cicely tentatively. + +Maryllia's eyes grew sad and wistful. + +"I'm afraid so--I don't know--we shall see!"--she replied slowly-- +"Something will have to be settled one way or another--pleasantly or +unpleasantly." + +Cicely's black brows almost met across her nose in a meditative +frown. + +"What a shame it is that you can't be left in peace, Maryllia!"--she +exclaimed--"And all because of your aunt's horrible money! Why +doesn't Roxmouth marry Mrs. Fred?" + +"I wish he would!" said Maryllia, heartily, and then she began to +laugh. "Then it would be a case of 'Oh my prophetic soul! mine +uncle!' And I should be able to say: 'My aunt is a Duchess.' Imagine +the pride and glory of it!" + +Cicely joined in her laughter. + +"It WOULD be funny!" she said--"But whatever happens, I do hope +Roxmouth isn't going to drive us away from the Manor this summer. +You won't let him, will you?" + +Maryllia hesitated a moment. + +"It will depend on circumstances," she said, at last--"If he +persists in staying at Badsworth, I must leave the neighbourhood. +There's no help for it. It would only be for a short time, of +course--and it seems hard, when I have only just come home, as it +were,--but there,--never mind, Cicely! We'll treat it as a game of +hare and hounds,--and we'll baffle the hounds somehow!" + +Cicely gave a comic gesture of resignation to the inevitable. + +"Anyhow, if we want a man to help us,"--she said,--"There's Gigue. +Fortunately he's here now." + +Gigue WAS there--very certainly there, and all there. Louis Gigue, +renowned throughout the world for his culture of the human voice +divine, had arrived the previous day direct from Paris, and had +exploded into the Manor as though he were a human bombshell. He had +entered at the hour of afternoon tea, wild-eyed, wild-haired, +travel-soiled, untidy and eminently good-natured, and had taken +everybody by surprise. He had rushed up to Maryllia, and seizing her +hand had kissed it rapturously,--he had caught Cicely in his arms +and embraced her enthusiastically with a 'Mon enfant prodigue!' and, +tossing his grizzled locks from off his broad forehead, he had +seated himself, sans ceremonie, amidst the company, as though he had +known everyone present all his life. + +"Mon Dieu, ze mal der mer!" he had exclaimed--"Ze bouleversement of +ze vagues! Ze choses terribles! Ze femmes sick!--zen men of ze +coleur blieu! Ah, quel ravissement to be in ze land!" + +Gigue's English was his own particular dialect--he disdained to try +and read a single word of it, but from various sources he had picked +up words which he fitted into his speech as best it suited him, with +a result which was sometimes effective but more often startling. +Maryllia was well accustomed to it, and understood what she called +'Gigue's vernacular'--but the ladies and gentlemen of her house- +party were not so well instructed, and Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay, whose +knowledge of the French language was really quite extraordinary, +immediately essayed the famous singing-master in his own tongue. + +"Esker vous avez un moovais passage, Mo'sieur?" she demanded, with +placid self-assurance--"Le mer etait bien mal?" + +Gigue laughed, showing a row of very white strong teeth under his +grizzled moustache, as he accepted a cup of tea from Cicely's hand, +who gave him a meaning blink of her dark eyes as she demurely waited +upon him. + +"Ah, Madame! Je parle ze Inglis seulement in ze England! Oui, oui! +Je mer etait comme l'huile, mais avec un so-so!" And he swayed his +hands to and fro with a rocking movement--"Et le so-so faisaient les +dames--ah, ciel!--so-so!" + +And he placed his hand delicately to his head, with an inimitable +turning aside gesture that caused a ripple of laughter. Maryllia's +eyes sparkled with fun. She saw Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay surveying +Gigue through her lorgnon with an air of polite criticism amounting +to disdain,--she noted the men hanging back a little in the way that +well-born Britishers do hang back from a foreigner who is 'only' a +teacher of singing, especially if they cannot speak his language,-- +and she began to enjoy herself. She knew that Gigue would say what +he thought or what he wanted to say, reckless of censure, and she +felt the refreshment and relief of having one, at least, in the +group of persons around her, who was not in her Aunt Emily's +service, and who uttered frankly his opinions regardless of results. + +"Et maintenant,"--said Gigue, taking hold of Cicely's arm and +drawing her close up to his knee--"Comment chante le rossignol? Do, +re, mi, fa, sol, la, si, do! Chantez!" + +All the members of the house-party stared,--they had taken scarcely +any notice of Cicely Bourne, looking upon her as more or less +beneath their notice--as a 'child picked up in Paris'--a 'waif and +stray'--a 'fad of Maryllia Vancourt's'--and now here was this wild +grey-haired man of renown bringing her into sudden prominent notice. + +"Chantez!" reiterated Gigue, furrowing his brows into a commanding +frown--"Do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si, do!" + +Cicely's dark eyes flashed--and her lips parted. + +"Do--re--mi--sol---" + +Round and full and clear rang the notes, pure as a crystal bell,-- +and the listeners held their breath, as she made such music of the +common scale as only a divinely-gifted singer can. + +"Bien!--tres-bien!" said Gigue, approvingly, with a smile round at +the company--"Mademoiselle Cicely commence a chanter! Ze petite sera +une grande cantatrice! N'est-ce-pas?" + +A stiffly civil wonderment seemed frozen on the faces of Lady +Beaulyon and the others present. Wholly lacking in enthusiasm for +any art, they almost resented the manner in which Cicely was thus +brought forward as a kind of genius, a being superior to them all. +Gigue sniffed the air, as though he inhaled offence in it. Then he +shook his finger with a kind of defiance. + +"Mais--pas en Angleterre!" he said--"Ze petite va commencer a Milan- +-St. Petersburg--Vienna! Zen, ze Inglis vill say--'Ha ha! Zis prima +donna chante pour les Francais, les Italiens, les Russes!--il faut +qu'elle chante pour nous!' Zen--zey vill pay ze guinea--ces commes +des moutons! Zey follow les autres pays--zey know nosing of ze art +demselves!" + +Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay coughed delicately. + +"Music is so very much overdone in England"--she said, languidly-- +"One gets so tired of it! Concerts are quite endless during the +season, and singers are always pestering you to take tickets. It's +quite too much for anyone who is not a millionaire." + +Gigue did not catch this flow of speech--but Cicely heard it, + +"Well, I shall never ask anyone to 'take tickets' to hear me!" she +said, laughing. "A famous prima donna never does that kind of +thing!" + +"How do you know you will be famous?" asked Lady Beaulyon, amused. + +"Instinct!" replied Cicely, gaily--"Just as the bird knows, it will +be able to make a nest, so do I know I shall be famous! Don't let us +talk any more about singing! Come and see the garden, Gigue!--I'll +take you round it--and I want a chat with you." + +The two went off together, much to the relief of the rest of the +party. + +"What an extraordinary-looking creature!" said Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay--"Is he quite a gentleman, Maryllia?" + +Maryllia smiled. + +"He is a gentleman according to my standard," she said. "He is +honest, true to his friends, and faithful to his work. I ask nothing +more of any man." + +She changed the subject of conversation,--and Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay, in the privacy of her own apartment, confided to her +husband that she really thought Maryllia Vancourt was a little 'off +her head'--just a little. + +"Because, really,"--said Mrs. Courtenay--"when it comes to +harbouring geniuses in one's own house, it is quite beyond all +reason. I sympathise so much with poor Mrs. Fred! If Maryllia would +only marry Lord Roxmouth, all these flighty and fantastic notions of +hers about music and faithful friends and honour and principle would +disappear. I am sure they would!--and she would calm down and be +just like one of us." + +Mr. Bludlip Courtenay stared hard through his monocle. + +"Why don't you talk to her about it?" he said--"You might do more +for Roxmouth than you are doing, Peggy! I may tell you it would mean +good times for both of us if you pushed that affair on!" + +Mrs. Courtenay looked meditative. + +"I'll try!"--she said, at last--"Roxmouth is to dine here to-morrow +night--I'll say something before he comes." + +And she did. She took an opportunity of finding Maryllia alone in +her morning-room, where she was busy answering some letters. Gliding +in, without apology, she sank into the nearest comfortable chair. + +"We shall soon all be gone from this dear darling old house!" she +said, with a sigh--"When are you coming back to London, Maryllia?" + +"Never, I hope,"--Maryllia answered--"I am tired of London,--and if +I go anywhere away from here for a change it will be abroad--ever so +far distant!" + +"With Lord Roxmouth?" suggested Mrs. Courtenay, with a subtle blink +in her eyes. + +Maryllia laid down the pen she held, and looked straight at her. + +"I think you are perfectly aware that I shall never go anywhere with +Lord Roxmouth,"--she said--"Please save yourself the trouble of +discussing this subject! I know how anxious you are upon the point-- +Aunt Emily has, of course, asked you to use your influence to +persuade me into this detestable marriage--now do understand me, +once and for all, that it's no use. I would rather kill myself than +be Lord Roxmouth's wife!" + +"But why--" began Mrs. Courtenay, feebly. + +"Why? Because I know what kind of a man he is, and how +hypocritically he conceals his unnameable vices under a cloak of +respectability. I can tolerate anything but humbug,--remember that!" + +Mrs. Courtenay winced, but stuck to her guns. + +"I'm sure he's no worse than other men!"--she said--"And he's +perfectly devoted to you! It would be much better to be Duchess of +Ormistoune, than a poor lonely old maid looking after geniuses. +Geniuses are perfectly horrible persons! I've had experience with +them. Why, I tried to bring out a violinist once--such a dirty young +man, and he smelt terribly of garlic--he came from the Pyrenees--but +he was quite a marvellous fiddler--and he turned out most +ungratefully, and married my manicurist. Simply shocking! And as for +singers!--my dear Maryllia, you never seem to realise what an utter +little fright that Cicely Bourne of yours is! She will never get on +with a yellow face like that! And SUCH a figure!" + +Maryllia laughed. + +"Well, she's only fourteen---" + +"Nonsense!" declared Mrs. Courtenay--"She tells you that--but she's +twenty, if she's a day! She's 'doing' you, all round, and so is that +artful old creature Gigue! Taking your money all for nothing!--you +may be sure the two of them are in a perfect conspiracy to rob you! +I can't imagine why you should go out of your way to pick up such +people--really I can't--when you might marry into one of the best +positions in England!" + +Maryllia was silent. After a pause, she said gently: + +"Is there anything else you want to tell me? I'm rather pressed for +time,--I have one or two letters to write---" + +"Oh, I see you want to get rid of me," and Mrs. Courtenay rose from +her chair with a bounce--"You have become so rude lately, Maryllia,- +-you really have! Your aunt is quite right! But I'm glad you have +asked Roxmouth to dine to-night--that is at least one step in the +right direction! I'm sure if you will let him say a few words to you +alone---" + +Maryllia lifted her eyes. + +"I have already asked you to drop this subject," she said. + +"Well!--if you persist in your obstinacy, you can only blame +yourself for losing a good chance,"--said Mrs. Courtenay, with real +irritation--"You won't see it, of course, but you're getting very +passee, Maryllia--and it's only an old friend of your aunt's like +myself that can tell you so. I have noticed several wrinkles round +your eyes--you should massage with some 'creme ivoire' and tap those +lines--you really should--tap on to them so---" and Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay illustrated her instructions delicately on her own pink- +and-white dolly face with her finger-tips--"I spend quite an hour +every day tapping every line away round my eyes--but you've really +got more than I have---" + +"I'm not so young as you are, perhaps!" said Maryllia, with a little +smile--"But I don't care a bit how I look! If I'm getting old, so is +everyone--it's no crime. If we live, we must also die. People who +sneer at age are likely to be sneered at themselves when their time +comes. And if I'm growing wrinkles, I'd rather have country ones +than town ones. See?" + +"Dear me, what odd things you do say!" and Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay +shook out her skirts and glanced over her shoulder at her own +reflection in a convenient mirror--"You seem to be quite impossible +at times---" + +"Yes,--Aunt Emily always said so!"--interposed Maryllia, quietly. + +"And yet think of the advantages you have had!--the education--the +long course of travel!--you should really know the world by this +time better than you do?"--went on the irrepressible lady--"You +should surely be able to see that there is nothing so good for a +woman as a good marriage. Everything in a girl's life points to that +end--she is trained for it, dressed for it, brought up to it--and +yet here you are with a most brilliant position waiting for you to +step into it, and you turn your back upon it with contempt! What do +you imagine you can do with yourself down here all alone? There are +no people of your own class residing nearer to you than three or +four miles distant--the village is composed of vulgar rustics--the +rural town is inhabited only by tradespeople, and though one of your +near neighbours is Sir Morton Pippitt, one would hardly call him a +real gentleman--so there's really nobody at all for YOU to associate +with. Now is there?" + +Maryllia glanced up, her eyes sparkling. + +"You forget the parson!" she said. + +"Oh, the parson!" And Mrs. Courtenay tittered. "Well, you're the +last woman in the world to associate with a parson! You're not a bit +religious!" + +"No," said Maryllia--"I'm afraid I'm not!" + +"And you couldn't do district visiting and soup kitchens and +mothers' meetings"--put in Mrs. Courtenay--"It would be too sordid +and dull for words. In fact, you wil simply die of ennui down here +when the summer is over. Now, if you married Roxmouth---" + +"There would be a gall-moon, instead of a honey one," said Maryllia, +calmly,--"But there won't be either. I MUST finish my letters! Do +you mind leaving me to myself?" + +Mrs. Courtenay tossed her head, bit her lip, and rustled out of the +room in a huff. She reported her ill-success with 'Maryllia Van' to +her husband, who, in his turn, reported it to Lord Roxmouth, who +straightway conveyed these and all other items of the progress or +retrogression of his wooing to Mrs. Fred Vancourt. That lady, +however, felt so perfectly confident that Roxmouth would,--with the +romantic surroundings of the Manor, and the exceptional +opportunities afforded by long afternoons and moonlit evenings,-- +succeed where he had hitherto failed, that she almost selected +Maryllia's bridal gown, and went so far as to study the most +elaborate designs for wedding-cakes of a millionaire description. + +"For,"--said she, with comfortable self-assurance--"St. Rest, as I +remember it, is just the dullest place I ever heard of, except +heaven! There are no men in it except dreadful hunting, drinking +provincial creatures who ride or play golf all day, and go to sleep +after dinner. That kind of thing will never suit Maryllia. She will +contrast Roxmouth with the rural boors, and as a mere matter of good +taste, she will acknowledge his superiority. And she will do as I +wish in the long run,--she will be Duchess of Ormistoune." + + + + +XXII + + +The long lazy afternoons of July, full of strong heat and the +intense perfume of field-flowers, had never seemed so long and lazy +to John Walden as during this particular summer. He felt as if he +had nothing in the world to do,--nothing to fill up his life and +make it worth living. All his occupations seemed to him very +humdrum,--his garden, now ablaze with splendid bloom and colour, +looked tawdry, he thought; it had been much prettier in spring-time +when the lilac was in blossom. There was not much pleasure in +punting,--the river was too glassy and glaring in the sun,--the +water dripped greasily from the pole like warm oil--besides, why go +punting when there was nobody but one's self to punt? Whether it was +his own idle fancy, or a fact, he imagined that the village of St. +Rest and its villagers had, in some mysterious way, become separated +from him. Everybody in the place, or nearly everybody, had something +to do for Miss Vancourt, or else for one or other of Miss Vancourt's +guests. Everything went 'up to the Manor '--or came 'down from the +Manor'--the village tradespeople were all catering for the Manor-- +and Mr. Netlips, the grocer, driving himself solemnly ever to +Riversford one day, came back with a board--'a banner with a strange +device'--painted in blue letters on a white ground, which said: + +PETROL STORED HERE. + +This startling announcement became a marvel and a fascination to the +eyes of the villagers, every one of them coming out of their houses +to look at it, directly it was displayed. + +"You'll be settin' the 'ouse on fire, Mr. Netlips, I'm afraid," said +Mrs. Frost, severely, putting her arms akimbo, and sniffing at the +board as though she could smell the spirit it proclaimed--"You don't +know nothink about petrol! An' we ain't goin' to have motor-cars +often 'ere, please the Lord's goodness!" + +Mr. Netlips smiled a superior smile. + +"My good woman,"--he said, with his most magisterial air--"if you +will kindly manage your own business, which is that of pruning the +olive and uprooting the vine, and leave me to manage my +establishment as the reversible movement of the age requires, it +will be better for the equanimity of the gastritis." + +"Good Lord!" and Mrs. Frost threw up her hands--"You're a fine sort +of man for a grocer, with your reversibles and your gastritis! What +in the world are you talking about?" + +Mr. Netlips, busy with the unpacking of a special Stilton cheese +which he was about to send 'up to the Manor,' waved her away with +one hand. + +"I am talking above your head altogther, Mrs. Frost,"--he said, +placidly--"I know it! I am aware that my consonances do not +tympanise on your brain. Good afternoon!" + +"Petrol Stored Here!"--said Bainton, standing squat before the +announcement, as he returned from his day's work--"Hor-hor-hor! Hor- +hor! I say, Mr. Netlips, don't blow us all into the middle of next +week. Where does ye store it? Out in the coal-shed? It's awful +'spensive, ain't it?" + +"It is costly,"--admitted Mr. Netlips, with a grandiose manner, +implying that even if it had cost millions he would have been equal +to 'stocking' it--"But the traveling aristocrat does not interrogate +the lucrative matter." + +"Don't he?" and Bainton scratched his head ruminatively. "I s'pose +you knows what you means, Mr. Netlips, an' you gen'ally means a lot. +Howsomever, I thought you was dead set against aristocrats anyway-- +your pol'tics was for what you call masses,--not classes, nor asses +neither. Them was your sentiments not long ago, worn't they?" + +Mr. Netlips drew himself up with an air of offended dignity. + +"You forestall me wrong, Thomas Bainton,"--he said--"And I prefer +not to amplify the conference. A sentiment is no part of a political +propinquity." + +With that, he retired into the recesses of his 'general store,' +leaving Bainton chuckling to himself, with a broad grin on his +weatherbeaten countenance. + +The 'Petol' board displayed on the front of Mr. Netlips' shop, +however, was just one of those slight indications which showed the +vague change that had crept over the erstwhile tranquil atmosphere +of St. Rest. Among other signs and tokens of internal disquiet was +the increasing pomposity of the village post-mistress, Mrs. Tapple. +Mrs. Tapple had grown so accustomed to various titles and prefixes +of rank among the different guests who came in turn to stay at the +Manor, that whereas she had at one time stood in respectful awe of +old Pippitt because he was a 'Sir,' she now regarded him almost with +contempt. What was a 'Sir' to a 'Lord'? Nothing!--less than nothing! +For during one week she had sold stamps to a real live Marquis and +post-cards to a 'Right Honourable,' besides despatching numerous +telegrams for the Countess of Beaulyon. By all the gods and little +fishes, Sir Morton Pippitt had sunk low indeed!--for when Mrs. +Tapple, bridling with scorn, said she 'wondered 'ow a man like 'im +wot only made his money in bone-boilin' would dare to be seen with +Miss Vancourt's real quality' it was felt that she was expressing an +almost national sentiment. + +Taking everything into consideration, it was not to be denied that +the new element infused into the little village community had +brought with it a certain stir and excitement, but also a sense of +discontent. And John Walden, keenly alive to every touch of feeling, +was more conscious of the change than many another man would have +been who was not endowed with so quick and responsive a nature. He +noted the quaint self-importance of Mrs. Tapple with a kindly +amusement, not altogether unmixed with pain,--he watched regretfully +the attempts made by the young girls of his little parish to trick +themselves out with cheap finery imported from the town of +Riversford, in order to imitate in some fashion, no matter how far +distant, the attire of Lady Beaulyon, whose dresses were a wonder, +and whose creditors were legion,--and he was sincerely sorry to see +that even gentle and pretty Susie Prescott had taken to a new mode +of doing her hair, which, though elaborate, did not suit her at all, +and gave an almost bold look to an otherwise sweet and maidenly +countenance. + +"But I am old,--and old-fashioned too!"--he said to himself, +resignedly--"The world must move on--and as it moves it is bound to +leave old times behind it--and me with them. I must not complain-- +nor should I, even in my own heart, find too many reproaches for the +ways of the young." + +And involuntarily he recalled Tennyson's lines:-- + + "Only 'dust to dust' for me that sicken at your lawless din,-- + Dust in wholesome old-world dust before the newer world begin!" + +"'Wholesome old-world dust'!" he mused--"Yes! I think it WAS more +wholesome than our too heavily manured soil!" + +And a wave of pained regret and yearning arose in him for the days +when life was taken more quietly, more earnestly, more soberly--with +the trust and love of God inspiring the soul to purity and peace-- +when to find a woman who was at the same time an atheist was a thing +so abnormal and repulsive as to excite the utmost horror in society. +Society! why, now, many women in society were atheists, and made no +secret of their shame! + +"I must not dwell on these thoughts,"--he said, resolutely. "The +sooner I see Brent, the better. I've accepted his invitation for the +last week of this month--I can be spared then for two or three days- +-indeed, I doubt whether I shall even be missed! The people only +want me on Sundays now--and--though I do try not to notice it,--a +good many of the congregation are absent from their usual places." + +He sighed. He would not admit to himself that it was Maryllia +Vancourt--'Maryllia Van'--or rather her guests who had exercised a +maleficent influence on his little cure of souls, and that because +the 'quality' did not go to church on Sundays, then some of the +villagers,--like serfs under the sway of nobles,--stayed away also. +He realised that he had given offence to this same 'quality,' by +pausing in his reading, when they entered late on the one occasion +they did attend divine service,--but he did not care at all for +that. He knew, that the truth of the mischief wrought by the idle, +unthinking upper classes of society, is always precisely what the +upper classes do not want to hear;--and he was perfectly aware in +his own mind that his short, but explicit sermon, on the 'Soul,' had +not been welcome to any one of his aristocratic hearers, while it +had been a little over the heads of his own parishioners. + +"Mere waste of words!" he mused, with a kind of self-reproach--"I +don't know why I chose the text or subject at all. Yes--yes!--I do +know! Why do I play the deceiver with myself! She was there--so +winsome--so pretty!--and her soul is sweet and pure;--it must be +sweet and pure, if it can look out of such clear windows as her +eyes. Let all the world go, but keep that soul, I thought!--and so I +spoke as I did. But I think she scarcely listened--it was all waste +of time, waste of words,--waste of breath! I shall be glad to see +dear old Brent again. He wants to talk to me, he says--and I most +certainly want to talk to him. After the dinner-party at the Manor, +I shall be free. How I dread that party! How I wish I were not +going! But I have promised her--and I must not break my word!" + +He began to think about one or two matters that to him were not +altogether pleasing. Chief among these was the fact that Sir Morton +Pippitt had driven over twice now 'to inspect the church'-- +accompanied by Lord Roxmouth, and the Reverend 'Putty' Leveson. Once +Lord Roxmouth had left his card at the rectory, and had written on +it: 'Wishing to have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Walden'--a pleasure +which had not, so far, been gratified. Walden understood that Lord +Roxmouth was, or intended to be, the future husband of Miss +Vancourt. He had learned something of it from Bishop Brent's letter- +-but now that his lordship was staying as a guest at Badsworth Hall, +rumour had spread the statement so very generally that it was an +almost accepted fact. Three days had been sufficient to set the +village and county talking;--Roxmouth and his tools never did their +mischievous work by halves. John Walden accepted the report as +others accepted it--only reserving to himself an occasion to ask +Miss Vancourt if it were indeed true. Meantime, he kept himself +apart from the visitors--he had no wish to meet Lord Roxmouth-- +though he knew that a meeting was inevitable at the forthcoming +dinner-party at Abbot's Manor. Bainton had that dinner-party on his +mind as well as his master. He had heard enough of it on all sides. +Mrs. Spruce had gabbled of it, saying that 'what with jellies an' +ices an' all the things as has to be thought of an' got in ready,' +she was 'fair mazed an' moithered.' And she held forth on the +subject to one of her favourite cronies, Mrs. Keeley, whose son Bob +was still in a state of silent and resentful aggressiveness against +the 'quality' for the death of his pet dog. + +"It's somethin' too terrible, I do assure you!" she said--"the way +these ladies and gentlemen from Lunnon eats fit to bust themselves! +When they fust came down, I sez to cook, I sez--'Lord bless 'em, +they must 'ave all starved in their own 'omes'--an' she laughed--she +'avin 'sperience, an' cooked for 'ouse-parties ever since she +learned makin' may'nases [mayonnaise] which she sez was when she was +twenty, an' she's a round sixty now, an' she sez, 'Lor, no! It do +frighten one at first wot they can put into their stummicks, Missis +Spruce, but don't you worry--you just get the things, and they'll +know how to swaller 'em.' Well now, Missis Keeley, if you'll b'lieve +me"--and here Mrs. Spruce drew a long breath and began to count on +her fingers--"This is 'ow we do every night for the visitors, makin' +ready for hextras, in case any gentleman comes along in a motor +which isn't expected--fust we 'as horduffs---" + +"Save us!" exclaimed Mrs. Keeley--"What's they?" + +"Well _I_ calls 'em kickshaws, but the right name is horduffs, +Primmins sez, bein' a butler he should know the French, an' 'tis a +French word, an' it's nothin' but little dishes 'anded round, olives +an' anchovies, an' sardines an' messes of every kind, enough to make +ye sick to look at 'em--they swallers 'em, an' then we sends in +soup--two kinds, white an' clear. They swallers THAT, an' the fish +goes in--two kinds--the old Squire never had but one--THAT goes +down, an' then comes the hentreys. Them's sometimes two--sometimes +four--it just depends on the number we 'as at table. They'se all got +French names--there's nothing plain English about them. But they'se +only bits o' meat an' fowl, done up in different ways with sauces +an' vegetables, an' the quality eats 'em up as though they was two +bites of an apple. Then we sends in the roast and b'iled--and they +takes good cuts off both--then there's game,--now that's nearly +allus all eat up, for I like to pick a bone now and then myself if +it comes down on a dish an' no one else wants it--but there's never +a morsel left for me, I do assure you! Then comes puddings an' +sweets--then cheese savouries--then ices--an' then coffee--an' all +the time the wine's a-goin', Primmins sez, every sort, claret, 'ock, +chably, champagne,--an' the Lord alone He knows wot their poor +insides feels like when 'tis all a-mixin' up together an' workin' +round arterwards. But, as I sez, 'tain't no business o' mine if the +fash'nables 'as trained their stummicks to be like the ostriches +which eats, as I'm told, 'ard iron nails with a relish, I onny know +I should 'a' bin dead an' done with long ago if I put a quarter of +the stuff into me which they puts into theirselves, while some of +the gentlemen drinks enough whiskey an' soda to drown 'em if 'twas +all put in a tub at once---" + +"But Miss Vancourt," interrupted Mrs. Keeley, who had been listening +to her friend's flow of language in silent wonder,--"She don't eat +an' drink like that, do she?" + +"Miss Maryllia, bless 'er 'art, sits at her table like a little +queen,"--said Mrs. Spruce, with emotion--"Primmins sez she don't eat +scarce nothin', and don't say much neither. She just smiles pretty, +an' puts in a word or two, an' then seems lookin' away as if she saw +somethink beautiful which nobody else can see. An' that Miss Cicely +Bourne, she's just a pickle!--'ow she do play the comic, to be +sure!--she ran into the still-room the other day an' danced round +like a mad thing, an' took off all the ladies with their airs an' +graces till I nearly died o' larfin'! She's a good little thing, +though, takin' 'er all round, though a bit odd in 'er way, but that +comes of bein' in France an' learnin' music, I expect. But I really +must be goin'--there's heaps an' heaps to do, but by an' by we'll +have peace an' quiet again--they're all a-goin' next week." + +"Well, I shan't be sorry!"--and Mrs. Keeley gave a short sigh of +satisfaction--"I'm fair sick o' seein' them motor-cars whizzin' +through the village makin' such a dust an' smell as never was,--an' +I'm sure there's no love lost 'tweens Missis Frost an' me, but it do +make me worrited like when that there little Ipsie goes runnin' out, +not knowin' whether she mayn't be run over like my Bob's pet dog. +For the quality don't seem to care for no one 'cept theirselves--an' +it ain't peaceful like nor safe as 'twas 'fore they came. An' I +s'pose we'll be seein' Miss Maryllia married next?" + +Mrs. Spruce pursed up her mouth tightly and looked unutterable +things. + +"'Tain't no good countin' chickens 'fore they're hatched, Missis +Keeley!" she said--"An' the Lord sometimes fixes up marriages in +quite a different way to what we expects. There ain't goin' to be no +weddin's nor buryin's yet in the Manor, please the A'mighty +goodness, for one's as mis'able as t'other, an' both means change, +which sometimes is good for the 'elth but most often contrariwise, +though whatever 'appens either way we must bend our 'eads under the +rod to both. But I mustn't stay chitterin' 'ere any longer--good day +t'ye!" + +And nodding darkly as one who could say much an' she would, the +worthy woman ambled away. + +Scraps of information, such as this talk of Mrs. Spruce's, reached +Bainton's ears from time to time in a disjointed and desultory +manner and moved him to profound cogitation. He was not quite sure +now whether, after all, his liking for Miss Vancourt had not been +greatly misplaced. + +"When I seed her first,"--he said to himself, pathetically, while +hoeing the weeds out of the paths in the rectory garden, "When me +an' old Josey went up to get 'er to save the Five Sisters, she +seemed as sweet as 'oney,--an' she's done many a kind thing for the +village since. But I don't care for 'er friends. They've changed her +like--they've made her forget all about us! An' as for Passon, she +don't come nigh 'im no more, an' he don't go nigh 'er. Seems to me +'tis all a muddle an' a racket since the motor-cars went bouncin' +about an' smellin' like p'ison--'tain't wot it used to be. +Howsomever, let's 'ope to the Lord it'll soon be over. If wot they +all sez is true, there'll be a weddin' 'ere soon, Passon'll marry +Miss Vancourt to the future Dook, an' away they'll go, an' Abbot's +Manor'll be shut up again as it used to afore. An' the onny change +we'll 'ave will be Mr. Stanways for agent 'stead of Oliver Leach-- +which is a blessin'--for Stanways is a decent, kindly man, an' +Oliver Leach--well now!" And he paused in his hoeing, fixing his +round eyes meditatively on a wall where figs were ripening in the +sun--"Blest if I can make out Oliver Leach! One day he's with old +Putty Leveson--another he's drunk as a lord in the gutter--an' +another he's butterfly huntin' with a net, lookin' like a fool--but +allus about the place--allus about--an' he's got a face that a kid +would scream at seein' it in the dark. I wish he'd find another +situation in a fur-off neighbourhood!" + +Here, looking towards the lawn, he saw his master walking slowly up +and down on the grass in front of his study window, with head bent +and hands loosely clasped behind his back, apparently lost in +thought. + +"Passon ain't hisself,--seems all gone to pieces like," he mused-- +"He don't do nothin' in the garden,--he ain't a bit partikler or +fidgetty--an all he cares about is the bits o' glass which comes on +approval from all parts o' the world for the rose window. I sez to +him t'other day--'Ain't ye got enough old glass yet, Passon?'--and +he sez all absent-minded like, 'No, Bainton--not yet! There are many +difficulties to be conquered--one must have patience. It's almost +like piecing a life together,' sez he--'one portion is good--another +bad--one's got the true colour--the other's false--and so on--it's +hard work to get all the little bits of love an' charity an' +kindness to fit into their proper places. Don't you understand?' +'No, Passon,' sez I, 'I can't say as I do!' Then he laughed, but sad +like--an' went away with his 'ead down as he's got it now. +Something's wrong with him--an' it's all since Miss Vancourt came. +She's a real worry to 'im I 'spect,--an' it's true enough the place +ain't like what it was a month ago. Yet there's no denyin' she's a +sweet little lady for all one can say!" + +Bainton's sentiments were a fair reflection of the general village +opinion, though in the town of Riversford the tide of feeling ran +high, and controversy raged furiously, over the ways and doings of +Miss Vancourt and her society friends. A certain vague awe stole +over the gossips, however, when they heard that, whether rapid or +non-rapid, 'Maryllia Van,' as Sir Morton Pippitt persisted in +calling her, was likely to be the future Duchess of Ormistoune. Lord +Roxmouth had been seen in Riversford just once, and many shop-girls +had declared him 'so distinguished looking!' Mordaunt Appleby, the +brewer, had thrown out sundry hints to Sir Morton Pippitt that he +'should be pleased to see his lordship at Appleby House'--Appleby +House being the name of his, the brewer's, residence--but somehow +his lordship had not yet availed himself of the invitation. +Sufficient, however, was altogether done and said by all concerned +to weave a web of worry round Maryllia,--and to cause her to +heartily regret that she had ever asked any of her London +acquaintances down to her house. + +"I did it as a kind of instruction to myself,--a lesson and a test," +she said--"But I had far better have run the risk of being called an +old maid and a recluse than have got these people round me,--all of +whom I thought were my friends,--but who have been more or less +tampered with by Aunt Emily and Roxmouth, and pressed in to help +carry on the old scheme against me of a detestable alliance with a +man I hate. Well!--I have learned the falsity of their protestations +of liking and admiration and affection for me,--and I'm sorry for +it! I should like to believe in the honesty of at least a few +persons in the world--if that were possible!--I don't want to have +myself always 'on guard' against intrigue and humbug!" + +Everyone present, however, on the night of the last dinner-party she +gave to her London guests, was bound to admit that a sweeter, fairer +creature than its present mistress never trod the old oaken floors +of Abbot's Manor; and that even the radiant pictured beauty of 'Mary +Elia Adelgisa de Vaignecourt,' to whom no doubt many a time the +Merry Monarch had doffed his plumed hat in salutation, paled and +grew dim before the living rose of Maryllia's dainty loveliness and +the magnetic tenderness of Maryllia's eyes. Something of the +exquisite pensiveness of her mother's countenance, as portrayed in +the long hidden picture which was now one of the gems of the Manor +gallery, seemed to soften the outline of her features, and deepen +the character and play of the varying expression which made her so +fascinating to those who look for the soul in a woman's face, rather +than its mere physical form. Lady Beaulyon, beautiful though she +was, owed something to art; but Maryllia was nature's own untouched +product, and everything about her exhaled freshness, sweetness, and +radiant vitality. Roxmouth, entering 'most carefully upon his hour,' +namely at a quarter to eight o'clock, found her singularly +attractive,--more so, he thought, than he had ever before realised. +The stately old-world setting of Abbot's Manor suited her--the dark +oak panelling,--the Flemish tapestries, the worn shields and +scutcheons, the old banners and armorial bearings,--all the numerous +touches of the past which spoke of chivalry, ancestral pride and +loyalty to great traditions, lent grace and colouring to the picture +she herself made, as she received her guests with that sweet +kindness, ease and distinction, which are the heritage of race and +breeding. + +"Pretty little shrew!" he said, in an aside to Marius Longford--"She +is really charming,--and I begin to think I want her as much for +herself as for her aunt's millions!" + +Longford smiled obsequiously. + +"There is a certain air of originality, or shall we say +individuality, about the lady,"--he observed, with a critical, not +to say insolent stare in Maryllia's direction,--"The French term +'beaute du diable' expresses it best. But whether the charm will +last, is another question." + +"No woman's beauty lasts more than a few years,"--said Roxmouth, as +he glanced at the various guests who had entered or were entering. +"Lady Beaulyon wears well--but she is forty years old, and begins to +show it. Margaret Bludlip Courtenay must be fifty, and she doesn't +show it--she manages her Paris cosmetics wonderfully. Some of these +county ladies would be better for a little touch of her art! But +Maryllia Vancourt needs no paint,--she can afford to be natural. Is +that the parson?" + +Walden was just entering the room, and Longford put up his glasses. + +"Yes,"--he replied--"That is the parson. He is not without +character." + +Roxmouth became suddenly interested. He saw Walden go up to his +hostess and bow--he also saw the sudden smile that brightened +Maryllia's face as she welcomed her clerical guest,--the one +Churchman of the party. + +"Rather a distinguished looking fellow,"--he commented carelessly-- +"Is he clever?" + +Longford hesitated. He had been pulverised in one of the literary +weeklies by an article on the authenticity of Shakespeare's plays, +signed boldly 'John Walden'--and he had learned, by cautious +enquiries here and there in London, that though, for the most part, +extremely unassuming, the aforesaid John Walden was considered an +authority in matters of historical and antiquarian research. But he +was naturally anxious that the future Duke of Ormistoune, when he +had secured Mrs. Fred Vancourt's millions, should not expend his +powerful patronage to a country clergyman who might, from a 'Savage +and Savile' point of view, be considered an interloper. So he +replied with caution: + +"I believe he dabbles a little in literary and archaeological +pursuits,--many parsons do. As an archaeologist, he certainly has +merit. You entertain a favourable opinion of the church, he has +restored?" + +"The church, as I have before told you, is perfect,"--replied +Roxmouth--"And the man who carried out such a design must needs be +an interesting personality. I think Miss Vancourt finds him so!" + +His cold grey eyes lightened unpleasantly as he made this remark, +and Marius Longford, quick to discern every shade of tone in a +voice, recognised a touch of satire in the seemingly casual words. +He made no observation, however, but kept his lynx eyes and ears +open, watching and listening for anything that might perchance be of +use in furthering his patron's desires and aims. + +Walden, meanwhile, had, quite unconsciously to himself, created a +little sensation by his appearance. HE was the parson who had dared +to stop in his reading of the service because the Manor house-party +had entered the church a quarter of an hour behind time,--HE was the +man who had told them that it was no use gaining the whole world if +they lost their own souls,--as if, in this advanced era of progress, +any one of them had souls to lose! Preposterous! Here he was, this +country cleric, who, as he was introduced by his hostess to the +various gentlemen standing immediately about her, smiled urbanely, +bowed ceremoniously, and comported himself with an air of +intellectual composure and dignity that had a magnetic effect upon +all. Yet in himself he was singularly ill at ease. Various emotions +in his mind contended together to make him so. To begin with, he +disliked social 'functions' of all kinds, and particularly those at +which any noted persons of the so-called 'Smart Set' were present. +He disliked women who made capital out of their beauty, by allowing +their photographs to be on sale in shop-windows and to appear +constantly in cheap pictorials, and of these Lady Beaulyon was a +notorious example, to say nothing of the graver sins against +morality and principle for which she was renowned. He had no +sympathy with sporting or betting men--and he knew by repute that +Lord Charlemont and Bludlip Courtenay were of this class. Then +again, deep down in his own soul, he resented the fact that Maryllia +Vancourt entertained this sort of people as her guests. She was much +too good for them, he thought,--she wronged herself by being in +their company, or allowing them to be in hers! He watched her as she +received part of the 'county' in the Ittlethwaites of Ittlethwaite +Park, with a charming smile of welcome for Bruce Ittlethwaite, a +lively bachelor of sixty, and for his eldest sister Arabella, some +ten years younger, a lady whose portly form was attired in a +wonderful apple-green satin, trimmed with priceless lace, the latter +entirely lost as an article of value, among the misshapen folds of +the green gown, which had been created, no doubt, by some local +dressmaker, whose ideas were evidently more voluminous than +artistic. And presently, as he stood, a quiet spectator of the +different types of persons who were mingling with each other in the +casual conversation on current topics and events, which always +occupies that interval of time known as the 'mauvais quart d'heure' +before the announcement of dinner, he happened to look at Maryllia's +own dress, and, noticing it more closely, smiled. It was not the +first time he had seen that dress!--and a faint colour warmed his +cheeks as he remembered the occasion when Mrs. Spruce had sent for +him as a 'man o' God' to serve as a witness to her system of +unpacking her lady's wardrobe. That was the dress the garrulous old +housekeeper had held up in her arms as though she were a clothes- +prop, with the observation, 'It's orful wot the world's a-comin' to- +-orful! Fancy diamants all sewed on to a gown!' The gown with the +'diamants' was the very one which now clothed Maryllia,--falling +over an underskirt of palest pink satin, it glittered softly about +her like dew spangles on rose-leaves--and involuntarily Walden +thought of the pink shoes he had also seen,--those absurd little +shoes!--did she wear them with that fairy-like frock, he wondered? +He dared not look towards the floor, lest he should catch a sudden +glimpse of the shining points of that ridiculous but fascinating +foot-gear that had once so curiously discomposed him. Those shoes +might peep out at any moment from under the 'diamants'--with a blink +of familiarity which would be, to say the least of it, embarrassing. +His reflections were at this juncture interrupted by a smooth voice +at his ear. + +"How do you do, Mr. Walden?" + +A glance showed the speaker to be Mr. Marius Longford, and he +responded with brief courtesy. + +"Permit me"--continued Mr. Longford--"to introduce you to Lord +Roxmouth!" + +Walden bowed stiffly. + +"I must congratulate you on the beauty of your church, Mr. Walden,"- +-said Roxmouth, with his usual conventional smile--"I have never +seen a finer piece of work. It is not so much a restoration as a +creation." + +Walden said nothing. He did not particularly care for compliments +from Lord Roxmouth. + +"That sarcophagus,"--continued his lordship--"was a very singular +'find.' I suppose you have no clue to the possible identity of the +saint or sinner whose ashes repose within it?" + +"None,"--replied Walden--"Something might probably be discovered if +the casket were opened. But that will never happen during my +lifetime." + +"You would consider it sacrilege, no doubt?" queried Roxmouth, with +a tolerant air. + +"I should, most certainly!" + +"Nonsense, nonsense!" said Sir Morton Pippitt, obtruding himself on +the conversation at this moment--"God bless my soul! Not so very +long ago every churchyard in England used to have its regular clean +out--ha-ha-ha!--all the bones and skulls used to be dug up and +thrown together in a charnel house, higgledy-piggledy--and nobody +ever talked about sacrilege! You should progress with the age, Mr. +Walden!--you should progress! Why shouldn't a coffin be opened as +readily as any other box, eh? There's generally nothing inside--ha- +ha-ha!--nothing inside worth keeping, ha-ha-ha! The plan of a +spring-cleaning for churchyards was an excellent one, I think;--God +bless my soul!--why not?--makes room for more hodies and saves extra +land being given up to those who are past farming it, except in the +way of manure, ha-ha-ha! There's no such thing as sacrilege +nowadays, Mr. Walden!--why we've got the photograph of Rameses, +taken after a few thousand years' decomposition had set in--ha-ha- +ha! And not bad looking--not bad looking!--rather wild about the +eyes, that's all--ha-ha! God bless my soul!" + +These choice observations of the knight Pippitt were brought to a +happy conclusion by the marshalling of the guests into dinner. Sir +Morton, much to his chagrin, found himself deputed to escort Lady +Wicketts, whose unwieldy proportions allied to his own, made it +difficult for both to pass with proper dignity through the dining- +room doorway. A little excited whispering between Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay and Lady Beaulyon took place, as to whether 'Maryllia Van' +in her professed detestation of Lord Roxmouth, would forget +etiquette and the rule of 'precedence'--but they soon saw she did +not intend to so commit herself. For when all her guests had passed +in before her, she followed resignedly on the arm of the future +Duke. As the greatest stranger, and as the highest in social rank of +all present, he had claim to this privilege, and she was too tactful +to refuse it. + +"What a delightful chatelaine you are!" he murmured, looking down at +her as she rested her little gloved hand with scarce a touch on his +arm--"And how proud and glad I am to be once more beside you! Ah, +Maryllia, you are very cruel to me! If you would only realise how +happy we could be--always together!" + +She made no answer. Arriving in the dining-room, she withdrew her +hand from his arm, and seated herself at the head of her table. He +then found that he was on her right hand, while Lord Charlemont was +on her left. Next to Lord Charlemont sat Lady Beaulyon,--and next to +Lady Beaulyon John Walden was placed with the partner allotted to +him, Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay. On Roxmouth's own side there were Lady +Wicketts and Sir Morton Pippitt,--so it chanced that the table was +arranged in a manner that brought certain parties who were by no +means likely to agree on any one given point, directly opposite to +each other. Cicely, peeping out from a little ante-room, where she +had entreated to be allowed to stand and watch the proceedings, made +a running commentary on this in her own particular fashion. Cicely +was looking very picturesque, in a new white frock which Maryllia +had given her,--with a broad crimson sash knotted carelessly round +her waist and a ribbon of the same colour in her luxuriant black +hair. She was to sing after dinner--Gigue had told her she was to +'astonish ze fools'--and she was ready to do it. Her dark eyes shone +like stars, and her lips were cherry-red with excitement,--so much +so that Mrs. Spruce, thinking she was feverish, had given her a +glass of 'cooling cordial'--made of fruit and ice and lemon water, +which she was enjoying at intervals while criticising the fine folks +in the dining-room. + +"Well done, Maryllia!" she murmured, as she saw her friend enter on +Roxmouth's arm--"Cold as a ray of the moon, but doing her social +duty to the bitter end! What a tom-cat Roxmouth is!--a sleek pussy, +sure to snarl if his fur is rubbed up the wrong way--but he is just +the type that some women would like to marry--he looks so well-bred. +Poor Mr. Walden!--he's got to talk to the Everlasting-Youth lady,-- +and old Sir Morton Pippitt is immediately opposite to him!--now +that's too bad of Maryllia!--it really is! She knows how the bone- +boiler longs to boil Mr. Walden's bones, and that Mr. Walden wishes +Sir Morton Pippitt were miles away from him! They shouldn't have +faced each other. But how very, very superior to all the lot Mr. +Walden looks!--he really IS handsome!--he has such an intellectual +head. There's Gigue chattering away to poor old Miss Fosby!--oh +dear! Miss Fosby will never understand him! What a motley crew! And +I shall have to sing to them all after they've dined! Saint Moses! +It will be a sort of 'first appearance in England.' A good test, +too, because all the English eat nearly to bursting before they go +to the opera. No wonder they never can grasp what the music is +about, or who's who! It's all salmon and chicken and lobster and +champagne with them--not Beethoven or Wagner or Rossini. Good old +Gigue! His spirits are irrepressible! How he is laughing! Mr. Walden +looks very serious--almost tragic--I wonder what he is thinking +about! I wish I could hear what they are all saying--but it's +nothing but buzz, buzz!" + +She took a sip at her 'cordial,' watching with artistic appreciation +the gay scene in the Manor dining-room--the twinkling lights on the +silver and glass and flowers--the elegant dresses of the women,--the +jewels that flashed like starbeams on the lovely neck and shoulders +of Lady Beaulyon,--the ripples of gold-auburn in Maryllia's hair,-- +it was a picture that radiated with a thousand colours on the eye +and the brain, and was certainly one destined, so far as many of +those who formed a part of it were concerned, never to be forgotten. +Not that there was anything very remarkable or brilliant in the +conversation at the dinner-table,--there never is nowadays. Peeple +dine with their friends merely to eat, not to talk. One never by any +chance hears so much even as an echo of wit or wisdom. Occasionally +a note of scandal is struck,--and more often than not, a +questionable anecdote is related, calculated to bring 'a blush to +the cheek of the Young Person,' if a Young Person who can blush +still exists, and happens to be present. But as a rule, the general +habitude of the dining class is to discourse in a very desultory and +inconsequential, not to say stupid, style, and the guests at the +Manor proved no exception to the rule. Sir Morton Pippitt fired off +bumptious observations at Walden, who paid no heed to them--Bruce +Ittlethwaite of Ittlethwaite Park, found a congenial spirit in Lord +Charlemont, and talked sport right through the repast--and Louis +Gigue enlivened the table by a sudden discussion with Mr. Marius +Longford, relative to the position of art in Great Britain. + +"Mon Dieu!" he exclaimed, with a snap of his fingers--"Ze art is +dead in Angleterre,--zere is no musique, ze poesie. Zis is ze land +of ze A-penny journal--ze musique, ze poesie, ze science, ze +politique, ze sentiment,--one A-penny! Bah! Ca, ce, n'est pas +possible!--zis pauvre pays is kill avec ze vulgarite of ze cheap! Ze +people are for ze cheap--for ze photographic, instead of ze picture- +-ze gramophone, instead of ze artist fingers avec ze brain--et ze +literature--it is ze cheap 'imitation de Zola,' qui obtient les +eloges du monde critique a Londres. Vous ecrivez?"--and he shook his +finger at Longford--"Bien'! Ecrivez un roman qui est sain, pure et +noble--et ze A-penny man vill moque de ca--mais--ecrivez of ze dirt +of ze human naturel, et voila! Ze A-penny man say 'Bon! Ah que c'est +l'art! Donnes moi l'ordure que je peux sentir! C'est naturel! C'est +divin! C'est l'art!'" + +A murmur, half of laughter, half of shocked protest, went round the +table. + +"I think," said Mr. Longford, with a pale smile--"that according to +the school of the higher criticism, we must admit the natural to be +the only divine." + +Gigue's rolling eyes gleamed under his shaggy hair. + +"Je ne comprends pas!"--he said--"Ven ze pig squeak, c'est naturel-- +ce n'est pas divin! Ven ze man scratch ze flea, c'est naturel--ce +n'est pas divin! Ze art ne desire pas ze picture of ze flea! Ze +literature n'existe pas pour ze squeak of ze pig! Ah, bah! L'art,-- +c'est l'imagination--l'ideal--c'est le veritable Dieu en l'homme!" + +Longford gave vent to a snigger, which was his way of laughing. + +"God is an abstract illusion,"--he said--"One does not introduce a +non-available quantity in the summing up of facts!" + +"Ah! Vous ne croyez pas en Dieu?" And Gigue ruffled up his grey hair +with one hand. "Mais--a quoi bon! Ca ne sert rien! Dieu pent exister +sans votre croyance, Monsieur!--je vous jure!" + +And he laughed--a hearty laugh that was infectious and carried the +laughter of everyone else with it. Longford, irritated, turned to +his next neighbour with some trite observation, and allowed the +discussion to drop. But Walden had heard it, and his heart went out +to Gigue for the manner in which he had, for the moment at least, +quenched the light of the 'Savage and Savile.' + +Up at the end of the table at which he, Walden, sat, things were of +rather a strained character. Lord Roxmouth essayed to be witty and +conversational, but received so little encouragement in his sallies +from Maryllia, that he had to content himself with Lady Wicketts, +whom he found a terrible bore. Sir Morton Pippitt, eating heartily +of everything, was gradually becoming purple in the face and +somnolent under the influence of wine and food,--Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay, tired of trying to 'draw' Walden on sundry topics, got +cross and impatient, the more so as she found that he could make +himself very charming to the other people in his immediate vicinity, +and that, as the dinner proceeded, he 'came out' as it were, very +unexpectedly in conversation, and proved himself not only an +intellectually brilliant man, but a socially entertaining one. Lord +Roxmouth glanced at him curiously from time to time with growing +suspicion and disfavour. He was not the kind of subservient, half +hypocritical, mock-meek being that is conventionally supposed to +represent a country 'cure.' His independent air, his ease of manner, +and above all, his intelligence and high culture, were singularly +displeasing to Lord Roxmouth, especially as he noticed that Maryllia +listened to everything Walden said, and appeared to be more +interested in his observations than in those of anyone else at the +table. Exchanging a suggestive glance with Lady Beaulyon, Roxmouth +saw that she was taking notes equally with himself on this +circumstance, and his already hard face hardened, and grew colder +and more inflexible as Walden, with a gaiety and humour irresistibly +his own, kept the ball of conversation rolling, and gradually drew +to his own strong and magnetic personality, the appreciative +attention of nearly all present. + +Truth to tell, a sudden exhilaration and excitement had wakened up +John's latent forces,--Maryllia's eyes, glancing half timidly, half +wistfully at him, and her fair face, slightly troubled in its +expression, had moved him to an exertion of his best powers to +please her, and make everything bright and gay around her. Instinct +told him that some secret annoyance fretted her--and watching her +looks, and noting the monosyllabic replies she gave to Lord Roxmouth +whenever that distinguished personage addressed her, he decided, +with a foolish thrill at his heart, that the report of her intended +marriage with this nobleman could not be true--she could never look +so coldly at anyone she loved! And with this idea paramount in his +brain he gave himself up to the humour of the hour--and by and by +heads were turned in his direction, and people whispered--'Is that +the parson of the parish?'--and when the answer was given in the +affirmative, wondering glances were exchanged, and someone at the +other end of the table remarked sotto voce:--'Much too brilliant a +man for the country!'--whereat Miss Arabella Ittlethwaite bridled up +and said she 'hoped nobody thought that town offered the only +samples of the human brain worth noticing,' as she would, in that +case, 'beg to differ.' Whereat there ensued a lively discussion, +which ended, so far as the general experience went, in the decision +that clever men were always born or discovered in the country, but +that after a while they invariably went up to town, and there became +famous. + +Presently, the dinner drawing to an end, dessert, coffee and the +smoking conveniences for both ladies and gentlemen were handed +round,--cigars for the gentlemen, cigarettes for both gentlemen and +ladies. All the women helped themselves to cigarettes, as a matter +of course, with the exception of Miss Ittlethwaite,--(who, as a +'county' lady of the old school, sat transfixed with horror at the +bare idea of being expected to smoke)--poor old Miss Fosby, and +Maryllia. And now occurred an incident, in itself trifling, but +fraught with strange results to those immediately concerned. Lady +Beaulyon was just about to light her own cigarette when, in +obedience to a sudden thought that flashed across her brain, she +turned her lovely laughing face round towards Walden, and said: + +"As there's a clergyman present, I'm sure we ought to ask his +permission before we light up! Don't you think it very shocking for +women to smoke, Mr. Walden?" + +He looked straight at her--his face paling a little with a sense of +strongly suppressed feeling. + +"I have always been under the impression that English ladies never +smoke,"--he said, quietly, with a very slight emphasis on the word +'ladies.' "The rest, of course, must do as they please!" + +Had a bombshell suddenly exploded in the dining-room, the effect +could hardly have been more stupefying than these words. There was +an awful pause. The women, holding the unlit cigarettes delicately +between their fingers, looked enquiringly at their hostess. The men +stared; Lord Roxmouth laughed. + +Maryllia turned white as a snowdrop--but her eyes blazed with sudden +amazement, indignation and pride that made lightning in their tender +blue. Then,--deliberately choosing a cigarette from the silver box +which had been placed on the table before her, she lit it,--and +began to puff the smoke from her rosy lips in delicate rings, +turning to Lord Roxmouth as she did so with a playful word and +smile. It was enough;--the 'lead' was given. A glance of approval +went the round of her London lady guests--who, exonerated by her +prompt action from all responsibility, lighted their cigarettes +without further ado, and the room was soon misty with tobacco fumes. +Not a word was addressed to Walden,--a sudden mantle of fog seemed +to have fallen over him, covering him up from the consciousness of +the company, for no one even glanced at him, except covertly,--no +one appeared to have heard or noticed his remark. Lord Charlemont +looked, as he felt, distressed. In his heart he admired Walden for +his boldness in speaking out frankly against a modern habit of women +which he also considered reprehensible,--but at the same time he +recognised that the reproof had perhaps been administered too +openly. Walden himself sat rigid and very pale--he fully realised +what he had done,--and he knew he was being snubbed for it--but he +did not care. + +"Better so!"--he said to himself in an inward rage--"Better that I +should never see her again than see her as she is now! She wrongs +herself!--and I cannot be a silent witness of her wrong, even though +it is wrought by her own hand!" + +The buzz of talk now grew more loud and incessant;--he saw Sir +Morton Pippitt's round eyes fixed upon him with an astonished and +derisive stare,--and he longed for the moment to come when he might +escape from the whole smoking, chattering party. All that his own +eyes consciously beheld was Maryllia--Maryllia, the dainty, pretty, +delicate feminine creature who seemed created out of the finest +mortal and spiritual essences,--smoking! That cigarette stuck in her +pretty mouth, vulgarised her appearance at once,--coarsened her-- +made her look as if she were indeed the rapid 'Maryllia Van' his +friend Bishop Brent had written of. What did he care if not a soul +at that table ever spoke to him again? Nothing! But he cared--oh, he +cared greatly for any roughening touch on that little figure of +smooth white and rose flesh, which somehow he had, unconsciously to +himself, set in a niche for thoughts higher than common! He was +quite aware that he had committed a social error, yet he was sorry +she could not have reproved him in some other fashion than that of +deliberately doing what he had just condemned as unbecoming to a +lady. And his mind was in a whirl, when at last she rose to give the +signal to adjourn, passing out of the dining-room without a glance +in his direction. + +The moment she had vanished, he at once prepared to leave, not only +the room, but the house. No one offered to detain him. The men were +all too conscious of what they considered his 'faux pas'--and they +were also made rather uncomfortable by the decided rebuff he had +received from their hostess. Yet they all liked him, and were, in +their way, sorry for what had occurred. Lord Roxmouth, with the easy +assurance of one who is conscious of his own position, remarked with +kindly banter:-- + +"Won't you stay with us, Mr. Walden? Are you obliged to go?" + +Walden looked at him unflinchingly, yet with a smile. + +"When a man elects to speak his mind, Lord Roxmouth, his room is +better than his company!" + +And with this he left them--to laugh at him if they chose--caring +little whether they did or not. Passing into the hall, he took his +hat and coat,--he was angry with himself, yet not ashamed,--for +something in his soul told him that he had done rightly, even as a +minister of the Gospel, to utter a protest against the vulgarising +of womanhood. He stepped out into the courtyard--the moon was +rising, and the air was very sweet and cool. + +"I was wrong!"--he said, half aloud--"And yet I was right! I should +not have said what I did,--and yet I should! If no man is ever bold +enough to protest again the voluntary and fast-increasing self- +degradation of women, then men will be most to blame if the next +generation of wives and mothers are shameless, unsexed, indecorous, +and wholly unworthy of their life's mission. How angry she looked! +Possibly she will never speak to me again. Well, what does it +matter! The wider apart our paths are set, the better!" + +He reached the gate of the courtyard, and was about to pass through +it, when a little fluttering figure in white, with crimson in its +rough dark hair, rushed after him. It was Cicely. + +"Don't go, please Mr. Walden!" she said, breathlessly; and he saw, +even by the light of the moon, that her eyes were wet--"Please don't +go! Maryllia wishes to speak to you." + +He turned a pale, composed face upon her. + +"Where?" + +"In the picture-gallery. She is alone there. She saw you cross the +courtyard, and sent me after you. All the other people are in the +drawing-room, waiting to hear me sing--and I must run, for Gigue is +there, and he is so impatient! Please, Mr. Walden!"--and Cicely's +voice shook--"Please don't mind if Maryllia is angry! She IS angry! +But it's all on the surface--she doesn't really mean it--she +wouldn't be unkind for all the world! I know what you said,--I was +watching the dinner-party from the ante-room and I saw everything-- +and--and--I think you were just splendid!--it's horrid for women to +smoke--but they nearly all do it nowadays--only I never saw Maryllia +do it before, and oh, Mr. Walden, make it all right with her, +please!" + +For a moment John hesitated. Then a kind smile softened his +features. + +"I can't quite promise that, Cicely,--but I'll do my best!" And +taking her hand he patted it gently, as she furtively dashed one or +two tear-drops from her lashes--"Come, come, you mustn't cry! Run +away and sing like the little nightingale you are--don't fret---" + +"But you'll go to Maryllia, won't you?" she urged, anxiously. + +"Yes. I'll go!" + +She lifted her dark eyes, and he saw how true and full of soul they +were, despite their witch-like wildness and passion. Just then a +stormy passage of music, played on the piano, and tumbling out, as +it seemed, on the air through the open windows of the Manor drawing- +room, reminded her that she was being waited for by her impetuous +and impatient maestro. + +"That's the signal for me!" she said--"I must run! But oh do, do +make it up with Maryllia and be friends!" + +She rushed away. He waited till she had disappeared, then turning +back through the courtyard, slowly re-entered the house. + + + + +XXIII + + +The lights were burning low and dimly in the picture-gallery when he +entered it and saw Maryllia there, pacing restlessly up and down, +the folds of her dress with the 'diamants' sparkling around her as +she moved, like a million little drops of frost on gossamer, while +her small head, lifted proudly on its slim arched throat, seemed to +his heated fancy, as though crowned with fresh coronals of gold +woven from the summer sun. Turning, she confronted him and paused +irresolute,--then, with a sudden impulsive gesture, came forward +swiftly,--her cheeks flaming crimson,--her lips trembling, and her +bosom heaving with its quickened breath like that of a fluttered +bird. + +"How dare you!" she said, in a low, strained voice--"How dare you!" + +He met her eyes,--and in that moment individual and personal +considerations were swept aside, and only the Right and the Wrong +presented themselves to his mental vision, like witnesses from a +higher world, invisible but omnipotent, waiting for the result of +the first clash of combat between two human souls. Yielding to his +own over-mastering emotion, and reckless of consequences, he caught +her two hands lightly in his own. + +"And how dare YOU!" he said earnestly,--"Little girl, how dare YOU +so hurt yourself!" + +They gazed upon one another,--each one secretly amazed at the +other's outbreak of feeling,--she grown white and speechless,--he +with a swift strong sense of his own power and authority as a mere +man, nerving him to the utterance of truth for her sake--for her +sake!--regardless of all forms and ceremonies. Then he dropped her +hands as quickly as he had grasped them. + +"Forgive me!" he said, very softly,--and paused, till recovering +more of his self-possession, he continued quietly--"You should not +have sent for me, Miss Vancourt! Knowing that I had offended you, I +was leaving your house, never intending to enter it again. Why did +you summon me back? To reproach me? It would be kinder to spare me +this, and let me go my own way!" + +He waited for her to speak. But she was silent. Anger, humiliation +and wounded pride, mingled with a certain struggling respect and +admiration for his boldness, held her mute. She little knew how +provocatively lovely she looked as she stood haughtily immovable, +her eyes alone flashing eloquent rebellion;--she little guessed that +John committed the picture of her fairness to the innermost +recording cells of his brain, there to be stored up preciously, and +never forgotten. + +"I am sorry,"--he resumed--"that I spoke as I did just now at your +table--because you are angry with me. But I cannot say that I am +sorry for any other reason--" + +At this Maryllia found her voice suddenly. + +"You have insulted my guests---" + +"Ah, no!" said John, almost with a smile--"Women who are habitual +smokers are not easily insulted! They are past that, believe me! The +fine susceptibilities which one might otherwise attribute to them +have been long ago blunted. They do not command respect, and +naturally, they can scarcely expect to receive it." + +"I do not agree with you!" retorted Maryllia, with rising warmth, as +she regained her self-control, and with it her deep sense of +irritation--"You were rude,--and rudeness is unpardonable! You said +as much as to imply that none of the women present were ladies---" + +"None of those who smoked were!"--said John, coolly. + +"Mr. Walden! I myself, smoked!" + +"You did,"--and he moved a step or two nearer to her, his whole face +lighting up with keen emotion--"And why did you? The motive was +intended to be courteous--but the principle was wrong!" + +"Wrong!" she echoed, angrily--"Wrong?" + +"Yes--wrong! Have you never been told that you can do one thing +wrong among so many that you do right, Miss Vancourt?" he asked, +with great gentleness--"You had it in your power to show your true +womanliness by refusing to smoke,--you could, in your position as +hostess, have saved your women friends from making fools of +themselves--yes--the word is out, and I don't apologise for it!"-- +here a sudden smile kindled in his fine eyes--"And you could also +have given them all an example of obedience." + +"Obedience!" exclaimed Maryllia, astonished,--"What do you mean? +Obedience to whom?" + +"To me!" replied John, with perfect composure. + +She gazed at him, scarcely believing she had heard aright. + +"To you?" she repeated--"To you?" + +"Why certainly!" said John, wondering even as he spoke at his own +ease and self-assurance--"As minister of the parish I am the only +person here that is set in authority over you--and the first thing +you do is to defy me!" + +His manner was whimsical and kindly,--his tone of voice playfully +tender, as though he were speaking to some naughty child whom, +notwithstanding its temper, he loved too well to scold,--and +Maryllia was completely taken aback by this unexpected method of +treating her combative humour. Her pretty mouth opened like a +rosebud,--she seemed as though she would speak, but only an +inarticulate murmur came from her parted lips; while the very +faintest lurking suspicion of a smile crept dimpling over her face, +to be lost again in the hostile expression of her eyes. + +"You say I was rude,"--he went on,--"If I was, need you have been +rude too?" + +She found utterance quickly. + +"I was not rude---" she began. + +"Pardon me,--you were! Rude to me--and still more rude to yourself! +The last was the worst affront, in my opinion!" + +"I do not understand you," she said, impatiently--"Your ideas of +women are not those of the present day---" + +"Thank God, they are not!" he replied--"I am glad to be in that +respect, old-fashioned! You say you do not understand me. Now that +is not true! You do understand! You know very well that if I was +rude in my UNpremeditated speech, you were much more rude in your +premeditated act!--that of deliberately spoiling your womanly self +by doing what you know in your own heart was--will you forgive me +the word?--unwomanly!" + +Maryllia flushed red. + +"There is no harm in smoking," she said, coldly;--"it is quite the +usual thing nowadays for ladies to enjoy their cigarettes. Why +should they not? It is nothing new. Spanish women have always +smoked--Austrian and Italian women smoke freely without any adverse +comment--in fact, the custom is almost universal. English women have +been the last, certainly, to adopt it--but then, England is always +behind every country in everything!" + +She spoke with a hard flippancy,--and she knew it. Walden's eyes +darkened into a deeper gravity. + +"Miss Vancourt, this England of ours was once upon a time not +behind, but BEFORE every nation in the whole world for the +sweetness, purity and modesty of its women! That it has become one +with less enlightened races in the deliberate unsexing and +degradation of womanhood does not now, and will not in the future, +redound to its credit. But I am prolonging a discussion uselessly,-- +" He waited a moment. "I shall trouble you no more with my opinions, +believe me,--nor shall I ever again intrude my presence upon +yourself or your guests,"--he continued, slowly,--"As I have already +said, I am sorry to have offended YOU,--but I am not sorry to have +spoken my mind! I do not care a jot what your friends from London +think of me or say of me,--their criticism, good or bad, is to me a +matter of absolute indifference--but I had thought--I had hoped---" + +He paused,--his voice for the moment failing him. Maryllia looked at +his pale, earnest face, and a sudden sense of shamed compunction +smote her heart. Her anger was fast cooling down,--and with the +swift change of mood which made her so variable and bewitching, she +said, more gently: + +"Well, Mr. Walden? You thought--you hoped?" + +"That we might be friends,"--he answered, quietly--"But I see +plainly that is impossible!" + +She was silent. He stood very still,--his eyes wandering +involuntarily to the painted beauty of 'Mary Elia Adelgisa de +Vaignecourt,' which he had admired and studied so often for many +lonely years, and back again along the dimly lit gallery to that +unveiled portrait of the young bride who never came home, the mother +of the little proud creature who confronted him with such fairy-like +stateliness and pretty assertion of her small self in combat against +him, and upon whom his glance finally rested with a lingering +sadness and pain. Then he said in a low tone: + +"Good-night, Miss Vancourt--good-bye!" + +At this a cloud of distress swept across her mobile features. "There +now!" she said to herself--"He's going away and he'll never come to +the Manor any more! I intended to make him quite ashamed of himself- +-and he isn't a bit! So like a man! He'd rather die than own himself +in the wrong--besides he ISN'T wrong,--oh dear!--he mustn't go away +in a huff!" + +And with a sudden yielding sweetness and grace of action of which +she was quite unconscious, she extended her hands to him-- + +"Oh, no, Mr. Walden!" she said, earnestly--"I am not so angry as all +that! Not good-bye!" Hardly knowing what he did, he took her +offered hands and held them tenderly in his own. + +"Not good-bye!" she said, trembling a little, and flushing rose-red +with a certain embarrassment--"I don't really want to quarrel--I +don't indeed! We--we were getting on so nicely together--and it is +so seldom one CAN get on with a clergyman!"--here she began to +laugh--"But you know it was dreadful of you, wasn't it?--at any rate +it sounded dreadful--when you said that English ladies never smoked- +--" + +"Neither they do,"--declared John resolutely, yet smilingly, "Except +by way of defiance!" + +She glanced up at him,--and the mirthful sparkle in his eyes was +reflected in her own. + +"You are very obstinate!" she said, as she drew her hands away from +his--"But I suppose you really do think smoking is wrong for women?" + +His heart was beating, his pulses thrilling under the influence of +her touch, her appealing look and sudden change of manner,--but he +was not to be moved from his convictions, though all the world +should swim round him in a glamour of blue eyes and gold hair. + +"I think so, most certainly!" + +"But why?" + +He hesitated. + +"Well, the act of smoking in itself is not wrong--but the +associations of the habit are unfit for womanhood. I know very well +that it has become usual in England for ladies to smoke,--most +unfortunately--but there are many habits and customs in this country +as well as in others, which, because they are habitual, are not the +less, but rather the more, pernicious. I confess to a strong +prejudice against smoking women." + +"But men smoke--why should not women smoke also?" persisted +Maryllia. + +Walden heard this plea with smiling patience. + +"Men,--a very large majority of them too--habitually get drunk. Do +you think it justifiable for women to get drunk by way of following +the men's example?" + +"Why no, of course not!"--she answered quickly--"But drunkenness is +a vice---" + +"So is smoking! And it is quite as unhealthy as all vices are. There +have been more addle-pated statesmen and politicians in England +since smoking became a daily necessity with, them than were ever +known before. I don't believe in any human being who turns his brain +into a chimney. And.--pardon me!--when YOU deliberately put that +cigarette in your mouth---" + +"Well!" and a mischievous dimple appeared on each soft cheek as she +looked up--"What did you think of me? Now be perfectly frank!" + +"I will!" he said, slowly, with an earnest gravity darkening in his +eyes--"I should not be your true friend if I were otherwise! But if +I tell you what I thought--and what I may say I know from long +experience all honest Englishmen think when they see a woman +smoking--you must exonerate me in your mind and understand that my +thoughts were only momentary. I knew that your better, sweeter self +would soon reassert its sway!" + +Her head drooped a little--she was quite silent. + +"I thought,"--he went on, "when I saw you actually smoking, that +something strange and unnatural had happened to you! That you had +become, in some pitiful way, a different woman to the one that +walked with me, not so long ago, and showed me her old French damask +roses blossoming in the border!"--he paused an instant, his voice +faltering a little,--then he resumed, quietly and firmly--"and that +you had, against all nature's best intentions for you, descended to +the level of Lady Beaulyon---" + +She interrupted him by a quick gesture--- + +"Eva Beaulyon is my friend, Mr. Walden!" + +"No--not your friend!"--he said steadily--"Forgive me! You asked me +to speak frankly. She is a friend to none except those of her own +particular class and type---" + +"To which I also belong,"--said Maryllia, with a sudden flash of +returning rebellion--"You know I do!" + +"I know you do NOT!" replied Walden, with some heat--"And I thank +God for it! I know you are no more of her class and type than the +wood lily is like the rank and poisonous marsh weed! Oh, child!--why +do you wrong yourself! If I am too blunt and plain in what I say to +you, let me cease speaking--but if you ask ME as your friend--as +your minister!"--and he emphasised the word--"to tell you honestly +my opinion, have patience with my roughness!" + +"You are not rough," she murmured,--and a little contraction in her +throat warned her of the possible rising of tears--"But you are +scarcely tolerant!" + +"I cannot be tolerant of the demoralisation of womanhood!"--he said, +passionately--"I cannot look on with an easy smile when I see the +sex that SHOULD be the saving purity of the world, deliberately +sinking itself by its own free will and choice into the mire of the +vulgarest social vice, and parting with every redeeming grace, +modesty and virtue that once made it sacred and beautiful! I am +quite aware that there are many men who not only look on, but even +encourage this world-wide debasement of women in order to bring them +down on a par with themselves--but I am not one of these. I know +that when women cease to be womanly, then the sorrows of the world, +already heavy, will be doubled and trebled! When men come to be +ashamed of their mothers--as many of them are to-day--there will be +but little hope of good for future generations! And the fact that +there are many women of title and position like your guest, Lady +Beaulyon, who deliberately drag their husband's honour through the +dust and publicly glory in their own disgrace, does not make their +crime the less, but rather the more criminal. You know this as well +as I do! You are not of Lady Beaulyon's class or type--if you were, +I should not waste one moment of my time in your presence!" + +She gazed at him speechlessly. And now from the drawing room came +the sound of Cicely's voice, clear, powerful, and as sweet as +legends tell us the voices of the angels are-- + + "Luna fedel, tu chiama + Col raggio ed io col suon, + La fulgida mia dama + Sul gotico veron!" + +"You know," he went on impetuously--"You know I told you before that +I am not a society man. I said that if I came to dinner to meet your +London friends, I should be very much in the way. You have found me +so. A man of my age and of my settled habits and convictions ought +to avoid society altogether. It is not possible for him to +accommodate himself to it. For instance,--see how old-fashioned and +strait-laced I am!--I wish I had been miles away from St. Rest +before I had ever seen you smoking! It is a trifle, perhaps,--but it +is one of those trifles which stick in the memory and embitter the +mind!" + +Around them the air seemed to break and divide into pulsations of +melody as Cicely sang: + + "Diro che sei d'argente + D'opale, d'ambra e d'or, + Diro che incanti il vento, + E che innamori i fior!" + +"You have seemed to me such an ideal of English womanhood!"--he went +on dreamily, hardly aware how far his words were carrying him--"The +sweet and fitting mistress of this dear old house, richly endowed as +it is with noblest memories of the noble dead! Their proud and +tender spirit has looked out of your eyes--or so I have fancied;-- +and you are naturally so kind and gentle--you have been so good to +the people in the village,--they all love you--they all wish to +think well of you;--for you have proved yourself practically as well +as emotionally sympathetic to them. And, above all things, you have +appeared so pre-eminently delicate and dainty in your tastes--so +maidenly!--I should as soon have expected to see the Greek Psyche +smoking as you!" + +She took a swift step towards him, and laid her hand on his arm. + +"Can't you forget it?" she said. + +He looked at her. Her eyes were humid, and her lips trembled a +little. + +"Forget what?" he asked gently. + +"That I smoked!" + +He hesitated a second. + +"I will try!" + +"You see!"--went on Maryllia, coaxingly--"we shall have to live in +the same parish, and we shall be compelled to meet each other often- +-and it would never do for you to be always thinking of that +cigarette! Now would it?" + +He was silent. The little hand on his arm gave an insistent +pressure. + +"Of course when you conjure up such an awful picture as Psyche +smoking, I know just how you feel about it!" And her eyes sparkled +up at him with an arch look which, fortunately for his peace of +mind, his own eyes did not meet,--"And naturally you must hold very +strong opinions on the subject,--dreadfully strong! But then--nobody +has ever thought me at all like Psyche before--so you so--you see!-- +" She paused, and John began to feel his heart beating uncomfortably +fast. "It's very nice to be compared to Psyche anyhow!--and of +course she would look impossible and awful with a cigarette in her +mouth! I quite understand! She couldn't smoke,--she wouldn't!--and-- +and--_I_ won't! I won't really! You won't believe me, I expect,--but +I assure you, I never smoke! I only did it this evening, because,-- +because,--well!--because I thought I ought to defend my own sex +against your censure--and also perhaps--perhaps out of a little bit +of bravado! But, I'm sorry! There! Will you forgive me?" + +Nearly, very nearly, John lost his head. Maryllia had used the +strongest weapon in all woman's armoury,--humility,--and he went +down before it, completely overwhelmed and conquered. A swirl of +emotion swept over him,--his brain grew dizzy, and for a moment he +saw nothing in earth or heaven but the sweet upturned face, the soft +caressing eyes, the graceful yielding form clad in its diaphanous +draperies of jewelled gossamer,--then pulling himself together with +a strong effort which made him well-nigh tremble, he took the small +hand that lay in white confidence on his arm, and raised it to his +lips with a grave, courtly, almost cold reverence. + +"It is you to forgive ME, Miss Vancourt!"--he said, unsteadily. "For +I am quite aware that I committed a breach of social etiquette at +your table,--and--and--I know I have taken considerable liberty in +speaking my mind to you as I have done. Even as your minister I fear +I have overstepped my privileges---" + +"Oh, please don't apologise!" said Maryllia, quickly--"It's all +over, you know! You've said your say, and I've said mine--and I'm +sure we both feel better for it. Don't we?" + +John smiled, but his face was very pale, and his eyes were troubled. +He was absorbed in the problem of his own struggling emotions--how +to master them--how to keep them back from breaking into passionate +speech,--and her bewitching, childlike air, half penitent, half +mischievous, was making sad havoc of his self-possession. + +"We are friends again now,"--she went on--"And really,--really we +MUST try and keep so!" + +This, with a quaint little nod of emphatic decision. + +"Do you think it will be difficult?" he asked, looking at her more +earnestly and tenderly than he himself was aware of. + +She laughed, and blushed a little. + +"I don't know!--it may be!" she said--"You see you've twice ruffled +me up the wrong way! I was very angry--oh, very angry indeed, when +you coolly stopped the service because we all came in late that +Sunday,--and to-night I was very angry again---" + +"But I was NOT angry!" said John, simply--"And it takes two to make +a quarrel!" + +She peeped at him from under her long lashes and again the fleeting +blush swept over her fair face. + +"I must go now!"--she said--"Won't you come into the drawing-room?-- +just to hear Cicely sing at her very best?" + +"Not to-night,"--he answered quickly--"If you will excuse me---" + +"Of course I will excuse you!" and she smiled--"I know you don't +like company." + +"I very much DISLIKE it!" he said, emphatically--"But then I'm quite +an unsociable person. You see I've lived alone here for ten years--- +" + +"And you want to go on living alone for another ten years--I see!" +said Maryllia--"Well! So you shall! I promise I won't interfere!" + +He looked at her half appealingly. + +"I don't think you understand,"--he said,--then paused. + +"Oh yes, I understand perfectly!" And she smiled radiantly. "You +like to be left quite to yourself, with your books and flowers, and +the bits of glass for the rose-window in the church. By the bye, I +must help you with that rose-window! I will get you some genuine old +pieces--and if I find any very rare specimens of medieval blue or +crimson you'll be so pleased that you'll forget all about that +cigarette--you know you will!" + +"Miss Vancourt,"--he began earnestly--"if you will only believe that +it is because I think so highly of you--because you have seemed to +me so much above the mere society woman that I---I---" + +"I know!" she said, very softly--"I quite see your point of view!" + +"You are not of the modern world,"--he went on, slowly--"Not in your +heart--not in your real tastes and sentiments;--not yet, though you +may possibly be forced to become one with it after your marriage---" + +"And when will that be?" she interrupted him smiling. + +His clear, calm blue eyes rested upon her gravely and searchingly. + +"Soon surely,--if report be true!" + +"Really? Well, you ought to know whether the date has been fixed +yet,"--she said, very demurely--"Because, of course YOU'LL have to +marry me!" + +Something swayed and rocked in John's brain, making the ground he +stood upon swerve and seem unsteady. A wave of colour flushed his +bronzed face up to the very roots of his grey-brown hair. Maryllia +watched him with prettily critical interest, much as a kitten +watches the rolling out of a ball of worsted on which it has just +placed its little furry paw. Hurriedly he sought in his mind for +something to say. + +"I---I---don't quite understand,"--he murmured. + +"Don't you?" and she smiled upon him blandly--"Surely you wouldn't +expect me to be married in any church but yours, or by any clergyman +but you?" + +"Oh, I see!" And Maryllia mentally commented--'So do I!'--while he +heaved a sigh unconsciously, but whether of relief or pain it was +impossible to tell. Looking up, he met her eyes,--so deep and blue, +so strangely compassionate and tender! A faint smile trembled on her +lips. + +"Good-night, Mr. Walden!" + +"Good-night!" he said; then suddenly yielding to the emotion which +mastered him, he made one swift step to her side--"You will forgive +me, I know!--you will think of me presently with kindness, and with +patience for my old-fashioned ways!--and you will do me the justice +to believe that if I seemed rude to your guests, as you say I was, +it was all for your sake!--because I thought you deserved more +respect from them than that they should smoke in your presence,--and +also, because I felt--I could not help feeling that if your father +had been alive he would not have allowed them to do so,--he would +have been too precious of you,--too careful that nothing of an +indecorous or unwomanly nature should ever be associated with you;-- +and--and--I spoke as I did because it seemed to me that someone +SHOULD speak!--someone of years and authority, who from the point of +experience alone, might defend you from the contact of modern +vulgarity;--so--so--I said the first words that came to me--just as +your father might have said them!--yes!--just as your father might +have spoken,--for you--you know you seem little more than a child to +me!--I am so much older than you are, God help me!" + +Stooping, he caught her hands and kissed them with a passion of +which he was entirely unconscious,--then turned swiftly from her and +was gone. + +She stood where he had left her, trembling a little, but with a +startled radiance in her eyes that made them doubly beautiful. She +was pale to the lips;--her hands,--the hands he had kissed, were +burning. Suddenly, on an impulse which she could not have explained +to herself, she ran swiftly out of the picture-gallery and into the +hall where,--as the great oaken door stood open to the summer +night,--she could see the whole flower-garlanded square of the Tudor +court, gleaming like polished silver in the intense radiance of the +moon. John Walden was walking quickly across it,--she watched him, +and saw him all at once pause near the old stone dial which at this +season of the year was almost hidden by the clambering white roses +that grew around it. He took off his hat and passed his hand over +his brows with an air of dejection and fatigue,--the moonlight fell +full on the clear contour of his features,--and she drew herself and +her sparkling draperies well back into the deep shadow of the portal +lest he should catch a glimpse of her, and, perhaps,--so seeing her, +return-- + +"And that would never do!" she thought, with a little tremor of fear +running through her which was unaccountably delicious;--"I'm sure it +wouldn't!--not to-night!" + +The air was very warm and sultry,--all the windows of the Manor were +thrown open for coolness,--and through those of the drawing-room +came the lovely vibrations of Cicely's pure fresh voice. She was +singing an enchanting melody on which some words of Julian +Adderley's, simple and quaint, without having any claim to +particular poetic merit, floated clearly with distinct and perfect +enunciation-- + + "A little rose on a young rose-tree + Shed all its crimson blood for me, + Drop by drop on the dewy grass, + Its petals fell, and its life did pass; + Oh little rose on the young rose-tree, + Why did you shed your blood for me? + + "A nightingale in a tall pine-tree + Broke its heart in a song for me, + Singing, with moonbeams around it spread, + It fluttered, and fell at my threshold, dead;-- + Oh nightingale in the tall pine-tree, + Why did you break your heart for me? + + "A lover of ladies, bold and free, + Challenged the world to a fight for me, + But I scorn'd his love in a foolish pride, + And, sword in hand, he fighting died! + Oh lover of ladies, bold and free, + Why did you lose your life for me?" + +And again, with plaintive insistence, the last two lines were +repeated, ringing out on the deep stillness of the summer night-- + + "Oh lover of ladies, told and free, + Why did you lose yowr life for me?" + +The song ceased with a clash of chords. It was followed by a subdued +clapping of hands,--a pause of silence--and then a renewed murmur of +conversation. Walden looked up as if suddenly startled from a +reverie, and resumed his quick pace across the courtyard,--and +Maryllia, seeing him go, advanced a little more into the gleaming +moonlight to follow him with her eyes till he should quite +disappear. + +"Upon my word, a very quaint little comedy!" said a coldly mocking +voice behind her--"A modern Juliet gazing pathetically after the +retiring form of a somewhat elderly clerical Romeo! Let me +congratulate you, Miss Maryllia, on your newest and most brilliant +achievement,--the conquest of a country parson! It is quite worthy +of you!" + +And turning, she confronted Lord Roxmouth. + + + + +XXIV + + +For a moment they looked at each other. The smile on Roxmouth's face +widened. + +"Come, come, Maryllia!" he said, easily--"Don't be foolish! The airs +of a tragedy queen do not suit you. I assure you I haven't the least +objection to your amusing yourself with a parson, if you like! The +conversation in the picture-gallery just now was quite idyllic--all +about a cigarette and Psyche! Really it was most absurd!--and the +little sermon of the enamoured clergyman to his pretty penitent was +as unique as it was priggish. I'm sure you must have been vastly +entertained! And the final allusion he made to his age--THAT was a +masterstroke of pathos!--or bathos? Which? Du sublime au ridicule il +n'y'a qu'un pas, Madame!" + +Her eyes were fixed unswervingly upon him. + +"So you listened!" she said. + +"Naturally! One always listens to a comedy if it is played well. +I've been listening all the evening. I've listened to your waif and +stray, Cicely Bourne, and am perfectly willing to admit that she is +worth the training you are giving her. It's the first time I've +heard her sing to advantage. I've listened to Eva Beaulyon's +involved explanation of a perfectly unworkable scheme for the +education of country yokels (who never do anything with education +when they get it), on which she is going to extract twenty thousand +pounds for herself from the pockets of her newest millionaire- +victim. I've listened to the Bludlip Courtenay woman's enthusiastic +description of a new specific for the eradication of wrinkles and +crowsfeet. I've listened to that old bore Sir Morton Pippitt, and to +the afflicting county gossip of the lady in green,--Miss +Ittlethwaite is her name, I believe. And, getting tired of these +things, I strolled towards the picture-gallery, and hearing your +delightful voice, listened there. I confess I heard more than I +expected!" + +Without a word in response, she turned from him and began to move +away. He stretched out a hand and caught her sleeve. + +"Maryllia, wait! I must speak to you--and I may as well say what I +have to say now and get it over." + +She paused. Lifting her eyes she glanced at him with a look of utter +scorn and contempt. He laughed. + +"Come out into the moonlight!"--he said--"Come and walk with me in +this romantic old courtyard. It suits you, and you suit it. You are +very pretty, Maryllia! May I--notwithstanding the parson--smoke?" + +She said nothing. Drawing a leather case from his pocket, he took a +cigar out and lit it. + +"Silence gives consent,"--he went on--"Besides I'm sure you don't +mind. You know plenty of men who can never talk comfortably without +puffing smoke in between whiles. I'm one of that sort. Don't look at +me like Cleopatra deprived of Marc Antony. Be reasonable! I only +want to say a few plain matter-of-fact words to you---" + +"Say them then as quickly as possible, please,"--she replied--"I am +NOT a good listener!" + +"No? Now I should have thought you were, judging by the patience +with which you endured the parson's general discursiveness. What a +superb night!" He stepped from the portal out on the old flagstones +of the courtyard. "Take just one turn with me, Maryllia!" + +Quietly, and with an air of cold composure she came to him, and +walked slowly at his side. He looked at her covertly, yet +critically. + +"I won't make love to you,"--he said presently, with a smile-- +"because you tell me you don't like it. I will merely put a case +before you and ask for your opinion! Have I your permission?" + +She bent her head slightly. Her throat was dry,--her heart was +beating painfully,--she knew Roxmouth's crafty and treacherous +nature, and her whole soul sickened as she realised that now he +could, if he chose, drag the name of John Walden through a mire of +social mud, and hold it up to ridicule among his own particular +'set,' who would certainly lose no time in blackening it with their +ever-ready tar-brush. And it was all through her--all through her! +How would she ever forgive herself if his austere and honourable +reputation were touched in ever so slight a degree by a breath of +scandal? Unconsciously, she clasped her little hands and wrung them +hard--Roxmouth saw the action, and quickly fathomed the inward +suffering it indicated. + +"You know my dearest ambition,"--he went on,--"and I need not +emphasise it. It is to call you my wife. If you consent to marry me, +you take at once a high position in the society to which you +naturally belong. But you tell me I am detestable to you--and that +you would rather die than accept me as a husband. I confess I do not +understand your attitude,--and, if you will allow me to say so, I +hardly think you understand it yourself. You are in a state of +uncertainty--most women live always in that state;--and your +vacillating soul like a bewildered butterfly--you see I am copying +the clerical example by dropping into poetry!--and a butterfly, NOT +a cigarette, is I believe the correct emblem of Psyche,--" here he +took a whiff at his cigar, and smiled pleasantly--"your soul, I +repeat, like a bewildered butterfly, has lighted by chance on a +full-flowering parson. The flight--the pause on that maturely-grown +blossom of piety, is pardonable,--but I cannot contemplate with +pleasure the idea of your compromising your name with that of this +sentimental middle-aged individual who, though he may be an +excellent Churchman, would make rather a grotesque lover!" + +She remained silent. Glancing sideways at her, he wondered whether +it was the moonlight that made her look so set and pale. + +"But I said I would put a case before you,"--he continued, "and I +will. Here are you,--of an age to be married. Here am I,--anxious to +marry you. We are neither of us growing younger--and delay seems +foolish. I offer you all I am worth in the world--myself, my name +and my position. You have refused me a score of times, and I am not +discouraged--you refuse me still, and I am not baffled. But I ask +why? I am not deformed or idiotic. I would try to make you happy. A +woman is best when she has entirely her own way,--I would let you +have yours. You would be free to follow your own whims and caprices. +Provided you gave me lawful heirs, I should ask no more of you. No +reasonable man ought to ask more of any reasonable woman. Life could +be made very enjoyable to us both, with a little tact and sense on +either side. I should amuse myself in the world, and so I hope, +would you. We understand modern life and appreciate its +conveniences. The freedom of the matrimonial state is one of those +conveniences, of which I am sure we should equally take advantage." + +He puffed at his cigar for a few minutes complacently. + +"You profess to hate me,"--he went on--"Again I ask, why? You tell +your aunt that you want to be 'loved.' You consider love the only +lasting good of life. Well, you have your desire. _I_ love you!" + +She raised her eyes,--and then suddenly laughed. + +"You!" she said--"You 'love' me? It must be a very piecemeal sort of +love, then, for I know at least five women to whom you have said the +same thing!" + +He was in nowise disconcerted. + +"Only five!" he murmured lazily--"Why not ten--or twenty? The more +the merrier! Women delight in bragging of conquests they have never +made, as why should they not? Lying comes so naturally to them! But +I do not profess to be a saint,--I daresay I have said 'I love you' +to a hundred women in a certain fashion,--but not as I say it to +you. When I say it to you, I mean it." + +"Mean what?" she asked. + +"Love." + +She stopped in her walk and faced him. + +"When a man loves a woman--really loves her,"--she said, "Does he +persecute her? Does he compromise her in society? Does he try to +scandalise her among her friends? Does he whisper her name away on a +false rumour, and accuse her of running after him for his title, +while all the time he knows it is he himself that is running after +her money? Does he make her life a misery to her, and leave her no +peace anywhere, not even in her own house? Does he spy upon her, and +set others to do the same?--does he listen at doors and interrogate +servants as to her movements--and does he altogether play the +dastardly traitor to prove his 'love'?" + +Her voice shook--her eyes were ablaze with indignation. Roxmouth +flicked a little ash off his cigar. + +"Why, of course not!" he replied--"But who does these dreadful +things? Are they done at all except in your imagination?" + +"YOU do them!" said Maryllia, passionately--"And you have always +done them! When I tell you once and for all that I have given up +every chance I ever had of being my aunt's heiress--that I shall +never be a rich woman,--and that I would far rather die a beggar +than be your wife, will you not understand me?--will you not leave +me alone?" + +He looked at her with quizzical amusement. + +"Do you really want to be left alone?" he asked--"Or in a 'solitude +a deux'--with the parson?" + +She was silent, though her silence cost her an effort. But she knew +that the least word she might say concerning Walden would be +wilfully misconstrued. She knew that Roxmouth was waiting for her to +burst out with some indignant denial of his suggestions--something +that he might twist and turn in his own fashion and repeat +afterwards to all his and her acquaintances. She cared nothing for +herself, but she was full of dread lest Walden's name should be +bandied up and down on the scurrilous tongues of that 'upper class' +throng, who, because they spend their lives in nothing nobler than +political intrigue and sensual indulgence, are politely set aside as +froth and scum by the saner, cleaner world, and classified as the +'Smart Set.' Roxmouth watched her furtively. His clear-cut face, +white skin and sandy hair shone all together with an oily lustre in +the moonlight;--there was a hard cold gleam in his eyes. + +"It would be a pretty little story for the society press," he said, +after a pause--"How the bewitching Maryllia Vancourt resigned the +brilliancy of her social life for a dream of love with an elderly +country clergyman! By Heaven! No one would believe it! But,"--and he +waited a minute, then continued--"It's a story that shall never be +told so far as I am concerned--if--" He broke off, and looked +meditatively at the end of his cigar. "There is always an 'if'-- +unfortunately!" + +Maryllia smiled coldly. + +"That is a threat,"--she said--"But it does not affect me! Nothing +that you can do or say will make me consent to marry you. You have +slandered me already--you can slander me again for all I care. But I +will never be your wife." + +"You have said so before,"--he observed, placidly--"And I have put +the question many times--why?" + +She looked at him steadily. + +"Shall I tell you?" + +"Do! I shall appreciate the favour!" + +For a moment she hesitated. A great pain and sorrow clouded her +eyes. + +"No woman marries a leper by choice!"--she said at last, slowly. + +He glanced at her,--then shrugged his shoulders. + +"You talk in parables. Pardon me if I am too dull to understand +you!" + +"You understand me well enough,"--she answered--"But if you wish it, +I will speak more plainly. I dream of love---" + +"Most women do!" he interrupted her, smilingly--"And I am sure you +dream charmingly. But is a middle-aged parson part of the romantic +vision?" + +She paid no heed to this sarcasm. She had moved a pace or two away +from him, and now stood, her head slightly uplifted, her eyes turned +wistfully towards the picturesque gables of the Manor outlined +clearly in the moon against the dense night sky. + +"I dream of love!"--she repeated softly,--while he, smoking +tranquilly, and looking the very image of a tailor's model in his +faultlessly cut dress suit, spotless shirt front, and aggressively +neat white tie, studied her face, her figure and her attitude with +amused interest--"But my dream is not what the world offers me as +the dream's realisation! The love that I mean--the love that I seek- +-the love that I want--the love that I will have,"--and she raised +her hand involuntarily with a slight gesture which almost implied a +command--"or else go loveless all my days--is an honest love,-- +loyal, true and pure!--and strong enough to last through this life +and all the lives to come!" + +"If there are any!"--interpolated Roxmouth, blandly. + +She looked at him,--and a vague expression of something like +physical repulsion flitted across her face. + +"It is no use talking to you,"--she said--"For you believe in +nothing--not even in God! You are a man of your own making--you are +not a man in the true sense of manhood. How can you know anything of +love? You will not find it in the low haunts of Paris where you are +so well known,--where your name is a byword as that of an English +'milord' who degrades his Order!" + +"What do YOU know of the low haunts of Paris?" he queried with a +cold laugh--"Is Louis Gigue your informant?' + +"I daresay Louis Gigue knows as much of you as most men do,"--she +replied, quietly--"But I never speak of you to him. Indeed, I never +speak of you at all unless you are spoken of, and not always then. +You do not interest me sufficiently!" + +She moved towards the house. He followed her. + +"Your remarks have been somewhat rambling and disjointed,"--he said- +-"But essentially feminine, after all. And they merely tend to one +thing--that you are still an untamed shrew!" + +She looked back at him over her shoulder. Her eyes gleamed in the +moonlight,--a faint smile curved her pretty mouth. + +"If I am, it will need someone braver than you are to tame me!" she +said--"A trickster is always a coward!" + +With an angry exclamation he flung away the end of his cigar,--it +fell into a harmless bed of mignonette and seared the sweet blossom, +burning redly in the green like a wicked eye. And then he caught her +hand firmly and held it grasped as in a vice. + +"You insult me!" he said, thickly--"And I shall not forget it! You +talk as a child talks--though you are no child! You are a woman of +the world--you have travelled--you have had experience--and you know +men. You are perfectly aware that the sentimental 'love' you speak +of exists nowhere except in poems and story-books--you know that no +sane man alive would tie himself to one woman save for the law's +demand that his heirs shall be lawfully born. You are no shrinking +maid in her teens, that you should start and recoil or blush, at the +truth of the position, and it is the merest affectation on your part +to talk about 'love lasting forever,' for you are perfectly aware +that it cannot last very long over the honeymoon. The natural state +of man is polygamous. Englishmen are the same as Turks or Hottentots +in this respect, except for the saving grace of hypocrisy, which is +the chief prop of European civilisation. If it were not for +hypocrisy, we should all be savages as utterly and completely as in +primaeval days! You know all this as well as I do--and yet you feign +to desire the impossible, while all the time you play the fool with +a country parson! But I'll make you pay for it--by Heaven, I will! +You scorn me and my name--you call me a social leper---" + +"You are one!" she said, wrenching her hand from his clasp--"And +what is more, you know it, and you glory in it! Who are your +associates? Men who are physically or morally degenerate--women who, +so long as their appetites are satisfied, seek nothing more! You +play the patron to a certain literary 'set' who produce books unfit +to be read by any decent human being,--you work your way, by means +of your title and position, through society, contaminating +everything you touch! You contaminate ME by associating my name with +yours!--and my aunt helps you in the wicked scheme! I came here to +my own home--to the house where my father died--thinking that +perhaps here at least I should find peace,"--and her voice shook as +with tears--"that here, at least, the old walls might give me +shelter and protection!--but even here you followed me with your +paid spy, Marius Longford--and I have found myself surrounded by +your base tools almost despite myself! But even if you try to hound +me into my grave, I will never marry you! I would rather die a +hundred times over than be your wife!" + +His face flushed a dark red, and he suddenly made an though he would +seize her in his arms. She retreated swiftly. + +"Do not touch me!" she said, in a low, strained voice--"It will be +the worse for you if you do!" + +"The worse for me--or for YOU?" he muttered fiercely,--then +regaining his composure, he burst into an angry laugh. "Bah! You are +nothing but a woman! You fling aside what you have, and pine for +what you have not! The old, old story! The eternal feminine!" + +She made no reply, but moved on towards the house. "Quel +ravissement de la lune!" exclaimed a deep guttural voice at this +juncture, and Louis Gigue came out from the dark embrasure of the +Manor's oaken portal into the full splendour of the moonlight--"Et +la belle Mademoiselle Vancourt is ze adorable fantome of ze night! +Et milord Roxmouth ze what-you-call?--ze gnome!--ze shadow of ze +lumiere! Ha-ha! C'est joli, zat little chanson of ze little rose- +tree! Ze music, c'est une inspiration de Cicely--and ze words are +not so melancolique as ze love-songs made ordinairement en +Angleterre! Oui--oui!--c'est joli!" + +He turned his shrewd old face up to the sky, and blinked at the dim +stars,--there was a smile under his grizzled moustache. He had +interrupted the conversation between his hostess and her +objectionable wooer precisely at the right moment, and he knew it. +Roxmouth's pale face grew a shade paler, but he made a very good +assumption of perfect composure, and taking out his case of cigars +offered one to Gigue, who cheerfully accepted it. Then he lit one +for himself with a hand that trembled slightly. Maryllia, pausing on +the step of the porch as she was about to enter, turned her head +back towards him for a moment. + +"Are you staying long at Badsworth Hall?" she asked. + +"About a fortnight or three weeks,"--he answered carelessly, "Mr. +Longford is doing some literary work and needs the quiet of the +country--and Sir Morton Pippitt is good enough to wish us to extend +our visit." + +He smiled as he spoke. She said nothing further, but slowly passed +into the house. Gigue at once began to walk up and down the +courtyard, smoking vigorously, and talking volubly concerning the +future of his pupil Cicely Bourne, and the triumph she would make +some two years hence as a 'prima donna assoluta,' far greater than +Patti ever was in her palmiest days,--and Roxmouth was perforce +compelled, out of civility, as well as immediate diplomacy, to +listen to him with some show of interest. + +"Do you think an artistic career a good thing for a woman?" he +asked, with a slight touch of satire in his voice as he put the +question. + +Gigue glanced up at him quickly and comprehendingly. + +"Ah, bah! Pour une femme il n'y'a qu'une chose--l'Amour!" he +replied--"Mais--au meme temps--l'Art c'est mieux qu'un mariage de +convenance!" + +Roxmouth shrugged his shoulders deprecatingly, smiled tolerantly, +and changed the subject. + +That same evening, when everyone had retired to bed, and when Mrs. +Bludlip Courtenay was carefully taking off her artistically woven +'real hair' eyebrows and putting them by in a box for the night, +Lady Beaulyon, arrayed in a marvellous 'deshabille' of lace and pale +blue satin, which would have been called by the up-to-date modiste +'a dream of cerulean sweetness,' came into her room with dejection +visibly written on her photographically valuable features. + +"It's all over, Pipkin!" she said, with a sigh,--Pipkin was the +poetic pet-name by which the 'beauty' of the press-paragraphist +addressed her Ever-Youthful friend,--"We shall never get a penny out +of Mrs. Fred Vancourt. Maryllia is a mule! She has told me as +plainly as politeness will allow her to do that she does not intend +to know either you or me any more after we have left here--and you +know we're off to-morrow. So to-morrow ends the acquaintance. That +girl's 'cheek' is beyond words! One would think she was an empress, +instead of being a little bounder with only an old Manor-house and +certainly not more than two thousand a year in her own right!" + +'Pipkin' stared. That she was destitute of eyebrows, save for a few +iron-grey bristles where eyebrows should have been, and that her +beautiful Titian hair was lying dishevelled on her dressing table, +were facts entirely lost sight of in the stupefaction of the moment. + +"Maryllia Vancourt does not intend to know US!" she ejaculated,-- +"Nonsense, Eva! The girl must be mad!" + +"Mad or sane, that's what she says,"--and Eva Beaulyon turned away +from the spectacle of her semi-bald and eyebrow-less confidante with +a species of sudden irritation and repulsion--"She declares we are +in the pay of her aunt and Lord Roxmouth. So we are, more or less! +And what does it matter! Money must be had--and whatever way there +is of getting it should be taken. I laughed at her, and told her +quite frankly that I would do anything for money,--flatter a +millionaire one day and cut him the next, if I could get cheques for +doing both. How in the world should I get on without money?--or you +either! But she is an incorrigible little idiot--talks about honour +and principle exactly like some mediaeval story-book. She declares +she will never speak to either of us again after we've gone away to- +morrow. Of course we can easily reverse the position and turn the +tables upon her by saying we will not speak to her again. That will +be easy enough--for I believe she's after the parson." + +Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay's eyes lightened with malignity. + +"What, that man who objected to our smoke?" + +Lady Beaulyon nodded. + +"And I think Roxmouth sees it!"--she added. + +'Pipkin' looked weirdly meditative and curiously wizened for a +moment. Then she suddenly laughed and clapped her hands. + +"That will do!" she exclaimed--"That's quite good enough for US! +Mrs. Fred will pay for THAT information! Don't you see?" + +Lady Beaulyon shook her head. + +"Don't you? Well, wait till we get back to town!"--and 'Pipkin' took +up her false hair and shook it gently, as she spoke--"We can do +wonders--wonders, I tell you, Eva! And till we go, we'll be as nice +to the girl as we can,--go off good friends and all that sort of +thing--tell her how much we've enjoyed ourselves--thank her +profusely,--and then once away we'll tell Mrs. Fred all about John +Walden, and leave her to do as she likes with the story. That will +be quite enough! If Maryllia has any sneaking liking for the man, +she'll do anything to save HIS name if she doesn't care about saving +her own!" + +"Oh, I see now!" and Lady Beaulyon's eyes sparkled up with a gleam +of malice--"Yes--I quite understand!" + +'Pipkin' danced about the room in ecstasy,--she was half undressed +for the night, and showed a pair of exceedingly thin old legs under +an exceedingly short young petticoat. + +"Maryllia Vancourt and a country parson!" she exclaimed, "The whole +thing is TOO delicious! Go to bed, Eva! Get your beauty sleep or +you'll have ever so many more wrinkles than you need! Good-night, +dearest! If Maryllia declines to know US, we shall soon find +excellent reasons for not knowing HER! Good-night!" + +With a shrill little laugh, the lady kissed her dear friend +affectionately--and if the caress was not returned with very great +fervour, it may be presumed that this coldness was due more to the +unlovely impression created by the night 'toilette' of the Ever- +Youthful one, than anything else. Anyway the two social schemers +parted on the most cordial terms, and retired to their several +couches with an edifying sense of virtue pervading them both morally +and physically. + +And while they and others in the Manor were sleeping, Maryllia lay +broad awake, watching the moonbeams creeping about her room like +thin silver threads, interlacing every object in a network of pale +luminance,--and listening to the slow tick-tock of the rusty +timepiece in the courtyard which said, 'Give all--take nothing-- +give--all--take--no--thing!'--with such steady and monotonous +persistence. She was sad yet happy,--perplexed, yet peaceful;--she +had decided on her own course of action, and though that course +involved some immediate vexation and inconvenience to herself, she +was satisfied that it was the only one possible to adopt under the +irritating circumstances by which she was hemmed in and surrounded. + +"It will be best for everyone concerned,"--she said, with a sigh-- +"Of course it upsets all my plans and spoils my whole summer,--but +it is the only thing to do--the wisest and safest, both for--for Mr. +Walden--and for me. I should be a very poor friend if I could not +sacrifice myself and my own pleasure to save him from possible +annoyance,--and though it is a little hard--yes!--it IS hard!--it +can't be helped, and I must go through with it. 'Home, Home, sweet +Home!' Yes--dear old Home!--you shall not be darkened by a shadow of +deceit or treachery if _I_ can prevent it!--and for the present, my +way is the only way!" + +One or two tears glittered on her long lashes when she at last fell +into a light slumber, and the old pendulum's rusty voice croaking +out: 'Give all--take no--thing' echoed hoarsely through her dreams +like a harsh command which it was more or less difficult to obey. +But life, as we all know, is not made up of great events so much as +of irritating trifles,--poor, wretched, apparently insignificant +trifles, which, nevertheless do so act upon our destinies sometimes +as to put everything out of gear, and make havoc and confusion where +there should be nothing but peace. It was the merest trifle that Sir +Morton Pippitt should have brought his 'distinguished guests,' +including Marius Longford, to see John Walden's church--and also +have taken him to visit Maryllia in her own home;--it was equally +trifling that Longford, improving on the knightly Bone-Melter's +acquaintance, should have chosen to import Lord Roxmouth into the +neighbourhood through the convenient precincts of Badsworth Hall;-- +it was a trifle that Maryllia should have actually believed in the +good faith of two women who had formerly entertained her at their +own houses and whose hospitality she was anxious to return;--and it +was a trifle that John Walden should, so to speak, have made a +conventionally social 'slip' in his protest against smoking women;-- +but there the trifles stopped. Maryllia knew well enough that only +the very strongest feeling, the very deepest and most intense +emotion could have made the quiet, self-contained 'man o' God' as +Mrs. Spruce called him, speak to her as he had done,--and she also +knew that only the most bitter malice and cruel under-intent to do +mischief could have roused Roxmouth, usually so coldly self-centred, +to the white heat of wrath which had blazed out of him that evening. +Between these two men she stood--a quite worthless object of regard, +so she assured herself,--through her, one of them was like to have +his name torn to shreds in the foul mouths of up-to-date salacious +slanderers,--and likewise through her, the other was prepared and +ready to commit himself to any kind of lie, any sort of treachery, +in order to gain his own interested ends. Small wonder that tears +rose to her eyes even in sleep--and that in an uneasy and confused +dream she saw John Walden standing in his garden near the lilac-tree +from which he had once given her a spray,--and that he turned upon +her a sad white face, furrowed with pain and grief, while he said in +weary accents--"Why have you troubled my peace? I was so happy till +you came!" And she cried out--"Oh, let me go away! No one wants me! +I have never been loved much in all my life--but I am loving enough +not to wish to give pain to my friends--let me go away from my dear +old home and never come back again, rather than make you wretched!" + +And then with a cry she awoke, shivering and half-sobbing, to feel +herself the loneliest of little mortals--to long impotently for her +father's touch, her father's kiss,--to pray to that dimly-radiant +phantom of her mother's loveliness which was pictured on her brain, +and anon to stretch out her pretty rounded arms with a soft cry of +mingled tenderness and pain--"Oh, I am so sorry!--so sorry for HIM! +I know he is unhappy!--and it's all my fault! I wish--I wish---" + +But what she wished she could not express, even to herself. Her +sensitive nature was keenly alive to every slight impression of +kindness or of coldness;--and the intense longing for love, which +had been the pulse of her inmost being since her earliest infancy, +and which had filled her with such passionate devotion to her father +that her grief at his loss had been almost abnormally profound and +despairing, made her feel poignantly every little incident which +emphasised, or seemed to emphasise, her own utter loneliness in the +world; and she was just now strung up to such a nervous tension, +that she would almost have consented to wed Lord Roxmouth if by so +doing she could have saved any possible mischief occurring to John +Walden through Roxmouth's malignancy. But the shuddering physical +repulsion she felt at the bare contemplation of such a marriage was +too strong for her. + +"Anything but that!"--she said to herself, with something of a +prayer--"O dear God!--anything but that!" + +Sometimes God hears these little petitions which are not of the +orthodox Church. Sometimes, as it seems, by a strange chance, the +cry of a helpless and innocent soul does reach that vast Profound +where all the secrets of life and destiny lie hidden in mysterious +embryo. And thus it happens that across the din and bustle of our +petty striving and restless disquietudes there is struck a sudden +great silence, by way of answer,--sometimes it is the silence of +Death which ends all sorrow,--sometimes it is the sweeter silence of +Love which turns sorrow into joy. + +Next day all the guests at the Manor had departed with the exception +of three--Louis Gigue, and the 'Sisters Gemini,' namely, Lady +Wicketts and Miss Fosby. With much gush and gratitude for a +'charming stay--a delightful time!' Lady Beaulyon and Mrs. Bludlip +Courtenay took leave of their 'dear Maryllia,' who received their +farewells and embraces with an irresponsively civil coldness. Lord +Charlemont and Mr. Bludlip Courtenay 'motored' to London, +undertaking with each other to keep up a speed of fifty miles an +hour, provided there were not too many hills and not too much +'slowing down' for the benefit of unexpected policemen round +corners. And at sunset, a pleasant peace and stillness settled on +the Manor grounds, erstwhile disturbed by groups of restless persons +walking aimlessly to and fro,--persons who picked flowers merely to +throw them away again, and played tennis and croquet only to become +quarrelsome and declare that the weather was much too hot for games. +Everybody that was anybody had gone their ways,--and within her own +domicile Mrs. Spruce breathed capaciously and freely, and said in +confidence to the cook and to Primmins: + +"Thank the Lord an' His mercies, that's all over! An' from what I +hears, Miss Maryllia won't be wantin' no more London folks for a +goodish bit o' time, an' we'll all 'ave peace to turn round an' look +at ourselves an' find out whether we're sane or silly, for the two +old leddies what is stayin' on give no trouble at all, an' that Mr. +Gigg don't care what he gets, so long as he can bang away on the +pianner an' make Miss Cicely sing, an' I will own she do sing lovely +like the angels in a 'evenly 'ost, but there!--_I_ don't want no +more company, for what with French maids an' valets, all talkin' the +wickedest stuff I ever heard about the ways an' doins o' their +masters an' missises in London, I'm downright glad to be rid o' the +whole lot! For do what we will, there is limits to patience, an' a +peaceful life is what suits me best not knowin' for the past three +weeks whether my 'ead or my 'eels is uppermost with the orderin' an' +messin' about, though I will say Miss Maryllia knows what's what, +an' ain't never in a fuss nor muddle, keepin' all wages an' bills +paid reg'lar like a hoffice clerk, mebbe better, for one never knows +whether clerks pays out what they're told or keeps some by in their +own pockets, honesty not bein' always policy with the likes o' they. +Anyway 'ere we are all alive an' none the worse for the bustle, +which is a mercy, an' now mebbe we'll have time to think a bit as we +go, an' stop worrittin' over plates an' dishes an' glass an' silver, +which, say what we like, do sit on one like a burden when there's a +many to serve. A bit o' quiet 'ull do us all good!" + +The 'quiet' she thus eulogised was to be longer and lonelier than +she imagined, but of this she knew nothing. The whole house was +delightfully tranquil after the departure of the visitors, and the +spirit of a grateful repose seemed to have imparted itself to its +few remaining occupants. Louis Gigue played wonderful improvisations +on the piano that evening, and Cicely sang so brilliantly and +ravishingly that had she then stood on the boards of the Paris Grand +Opera, she would have created a wild 'furore.' Lady Wicketts knitted +placidly; she was making a counterpane, which no doubt someone would +reluctantly decide to sleep under--and Miss Fosby embroidered a +cushion cover for Lady Wicketts, who already possessed many of these +articles wrought by the same hand. Maryllia occupied herself in +writing many letters,--and all was peace. Nothing in any way +betokened a change, or suggested the slightest interruption to the +sun-lighted serenity of the long, lovely summer days. + + + + +XXV + + +Whatever the feelings of John Walden were concerning the incidents +that had led him to more or less give himself away, as the saying +goes, into Maryllia's hands, he remained happily unconscious of the +fact that Lord Roxmouth had overheard his interview with her in the +picture-gallery--and being a man who never brooded over his own +particular small vexations and annoyances, he had determined, as far +as might be possible, to put the whole incident behind him, as it +were, and try to forget it. Of course he knew he never could forget +it,--he knew that the sweet look in Maryllia's eyes--the little +appealing touch of her hand on his arm, would be perchance the most +vivid impressions of his life till that life should be ended. But it +was useless to dwell with heart-aching persistence on her +fascination, or on what he now called his own utter foolishness, and +he was glad that he had arranged to visit his old friend Bishop +Brent, as this enabled him to go away at once for three or four +days. And it was possible, so he argued with himself, that this +three or four days' break of the magnetic charm that had, against +his own wish and will, enslaved his thoughts and senses, would +restore him to that state of self-poise and philosophic tranquillity +in which he had for so many years found an almost, if not quite, +perfect happiness. Bracing himself fully up to the determination +that he would, at all hazards, make an effort to recover his lost +peace, he made rapid preparations for his departure from St. Rest, +and going the round of his parish, he let all whom it might concern +know, that for the first time in a long ten years, he was about to +take two or three days' holiday. The announcement was received by +some with good-natured surprise--by others with incredulity--but by +most, with the usual comfortable resignation to circumstances which +is such a prevailing characteristic of the rustic mind. + +"It'll do ye good, Passon, that it will!" said Mrs. Frost, in her +high acidulated voice, which by dint of constant scolding and +screaming after her young family had become almost raspish--"For +you're looking that white about the gills that it upsets my mind to +see it. I sez to Adam onny t'other day, 'You'll be diggin' a grave +for Passon presently--see if you don't--for he's runnin' downhill as +fast as a loaded barrow with naught ahint it.' That's what I said, +Passon--an' its Gospel true!" + +Walden smiled. + +"You're quite right, Mrs. Frost,"--he said, patiently--"I am +certainly going downhill, as you say--but I must try to put a little +check on the wheels! There's one thing to be said about it, if Adam +digs my grave, as it is likely he will, I know he will do it better +than any other sexton in the county! I shall sleep in it well, and +securely!" + +Mrs. Frost felt a certain sense of pride in this remark. + +"You may say that, Passon--you may say that and not be fur wrong,"-- +she said, complacently--"Adam don't do much, but what he doos is +well done, an' there's no mistake about it. If I 'adn't a known 'im +to be a 'andy man in his trade he wouldn't 'a had me to wife, I do +assure you!" + +Walden smiled and passed on. To Mr. Netlips, the grocer, he confided +a few orders for the household supplies during his absence, which +that worthy and sapient personage accepted with due attention. + +"It is a demonstrable dispensation, Mr. Walden, sir,"--he said, +"that you should be preparing yourself for locomotion at the moment +when the house-party at the Manor is also severed indistinguishably. +There is no one there now, so my imparted information relates, with +the exception of her ladyship Wicketts, a Miss Fosby and a hired +musician from the cells of the professional caterer, named Gigg." + +Walden's eyes twinkled. He was always very indulgent to Mr. Netlips, +and rather encouraged him than otherwise in his own special flow of +language. + +"Really!" he said--"And so they are all gone! I'm afraid it will +make a difference to your trade, Mr. Netlips! How about your Petrol +storage?" + +Mr. Netlips smiled, with a comfortable air of self-conscious wisdom. + +"It has been absorbed--quite absorbed," he said, complacently--"The +board of announcement was prospective, not penetrative. Orders were +consumed in rotation, and his lordship Charlemont was the last +applicant on the formula." + +"I see!" said Walden--"So you are no loser by the transaction. I'm +glad to hear it! Good-day! I only intend to be away a short time. +You will scarcely miss me,--as I shall occupy my usual post on +Sunday." + +"Your forethought, Mr. Walden, sir, is of a most high +complication,"--rejoined Mr. Netlips with a gracious bend of his fat +neck--"And it is not to be regretted by the profane that you should +rotate with the world, provided you are seen in strict adhesion to +the pulpit on the acceptable seventh day. Otherwise, it is but +natural that you should preamble for health's sake. You have been +looking poorly, Mr. Walden sir, of late; I trust you will +beneficially profit by change." + +Walden thanked him, and went his way. His spirits were gradually +rising--he was relieved to hear that Maryllia's house-party had +broken up and dispersed, and he cogitated within himself as to +whether he should go and say good-bye to her before leaving the +village, or just let things remain as they were. He was a little +uncertain as to which was the wisest course to adopt,--and while he +was yet thinking about it he passed the cottage of old Josey +Letherbarrow, and saw the old man sitting at his door peacefully +smoking, while at his feet, Ipsie Frost was curled up comfortably +like a kitten, busying herself in tying garlands of ivy and +honeysuckle round the tops of his big coarsely-laced boots. Pausing, +John leaned on the gate and looked at the two with a smile. + +"Ullo, Passon!" said Ipsie, turning her blue eyes up at him with a +confidential air--"Tum an' tie up my Zozey-Posey! Zozey-Posey's bin +naughty,--he's dot to be tied up so he tan't move!" + +"And when he's good again, what then?" said Walden--"Will you untie +him?" + +Ipsie stared roundly and meditatively. + +"Dunno!"--she said--"'Specks I will! But oh, my Zozey-Posey IS so +bad!" and she screwed her little flaxen head round with an +expression of the most comical distress--"See my wip?" And she held +up a long stem of golden-rod in flower,--"Zozey dot to be wipped-- +poor Zozey! But he's dot to be tied up fust!" + +Josey heard all this nonsense babble with delighted interest, and +surveyed the tops of his decorated boots with much admiration. + +"Ain't she a little caution!" he said--"She do mind me somehow of +th' owld Squire's gel! Ay, she do!--Miss Maryllia was just as peart +and dauntsome when she was her age. Did I ever tell ye, Passon, +'bout Miss Maryllia's legs an' the wopses' nest?" + +John started violently. What was the old man talking about? He felt +that he must immediately put a stop to any chance of indecorous +garrulity. + +"No, you never told me anything about it, Josey,"--he said, +hastily,--"an I've no time just now to stay and listen. I'm off on a +visit for two or three days--you won't see me again till Sunday." + +Josey drew his pipe slowly out of his mouth. + +"Goin' away, Passon, are ye?" he said in quavering accents of +surprise--"Ain't that a bit strange like?" + +"Why yes, I suppose it is,"--said John, half laughing--"I never do +go away I know--but---" + +"Look 'ere Passon! Speak frank an' fair!--there baint nothin' +drivin' ye away, be there?" + +The hot colour sprang to Walden's brows. + +"Why no, Josey!--of course not! How can you think of such a thing?" + +Josey stooped and patted Ipsie's flaxen tangle of curls softly. Then +he straightened himself and looked fully into John's face. + +"Well I dunno how 'tis, Passon,"--he said, slowly--"When the body +gets old an' feels the fallin' o' the dark shadder, the soul begins +to feel young, an' sees all at once the light a-comin' which makes +all things clear. See this little child playin' wi' me?--well, she +don't think o' me as an old worn man, but as somethin' young like +herself--an' for why? Because she sees the soul o' me,--the eyes o' +the children see souls more'n bodies, if ye leave 'em alone an' +don't worrit 'em wi' worldly talk. An' it's MY soul wot sees more'n +my body--an' that's why I sez to ye, Passon, that if so be you've +any trouble don't run away from it! Stay an' fight it out--it's the +onny way!--fight it out!" + +Walden was for a moment taken aback. Then he answered steadily. + +"You're right, Josey! If I had any trouble I should stay and as you +say, fight it out;--but I've none, Josey!--none in the world! I am +as happy as I can be,--far happier than I deserve,--and I'm only +going away to see my old friend Bishop Brent--you remember--the +Bishop who consecrated the church seven years ago?"--Josey nodded +comprehensively, "He lives, as you know, quite a hundred miles from +here--but I shall be in my usual place on Sunday." + +"Please God, you will!" said Josey, devoutly--"And please God, so +shall I. But there's never no knowin' what may 'appen in a day or +two days---" + +Here Ipsie gave vent to a yell of delight. She had been groping +among the flowers in the cottage border, and now held up a deep red +rose, darkly glowing at its centre. + +"Wed wose!" she announced, screamingly--"Wed--all wed! For Passon! +Passon, tiss it!" + +John still leaning on the gate, reached down and took the flower, +kissing it as he was told, with lips that trembled on the velvet +leaves. It was one of the 'old French damask' roses--and its rich +scent, so soft and full of inexplicable fine delicacy, affected him +strangely. + +"'Ave ye heard as 'ow Miss Maryllia's goin' to marry that fine +gen'leman wot's at Badsworth?" pursued Josey, presently, beginning +to chuckle as he asked the question--"Roxmouth, they calls him;-- +Lord, Lord, what clicketin' talk, like all the grass-'oppers out for +a fairin'! She ain't goin' to marry no Roxmouths, bless 'er 'art!-- +she's goin' to stick to the old 'ome an' people, and never leave 'em +no more! _I_ knows her mind! She tells old Josey wot she don't tell +nobody else, you bet she do!" + +John Walden tried not to look interested. + +"Miss Vancourt will no doubt marry some day,"--he said, somewhat +lamely. + +"Av coorse she will!"--returned Josey--"When Mr. Right comes along, +she'll know 'im fast enough! Them blue eyes ain't goin' to be +deceived, _I_ tell ye! But she ain't goin' to be no Duchess as they +sez,--it's my 'pinion plain Missis is good 'nough for the Squire's +gel, if so be a lovin' an' true Mister was to ax 'er and say--'Will +'ee be my purty little wife, an' warm my cold 'art all the days o' +my life?'--an' there'd be no wantin' dukes nor lords round when +there's real love drivin' a man an' woman into each other's arms! +Lord--Lord, don't I know it! Seems but t'other day I was a fine man +o' thirty odd, an' walkin' under the hawthorns all white wi' bloom, +an' my wife that was to be strollin' shy like at my side--we was +kind o' skeered o' one another, courtin' without knowin' we was +courtin' ezackly, an' she 'ad a little blue print gown on an' a +white linen sunbonnet--I kin see 'er as clear an' plain as I see +you, Passon!--an' she looks up an' she sez--'Ain't it a lovely day, +Joe?' An' I sez--'Yes, it's lovely, an' you're lovely too!' An' my +'art gave a great dump agin my breast, an' 'fore I knowed it I 'ad +'er in my arms a-kissin' 'er for all I was worth! Ay, that was so-- +an' I never regretted them kisses under the may-trees, I tell ye! +An' that's what'll 'appen to Squire's gel--some good man 'ull walk +by 'er side one o' these days, an' won't know wot he's a-doin' of +nor she neither, an' love 'ull just come down an' settle in their +'arts like a broodin' dove o' the 'Oly Spirit, not speakin' +blasPHEmous, Passon, I do assure ye! For if Love ain't a 'Oly +Spirit, then there ain't no Lord God in the 'Love one another!' I +sez 'tis a 'Oly Spirit wot draws fond 'arts together an' makes 'em +beat true--and the 'Oly Spirit 'ull fall on Squire's gel in its own +time an' bring a blessin' with it. That's wot I sez,--are ye goin', +Passon?" + +"Yes--I'm going," said John in an uncertain voice, while Ipsie +stared up at him in sudden enquiring wonder, perhaps because he +looked so pale, and because the hand in which he held the rose she +had given him trembled slightly--"I've a number of things to do, +Josey--otherwise I should love to stop and hear you talk--you know I +should!" and he smiled kindly--"For you are quite right, Josey! You +have faith in the beautiful and the true, and so have I! I believe-- +yes--I believe that everything--even a great sorrow--is for the +best. We cannot see,--we do not know--but we should trust the Divine +mind of God enough to feel that all is, all must be well!" + +"That's so, Passon!" said Josey, with grave heartiness--"Stick to +that, an' we're all right. God bless ye! I'll see ye Sunday if I +ain't gone to glory!" + +Walden pulled open the garden gate to shake hands with the old man, +and to kiss Ipsie who, as he lifted her up in his arms, caressed his +cheeks with her two dumpy hands. + +"Has 'oo seen my lady-love?" she asked, in a crooning whisper--"My +bootiful white lady-love?" + +Walden looked at Josey perplexedly. + +"She means Miss Maryllia,"--said the old man--"That's the name she's +given 'er--lady-love--the thinkin' little imp she is! Where's lady- +love? Why she's in 'er own house--she don't want any little tags o' +babbies runnin' round 'er--your lady-love's got somethin' else to +do." + +"She AIN'T!" said Ipsie, with dramatic emphasis--"She tums an' sees +me often--'oo don't know nuffin' 'bout it! HAS 'oo seen 'er?" she +asked Walden again, taking hold of one end of his moustache very +tenderly. + +He patted the little chubby arm. + +"I saw her the other night,"--he said, a sudden rush of words coming +to his lips in answer to the child's query--"Yes, Ipsie,--I saw her! +She was all in white, as a lady-love should be--only there were +little flushes of pink on her dress like the sunset on a cloud--and +she had diamonds in her hair,"--Here Ipsie sighed a profound sigh of +comfortable ecstasy--"and she looked very sweet and beautiful--and-- +and"--Here he suddenly paused. Josey Letherbarrow was looking at him +with sudden interest. "And that's all, Ipsie!" + +"Didn't she say nuffin' 'bout me?" asked the small autocrat. + +Walden set her gently down on the ground. + +"Not then, Ipsie,"--he said--"She was very busy. But I am sure she +thought of you!" + +Ipsie looked quite contented. + +"'Ess,--my lady-love finks a lot, oh, a lot of me!" she said, +seriously--"Allus finkin' of me!" + +John smiled, and again shook old Josey's hand. + +"Good-bye till Sunday!" he said. + +"Good-bye, Passon!" rejoined Josey, cheerily--"Good luck t'ye! God +bless ye!" + +And the old man watched John's tall, slim athletic figure as long as +his failing sight could follow it, murmuring to himself-- + +"Who'd a thought it!--who'd 'a thought it! Yet mebbe I'm wrong--an' +mebbe I'm right!--for the look o' love never lightens a man's eyes +like that but once in his life--all the rest o' the sparkles is only +imitations o' the real fire. The real fire burns once, an' only +once--an' it's fierce an' hot when it kindles up in a man after the +days o' his youth are gone! An' if the real fire worn't in Passon's +eyes when he talked o' the lady-love, than I'm an old idgit wot +never felt my heart go dunt again my side in courtin' time!" + +Walden meanwhile went on his round of visits, and presently,--the +circle of his poorer parishioners being completed,-he decided to +call on Julian Adderley at his 'cottage in the wood' and tell him +also of his intended absence. He had taken rather a liking to this +eccentric off-shoot of an eccentric literary set,--he had found that +despite some slight surface affectations, Julian had very straight +principles, and loyal ideas of friendship, and that he was not +without a certain poetic talent which, if he studied hard and to +serious purpose, might develop into something of more or less +worthiness. Some lines that he had recently written and read aloud +to Walden, had a haunting ring which clung to the memory: + + + + Art thou afraid to live, my Heart? + Look round and see + What life at its best, + With its strange unrest, + Can mean for thee! + Ceaseless sorrow and toil, + Waits for each son of the soil; + And the highest work seems ever unpaid + By God and man, + In the mystic plan;-- + Think of it! Art thou afraid? + + Art thou afraid to love, my Heart? + Look well and see + If any sweet thing, + That can sigh or sing, + Hath need of thee! + Of Love cometh wild desire, + Hungry and fierce as fire, + In the souls of man and maid,-- + But the fulness thereof + Is the end of love,-- + Think of it! Art thou afraid? + + Art thou afraid of Death, my Heart? + Look down and see + What the corpse on the bed, + So lately dead, + Can teach to thee! + Is it the close of the strife, + Or a new beginning of Life? + The secret is not betrayed;-- + But Darkness makes clear + That Light must be near! + Think of it! Art thou afraid? + +"'Darkness makes clear, that Light must be near,'--I am sure that is +true!"--murmured John, as he swung along at a quick pace through a +green lane leading out of the village into the wider country, where +two or three quaint little houses with thatched roofs were nestled +among the fields, looking like dropped acorns in the green,--"It +must be true,--there are so many old saws and sayings of the same +kind, like 'The darkest hour's before the dawn.' But why should I +seek to console myself with a kind of Tupper 'proverbial +philosophy'? I have no black hour threatening me,--I have nothing in +the world to complain of or grumble at except my own undisciplined +nature, which even at my age shows me it can 'kick against the pricks' +and make a fool of me!" + +Here turning a corner of the road which was overshaded by a huge +chestnut-tree, he suddenly came face to face with the Reverend +Putwood Leveson, who, squatted on the hank by the roadside, with his +grand-pianoforte legs well exposed to view in tight brown +knickerbockers and grey worsted stockings, was bending perspiringly +over his recumbent bicycle, mending something which had, as usual, +gone wrong. + +"Hullo, Walden!" he said, looking up and nodding casually--"Haven't +seen you for an age! What have you been doing with yourself? Always +up at the Manor, I suppose! Great attraction at the Manor!--he-he- +he!" + +A certain quick irritation, like that produced by the teasing buzz +of some venomous insect, affected Walden's nerves. He looked at the +porcine proportions of his brother minister with an involuntary +sense of physical repulsion. Then he answered stiffly-- + +"I don't understand you. I have not been visiting at the Manor at +all. I dined there the night before last for the first and only +time." + +Leveson winked one purple puffy eyelid. Then he began his 'He-he-he' +again to himself, while he breathed hard and sweated profusely over +the rubber tyre of his machine. + +"Is that so?" he sniggered--"Well, that's all the better for you!-- +you do well to keep away! Men of our cloth ought not to be seen +there really." + +And scrambling to his feet with elephantine ease, he brushed the +dust from his knickers, and wiped his brows with an uncleanly +handkerchief which looked as if it had been used for drying oil off +the bicycle as well as off the man. + +"We ought not to be seen there,"--he repeated, disregarding Walden's +steady coldness of eye--"I myself made a great mistake when I wrote +to the woman. I ought not to have done so. But of course I did not +know--I thought it was all right." And the reverend gentleman +assumed an air of mammoth-like innocence--"I am so mediaeval, you +know!--I never suspect anything or anybody! I wrote to her in quite +a friendly way, suggesting that I should arrange her family papers +for her--I thought she might as well employ me as anyone else--and +she never answered my letter--never answered a word!" + +"Well, of course not!" said Walden, composedly, though his blood +began to tingle hotly through his veins with rising indignation-- +"Why should she? Her family papers are all in order, and no doubt +she considered your application both ignorant and impertinent." + +Leveson's gross countenance flushed a deeper crimson. + +"Ignorant and impertinent!" he echoed--"Come, I like that! Why she +ought to have considered herself uncommonly lucky to receive so much +as a civil letter from a respectable man,--such a woman as she is!-- +'Maryllia Van'--he-he-he-he!" + +Walden took a quick step towards him. + +"What do you mean?" he demanded--"What right have you to speak of +her in such a manner?" + +Leveson recoiled, startled by the intense pallor of Walden's face, +and the threatening light in his eyes. + +"What right?" he stammered--"Why--why what do yon mean by flaring up +in such a temper, eh? What does it matter to you?" + +"It matters this much,--that I will not allow Miss Vaneourt to be +insulted by you or anyone else!" retorted Walden, hotly--"You have +never spoken to her,--you know nothing about her,--so hold your +tongue!" + +The Reverend 'Putty's' round eyes protruded with amazement. + +"Hold--my--tongue!" he repeated, in a kind of stupefaction--"Are you +gone mad, Walden? Do you know who you are talking to?" + +John gave a short laugh. His hands clenched involuntarily. + +"Oh, I know well enough!" he said--"I am talking to a man who has no +more regard for a woman's name than a cat has for the mouse it +kills! I am talking to a man who is an ordained Christian minister, +who has less Christianity than a dog, which at least is faithful to +its master!" + +Leveson uttered a kind of inarticulate sound something between a +gasp and a grunt. Then he fell back on his old snigger. + +"He-he, he-he-he!" he bleated--"You must be crazy, Walden!--or else +you've been drinking! I've a perfect right to speak of the Abbot's +Manor woman IF I like and as I like! All men have a right to do the +same--she's been pretty well handed round as common property for a +long time! Why, she's perfectly notorious!--everybody knows that!" + +"You lie!" + +And Walden sprang at him, one powerful clenched fist uplifted. +Leveson staggered back in terror,--and so for a moment they +stood, staring upon one another. They did not hear a stealthy rustle +among the branches of the chestnut-tree near which they stood, nor +see a long lithe shadow creep towards them for the dense low-hanging +foliage. Face to face, eye to eye, they remained for a moment's +space as though ready to close and wrestle,--then suddenly Walden's +arm dropped to his side. + +"My God!" he muttered--"I nearly struck you!" + +Leveson drew a long breath of relief, and sneaked backward on his +heels. + +"You--you're a nice kind of 'ordained Christian minister' aren't +you?" he spluttered--"With all your humbug and cant you're no better +than a vulgar bully! A vulgar bully!--that's what you are! I'll +report you to the Bishop--see if I don't!--brow-beating me, and +putting me in bodily fear, all about a woman too! Great Scott!--a +fine scandal you'll make in the Church one of these days if you're +not watched pretty closely and pulled up pretty sharply--and pulled +up you shall be, take my word for it! We've had about enough of your +high-and-mighty airs--it's time you learned to know your place---" + +The words had scarcely left his mouth when a pair of long muscular +arms seized him by the shoulders, shook him briefly and +emphatically, and turning him easily over, deposited him flat in the +dust. + +"It is time--yea verily!--it is full time you learned to know your +place!" said Julian Adderley, calmly standing with legs-astride +across his fat recumbent body--"And there it is--and there you are! +My dear Walden, how are you? Excuse my shaking hands with you-- +having defiled myself, as the Orientals say, by touching unclean +meat, I must wash first!" + +For a moment Walden had been so taken aback by the suddenness of +Leveson's unexpected overthrow that he could scarcely realise what +had happened,--but presently when the Reverend 'Putty's' cobby legs +began to sprawl uneasily on the ground, and the Eeverend 'Putty' +himself gave vent to sundry blasphemous oaths and curses, he grasped +the full humour of the situation. A broad smile lit up his face. + +"That was a master-stroke, Adderley!" he said, and the smile +deepened into sudden laughter--"But how in the world did you come +here?" + +"I was here all the time,"--said Adderley, still standing across +Leveson's prostrate form--"Returning to the habits of primaeval +monkey as I often do, I was seated in the boughs of that venerable +chestnut-tree-and I heard all the argument. I enjoyed it. I was +hoping to see the Church militant belabour the Church recusant. It +would have been so new--so fresh! But as the sacred blow failed, the +secular one was bound to fall. Don't get up, my excellent sir!-- +don't, I beseech of you!" This to Leveson, who was trying by means +of the most awkward contortions to rise to a sitting posture--"You +will find it difficult--among other misfortunes your knickers will +burst, and there is no tailor close at hand. Spare yourself,--and +us!" + +"Oh give him a hand, Adderley!" said Walden, good-naturedly. "Help +him up! He's had his beating!" + +"He hasn't,"--declared Julian, with a lachrymose air of intense +regret--"I wish he had! He is less hurt than if he had fallen off +his bicycle. He is in no pain;--would that he were!" + +Here Leveson managed to partially lift himself on one side. +"Assault!" he stuttered--"Assault--common assault---" + +"AND battery,"--said Julian--"You can summons me, my dear sir--if +you feel so inclined! I shall be happy to explain the whole incident +in court--and also to pay the five pounds penalty. I only wish I +could have got more for my money. There's such a lot of you!--such a +lot!" he repeated, musingly, "And I've only sailed round such a +small portion of your vast fleshy continent!" + +Walden controlled his laughter, and stooping, offered to assist +Leveson to get up, but the indignant 'Putty' refused all aid, and +setting his own two hands firmly against the ground, tried again to +rise. + +"Remove your legs, sir!" he shouted to Julian, who still stood +across him in apparent abstraction--"How dare you--how dare you pin +me down in this fashion?--how dare---" + +Here his voice died away choked by rage. + +"You are witty without knowing it, my fat friend!" said Julian +languidly--"Legs, in slang parlance, are sometimes known as 'pins,'- +-therefore, when you say I 'pin' you down, you use an expression +which is, like the 'mobled queen' in Hamlet, good. Be unpinned, good +priest--and remember that you must be prepared to say your prayers +backwards, next time you slander a woman!" + +He relaxed his position, and Leveson with an effort scrambled to his +feet, covered with dust. Picking up his cap from the gutter where it +had fallen, he got his bicycle and prepared to mount it. He +presented a most unlovely spectacle--his face, swollen and crimson +with fury, seemed twice its usual size,--his little piggy eyes +rolled in his head like those of a man threatened with apoplexy--and +the oily perspiration stood upon his brow and trickled from his +carroty hair in great drops. + +"You shall pay for this!" he said in low vindictive tones, shaking +his fist at both Walden and Adderley--"There are one or two old +scores to be wiped off in this village, and mine will help to +increase the account! Your fine lady at the Manor isn't going to +have everything her own way, I can tell you--nor you either, you-- +you--you upstart!" + +With this last epithet hurled out at Walden, who, shrugging his +shoulders, received it with ineffable contempt, he got on his +machine and worked his round legs and round wheels together +furiously away. When his bulky form had disappeared, the two men he +had left behind glanced at one another, and moved by the same +risible emotion burst out laughing,--and once their laughter began, +they gave it full vent, Walden's mellow 'Ha-ha-ha!' ringing out on +the still air with all the zest and heartiness of a boy's mirth. + +"Upon my word, Adderley, you are a capital 'thrower'?" he said, +clapping Julian on the shoulder. "I never was more surprised in my +life than to see that monstrous 'ton of man' heave over suddenly and +sprawl in the dust! It was an artistic feat, most artistically +executed!" + +"It was--it was,--I think so myself!"--agreed Julian--"I am proud of +my own skill! That pious porpoise will not forget me in a hurry. You +see, my dear Walden, you merely threatened punishment,--you did not +inflict it,--I suppose out of some scruple of Church conscience, +which is quite a different conscience to the lay examples,--and it +was necessary to act promptly. The air of St. Rest is remarkably +free from miasma, but Leveson was discharging microbes from his +tongue and person generally that would have been dangerous to life +in another minute." He laughed again. "Were you coming my way?" + +"Yes, I was," replied Walden, as they began to walk along the road +together--"I am going away on a visit, and I meant to call and say +good-bye to you." + +Julian glanced at him curiously. + +"Going away? For long?" + +"Oh no! Only for two or three days. I want to see my Bishop." + +"On a point of conscience?" + +John smiled, but coloured a little too. + +"No--not exactly! We are very old friends, Brent and I--but we have +not met for seven years,--not since my church was consecrated. It +will be pleasant to us to have a chat about old times---" + +"And new times--don't leave THEM out," said Julian--"They are quite +as interesting. The present is as pleasing as the past, don't you +think so?" + +Walden hesitated. A touch of sorrow and lingering regret clouded his +eyes. + +"No--I cannot say that I do!" he answered, at last, with a sigh--"In +the past I was young, with all the world before me,--in the present +I am old, with all the world behind me!" + +"Does it matter?" and Adderley lifted his eyelids with a languid +expression--"For instance let us suppose that in the past you have +lost something and that in the present you gain something, does it +not equalise the position?" + +"The gain is very little in my case!"--said John, yet even as he +spoke he felt a pang of shame at his own thanklessness. Had he not +secured a peaceful home, a round of work that he loved, and +happiness far beyond his merits, and had not God blessed him with +health and a quiet mind? Yes--till quite lately he had had a quiet +mind--but now--- + +"You perhaps do not realise how much the gain is, or how far it +extends,"--pursued Adderley, thoughtfully--"Youth and age appear to +me to have perfectly equal delights and drawbacks. Take me, for +example,--I am young, but I am in haste to be older, and when I am +old I am sure I shall never want to be young again. It is too +unsettled a condition!" + +Walden smiled, but made no answer. They walked on in comparative +silence till they reached Adderley's cottage--a humble but +charmingly artistic tenement, with a thatched roof and a small +garden in front which was little more than a tangle of roses. + +"I am taking this house--this mansion--on," said Julian, pausing at +the gate--"I shall stop here all winter. The surroundings suit me. +Inspiration visits me in the flowering of the honeysuckle, and +encircles me in the whispering of the wind among the roses. When the +leaves drop and the roses fade, I shall hear a different chord on +the harp of song. When the sleet and snow begin to fall, I shall +listen to the dripping of the tears of Nature with as much sympathy +as I now bask in her smiles. I have been writing verses to the name +of Maryllia--they are not finished--but they will come by degrees-- +yes!--I am sure they will come! This is how they begin,"--and +leaning on the low gate of his cottage entrance he recited softly, +with half-closed eyes: + + In the flowering-time of year + When the heavens were crystal clear, + And the skylark's singing sweet + Close against the sun did beat,-- + All the sylphs of all the streams, + All the fairies born in dreams, + All the elves with wings of flame, + Trooping forth from Cloudland came + To the wooing of Maryllia! + +Walden murmured something inarticulate, but Adderley waved him into +silence, and continued: + + Woodland sprites of ferns and trees, + Ariels of the wandering breeze, + Kelpies from the hidden caves + Coral-bordered 'neath the waves, + Sylphs, that in the rose's heart, + Laugh when leaves are blown apart,-- + All the Faun and Dryad crew + From their mystic forests flew + To the wooing of Maryllia! + +"Very fanciful!" said John, with a forced smile--"I suppose you can +go on like that interminably?" + +"I can, and I will,"--said Julian--"So long as the fit possesses me. +But not now. You are in a hurry, and you wish to say good-bye. You +imply the P.P.C. in your aspect. So be it! I shall see you on Sunday +in the pulpit as usual?" + +"Yes." + +"Badsworth Hall will probably attend your ministrations, so I am +told,"--continued Julian--"Lord Roxmouth wants to hear you preach,-- +and Sir Morton himself proposes to 'sit under' you." + +"Sorry for it!" said Walden abruptly--"He should attend his own +'cure'--Mr. Leveson." + +They laughed. + +"Of course you don't credit that story about Miss Vancourt's +marriage with Lord Roxmouth?" queried Adderley, suddenly. + +"I am slow to believe anything I hear,"--replied John--"But--is it +quite without foundation?" + +Adderley looked him straight in the eyes. + +"Quite! Very quite! Most quite! My dear Walden, you are pale! A +change, even a brief one, will do you good. Go and see your Bishop +by all means. And tell him how nearly, how very nearly you gave +prestige to the calling of a Churchman by knocking down a rascal!" + +They parted then; and by sundown Walden was in the train speeding +away from St. Rest at the rate of fifty miles an hour to one of the +great manufacturing cities where human beings swarm together more +thickly than bees in a hive, and overcrowd and jostle each other's +lives out in the desperate struggle for mere bread. Bainton and +Nebbie were left sole masters of the rectory and its garden, and +both man and dog were depressed in spirits, and more or less +restless and discontented. + +"'Tain't what it used to be by no manner o' means,"--muttered +Bainton, looking with a dejected air round the orchard, where the +wall fruit was hanging in green clusters of promise--"Passon don't +seem to care, an' when HE don't care then I don't care! Why, it +seems onny t'other day 'twas May morning, an' he was carryin' Ipsie +Frost on his shoulder, an' leadin' all the children wi' the Maypole +into the big meadow, an' all was as right as right could be,--yet +'ere we're onny just in August an' everything's topsy-turvy like. +Lord, Lord!--'ow trifles do make up a sum o' life to be sure, as the +copybooks sez--for arter all, what's 'appened? Naught in any wise +partikler. Miss Vancourt 'as come 'ome to her own,--an' she's 'ad a +few friends from Lunnon stayin' with 'er. That's simple enough, as +simple as plantains growin' in a lawn. Then Miss Vancourt's 'usband +that is to be, comes down an' stays with old Blusterdash Pippitt at +the 'All, in order to be near 'is sweet'art. There ain't nothin' out +of the common in that. It's all as plain as piecrust. An' Passon +ain't done nothin' either but jest his dooty as he allus doos it,-- +he ain't been up to the Manor more'n once,--he ain't been at the +'All,--an' Miss Vancourt she ain't been 'ere neither since the day +he broke his best lilac for her. So it can't be she what's done +mischief--nor him, nor any on 'em. So I sez to myself, what is it? +What's come over the old place? What's come over Passon? Neither +place nor man's the same somehow, yet blest if I know where the +change comes in. It's like one of the ways o' the Lord, past findin' +out!" + +He might have thought there was something still more to wonder at if +he could have looked into Josey Letterbarrow's cottage that evening +and seen Maryllia there, sitting on a low stool at the old man's +knee and patting his wrinkled hand tenderly, while she talked to him +in a soft undertone and he listened with grave intentness and +sagacity, though, also with something of sorrow. + +"An' so ye think it's the onny way, my beauty!" he queried, +anxiously--"There ain't no other corner round it?" + +"I'm afraid not, dear Josey!" she answered, with a sigh--"And I'm +telling you all about it, because you knew my father, and because +you saw me when I was a little child. You would not like me to marry +a man whom I hate,--a man who is bad right through, and who only +wants my aunt's money, which he would get if I consented to be his +wife. I am sure, Josey, you don't think money is the best thing in +life, do you?--I know you agree with me that love is better?" + +Josey looked down upon her where she sat with an almost devout +tenderness. + +"Love's the onny thing in the world worth 'avin' an' keeping my +beauty!" he said--"An' love's wot you desarves, an' wot you're sure +to get. I wouldn't see Squire's gel married for money, no, not if it +was a reglar gold mine!--I'd rather see 'er in 'er daisy grave fust! +An' I don't want to see 'er with a lord nor a duke,--I'll be content +to see 'er with a good man if the Lord will grant me that 'fore I +die! An' you do as you feels to be right, an' all things 'ull work +together for good to them as loves the Lord! That's Passon's +teachin' an' rare good teachin' it be!" + +At this Maryllia rose rather hurriedly and put on her hat, tying its +chiffon strings slowly under her chin. + +"Good-bye, Josey dear!"--she said--"It won't be for very long. But +you must keep my secret--you mustn't say a word, not even"--here she +paused and laughed a little forcedly--"not even to the Parson you're +so fond of!" + +Josey looked at her sideways, with a quaintly meditative expression. + +"Passon be gone away hisself,"--he said, a little smile creeping +among the kindly wrinkles of his brown weather-beaten face--"He +baint comin' back till Sunday." + +"Gone away?" Maryllia was quite unconscious of the vibration of pain +in her voice as she asked the question, as she was equally of the +startled sorrow in her pretty eyes. + +"Ah, my beauty, gone away,"--repeated Josey, with a curious sort of +placid satisfaction--"Passon, he be lookin' downhearted like, an' a +change o' scene 'ull do 'im good mebbe, an' bring 'im back all the +better for it. He came an' said good-bye to me this marnin'." + +Maryllia stood for a moment irresolute. Why had he gone away? Her +brows met in a little puckered line of puzzled wonder. + +"He be gone to see the Bishop,"--pursued Josey, watching her +tenderly with his old dim eyes,--it was like reading a love-story to +see the faint colour flushing those soft round cheeks of hers, and +the tremulous quiver of that sweet sensitive mouth--"Church +business, likely. But never you mind, my beauty!--he'll be 'ere to +preach, please the Lord, on Sunday." + +"Oh, I don't mind," said Maryllia, quickly recovering herself--"Only +I shan't be here, you see--and--and I had intended to explain +something to him--however, it doesn't matter! I can write all I +wanted to say. Good-bye, Josey! Give my love to Ipsie!" + +"Good-bye, my beauty!" returned Josey, with emphatic earnestness-- +"An' God bless ye an' make all the rough places smooth for ye! +You'll find us all 'ere, lovin' an' true, whenever ye comes, +mornin', noon or night--the village ain't the world, but you've got +round it, my dearie--you've got round it!" + +And in the deep midnight when the church chimes rang the hour, and +the moon poured a pearly shower of luminance over the hushed +woodland and silently winding river, Josey lay broad awake, +resignedly conscious of his extreme age, and thinking soberly of the +beginning and end of life,--the dawn and fruition of love,--the +wonderful, beautiful, complex labyrinth of experience through which +every human soul is guided from one mystic turn to another of +mingled joy and sorrow by that supreme Wisdom, Whom, though we +cannot see, we trust,--and feeling the near close of his own long +life-journey, he folded his withered hands and prayed aloud: + +"For all Thy childern, O Lord God, that 'ave gone by the last +milestone on the road an' are growin' footsore an' weary, let there +be Thy peace which passeth all understandin'!--but for Squire's gel +with the little lonely heart of 'er beatin' like the wings of a bird +that wants a nest, let there be Love!" + + + + +XXVI + + +Next day at Badsworth Hall, a stately luncheon was in progress. +Luncheon, or indeed any meal, partaken of under the rolling and +excitable eye of Sir Morton Pippitt, was always a function fraught +with considerable embarrassment to any guests who might happen to be +present, being frequently assisted by the Shakespearean stage +direction 'alarums and excursions.' With Sir Morton at the head of +the table, and the acid personality of his daughter Miss Tabitha at +the foot, there was very little chance of more than merely +monosyllabic conversation, while any idea of merriment, geniality or +social interchange of thought, withered in conception and never came +to birth. The attention of both host and hostess was chiefly +concentrated on the actual or possible delinquencies of the servants +in attendance--and what with Sir Morton's fierce nods and becks to +unhappy footmen, and Miss Tabitha's freezing menace of brow bent +warningly against the butler, those who, as visitors, were outside +these privacies of the domestic circle, never felt altogether at +their ease. But the fact that other people were made uncomfortable +by his chronic irascibility moved Sir Morton not at all, so long as +he personally could enjoy himself in his own fashion, which was to +browbeat, bully and swear at every hapless household retainer that +came across his path in the course of the day. He was more than +usually choleric and fussy in the 'distinguished' presence of Lord +Roxmouth, for though that individual had gone the social pace very +thoroughly, and was, to put it mildly, a black sheep of modern +decadence, hopelessly past all regeneration, he still presented the +exterior appearances of a gentleman, and was careful to maintain +that imperturbable composure of mien, dignity of bearing, and +unruffled temper which indicate breeding, though they are far from +being evidences of sincerity. And thus it very naturally happened +that in the companionship of the future Duke of Ormistoune, Sir +Morton did not shine. His native vulgarity came out side by side +with his childish pomposity, and Roxmouth, after studying his +habits, customs and manners for two or three days, began to feel +intensely bored and out of humour. + +"Upon my word,"--he said, to his fidus Achates, Marius Longford,--"I +am enduring a great deal for the sake of the Vancourt millions! To +follow an erratic girl like Maryllia from one Continental resort to +another was bad enough,-but to stay here in tame, highly respectable +country dullness is a thousand times worse! Why on earth, my good +fellow, could you not have found a more educated creature to play +host to me than this terrible old Bone-Boiler?" + +Longford pressed the tips of his fingers together with a deprecatory +gesture. + +"There was really no one else who could receive you,"--he answered, +almost apologetically--"I thought I had managed the affair rather +well. You will remember that directly Miss Vancourt had announced to +her aunt her intention to return to her own home, you sent me down +here to investigate the place and its surroundings, and see what I +could do. Sir Morton Pippitt seemed to be the only person, from the +general bent of his character, to suit your aims, and his house was, +(before he had it) of very excellent historic renown. I felt sure +you would be able to use him. There is no other large place in the +neighbourhood except Miss Vancourt's own Manor, and Ittlethwaite +Park--I doubt whether you could have employed the Ittlethwaites to +much purpose---" + +"Spare me the suggestion!" yawned Roxmouth--"I should not have +tried!" + +"Well, there is no one else of suitable position, or indeed of +sufficient wealth to entertain you,"--continued Longford--"Unless +you had wished me to fraternise with the brewer, Mordaunt Appleby? +HE certainly might have been useful! oj He would sell his soul to a +title!" + +Roxmouth gave an exclamation of mingled contempt and impatience, and +dropped the conversation. But he was intensely weary of Sir Morton's +'fine jovial personality'--he hated his red face, his white hair, +his stout body, his servile obsequiousness to rank, and all his +'darling old man' ways. Darling old man he might be, but he was +unquestionably a dull old man as well. So much so, indeed, that when +at luncheon on the day now named, his lordship Roxmouth, as Mr. +Netlips would have styled him, was in a somewhat petulant mood, +being tired of the constant scolding of the servants that went on +around him, and being likewise moved to a sort of loathing repulsion +at the contemplation of Miss Tabitha's waxy-clean face lined with +wrinkles, and bordered by sternly smooth grey hair. He was lazily +wondering to himself whether she had ever been young--whether the +same waxy face, wrinkles and grey hair had not adorned her in her +very cradle,--when the appearance of an evidently highly nervous boy +in buttons, carrying a letter towards his host on a silver salver, +distracted his attention. + +"What's this--what's this?" spluttered Sir Morton, hastily dropping +a fork full of peas which he had been in the act of conveying to his +mouth--"What are you bringing notes in here for, eh? Haven't I told +you I won't have my meals disturbed by messages and parcels? What +d'ye mean by it? Take it away--take it away!--No!--here!--stop a +minute, stop a minute! Yes--yes!--I see!--marked 'immediate,' and +from Abbot's Manor. My dear lord!"--And here he raised his voice to +a rich warble-"I believe this will concern you more than me--ha-ha- +ha!--yes, yes! we know a thing or two! 'When a woman will, she will, +you may depend on't!'--never mind the other line!--never mind, never +mind!" And he broke open the seal of the missive presented to him, +and adjusted his gold-rimmed spectacles to read its contents. "Eh-- +what's this--what's this? God bless my soul!" And his round eyes +protruded in astonishment and dismay--"Look here!--I say--really! +You'd better read this, my lord! God bless my soul! She's bolted!" + +Roxmouth started violently. Mr. Marius Longford looked up sharply-- +and Miss Tabitha laid down her knife and fork with the regular old +maid's triumphant air of 'I told you so!' + +"God bless my soul!" said Sir Morton again--"Was ever such a bit of +damned cheek!--beg pardon, my lord!---" + +"Don't apologise!" said Roxmouth, with courteous languor, "At least, +not to ME! To Miss Tabitha!" and he waved his hand expressively. +"May I see the letter?" + +"Certainly--certainly!" and Sir Morton in a great fluster passed it +along. It was a very brief note and ran as follows: + +"DEAR SIR MORTON,--I quite forgot to tell you, when you and your +friends dined with me the other day, that I am leaving home +immediately and shall be away for the rest of the summer. Lady +Wicketts and Miss Fosby are staying on at the Manor for a fortnight +or three weeks, as the country air does them so much good. It will +be very kind if you and Lord Roxmouth will call and see them as +often as you can,--they are such dear kind people!--and I am sure +Miss Tabitha will be glad to have them near her as she already likes +them so much. Anything you can do to give them pleasure while they +are here, will be esteemed as a personal favour to myself. I am +sorry not to have the time to call and say good-bye--but I am sure +you will excuse ceremony. I shall have left before you receive this +note.--With kind regards, sincerely yours," + "MARYLLIA VANCOURT." + +Roxmouth read this letter, first to himself, and then aloud to all +at table. For a moment there was a silence of absolute stupefaction. + +"Then she's gone!" at last said Miss Tabitha, placidly nodding, +while the suspicion of a malign smile crept round the hard corners +of her mouth. + +"Evidently!" And Roxmouth crumbled the bread beside his plate into +fine shreds with a nervous, not to say vicious clench of his hand. + +He was inwardly furious. There is nothing so irritating to a man of +his type as to be made ridiculous. Maryllia had done this. In the +most trifling, casual, and ordinary way she had compelled him to +look like a fool. All his carefully laid plans were completely +upset, and he fancied that even Longford, his tool, to whom he had +freely confided his wishes and intentions, was secretly laughing at +him. To have plotted and contrived a stay at Badsworth Hall with the +blusterous Pippitt in order to have the opportunity of crossing +Maryllia's path at every turn, and compromising her name with his in +her own house and county, and then to find himself 'left,' with the +civil suggestion that he should 'call and see' the antique Sisters +Gemini, Lady Wicketts and Miss Fosby, was somewhat too much for his +patience. The blow was totally unexpected,--the open slight to his +amour propre sudden and keen. His very blood tingled under the lash +of Maryllia's disdain--she had carried a point against him, and he +almost imagined he could hear the distant echo of her light mocking +laughter. His brow reddened,--he gnawed his under-lip angrily, and +sat mute, aware that he had been tricked and foiled. + +Longford watched him narrowly and with something of dismay,--for if +this lordly patron, who, by his position alone, was able to push +things on in certain quarters of the press, were to suddenly turn +crusty and unreasonable, where would his, Longford's, 'great +literary light' be? Quenched utterly like a rush-light in a gale! +Sir Morton Pippitt during the uncomfortable pause of silence had +grown purple with suppressed excitement. He knew perfectly well,-- +because he had consented to it,--that his house had only been 'used' +for Roxmouth's purposes, and that he, personally, was of no more +consideration to a man like the future Duke of Ormistoune than a +landlord for the time being, whose little reckoning for +entertainment would in due course be settled in some polite and +ceremonious fashion. And he realised dolefully that his +'distinguished' guest might, and probably would, soon take his +departure from Badsworth Hall, that abode no longer being of any +service to him. This meant annihilation to many of Sir Morton's +fondest hopes. He had set his heart on appearing at sundry garden- +parties in the neighbourhood during the summer with Lord Roxmouth +under his portly wing--he had meant to hurl Lord Roxmouth here, Lord +Roxmouth there at all the less 'distinguished' people around him, so +that they should almost sink into the dust with shame because they +had not had the honour of sheltering his lordship within their +walls,--and he had expected to add considerably to his own +importance by 'helping on' the desired union between Roxmouth Castle +and the Vaneourt millions. Now this dream was over, and he could +willingly have thrown plates and dishes and anything else that came +handy at the very name of Maryllia for her 'impudence' as he called +it, in leaving them all in the lurch. + +"It will be quite easy to ascertain where she has gone,"--said +Marius Longford presently, in soft conciliatory accents--"Lady +Wicketts will probably know, and Miss Fosby---" + +"Damn Lady Wicketts and Miss Fosby!" snapped out Sir Morton, this +time without any apology--"A couple of female donkeys! 'Kind of me +to call upon them!' God bless my soul! I should think it WOULD be +kind! Nobody but a fool would go near them---" + +"They are very pleasant, good women,"--said Miss Tabitha with severe +serenity--"Personally, I much prefer them to Miss Vancourt." + +Sir Morton snorted contempt; Mr. Longford coughed discreetly. + +"Miss Vancourt has not yet ripened sufficiently to bear comparison +with Lady Wicketts,"--he said, smoothly--"or with Miss Fosby. But I +think, Miss Pippitt, there is a great deal in what you say!" Miss +Tabitha bowed, and smiled a vinegary smile. "Lady Wicketts has a +fine mind--very fine! Her husband, Sir Thomas---" + +"Oh never mind her husband!" blustered Sir Morton,-- + +"He's dead. And a good job too--for himself. Now what's to be done, +my dear lord, eh?--what's to be done?" + +Roxmouth looked up and managed to force his usual conventional +smile. + +"Nothing!" + +"Nothing? Oh come, come! That won't do! Paint heart never won fair +lady--ha-ha-ha! God bless my soul! The course of true love never did +run smooth--that's the advice of what's-his-name--Shakespeare. Ha- +ha! By the bye, what's become of that poet acquaintance of yours, +Longford? Oughtn't HE to have known something about this? Didn't you +tell him to keep a sharp look-out on Maryllia Van, eh?" + +Longford reddened slightly under his pale yellow skin. What a vulgar +way Sir Morton had of putting things, to be sure! + +"I certainly asked Mr. Adderley to let us know if there was anything +in which we could possibly participate to give pleasure and +entertainment to Miss Vancourt,"--he answered frigidly--"He seems to +have ingratiated himself with both Miss Vancourt and her young +friend Miss Bourne--I should have thought he would have been told of +their intending departure." + +"You may depend he knows all about it!" said Sir Mortou--"He's +double-faced, that's what he is! Poets always are. I hate 'em! +Regular sneaks!--always something queer about their morals--look at +Byron!--God bless my soul!--he ought to have been locked up-- +positively locked up, he-ha-ha! We'll come down on this Adderley-- +we'll take him by surprise and cross-examine him--we'll ask him why +the devil he has played a double game---" + +"Pray do not think of such a thing!"--interrupted Roxmouth, quietly- +-"I really doubt whether he knows any more than we do. Maryllia-- +Miss Vancourt--is not of a character to confide her movements, even +to a friend,--she has always been reticent---" He paused. + +"And sly!"--said Miss Tabitha, finishing his sentence for him, "Very +sly! The first time I ever saw Miss Vancourt I knew she was +deceitful! Her very look expresses it!" + +"I'm afraid,"--murmured Roxmouth,--and then hesitating a moment, he +raised his eyes with an affectation of great frankness--"I'm really +afraid you may be right, Miss Tabitha! I had hoped that I should not +have had to speak of a matter,--a very disagreeable matter which +happened the other night--but, under the circumstances, it may be as +well to mention it. You can perhaps imagine how distressing it has +been to me--distressing and painful--and indeed incredible,--to +discover the lady whom I have every right to consider almost my +promised wife, entering into a kind of amorous entanglement down +here with a clergyman!" + +Sir Morton bounced in his chair. + +"God bless my soul! A clergyman?" + +"A clergyman?" echoed Miss Tabitha, with sudden sharpness in her +tone--"What clergyman do you mean?" + +"Who should I mean!" And Roxmouth affected a somewhat sad and +forbearing demeanour--"There is only one who appears to be welcome +at the Manor-the Reverend John Walden." + +Miss Tabitha turned a paler waxen yellow-Sir Morton shot forth a +deep, dreadful and highly blasphemous oath. + +"That prig?" he roared, with a bull-like loudness and fury--"That +high-and-mighty piece of damned superior clerical wisdom? God bless +my soul! There must be some mistake---" + +"Yes surely!"--murmured Miss Tabitha, feeling the clutch of a deadly +spite and fear at her heart,--for was not Walden HER clergyman?--HER +choice of a husband?--the man she had resolved to wed sooner or +later, even if she had to wait till he was senile, and did not know +what he was doing when led to the altar? "Mr. Walden is not a man +who would be easily allured---" + +"Perhaps not,"--said Roxmouth, quietly--"But I can hardly refuse to +accept the witness of my own eyes and ears." And, attended by an +almost breathless silence on the part of his auditors, he related +with an air of patient endurance and compassionate regret, his own +account of the interview between Maryllia and Walden in the picture- +gallery, exaggerating something here, introducing a suggestive +insinuation there, suppressing the simplicity of the true facts, and +inserting falsehood wherever convenient, till he had succeeded in +placing Walden's good name at Miss Tabitha's cat-like mercy for her +to rend and pounce upon to the utmost extent of her own jaundiced +rage and jealous venom. + +Nothing could equal or surpass Sir Morton's amazement and wrath as +he listened to the narration. His eyes seemed to literally start out +of his head,--his throat swelled visibly till a fat ridge of flesh +lolled over the edge of his stiff shirt-collar, and he threw in +various observations of his own with regard to Walden, such as +'Sniveling puppy!' 'Canting rascal!' 'Elderly humbug!' 'Sneaking +upstart,' which were quite in accordance with his native good taste +and refinement of speech. And when at last his stock of expletives +became, for the time being, exhausted, and when Miss Tabitha's dumb +viciousness had, like an invisible sculptor's chisel, carved sudden +deep lines in her face as fitting accompaniments to the deepening +malice of her thoughts, they all rose from the luncheon table and +went their several ways in their several moods of disconcerted +confusion, impotence and vexation, in search of fresh means to gain +new and unexpected ends. Roxmouth, reluctantly yielding to the +earnest persuasions of Longford, walked with him into the village of +St. Rest, and made enquiries at the post-office as to whether Miss +Vancourt's sudden departure was known there, or whether any +instructions had been left as to the forwarding of her letters. But +the postmistress, Mrs. Tapple, breathing hard and curtseying +profoundly to the 'future Dook' declared she ''adn't heard nothink,' +and ''adn't 'ad no orders.' Miss Vancourt's letters and telegrams +all went up to the Manor as usual. Whereupon, still guided by the +astute Longford, Roxmouth so far obeyed Maryllia's parting +suggestion as to go and 'kindly call' upon Lady Wicketts and Miss +Fosby at the Manor itself. The beautiful old house looked the same +as usual; there were no shutters up, no blinds drawn, in any of the +windows,--nothing indicated absence on the part of the reigning +mistress of the fair domain; and even the dog Plato was comfortably +snoozing according to daily custom, on the sun-baked flag-stones in +the Tudor court. Primmins opened the door to them with his usual +well-trained and imperturbable demeanour. + +"Miss Vancourt is not at home?" began Roxmouth tentatively. + +"Miss Vancourt has left for the Continent, my lord," replied +Primmins, sedately. + +Longford exchanged a swift glance with his patron. The latter gave a +slight, weary shrug of his shoulders. + +"Miss Bourne."--began Longford then. + +"Miss Bourne and Mr. Gigg have also left," said Primmins. + +"I suppose Miss Vancourt went with them?" + +"No, sir." + +This was baffling. + +"Lady Wicketts is staying here, I believe,"--murmured Roxmouth--"Can +I--er?" + +"Her ladyship has the neuralgy and is lying down, my lord," and an +acute observer might have noticed the tremor of a wink in Primmins' +eye--"Miss Fosby is in the drawing-room." + +With a profound sigh Roxmouth glanced at Longford. That gentleman +smiled a superior smile. + +"We should like to see Miss Fosby." + +Primmins at once threw open the door more widely. + +"This way, if you please!" + +In another moment they were ushered into the presence of Miss Fosby, +who, laying aside her embroidery, rose with punctilious ceremony to +receive them. + +"Lady Wicketts is not well,"--she said, in tenderly lachrymose +accents--"Dear Lady Wicketts! She is always so good!--always +thinking of other people and doing such kind things!--she fatigues +herself, and she is so delicate--ah!--so very delicate! She is +suffering from neuralgia, I am sorry to say!" + +"Don't mention it,"--said Roxmouth, hastily--"We would not disturb +her for the world! The fact is, we called to see Miss Vancourt---" + +"Yes?" queried Miss Fosby, gently, taking up her embroidery again, +and carefully setting her needle into the petal of a rosebud she was +designing--"Dear girl! She left here yesterday." + +"Rather sudden, wasn't it?" said Longford. + +Miss Fosby looked up placidly, and smiled. She had a touch of humour +about her as well as much 'early Victorian' sentiment, and she was +just now enjoying herself. + +"I think not! Young women like change and travel. Maryllia has +always been accustomed to go abroad in August. The first time Lady +Wicketts and I ever met her, she was travelling with her aunt. Oh +no, I don't think it is at all sudden!" + +"Where has she gone?" asked Roxmouth, affecting as much ease and +lightness of manner as he could in putting the question. + +Miss Fosby smiled a little more. + +"I really don't know,"--she replied, with civil mildness--"I fancy +she has no settled plans at all. She has kindly allowed Lady +Wicketts and myself the use of the Manor for three weeks." + +"Till she returns?" suggested Longford. + +This time Miss Fosby laughed. + +"Oh no! When WE leave it, the Manor is to be shut up again for quite +a long time--probably till next summer." + +"Miss Bourne has gone with her friend, I suppose?" "No,"--and Miss +Fosby sought carefully among her embroidery silks for some special +tint of colour--"Little Cicely and Monsieur Gigue, her master, went +away together only this morning." + +"Well, I suppose Miss Vancourt's letters will he forwarded on +somewhere!"--said Eoxmouth, unguardedly. Miss Fosby's back stiffened +instantly. + +"Really, my lord, I know nothing about that,"--she said, primly-- +"Nor should I even make it my business to enquire." There was an +awkward pause after this, and though Longford skilfully changed the +subject of conversation to generalities, the rest of the interview +was fraught with considerable embarrassment. Miss Fosby was not to +be 'drawn.' She was distinctly 'old-fashioned,'--needless therefore +to add that she was absolutely loyal to her absent friend and +hostess. + +Leaving the Manor, Lord Roxmouth and his tame pussy sought for +information in other quarters with equal futility. The agent, Mr. +Stanways, 'knew nothing.' His orders were to communicate all his +business to Miss Vancourt's solicitors in London. Finally the last +hope failed them in Julian Adderley. They found that young gentleman +as much taken aback as themselves by the news of Maryllia'a +departure. He had been told nothing of it. A note from Cicely Bourne +had been brought to him that morning by one of the gardeners at the +Manor--and he showed this missive to both Roxmouth and Longford with +perfect frankness. It merely ran: "Goodbye Moon-calf! Am going away. +No time to see you for a fond farewell! Hope you will be famous +before I come back. Enclosed herewith is my music to your 'Little +Eose Tree,' GOBLIN." + +This, with the accompanying manuscript score of the song alluded to +was all the information Julian could supply,--and his own surprise +and consternation at the abrupt and unexpected termination of his +pleasant visits to the Manor, were too genuine to be doubted. + +"It is positively remote!" he said, staring vaguely at his visitors- +-"Too remote for realisation! Mr. Walden has gone away too." + +Roxmouth started. + +"Mr. Walden?" + +"Yes." And Julian looked surprised at the other's hasty tone,--"But +only to see his Bishop. He will preach here as usual on Sunday." + +"Are you sure of that?" asked Longford, sharply scanning Julian's +flabby face, green-grey eyes and ruddy locks with sudden suspicion-- +"Or is it only a blind?" + +"A blind?" And Adderley lifted his shoulders to the lobes of his +ears and spread out his hands in flat amazement,--"What do you mean, +most obscure Marius? For what purpose should a blind be used? Mr. +Walden is the last person in the world to wish to cover his +intentions, or disguise his motives. He is the sincerest man I ever +met!" + +Longford glanced at his patron for instructions. Was Adderley to be +told of the 'amorous entanglement' of Miss Vancourt? Roxmouth +frowned at him warningly, and he understood his cue. + +"Well, if you hear any news from the Manor, you can let us know,"-- +he said--"You are quite aware of the position---" + +"Quite!" murmured Julian, lazily. + +"And if you want to get on, you will hardly find a better friend +than Lord Roxmouth,"--pursued Longford, with meaning emphasis--"He +has made many a man famous!" + +"Oh, my dear Longford!-pray do not speak of these things!"-- +interrupted Roxmouth, with an air of gentlemanly humility. "Merit +always commands my interest and attention--and Mr. Adderley's talent +as a poet--naturally--!" Here he waved his hand and allowed the +sentence to finish itself. + +Julian looked at him thoughtfully. + +"Thanks! I THINK I see what you mean!"--he said slowly--"But I'm +afraid I am not a useful person. I never have been useful in my +life--neither to myself, nor to anybody else. To be useful would be +new--and in some cases, fresh,"--here he smiled dubiously--"Yes-- +very fresh!--and delightful! But I fear--I very much fear that I +shall always 'lack advancement' as Hamlet says--I can never +accommodate myself to other people's plans. You will excuse my +inabilities?" + +Roxmouth flushed angrily. He understood. So did Marius Longford-- +resolving in his own mind that whenever, IF ever, a book of poems +appeared by Julian Adderley, he would so maul and pounce upon it in +the critical reviews, that there should not be a line of it left +unmangled or alive. They parted with him, however, on apparently +excellent terms. + +Returning to Badsworth Hall they found no further news awaiting them +than they had themselves been able to obtain. Sir Morton's fussy +enquiries had brought no result--Miss Tabitha had scoured the +neighbourhood in her high dogcart, calling on the Ittlethwaites and +Mandeville Porehams, all in vain. Nobody knew anything. Nobody had +heard anything. The sudden exit of Maryllia from the scene took +everyone by surprise. And when Miss Pippitt began to hiss a +scandalous whisper concerning John Walden, and a possible intrigue +between him and the Lady of the Manor, the 'county' sat up amazed. +Here indeed was food for gossip! Here was material for 'local' +excitement! + +"Old Tabitha's jealous!--that's what it is!" said Bruce Ittlethwaite +of Ittlethwaite Park, to his maiden sisters,--"Ha-ha-ha! Old green- +and-yellow Tabitha is afraid she'll lose her pet parson! Dammit! A +pretty woman always starts this kind of nonsense. If it wasn't the +clergyman, it would be somebody else--perhaps Sir Morton himself--or +perhaps me! Ha-ha-ha! Dammit!" + +"I don't believe a word of it!" declared the eldest Miss +Ittlethwaite,--"I do not attend Mr. Walden's services myself, but I +am quite sure he is an excellent man--and a perfect gentleman. +Nothing that Tabitha Pippitt can ever say, will move me on that +point!" + +"I always had my suspicions!"--said Mrs. Mandeville Poreham, +severely, when she in her turn heard the news--"I heard that Miss +Vancourt had insisted--positively INSISTED on Mr. Walden's visiting +her nearly every day, and I trembled for him! MY girls have gone +quite crazy about Miss Vancourt ever since they met her at Sir +Morton Pippitt's garden-party, but _I_ have NEVER changed my +opinion. MY poor mother always taught me to be firm in my +convictions. And Miss Vancourt is a designing person. There's no +doubt of it. She affects the innocence of a child--but I doubt +whether I have ever met anyone QUITE so worldly and artful!" + +So the drops of petty gossip began to trickle,--very slowly at +first, and then faster and faster, as is their habitude in the +effort to wear away the sparkling adamant of a good name and +unblemished reputation. The Reverend Putwood Leveson, vengefully +brooding over the wrongs which he considered he had sustained at the +hands of Walden, as well as Julian Adderley, rode to and fro on his +bicycle from morn till dewy eye, perspiring profusely, and shedding +poisonous slanders almost as freely as he exuded melted tallow from +his mountainous flesh, aware that by so doing he was not only +ingratiating himself with the Pippitts, but also with Lord Roxmouth, +through whose influence he presently hoped to 'get a thing or two.' +Mordaunt Appleby, the Riversford brewer, and his insignificant +spouse, irritated at never having had the chance to 'receive' Lord +Roxmouth, were readily pressed into the same service and did their +part of scandal-mongering with right good-will and malignant +satisfaction. And in less than forty-eight hours' time there was no +name too bad for the absent Maryllia; she was 'mixed up' with John +Walden,--she had 'tried to entangle him'--there had been 'a scene +with him at the Manor,'--she was 'forward,' 'conceited'--and utterly +lost to any sense of propriety. Why did she not marry Lord Roxmouth? +Why, indeed! Many people could tell if they chose! Ah yes!--and with +this, there were sundry shakings of the head and shruggings of the +shoulders which implied more than whole volumes of libel. + +But while the county talked, the village listened, sagaciously +incredulous of mere rumour, quiescent in itself and perfectly +satisfied that whoever else was wrong, 'Passon Walden' in everything +he did, said, or thought, was sure to be right. Wherefore, until +they heard their 'man o' God's' version of the stories that were +being so briskly circulated, they reserved their own opinions. The +infallibility of the Supreme Pontiff was not more securely founded +in the Roman Catholic Ritual than the faith of St. Rest in the +'gospel according to John.' + + + + +XXVII + + +Meanwhile Walden himself, ignorant of all the 'local' excitement so +suddenly stirred up in his tiny kingdom, had arrived on a three +days' visit at the house, or to put it more correctly, at the +palace, of his friend Bishop Brent. It was, in strict reality a +palace, having been in the old days one of the residences of Henry +VII. Much of the building had been injured during the Cromwellian +period, and certain modern repairs to its walls had been somewhat +clumsily executed, but it still retained numerous fine old mullioned +windows, and a cloistered court of many sculptured arches still +eminently beautiful, though grey and crumbling under the touch of +the melancholy vandal, Time. The Bishop's study had formerly been +King Henry's audience chamber, and possessed a richly-wrought +ceiling of interlaced oak rafters, and projecting beams smoothly +polished at the ends and painted with royal emblems, from which +projections no doubt, in early periods, many a banner of triumph had +floated and many a knightly pennon. Bishop Brent was fond of this +room, and carefully maintained its ancient character in the style of +its furniture and general surroundings. The wide angle-nook and high +carved chimney-piece, supported by two sculptured angel-figures of +heroic size, was left unmodernised, and in winter the gaping recess +was filled with great logs blazing cheerily as in olden times, but +in summer, as now, it served as a picturesque setting for masses of +rare flowers which, growing in pots, or cut freshly and set in +crystal vases, were grouped together with the greatest taste and +artistic selection of delicate colouring, forming, as it seemed, a +kind of blossom-wreathed shrine, above which, against the carved +chimney itself, hung a wonderfully impressive picture of the Virgin +and Child. Placed below this, and slightly towarde the centre of the +room, was the Bishop's table-desk and chair, arranged so that +whenever he raised his head from his work, the serene soft eyes of +Mary, Blessed among Women, should mystically meet his own. And here +just now he sat at evening, deep in conversation with John Walden, +who with the perfect unselfishness which was an ingrained part of +his own nature, had for the time put aside or forgotten all his own +little troubles, in order to listen to the greater ones of his +friend. He had been shocked at the change wrought in seven years on +Brent's form and features. Always thin, he had now become so +attenuated as to have reached almost a point of emaciation,--his +dark eyes, sunk far back under his shelving brows, blazed with a +feverish brilliancy which gave an almost unearthly expression to his +pale drawn features, and his hand, thin, long, and delicate as a +woman's, clenched and unclenched itself nervously when he spoke, +with an involuntary force of which he was himself unconscious. + +"You have not aged much, Walden!" he said, thoughtfully regarding +his old college chum's clear and open countenance with a somewhat +sad smile--"Your eyes are the same blue eyes of the boy that linked +his arm through mine so long ago and walked with me through the +sleepy old streets of 'Alma Mater!' That time seems quite close to +me sometimes--and again sometimes far away--dismally, appallingly, +far away!" + +He sighed. Walden looked at him a little anxiously, but for the +moment said nothing. + +"You give me no response,"--continued Brent, with sudden +querulousness--"Since you arrived we have been talking nothing but +generalities and Church matters. Heavens, how sick I am of Church +matters! Yet I know you see a change in me. I am sure you do--and +you will not say it. Now you never were secretive--you never said +one thing and meant another--so speak the truth as you have always +done! I AM changed, am I not?" + +"You are,"--replied Walden, steadily--"But I cannot tell how, or in +what way. You look ill and worn out. You are overworked and +overwrought--but I think there is something else at the root of the +evil;--something that has happened during the last seven years. You +are not quite the man you were when you came to consecrate my church +at St. Rest." + +"St. Rest!" repeated the Bishop, musingly--"What a sweet name it is- +-what a still sweeter suggestion! Rest--rest!--and a saint's rest +too!--that perfect rest granted to all the martyrs for Christ!--how +safe and peaceful!--how sure and glorious! Would that such rest were +mine! But I see nothing ahead of me but storm and turmoil, and +stress of anguish and heartbreak, ending in--Nothingness!" + +Walden bent a little more forward and looked his friend full in the +eyes. + +"What is wrong, Harry?" he asked, with exceeding gentleness. + +At the old schoolboy name of bygone years, Brent caught and pressed +his hand with strong fervour. A smile lighted his eyes. + +"John, my boy, everything is wrong!" he said--"As wrong as ever my +work at college was, before you set it right. Do you think I forget! +Everything is wrong, I tell you! I am wrong,--my thoughts are +wrong,--and my conscience leaves me no peace day or night! I ought +not to be a Bishop--for I feel that the Church itself is wrong!" + +John sat quiet for a minute. Then he said-- + +"So it is in many ways. The Church is a human attempt to build +humanity up on a Divine model, and it has its human limitations. But +the Divine model endures!" + +Brent threw himself back in his chair and closed his eyes. + +"The Divine model endures--yes!" he murmured--"The Divine foundation +remains firm, but the human building totters and is insecure to the +point of utter falling and destruction!" Here, opening his eyes, he +gazed dreamily at the pictured face of the Madonna above him. +"Walden, it is useless to contend with facts, and the facts are, +that the masses of mankind are as unregenerate at this day as ever +they were before Christ came into the world! The Church is powerless +to stem the swelling tide of human crime and misery. The Church in +these days has become merely a harbour of refuge for hypocrites who +think to win conventional repute with their neighbours, by affecting +to believe in a religion not one of whose tenets they obey! +Blasphemy, rank blasphemy, Walden! It is bad enough in all +conscience to cheat one's neighbour, but an open attempt to cheat +the Creator of the Universe is the blackest crime of all, though it +be unnamed in the criminal calendar!" + +He uttered these words with intense passion, rising from his seat, +and walking up and down the room as he spoke. Walden watched his +restless passing to and fro, with a wistful look in his honest eyes. +Presently he said, smiling a little-- + +"You are my Bishop--and I should not presume to differ from you, +Brent! YOU must instruct ME,--not I you! Yet if I may speak from my +own experience---" + +"You may and you shall!"--replied Brent, swiftly--"But think for a +moment, before you speak, of what that experience has been! One +great grief has clouded your life--the loss of your sister. After +that, what has been your lot? A handful of simple souls set under +your charge, in the loveliest of little villages,--souls that love +you, trust you and obey you. Compared to this, take MY daily life! +An over-populated diocese--misery and starvation on all sides,--men +working for mere pittances,--women prostituting themselves to obtain +food--children starving--girls ruined in their teens--and over it +all, my wretched self, a leading representative of the Church which +can do nothing to remedy these evils! And worse than all, a Church +in which some of the clergy themselves who come under my rule and +dominance are more dishonourable and dissolute than many of the so- +called 'reprobates' of society whom they are elected to admonish! I +tell you, Walden, I have some men under my jurisdiction whom I +should like to see soundly flogged!--only I am powerless to order +the castigation--and some others who ought to be serving seven years +in penal servitude instead of preaching virtue to people a thousand +times more virtuous than themselves!" + +"I quite believe that!" said Walden, smiling--"I know one of them!" + +The Bishop glanced at him, and laughed. + +"You mean Putwood Leveson?" he said--"He seems a mischievous fool-- +but I don't suppose there is any real harm in him, is there?" + +"Real harm?"--and John flared up in a blaze of wrath--"He is the +most pernicious scoundrel that ever masqueraded in the guise of a +Christian!" + +The Bishop paused in his walk up and down, and clasping his hands +behind his back, an old habit of his, looked quizzically at his +friend. A smile, kindly and almost boyish, lightened the grey pallor +of his worn face. + +"Why, John!" he said--"you are actually in a temper! Your mental +attitude is evidently that of squared fists and 'Come on!' What has +roused the slumbering lion, eh?" + +"It doesn't need a lion to spring at Leveson,"--said Walden, +contemptuously--"A sheep would do it! The tamest cur that ever +crawled would have spirit enough to make a dash for a creature so +unutterably mean and false and petty! I may as well admit to you at +once that I myself nearly struck him!" + +"You did?" And Bishop Brent's grave dark eyes flashed with a sudden +suspicion of laughter. + +"I did. I know it was not Churchman-like,--I know it was a case of +'kicking against the pricks.' But Leveson's 'pricks' are too much +like hog's bristles for me to endure with patience!" + +The Bishop assumed a serious demeanour. + +"Come, come, let me hear this out!" he said--"Do you mean to tell me +that you--YOU, John--actually struck a brother minister?" + +"No--I do not mean to tell you anything of the kind, my Lord +Bishop!" answered Walden, beginning to laugh. "I say that I 'nearly' +struck him,--not quite! Someone else came on the scene at the +critical moment, and did for me what I should certainly have done +for myself had I been left to it. I cannot say I am sorry for the +impulse!" + +"It sounds like a tavern brawl,"--said the Bishop, shaking his head +dubiously--"or a street fight. So unlike you, Walden! What was it +all about?" + +"The fellow was slandering a woman,"--replied Walden, hotly-- +"Poisoning her name with his foul tongue, and polluting it by his +mere utterance--contemptible brute! I should like to have +horsewhipped him---" + +"Stop, stop!" interrupted the Bishop, stretching out his thin long +white hand, on which one single amethyst set in a plain gold ring, +shone with a pale violet fire--"I am not sure that I quite follow +you, John! What woman is this?" + +Despite himself, a rush of colour sprang to Walden's brows. But he +answered quite quietly. + +"Miss Vancourt,--of Abbot's Manor." + +"Miss Vancourt!" Bishop Brent looked, as he felt, utterly +bewildered. "Miss Vancourt! My dear Walden, you surprise me! Did I +not write to you--do you not know---" + +"Oh, I know all that is reported of her,"--said John, quickly--"And +I remember what you wrote. But it's a mistake, Brent! In fact, if +you will exonerate me for speaking bluntly, it's a lie! There never +was a gentler, sweeter woman than Maryllia Vancourt,--and perhaps +there never was one more basely or more systematically calumniated!" + +The Bishop took a turn up to the farther end of the room. Then he +came back and confronted Walden with an authoritative yet kindly +air. + +"Look me straight in the face, John!" + +John obeyed. There was a silence, while Brent scanned slowly and +with appreciative affection the fine intellectual features, brave +eyes, and firm, yet tender mouth of the man whom he had, since the +days of their youth together, held dearest in his esteem among all +other men he had ever known, while Walden, in his turn, bore the sad +and searching gaze without flinching. Then the Bishop laid one hand +gently on his shoulder. + +"So it has come, John!" he said. + +Then and then only the brave eyes fell,--then and then only the firm +mouth trembled. But Walden was not the man to shirk any pain or +confusion to himself in matters of conscience. + +"I suppose it has!" he answered, simply. + +The Bishop sat down, and, seemingly out of long habit, raised his +eyes to the blandly smiling Virgin and Child above him. + +"I am sorry!"--he murmured--"John, my dear old fellow, I am very +sorry---" + +"Why should you be sorry?" broke out Walden, impetuously, "There is +nothing to be sorry for, except that I am a fool! But I knew THAT +long ago, even if you did not!"--and he forced a smile--"Don't be +sorry for me, Brent!--I'm not in the least sorry for myself. Indeed, +if I tell you the whole truth, I believe I rather like my own folly. +It does nobody any harm! And after all it is not absolutely a +world's wonder that a decaying tree should, even in its decaying +process, be aware of the touch of spring. It should not make the +tree unhappy!" + +The Bishop raised his eyes. They were full of a deep melancholy. + +"We are not trees--we are men!" he said--"And as men, God has made +us all aware of the love of woman,--the irresistible passion that at +one time or another makes havoc or glory of our lives! It is the +direst temptation on earth. Worst of all and bitterest it is when +love comes too late,--too late, John!--I say in your case, it comes +too late!" + +John sighed and smiled. + +"Love--if it has come to me at all--is never too late,"--he said +with quiet patience,--"My dear Brent, don't you understand? This +little girl--this child--for she is nothing more than that to a man +of my years--has slipped into my life by chance, as it were, like a +stray sunbeam--no more! I feel her brightness--her warmth--her +vitality--and my soul is conscious of an animation and gladness +whenever she is near, of which she is the sole cause. But that is +all. Her pretty ways--her utter loneliness,--are the facts of her +existence which touch me to pity, and I would see her cared for and +protected,--but I know myself to be too old and too unworthy to so +care for and protect her. I want her to be happy, but I am fully +conscious that I can never make her so. Would you call this kind of +chill sentiment 'love'?" + +Brent regarded him steadfastly. + +"Yes, John! I think I should!--yes, I certainly should call 'this +chill sentiment' love! And tell me--have you never got out of your +depth in the water of this 'chill sentiment,' or found yourself +battling for dear life against an outbreak of volcanic fire?" + +Walden was silent. + +"I never thought,"--continued the Bishop, rather sorrowfully,--"when +I wrote to you about the return of Robert Vancourt's daughter to her +childhood's home, that she would in any serious way interfere with +the peace of your life, John! I told you just what I had heard--no +more. I have never seen the girl. I only know what people say of +her. And that is not altogether pleasing." + +"Do you believe what people say?" interrupted Walden, suddenly,--"Is +it not true that when a woman is pretty, intelligent, clean-souled +and pure-minded, and as unlike the rest of 'society' women as she +can well be, she is slandered for having the very virtues her rivals +do not possess?" + +"Quite true!"--said Brent--"and quite common. It is always the old +story--'Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not +escape calumny.' Do not imagine for a moment, John, that I am going +to run the risk of losing your friendship by repeating anything that +may have been said against the reputation or the character of Miss +Vancourt. I have always prayed that no woman might ever come between +us,"--and here a faint tinge of colour warmed the pallor of his +face--"And, so far, I fancy the prayer has been granted. And I do +not think that this--this--shall we call it glamour, John?--this +glamour, of the imagination and the senses, will overcome you in any +detrimental way. I cannot picture you as the victim of a 'society' +siren!" + +John smiled. A vision rose up before his eyes of a little figure in +sparkling white draperies--a figure that bent appealingly towards +him, while a soft childlike voice said--'I'm sorry! Will you forgive +me?' The tender lines round his mouth deepened and softened at the +mental picture. + +"She is not a society siren,"--he said, gently--"Poor little soul! +She is a mere woman, needing what woman best thrives upon--love!" + +"Well, she has been loved and sought in marriage for at least three +years by Lord Roxmouth,"--said the Bishop. + +"Has SHE been loved and sought, or her aunt's millions?" queried +Walden--"That is the point at issue. But my dear Brent, do not let +us waste time in talking over this little folly of mine--for I grant +you it is folly. I'm not sorry you have found it out, for in any +case I had meant to make a clean breast of it before we parted,"--he +hesitated--then looked up frankly--"I would rather you spoke no more +of it, Harry! I've made my confession. I admit I nearly struck +Leveson for slandering an innocent and defenseless woman,--and I +believe you'll forgive me for that. Next, I own that though I am +getting into the sere and yellow leaf, I am still conscious of a +heart,--and that I feel a regretful yearning at times for the joys I +have missed out of my life--and you'll forgive me for that too,--I +know you will! For the rest, draw a curtain over this little +weakness of mine, will you? I don't want to speak of it--I want to +fight it and conquer it." + +The Bishop stretched out a hand and caught Walden's in a close +grasp. + +"Right!"--he said--"Do that, and you will do well! It is all a +question of fighting and conquering, or--being conquered. But YOU +will never give in, John! You are not the man to yield to the wiles +of the devil. For there IS a devil!--I am sure of it!" And his dark +eyes flashed with a sudden wild light. "A cozening, crafty, lurking +devil, that sets temptation before us in such varied and pleasing +forms that it is difficult--sometimes impossible--to tell which is +right and which is wrong! Walden, we must escape from this devil--we +must escape!" + +He sprang up with an impulsive quickness which startled Walden, and +began to pace up and down the room again. + +"A mocking devil,"--he said--"a lying devil!--whispering from +morning till evening, and from evening till morning, doubts of God! +Doubts whether He, the Creator of worlds, really exists,-doubts as +to whether He, or It, is not some huge blind, deaf Force, grinding +its way on through limitless and eternal Production and Reproduction +to one end,--Annihilation! Walden, you must now hear MY confession! +These doubts are driving me mad! I cannot bear the thought of the +whirl of countless universes, immeasurable solar systems, crammed +with tortured life for which there seems to be no hope, no care, no +rescue, no future! I am unable to preach or to FEEL comfort for the +human race! The very tragedy of the Cross only brings me to one +result--that Truth is always crucified. The world prefers Falsehood. +So much so indeed that the Christian religion itself is little more +than a super-structure of lies raised above the sepulchre of a +murdered Truth. I told you in my letter I had serious thoughts of +resigning my bishopric. So I have. My spirit turns to Rome!" + +"Rome!" cried Walden--"What, YOU, Brent!--you think of going over to +Rome? What strange fantasy has seized you?" + +"Rome," said Brent, slowly, stopping in his restless walk--"is the +Mother of Creeds--the antique Muse of the world's history! Filled +with the blood of martyrs, hallowed by the memories of saints, she +is, she must always be, supreme in matters of faith--or +superstition!" And he smiled,--a wan and sorrowful smile--"Or even +idolatry, if you will! Emotionalism,--sensationalism in religion-- +these the craving soul must have, and these Rome gives! We must +believe,--mark you, Walden!--we must positively BELIEVE that the +Creator of all Universes was moved to such wrath against the +helpless human creature He had made, that he cursed that creature +forever for merely eating, like a child, fruit which had been +forbidden! And after that we must believe everything else that has +since followed in the track of the Woman, the Serpent and the Tree. +Now in the Church of England I find I cannot believe these things-- +in the Church of Rome I WILL believe, because I MUST! I will humble +myself in dust and ashes, and accept all--all. Anything is better +than Nothingness! I will be the lowest of lay brethren, and in +solitude and silence, make atonement for my unbelief. It is the only +way, Walden!--for me, it is the only way! To Her!" And he pointed up +to the picture of the Virgin and Child--"To Her, my vows! As Woman, +she will pity me--as Woman, she can be loved!" + +Walden heard this wild speech without any word or gesture of +interruption. Then, raising his eyes to the picture Brent thus +apostrophised, he said, quietly-- + +"When did you have that painted, Brent?" + +A sudden change came over the Bishop's features. He looked as though +startled by some vague terror. Then he answered, slowly: + +"Some years ago--in Florence. Why do you ask? It is a copy---" + +"Of HER likeness--yes!" said Walden, softly--"I saw that at once. +You had it done, of course! She was beautiful and good--she died +young. I know! But you have no right to turn your personal passion +and grief into a form of worship, Harry!" + +The Bishop gazed at him fixedly and solemnly. + +"You do not know,"--he murmured--"You have not seen what I have +seen! She has come to me lately--she, who died so long ago!--she has +come to me night after night, and she has told me to pray for her-- +'pray' she says--'pray that I may help to save your soul!' And I +must surely do as she bids. I must get away from this place--away +from this city of turmoil and wickedness, into some quieter comer of +the world,--some monastic retreat where I may end my days in peace,- +-I cannot fight my devils here--they are too strong for me!" + +"They will be too strong for you anywhere, if you are a coward!"-- +said Walden, impetuously. "Brent, I thought you had gotten the +victory over this old despair of yours long ago! I thought you had +made the memory of the woman you loved a noble spur to noble +actions! I never dreamed that it would be possible for you to brood +silently on your sorrow till you made it a cause of protest against +God's will! And worst and strangest of all is this frenzied idea of +yours to fly to the Church of Rome for shelter from yourself and +your secret misery, and there give yourself over to monasticism and +a silent, idolatrous worship,--not of Mary, the Mother of Christ,-- +but of the mere picture of the woman you loved! And you would pray +to THAT?--you would kneel before THAT?--you would pass long hours of +fasting and vigil, gazing at that face, till, like the 'stigmata,' +it is almost outlined in blood upon your heart? My dear Brent, is it +possible your brain is so shaken and your soul so feeble that you +must needs seek refuge in a kind of half-spiritual, half-sensuous +passion, which is absolute rank blasphemy?" + +At this the Bishop raised his head with an air of imperious +authority. + +"I cannot permit!---" he said, in unsteady accents--"You have no +right to speak to me in such a tone--it is not your place---" + +Then, suddenly, his voice broke, and throwing himself into his +chair, he dropped his head forward on the desk and covered it with +his hands in an attitude of the utmost abandonment and dejection. +The moisture rose to Walden's eyes,--he knew the great tragedy of +his friend's life--all comprised in one brief, romantic episode of +the adoring love, and sudden loss of a beautiful woman drowned by +accident in her own pleasure-boat on the very eve of her marriage +with him,--and be knew that just as deep and ardent as the man's +passion had been, so deep and ardent was his sorrow--a sorrow that +could never be consoled. And John sat silent, deeply moved in +himself, and ever and anon glancing upwards at the exquisite face of +the painted Virgin above him,--the face of the dead girl whom her +lover had thus sanctified. Presently Brent raised his head,--his +face was white and worn--his eyes were wet. + +"Forgive me, John!" he said--"I have been working hard of late, and +my nerves are unstrung. And--I cannot, I cannot forget her! And what +is more awful and terrible to me than anything is that I cannot +forgive God!" He uttered these words in an awed whisper. "I cannot! +I bear the Almighty a grudge for wrenching her life away from mine! +Of what use was it to be so cruel? Of what purpose to kill one so +young? If God is omnipotent, God could have saved her. But He let +her die! I tell you, Walden, that ever since I have been Bishop of +this diocese, I have tried to relieve sorrow and pain whenever I +have met with it--I have striven to do my duty, hoping against hope +that perhaps God would teach me--would explain the why and wherefore +of so much needless agony to His creatures--and that by discovering +reasons for the afflictions of others, I should learn to become +reconciled to my own. But no!--nothing has been made clear! I have +seen innocent women die in the tortures of the damned--while their +drunken husbands have lived to carouse over their coffins. +Children,--mere babes--are afflicted with diseases for which often +no cause can be assigned and no cure discovered--while over the +whole sweltering mass of human helplessness and ignorance, Death +stalks triumphant,--and God, though called upon for rescue with +prayers and tears, withdraws Himself in clouds of impenetrable +silence. It is all hopeless, useless, irremediable! That is why my +thoughts turn to Rome--I say, let me believe in SOMETHING, if it be +only a fairy tale! Let me hear grand music mounting to heaven, even +if human words cannot reach so high!--let me think that guardian +angels exist, even if there is nothing in space save a blind Chance +spawning life particles uselessly,--let my soul and senses feel the +touch of something higher, vaster, purer and better than what the +Church of England calls Christianity at this present day!" + +"And that 'something higher, vaster, purer and better'--would you +call it the Church of Rome?" asked Walden. "In suggestion,--in +emotion and poetic inspiration, yes!"--said Brent--"In theory and in +practice, no!" + +There was a pause. Walden sat for a few moments absorbed in anxious +thought. Then he looked up with a cheerful air. + +"Harry," he said--"Will you do me a favour? Promise that you will +postpone the idea of seceding, or as you put it, 'returning' to +Rome, for six months. Will you? At the end of that time we'll +discuss it again." + +The Bishop looked uneasy. + +"I would rather do what has to be done at once,"--he said. + +"Then I must talk to you straightly,"--continued John, bracing +himself up, and squaring his shoulders resolutely--"I must forget +that you are my Bishop, and speak just as man to man. All the facts +of the case can be summed up in one word--Selfishness! Pure +Selfishness, Harry!--and I never thought I should have had to +convict you of it!" + +Brent drew himself slowly up in his chair. + +"Selfishness!" he echoed, dreamily--"I can take anything from you, +John!--I did at college,--but--selfishness---" + +"Selfishness!" repeated John, firmly--"You have had to suffer a +grief--a great grief,--and because it was so sudden, so tragic and +overwhelming, you draw a mourning veil of your own across the very +face of God! You try to rule your diocese by the measure of your own +rod of affliction. And, finding that nothing is clear to you, +because of your own obstructive spirit, you would set up a fresh +barrier between yourself and Eternal Wisdom, by deserting your post +here, and separating yourself from all the world save the shadow of +the woman you yourself loved! Harry, my dear old friend, unless I +had heard this from your own lips, I should never have believed it +of you!" + +Brent sat heavily in his chair, sunk in a brooding melancholy. + +"'The heart knoweth its own bitterness!'"--he murmured wearily-- +"Your reproaches are just,--I know I deserve them, but they do not +rouse me. They do not stir one pulse in my soul! What have _I_ +learned of Eternal Wisdom?--what have _I_ seen? Nothing but cruelty +upon cruelty dealt out, not to the wicked, but to the innocent! And +because I protest against this, you call my spirit an obstructive +one--well!--it may be so! But, Walden, you have never loved!--you +have never felt all your life rush like a river to the sea of +passion!--not low, debasing passion, but passion born of vitality, +ardour, truth, hope, sympathy!--such emotion as most surely +palpitates through the whole body of the natural creation, else +there would be naught created. God Himself--if there be a God--must +be conscious of Love! Do we not say: 'God IS Love'?--and this too +while we suffer beneath His heavy chastisements which are truely +more like Hate! I repeat, Walden, you have never loved,--till now +perhaps--and even now you are scarcely conscious of the hidden +strength of your own feelings. But suppose--just for the sake of +argument--suppose this 'little girl' as you call her, Maryllia +Vancourt, were to die suddenly, would you not, as you express it, +'draw a mourning veil of your own across the face of God'?" + +Walden started as though suddenly wounded. If Maryllia were to die!' +He shuddered as the mere thought passed across his brain. 'If +Maryllia were to die!' Why then--then the world would be a blank-- +there would be no more sunshine!--no roses!--no songs of birds!-- +nothing of fairness or pleasure left in life--not for him, whatever +there might be for others. Was it possible that her existence meant +so much to him? Yes, it meant so much!--it had come to mean so much! +He felt his old friend's melancholy eyes upon him, and looking up +met their searching scrutiny with a serious and open frankness. + +"Honestly, I think I should die myself, or lose my senses!"--he +said--"And honestly, I hardly realised this,--which is just as much +selfishness on my part as any of which I hastily accused you,--till +you put it to me. I will not profess to have a stoicism beyond +mortal limits, Harry, nor should I expect such from you. But I WILL +say, that despite our human weakness, we must have courage!--we are +not men without it. And whether faith stands fast or falters, +whether God seems far off or very near, we must face and fight our +destiny--not run away from it! You want to run away,"--and he smiled +gravely--"or rather, just in the present mood of yours you think of +doing so--but I believe it is only a mood--and that you will not, +after putting your hand to the plough, turn back because of the +aridness or ungratefulness of the soil,--that would not be like you. +If one must needs perish, it is better to perish at one's post of +duty than desert over to the enemy." + +"I am not sure that Rome is an enemy;"--said the Bishop, musingly. + +To this Walden gave no reply, and the conversation fell into other +channels. But, during the whole time of his visit, John was forced +to realise, with much acute surprise and distress, that constant +brooding on grief,--and excessive spiritual emotion of an exalted +and sensuous kind, with much perplexed pondering on human evils for +which there seemed no remedy, had produced a painful impression of +life's despair and futility on Brent's mind,--an impression which it +would be difficult to eradicate, and which would only be softened +and possibly diminished by tenderly dealing with it as though it +were an illness, and gradually bringing about restoration and +recovery through the gentlest means. Though sometimes it was to be +feared that all persuasion would be useless, and that the scandalous +spectacle of an English Bishop seceding to the Church of Rome would +be exhibited with an almost theatrical effect in his friend's case. +For the ornate ritual which the Bishop maintained in his Cathedral +services was almost worthy of a Mass at St. Peter's. The old, simple +chaste English style of 'Morning Prayer' was exchanged for +'Matins,'--choristers perpetually chanted and sang,--crosses were +carried to and fro,--banners waved--processions were held--and the +'Via Crucis' was performed by a select number of the clergy and +congregation every Friday. + +"I never have this sort of thing in my church,"--said Walden, +bluntly, on one occasion--"My parishioners would not understand it." + +"Why not teach them to understand it?" asked the Bishop, dreamily. +They were standing together in the beautiful old Cathedral, now +empty save for their presence, and Brent's eyes were fixed with a +kind of sombre wistfulness on a great gold crucifix up on the altar. + +"Teach them to understand it?" echoed Walden, with a touch of sorrow +and indignation--"You are my Bishop, but if you commanded me to +teach them these 'vain repetitions' prohibited by the Divine Master, +I should disobey you!" + +The Bishop flushed red. + +"You disapprove?" + +"I disapprove of everything that tends to put England back again +into the old religious fetters which she so bravely broke and cast +aside,"--said John, warmly--"I disapprove of all that even hints at +the possibility of any part of the British Empire becoming the slave +of Rome!" + +Brent gave a weary gesture. + +"In religious matters it is wiser to be under subjection than +free,"--he said, with a sigh--"In a state of freedom we may think as +we please--and freedom of thought breeds doubt,--whereas in a state +of subjection we think as we MUST, and so we are gradually forced +into an attitude of belief. The spread of atheism among the English +is entirely due to the wild, liberty of opinion allowed tham by +their forms of faith." + +"I do not agree with you!"--declared Walden, firmly--"The spread of +atheism is due, not to freedom of opinion, nor forms of faith, but +simply to the laxity and weakness of the clergy." + +The Bishop looked at him with a smile. + +"You always speak straight out, John!" he said--"You always did! And +strange to say, I like you all the better for it. I could, if I +chose, both reprove and command you--but I will do neither. You must +take your own way, as you always have done. But there is a flavour +of Rome even in your little church of St. Rest,--your miracle +shrine,--your unknown saint in the alabaster coffin. You and your +parishioners kneel before that every Sunday." + +"True--but we do not kneel to IT,--nor do we pray through It,"-- +replied Walden--"It stays in the chancel because it was found in the +chancel. But it does not make a miracle shrine' as you say,--there +is nothing miraculous about it." + +"If it contains the body of a Saint,"--said the Bishop, slowly--"it +MUST be miraculous! If, in the far-gone centuries, the prayers and +tears of sorrowful human beings have bedewed that cold stone, some +efficacy, some tenderness, some vitality, born of these prayers and +tears, must yet remain! Walden, we preach the supernatural--do we +not believe in it?" + +"The Divine supernatural--yes!" answered Walden,--"But---" The +Bishop interrupted him by a gesture of his delicate hand. + +"There are no 'buts' in the matter, John,"--he said, quietly--"What +is supernatural is so by its own nature. The Divine is the Human, +the Human is the Divine. In all and through all things the Spirit +moves and makes its way. Our earth and ourselves are but particles +of matter, worked by the spirit or essence of creative force. This +spirit we can neither see nor touch, therefore we call it super- +natural. But it permeates all things,--the stone as completely as +the flower. It circulates through that alabaster sarcophagus in your +church, as easily as through your own living veins. Hence, as I say, +if the mortal remains of a saint are enshrined within that +reliquary, the spirit or 'soul' enveloping it MAY work 'miracles,' +for all we dare to know!" He paused, and looking kindly at Walden's +grave and somewhat troubled face, added--"Some day, when we are in +very desperate straits, John, we will am what your saint can do for +us!" + +He smiled. Walden returned the smile, but nevertheless was conscious +of a sorrowful sense of regret at what he considered his friend's +leaning toward superstitious observances and idolatrous ceremonies. +At the same time he well knew that any violent opposition on the +subject would be worse than useless in the Bishop's present mood. He +therefore contented himself with, as he mentally said, 'putting in +the thin end of the wedge'--and,--carefully steering clear of all +controversial matters,--contrived in a great measure to reassert the +old magnetic sway he had been wont to exercise over Brent's more +pliable mind when at college--so that before they parted, he had +obtained from him a solemn promise that there should be no +'secession' or even preparation for secession to Rome, till six +months had elapsed. + +"And if you would only put away that picture,"--said Walden, +earnestly, pointing towards the 'Virgin and Child'--"Or rather, if +you would have another one painted of the sweet woman you loved as +she really was in life, it would be wiser and safer for your own +peace." + +The Bishop shook his head. + +"The Virgin and Child are a symbol of all humanity,"--he said-- +"Mother and Son,--Present and Future! Woman holds the human race in +her arms--at her breast!--without her, Chaos would come again! And +for me, all Womanhood is personified in that one face!" + +He raised his eyes to the picture with an almost devout passion--and +then abruptly turned away. The conversation was not renewed again +between them, but when Walden parted from his friend, he had the +satisfaction of knowing that he left him in a brighter, more hopeful +and healthful condition, cheered, soothed and invigorated by the +exchange of that mutual confidence and close sympathy which had +linked their two lives together in boyhood, and which held them +still subtly and tenderly responsive to each other's most intimate +emotions as men. + + + + +XXVIII + + +Arriving home at his own domain late on the Saturday night, Walden +had no opportunity to learn anything of the incidents which had +occurred during his brief absence. Letters were waiting for him, but +he opened none, and shut himself up in his study at once to prepare +his next day's sermon. He wrote on far into the night, long after +all the servants of his household had retired to rest, and overslept +himself the next morning in consequence, therefore his preparation +for the eleven o'clock service were necessarily somewhat hurried, +and he had not time to say more than a cheery 'Good-morning' even to +Bainton, whom he passed on his way into the church, or to Adam +Frost, though he fancied that both, men looked at him somewhat +curiously, as with an air of mingled doubt and enquiry. Once within +the sacred building he was conscious of an exceptionally crowded +congregation. None that he could see were missing from their usual +places. Maryllia certainly was not there,--but as she was admittedly +not a church-goer, he did not expect her to be present. Badsworth +Hall was entirely unrepresented, much to his relief; neither Sir +Morton Pippitt nor Lord Roxmouth, nor Mr. Marius Longford were +anywhere visible. Old Josey Letherbarrow sat in his usual corner,-- +everything was precisely the same as it was wont to be--and yet a +sense of vague trouble oppressed him,--he saw, or thought he saw, an +expression on some of the faces of his parishioners which was new to +him, and he felt instinctively that some disturbing element had +found its way into the peace of the village, though what the trouble +could be, he was at a loss to imagine. He chose as his text: 'What +went ye out for to see? A reed shaken with the wind?' and preached +thereon with wonderful force, simplicity, eloquence and fervour-- +though all the time he spoke he wondered why his people stared at +him so persistently, and why so many round eyes in so many round +faces appeared to express such a lively, not to say questioning +curiosity. + +After service, however, the whole mystery was cleared up. Bainton, +in his Sunday best, with hat in hand, presented himself at the +garden gate on his master's return from the church to the rectory, +and after a word or two was admitted into the study. Bainton, honest +as the daylight, and sturdy in his principles as an oak in its +fibres, had determined to have 'no humbuggin' wi' Passon.' And in a +few words, spoken with a great deal of feeling and rough eloquence, +he had told all,--how Miss Vancourt had gone away 'suddint-like' +from the Manor,--and how it was said and reported all through the +county and neighbourhood that she had gone because her engaged +husband, Lord Roxmouth, had caught her 'makin' love' to a parson, +that parson being no other than St. Rest's own beloved 'man o' God,' +John Walden. And that Lord Roxmouth had at once gone after her, and +that neither of the twain 'weren't never comin' back no more.' So +said Bainton, twirling his cap round, and fixing his eyes +sympathetically on his master's face,--eyes as faithful as those of +the dog Nebbie, who clambered at his master's knee, equally gazing +up at him with a fondness exceeding all speech. + +John Walden sat, white and rigid, in his chair and heard the tale +out to its end. + +"Is that all?" he asked, when Bainton had concluded. + +"That's all, an' ain't it enough, Passon?" queried Bainton in +somewhat dismal accents. "Not that I takes in 'arf wot I hears, but +from the fust I sez you should know every bit on it, an' if no one +else 'ad the 'art or the pluck to tell ye straight out, I'd tell ye +myself. For that old Miss Tabitha's got a tongue as long as a +tailor's yard-measure wot allus measures a bit oif to 'is own good, +an' Sir Morton Pippitt he do nothin' but run wild-like all over the +place a-talkin' of it everywhere, an' old Putty Leveson, he's up at +the 'All, day in, an' day out, tellin' 'ow you was goin' to hit 'im +in the eye--hor-hor-hor!--an' why didn't ye do it, Passon?--'twould +a' been a real Gospel mercy!--an' 'ow 'twas all about Miss Vancourt, +till Mr. Hadderley 'e come up an throwed 'im over in the road on 'is +back which makes me think all the better o' that young man, +'owsomever, I never took to 'im afore. But though he's all skin an' +bone an' long 'air as red as a biled carrot, he's got a fist of 'is +own, that's pretty plain, an' if he knocked down old Putty Leveson +it shows 'e's got some sense in 'im as well as sperrit. For it's all +over the place that there's trouble about Miss Vancourt, an' you may +take my wurrd for it, Passon, they don't leave the poor little leddy +alone, nor you neither, an' never takes into their minds as 'ow +you're old enough to be 'er father. That Miss Tabitha don't spare no +wurrds agin 'er--an' as ye know, Passon, she's a leddy wot's like +curdled cream all gone wrong in a thunderstorm. Anyways, I thought +it best to tell ye straight out an' no lyin' nor trickin'--an' if +I've stepped over my dooty, I 'umbly axes pardin, but I means well, +Passon,--I means well,--I do reely now!" + +Walden looked up,--his eyes were glittering--his lips were pate and +dry. + +"I know-I know!"--he said, speaking with an effort--"You're an +honest fellow, Bainton!--and--and--I thank you! Tou not only mean +well--you have done well. But it's a lie, Bainton!--it's all a +wicked, damnable lie!" + +He sprang to his feet as he said this, the wrath in his eyes +flashing a steel-like lightning. + +"It's a lie!" he repeated--"Do you understand? A cruel, abominable +lie!" + +Bainton twirled his cap sympathetically. + +"So it be, Passon,"--he murmured--"So it be--I know'd that all +along! It's a lie set goin' by that fine gentleman rascal, Lord +Roxmouth, wot can't get Miss Maryllia and 'er aunt's money nohow. +Lor' bless ye, I sees that plain enough! But take it 'ow we will, a +lie's a nasty sort o' burr to stick to a good name, 'speshully a +name like yours, Passon,--an' when it comes to that I feel that +moithered an' worrited-like not knowin' 'ow to pick the burr off +again. An' Lord Roxmouth he be gone away or mebbe you could a' had +it out wi' him---" + +"That will do, Bainton!"--said Walden, interrupting him by a +gesture--"Say no more about it, please! I'm glad you've spoken,--I'm +glad I know! But,--let it rest there! Never allude to it again!" + +Bainton glanced up timorously at his master's pale set face. + +"Ain't nothin' goin' to be done?" he faltered anxiously--"Nothin' to +say as 'ow it's all a lie---" + +"Nothing on my part!"--said Walden, quickly and sternly, "The best +answer to such low gossip and slander is silence. You understand?" + +His look was a command, and Bainton felt it to be such. Shuffling +about a little, he murmured something about the 'apples comin' on +fine in the orchard'--as if Walden's three days' absence had somehow +or other accelerated their ripening, and then slowly and reluctantly +retired, deeply dejected in his own mind. + +"For silence gives consent," he argued dolefully with himself-- +"That's copybook truth! Yet o' coorse 'tain't to be expected as +Passon would send for the town-crier from Riversford to ring a bell +through the village an' say as 'ow he 'adn't nothin' to dp with Miss +Vancourt nor she with 'im. Onny the worst of it is that in this +wurrld lies is allus taken for truth since the beginnin', when the +Sarpint told the first big whopper in the Garden of Eden an' took in +poor silly Eve. An' ye can't contradict a lie somehow without makin' +it look more a truth than ever,--that's the way o' the thing. An' it +do stick!--Passon himself 'ull find that out,--it do stick, it do +reely now!" + +Meantime, Walden, left alone, gave himself up to a tumult of misery +and self-torture. His sensitive nature shrank from the breath of +vulgar scandal like the fine frond of delicate foliage from the +touch of a coarse finger. He had never before been associated with +the faintest rumour of it,--his life had been too simple, too +austere, and too far removed from all the trumpery shows and petty +intrigues of society. He felt himself now in a manner debased by +having had to listen with enforced patience to Bainton's rambling +account of the gossip going on in the neighbourhood, and despite +that worthy servitor's disquisition on the subject, he could not +imagine how it had arisen, unless his quarrel with Putwood Leveson +were the cause. It was all so sudden and unlooked for! Maryllia had +gone away,--and that fact of itself was sufficient to make darkness +out of sunshine. He could not quite realise it. And not only had she +gone away, but some slanderous story had been concocted concerning +her in connection with himself, which was being bandied about on all +the tongues of the village and county. How it had arisen he could +not understand. He was, of course, unaware of the part Lord Roxmouth +had played in the matter, and in his ignorance of the true source of +the mischief, tormented his mind with endless fancies and +perplexities, all of which helped to increase his annoyance and +agitation. Pacing restlessly up and down his study, his eyes +presently fell on the little heap of letters which had accumulated +on his table during his brief absence, all as yet unopened. Turning +them over indifferently, he came suddenly on one small sealed note, +inscribed as having been left 'by hand,' addressed to him in the +bold frank writing to which he had once, not so very long ago, felt +such an inexplicable aversion when Mrs. Spruce was the recipient of +a first letter from the same source. Now he snatched the little +missive up with a strangely impulsive ardour, and being quite alone, +indulged himself in the pleasure of kissing the firm free pen- +strokes with all the passion of a boy. Then opening it, he read: + +"DEAR MR. WALDEN,--You will be surprised to find that I have gone +away from the dear home I love so well, and I daresay you will think +me very capricious. But please do not judge me hastily, or believe +everything you may hear of me from others. I am very sorry to go +away just now, but circumstances leave me no other choice. I should +like to have bidden you good-bye, as I could perhaps have explained +things to you better, but old Josey Letherbarrow tells me you have +gone to see the Bishop on business, so I leave this note myself just +to say that I hope you will think as kindly of me as you can now I +am gone. Please go into the Manor gardens as often as you like, and +let the sick and old people in the village have plenty of the +flowers and fruit. By doing this you will please me very much. My +agent, Mr. Stanways, will be quite at your service if you ever want +his assistance. Perhaps I ought just to mention that Lord Roxmouth +overheard our conversation in the picture-gallery that night of the +dinner-party. He was very rude about it. I tell you this in case you +should see him, but I do not think you will. Good-bye! Try to forget +that I smoked that cigarette!--Your sincere friend," + "MARYLLIA VANCOURT." + +As he perused these lines, Walden alternately grew hot and cold--red +and pale. All was clear to him now!-it was Lord Roxmouth who had +played the spy and eavesdropper! He recalled every little detail of +the scene in the picture-gallery and at once realised how much a +treacherous as well as jealous and vindictive man could make of it. +Maryllia's hand laid so coaxingly on his arm,--Maryllia's face so +sweetly and pleadingly upturned,--Maryllia's half-tender tremulous +voice with its 'Will you forgive me?'--and then--his own impetuous +words!--the way he had caught her hand and kissed it!--why his very +look must have betrayed him to the 'noble and honourable' detective, +part of whose distinguished role it was to listen at doors and +afterwards relate to an inquisitive and scandal-loving society all +that he heard within. By degrees he grasped the whole situation. He +realised that his name and honour lay at the mercy of this man +Roxmouth, who under the circumstances of the constant check put upon +his mercenary aims, would certainly spare no pains to injure both. +And he felt sick at heart. + +Locking Maryllia's note carefully in his desk, he stepped into his +garden and walked up and down the lawn slowly with bent head, Nebbie +trotting after him with a sympathetically disconsolate air. And +gradually it dawned upon him that Maryllia had possibly--nay very +probably--gone away for his sake,--to make things easier for him--to +remove her presence altogether from his vicinity-and so render +Roxmouth's tale-bearing, with its consequent malicious gossip, +futile, till of itself it died away and was forgotten. As this idea +crossed his mind and deepened into conviction, his eyes filled with +a sudden smarting moisture. + +"Poor child!" he said, half aloud--"Poor little lonely child!" + +Then a fresh thought came to him,--one which made the blood run more +quickly through his veins and caused his heart to pulsate with quite +a foolish joy. If--if she had indeed gone away out of a sweet +womanly wish to save him from what she imagined might cause him +embarrassment or perplexity, then--then surely she cared! Yes--she +must care for him greatly as a friend,--though only as a friend--to +be willing to sacrifice the pleasure of passing all the summer in +the old home to which she had so lately returned, merely to relieve +him of any difficulty her near society might involve. If she cared! +Was such a thing--could such a thing be possible? Tormented by many +mingled feelings of tenderness, regret and pain, John pondered his +own heart's problem anxiously, and tried to decide the best course +to pursue,--the best for her--the best for himself. He was not long +in coming to a decision, and once resolved, he was more at ease. + +When he celebrated the evening service that Sunday the garrulous +Bainton saw, much to his secret astonishment, that the effect of his +morning's communication had apparently left no trace on his master's +ordinary demeanour, except perhaps to add a little extra gravity to +his fine strong features, and accentuate the reserve of his +accustomed speech and manner. His habitual dignity was even greater +than usual,--his composed mien and clear steadfastness of eye had +lost nothing of their quelling and authoritative influence,--and so +far as his own manner and actions showed, the absence or presence of +Miss Vancourt was a matter to him of complete unconcern. His visit +to his friend the Bishop had 'done 'im a power o' good'--said his +parishioners, observing him respectfully, as, Sunday being over and +the week begun, he went about among them on his accustomed round of +duty, enquiring after the poultry and the cattle with all the zeal +expected of him. The name of Miss Vancourt seldom passed his lips,-- +when other people spoke of her, either admiringly, questioningly or +suggestively, he merely listened, offering no opinion. He denied +himself to all 'county' visitors on plea of press of work,--he never +once went to Abbot's Manor or entered the Manor grounds--and the +only persons with whom he occasionally interchanged hospitalities +were Julian Adderley and the local doctor, 'Jimmy' Eorsyth. +Withdrawing himself in this fashion into closer seclusion than ever, +his life became almost hermit-like, for except in regard to his +daily parish work, he seldom or never went beyond the precincts of +his own garden. + +Days went on, weeks went on,--and soon, too soon, summer was over. +The melancholy autumn shook down the once green leaves, all curled +up in withering death-convulsions, from the branches of the trees +now tossing in chill wind and weeping mists of rain. No news had +been received by anyone in the village concerning Maryllia. The +'Sisters Gemini,' Lady Wicketts and Miss Fosby, had departed from +Abbot's Manor when the time of their stay had concluded, and neither +of the twain had given the slightest hint to any enquirer, as to the +probable date of the return of the mistress of the domain. Sir +Morton Pippitt at last got tired of talking scandal for which there +seemed no visible or tangible foundation, and even his daughter +Tabitha began to wonder whether after all there was not some +exaggeration in the story Lord Roxmouth had given her to sow like +rank seed upon the soil of daily circumstance? She never saw Walden +by any chance,--on one occasion she ventured to call, but he was +'out' as usual. Neither could she persuade Julian Adderley to visit +at Badsworth Hall. A veil of obscurity and silence was gradually but +surely drawn between St. Rest and the outlying neighbourhood so far +as its presiding ruler John Walden was concerned, while within the +village his reticence and reserve were so strongly marked that even +the most privileged person in the place, Josey Letherbarrow, awed at +his calm, cold, almost stern aspect, hesitated to speak to him +except on the most ordinary matters, for fear of incurring his +displeasure. + +Meanwhile the village sorely missed the bright face and sweet ways +of 'th' owld Squire's gel'--and many of the inhabitants tried to get +news of her through Mrs. Spruce, but all in vain. That good lady, +generally so talkative, was for once in her life more than +discreetly dumb. All that she would say was that she "didn't know +nothink. Miss Maryllia 'ad gone abroad an' all 'er letters was sent +to London solicitors. Any other address? No--no other address. The +servants was to be kep' on--no one wasn't goin' to lose their places +if they behaved theirselves, which please the Lord, they will do!"-- +she concluded, with much fervour. Bennett, the groom, was entrusted +with the care of the mares Cleo and Daffodil, and might be seen +exercising them every day on the open moors beyond the village, +accompanied by the big dog Plato,--and so far as the general +management of affairs was concerned, that was ably undertaken by the +agent Stanways, who though civil and obliging to all the tenantry, +had no news whatever to give respecting the absence or the probable +return of the lady of the Manor. The Reverend Putwood Leveson +occasionally careered through the village on his bicycle, +accompanied by Oliver Leach who bestrode a similar machine, and both +individuals made a point of grinning broadly as they passed the +church and rectory of St. Rest, jerking their fingers and thumbs at +both buildings with expressively suggestive contempt. + +And by and by the people began to settle down, into the normal +quietude which had been more or less their lot, before Maryllia, +with her vivacious little musical protegee Cicely Bourne had +awakened a new interest and animation in the midst of their small +community,--and they began to resign themselves to the idea that her +'whim' for residing once more in the home of her childhood had +passed, and that she would now, without doubt, marry the future Duke +of Ormistoune, and pass away from the limited circle of St. Rest to +those wider spheres of fashion, the splendours of which, mere +country-folk are not expected to have more than the very faintest +glimmering conception. Even in that independent corner of opinion, +the tap-room of the 'Mother Huff,' her name was spoken with almost +bated breath, though Mr. Netlips was not by any means loth to spare +any flow of oratorical eloquence on the subject. + +"I think, Mr. Buggins," he said one evening, addressing 'mine host' +with due gravity--"I think you will recall to your organisation +certain objective propositions I made with regard to Miss Vancourt, +when that lady first entered into dominative residence at Abbot's +Manor. Personally speaking, I have no discrepancies to suggest +beyond the former utterance. Matters in which I have taken the +customary mercantile interest have culminated with the lady to the +satisfaction of all sides. Nothing has been left standing +controversially on my books. Nevertheless it would be repudiative to +say that I have sophisticated my previous opinion. I said then, and +I confirm the observation, that a heathen cannot enjoy the +prospective right of the commons." + +"I s'pose,"--said Mr. Buggins, meditatively in reference to this +outburst--"you means, Mr. Netlips, that Miss Vancourt is a kind of +heathen?" + +Mr. Netlips nodded severely. + +"'Cos she don't go to church?" suggested Dan Ridley, who as usual +was one of the tap-room talkers. Again Mr. Netlips nodded. + +"Well," said Dan, "she came to church once an' brought her friends-- +-" + +"Late,--very late,"--interposed Mr. Netlips, solemnly--"The +tardiness of her entrance was marked by the strongest decorum. The +strongest, the most open decorum! Deplorable decorum!" + +"What's decorum?" enquired Mr. Buggins, anxiously. + +Mr. Netlips waved one fat hand expressively. + +"Decorum,"--he said--"is--well!--decorum." + +Buggins scratched his head dubiously. Dan Ridley looked perplexed. +There was a silence,--the men listening to the wailing of a rising +wind that was beginning to sweep round the house and whistle down +the big open chimney, accompanied by pattering drops of rain. + +"Summer's sheer over,"--said a labourer, lifting his head from his +tankard of ale--"Howsomever, we're all safe this winter in the worst +o' weather. Rents are all down at 'arf what they was under Oliver +Leach, thanks to the new lady, so whether she's a decorum or not +don't matter to me. She's a right good sort--so here's to her!" + +And he drained off his ale at one gulp with a relish, several men +present following his example. + +"Passon Walden,"--began Dan Ridley--"Passon Walden---" + +But here there was a sudden loud metallic crash. Buggins had +overturned two empty pewter-mugs on his counter. + +"No gossiping o' Passon Walden allowed 'ere,"--he said,--"Not while +I'm master o' this public!" + +"Leeze majestas,"--proclaimed Mr. Netlips, impressively--"You're +right, Buggins--you're quite right! Leeze majestas would be entirely +indigenous--entirely so!" + +An awkward pause ensued. 'Leeze majestas' in all its dark +incomprehensibility had fallen like a weight upon the tavern +company, and effectually checked any further conversation. It was +one of those successful efforts of Mr. Netlips, which, by its +ponderous vagueness and inscrutability, produced an overwhelming +effect. There was nothing to be said after it. + +The gold and crimson glory of autumn slowly waned and died,--and the +village began to look very lonely and dreary. Heavy rains fell and +angry gales blew,--so that when dark November came glooming in, with +lowering skies, there was scarcely so much as a leaf of russet or +scarlet Virginian creeper clinging to roof or wall. The woods around +Abbot's Manor were leafless except where the pines and winter laurel +grew in thick clusters, and where several grand old hollies showed +their scarlet berries ripening among the glossy green. The Manor +itself however looked wide-awake and cheerful,--smoke poured up from +the chimneys and glints of firelight sparkled through the windows,-- +all the shutters, which had been put up after the departure of the +'Sisters Gemini,' were taken down--blinds were raised and curtains +drawn back,--and as soon as these signs and tokens were manifested, +people were not slow in asking Mrs. Spruce whether Miss Vancourt was +coming back for Christmas? But to all enquiries that estimable dame +gave the same answer. She 'didn't know nothink.' The groom Bennett +was equally reticent. He had received 'no orders.' Mr. Stanways, the +agent, and his wife, both of whom had become very friendly with all +the villagers, were cheerfully talkative on every subject but one,-- +that of Miss Vancourt and her movements. All they could or would say +was that her return was 'quite uncertain.' Fires were lighted in the +Manor--oh yes!--to keep the house well aired--and windows were +opened for the same purpose,--but beyond that--'really," said Mr. +Stanways, smiling pleasantly--'I can give no information!' + +The days grew shorter, gloomier and colder,--and soon, when the +chill nip of winter began to make itself felt in grim damp earnest, +the whole county woke up from the pleasant indolence into which the +long bright summer had steeped it, and responded animatedly to the +one pulse of vitality which kept it going. The hunting season began. +Old, otherwise dull men, started up into the semblance of youth +again, and sprang to their saddles with almost as much rigour and +alertness as boys,--and Reynard with his cubs ruled potently the +hour. The first 'meet' of the year was held at Ittlethwaite Park,-- +and for days before it took place nothing else was talked of. +Hunting was really the one occupation of the gentry of the +district,--everything else distinctly 'bored' them. Many places in +England are entirely under the complete dominion of this particular +form of sport,--places, where, if you do not at least talk about +hunting and nothing BUT hunting, you are set down as a fool. +Politics, art, literature,--these matters brought into conversation +merely excite a vacuous stare and yawn,--and you may consider +yourself fortunate if, in alluding to such things at all, you are +not considered as partially insane. To obtain an ordinary reputation +for common-sense in an English hunting county, you must talk horse +all day and play Bridge all night,--then and then only will you have +earned admission into these 'exclusive' circles where the worth of a +quadruped exceeds the brain of a man. + +The morning of the meet dawned dully--yet now and then the sun shone +fitfully through the clouds, lighting up with a cold sparkle the +thick ivy, wet with the last night's rain, which clung to the walls +of Walden's rectory. There was a chill wind, and the garden looked +bleak and deserted, though it was kept severely tidy, Bainton never +failing to see that all fallen leaves were swept up every afternoon +and all weeds 'kep' under.' But there was no temptation to saunter +down the paths or across the damp lawn in such weather, and Walden, +seated by a blazing fire in his study, with Nebbie snoozing at his +feet, was sufficiently comfortable to be glad that no 'parochial' +duties called him forth just immediately from his warm snuggery. He +had felt a little ailing of late--'the oncoming of age and +infirmity,' he told himself, and he looked slightly more careworn. +The strong restraint he had imposed upon himself since he knew the +nature of the scandal started by Lord Roxmouth, and the loyal and +strict silence he had maintained on the subject that was nearest and +dearest to his own heart, had been very trying to him. There was no +one to whom he could in any way unburden his mind. Even to his +closest friend, Bishop Brent, he had merely written the briefest of +letters, informing him that Miss Vancourt had left Abbot's Manor for +a considerable time,--but no more than this. He longed passionately +for news of Maryllia, but none came. The only person to whom he +sometimes spoke of her, but always guardedly, was Julian Adderley. +Julian had received one or two letters from Cicely Bourne,--but they +were all about her musical studies, and never a word of Maryllia in +them. And Julian was almost as anxious to know what had become of +her as Walden himself, the more so as he heard constantly from +Marius Longford, who never ceased urging him to try and discover her +whereabouts. Which request proved that, for once. Lord Roxmouth had +been foiled, and that even he with all his various social detectives +at work, had lost all trace of her. + +On this particular morning of the opening of the hunting season, +Walden sat by the fire reading,--or trying to read. He was conscious +of a great depression,--a 'fit of the blues,' which he attributed +partly to the damp, lowering weather. Idly he turned over the leaves +of a first edition of Tennyson's poems,--pausing here and there to +glance at a favourite lyric or con over a well-remembered verse, +when the echo of a silvery horn blown clear on the wintry silence +startled him out of his semi-abstraction. Rising, he went +instinctively to the window, though from that he could see nothing +but his own garden, looking blank enough in its flowerless +condition, the only bright speck in it being a robin sitting on a +twig hard by, that ruffled its red breast prettily and blinked its +trustful eye at him with a friendly air of sympathy and recognition. +He listened attentively for a moment and heard the approaching trot +and gallop of horses,--then suddenly recalling the fact that the +hounds were to meet that day at Ittlethwaite Park, he took his hat +and went out to see if any of the hunters were passing by. + +A wavering mass of colour gleamed at the farther end of the village +as he looked down the winding road;--scarlet coats, white vests and +buckskin breeches showed bravely against the satiny brown and greys +of a fine group of gaily prancing steeds that came following after +the huntsmen, the hounds and the whippers-in, and a cheery murmur of +pleasant voices, broken with an occasional musical ring of laughter, +dispersed for a time the heaviness of the rainy air. Something +unusually pleasant seemed to animate the faces of all who composed +the hunting train as they came into view,--Miss Arabella +Ittlethwaite, for example, portly of bulk though she was, sat in her +saddle with an almost mirthful lightness, her good-natured fat face +all smiles,--while her brother Bruce, laughing heartily over +something which had evidently tickled his fancy, looked more like +thirty than sixty, so admirably did his 'pink' become him, and so +excellently well did he ride. Walden saluted them as they passed, +and they gave him a pleasant 'good-day.' But,--what was that sudden +flash of deep purple, which the fitful sun, peering sulkily through +grey clouds, struck upon quickly with a slanting half-smile of +radiance? What--and who was the woman riding lightly, with uplifted +head like a queen, in the midst of the company, surrounded by all +the younger men of the neighbourhood who, keeping their horses close +on either side of her, appeared to be trying to outrival each other +in eager attentions, in questions and answers, in greetings and hat- +liftings, and general exchange of courtesies? Walden rubbed his +eyes, and gazed and gazed,-anon his heart gave a wild leap, and he +felt himself growing deadly pale. Had the portrait of 'Mary Elia +Adelgisa de Vaignecourt' in Abbot's Manor come visibly to life?--or +was it, could it be indeed,--Maryllia? + +He would gladly have turned away, but some stronger force than his +own held him fast where he stood, stricken with surprise, and a +gladness that was almost fear. The swaying gleam of purple came +nearer and nearer, and resolved itself at last into definite shape,- +-Maryllia's face, Maryllia's eyes! Almost mechanically he half +opened his gate as all the hunters went trotting by, and she alone +reined in her mare 'Cleopatra' and spoke to him. + +"How do you do, Mr. Walden!" + +He looked up--and looking, smiled. What a child she was after all!-- +full of quaint vanities surely, and naive coquetry! For her riding- +dress was the exact copy of that worn by her pictured ancestress +"Mary Elia,'--even to the three-cornered hat and the tiny rose +fastened in the bodice which was turned back with embroidered gold +revers,--so that the 'lady in the vi'let velvet' appeared before him +as it were, re-incarnated,--and the pouting lips, sweet eyes and +radiant hair were all part of the witch-glamour and mystery! +Mastering his thoughts with an effort, he raised his hat in his +usual quietly courteous way. + +"This is a great surprise, Miss Vancourt!" he said, lightly, though +his voice trembled a little--"And a happy one! The villagers will be +delighted to see you back again! When did you return?" + +"Last night,"--she answered, fixing her frank gaze fully upon him +and noting with a sharp little pang of compunction that he looked +far from well--"I felt I MUST be here for the first meet of the +season! I've been staying in an old convent on the Breton coast,-- +such a dear quaint place! And I think,"--here she nodded her pretty +head wisely--"I THINK I've brought you enough stained glass to quite +finish your rose-window! I've been busy collecting it ever since I +left here. Gently, Cleo!--gently, my beauty!"--this, as her mare +pawed the ground restlessly and sprang forward--"Come and see me to- +morrow, Mr. Walden! I shall expect you!" + +Waving her gloved hand she cantered off and rejoined the rest of the +hunters going on ahead. Once she turned in her saddle and looked +back,--and again waved her hand. The sun came out fully then, and +sweeping aside the grey mists, ehed all its brightness on the +graceful figure in the saddle, striking a reflex of rose from the +soft violet riding-dress, and sparkling against the rippling twists +of gold-brown, hair,--then,--as she disappeared between two rows of +leafless trees,--withdrew itself again frowningly and shone no more +that day. + +Walden re-entered his house, hardly able to sustain the sudden joy +that filled him. He felt himself trembling nervously, and was angry +at his own weakness. + +"I am more foolish than any love-sick boy!" he said to himself with +inward remonstrance--"And God knows I am old enough to know better! +But I cannot help being glad she has come home!--I cannot help it! +For with her presence it seems to me that 'the winter is past, the +rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, and the time +of the singing of birds is come'! She is so full of life and +brightness!-we shall know nothing of dull days or gloomy skies in +St. Rest if she stays with us,--though perhaps for me it might be +wiser and safer to choose the dull days and gloomy skies rather than +tempt my soul with the magical light of an embodied spring in +winter-time! But I shall be careful,--careful of myself and of her,- +-I shall guard her name in every way, on my side--and if--if I love +her, she shall never know it!" + +He resumed his former seat by the study fire, and again took up his +volume of Tennyson. And opening the book at hazard, his glance fell +on that exquisite 'Fragment' which perhaps excels in its own way all +the 'Idylls of the King'-- + + "As she fled fast thro' sun and shade, + The happy winds upon her play'd, + Blowing the ringlet from the braid: + She look'd so lovely as she sway'd + The rein with dainty finger-tips. + A man had given all other bliss, + And all his worldly worth for this, + To waste his whole heart in one kiss + Upon her perfect lips." + +"Quite true!" he said, as he read the lines half aloud, a tender +smile lighting up the gravity of his deep thoughtful eyes--"True to +the life, so far as the Guinevere of to-day is concerned! But let +the simile stop there, John, my boy! Don't carry it any further! +Don't deceive yourself as to your own demerits! You are nothing but +an old-fashioned country parson--a regular humdrum, middle-aged +fogey!--that's what you are!--so, even though you HAVE fallen in +love (which at your time of life is a folly you ought to be ashamed +of), don't for Heaven's sake imagine yourself a Lancelot, John!--it +won't do!" + + + + +XXIX + + +Over the moist ground, and under the bare branches that dripped slow +tears of past rain, the brilliant hunting train swept onward, +Maryllia riding in the midst, till they came out on a bare stretch +of moorland covered with sparse patches of gorse and fir. Here they +all paused, listening to the cry of the huntsman in the bottoms, and +watching the hounds as they drew up wind. + +The eyes of every man present wandered now and again to Maryllia in +admiration,--none of them had ever seen her look so lovely, so +bright, so entirely bewitching. She was always at her best in the +saddle. When she had paid her first visit to America with her uncle +and aunt as a girl of sixteen, she had been sent for the benefit of +her health to stay with some people who owned a huge Californian +'ranch,' and there she learned to ride on horses that were scarcely +broken in, and to gallop across miles and miles of prairie, +bareheaded to the burning sun, and had, in such pastime, felt the +glorious sense of that savage and splendid freedom which is the true +heritage of every child of nature,--a heritage too often lost in the +tangled ways of over-civilisation, and seldom or never regained. The +dauntless spirit of joyous liberty was in her blood,--she loved the +fresh air and vigorous exercise, and was a graceful, daring rider, +never knowing what it was to feel a single pulse of fear. Just now +she was radiantly happy. She was glad to be at home again,--and +still more glad that her plans for eluding the pursuit of Lord +Roxmouth had completely succeeded. He had been left absolutely in +the dark as to her whereabouts. His letters to her had been returned +unanswered, through her solicitors, who declined to make any +statement with regard to her movements, and, growing weary at last +of fruitless enquiry, he bad left England to winter in Egypt with a +party of wealthy friends, her aunt, Mrs. Fred Vancourt, being among +the number. She owed this pleasing news to Louis Gigue, who had +assisted her in her flight from the persecution of her detested +wooer. Gigue had, through his influence, managed to introduce her +under an assumed name, as a friend of his own to certain poor nuns +In a Brittany convent, who were only too willing to receive her as a +paying guest for a couple of months, and to ask no questions +concerning her. There she had stayed with exemplary patience and +resignation,--lonely indeed, yet satisfied to have made good her +escape for the time being, and, as she imagined, to have saved John +Walden from any possibility of annoyance chancing to him through +her, or by her means. She would not consent to have even Cicely with +her, lest any accidental clue to her hiding-place might be found and +followed. + +As soon, however, as she heard that Roxmouth had actually left +England, she made haste to return at once to the home she had now +learned to love with a deep and clinging affection, and she had +timed her reappearance purposely for the first meet of the hunting +season. She would show herself, so she resolved, as a free and +independent woman to all the county,--and if people had gossiped +about her, or were prone to gossip, they would soon find out the +error of their ways. Hence the 'creation' of the becoming violet +velvet riding-dress, copied from the picture of her ancestress in +Abbot's Manor gallery. She had determined to make an 'effective' +entrance on the field,--to look as pretty and picturesque as she +possibly could, and to show that she was herself and nobody else, +bound to no authority save her own. + +In this purely feminine ambition she certainly accomplished her end. +She was the centre of attraction,--all the members of the Riversford +Hunt dispersed round and about her in Hear or distant groups, +discussed her in low tones, even while watching the working of the +pack, and scanning every yard of open ground for the first sign of a +fox. Gradually the crowd of horses and riders increased,--men from +the county-town itself, farmers from the more outlying parts of the +neighbourhood, and some of the Badsworth Hall tenantry, having +arrived too late at Ittlethwaite Park for the actual meet, now came +hurriedly galloping up, and among these last was Oliver Leach. It +was the first time Maryllia had seen her dismissed agent since her +rescue of the Five Sister beeches, and she had thought of him so +little that she would not have recognised him now had not his horse, +a vicious-looking restive creature, started plunging close to her +own hunter 'Cleopatra,' and caused that spirited animal to rear +almost upright on her haunches. In the act of reining the mare out +of his way she looked at him, while he, in his turn stared full at +her in evident astonishment. As he appeared gradually to recognise +her identity, his face, always livid, grew more deeply sallow of +hue, and an ugly grin made a gargoyle of his mouth and eyes. She, as +soon as she recollected him, remembered at the same time the curse +he had flung at her--'a May curse,' she thought to herself with a +superstitious little shudder--'and a May curse always begins to work +in November, so the gossips say!' + +Moved by an instinctive distrust and dislike of the man, she turned +her back upon, him, and patting Cleopatra's neck, cantered quickly +ahead to join the rest of the field which was now moving towards +another cover, while the hounds ran through some low thickets of +brushwood and tangled bracken. + +She was in a curious frame of mind, and found her own emotions +difficult to analyse. The momentary glimpse she had just had of John +Walden had filled her with a strangely tender compassion. Why did he +look so worn and worried? Had he missed her? Had her two months and +more of absence seemed as long to him as they had to her? She +wondered! Anon, she asked herself why she wondered! What did it +matter to her what he thought, or how he passed his days? Then a +sudden rush of colour warmed her cheeks, and a light came into her +eyes. It DID matter!--there was no getting away from it,--it did +matter very much what he thought, and it had become of paramount +importance to her to know how he passed his days! + +Deep in her heart a secret sweet consciousness lay nestled,--a +consciousness, subtly feminine, which told her that she was held in +precious estimation by at least one man,--and that she had advanced +towards her most cherished desire of love so far as to have become +'dear to someone else.' And that 'someone else'--who was he? Oh, +well!--nobody in particular!--only a country clergyman,--a poor +creature, so the world might say, to build romances upon! Yet she +was building them fast. One after the other they shaped themselves +like cloud-castles in the airy firmament of her dreams, and she +permitted herself to dwell on the possible joys they suggested. Very +simple joys too!--such as the completion of the rose-window in the +church of St. Rest,--he would be pleased if that were done--yes!-- +she was sure he would be pleased!--and she had managed, during her +sojourn in Brittany, to secure some of the loveliest old stained +glass, dating from the twelfth century, which she meant to give him +to-morrow when he came to see her. To-morrow! What a long time it +seemed till then! And suppose he did not come? Well, then she would +go and see him herself, and would tell him just why she had gone +away from home, and why she had not written, to him or to anybody +else in the neighbourhood,--and then--and then--- + +Here she started at the sound of a sudden 'tally-ho!'--the hounds +had rallied--a fox was 'drawn,'--the whole field was astir, and with +a musical blast of the horn, the hunt swept on in a flash of scarlet +and white, black, brown and grey, across the moor. Maryllia gave +herself up to the excitement of the hour, and galloped along, her +magnificent mare 'Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt' scenting sport in the +wind and enjoying the wild freedom allowed her by a loose rein and +the light weight she bore. On, on!--with the wet chill perfume of +fallen leaves rising from the earth on which the eager hoofs of the +horses trampled,--on, always on, in the track of stealthy Reynard, +over dips and hollows in the ground and shallow pools fringed with +gaunt sedges and twisted brambles,--on, still on, crossing and re- +crossing lines of scent where the hounds appeared for the moment at +a loss, till they dashed off again towards the farther woods. +Putting her mare to a fence and clearing it easily, Maryllia crossed +a meadow, which she knew to be the shortest way to the spot where +she could just see the pack racing silently ahead,--and, coming out +on one of the high-roads between St. Rest and Riversford, she drew +rein for a moment. Several of the hunters had chosen the same short- +cut, and came out of the meadow with her, calling a cheery word or +two as they passed her and pressed on in the ardour of the chase. + +Quickly resuming her gallop, and yielding to the exhilaration of the +air and the pleasure of movement, she urged her mare to a pace which +would have been deemed reckless by all save the most skilled and +daring riders, unaware of the unpleasant fact that she was being +closely followed by Oliver Leach. He rode about twenty paces behind +her, every now and then gaining on her, and anon pulling back his +horse in an apparent desire not to outstrip her. The rest of the +hunting party were well ahead, and they had the road to themselves, +with the exception of a fat man on a bicycle, who was careering +along in front of them, looking something like a ton on wheels. +Maryllia soon flew past this moving rotundity, and even if she had +had time to look at it, she would not have known that it was the +Reverend Putwood Leveson, as she had never seen that gentleman. +Catching a glimpse of the hounds, now racing round the edge of a +sloping hill, she galloped faster and faster,--while Oliver Leach, +with an odd set expression in his face and eyes, and his hat well +pulled down on his brows, followed her at an almost equally flying +speed. A ploughed field lay between them, and the smooth dark slope +of land edged with broken furze, where the pack could be plainly +seen racing for blood. A moderately low, straggling hedge +intervened. Such an obstacle was a mere trifle for 'Cleopatra, Queen +of Egypt' to clear, and Maryllia put her to it with her usual ease +and buoyancy. But now up came Oliver Leach on his ill-formed but +powerful beast;--and just as the spirited mare, with her lightly +poised rider on her back, leaped the hedge, he set his own animal at +precisely the same place in deliberate defiance of all hunting +rules, and springing at her like a treacherous enemy from behind, +closed on her haunches, and pounded straight over her! Maryllia +reeled in her saddle,--for one half second, her blue eyes wide with +terror, turned themselves full upon her pursuer--she raised her hand +appealingly--warningly--in vain! With a crash of breaking brushwood +the mare went down under the plunging hoofs that came thudding so +heavily upon her,--there was a quick shriek--a blur of violet and +gold hurled to the ground--and then,--then Leach galloped on--alone! +He dared not look back! His nerves throbbed--his heart beat high,-- +and his evil soul rejoiced in its wickedness as only the soul of a +devil can. + +"Verdict--accidental death!" he muttered, with a fierce laugh--"No +doubt it will be thought singular that the daughter should have met +the same end as her father! And nothing more will be said. But +suppose she is not killed, since every cat has nine lives? No +matter, she will be disfigured for life! That will suit me just as +well!" + +He laughed again, and passed on in the wake of the hunt which had +now swept far ahead round the bend of the hill. + +Meanwhile, 'Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt,' rendered stunned and dizzy +by her fall, began to recover her equine senses. Sniffing the air +and opening her wild bright eyes, she soon perceived her loved +mistress lying flung about three yards distant from where she +herself had rolled over and over on the thick wet clod of the field. +With a supreme effort the gallant beast attempted to rise,--and +presently, with much plunging and kicking, in which struggles +however, she with an almost human intelligence pushed herself +farther away from that prone figure on the ground, so that she might +not injure it, she managed to stand upright, quivering in every +strained, sore limb. Lifting her head, she whinnied with a +melancholy long-drawn plaintiveness, and then with a slow, stiff +hobble, moved cautiously closer to Maryllia's fallen body. There she +paused and whinnied again, while the grey skies lowered and rain +began to ooze from the spreading leaden weight of cloud. + +And now assistance seemed near, for the Reverend Putwood Leveson, +having had to lead his bicycle up a hill, and being overcome with a +melting tallow of perspiration in the effort, hove in sight like an +unwieldy porpoise bobbing up on dry land. Approaching the broken gap +in the hedge, he quickly spied the mare, and realised the whole +situation. Now was the chance for a minister of Christ to show his +brave and gentle ministry! He had a flask of brandy in his pocket,-- +he never went anywhere without it. He felt it, where it was +concealed, comfortably pressed against his heart,--then he peered +blandly over the hedge at the helpless human creature lying there +unconscious. He knew who it was,--who it must be,--for, as he had +cycled through the village after the hunt had started, he had heard +everyone talking of Miss Vancourt's unexpected return, and how she +had been the 'queen' of the meet that morning. Besides, she had +passed him on the road, riding at full gallop. He wiped his forehead +now and smiled pleasantly. + +"Queens are very soon discrowned!"--he said to himself--"And, +fortunately, vacant thrones are soon filled! Now if that sneak +Walden were here---" + +He paused considering. The remembrance of the indignity he had +suffered at the hands of Julian Adderley was ever fresh with him,-- +an indignity brought about all through the very woman who was now +perhaps dying before his eyes, if she was not already dead. +Suddenly, pushing his way through the broken hedge, he approached +'Cleopatra' cautiously. The malignant idea entered his brain that if +he could make the animal start and plunge, her hoofs would crush the +body of her mistress more surely and completely. Detestable as the +impulse was, it came quite naturally to him. He had helped to kill +butterflies often--why not a woman? The murderous instinct was the +same in both cases. He tried to snatch the mare's bridle-rein, but +she jerked her head away from him, and stood like a rock. He could +not move her an inch. Only her great soft eyes kindled with a +warning fire as he hovered about her,--and a decided movement of one +of her hind hoofs suggested that possibly he might have the worst of +any attempt to play pranks with her. He paused a moment, +considering. + +"Oliver Leach came this way,"--he mused--"He passed me almost +immediately after she did. Is this his work, I wonder?" Here he drew +out his always greasy pocket-handkerchief and wiped his face with as +much tender care as though it were a handsome one--"I shouldn't be +surprised,"--he continued, in a mild sotto-voce--"I shouldn't be at +all surprised if he had arranged this little business! Clever--very! +Fatal accidents in the hunting-field are quite common. He knows +that. So do I. But I shall find out,--yes!--I shall find out---" + +Here he almost jumped with an access of 'nerves'--for 'Cleopatra, +Queen of Egypt' suddenly stretched out her long arched neck and +whinnied with piteous, beseeching loudness. A pause of intense +stillness followed the mare's weird cry,--a stillness broken only by +the slow pattering of rain. Then from the near distance came the +baying of hounds and a far echo of the hunting horn. + +Seized by panic, the Reverend 'Putty' scrambled quickly out of the +ploughed field, through the broken hedge and on to the high-road +again, where taking himself to his bicycle again, he scurried away +like a rat from falling timber. He had been on his way to Riversford +when he had stopped to look at the little fallen heap of violet and +gold,--guarded so faithfully by a four-footed beast twenty times +more 'Christian' in natural feeling than his 'ordained' clerical +self,--and he now resumed that journey. And though, as he neared the +town, he met many persons of the neighbourhood on foot, in carts, +and light-wheeled traps, he never once paused to give news of the +accident, or so much as thought of sending means of assistance. + +"I am not supposed to have seen anything,"--he said, with a fat +smile--"and I am not supposed to know! I shall certainly not be +asked to assist at the funeral service. Walden will attend to that!" + +He cycled on rapidly, and arriving at Riversford went to tea with +the brewer's wife, Mrs. Mordaunt Appleby, at Appleby Hall, and was +quite fatherly and benevolent to her son, a lumpy child of ten, the +future heir to all the malt, hops, barrels, vats, and poisonous +chemicals comprising the Appleby estates in this world. + +The afternoon closed in coldly and mournfully. A steady weeping +drizzle of rain set in. Some of the hunters returned through St. +Rest by twos and threes, looking in a woeful condition, bespattered +up to their saddles with mud, and feeling, no doubt, more or less +out of temper, as notwithstanding a troublesome and fatiguing run, +the fox had escaped them after all. It was about five o'clock, when +Walden, having passed a quiet day among his books, and having felt +the sense of a greater peace and happiness at his heart than he had +been conscious of since the May-day morning of the year, pushed +aside his papers, rose from his chair, and, looking out at the +dreary weather, wondered if the 'Guinevere' of the hunt had got +safely home from her gallop across country. + +"She will be wet through,"--he thought,--the tender smile that made +his face so lovable playing softly round his lips--"But she will not +mind that! She will laugh, and brush out her pretty hair all ruffled +and wet with the rain,--her cheeks will be glowing with colour, and +her lips will be as red as the cherries when they first begin to +ripen,--her eyes will be bright with health and vitality,--and life- +-young life--life full of joy and hope and brightness will radiate +from her as the light radiates from the sun. And I shall bask in the +luminance of her smile--I, cold and grey, like a burnt-out ember of +perished possibilities,--I shall warm my chill soul at the sweet +fire of her presence--I shall see her to-morrow!" + +He went to the hearth and stirred the smouldering logs into a bright +blaze. He was just about to ring for fresh fuel, when there came a +sudden, alarmed knocking at the street door. Somewhat startled, he +listened, his hand on the bell. He heard the light step of Hester +the housemaid tripping along the passage quickly to answer the +imperative summons,--there was a confused murmur of voices--and then +a sudden cry of horror,--and a loud burst of sobbing. + +"Whist--whist!--be quiet, be quiet!" said a hoarse trembling voice +which it was difficult to recognise as Bainton's; "For the Lord's +sake, don't make that noise, gel! Think o' Passon!--do'ee think o' +Passon! We must break it to 'im gently like---" But the hysterical +sobbing broke out again and drowned all utterance. + +And still Walden stood, listening. A curious rigidity affected his +nerves. Something had happened--but what? His dry lips refused to +frame the question. All at once, he roused himself. With a couple of +strides across his little study he threw open the door and went out +into the passage. There stood Hester with her apron thrown over her +head, weeping convulsively--while Bainton, leaning against the ivied +porch entrance to ths house, was trembling like a woman in an ague +fit. + +"What's the matter?" said Walden, in a voice of almost peremptory +loudness,--a voice that sounded harsh and wild on his own ears-- +"What has happened?" + +"Oh-oh--Oh-oh!" wailed Hester--"Oh, Mr. Walden, oh, sir, I can't +tell you! I can't indeed!--it's about Miss Vancourt--oh--poor dear +little lady!--oh-oh! I can't--I can't say it! I can't!" + +"Don't ye try, my gel!"--said Bainton, gently--"You ain't fit +for't,--don't ye try! Which I might a'known a woman's 'art couldn't +abear it,--nor a man's neither!" Here he turned his pale face upon +his master, and the slow tears began to trickle down his furrowed +cheeks. + +"Passon Walden,"--he began, in shaking accents--"Passon Walden, sir, +I'm fair beside myself 'ow to tell ye--but you're a brave man wot +knows the ways o' God an' 'ow mortal 'ard they seems to us all +sometimes, poor an' rich alike, an' 'ow it do 'appen that the +purttiest flowers is the quickest gone, an' the brightest wimin too, +for that matter,--an'--an'---" Here his rough halting voice broke +into a hoarse sob--"Oh, Passon, it's a blow!--it's a mortal 'ard +blow!--she was a dear, sweet lady an' a good one, say what they +will, an' 'ow they will--an' she's gone, Passon!--we won't never see +her no more!--she's gone!" + +A swirling blackness came over Walden's eyes for a moment. He tried +to realise what was being said, but could not grasp its meaning. +Making a strong effort to control his nerves he spoke, slowly and +with difficulty. + +"Gone? I don't understand you,--I---" + +Here, as he stood at the open doorway, he saw in the gathering dusk +of evening a small crowd of villagers moving slowly along the road. +Some burden was being carried tenderly between them,--it was like a +walking funeral. Someone was dead then? He puzzled himself as to who +it could be? He was the parson of the parish,--he had received no +intimation! And the hour was late,--they must put it off till to- +morrow! Yes--till to-morrow, when he would see Maryllia! Startled by +the sudden ghastly pallor of his master's face, Bainton ventured to +lay a hand on his arm. + +"She was found two hours ago,"--he said, in hushed tones--"Up on +Farmer Thorpe's ploughed field--all crushed on the clods, an' no one +nigh 'er 'cept the mare. An' the mare was as sensible as a 'uman, +for she was a-whinnyin' loud like cryin' for 'elp--an' Dr. Forsyth +'e came by in his gig, drivin' 'ome from Riversford an' he 'ad his +man with 'im, so 'tween them both, they got some 'elp an' brought +'er 'ome--but I'm feared it's too late!--I'm awesome feared it's too +late!" + +Walden looked straight down the road, watching the oncoming of the +little crowd. + +"I think I begin to know what you mean," he said, slowly. "There has +been an accident to Miss Vancourt. She has been thrown--but she is +not dead! Not dead. Of course not! She could not be!" + +As he spoke, he pushed aside Bainton's appealing hand gently yet +firmly and walked out bareheaded like a man in a dream to meet the +little ghost-like procession that was now approaching him nearly. He +felt himself trembling violently,--had he been called upon to meet +his own instant destruction at that moment, he would have been far +less unnerved. Low on the wet autumnal wind came the sound of men's +murmuring voices, of women's suppressed sobbing;--in the semi- +obscurity of fading light and deepening shadow he could discern and +recognise the figure of his friend the local doctor, 'Jimmy' +Forsyth, who was walking close beside a hastily improvised stretcher +composed of the boughs of trees and covered with men's coats and +driving-rugs,--and he could see the shadowy shape of 'Cleopatra, +Queen of Egypt,' being led slowly on in the rear, her proud head +drooping dejectedly, her easy stride changed to a melancholy limping +movement,--her saddle empty. And, as he looked, some nerve seemed to +tighten across his brows,--a burning ache and strain, as if a strong +cord stretched to a tension of acutest agony tortured his brain,-- +and for a moment he lost all other consciousness but the awful sense +of death,--death in the air,--death in the cold rain--death in the +falling leaves--death in the deepening gloom of the night,--and +death, palpable, fierce and cruel in the solemn gliding approach of +that funeral group,--that hearse-like burden of the perished +brightness, the joyous innocence, the sunny smile, the radiant hair, +the sweet frank eyes--the all of beauty that was once Maryllia! +Then, unaware of his own actions, he went forward giddily, blindly +and unreasoningly---till, coming face to face with the little moving +group of awed and weeping people, all of whom halted abruptly at +sight of him, he suddenly stretched forth his hands as though they +held a book at arm's length, and his voice, tremulous, yet resonant, +struck through the hush of sudden silence. + +"I am the Resurrection and the Life, saith the Lord: he that +believeth on Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and +whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die!" + +A tragic pause ensued. Every face was turned upon him in tearful +wonder. Dr. Forsyth came quickly up to him. + +"Walden!" he said, in a low tone--"What is this? What are you +saying? You are not yourself! Come home!" + +But John stood rigidly inert. His tall slight figure, fully erect, +looked almost spectral in the mists of the gathering night. He went +on reciting solemnly,-- + +"I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the +latter day upon the earth. And though worms destroy this body, yet +in my flesh shall I see God: whom I shall see for myself, and mine +eyes shall behold and not another!" + +Here there was a general movement of consternation in the little +crowd. Parson Walden was beginning to read the burial service! Then +men whispered to one another,--and some of the women burst out +crying bitterly. Dr. Forsyth became alarmed. + +"John!" he said, imperatively--"Rouse yourself, man! You are ill--I +see you are ill,--but I cannot attend to you now! Try not to delay +me, for God's sake! Miss Vancourt is seriously injured--but I MAY +save her life. She is not dead." + +Something snapped like a broken harp-string behind Walden's +temples,--the horrible tension was relieved. + +"Not dead--not dead?" he muttered--"Not dead? Forsyth, are you +sure?" + +"Sure!" + +His face changed and softened,--a sudden sweet moisture freshened +his eyes. + +"Thank God!" he murmured. + +Then he looked about him like a man suddenly wakened from sleep. He +was still unable quite to realise his surroundings or what he had +done. + +"Forgive me!" he said, pathetically--"I am afraid I have been a +trouble to you! I've been studying too much this afternoon,--and-- +and--I don't know why I came out here just now--I'll--I'll go in. +Will you let me know how--how---" + +Forsyth nodded comprehensively. + +"You shall know everything--best or worst--to-morrow,"--he said-- +"But now go in and lie down, Walden! You want rest!" + +At an imperative sign from him, Walden obediently turned away, not +daring to look at the men that now passed him, carrying Maryllia's +senseless form back to Abbot's Manor, the beloved home from which +she had ridden forth so gaily that morning. He re-entered the still +open doorway of his rectory, wholly unconscious that his +parishioners, deeply affected by his strange and sudden mind- +bewilderment, were now all as anxious about him as they were about +Maryllia,--he was too dazed to see that the faithful Bainton still +waited for him on his own threshold, or that his servant Hester was +still crying as though her heart would break. He passed all and +everyone--and went straight upstairs to his own bedroom, where he +closed and locked the door. There, smiling down upon him was the +portrait of his dead sister,--and there too, just above his bed was +an engraving of the tragically sweet Head crowned with thorns, of +Guido's 'Ecce Homo.' On this his gaze rested abstractedly. His +temples ached and throbbed, and there was a dull cold heaviness at +his heart. Keeping his eyes still on the pictured face of Christ, he +dropped on his knees, clasped his hands, and tried to pray, but +could not. How should he appeal to a God who was cruel enough to +kill a bright creature like Maryllia in the very zenith and fair +flowering-time of her womanhood!--an innocent happy soul that had no +thought or wish to do anyone any harm! And then he remembered his +own reproaches to his friend Bishop Brent whom he had accused of +selfishness for allowing his life to be swayed by the memory of an +inconsolable sorrow and loss. 'You draw a mourning veil of your own +across the very face of God!' So he had said,--and was he not ready +now to do the same? Suddenly, like the teasing refrain of a haunting +melody, there came back to his mind the verse he had read that +morning: + + "As she fled fast thro' sun and shade, + The happy winds upon her play'd, + Blowing the ringlet from the braid: + She look'd so lovely as she sway'd + The rein with dainty finger-tips. + A man had given all other bliss, + And all his worldly wealth for this, + To waste his whole heart in one kiss + Upon her perfect lips." + +Over and over these rhymes went, jingling their sweet concord in his +brain,--till all at once the strong pressure upon his soul relaxed,- +-a great sigh escaped his lips--and with the sigh came the sudden +breaking of the wave of grief. A rush of scalding tears blinded his +eyes--and with a hard sob of agony his head fell forward on his +clasped hands. + +"Spare me her life, O God!" he passionately prayed--"Oh God, oh God! +Save Guinevere!" + + + + +XXX + + +And now a cloud of heavy sorrow and foreboding hung over the little +village. All its inhabitants were oppressed by a dreary sense of +helpless wretchedness and personal loss. Maryllia was not dead,--but +it was to be feared that she was dying,--slowly, and by inches as it +were, yet nevertheless surely. A great specialist had been summoned +from London by Dr. Forsyth, and after long and earnest consultation, +his verdict upon her case had been well-nigh hopeless. Thereupon +Cicely Bourne was immediately sent for, and arrived from Paris in +all haste, only to fall into a state of utter despair. For there +seemed no possible chance of saving the dear and valuable life of +her beloved friend and protectress to whom she owed all her +happiness, all her future prospects. And thus confronted with a +tragedy more dire and personal than any she had ever pictured in her +wildest imaginative efforts, she sat by Maryllia's bedside, hour +after hour, day after day, night after night, stunned by grief, +watching, weeping, and waiting for the least glimmer of returning +consciousness in that unconscious form which lay so terribly inert, +like a figure of life-in-death before her, till she became the mere +gaunt, little ghost of herself, her large melancholy dark eyes alone +expressing the burning vital anguish of her soul. A telegram +conveying the sad news of her niece's accident had been sent to Mrs. +Fred Vancourt at the Gezireh Palace Hotel, Cairo, to which, with the +happy vagueness which so often characterizes the ultra-fashionable +woman, Mrs. Fred had replied direct to Maryllia herself thus: + +"So glad to know where you really are at last, but sorry you have +met with a spill. Hope you have a good doctor and nurses. Will write +on return from expedition to Luxor. Lord Roxmouth much regrets to +hear of accident and thinks it lucky you are back in your own home." + +Of course this 'sympathetic' message was not read by its intended +recipient at the time of its arrival. Maryllia lay blind, deaf and +senseless to all that was going on around her, and for many days +gave no sign of life whatever save a faint uneasy breathing and an +occasional moan. Cicely was left alone to face all difficulties, to +receive and answer all messages and to take upon herself for the +time being the ostensible duties of the mistress of Abbot's Manor. +She bent her energies to the task, though she felt that her heart +must break in the effort,--and with tears blinding her eyes, she +told poor Mrs. Spruce, who was quite stupefied by the sudden crash +of misfortune that had fallen upon the household, that she meant to +try and do her best to keep everything going on just as Maryllia +would wish it kept, "till--till--she gets better,"--she faltered +sobbingly--"and you will help me, dear Mrs. Spruce, won't you?" + +Whereupon Mrs. Spruce took the poor child into her motherly arms, +and they both cried and kissed each other, moved by the same common +woe. + +The Manor was soon besieged with callers. Everyone in the county +flocked thither to leave cards, and express their sympathy for the +unfortunate mischance that had overtaken the bright creature who had +been the cynosure of all eyes for her beauty and grace on the +morning of the first fox-hunt of the year. All the ill-natured +gossip, all the slanderous tittle-tattle which had been started by +Lord Roxmouth and fostered by Miss Tabitha Pippitt, ebbed and died +away in the great wave of honest regret and kindly pity that +pervaded the whole neighbourhood. Even Sir Morton Pippitt, smitten +by compunction for certain selfish motives which had inspired him to +serve Lord Roxmouth as a willing tool, was an indefatigable, almost +daily enquirer as to Maryllia's condition, for though pompous, +blusterous, and to a very great extent something of a snob, his +nature was not altogether lacking in the milk of human kindness like +that of his daughter Tabitha. She, still smarting under the jealous +conviction that John Walden was secretly enamoured of the Lady of +the Manor, had heard the strange story of his having so far +forgotten his usual self as to wander out bareheaded in the evening +air and recite the commencement of the burial service like a man +distraught when Maryllia's crushed body had been brought home, and +she thought of it often with an inward rage she could scarcely +conceal. Almost,--such was her acrimony and vindictiveness--she +wished Maryllia would die. + +"Serve her right!" she said to herself, setting her thin lips +spitefully together--"Serve her right!" + +There are a great many eminently respectable ladies of Miss +Tabitha's temperament who always say 'Serve her right,' when a +pretty and charming woman, superior to themselves, meets with some +misfortune. They regard it as a just dispensation of Providence. + +John Walden meanwhile had braced himself to face the worst that +could happen. Or rather, as he chose to put it, strength, not his +own, had been given him to stand up, albeit feebly, under the shock +of unexpected disaster. Pale, composed, punctilious in the +performance of all his duties, and patiently attentive to the needs +of his parishioners, he went about among them as usual in his own +quiet, sympathetic way just as if his heart were not crying out in +fierce rebellion against inexorable destiny,--and as if he were not +wildly clamouring to be near her whom, now that she was being taken +from him, he knew that he loved with an ardour far deeper and +stronger than with the same passion common to men in the first flush +of their early manhood. And though he sent Bainton every day up to +the Manor to make enquiries about her, he never went near the place +himself. He could not. Brave as he tried to be, he could not meet +Cicely Bourne. He knew that one look into the little singer's +piteous dark eyes would have broken him down completely. + +Every night Dr. 'Jimmy' Forsyth came to the rectory with the latest +details respecting Maryllia's condition,--though for weeks there was +no change to report. She was suffering from violent concussion of +the brain, and was otherwise seriously injured, but Forsyth would +not as yet state how serious the injuries were. For he guessed +Walden's secret, and was deeply touched by the quiet patience and +restrained sorrow of the apparently calm, self-contained man who, +notwithstanding his own inward acute agony, never forgot a single +detail having to do with the poor or sick of the parish,--who +soothed little Ipsie Frost's bewildered grief concerning her 'poor +bootiful white lady-love,'--and who sat with old Josey Letherbarrow +by his cottage fire, trying as best he could to explain, ay, even to +excuse the mysterious ways of divine Providence as apparently shown +in the visitation of cruel affliction on the head of a sweet and +innocent woman. Josey was a little dazed about it all and could not +be brought to realise that 'th' owld Squire's gel' might never rise +from her bed again. + +"G'arn with ye!" he said, indignantly, to the melancholy village +gossips who came in to see him and shake their heads generally over +life and its brief vanities--"Th' Almighty Lord ain't a pulin', +spiteful, hoppitty kicketty devil wot ain't sure of 'is own mind! He +don't make a pretty thing just to break it agin all for nowt! Didn't +ye all come clickettin' to me about the Five Sister beeches, an' +ain't they still stannin'? An' Miss Maryllia 'ull stan' too just as +fast an' firm as the trees,--you take my wurrd for't! She ain't +goin' to die! Why look at me--just on ninety, an' I ain't dead yet!" + +But a qualm of fear and foreboding came over him whenever 'Passon' +visited him. John's sad face told him more than words could express. + +"Ain't she no better, Passon?" he would ask, timidly and +tremblingly. + +And John, laying his own hand on the old brown wrinkled one, would +reply gently, + +"No better, Josey! But we must hope,--we must hope always, and +believe that God will be merciful." + +"An' if He ain't merciful, what'll we do?" persisted Josey once, +with tears in his poor dim eyes. + +"We must submit!" answered John, almost sternly--"We must believe +that He knows what is wise and good for her--and for us all! And we +must live out our lives patiently without her, Josey!--patiently, +till the blessed end--till that peace cometh which passeth all +understanding!" + +And Josey, looking at him, was awed by the pale spiritual serenity +of his features and the tragic human grief of his eyes. + +One person in the neighbourhood proved himself a mainstay of help +and consolation during this time of general anxiety and suspense, +and this was Julian Adderley. He was always at hand and willing to +be of service. He threw his 'dreams' of poesy to the winds and +became poet in earnest,--poet in sympathy with others,--poet in +kindly thought,--poet in constant delicate ways of solace to the man +he had learned to respect above all others, and whose unspoken love +and despair he recognised with more passionate appreciation than any +grandly written tragedy. He had gone at once to the Manor on +Cicely's arrival there, and had laid himself, metaphorically so to +speak, at her feet. When she had first seen him, all oppressed by +the weight of her sorrow as she was, she had burst out crying, +whereat he had, without the slightest hesitation or embarrassment, +taken her in his arms and kissed her. Neither he nor she seemed the +least surprised at the spontaneity of their mutual caress,--it came +quite naturally. "It was so new--so fresh!" said Julian afterwards. +And from that eventful moment, he had installed himself more or less +at the Manor, under Cicely's orders. He wrote letters for her, +answered telegrams, drew up a formal list of 'Callers' and +'Enquiries,' kept accounts, went errands for the two trained nurses +who were in day and night attendance on the unconscious invalid +upstairs, and made himself generally useful and reliable. But his +'fantastic' notions were the same as ever. He would not, as he put +it, 'partake of food' at the Manor while its mistress was lying +ill,--nor would he allow any servant in the household to wait upon +him. He merely came and went, quietly to and fro, giving his best +services to all, and never failing to visit Walden every day, and +tell him all the latest news. He even managed to make friends with +the great dog Plato, who, ever since Maryllia's accident, had taken +up regular hours of vigil outside her bedroom door, regardless of +doctor and nurses, though he would move his leonine body gently +aside whenever they passed in or out, showing a perfectly +intelligent comprehension of their business. Plato every now and +again would indulge in a walk abroad with Julian, accompanying him +as far as the rectory, where he would enter, laying his broad head +on Walden's knee with a world of sympathy in his loving brown eyes, +while Nebbie, half-jealous, half-gratified, squatted humbly in the +shadow of his feathery tail. And John found a certain melancholy +pleasure in caressing the very dog Maryllia loved, and would sit, +thoughtfully stroking the animal's thick coat, while Adderley and +Dr. Forsyth, both of whom were now accustomed to meet in his little +study every evening, discussed the pros and cons of what was likely +to happen when Maryllia woke from her long trance of insensibility. +Would her awakening be to life or death? John listened to their +talk, himself saying nothing, all unaware that they talked merely to +cheer him and to try and put the best light they could on the face +of affairs in order to give him the utmost hope. + +The weary days rolled on in rain and gloom,--Christmas came and went +with a weight and dullness never before known in St. Rest. Every +Sunday since the accident, Walden had earnestly requested the +prayers of his congregation for Miss Vancourt, 'who was seriously +ill'--and on Christmas Day, he gave out the same request, with a +pathetic alteration in the wording, which as he uttered it, caused +many people to sob as they listened. + +"The prayers of this congregation," he said--"are desired for +Maryllia Vancourt, who has been much beloved among you, and whose +life is now in imminent peril!" + +A chill seemed to strike through the church,--an icy blast far +colder than the wintry wind,--the alabaster sarcophagus in front of +the altar seemed all at once invested with a terrible significance,- +-death, and death only was the sovereign ruler of the world! And +when the children's choir rose to give the 'Hark the herald angels +sing, Glory to the new-born King'--their voices were unsteady and +fell out of tune into tears. + +Maryllia was indeed in 'imminent peril.' She had become suddenly +restless, and her suffering had proportionately increased. At the +earliest symptom of returning consciousness, the attention of the +watchers at her bedside became redoubled;--should she speak, they +were anxious to hear the first word that escaped her lips. For as +yet, no one knew how she had come by her accident. None of the +hunters had seen her fall, and Bennett the groom, stoutly refused to +believe that the mare had either missed her jump, or thrown her +mistress. + +"She couldn't have done it,"--he declared--"And if she could, she +wouldn't! She's too sensible, and Miss Vancourt's too sure a rider. +Something's at the bottom of it all, and I'd give a good deal to +find out what it is, and WHO it is!" + +Thus said Bennett, with many dark nods of meaning, and gradually the +idea that Maryllia had been the victim of foul play, took root in +the minds of all the villagers who heard him. Everyone in the place +was on the watch for a clue,--a whisper,--a stray suggestion as to +the possible cause of the mischief. But so far nothing had been +discovered. + +On the night before the last of the year, Maryllia, who had been +tossing uneasily all the afternoon, and moaning piteously, suddenly +opened her eyes and looked about her with a frightened air of +recognition. Cicely, always at hand with the nurse in attendance, +went quickly to the bedside in a tremour of hope and fear. + +"Maryllia! Dearest, do you know me?" + +She stared vaguely, and a faint smile hovered about her lips. Then +her brows suddenly knitted into a perplexed, pained frown, and she +said quite clearly-- + +"It was Oliver Leach!" + +Cicely gave a little cry. The nurse warned her into silence by a +gesture. There was a pause. Maryllia looked from one to the other +wistfully. + +"It was not Cleo's fault," she went on, speaking slowly, but +distinctly--"Cleo never missed. Oliver Leach took the hedge just +behind us. It was wrong! He meant to kill me. I saw it in his face!" +She shuddered violently, and her eyelids closed. "He was cruel-- +cruel!" she murmured feebly--"But I was too happy!" + +She drifted again into a stupor,--and Cicely, her whole soul +awakened by these broken words into a white heat of wrath and desire +for vengeance, left the room with sufficient information to set the +whole village in an uproar. Oliver Leach! In less than four-and- +twenty hours, the news was all over the place. The spreading wave of +indignation soon rose to an overwhelming high tide, and had Leach +shown himself anywhere in or near the village he would have stood an +uncommonly good chance of being first horsewhipped, and then +'ducked' in the river by an excited crowd. Oliver Leach! The hated, +petty upstart who had ground down the Abbot's Manor tenantry to the +very last penny that could be wrested from them!--who had destroyed +old cherished land-marks, and made ugly havoc in many once fair +woodland places in order to put money in his own pocket,--even he, +so long an object of aversion among them, was the would-be murderer +of the last descendant of the Vancourts! The villagers talked of +nothing else,--quiet and God-fearing rustics as they were, they had +no patience with treachery, meanness and cowardice, and were the +last kind of people in the world to hold their peace on a matter of +wickedness or injustice, merely because Leach was in the employ of +several neighbouring land-owners, including Sir Morton Pippitt. +Murmurs and threats ran from mouth to mouth, and Walden when he +heard of it, said nothing for, or against, their clamour for +revenge. The rage and sorrow of his own soul were greater than the +wrath of combined hundreds,--and his feeling was all the more deep +and terrible because it found no expression in words. The knowledge +that such a low and vile creature as Oliver Leach had been the +cause, and possibly the intentional cause of Maryllia's grievous +suffering and injury, moved him to realise for the first time in his +life what it was to be conscious of a criminal impulse. He himself +longed to kill the wretch who had brought such destruction on a +woman's beauty and happiness!--and it was with a curious sort of +satisfaction that he found himself called upon in the ordinary +course of things to read at evening service during the first week in +January, the Twenty-eighth Psalm, wherein David beseeches God to +punish the ungodly. + + "Reward them according to their deeds, and according to the + wickedness of their own inventions! + + "Recompense them after the work of their hands: pay them + that they have deserved!" + +Such demands for the punishment of one's enemies may not be +'Christian,' but they are Scriptural, and as such, John felt himself +justified in pronouncing them with peculiar emphasis and fervour. + +Meanwhile, by slow degrees, the 'imminent peril' passed, and +Maryllia came back to her conscious self,--a self that was tortured +in every nerve by pain,--but, with the return of her senses came +also her natural sweetness and gentleness, which now took the form +of a touching patience, very sad, yet very beautiful to see. The +first little gleam of gladness in her eyea awoke for Cicely,--to +whom, as soon as she recognised her, she put up her lips to be +kissed. Her accident had not disfigured her,--the fair face had been +spared, though it was white and drawn with anguish. But she could +not move her limbs,--and when she had proved this for herself, she +lay very still, thinking quietly, with a dream-like wonder and +sorrow in her blue eyes, like the wistfulness in the eyes of a +wounded animal that knows not why it should be made to suffer. +Docile to her nurses, and grateful for every little service, she +remained for some days in a sort of waking reverie, holding Cicely's +hand often, and asking her an occasional question about the house, +the gardens and the village. And January was nearly at an end, when +she began at last to talk connectedly and to enquire closely as to +her own actual condition. + +"Am I going to die, Cicely?" she asked one morning--"You will tell +me the truth, dear, won't you? I would rather know." + +Cicely choked back her tears, and smiled bravely. + +"No, darling, no! You are better,--but--but you will be a long time +ill!" + +Maryllia looked at her searchingly, and sighed a little. + +"What have they done with Cleo?" she murmured. + +"Cleo is all right,"--said Cicely--"She was badly hurt, but Bennett +knows how you love her, and he is doing all he can for her. She will +never hunt again, I'm afraid!" + +"Nor shall I!" and Maryllia sighed again, and closed her eyes to +hide the tears that welled up in them. + +There was a dark presentiment in her mind,--a heavy foreboding to +which she would not give utterance before Cicely, lest it should +grieve her. But the next day, when Dr. Forsyth paid her his usual +visit, and said in his usual cheery way that all was 'going on +well'--she startled him by requesting to speak to him alone, without +anyone else in the room, not even the attendant nurse. + +"It is only a little question I want to ask!" she said with the +faint reflex of her old bright smile on her face--"And I'm sure +you'll answer it!" + +'Jimmy' Forsyth hesitated. He felt desperately uncomfortable. He +instinctively knew what her question would be,--a question to which +there was only one miserable answer. But her grave pleading glance +was not to be resisted,--so, making the best of a bad business, he +cleared the room, shut the door, and remained in earnest +conversation with his patient for half-an-hour. And at the end of +that time, he went out, with tears in his keen eyes, and a +suspicious cough catching his throat, as he strode away from the +Manor through the leafless avenues, and heard the branches of the +trees rattling like prison chains in an angry winter's wind. + +The worst was said,--and when it was once said, it was soon known. +Maryllia was not to die--not yet. Fate had willed it otherwise. But +she was to be a cripple for life. That was her doom. Never again +would her little feet go tripping through the rose gardens and walks +of her beloved home,--never would her dainty form be borne, a +weightless burden, by 'Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt' through the +flowering woods of spring,--from henceforth she would have to be +carried by others up and down, to and fro, a maimed and helpless +creature, with all the physical and healthful joys of living cut +away from her at one cruel blow! And yet--it was very strange!--she +herself was not stricken with any particular horror or despair at +her destiny. When, after the doctor had left, Cicely came in, +trembling and afraid,--Maryllia smiled at her with quite a sweet +placidity. + +"I know all about myself now,"--she said, quietly--"I'm sorry in a +way,--because I shall be so useless. But--I have escaped Roxmouth +for good this time!" + +"Oh my darling!" wept Cicely--"Oh my dear, beautiful Maryllia! If it +were only me instead of you!" + +Maryllia drew the dark head down on the pillow beside her. + +"Nonsense! Why should it have been you!" she said, cheerfully--"You +will be a delight to the world with your voice, Cicely,--whereas I +am nothing, and never have been anything. I shall not be missed---" + +Her voice faltered a moment, as the thought of John Walden suddenly +crossed her mind. He would perhaps--only perhaps--miss her! Anon, a +braver and purely unselfish emotion moved her soul, and she began to +be almost glad that she was, as she said to herself, 'laid aside.' + +"For now,"--she mused--"they can say nothing at all about him at MY +expense. Even Roxmouth's tongue must stop calumniating me,--for +though many people are very heartless, they do draw the line at +slandering a crippled woman! It's all for the best,--I'm sure it's +all for the best!" + +And a serene contentment took possession of her,--a marvellous peace +that brought healing in its train, for with the earliest days of +February, when the first snowdrops were beginning to make their +white way through the dark earth, she was able to be moved from her +bed, and carried down to the morning room, where, lying on her +couch, near a sparkling fire, with a bunch of early flowering +aconites opening their golden eyes in a vase beside her, she looked +almost as if she were getting well enough soon to rise and walk +again. She was bright and calm, and quickly managed to impart her +own brightness and calmness to others. She summoned all the servants +of the household to her in turn, and spoke to them so kindly, and +thanked them so sweetly for the trouble and care they had taken and +were taking on her behalf that they could scarcely hide their tears. +As for poor Mrs. Spruce, who had nervously hesitated to approach her +for fear of breaking down in her presence, she no sooner made her +appearance than Maryllia stretched out her arms like a child, with a +smile on her face. + +"Come and kiss me, Spruce!" she said, almost playfully--"and don't +cry! I'm not crying for myself, you see, and I don't want anyone +else to cry for me. You'll help to make the cripple-time pleasant, +won't you?--yes, of course you will!--and I can do the housekeeping +just the same as ever--nothing need alter that. Only instead of +running about all over the place, and getting in the way, I shall +have to keep still,--and you will always know where to find me. +That's something of an advantage, Spruce! And you'll talk to me!--oh +yes!--trust you for talking, you dear thing!--and I shall know just +as much about everybody as I want to,--there Spruce!--you WILL cry!- +-so run away just now, and come back presently when you feel better- +-and braver!" Whereat Mrs. Spruce had kissed her on the cheek at +her own request, and had caught her little hand and kissed that, and +had then hurried out of the room before her rising sobs could break +out, as they did, into rebellious blubbering. + +"Which the Lord Almighty's ways are 'ard to bear!" she wailed. "An' +that they're past findin' out, no sensible person will contradict, +for why Miss Maryllia should be laid on 'er back an' me left to +stan' upright is a mystery Gospel itself can't clear! An' if I could +onny see Passon Walden, I'd ask 'im what it all means, for if +anybody knows it he will,--but he won't see no one, an' Dr. Forsyth +says best not trouble 'im, so there I am all at sea without a life- +belt, which Spruce bein' 'arder of 'earin' than ever, don't +understand nohow nor never will. But if there's no way out of all +this trouble, the Lord Himself ain't as wise as I took 'im for, for +didn't He say to a man what 'ad crutches in the Testymen 'Arise an' +walk'?--an' why shouldn't He say 'Arise an' walk' to Miss Maryllia? +I do 'ope I'm not sinful, but I'm fair mazed when I see the Lord +'oldin' off 'is hand as 'twere, an' not doin' the right thing as 'e +should do!" + +Thus Mrs. Spruce argued, and it is to be feared that 'not doing the +right thing' was rather generally attributed to 'the Lord,' by the +good folk of St. Rest at that immediate period. Most of them were +thirsting to try a little 'right' on their own account as concerned +Oliver Leach. For the whole story was now known,--though had +Maryllia not told it quite involuntarily in a state of semi- +consciousness, she would never have betrayed the identity of her +cowardly assailant. But finding that she had, unknowingly to +herself, related the incident as it happened, there was nothing to +be done on her part, except to entreat that Leach might be allowed +to go unpunished. This, however, was a form of ultra-Christianity +which did not in any way commend itself to the villagers of St. +Rest. They were on the watch for him day and night,--scouts +traversed the high road to Riversford from east to west, from north +to south in the hope of meeting him driving along to the town as +usual on his estate agency business, but not a sign of him had been +seen since the evening of the fox-hunt, when Maryllia's body had +been found in Farmer's Thorpe's field. Then, one of Adam Frost's +eldest boys had noticed him talking to the Reverend Putwood Leveson +at the entrance of the park surrounding Badsworth Hall, but since +that time he had not shown himself, and enquiries at his cottage +failed to elicit other information than that he was 'not at home.' +The people generally suspected him of being 'in hiding,' and they +were not far wrong. + +One day, soon after her first move from her bedroom to the morning +room, and when she had grown in part accustomed to being carried up +and down, Maryllia suddenly expressed a wish to hear the village +choir. + +"I should like the children to come and sing to me,"--she said to +Cicely--"You remember the hymn they sang on that one Sunday I went +to church last summer--'The Lord is my Shepherd'? You sang it with +them, Cicely,--and it was so very sweet! Couldn't they come up here +to the Manor and sing it to me again?" + +"Of course they could if you wish it, darling!" said Cicely, +blinking away the tears that were only too ready to fall at every +gentle request proffered by her friend--"And I'm sure they will! +I'll go now and tell Miss Eden you want them." + +"Yes, do!" said Maryllia, eagerly--"And, Cicely,--wait a minute! +Have you seen Mr. Walden at all since I've been ill?" + +"No,"--replied Cicely, quietly--"He has not been very well himself, +so Dr. Forsyth says,--and he has not been about much except to +perform service on Sundays, and to visit his sick parishioners---" + +"Well, I am a sick parishioner!" said Maryllia--"Why should he leave +me out?" + +Cicely looked at her very tenderly. + +"I don't think he has left you out, darling! I fancy he has thought +of you a great deal. He has sent to enquire after you every day." + +Maryllia was silent for a minute. Then, with her own quaint little +air of authority and decision, she said-- + +"Well!--I want to see him now. In fact, I must see him,--not only as +a friend, but as a clergyman. Because you know I may not live very +long---" + +"Maryllia!" cried Cicely, passionately--"Don't say that!" + +"I won't, if you don't like it!" and Maryllia smiled up at her from +her pillows--"But I think I should like to speak to Mr. Walden. So, +as you will be passing the rectory on your way to fetch Miss Eden +and the children, will you go in and ask him if he will come up and +see me this afternoon?" + +"I will!" And Cicely ran out of the room with a sense of sudden, +inexplicable excitement which she could scarcely conceal. Quickly +putting on her hat and cloak, she almost flew down the Manor avenue, +regardless of the fact that it was raining dismally, and only +noticing that there was a scent of violets in the air, and one or +two glimmerings of yellow crocus peeping like golden spears through +the wet mould. Arriving at the rectory, she forgot that she had not +seen Walden at all since Maryllia's accident, and scarcely waiting +for the maid Hester to announce her, she hastened into his study +with startling suddenness. Springing from his chair, he confronted +her with wild imploring eyes, and a face from which ever vestige of +colour had fled. + +"What is it?" he muttered faintly--"My God spare me!--she--she is +not dead?" + +"No, no!" cried Cicely, smitten to the heart with self-reproach at +her own unthinking impetuosity--"No--no--NO! Oh what an utter idiot +I am! Oh, Mr. Walden, I didn't think--I didn't know--oh, dear Mr. +Walden, I'm so sorry I have alarmed you--do, do forgive me!---" And +she began to cry bitterly. + +He looked at her vaguely for a moment,--anon his face relaxed, and +his eyes softened. Advancing to her, he took both her hands and +pressed them. + +"Poor little Cicely!" he said, kindly--"So it is you, is it? Poor +dear little singer!--you have had so much anxiety--and I--" He broke +off and turned his head away. Then, after a pause, he resumed--"It's +all right, Cicely! You--you startled me just a little--I scarcely +knew you! You look so worn out, dear child, and no wonder! What can +I do to cheer you? Is she--is she still going on well?" + +Cicely raised her dark, tear-wet eyes to his in a kind of wistful +wonder. Then she suddenly stooped and kissed the hands that held her +own. + +"Homage to a brave man!" she said, impulsively--"You ARE brave!-- +don't contradict me, because I won't stand it!" She detached her +hands from his and tried to laugh. "Is she going on well, you ask? +Yes,--as well as she can. But--you know she will be a cripple-- +always?" + +Walden bent his head sadly. + +"I know!" + +"And it's all through those terrible 'Five Sister' beeches!" she +went on--"If Oliver Leach had been allowed to cut them down, +Maryllia would never have gone out to save them that morning, or +given the wretched man his dismissal. And he wouldn't have cursed +her, or tried to murder her!" + +Walden shuddered a little. + +"Then it is quite as much my fault as anybody else's, Cicely,"--he +said, wearily--"For I had something to do with the saving of the old +trees. At any rate, I did not exercise my authority as I might have +done to pacify the villagers, when their destruction was threatened. +I feel somehow that I my share of blame in the disaster." + +"Nonsense!" snapped out Cicely, sharply, almost angrily--"Why should +you take the sins of everyone in the parish on. your shoulders? +Broad as they are, you can draw the line somewhere surely! You might +as well blame poor old Josey Letherbarrow. He was the one who +persuaded Maryllia to save the Five Sisters,--and if you were to +tell him that all the trouble had come through him, he'd die! Poor +old dear!" She laughed a trifle hysterically. "It's nobody's fault, +I suppose. It's destiny." + +John sighed heavily. + +"Of course," went on Cicely desperately--"Maryllia may live a long +time,--or she may not. She thinks not. And because she thinks not, +she wants to see you." + +He started nervously. + +"To see ME?" + +"Yes. It's perfectly natural, isn't it? Isn't it your business to +visit the sick,--and---" He interrupted her by a quick gesture. + +"Not dying,"--he said--"I will not have the word used! She is not +dying--she will not die! She shall not!" + +His eyes flashed--he looked all at once like an inspired apostle +with the gift of life in his hand. Cicely watched him with a sudden +sense of awe. + +"If you say so,"--she faltered slowly--"perhaps she will not. Go and +see her!" + +"To-day?" + +"Yes,--this afternoon. She has asked for the school children to come +and sing to her,--I shall try to get them about four. If you come at +five, she will be able to see you--alone." + +A silence fell between them. + +"I will come!" said John, at last. + +"That's right! Good-bye till then!" + +And with a glance more expressive than words, Cicely went. + +Left to himself, John threw open his study windows, and stepping out +into his garden all wet with rain, made his way to its warmest +corner, where, notwithstanding inclement weather, the loveliest +sweet violets were thickly blossoming under his glass frames. He +began to gather them carefully, and massed them together in bunches +of deep purple and creamy white,--while Bainton, working at a little +distance off, looked up in surprise and gratification at the sight +of him. For it was many weary weeks since 'Passon' had taken any +interest in his 'forced blooms.' Nebbie, having got thoroughly +draggled and muddy by jumping wildly after his master through an +exceedingly wet tangle of ivy, sat demurely watching him, as the +little heap of delicately scented blossoms increased. + +"The violets are doing wonderfully well this year, Bainton,"--he +presently said, with his old kind smile, addressing his gardener--"I +am taking these to Miss Vancourt this afternoon." + +Bainton lifted his cap respectfully. + +"God bless her!" he said,--"An' you too, Passon!" + +And John, holding the fragrant bunch of small sweet flowers tenderly +in his hand, answered gently-- + +"Thank you, my friend! I hope He will!" + + + + +XXXI + + +The rain cleared off in the afternoon and a bright glint of sunshine +shone through the slowly dispersing clouds, enabling the children of +the village choir to put on their best frocks and hats for the +important function to which Cicely had summoned them. There was +great excitement among these little people. That they should be +specially asked to sing to Miss Vancourt was to them an unexpected +and unprecedented honour, and filled them with speechless delight +and pride. They were all very shy and nervous, however, and it was +with quite a trembling awe that they scraped their feet on the +polished oak floors of the Manor, and dragged them hesitatingly and +timidly along into the morning room where Maryllia lay peacefully +resting, and awaiting their approach. Her nurses had attired her +freshly and becomingly, and had wrapped her in soft pale rose +cashmere with delicate ribbons of the same hue tying it about her, +while her lovely hair, loosely knotted on the top of her head, was +caught together by a comb edged with pink coral which gave just the +contrasting touch of colour to the gold-brown curls. She turned a +smiling happy face on the children as they entered, and to Miss Eden +and her young assistant, Susie Prescott, she held out her hand. + +"It is so good of you to humour me in my fancy!" she said; "I loved +the little hymn you all sang on the Sunday I came to church with my +friends--don't you remember?--and I want to hear it again. I came in +late to service that day, didn't I?--yes!--it was so wrong of me! +But I should never do it again if I had the chance. Unfortunately we +are always sorry for our wrong-doings too late!" She smiled again, +and in answer to murmured words of sympathy from Miss Eden, and the +sight of tears in the eyes of Susie Prescott, made haste to say--"Oh +no!--I'm not in any pain just now. You need not think that. I am +just helpless--that's all. But I've got all my reasoning faculties +back, thank God!--and my sight has been spared. I can read and +write, and enjoy music,--so you see how many blessings are still +left to me! Will you ask the children to begin now, please? There is +not a piano in this room,--but Cicely will play the accompaniment on +the old spinet--it's quite in tune. And she will sing with you." + +In another moment they were all grouped round the ancient instrument +of Charles the Second's day, and Cicely, keeping her hands well +pressed on the jingling ivory keys, managed to evoke from them +something like a faint, far-off organ-like sound. Falteringly at +first, and then more clearly and steadily, as Cicely's full round +voice assisted them, the children sang-- + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. + He maketh me down to lie + In pleasant fields where the lilies grow, + And the river runneth by." + +Maryllia listened, watching them. The declining sunlight, pale as it +was, shed luminance upon the awkward stumpy boys, and bashfully +shrinking girls, as with round, affectionate eyes fixed upon her, +they went on tunefully-- + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; He feedeth me, + In the depth of a desert land, + And, lest I should in the darkness slip, + He holdeth me by the hand. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want, + My mind on Him is stayed, + And though through the Valley of Death I walk, + I shall not be afraid!" + +Here, something like a sob interrupted the melody. Some one in the +little choir broke down,--but Cicely covered the break with a tender +chord, and the young voices rose above it. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; O Shepherd sweet, + Leave me not here to stray, + But guide me safe to Thy heavenly fold, + And keep me there, I pray!" + +With each verse, the harmony grew sweeter and more solemn, till +Maryllia, lying back on her pillows with closed eyes through which +the tears would creep despite herself, began to feel earth very far +away and heaven very near. At the 'Amen,' she said: + +"Thank you! That was beautiful! Do you mind singing the third verse +over again?" + +They obeyed, looking at Cicely for the lead. + + "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want; + My mind on Him is stayed, + And though through the Valley of Death I walk, + I shall not be afraid!" + +There was a silence. + +"Now," breathed Cicely softly--"now the Amen!" + +Full and grave came the solemn chord and the young fresh voices with +it,-- + + "A--men!" And then Cicely went up to Maryllia and bent over +her. + +"Are you pleased, dearest?" + +She was very quiet. There were tears in her eyes, but at the +question, she smiled. + +"Very pleased! And very happy! Take the children away now and give +them tea. And thank them all for me,--say I will see them again some +day when I am stronger--when I do not feel inclined to cry quite so +easily!" + +In a few minutes all the little scuffling shuffling feet had made +their way out of the room, and Maryllia was left to herself in the +deepening twilight,--a twilight illumined brightly every now and +again by the leaping flame of a sparkling log fire. Suddenly the +door which had just been closed after the children, gently opened +again, and Cicely entering, said in rather a tremulous voice-- + +"Mr. Walden is here, Maryllia." + +Whereat she quickly disappeared. + +Maryllia turned her head round on her pillows and watched John's +tall straight figure slowly approaching. A delicate, Spring-like +odour floated to her as he came, and she saw that he carried a bunch +of violets. Then she held out her hand. + +"I am very glad to see you, Mr. Walden!" + +He tried to speak, but could not. Without a word he laid the violets +gently down on the silk coverlet of her couch. She took them up at +once and kissed them. + +"How sweet they are!" she murmured--"The first I have had given to +me this year!" + +She smiled up at him gratefully, and pointed to a chair close beside +her. + +"Will you sit near me?" she said--"And then we can talk!" + +Silently he obeyed. To see her lying there so quietly resigned and +helpless, nearly unmanned him, but he did brave battle with his own +emotions. He took her little offered hand and gently kissed it. If +to touch its soft smooth whiteness sent fire through his veins, +there was no sign of feeling in his face. He was grave and strangely +impassive. + +"I am grieved to see you like this---" he began. + +"Yes, I am sure you are!" she quickly interrupted him--"But please +do not talk about it just now! I want to forget my poor crippled +body altogether for a little while. I've had so much bother with it +lately! I want to talk to you about my soul. That's not crippled. +And you can tell me just what it is and what I am to do with it." + +He gazed at her in a kind of bewildered wonder. + +"Your soul!"--he murmured, + +"Yes." And a shadow of sad and wistful thought darkened her +features--"You see I may not live very long,--and I ought to be +properly prepared in case I die. I know you will explain everything +that is difficult to me,--because you seem to be sure of your faith. +You remember your sermon on the soul, when I came to church just +that once?" + +He bent his head. He could find no words with which to interrupt +her. + +"Well, I have often thought of it since,--and I have longed--oh, so +much!--to make a confession to you! But may I ask you one or two +questions first?" + +His dry lips moved--and he whispered, rather than spoke-- + +"You may! But are you not distressing yourself about matters which-- +which perhaps--could wait---?" + +Her blue eyes regarded him with a wonderful courage. + +"Dear Mr. Walden, I don't think I ought to wait,"--she said, very +earnestly--"Because really no one has ever done anything for me in a +religious sense,--and if I AM to die, you are the only person in the +world who can help me." + +He tried to rouse his wandering, ebbing energies. + +"I will do my best,"--he said, slowly--"My best, I mean, to answer +your questions." + +"You will?--As a clergyman, as a friend and an honest man?--yes, I +felt sure you would!" And she spoke with almost passionate +eagerness--"I will put you through your catechism, and you shall, if +you like, put me through mine! Now to begin with,--though it seems a +strange thing to ask a clergyman-do you really believe in God?" + +He started,--wakened from his trance of mind by sheer amazement. + +"Do I really believe in God? With all my soul, with all my heart, I +believe in Him!" + +"Many clergymen don't,"--said Maryllia, gravely studying his face,-- +"That is why I asked. You mustn't mind! You see I have met a great +many Churchmen who preach what they do not practise, and it has +rather worried me. Because, of course, if they really believed in +God they would he careful not to do things which their faith forbids +them to do." + +He was silent. + +"My next question is just as audacious as my first,"--she went on +after a pause--"It is this--do you believe in Christ?" + +He rose from his chair and stood tenderly looking down upon her. His +old authoritative energy inspired him,--he had now recovered himself +sufficiently to be able to trample down his own clamorous personal +emotions for the time and to think only of his spiritual duty. + +"I believe in Him as the one Divine Man ever born!" he said. + +"Is that quite sufficient for orthodoxy?" And she looked up at him +with a half smile. + +"Perhaps not! But I fear orthodoxy and I are scarcely the best of +friends!" he replied--"Must I really tell you my own private form of +belief?" + +"Ah yes!--please do so!" she answered gently--"It will help me so +much!" + +He paused a moment. Then he said-- + +"I believe this,--that Christ was born into the world as a Sign and +Symbol of the life, death and destined immortality of each +individual human soul. Into the mystery of His birth I do not +presume to penetrate. But I see Him as He lived,--the embodiment of +Truth--crucified! I see Him dead,--rising from the grave to take +upon Himself eternal life. I accept Him as the true manifestation of +the possible Divine in Man--for no man before or after Him has had +such influence upon the human race. And I am convinced that the +faithful following of His Gospel ensures peace in this world, and +joy in the world to come!" + +He paused, and drew nearer to her. "Will that suffice you?" + +Her eyes were turned away from his, but he could see a sparkle as of +dew on her lashes. + +"Sit down by me again,"--she said in a low uncertain voice--"You do +believe!--and now that I know this for certain, I can make my +confession to you." + +He resumed his seat beside her couch. + +"Surely you have nothing to confess--" he said, gently. + +"Why yes, I have!" she declared--"I've not been good, you know!" + +He smiled. + +"Have you not?" But his voice trembled a little--"Well! I suppose I +must believe you--but it will be difficult!" + +She looked down at the bunch of violets she held, and touched the +purple and white blossoms tenderly. + +"I don't mean,"--she continued softly--"that I have been downright +wicked in a criminal sense. Oh no!--I haven't anything to confess +that way! What I mean is that I haven't been religious. Now please +let me go straight on and explain--will you?" + +He made a slight gesture of assent. + +"Well now, to begin with," she said--"of course when I was quite a +child, I was taught to say prayers, and I was taken to church on +Sundays just in the usual way. But I never could quite believe there +was anyone to listen to my prayers, and going to church bored me and +made me dreadfully sleepy. All the clergymen seemed to talk and +preach in exactly the same way, and they all spoke in the same sing- +song voice. I found it very dull and monotonous. I was told that God +lived up in the sky, and that He loved me very much and would take +care of me always,--but I never could make out why, if God loved me, +He should not tell me so Himself, without the help of a clergyman. +Because then I should have understood things better. I daresay it +was a very wicked idea,--but it used to come into my head like that, +and I couldn't help it. Then, everything in my life as a child came +to an end with a great crash as it were, when my father was killed. +I adored my father! He was always kind to me,--always tender!--he +was the only man in the world that ever loved me! And when he was +taken away suddenly from me like that, and I was told it was God's +will, I hated God! I did really! You know unless you are a born +angel, it is natural to hate anyone who takes away the dearest and +most beloved thing you have to live for, isn't it?" + +John turned his head a little away, and looked straight before him +into the glowing embers of the fire. A deep sigh involuntarily +escaped him. + +"I suppose it is natural!" he said, slowly--"But we must fight +against nature. We must believe that God knows best!" + +Her eyes, blue as flax-flowers, turned towards him wistfully. + +"You believe that?" she asked--"You are sure that God means +everything for the best, even when He makes you suffer for no fault +of your own?" + +At this his heart was sorely troubled within him, but he answered +quietly and firmly-- + +"Yes! I am sure that God means everything for the best, even when He +makes me suffer for no fault of my own!" + +His voice, always soft and mellow, dropped to a tenderer cadence, +as,--like a true servant of the Master he served,--he faithfully +asserted his belief, that even in personal sorrow, the Divine will +is always a Divine blessing. + +A pause of silence ensued. Then Maryllia went on somewhat +hesitatingly-- + +"Well, I was wicked, you see! I could NOT believe that God meant it +for the best in killing my father! And I know that my father himself +never could understand that God was at all good in allowing my +mother to die when I was born. So that I was quite set against God, +when, after my father's death, Uncle Fred and his wife came and took +me away to live with them, and adopted me as their daughter. And +living with them, and being always surrounded by the society they +entertained, made me forget religion altogether. They never went to +church,--neither did any of the people they called their friends. +Indeed nobody I ever met in all the 'sets' of London, or Paris, or +New York ever seemed to think of God or a future life at all. Some +of them went in for what they called 'spiritualism' and deceived +each other in the most terrible way! I never heard people tell so +many dreadful lies! They used to joke about it afterwards. But no +one ever seemed to think that religion,--real religion--real +Christianity--was at all necessary or worth talking about. They +called it an 'exploded myth.' When I met Cicely Bourne I found that +SHE believed in it. And I was quite surprised! Because she had such +a hard life, and she had always been so cruelly treated, that I +wondered how she could believe in anything. But she told me that +when she knew she had a voice and a gift for music, she used to pray +that an angel might be sent to help her,--and when I asked her--'Did +the angel come?' she said that God had sent ME as the angel! Of +course it wasn't true, but it was very sweet of her to say it!" + +She paused. Walden was quite silent. Leaning his elbow on the raised +head of her couch, he shaded his brow with one hand, thus partially +covering his eyes from the glow of the fire. There were tears in +those eyes, and he was afraid she would see them. + +"Cicely was always so brave and contented,"--she presently +continued--"And as I learned to know more of her I began to wonder +if really after all, her religion helped her? And then there came a +time of great worry and trouble for me--and--I came home here to try +and find peace and rest--and I met YOU!" + +He moved restlessly, but said nothing. + +"To meet you was an event in my life!" she said, turning. towards +him a little, and laying her hand timidly on his coat sleeve--"It +was really!" + +He looked at her,--and a wave of warmth passed over his face. + +"Was it?" he murmured. + +"Of course it was!" she declared,--and almost she laughed--"You +won't understand me, I daresay!--but to meet you. for the first time +is a kind of event to most people! They begin to think about you,-- +they can't help it! You are so different from the ordinary sort of +clergyman,--I don't know how or why,--but you are!" + +He smiled a trifle sadly. + +"Talk of yourself, not of me,"--he said, uneasily. + +"Yes, but I cannot very well talk of myself now without bringing you +into it,"--she insisted,--"And you must let me tell my story in my +own way!" + +He shaded his eyes again from the firelight, and listened. + +"After I met you that morning," she went on--"I heard many things +about you in the village. Everyone seemed to love you!--yes, even +the tiniest children! The poor people, the old and the sick, all +seemed to trust you as their truest and best friend! And when I knew +all this I began to think very earnestly about the religious faith +which seemed to make you what you are. I didn't go to church to hear +you preach--you know that!--I only went once--and I was late--you +remember?--So it has not been anything you have said in the pulpit +that has changed me so much. It is just YOU, yourself! It is because +you live your life as you do that I want to learn to live the rest +of mine just a little bit like it, even though I am crippled and +more or less useless. You will teach me, won't you? I want to have +your faith--your goodness---" + +He interrupted her. + +"Do not call me good!" he said, faintly--"I cannot bear it--I +cannot!" + +She looked at him, and there were tears in her eyes. + +"I'm afraid you will have to bear it!" she said, softly--"For you +ARE good!--you have always been good to ME! And I do honestly +believe that God means everything for the best as you say, because +now I am a cripple, I have escaped once and for all from the +marriage my aunt was trying to force me into with Lord Roxmouth. I +thank God every minute of my life for that!" + +"You never loved him?" + +John's voice was very low and tremulous as he asked this question. + +"Never!" she answered, in the same low tone. "How could you think +it?" + +"I did not know--I was not quite sure---" he murmured. + +"No, I never loved him!" she said, earnestly--"I always feared and +hated him! And he did not love me,--he only cared for the money my +aunt would have left me had I married him. But I have always wanted +to be loved for myself--and this has been my great trouble. If +anyone had ever really cared for me, I think it would have made me +good and wise and full of trust in God--I should have been a much +better woman than I am--I am sure I should! People say that the love +I want is only found in poems and story books, and that my fancies +are quite ridiculous. Perhaps they are. But I can't help it. I am +just myself and no other!" She smiled a little--then went on--"Lord +Roxmouth has a great social position,--but, to my mind, he has +degraded it. I could not have married a man for whom I had no +respect. You see I can talk quite easily about all this because it +is past. For of course now I am a cripple, the very idea of marriage +for me is all over. And I am really very glad it is so. No one can +spread calumnies about me, or compromise my name any more. And even +the harm Lord Roxmouth meant to try and do to YOU, has been stopped. +So this time God HAS answered my prayers." + +John looked up suddenly. + +"Did you pray---?" he began in a choked voice-then checked himself, +and said quickly--"Dear child, I do not think Lord Roxmouth could +have ever done me any harm!" + +"Ah, you don't know him as I do!" and she sighed--"He stops at +nothing. He will employ any base tool, any mean spy, to gain his own +immediate purposes. And--and--" she hesitated--"you know I wrote to +you about it---he saw us in the picture gallery---" + +"Well!" said John, and his eyes kindled into a sudden light and +fire--"What if he did?" + +"You were telling me how much you disliked seeing women smoke"--she +faltered--"And--and--you spoke of Psyche,--you remember---" + +"I remember!" And John grew bolder and more resolute in spirit as he +saw the soft rose flush on her cheeks and listened to the dulcet +tremor of her voice--"I shall never forget!" + +"And he thought--he thought---" here her words sank almost to a +whisper--"that I--that you---" + +He turned suddenly and looked down upon her where she lay. Their +eyes met,--and in that one glance, love flashed a whole unwritten +history. Stooping over her, he caught her little hands in his own, +and pressed them against his heart with strong and passionate +tenderness. + +"If he thought I loved you,"--he said--"he was right! I loved you +then--I love you now!--I shall love you for ever--till death, and +beyond it! My darling, my darling! You know I love you!" + +A half sob, a little smile answered him,--and then soft, broken +words. + +"Yes--I know!--I always knew!" + +He folded his arms about her, and drew her into an embrace from +which he wildly thought not Death itself should tear her. + +"And you care?" he whispered. + +"I care so much that I care for nothing else!" she said--then, all +suddenly she broke down and began to weep pitifully, clinging to him +and murmuring the grief she had till now so bravely restrained--"But +it is all too late!" she sobbed--"Oh my dearest, you love me,--and I +love you,--ah!--you will never know how much!--but it is too late!-- +I can be of no use to you!--I can never be of use! I shall only be a +trouble to you,--a drag and a burden on your days!--oh John!--and a +little while ago I might have been your joy instead of your sorrow!" + +He held her to him more closely. + +"Hush, hush!" he said softly, soothing her as he would have soothed +a child,--and with mingled tenderness and reverence, he kissed the +sweet trembling lips, the wet eyes, the tear-stained cheeks--"Hush, +my little girl! You are all my joy in this world--can you not feel +that you are?" And he kissed her again and yet again. "And I am so +unworthy of you!--so old and worn and altogether unpleasing to a +woman--I am nothing! Yet you love me! How strange that seems!--how +wonderful!--for I have done nothing to deserve your love. And had +you been spared your health and strength, I should never have +spoken--never! I would not have clouded your sunny life with my +selfish shadow. No! I should have let you go on your way and have +kept silence to the end! For in all your vital brightness and beauty +I should never have dared to say I love you, Maryllia!" + +At this she checked her sobs, and looked up at him in vague +amazement. + +"You would never have spoken?" + +"Never!" + +"You would have let me live on here, quite close to you, seeing you +every day, perhaps, without a word of the love in your heart?" + +He kissed her, half-smiling. + +"I think I should!" + +"Then"--said Maryllia, with grave sweetness--"I know that God does +mean everything for the best--and I thank Him for having made me a +cripple! Because if my trouble has warmed your heart,--your cold, +cold heart, John!"--and she smiled at him through her tears--"and +has made you say you love me, then it is the most blessed and +beautiful trouble I could possibly have, and has brought me the +greatest happiness of my life! I am glad of it and proud of it,--I +glory in it! For I would rather know that you love me than be the +straightest, brightest, loveliest woman in the world! I would rather +be here in your arms--so--" and she nestled close against him--"than +have all the riches that were ever counted!--and--listen, John!" +Here, with her clinging, caressing arms, she drew his head down +close to her breast--"Even if I have to die and leave you soon, I +shall know that all is right with my soul!--yes, dear, dear John!-- +because you will have taken away all its faults and made it +beautiful with your love!--and God will love it for love's sake, +almost as much as He must love you for your own, John!" + +There was only one way--there never has been more than one way--to +answer such tender words, and John took that way by silencing the +sweet lips that spoke them with a kiss in which the pent-up passion +of his soul was concentrated. The shadows of the winter gloaming +deepened;--the firelight died down to a mass of rosy embers;-and +when Cicely softly opened the door an hour later, the room was +almost dark. But the scent of violets was in the air--she heard soft +whisperings, and saw that two human beings at least, out of all a +seeking world, had found the secret of happiness. And she stole away +unseen, smiling, yet with glad tears in her eyes, and a little +unuttered song in her heart-- + + "If to love is the best of all things known, + We have gain'd the best in the world, mine own! + We have touch'd the summit of love--and live + God Himself has no more to give!" + + + + +XXXII + + +The prime of youth is said to be the only time of life when lovers +are supposed by poets and romancists to walk 'on air,' so as John +Walden was long past the age when men are called young, it is +difficult to determine the kind of buoyant element on which he trod +when he left the Manor that evening. Youth!--what were its vague +inchoate emotions, its trembling hesitations, its more or less +selfish jealousies, doubts and desires, compared to the strong, +glowing and tender passion which filled the heart of this man, so +long a solitary in the world, who now awaking to the consciousness +of love in its noblest, purest form, knew that from henceforth he +was no longer alone! A life,--delicate and half broken by cruel +destiny, hung on his for support, help and courage,--a soul, full of +sweetness and purity, clung to him for its hope of Heaven! The glad +blood quickened in his veins,--he was twice a man,--never had he +felt so proud, so powerful, and withal so young. Like the Psalmist +he could have said 'My days are renewed upon the earth'--and he +devoutly thanked God for the blessing and glory of the gift of love +which above all others makes existence sweet. + +"My darling!" he murmured, as he walked joyously along the little +distance stretching between the lodge gates of the Manor and his own +home--"She shall never miss one joy that I can give her! How +fortunate it is that I am tall and strong, for when the summer days +come I can lift her from her couch and carry her out into the garden +like a little child in my arms, and she will rest under the trees, +and perhaps gradually get accustomed to the loss of her own bright +vitality if I do my utmost best to be all life to her! I will fill +her days with varied occupations and try to make the time pass +sweetly,--she shall keep all her interests in the village--nothing +shall be done without her consent--ah yes!--I know I shall be able +to make her happier than she would be if left to bear her trouble +quite alone! If she were strong and well, I should be no fit partner +for her--but as it is--perhaps my love may comfort her, and my +unworthiness be forgiven!" + +Thus thinking, he arrived at his rectory, and entering, pushed open +the door of his study. There, somewhat to his surprise, he found Dr. +'Jimmy' Forsyth standing in a meditative attitude with his back to +the fire. + +"Hullo, Walden!" he said--"Here you are at last! I've been waiting +for you ever so long!" + +"Have you?" and John, smiling radiantly, threw off his hat, and +pushed back his grey-brown curls from his forehead--"I'm sorry! +Anything wrong?" Dr. 'Jimmy' shrugged his shoulders. + +"Nothing particular. Oliver Leach is dead,--that's all!" + +Walden started back. The smile passed from his face, for, +remembering the scarcely veiled threats of his parishioners, he +began to fear lest they should have taken some unlawful vengeance on +the object of their hatred. + +"Dead!" he echoed amazedly--"Surely no one--no one has killed him?" + +"Not a bit of it!" said Forsyth, complacently--"It just happened!" + +"How?" + +"Well, it appears that the rascal has been lying low for a +considerable time in the house of our reverend friend, Putwood +Leveson. That noble soul has been playing 'sanctuary' to him, and no +doubt warned him of the very warm feeling with which the villagers +of St. Rest regarded him. He has been maturing certain plans, and +waiting till an opportunity should arise for him to get away to +Riversford, where apparently he intended to take up his future +abode, Mordaunt Appleby the brewer having offered him a situation as +brewery accountant. The opportunity occurred last night, so I hear. +He managed to get off with his luggage in a trap, and duly arrived +at the Crown Inn. There he was set upon in the taproom by certain +old friends and gambling associates, who accused him of wilfully +attempting to injure Miss Vancourt. He denied it. Thereupon they +challenged him to drink ten glasses of raw whiskey, one on top of +another, to prove his innocence. It was a base and brutal business, +but he accepted the challenge. At the eighth glass he fell down +unconscious. His companions thought he was merely drunk--but--as it +turned out--he was dead." [Footnote: This incident happened lately +in a village in the south of England.] + +Walden heard in silence. + +"It's horrible!" he said at last--"Yet--I cannot say sorry! I +suppose as a Christian minister I ought to be,--but I'm not! I only +hope none of my people were concerned in the matter?" + +"You may be quite easy on that score,"--replied Forsyth--"Of course +there will be an inquest, and a severe reproof will be administered +to the men who challenged him,--but there the affair will end. I +really don't think we need grieve ourselves unduly over the exit of +one scoundrel from a world already overburdened with his species." +With that, he turned and poked the fire into a brighter blaze. "Let +us talk of something else"--he said. "I called in to tell you that +Santori is in London, and that I have taken the responsibility upon +myself of sending for him to see Miss Vancourt." + +Walden was instantly all earnest attention. + +"Who is Santori?" he asked. + +"Santori," replied Forsyth, "is a great Italian, whose scientific +researches into medicine and surgery have won him the honour of all +nations, save and except the British. We are very insular, my dear +Walden!--we never will tolerate the 'furriner' even if he brings us +health and healing in his hand! Santori is a medical 'furriner,' +therefore he is generally despised by the English medical +profession. But I'm a Scotsman--I've no prejudices except my own!" +And he laughed--"And I acknowledge Santori as one of the greatest +men of the age. He is a scientist as well as a surgeon--and his +great 'speciality' is the spine and nerves. Now I have never quite +explained to you the nature of Miss Vancourt's injuries, and there +is no need even now to particularise them. The main point of her +case is that in the condition she is now, she must remain a cripple +for life,--and" here he hesitated,--"that life cannot, I fear, be a +very long one." + +Walden turned his head away for a moment. + +"Go on!" he said huskily. + +"At the same time," continued Dr. Forsyth, gently--"there are no +bones broken,--all the mischief is centred in damage to the spine. I +sent, as you know, for Wentworth Glynn, our best specialist in this +country, and he assured me there was no hope whatever of any change +for the better. Yesterday, I happened to see in the papers that +Santori had arrived in London for a few weeks, and, acting on a +sudden inspiration, I wrote him a letter at once, explaining the +whole case, and asking him to meet me in consultation. He has wired +an answer to-day, saying he will be here to-morrow." + +Walden's eyes were full of sorrowful pain and yearning. + +"Well!" he said, with a slight sigh--"And what then?" + +"What then?" responded Dr. 'Jimmy' cheerfully--"Why nothing,--except +that it will be more satisfactory to everyone concerned,--and to me +particularly--to have his opinion." + +There was a pause. John gazed down into the fire as though he saw a +whole world of mingled grief and joy reflected in its crimson glow. +Then, suddenly lifting his head, he looked his friend full in the +face. + +"Forsyth,"--he said--"I think I ought to tell you--you ought to +know--I am going to marry her!" + +Without a word, 'Jimmy' gripped his hand and pressed it hard. Then +he turned very abruptly, and walked up and down the little room. And +presently he drew out his glasses and polished them vigorously +though they were in no need of this process. + +"I thought you would!" he said, after a while--"Of course I saw how +the land lay! I knew you loved her---" + +"I suppose that was easy to guess!" said John, a warm flush of +colour rising to his brows as he spoke--"But you could not have +imagined for a moment that she would love me! Yet she does! That is +the wonder of it! I am such an old humdrum fellow--and she is so +young and bright and pretty! It seems so strange that she should +care!" + +Dr. Forsyth looked at him with an appreciative twinkle in his eye. +Then he laid a friendly hand upon his shoulder, + +"You are a quaint creature, John!" he said--"Yet, do you know, I +rather like your humdrum ways? I do, positively! And if I were a +woman, I think I should esteem myself fortunate if I got you for a +husband! I really should! You certainly don't suffer from swelled +head, John--that's a great point in your favour!" + +He laughed,--and John laughed with him. Then, drawing their chairs +to opposite sides of the fire, they talked for an hour or more on +the subject that was most interesting to them both, John was for +marrying Maryllia as soon as possible--"in order that I may have the +right to watch over her," he urged, and Forsyth agreed. + +"But wait till Santori has seen her, and given his opinion,"--he +said--"If he comes, as his telegram says he will to-morrow, we can +take him entirely into our confidence, to decide what is best for +her peace and pleasure. The ceremony of marriage can be gone through +privately at the Manor,--by the way, why don't you ask your friend +the Bishop to officiate? I suppose he knows the position?" + +"He knows much, but not all,"--said John--"I wrote to him about the +accident of course--and have written to him frequently since, but I +did not think I should ever have such news to tell him as I have +now!" His eyes darkened with deep feeling. "He has had his own +tragedy--he will understand mine!" + +A silence fell between them,--and soon after, Forsyth took his +leave. Walden, left alone, and deeply conscious of the new +responsibility he had taken upon his life, set to work to get +through his parish business for the evening, in order to have time +to devote to Maryllia the next day, and, writing a long letter to +Bishop Brent, he told him all the history of his late-found +happiness,--his hopes, his sorrows, his fears--and his intention to +show what a man's true love could be to a woman whom unkind destiny +had deprived of all the natural joys of living. He added to this +letter a few words referring to Forsyth's information respecting the +Italian specialist, Santori, who had been sent for to see Maryllia +and pronounce on her condition--"but I fear," he wrote, "that there +is nothing to be done, save to resign ourselves to the apparently +cruel and incomprehensible will of God, which in this case has +declared itself in favour of allowing the innocent to suffer." + +Next morning he awoke to find the sun shining brightly from a sky +almost clear blue, save for a few scattered grey fleecy clouds,-- +and, stepping out into his garden, the first thing he noticed was a +root of primroses breaking shyly into flower. Seeing Bainton +trimming the shrubbery close by, he called his attention to it. + +"Spring is evidently on the way, Bainton!" he said cheerily, "We are +getting past the white into the gold again!" + +"Ay, Passon, that we be!" rejoined Bainton, with a smile--"An' +please the Lord, we'll soon get from the gold into the blue, an' +from the blue into the rose! For that's allus the way o' the year,-- +first little white shaky blossoms wot's a bit afraid of theirselves, +lest the frost should nip 'em,--and then the deep an' the pale an' +the bright gold blossoms, which just laughs at dull weather--an' +then the blue o' the forget-me-nots an' wood-bells,--an' the red o' +the roses to crown all. An' mebbe," he continued, with a shrewd +upward glance at his master's face--"when the roses come, there'll +be a bit of orange-blossom to keep 'em company---" + +John started,--and then his kind smile, so warm and sunny and sweet, +shone like a beam of light itself across his features. + +"What, Bainton!" he said--"So you know all about it already!" + +Bainton began to chuckle irrepressibly. + +"Well, if the village ain't a liar from its one end to its +t'otherest, then I knows!" he declared triumphantly--"Lord love ye, +Passon, you don't s'pose ye can keep any secrets in this 'ere +parish? They knows all about ye 'fore ye knows yerself!--an' Missis +Spruce she came down from the Manor last night in such a state o' +fluster as never was, an' she sez, all shakin' like an' smilin'-- +'Miss Maryllia's goin' to be married,' sez she, an' we up an' sez to +'er--'What, is the Dook goin' to 'ave her just the same though she +can't walk no more?' an' she sez: 'Dook, not a bit of it! There's a +better man than any Dook close by an' it's 'im she's goin' to 'ave +an' nobody else, an' it's Passon Walden,' sez she, an' with that we +all gives a big shout, an' she busts out cryin' an' laughin' +together, an' we all doos the same like the nesh fools we are when a +bit o' news pleases us like,--an'--an'---" Here Bainton's voice grew +rather husky and tremulous as he proceeded--"so of course the news +went right through the village two minutes arterwards. An' it's all +we could do to keep from comin' up outside 'ere an' givin' ye a +rousin' cheer 'fore goin' to bed, onny Mr. Netlips 'e said it +wouldn't be 'commensurate,' wotever that is, so we just left it. +Howsomever, I made up my mind I'd be the first to wish ye joy, +Passon!--an' I wish it true!" + +Silently Walden held out his hand. Bainton grasped it with +affectionate respect in his own horny palm. + +"Not that I'd 'ave ever thought you'd a' bin a marryin' man, +Passon!" he averred, his shrewd eyes lighting up with the kindliest +humour--"But it's never too late to mend!" + +Walden laughed. + +"That's true, Bainton! It's never too late to repent of one's +follies and begin to be wise! Thank you for all your good wishes-- +they come from the heart, I know! But"--and his smile softened into +an earnest gravity of expression--"they must be for her--for Miss +Maryllia--not for me! I am already happier than I deserve--but she +needs everyone's good thoughts and prayers to help her to bear her +enforced helplessness--she is very brave--yet--it is hard---" + +He broke off, not trusting himself to say more. + +"It's hard--it's powerful hard!" agreed Bainton, sympathetically-- +"Such a wife as she'd a' made t'ye, Passon, if she'd been as she was +when she come in smilin' an' trippin' across this lawn by your side, +an' ye broke off a bit o' your best lilac for her! There's the very +bush--all leafless twigs now, but strong an' 'elthy an' ready to +bloom again! Ah! I remember that day well!--'twas the same day as ye +sat under the apple tree arter she was gone an' fastened a +threepenny bit with a 'ole in it to ye're watch chain! I seed it! +An' I was fair mazed over that 'oley bit,--but I found out all about +it!--hor-hor-hor!" and Bainton began to laugh with exceeding delight +at his own perspicuity--"A few minutes' gossip with old Missis +Tapple at the post-office did it!--hor-hor-hor! for she told me, +bless 'er heart!--as 'ow Miss Vancourt 'ad given it t'ye for fun, as +a sort o' reward like for sendin' off some telegrams for 'er! Hor- +hor! There's naught like a village for findin' out everybody's +little secrets, an' our village beats every other one I ever heard +tell on at that kind o' work, it do reely now! I say, Passon, when +they was spreadin' all the stories round about you an' Miss +Vancourt, I could a' told a tale about the 'oley bit, couldn't I?" + +"You could indeed!" laughed John, good-naturedly--"and yet--I +suppose you didn't!" + +"Not I!" said Bainton, stoutly--"I do talk a bit, but I ain't Missis +Spruce, nor I ain't turned into a telephone tube yet. Mebbe I will +when I'm a bit older. 'Ave ye heard, Passon, as 'ow Oliver Leach is +dead?" + +"Yes,--Dr. Forsyth told me last night." + +"Now d'ye think a man like 'im is gone to Heaven!" demanded Bainton- +-"Honest an' true, d'ye think the Lord Almighty wants 'im?" + +John was rather non-plussed. His garrulous gardener watched his face +with attentive interest. + +"Don't ye answer unless ye like, Passon!" he observed, sagaciously-- +"I don't want to make ye say things which ain't orthodox! You keep a +still tongue, an' I shall understand!" + +John took the hint. He 'kept a still tongue'--and turned back from +the garden into the house. Bainton chuckled softly. + +"Passon can't lie!" he said to himself--"He couldn't do it to save +his life! That's just the best of 'im! Now if he'd begun tellin' me +that he was sure that blackhearted rascal 'ad gone to keep company +with the angels I'd a nigh despised im!--I would reely now!" + +That same morning, when John walked up to the Manor again, he +entered it as a privileged person, invested with new authority. +Cicely ran to meet him, and frankly put up her face to be kissed. + +"A thousand and one congratulations!" she said--"I knew this would +come!--I was sure of it! But the credit of the first guess is due to +the Mooncalf,--Julian, you know!--he's a poet, and he made up a +whole romance about you and Maryllia the first day he ever saw you +with her!" + +"Did he?"--and Walden smiled--"Well, he was right! I am very happy, +Cicely!" + +"So am I!" And the 'Goblin' clasped her hands affectionately across +his arm--"You are just the very man I should have chosen for +Maryllia!--the only man, in fact--I've never met anybody else worthy +of her! But oh, if she were only strong and well! Do you know that +Dr. Forsyth is bringing another specialist to see her this +afternoon?" + +"Yes, I know!" + +"And there's other news for you this morning"--pursued Cicely, a +broad smile lighting up her face and eyes--"Very amusing news! Lord +Roxmouth is married!" + +"Married!" exclaimed Walden, incredulously--"Not possible!" + +"Come and see the wedding cards!"--and Cicely, laughing outright, +caught his hand, and pulled him along into the morning room, where +Maryllia, with her couch turned so that she could see the first +glimpse of her lover as he entered the doorway, was eagerly awaiting +his approach--"Maryllia, here's John! Prove to him at once please +that Mrs. Fred's millions are lost to you forever!" + +Maryllia laughed, and blushed sweetly too, as John bent over her and +kissed her with a very expressive look of tenderness, not to say +proprietorship. + +"It's true, John!" she said--"Lord Roxmouth has married Aunt Emily!" + +John's blue eyes lighted with sudden laughter. + +"Well done!" he exclaimed, gaily--"Anything for the millions, +evidently! What a comfort to think he has secured them at last! And +so you have become the niece instead of the wife of the future duke, +my Maryllia! When and where were they married?" + +"Last week at the Embassy in Paris. Cicely wrote to Aunt Emily at +New Year, telling her that though I was much better, the doctors had +said I should be a cripple for life. Well, we never had any answer +at all to that letter,--not a word of regret, or affection or +sympathy. Then,--this morning--behold!--the Roxmouth wedding cards!" + +She took a silver-bordered envelope lying on a little table close +beside her, and drawing out from it the cards in question, held them +up to his view. Walden glanced at them with a touch of contempt. + +"Shall I wire our united heartiest congratulations?" he queried, +smiling--"And add that we are engaged to be married?" + +"Do!" said Maryllia, clasping his hand in her own and kissing it-- +"Go and send the wire off through dear old Mrs. Tapple! And then all +the village will know how happy I am!" + +"How happy WE are,"--corrected John--"I think they know that +already, Maryllia! But it shall be well impressed upon them!" + +Later on, when he was in the village, making his usual round of +visits among the sick and poor, and receiving the affectionate good +wishes of many who had heard the news of his betrothal, he saw Dr. +Forsyth driving up to the Manor in his gig with another man beside +him, who, as he rightly guessed, was no other than the celebrated +Italian specialist, Santori. Forsyth had promised to come and tell +him the result of the consultation as soon as he knew it himself, +and Walden waited for him hour after hour with increasing +impatience. At last he appeared,--pale, and evidently under the +influence of some strongly suppressed excitement. + +"Walden,"--he said, without preface or hesitation--"are you prepared +to face a great crisis?" + +Walden's heart almost stood still. Had anything happened to Maryllia +in the short space of time which had elapsed since he saw her last? + +"What do you mean?!" he faltered--"I could not bear to lose her-- +now---" + +"You must lose her in a year at the utmost, if you do not run the +risk of losing her to save her now,"--said Forsyth, bluntly-- +"Santori has seen her--and--keep cool, John!--he says there is just +one chance of restoring her to her former health and activity again, +but it is a chance fraught with imminent danger to her life. He will +not risk it without her full consent,--and (knowing you are her +betrothed husband)--yours. It is a very serious and difficult +operation,--she may live through it, and she may not." + +"I will not have it!" said Walden, quickly, almost fiercely, "She +shall not be touched---" + +"Wait!" continued Forsyth, regarding him steadily--"In her present +condition, she will die in a year. She must. There is no help for +it. If Santori operates--and he is quite willing to undertake it-- +she may live,--and not only may she live, but she may be absolutely +strong and well again,--able to walk and ride, and enjoy her life to +the full. It rests with her and with you to decide,--yes or no!" + +Walden was silent. + +"I may as well tell you,"--went on Forsyth--"that she--Miss Vancourt +herself,--is ready to risk it. Santori has gone back to London to- +night,--but if we agree to place her under his hands he will come +and perform the operation next week." + +"Next week!" murmured Walden, faintly--"Must it be so soon?" + +"The sooner the better,"--said Forsyth, quietly, yet firmly, "Come, +John, face this thing out! I am thinking of the chance of her +happiness as well as yours. Is it worth while to sacrifice the whole +of a young life's possible activity for the sake of one year's +certainty of helplessness with death at the end? Wrestle the facts +out with yourself;--go and see her to-night. And after you have +talked it over together, let me know." + +He went out then, and left Walden alone to face this new dark cloud +of anxiety and suspense that seemed to loom over a sky which he +imagined had just cleared. But when he saw Maryllia that evening, +her face reflected nothing but sunshine, and her eyes were radiant +with hope. + +"I must take this chance, John!" she said--"Do not withhold your +consent! Think what it means to us both if this great surgeon is +able to set me on my feet again!--and he is so kind and gentle!--he +says he has every hope of success! What happiness it will be for me +if I can be all in all to you, John!--a real true wife, instead of a +poor helpless invalid dependent on your daily care!--oh John, let me +show you how much I love you by facing this ordeal, and trying to +save my life for your sake!" + +He drew her into his arms, and folded her close to his heart. + +"My child--my darling! If you wish it, it shall be done!" he +murmured brokenly--"And may God in His great mercy be good to us +both! But if you die, my Maryllia, I shall die too--so we shall +still be together!" + +So it was settled; and Dr. Forsyth, vacillating uneasily between +hope and fear, communicated the decision at once to the famous +Italian surgeon, who, without any delay or hesitation responded by +promptly fixing a day in the ensuing week for his performance of the +critical task which was either to kill or cure a woman who to one +man was the dearest of all earth's creatures. And with such dreadful +rapidity did the hours fly towards that day that Walden experienced +in himself all the trembling horrors of a condemned criminal who +knows that his execution is fixed for a certain moment to which Time +itself seems racing like a relentless bloodhound, sure of its +quarry. Writing to Bishop Brent he told him all, and thus concluded +his letter:-- + +"If I lose her now--now, after the joy of knowing that she loves me- +-I shall kneel before you broken-hearted and implore your +forgiveness for ever having called you selfish in the extremity of +your grief and despair for the loss of love. For I am myself utterly +selfish to the heart's core, and though I say every night in my +prayers 'Thy Will be done,' I know that if she is taken from me I +shall rebel against that Will! For I am only human,--and make no +pretence to be more than a man who loves greatly." + +During this interval of suspense Cicely and Julian were thrown much +together. Every moment that Walden could spare from his parish work, +he passed by the side of his beloved, knowing that his presence made +her happy, and fearing that these days might be his last with her on +earth. Maryllia herself however seemed to have no such forebodings. +She was wonderfully bright and cheerful, and though her body was so +helpless her face was radiant with such perfect happiness that it +looked as fair as that of any pictured angel. Cicely, recognising +the nature of the ordeal through which these two lovers were +passing, left them as much by themselves as possible, and laid upon +Julian the burden of her own particular terrors which she was at no +pains to conceal. And unfortunately Julian did not, under the +immediate circumstances, prove a very cheery comforter. + +"I hate the knife!" he said, gloomily--"Everyone is cut up or +slashed about in these days--there's too much of it altogether. If +ever a fruit pip goes the way it should not go into my interior +mechanism, I hope it may be left there to sprout up into a tree if +it likes--I don't mind, so long as I'm not sliced up for +appendicitis or pipcitis or whatever it is." + +"I wonder what our great-grandparents used to do when they were +ill?" queried Cicely, with a melancholy stare in her big, pitiful +dark eyes. + +"They let blood,"--replied Julian--"They used to go to the barber's +and get a vein cut at the same time as their hair. Of course it was +all wrong. We all know now that it was very wrong. In another +hundred years or so we shall find out that twentieth-century surgery +was just as wrong." + +Cicely clasped her hands nervously. + +"Oh, don' you think Maryllia will come through the operation all +right?" she implored, for about the hundredth time in the course of +two days. + +Julian looked away from her. + +"I don't know--and I don't like to express any opinion about it,"-- +he answered, with careful gentleness--"But there is danger--and--if +the worst should happen---" + +"It won't happen! It shan't happen!" cried Cicely passionately. + +"Dear little singing Goblin, I wish you could control fate!" And, +taking her hand, he patted it affectionately. "Everything would be +all right for everybody if you could make it so, I'm sure!--even for +me! Wouldn't it?" + +Cicely blushed suddenly. + +"I don't know,"--she said--"I never think about you!" + +He smiled. + +"Don't you? Well,--perhaps some day you will! When you are a great +prima donna, you will read the poems and verses I shall write about +you in all the newspapers and magazines, and you will say as you +take kings' and emperors' diamonds out of your hair: 'Who is this +fellow? Ah yes! I remember him! He was a chum of mine down in the +little village of St. Rest. I called him Mooncalf, and he called me +Goblin. And--he was very fond of me!'" + +She laughed a little, and drew away her hand from his. + +"Don't talk nonsense!" she said--"Think of Maryllia--and of Mr. +Walden!" + +"I do think of them,--I think of them all the time!" declared Julian +earnestly--"And that is why I am so uneasy. For--if the worst should +happen, it will break Walden's heart." + +Cicely's eyes filled with tears. She hurried away from him without +another word or glance. + +The fateful morning dawned. Walden had parted from Maryllia the +previous night, promising himself that he would see her again before +she passed into the surgeon's hands,--but Forsyth would not permit +this. + +"She does not wish it, John,"--he said--"And she has asked me to +tell you so. Stay away from the Manor--keep quiet in your own house, +if you feel unable to perform your usual round of work. It will be +best for her and for you. I will let you know directly the operation +is over. Santori is already here. Now"--and he gave Walden's hand a +close and friendly grip--"steady, John! Say your prayers if you +like,--we want all the help God can give us!" + +The door opened and closed again--he was gone. A great silence,--a +horrible oppression and loneliness fell upon Walden's heart. He sank +into his accustomed chair and stared before him with unseeing eyes,- +-mechanically patting his dog Nebbie while gently pushing the animal +back in its attempts to clamber on his knee. + +"My God, my God!" he muttered--"What shall I do without her?" + +Someone opened the door again just then. He started, thinking that +Forsyth had returned perhaps to tell him something he had forgotten. +But the tall attenuated form that confronted him was not that of +Forsyth. A look of amazed recognition, almost of awe, flashed into +his eyes. + +"Brent!" he cried,--and he caught at the pale hands extended to +him,--hands like those of a saint whose flesh is worn by fasting and +prayer;--then, with something of a sob, exclaimed again--"Harry! +How--why did you come?" + +Brent's eyes met his with a world of sympathy and tenderness in +their dark and melancholy depths. + +"I have come,"--he said,--and his musical voice, grave and sweet, +trembled with deep feeling--"because I think this is your dark hour, +John!--and because---perhaps---you may need me!" + +And John, meeting that sad and steadfast gaze, and shaken beyond +control by his pent-up suffering and suspense, suddenly fell on his +knees. + +"Help me!" he cried, appealingly, with the tears struggling in his +throat--"You are right--I need you! Help me to be strong--you are +nearer God than I am! Pray for me!" + +Gently the Bishop withdrew his hands from the fevered clasp that +held them, and laid them tenderly on the bowed head. His lips moved, +but he uttered no words. There was a solemn pause, broken only by +the slow ticking of the clock in the outer hall. + +Presently, rising in obedience to his friend's persuasive touch, +Walden stood awhile with face turned away, trying to master himself, +yet trembling in every nerve, despite his efforts. + +"Brent,"--he began, huskily--"I am ashamed that you should see me +like this---so weak---" + +"A weakness that will make you stronger by and by, John!" and the +Bishop linked a friendly arm within his own--"Come into the church +with me, will you? I feel the influence of your enshrined Saint upon +me! Let us wait for news, good or bad, at the altar,--and while +waiting, we will pray. Do you remember what I said to you when you +came to see me last summer? 'Some day, when we are in very desperate +straits, we will see what your Saint can do for us'? Come!" + +Without a word of demur, John obeyed. They passed out of the house +together and took the private by-path to the church. It was then +about noon, and the sun shone through a soft mist that threatened +rain without permitting it to fall. The faint piping of a thrush in +the near distance suggested the music of the coming Spring, and the +delicate odour of plant-life pushing its way through the earth gave +a pungent freshness to the quiet air. Arriving at the beautiful +little sanctuary, they entered it by the vestry, though the public +door stood open according to invariable custom. A singularly +brilliant glare of luminance reflected from the plain clear glass +that filled the apertures of the rose-window above the altar, struck +aslant on the old-world sarcophagus which doubtless contained the +remains of one who, all 'miraculous' attributes apart, had nobly +lived and bravely died,--and as the Bishop moved reverently round it +to the front of the altar-rails, his eyes were uplifted and full of +spiritual rapture. + +"Kneel here with me, John!" he said--"And with all our hearts and +all our minds, let us pray to God for the life of the beloved woman +whom God has given you,--given, surely, not to take away again, but +to be more completely made your own! Let us pray, as the faithful +servants of Christ prayed in the early days of the Church,--not +hesitatingly, not doubtingly, not fearingly!--but believing and +making sure that our prayers will, if good for us, be granted!" + +They knelt together. Walden, folding his arms on the altar-rails, +hid his face,--but the Bishop, clasping his hands and fixing his +eyes on the word 'Resurget' that flashed out of the worn alabaster-- +wherein the unknown 'Saint' reposed, seemed to gather to himself all +the sunlight that poured through the window above him, and to exhale +from his own slight worn frame something like the mystic halo of +glory pictured round the figure of an apostle or evangelist. + +The minutes slowly ebbed away. The church clock chimed the half-hour +after noon--and they remained absorbed in a trance of speechless, +passionate prayer. They were unaware that some of Walden's +parishioners, moved by the same idea of praying for Maryllia while +she was undergoing the operation which was to save or slay, had come +to the church also for that purpose, but were brought to a pause on +the threshold of the building by the sight they saw within. That +their own beloved 'Passon' should be kneeling at the altar in the +agony of his own heart's Gethsemane was too much for their simple +and affectionate souls,--and they withdrew in haste and silence, +many of them with tears in their eyes. They were considerably awed +too by the discovery that no less a personage than the Bishop of the +diocese himself was companioning Walden in his trouble,--and, moving +away in little groups of twos and threes, they stood about here and +there in the churchyard, waiting for they knew not what, and all +affected by the same thrill of mingled suspense, hope and fear. +Among them was Bainton, who, when he had peered into the white +silence of the church and had seen for himself that it was indeed +his master who was praying there beside his Bishop, made no pretence +to hide his emotion. + +"We be all fools together,"--he said to Adam Frost in hoarse +accents, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand--"We ain't no +stronger nor wiser than a lot o' chitterin' sparrows on a housetop! +Old Josey, he be too weak an' ailin' to get out in this kind o' +weather, but he sez he's prayin' 'ard, which I truly believe he is, +though he ain't in church. All the village is on its knees this +marnin' I reckon, whether it's workin' in fields or gardens, or +barns or orchards, an' if the Lord A'mighty don't take no notice of +us, He must be powerful 'ard of 'earin'!" + +Adam Frost coughed warningly,--jerked his thumb in the direction of +the church, and was silent. + +Suddenly a lark sang. Rising from the thick moss and jgrass which +quilted over the grave of 'th' owld Squire,' Maryllia's father, the +bird soared hoveringly aloft into the sun-warmed February air,--and +by one common impulse the villagers looked up, watching the +quivering of its wings. + +"Bless us! That's the first skylark of the year!" said Mrs. Frost, +who, holding her blue-eyed 'Baby Hippolyta,' otherwise Ipsie, by the +hand, stood near the church porch--"Ain't it singin' sweet?" + +"Fine!" murmured one or two of her gossips near her,--"Seems a good +sign o' smilin' weather!" + +There was a silence then among the merely human company, while the +bird of heaven sang on more and more exultingly, and soared higher +and higher into the misty grey-blue of the sky. + +All at once the clock struck with a sharp clang 'one.' Inside the +church, its deep reverbation startled the watchers from their +prayers with an abrupt shock--and Walden lifted his head from his +folded arms, showing in the bright shaft of strong sunshine that now +bathed him in its radiance, his sad eyes, heavy and swollen with +restrained tears. Suddenly there was a murmur of voices outside,--a +smothered cry,--and then a little flying figure, breathless, +hatless, with wild sparkling eyes and dark hair streaming loose in +the wind, rushed into the church. It was Cicely. "It's all over!" +she cried. + +Walden sprang up, sick and dizzy. Bishop Brent rose from his knees +slowly, his delicate right hand clutching nervously at the altar +rail. Like men in a dream, they heard and gazed, stricken by a +mutual horror too paralysing for speech. + +"All over!"--muttered John, feebly--"My God!--my God! All over!" + +Cicely sprang to him and caught his arm. + +"Yes!--Don't you understand?" and her voice shook with excitement-- +"All over! She is safe!--quite safe!--she will be well!--Mr. +Walden!--John!--don't look at me like that! oh dear!" and she turned +a piteous glance on Bishop Brent who was, to her, a complete +stranger--"He doesn't seem to hear me--please speak to him!--do make +him understand! Everything has been done successfully--and Maryllia +will live--she will be her own dear bright self again! As soon as I +heard the good news, I raced down here to tell you and everybody!-- +oh John!--poor John!" + +For, with a great sigh and a sudden stretching upward of his arms as +though he sought to reach all Heaven with his soul's full measure of +gratitude, John staggered blindly a few steps from the altar of the +Saint's Rest and fell,--senseless. + + * * * * * * * * + +Again the merry month of May came in rejoicing. Again the May-pole +glorious with blossoms and ribbons, made its nodding royal progress +through the village of St. Rest, escorted by well-nigh a hundred +children, who, with laughter and song carried it triumphantly up to +Abbot's Manor, and danced round it in a ring on the broad grassy +terrace facing the open windows of Maryllia's favourite morning +room, where Maryllia herself, sweet and fair as a very queen of +spring, stood watching them, with John Walden at her side. Again +their fresh young voices, gay with the musical hilarity of +happiness, carolled the Mayer's song:-- + + "We have been rambling all this night, + And almost all this day; + And now returning back again, + We bring you in the May! + + A branch of May we have brought you, + And at your door it stands, + 'Tis but a sprout, + But 'tis budded out, + By the work of our Lord's hands. + + The heavenly gates are open wide, + Our paths are beaten plain; + And if a man be not too far gone, + He may return again!" + +"That's true!" said John, slipping an arm round his beloved, and +whispering his words in the little delicate ear half-hidden by the +clustering gold-brown curls above it--"If a man be not too far gone +as a bachelor, he may perhaps 'return again' as a tolerable husband? +What do you think, my Maryllia?" + +Her eyes sparkled with all their own mirth and mischief. + +"I couldn't possibly say--yet!" she said--"You are quite perfect as +an engaged man,--I never heard of anybody quite so attentive--so-- +well!--so nicely behaved!" and she laughed, "But how you will turn +out when you are married, I shouldn't like to prophesy!" + +"If the children weren't looking at us, I should kiss you," he +observed, with a suggestive glance at her smiling lips. + +"I'm sure you would!" she rejoined--"For an 'old' bachelor, John, +you are quite an adept at that kind of thing!" + +Here the little village dancers slackened the speed of their +tripping measure and moved slowly round and round, allowing the +garlands and ribbons to drop from their hands one by one against the +May-pole, as they sang in softer tones-- + + "The moon shines bright, and the stars give light, + A little before it is day, + So God bless you all, both great and small, + And send you a merrie May!" + +Ceasing at this, they all gathered in one group and burst out into +an ecstatic roar. + +"Hurra! Three cheers for Passon!" + +"Hurra! Hurra! Hurra!" + +"Three cheers for Miss Vancourt!" + +"Hurra!" But here there was a pause. Some one was obstructing the +wave of enthusiasm. Signs of mixed scuffling were apparent,--when +all suddenly the bold voice of Bob Keeley cried out: + +"Not a bit of it! Three cheers for Missis Passon!" + +Shouts of laughter followed this irreverent proposal, together with +much whooping and cheering as never was. Ipsie Frost, who of course +was present, no village revel being considered complete without her, +was dancing recklessly all by herself on the grass, chirping in her +baby voice a ballad of her own contriving which ran thus: + + "Daisies white, violets blue, + Cowslips yellow,--and + I loves 'oo! + + Little bird's nest + Up in a tree, + Spring's comin',--and + 'Oo loves me!" + +And it was after Ipsie that Maryllia ran, to cover her smiles and +blushes as the echo of the children's mirth pealed through the +garden,--and with the pretty blue-eyed little creature clinging to +her hand, she came back again sedately, with all her own winsome and +fairy-like stateliness to thank them for their good wishes. + +"They mean it so well, John!" she said afterwards, when the +youngsters, still laughing and cheering, had gone away with their +crowned symbol of the dawning spring--"and they love you so much! I +never knew of any man that was loved so much by so many people in +one little place as you are, John! And to be loved by all the +children is a great thing;--I think--of course I cannot be quite +sure--but I think it is an exceptional thing--for a clergyman!" + + * * * * * * * + + * * * * * + + * * * + +With rose-crowned June, the rose-window in the church of St. Rest +was filled in and completed. Maryllia had found all the remaining +ancient stained glass that had been needed to give the finishing +touch to its beauty, and the loveliest deep gem-like hues shone +through the carven apertures like rare jewels in a perfect setting. +The rays of light filtering through them were wonderful and +mystical,--such as might fall from the pausing wings of some great +ministering angel,--and under the blaze of splendid colour, the +white sarcophagus with its unknown 'Saint' asleep, lay steeped in +soft folds of crimson and azure, gold and amethyst, while even the +hollow notches in the sculptured word 'Resurget' seemed filled with +delicate tints like those painted by old-world monks on treasured +missals. And presently one morning came,--warm with the breath of +summer, sunny and beautiful,--when the window was solemnly re- +consecrated by Bishop Brent at ten o'clock,--a consecration followed +by the loud and joyous ringing of the bells, and a further sacred +ceremony,--the solemnisation of matrimony between John Walden and +Maryllia Vancourt. All the village swarmed out like a hive of bees +from their honey-cells to see their 'Passon' married. Hundreds of +honest and affectionate eyes looked love on the bride, as clad in +the simplest of simple white gowns, with a plain white veil draping +her from head to foot, she came walking to the church across the +warm clover-scented fields, like any village maid, straight from the +Manor, escorted only by Cicely, her one bridesmaid. At the +churchyard gate, she was met by all the youngest girls of the +school, arrayed in white, who, carrying rush baskets full of wild +flowers, scattered them before her as she moved,--and when she +arrived at the church porch, she was followed by the little child +Ipsie, whose round fair cherub-like face reflected one broad smile +of delight, and who carried between her two tiny hands a basket full +to overflowing of old French damask roses, red as the wine-glow of a +summer sunset. The church was crowded,--not only by villagers but by +county folks,--for everyone from near or far that could be present +at what they judged to be a 'strange' wedding--namely a wedding for +love and love alone--had mustered in force for the occasion. One or +two had stayed away from a certain sense of discrepancy in +themselves, to which it is needless to refer. Sir Morton Pippitt was +among these. He felt,--but what he felt is quite immaterial. And so +far as his daughter was concerned, she, as Bainton expressed it, had +'gone a' visitin'.' The Ittlethwaites, of Ittlethwaite Park, in all +the glory of their Magnum Chartus forebears were present, as were +the Mandeville-Porehams--while to Julian Adderley was given the +honour of being Walden's 'best man.' He, as the music of the wedding +voluntary poured from the organ, through the flower-scented air, +wondered doubtfully whether poetic inspiration would ever assist him +in such wise as to enable him to express in language the exquisite +sweetness of Maryllia's face, as, standing beside the man whose +tender and loyal love she was surer of than any other possession in +this world she repeated in soft accents the vow: "to have and to +hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for +poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey +till death do us part!" + +And when Bishop Brent placed her little hand in that of his old +college friend, and pressed them tenderly together, he felt, looking +at the heavenly light that beamed from her sweet eyes, that not even +death itself could part her fond soul from that of the man whom she +loved, and who loved her so purely and faithfully in God's sight. +Thus, when pronouncing the words--"Those whom God hath joined +together, let no man. put asunder!" he was deeply conscious that for +once at least in the troublous and uncertain ways of the modern +world, the holy bond of wedlock was approved of in such wise as to +be final and eternal. + +Away in London, on this same marriage day, Lady Roxmouth, formerly +Mrs. Fred Vancourt, sat at luncheon in her sumptuously furnished +house in Park Lane, and looked across the table at her husband, +while he lazily sipped a glass of wine. + +"That ridiculous girl Maryllia has married her parson by this time I +suppose,"--she said--"Of course it's perfectly scandalous. Lady +Beaulyon was quite disgusted when she heard of it--such an alliance +for a Vancourt! And Mr. and Mrs. Bludlip Courtenay tell me that the +man Walden is quite an objectionable person--positively boorish! +It's dreadful really! But who could ever have imagined she would +recover from that hunting spill? Wentworth Glynn said she was +crippled for life. He told me so himself." + +"Well, he was wrong evidently,"--said Roxmouth, curtly. "English +surgeons are very clever, but they are not always infallible. This +time an Italian has beaten them." + +"Perhaps she was not so seriously injured as the local man at St. +Rest made her out to be,"--pursued her ladyship reflectively. + +Roxmouth said nothing. She studied his face with amused scrutiny. + +"Perhaps it was another little ruse to get rid of you and your +wooing,"--she went on--"Dear me! What an extraordinary contempt +Maryllia always had for you to be sure!" + +He moved restlessly, and she smiled--a hard little smile. + +"I guess you're hankering after her still!" she hinted. + +"Your remarks are in rather bad taste,"--he rejoined, coldly, +helping himself to another glass of wine. + +She rose from her chair, and came round the table to where he sat, +laying a heavily jewelled hand on his shoulder. + +"Well, you've got ME!" she said--"And all I'm worth! And you 'love' +me, don't you?" + +She laughed a little. + +He looked full at her,--at her worn, hard, artificially got-up face, +her fashionable frock, and her cold, expressionless eyes. + +"Oh yes!" he answered, drily--"I 'love' you! You know I do. We +understand each other!" + +"I guess we do!" she thought to herself as she left him--"And when +I'm tired of being called 'My lady' or 'Your Grace' I'll divorce +him! And I'll take care he isn't a penny the richer! There's always +that game to play, and you bet the Smart Set know how to play it!" + +But of the ways, doings or saying of the Smart Set the village of +St. Rest knows little and cares less. It dozes peacefully with the +sun in its eyes, year in and year out, under the shadow of the +eastern hills, with its beloved 'Passon' and now its equally beloved +'Passon's wife,' as king and queen of its tiny governmental +concerns, drawing health and peace, contentment and tranquillity +from the influences of nature, unspoilt by contact with the busier +and wearier world. 'Passon Walden's' wedding-day was the chief great +historic event of its conscious life. For on that never-to-be- +forgotten and glorious occasion, the tenantry of Abbot's Manor, +together with all the villagers and the school-children were +entertained at an open-air festival and dance, which lasted all the +afternoon and evening, on the broad smooth greensward encircling the +famous 'Five Sister' beeches where bride and bridegroom had looked +upon each other for the first time. What a high tide of simple +revelry it was to be sure! Never had the delicate tremulous green +foliage of the rescued trees waved over a happier scene. 'Many a +kiss both odd and even' was exchanged among lads and lasses at that +blithe merry-making,--even Cicely and Julian Adderley were not +always to be found when they were wanted, having taken to 'composing +music and poetry together,' which no doubt quite accounted for their +long rambles together away from all the rest of the merry crowd. +Mrs. Spruce, with a circle of her gossips round her, sat talking the +whole livelong day on the 'ways o' the Lord bein' past findin' out.' + +"For," said she, "when Miss Maryllia first come 'ome she 'adn't an +idee o' goin' to hear Passon Walden, an' sez I 'do-ee go an' hear +'im,' an' she sez--'No, Spruce, I cannot, I don't believe in it'-- +an' I sez to myself, 'never mind, the Lord 'e knows 'is own, which +He do, but 'ard as are His ways I never did think He'd a' brought +her to be Passon's wife,--that do beat me, though it's just what it +should be, an' if the Lord don't know what should be why then no one +don't, an' that 'minds me o' when I sent for Passon to see me unpack +Miss Maryllia's boxes, he was that careful he made me pick up a pair +o' pink shoes what 'ad fell on the floor--'Take care o' them,' he +sez--Lor!--now I come to think of it, he was mortal struck over them +pink shoes!" + +And Bainton commenting on general events observed:-- + +"Well, I did say once that if Passon were married he'd be a fine man +spoilt, but I've altered my mind now! I think he's a fine man full +growed at last, like a plant what's stopped a bit an' suddenly takes +a start an' begins to flower. An' so far as my own line goes, if +Missis Walden, bless 'er, comes round me talkin' about the rectory +garden, which is to be kep' up just the same as ever, an' fusses +like over the lilac bush what he broke a piece off of for her, +well!--I DID say I'd never 'ave a petticut round MY work--but a +pretty petticut's worth looking at, it is reely now!" + +So the harmless chatter among the village folks went on, and the +feasting, dancing and singing lasted long. Chief of important +personages among all that gathered under the old beech-trees was +Josey Letherbarrow,--very feeble,--very dim of eye, but stout of +heart and firm of opinion as ever. Beside him sat Bishop Brent,-- +with Walden himself and his bride,--for from his venerable hands +Maryllia had sought the first blessing on her marriage as soon as +the wedding ceremony had ended. + +"Everything's all right if we'll only believe it!" he said now, +looking with a wistful tenderness from one to the other--"Life's all +right--death's all right! I'm sartin sure I'll find everything just +as I've hoped an' prayed for't when I gets to th' other side o' this +world, for I've 'ad my 'art's best wish given to me when all 'ope +seemed over--an' that was to see Squire's gel 'appy! An' she IS +'appy!--look at 'er, as fresh as a little rose all smilin' an' ready +to bloom on 'er husband's lovin' 'art! Ah! Th' owld Squire would a' +been proud to see 'em this bright day! And as for the Lord A'mighty +He knows what He's about I tell ye!" and Josey nodded his head with +great sagacity--"Some folks think He don't--but He do!" + +The Bishop smiled. + +"Verily I have not found so great a faith--no, not in Israel!"--he +murmured, as presently he rose and strolled away by himself for a +while to muse and meditate. Towards sunset Walden, going in search +of him found him in the rose garden, looking at the profuse red +clusters of bloom in the old French damask border. + +"How they smile openly to the sun!" he said, pointing to them, as +John approached--"Like love!--or faith!" + +John was silent a moment. Then he said suddenly-- + +"Are you going over to Rome, Harry?" + +"No!" And Brent's eyes looked full into those of his friend, +straightly and steadfastly. "Not now. I will do the work appointed +for me to the end!" + +"Thank God!" said Walden, simply. And their hands met in a close +grasp, thereby sealing a wordless compact, never to be broken. + +The sun sank and the moon began to rise. Song and dance gradually +ceased, and the happy villagers began to disperse, and wend their +ways homeward. Love was in the air--love breathed in the perfume of +the flowers--love tuned the throats of the passionate nightingales +that warbled out their mating songs in every hazel copse and from +ever acacia bough in the Manor woods, and love seemed, as the poet +says, to 'sit astride o' the moon' as its silver orb peered over the +gables of the Manor itself and poured a white shower of glory on the +sweet face and delicate form of Maryllia, as she stood in the old +Tudor courtyard, now a veritable wilderness of flowers, with her +husband's arm round her, listening to the faint far-off singing of +the villagers returning to their homes through the scented green +lanes. + +"Everyone has been happy to-day!" she said, looking up with a smile- +-"All the world around us seems to thank God!" + +"All the world would thank Him if it could but find what we have +found!" answered John, drawing her close to his heart--"All it +wants, all it needs, both for itself and others, for this world and +the next, is simply--Love!" + +THE END + + + + + +The Project Gutenberg Etext of God's Good Man, by Marie Corelli +*****This file should be named gdgdm10.txt or gdgdm10.zip***** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, gdgdm11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, gdgdm10a.txt + +Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +More information about this book is at the top of this file. + +We are now trying to release all our etexts one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +https://gutenberg.org or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +etexts, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any Etext before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03 + +Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +The most recent list of states, along with all methods for donations +(including credit card donations and international donations), may be +found online at https://www.gutenberg.org/donation.html + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information at: + +https://www.gutenberg.org/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etexts, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this etext, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the etext, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this header are copyright (C) 2001 by Michael S. Hart +and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] +[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales +of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or +software or any other related product without express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.10/04/01*END* + +End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of God's Good Man, by Marie Corelli + diff --git a/old/4653.zip b/old/4653.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0c0f1fd --- /dev/null +++ b/old/4653.zip |