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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/8892.txt b/8892.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..02f0c24 --- /dev/null +++ b/8892.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6451 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Adela Cathcart, Vol. 1, by George MacDonald + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Adela Cathcart, Vol. 1 + +Author: George MacDonald + +Posting Date: August 8, 2012 [EBook #8892] +Release Date: September, 2005 +First Posted: August 21, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADELA CATHCART, VOL. 1 *** + + + + +Produced by Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + + + + + + ADELA CATHCART + + Volume I. + + BY + + GEORGE MACDONALD M.A. + + Me list not of the chaf ne of the stre + Maken so long a tale as of the corn. + + CHAUCER.--_Man of Lawes Tale_. + + + +ADELA CATHCART + +Originally published in 1864 + +With appreciation to Mrs. Morag Black for the master copies of Volumes +II and III, to the Bodleian Library for the photo-copies of Volume I, +and to Miss Tracy Samuel for type-copying Volumes I, II, and III for +this Edition. + + +To John Rutherfurd Russell M.D. + +This book is affectionately dedicated by the author. + + + +Contents of the First Volume + +Chapter + +I CHRISTMAS EVE +II CHURCH +III THE CHRISTMAS DINNER +IV THE NEW DOCTOR +V THE LIGHT PRINCESS +VI THE BELL +VII THE SCHOOLMASTER'S STORY + + + +ADELA CATHCART. + + +Chapter I. + +Christmas Eve. + + +It was the afternoon of Christmas Eve, sinking towards the night. All +day long the wintry light had been diluted with fog, and now the +vanguard of the darkness coming to aid the mist, the dying day was +well nigh smothered between them. When I looked through the window, it +was into a vague and dim solidification of space, a mysterious region +in which awful things might be going on, and out of which anything +might come; but out of which nothing came in the meantime, except +small sparkles of snow, or rather ice, which as we swept rapidly +onwards, and the darkness deepened, struck faster and faster against +the weather-windows. For we, that is, myself and a fellow-passenger, +of whom I knew nothing yet but the waistcoat and neckcloth, having +caught a glimpse of them as he searched for an obstinate +railway-ticket, were in a railway-carriage, darting along, at an all +but frightful rate, northwards from London. + +Being, the sole occupants of the carriage, we had made the most of it, +like Englishmen, by taking seats diagonally opposite to each other, +laying our heads in the corners, and trying to go to sleep. But for me +it was of no use to try any longer. Not that I had anything particular +on my mind or spirits; but a man cannot always go to sleep at spare +moments. If anyone can, let him consider it a great gift, and make +good use of it accordingly; that is, by going to sleep on every such +opportunity. + +As I, however, could not sleep, much as I should have enjoyed it, I +proceeded to occupy my very spare time with building, up what I may +call a conjectural mould, into which the face, dress, carriage, &c., +of my companion would fit. I had already discovered that he was a +clergyman; but this added to my difficulties in constructing the said +mould. For, theoretically, I had a great dislike to clergymen; having, +hitherto, always found that the _clergy_ absorbed the _man_; and that +the _cloth_, as they called it even themselves, would be no bad +epithet for the individual, as well as the class. For all clergymen +whom I had yet met, regarded mankind and their interests solely from +the clerical point of view, seeming far more desirous that a man +should be a good church man, as they called it, than that he should +love God. Hence, there was always an indescribable and, to me, +unpleasant odour of their profession about them. If they knew more +concerning the _life_ of the world than other men, why should +everything they said remind one of mustiness and mildew? In a word, +why were they not men at worst, when at best they ought to be more of +men than other men?--And here lay the difficulty: by no effort could I +get the face before me to fit into the clerical mould which I had all +ready in my own mind for it. That was, at all events, the face of a +man, in spite of waistcoat and depilation. I was not even surprised +when, all at once, he sat upright in his seat, and asked me if I would +join him in a cigar. I gladly consented. And here let me state a fact, +which added then to my interest in my fellow-passenger, and will serve +now to excuse the enormity of smoking in a railway carriage. We were +going to the same place--we must be; and nobody would enter that +carriage to-night, but the man who had to clean it. For, although we +were shooting along at a terrible rate, the train would not stop to +set us down, but would cast us loose a mile from our station; and some +minutes after it had shot by like an infernal comet of darkness, our +carriage would trot gently up to the platform, as if it had come from +London all on its own hook--and thought nothing of it. + +We were a long way yet, however, from our destination. The night grew +darker and colder, and after the necessary unmuffling occasioned by +the cigar process, we drew our wraps closer about us, leaned back in +our corners, and smoked away in silence; the red glow of our cigars +serving to light the carriage nearly as well as the red nose of the +neglected and half-extinguished lamp. For we were in a second-class +carriage, a fact for which I leave the clergyman to apologize: it is +nothing to me, for I am nobody. + +But, after all, I fear I am unjust to the Railway Company, for there +was light enough for me to see, and in some measure scrutinize, the +face of my fellow-passenger. I could discern a strong chin, and good, +useful jaws; with a firm-lipped mouth, and a nose more remarkable for +quantity than disposition of mass, being rather low, and very +thick. It was surmounted by two brilliant, kindly, black eyes. I lay +in wait for his forehead, as if I had been a hunter, and he some +peculiar animal that wanted killing right in the middle of it. But it +was some time before I was gratified with a sight of it. I did see it, +however, and I _was_ gratified. For when he wanted to throw away the +end of his cigar, finding his window immovable (the frosty wind that +bore the snow-flakes blowing from that side), and seeing that I opened +mine to accommodate him, he moved across, and, in so doing, knocked +his hat against the roof. As he displaced, to replace it, I had my +opportunity. It was a splendid forehead for size every way, but +chiefly for breadth. A kind of rugged calm rested upon it--a +suggestion of slumbering power, which it delighted me to contemplate. +I felt that that was the sort of man to make a friend of, if one had +the good luck to be able. But I did not yet make any advance towards +further acquaintance. + +My reader may, however, be desirous of knowing what kind of person is +making so much use of the pronoun _I_. He may have the same curiosity +to know his fellow-traveller over the region of these pages, that I +had to see the forehead of the clergyman. I can at least prevent any +further inconvenience from this possible curiosity, by telling him +enough to destroy his interest in me. + +I am an----; well, I suppose I _am_ an old bachelor; not very far from +fifty, in fact; old enough, at all events, to be able to take pleasure +in watching without sharing; yet ready, notwithstanding, when occasion +offers, to take any necessary part in what may be going on, I am able, +as it were, to sit quietly alone, and look down upon life from a +second-floor window, delighting myself with my own speculations, and +weaving the various threads I gather, into webs of varying kind and +quality. Yet, as I have already said in another form, I am not the +last to rush down stairs and into the street, upon occasion of an +accident or a row in it, or a conflagration next door. I may just +mention, too, that having many years ago formed the Swedenborgian +resolution of never growing old, I am as yet able to flatter myself +that I am likely to keep it. + +In proof of this, if further garrulity about myself can be pardoned, I +may state that every year, as Christmas approaches, I begin to grow +young again. At least I judge so from the fact that a strange, +mysterious pleasure, well known to me by this time, though little +understood and very varied, begins to glow in my mind with the first +hint, come from what quarter it may, whether from the church service, +or a bookseller's window, that the day of all the year is at hand--is +climbing up from the under-world. I enjoy it like a child. I buy the +Christmas number of every periodical I can lay my hands on, especially +those that have pictures in them; and although I am not very fond of +plum-pudding, I anticipate with satisfaction the roast beef and the +old port that ought always to accompany it. And above all things, I +delight in listening to stories, and sometimes in telling them. + +It amuses me to find what a welcome nobody I am amongst young people; +for they think I take no heed of them, and don't know what they are +doing; when, all the time, I even know what they are thinking. They +would wonder to know how often I feel exactly as they do; only I think +the feeling is a more earnest and beautiful thing to me than it can be +to them yet. If I see a child crowing in his mother's arms, I seem to +myself to remember making precisely the same noise in my mother's +arms. If I see a youth and a maiden looking into each other's eyes, I +know what it means perhaps better than they do. But I say nothing. I +do not even smile; for my face is puckered, and I have a weakness +about the eyes. But all this will be proof enough that I have not +grown very old, in any bad and to-be-avoided sense, at least. + +And now all the glow of the Christmas time was at its height in my +heart. For I was going to spend the Day, and a few weeks besides, with +a very old friend of mine, who lived near the town at which we were +about to arrive like a postscript.--Where could my companion be going? +I wanted to know, because I hoped to meet him again somehow or other. + +I ought to have told you, kind reader, that my name is Smith--actually +_John_ Smith; but I'm none the worse for that; and as I do not want to +be distinguished much from other people, I do not feel it a hardship. + +But where was my companion going? It could not be to my friend's; else +I should have known something about him. It could hardly be to the +clergyman's, because the vicarage was small, and there was a new +curate coming with his wife, whom it would probably have to +accommodate until their own house was ready. It could not be to the +lawyer's on the hill, because there all were from home on a visit to +their relations. It might be to Squire Vernon's, but he was the last +man likely to ask a clergyman to visit him; nor would a clergyman be +likely to find himself comfortable with the swearing old fox-hunter. +The question must, then, for the present, remain +unsettled.--So I left it, and, looking out of the window once more, +buried myself in Christmas fancies. + +It was now dark. We were the under half of the world. The sun was +scorching and glowing on the other side, leaving us to night and +frost. But the night and the frost wake the sunshine of a higher world +in our hearts; and who cares for winter weather at Christmas?--I +believe in the proximate correctness of the date of our Saviour's +birth. I believe he always comes in winter. And then let Winter reign +without: Love is king within; and Love is lord of the Winter. + +How the happy fires were glowing everywhere! We shot past many a +lighted cottage, and now and then a brilliant mansion. Inside both +were hearts like our own, and faces like ours, with the red coming out +on them, the red of joy, because it was Christmas. And most of them +had some little feast _toward_. Is it vulgar, this feasting at +Christmas? No. It is the Christmas feast that justifies all feasts, as +the bread and wine of the Communion are the essence of all bread and +wine, of all strength and rejoicing. If the Christianity of eating is +lost--I will not say _forgotten_--the true type of eating is to be +found at the dinner-hour in the Zoological Gardens. Certain I am, that +but for the love which, ever revealing itself, came out brightest at +that first Christmas time, there would be no feasting--nay no smiling; +no world to go careering in joy about its central fire; no men and +women upon it, to look up and rejoice. + +"But you always look on the bright side of things." + +No one spoke aloud; I heard the objection in my mind. Could it come +from the mind of my friend--for so I already counted him--opposite to +me? There was no need for that supposition--I had heard the objection +too often in my ears. And now I answered it in set, though unspoken +form. + +"Yes," I said, "I do; for I keep in the light as much as I can. Let +the old heathens count Darkness the womb of all things. I count Light +the older, from the tread of whose feet fell the first shadow--and +that was Darkness. Darkness exists but by the light, and for the +light." + +"But that is all mysticism. Look about you. The dark places of the +earth are the habitations of cruelty. Men and women blaspheme God and +die. How can this then be an hour for rejoicing?" + +"They are in God's hands. Take from me my rejoicing, and I am +powerless to help them. It shall not destroy the whole bright holiday +to me, that my father has given my brother a beating. It will do him +good. He needed it somehow.--He is looking after them." + +Could I have spoken some of these words aloud? For the eyes of the +clergyman were fixed upon me from his corner, as if he were trying to +put off his curiosity with the sop of a probable conjecture about me. + +"I fear he would think me a heathen," I said to myself. "But if ever +there was humanity in a countenance, there it is." + +It grew more and more pleasant to think of the bright fire and the +cheerful room that awaited me. Nor was the idea of the table, perhaps +already beginning to glitter with crystal and silver, altogether +uninteresting to me. For I was growing hungry. + +But the speed at which we were now going was quite comforting. I +dropped into a reverie. I was roused from it by the sudden ceasing of +the fierce oscillation, which had for some time been threatening to +make a jelly of us. We were loose. In three minutes more we should be +at Purleybridge. + +And in three minutes more, we were at Purleybridge--the only +passengers but one who arrived at the station that night. A servant +was waiting for me, and I followed him through the booking-office to +the carriage destined to bear me to _The Swanspond_, as my friend +Colonel Cathcart's house was called. + +As I stepped into the carriage, I saw the clergyman walk by, with his +carpet-bag in his hand. + +Now I knew Colonel Cathcart intimately enough to offer the use of his +carriage to my late companion; but at the moment I was about to +address him, the third passenger, of whom I had taken no particular +notice, came between us, and followed me into the carriage. This +occasioned a certain hesitation, with which I am only too easily +affected; the footman shut the door; I caught one glimpse of the +clergyman turning the corner of the station into a field-path; the +horses made a scramble; and away I rode to the Swanspond, feeling as +selfish as ten Pharisees. It is true, I had not spoken a word to him +beyond accepting his invitation to smoke with him; and yet I felt +almost sure that we should meet again, and that when we did, we should +both be glad of it. And now he was carrying a carpet-bag, and I was +seated in a carriage and pair! + +It was far too dark for me to see what my new companion was like; but +when the light from the colonel's hall-door flashed upon us as we drew +up, I saw that he was a young man, with a certain expression in his +face which a first glance might have taken for fearlessness and power +of some sort, but which notwithstanding, I felt to be rather repellent +than otherwise. The moment the carriage-door was opened, he called the +servant by his name, saying, + +"When the cart comes with the luggage, send mine up directly. Take +that now." + +And he handed him his dressing-bag. + +He spoke in a self-approving tone, and with a drawl which I will not +attempt to imitate, because I find all such imitation tends to +caricature; and I want to be believed. Besides, I find the production +of caricature has unfailingly a bad moral reaction upon myself. I +daresay it is not so with others, but with that I have nothing to do: +it is one of my weaknesses. + +My worthy old friend, the colonel, met us in the hall--straight, +broad-shouldered, and tall, with a severe military expression +underlying the genuine hospitality of his countenance, as if he could +not get rid of a sense of duty even when doing what he liked best. +The door of the dining-room was partly open, and from it came the red +glow of a splendid fire, the chink of encountering glass and metal, +and, best of all, the pop of a cork. + +"Would you like to go up-stairs, Smith, or will you have a glass of +wine first?--How do you do, Percy?" + +"Thank you; I'll go to my room at once," I said. + +"You'll find a fire there, I know. Having no regiment now, I look +after my servants. Mind you make use of them. I can't find enough of +work for them." + +He left me, and again addressed the youth, who had by this time got +out of his great-coat, and, cold as it was, stood looking at his hands +by the hall-lamp. As I moved away, I heard him say, in a careless +tone, + +"And how's Adela, uncle?" + +The reply did not reach me, but I knew now who the young fellow was. + +Hearing a kind of human grunt behind me, I turned and saw that I was +followed by the butler; and, by a kind of intuition, I knew that this +grunt was a remark, an inarticulate one, true, but not the less to the +point on that account. I knew that he had been in the dining-room by +the pop I had heard; and I knew by the grunt that he had heard his +master's observation about his servants. + +"Come, Beeves," I said, "I don't want your help. You've got plenty to +do, you know, at dinner-time; and your master is rather hard upon +you--isn't he?" + +I knew the man, of course. + +"Well, Mr. Smith, master is the best master in the country, _he +is_. But he don't know what work is, _he don't_." + +"Well, go to your work, and never mind me. I know every turn in the +house as well as yourself, Beeves." + +"No, Mr. Smith; I'll attend to you, if _you_ please. Mr. Percy will +take care of _his_-self. There's no fear of him. But you're my +business. You are sure to give a man a kind word who does his best to +please you." + +"Why, Beeves, I think that is the least a man can do." + +"It's the most too, sir; and some people think it's too much." + +I saw that the man was hurt, and sought to soothe him. + +"You and I are old friends, at least, Beeves." + +"Yes, Mr. Smith. Money won't do't, sir. My master gives good wages, +and I'm quite independing of visitors. But when a gentleman says to +me, 'Beeves, I'm obliged to you,' why then, Mr. Smith, you feels at +one _and_ the same time, that he's a gentleman, and that you aint a +boot-jack or a coal-scuttle. It's the sentiman, Mr. Smith. If he +despises us, why, we despises him. And we don't like waiting on a +gentleman as aint a gentleman. Ring the bell, Mr. Smith, when you want +anythink, and _I'll_ attend to you." + +He had been twenty years in the colonel's service. He was not an old +soldier, yet had a thorough _esprit de corps_, looking, upon service +as an honourable profession. In this he was not only right, but had a +vast advantage over everybody whose profession is not sufficiently +honourable for his ambition. All such must _feel_ degraded. Beeves was +fifty; and, happily for his opinion of his profession, had never been +to London. + +And the colonel was the best of masters; for because he ruled well, +every word of kindness told. It is with servants as with children and +with horses--it is of no use caressing them unless they know that you +mean them to go. + +When the dinner-bell rang, I proceeded to the drawing-room. The +colonel was there, and I thought for a moment that he was alone. But I +soon saw that a couch by the fire was occupied by his daughter, the +Adela after whose health I had heard young Percy Cathcart inquiring. +She was our hostess, for Mrs. Cathcart had been dead for many years, +and Adela had been her only child. I approached to pay my respects, +but as soon as I got near enough to see her face, I turned +involuntarily to her father, and said, + +"Cathcart, you never told me of this!" + +He made me no reply; but I saw the long stern upper lip twitching +convulsively. I turned again to Adela, who tried to smile--with +precisely the effect of a momentary gleam of sunshine upon a cold, +leafless, and wet landscape. + +"Adela, my dear, what is the matter?" + +"I don't know, uncle." + +She had called me uncle, since ever she had begun to speak, which must +have been nearly twenty years ago. + +I stood and looked at her. Her face was pale and thin, and her eyes +were large, and yet sleepy. I may say at once that she had dark eyes +and a sweet face; and that is all the description I mean to give of +her. I had been accustomed to see that face, if not rosy, yet plump +and healthy; and those eyes with plenty of light for themselves, and +some to spare for other people. But it was neither her wan look nor +her dull eyes that distressed me: it was the expression of her +face. It was very sad to look at; but it was not so much sadness as +utter and careless hopelessness that it expressed. + +"Have you any pain, Adela?" I asked. + +"No," she answered. + +"But you feel ill?" + +"Yes." + +"How?" + +"I don't know." + +And as she spoke, she tapped with one finger on the edge of the +_couvre-pied_ which was thrown over her, and gave a sigh as if her +very heart was weary of everything. + +"Shall you come down to dinner with us?" + +"Yes, uncle; I suppose I must." + +"If you would rather have your dinner sent up, my love--" began her +father. + +"Oh! no. It is all the same to me. I may as well go down." + +My young companion of the carriage now entered, got up expensively. +He, too, looked shocked when he saw her. + +"Why, Addie!" he said. + +But she received him with perfect indifference, just lifting one cold +hand towards his, and then letting it fall again where it had lain +before. Percy looked a little mortified; in fact, more mortified now +than sorry; turned away, and stared at the fire. + +Every time I open my mouth in a drawing-room before dinner, I am aware +of an amount of self-denial worthy of a forlorn hope. Yet the silence +was so awkward now, that I felt I must make an effort to say +something; and the more original the remark the better I felt it would +be for us all. But, with the best intentions, all I could effect was +to turn towards Mr. Percy and say, + +"Rather cold for travelling, is it not?" + +"Those foot-warmers are capital things, though," he answered. "Mine +was jolly hot. Might have roasted a potato on it, by Jove!" + +"I came in a second-class carriage," I replied; "and they are too cold +to need a foot-warmer." + +He gave a shrug with his shoulders, as if he had suddenly found +himself in low company, and must make the best of it. But he offered +no further remark. + +Beeves announced dinner. + +"Will you take Adela, Mr. Smith?" said the colonel. + +"I think I won't go, after all, papa, if you don't mind. I don't want +any dinner." + +"Very well, my dear," began her father, but could not help showing his +distress; perceiving which, Adela rose instantly from her couch, put +her arm in his, and led the way to the dining-room. Percy and I +followed. + +"What can be the matter with the girl?" thought I. "She used to be +merry enough. Some love affair, I shouldn't wonder. I've never heard +of any. I know her father favours that puppy Percy; but I don't think +she is dying for _him_." + +It was the dreariest Christmas Eve I had ever spent. The fire was +bright; the dishes were excellent; the wine was thorough; the host was +hospitable; the servants were attentive; and yet the dinner was as +gloomy as if we had all known it to be the last we should ever eat +together. If a ghost had been sitting in its shroud at the head of the +table, instead of Adela, it could hardly have cast a greater chill +over the guests. She did her duty well enough; but she did not look +it; and the charities which occasioned her no pleasure in the +administration, could hardly occasion us much in the reception. + +As soon as she had left the room, Percy broke out, with more emphasis +than politeness: + +"What the devil's the matter with Adela, uncle?" + +"Indeed, I can't tell, my boy," answered the colonel, with more +kindness than the form of the question deserved. + +"Have you no conjecture on the subject?" I asked. + +"None. I have tried hard to find out; but I have altogether failed. +She tells me there is nothing the matter with her, only she is so +tired. What has she to tire her?" + +"If she is tired inside first, everything will tire her." + +"I wish you would try to find out, Smith." + +"I will." + +"Her mother died of a decline." + +"I know. Have you had no advice?" + +"Oh, yes! Dr. Wade is giving her steel-wine, and quinine, and all that +sort of thing. For my part, I don't believe in their medicines. +Certainly they don't do her any good." + +"Is her chest affected--does he say?" + +"He says not; but I believe he knows no more about the state of her +chest than he does about the other side of the moon. He's a stupid old +fool. He comes here for his fees, and he has them." + +"Why don't you call in another, if you are not satisfied?" + +"Why, my dear fellow, they're all the same in this infernal old +place. I believe they've all embalmed themselves, and are going by +clockwork. They and the clergy make sad fools of us. But we make worse +fools of ourselves to have them about us. To be sure, they see that +everything is proper. The doctor makes sure that we are dead before we +are buried, and the parson that we are buried after we are dead. About +the resurrection I suspect he knows as much as we do. He goes by +book." + +In his perplexity and sorrow, the poor colonel was irritable and +unjust. I saw that it would be better to suggest than to reason. And I +partly took the homoeopathic system--the only one on which mental +distress, at least, can be treated with any advantage. + +"Certainly," I said, "the medical profession has plenty of men in it +who live on humanity, like the very diseases they attempt to cure. And +plenty of the clergy find the Church a tolerably profitable +investment. The reading of the absolution is as productive to them +now, as it was to the pardon-sellers of old. But surely, colonel, you +won't huddle them all up together in one shapeless mass of +condemnation?" + +"You always were right, Smith, and I'm a fool, as usual.--Percy, my +boy, what's going on at Somerset House?" + +"The river, uncle." + +"Nothing else?" + +"Well--I don't know. Nothing much. It's horribly slow!" + +"I'm afraid you won't find this much better. But you must take care of +yourself." + +"I've made that a branch of special study, uncle. I flatter myself I +_can_ do that." + +Colonel Cathcart laughed. Percy was the son of his only brother, who +had died young, and he had an especial affection for him. And where +the honest old man loved, he could see no harm; for he reasoned +something in this way: "He must be all right, or how could I like him +as I do?" But Percy was a common-place, selfish fellow--of that I was +convinced--whatever his other qualities, good or bad, might be; and I +sincerely hoped that any designs he might have of marrying his cousin, +might prove as vain as his late infantile passion for the moon. For I +beg to assure my readers that the circumstances in which I have +introduced Adela Cathcart, are no more fair to her real character, +than my lady readers would consider the effect of a lamp-shade of +bottle-green true in its presentation of their complexion. + +We did not sit long over our wine. When we went up to the +drawing-room, Adela was not there, nor did she make her appearance +again that evening. For a little while we tried to talk; but, after +many failures, I yielded and withdrew on the score of fatigue; no +doubt relieving the mind of my old friend by doing so, for he had +severe ideas of the duty of a host as well as of a soldier, and to +these ideas he found it at present impossible to elevate the tone of +his behaviour. + +When I reached my own room, I threw myself into the easiest of +arm-chairs, and began to reflect. + +"John Smith," I said, "this is likely to be as uncomfortable a +Christmas-tide, as you, with your all but ubiquity, have ever had the +opportunity of passing. Nevertheless, please to remember a resolution +you came to once upon a time, that, as you were nobody, so you would +be nobody; and see if you can make yourself useful.--What can be the +matter with Adela?" + +I sat and reflected for a long time; for during my life I had had many +opportunities of observation, and amongst other cases that had +interested me, I had seen some not unlike the present. The fact was +that, as everybody counted me nobody, I had taken full advantage of my +conceded nonentity, which, like Jack the Giant-killer's coat of +darkness, enabled me to learn much that would otherwise have escaped +me. My reflections on my observations, however, did not lead me to any +further or more practical conclusion just yet, than that other and +better advice ought to be called in. + +Having administered this sedative sop to my restless practicalness, +I went to bed and to sleep. + + + +Chapter II. + +Church. + + +Adela did not make her appearance at the breakfast-table next morning, +although it was the morning of Christmas Day. And no one who had seen +her at dinner on Christmas Eve, would have expected to see her at +breakfast on Christmas-morn. Yet although her absence was rather a +relief, such a gloom occupied her place, that our party was anything +but cheerful. But the world about us was happy enough, not merely at +its unseen heart of fire, but on its wintered countenance--evidently +to all men. It was not "to hide her guilty front," as Milton says, in +the first two--and the least worthy--stanzas on the Nativity, that the +earth wooed the gentle air for innocent snow, but to put on the best +smile and the loveliest dress that the cold time and her suffering +state would allow, in welcome of the Lord of the snow and the +summer. I thought of the lines from Crashaw's _Hymn of the +Nativity_--Crashaw, who always suggested to me Shelley turned a +Catholic Priest: + + "I saw the curled drops, soft and slow, + Come hovering o'er the place's head, + Offering their whitest sheets of snow, + To furnish the fair infant's bed. + Forbear, said I, be not too bold: + Your fleece is white, but 'tis too cold." + +And as the sun shone rosy with mist, I naturally thought of the next +following stanza of the same hymn: + + "I saw the obsequious seraphim + Their rosy fleece of fire bestow; + For well they now can spare their wings, + Since Heaven itself lies here below. + Well done! said I; but are you sure + Your down, so warm, will pass for pure?" + +Adela, pale face and all, was down in time for church; and she and the +colonel and I walked to it together by the meadow path, where, on each +side, the green grass was peeping up through the glittering frost. For +the colonel, notwithstanding his last night's outbreak upon the +clergy, had a profound respect for them, and considered church-going +one of those military duties which belonged to every honest soldier +and gentleman. Percy had found employment elsewhere. + +It was a blessed little church that, standing in a little meadow +church-yard, with a low strong ancient tower, and great buttresses +that put one in mind of the rock of ages, and a mighty still river +that flowed past the tower end, and a picturesque, straggling, +well-to-do parsonage at the chancel end. The church was nearly covered +with ivy, and looked as if it had grown out of the churchyard, to be +ready for the poor folks, as soon as they got up again, to praise God +in. But it had stood a long time, and none of them came, and the +praise of the living must be a poor thing to the praise of the dead, +notwithstanding all that the Psalmist says. So the church got +disheartened, and drooped, and now looked very old and grey-headed. It +could not get itself filled with praise enough.--And into this old, +and quaint, and weary but stout-hearted church, we went that bright +winter morning, to hear about a baby. My heart was full enough before +I left it. + +Old Mr. Venables read the service with a voice and manner far more +memorial of departed dinners than of joys to come; but I sat--little +heeding the service, I confess--with my mind full of thoughts that +made me glad. + +Now all my glad thoughts came to me through a hole in the +tower-door. For the door was far in a shadowy retreat, and in the +irregular lozenge-shaped hole in it, there was a piece of coarse thick +glass of a deep yellow. And through this yellow glass the sun +shone. And the cold shine of the winter sun was changed into the warm +glory of summer by the magic of that bit of glass. + +Now when I saw the glow first, I thought without thinking, that it +came from some inner place, some shrine of old, or some ancient tomb +in the chancel of the church--forgetting the points of the +compass--where one might pray as in the _penetralia_ of the temple; +and I gazed on it as the pilgrim might gaze upon the lamp-light oozing +from the cavern of the Holy Sepulchre. But some one opened the door, +and the clear light of the Christmas morn broke upon the pavement, and +swept away the summer splendour.--The door was to the outside.--And I +said to myself: All the doors that lead inwards to the secret place of +the Most High, are doors outwards--out of self--out of smallness--out +of wrong. And these were some of the thoughts that came to me through +the hole in the door, and made me forget the service, which +Mr. Venables mumbled like a nicely cooked sweetbread. + +But another voice broke the film that shrouded the ears of my brain, +and the words became inspired and alive, and I forgot my own thoughts +in listening to the Holy Book. For is not the voice of every loving +spirit a fresh inspiration to the dead letter? With a voice other than +this, does it not kill? And I thought I had heard the voice before, +but where I sat I could not see the Communion Table.--At length the +preacher ascended the pulpit stairs, and, to my delight and the +rousing of an altogether unwonted expectation, who should it be but my +fellow-traveller of last night! + +He had a look of having something to say; and I immediately felt that +I had something to hear. Having read his text, which I forget, the +broad-browed man began with something like this: + +"It is not the high summer alone that is God's. The winter also is +His. And into His winter He came to visit us. And all man's winters +are His--the winter of our poverty, the winter of our sorrow, the +winter of our unhappiness--even 'the winter of our discontent.'" + +I stole a glance at Adela. Her large eyes were fixed on the preacher. + +"Winter," he went on, "does not belong to death, although the outside +of it looks like death. Beneath the snow, the grass is growing. Below +the frost, the roots are warm and alive. Winter is only a spring too +weak and feeble for us to see that it is living. The cold does for all +things what the gardener has sometimes to do for valuable trees: he +must half kill them before they will bear any fruit. Winter is in +truth the small beginnings of the spring." + +I glanced at Adela again; and still her eyes were fastened on the +speaker. + +"The winter is the childhood of the year. Into this childhood of the +year came the child Jesus; and into this childhood of the year must we +all descend. It is as if God spoke to each of us according to our +need: My son, my daughter, you are growing old and cunning; you must +grow a child again, with my son, this blessed birth-time. You are +growing old and selfish; you must become a child. You are growing old +and careful; you must become a child. You are growing old and +distrustful; you must become a child. You are growing old and petty, +and weak, and foolish; you must become a child--my child, like the +baby there, that strong sunrise of faith and hope and love, lying in +his mother's arms in the stable. + +"But one may say to me: 'You are talking in a dream. The Son of God is +a child no longer. He is the King of Heaven.' True, my friends. But He +who is the Unchangeable, could never become anything that He was not +always, for that would be to change. He is as much a child now as ever +he was. When he became a child, it was only to show us by itself, that +we might understand it better, what he was always in his deepest +nature. And when he was a child, he was not less the King of Heaven; +for it is in virtue of his childhood, of his sonship, that he is Lord +of Heaven and of Earth--'for of such'--namely, of children--'is the +kingdom of heaven.' And, therefore, when we think of the baby now, it +is still of the Son of man, of the King of men, that we think. And all +the feelings that the thought of that babe can wake in us, are as true +now as they were on that first Christmas day, when Mary covered from +the cold his little naked feet, ere long to be washed with the tears +of repentant women, and nailed by the hands of thoughtless men, who +knew not what they did, to the cross of fainting, and desolation, and +death." + +Adela was hiding her face now. + +"So, my friends, let us be children this Christmas. Of course, when I +say to anyone, 'You must be like a child,' I mean a good child. A +naughty child is not a child as long as his naughtiness lasts. He is +not what God meant when He said, 'I will make a child.' Think of the +best child you know--the one who has filled you with most +admiration. It is his child-likeness that has so delighted you. It is +because he is so true to the child-nature that you admire him. Jesus +is like that child. You must be like that child. But you cannot help +knowing some faults in him--some things that are like ill-grown men +and women. Jesus is not like him, there. Think of the best child you +can imagine; nay, think of a better than you can imagine--of the one +that God thinks of when he invents a child in the depth of his +fatherhood: such child-like men and women must you one day become; and +what day better to begin, than this blessed Christmas Morn? Let such a +child be born in your hearts this day. Take the child Jesus to your +bosoms, into your very souls, and let him grow there till he is one +with your every thought, and purpose, and hope. As a good child born +in a family will make the family good; so Jesus, born into the world, +will make the world good at last. And this perfect child, born in your +hearts, will make your hearts good; and that is God's best gift to +you. + +"Then be happy this Christmas Day; for to you a child is born. +Childless women, this infant is yours--wives or maidens. Fathers and +mothers, he is your first-born, and he will save his brethren. Eat and +drink, and be merry and kind, for the love of God is the source of all +joy and all good things, and this love is present in the child +Jesus.--Now, to God the Father, &c." + +"O my baby Lord!" I said in my heart; for the clergyman had forgotten +me, and said nothing about us old bachelors. + +Of course this is but the substance of the sermon; and as, although I +came to know him well before many days were over, he never lent me his +manuscript--indeed, I doubt if he had any--my report must have lost +something of his nervous strength, and be diluted with the weakness of +my style. + +Although I had been attending so well to the sermon, however, my eyes +had now and then wandered, not only to Adela's face, but all over the +church as well; and I could not help observing, a few pillars off, and +partly round a corner, the face of a young man--well, he was about +thirty, I should guess--out of which looked a pair of well-opened +hazel eyes, with rather notable eyelashes. Not that I, with my own +weak pair of washed-out grey, could see the eyelashes at that +distance, but I judged it must be their length that gave a kind of +feminine cast to the outline of the eyes. Nor should I have noticed +the face itself much, had it not seemed to me that those eyes were +pursuing a very thievish course; for, by the fact that, as often as I +looked their way, I saw the motion of their withdrawal, I concluded +that they were stealing glances at, certainly not from, my adopted +niece, Adela. This made me look at the face more attentively. I found +it a fine, frank, brown, country-looking face.--Could it have anything +to do with Adela's condition? Absurd! How could such health and ruddy +life have anything to do with the worn pallor of her countenance? Nor +did a single glance on the part of Adela reveal that she was aware of +the existence of the neighbouring observatory. I dismissed the +idea. And I was right, as time showed. + +We remained to the Communion. When that was over, we walked out of the +old dark-roofed church, Adela looking as sad as ever, into the bright +cold sunshine, which wrought no change on her demeanour. How could it, +if the sun of righteousness, even, had failed for the time? And there, +in the churchyard, we found Percy, standing astride of an infant's +grave, with his hands in his trowser-pockets, and an air of +condescending satisfaction on his countenance, which seemed to say to +the dead beneath him: + +"Pray, don't apologize. I know you are disagreeable; but you can't +help it, you know;" + +--and to the living coming out of church: + +"Well, have you had your little whim out?" + +But what he did say, was to Adela: + +"A merry Christmas to you, Addie! Won't you lean on me? You don't look +very stunning." + +But her sole answer was to take my arm; and so we walked towards the +Swanspond. + +"I suppose that's what they call _Broad Church,_" said the colonel. + +"Generally speaking, I prefer breadth," I answered, vaguely. "Do you +think that's _Broad Church?_" + +"Oh! I don't know. I suppose it's all right. He ran me through, +anyhow." + +"I hope it _is_ all right," I answered. "It suits me." + +"Well, I'm sure you know ten times better than I do. He seems a right +sort of man, whatever sort of clergyman he may be." + +"Who is he--can you tell me?" + +"Why, don't you know? That's our new curate, Mr. Armstrong." + +"Curate!" I exclaimed. "A man like that! And at his years too! He must +be forty. You astonish me!" + +"Well, I don't know. He may be forty. He is our curate; that is all I +can answer for." + +"He was my companion in the train last night." + +"Ah! that accounts for it. You had some talk with him, and found him +out? I believe he is a superior sort of man, too. Old Mr. Venables +seems to like him." + +"All the talk I have had with him passed between pulpit and pew this +morning," I replied; "for the only words that we exchanged last night +were, 'Will you join me in a cigar?' from him, and 'With much +pleasure,' from me." + +"Then, upon my life, I can't see what you think remarkable in his +being a curate. Though I confess, as I said before, he ran me through +the body. I'm rather soft-hearted, I believe, since Addie's illness." + +He gave her a hasty glance. But she took no notice of what he had +said; and, indeed, seemed to have taken no notice of the +conversation--to which Percy had shown an equal amount of +indifference. A very different indifference seemed the only bond +between them. + +When we reached home, we found lunch ready for us, and after waiting a +few minutes for Adela, but in vain, we seated ourselves at the table. + +"Awfully like Sunday, and a cold dinner, uncle!" remarked Percy. + +"We'll make up for that, my boy, when dinner-time comes." + +"You don't like Sunday, then, Mr. Percy?" I said. + +"A horrid bore," he answered. "My old mother made me hate it. We had +to go to church twice; and that was even worse than her veal-broth. +But the worst of it is, I can't get it out of my head that I ought to +be there, even when I'm driving tandem to Richmond." + +"Ah! your mother will be with us on Sunday, I hope, Percy." + +"Good heavens, uncle! Do you know what you are about? My mother here! +I'll just ring the bell, and tell James to pack my traps. I won't +stand it. I can't. Indeed I can't." + +He rose as he spoke. His uncle caught him by the arm, laughing, and +made him sit down again; which he did with real or pretended +reluctance. + +"We'll take care of you, Percy. Never mind.--Don't be a fool," he +added, seeing the evident annoyance of the young fellow. + +"Well, uncle, you ought to have known better," said Percy, sulkily, +as, yielding, he resumed his seat, and poured himself out a bumper of +claret, by way of consolation. + +He had not been much of a companion before: now he made himself almost +as unpleasant as a young man could be, and that is saying a great +deal. One, certainly, had need to have found something beautiful at +church, for here was the prospect of as wretched a Christmas dinner as +one could ever wish to avoid. + +When Percy had drunk another bumper of claret, he rose and left the +room; and my host, turning to me, said: + +"I fear, Smith, you will have anything but a merry Christmas, this +year. I hoped the sight of you would cheer up poor Adela, and set us +all right. And now Percy's out of humour at the thought of his mother +coming, and I'm sure I don't know what's to be done. We shall sit over +our dinner to-day like four crows over a carcass. It's very good of +you to stop." + +"Oh! never mind me," I said. "I, too, can take care of myself. But has +Adela no companions of her own age?" + +"None but Percy. And I am afraid she has got tired of him. He's a good +fellow, though a bit of a puppy. That'll wear off. I wish he would +take a fancy to the army, now." + +I made no reply, but I thought the more. It seemed to me that to get +tired of Percy was the most natural proceeding that could be adopted +with regard to him and all about him. + +But men judge men--and women, women--hardly. + +"I'll tell you what I will do," said the colonel. "I will ask Mr. +Bloomfield, the schoolmaster, and his wife, to dine with us. It's no +use asking anybody else that I can think of. But they have no family, +and I dare say they can put off their own Christmas dinner till +to-morrow. They have but one maid, and she can dine with our +servants. They are very respectable people, I assure you." + +The colonel always considered his plans thoroughly, and then acted on +them at once. He rose. + +"A capital idea!" I said, as he disappeared. I went up to look for +Adela. She was not in the drawing-room. I went up again, and tapped at +the door of her room. + +"Come in," she said, in a listless voice. + +I entered. + +"How are you now, Adela?" I asked. + +"Thank you, uncle," was all her reply. + +"What is the matter with you, my child?" I said, and drew a chair near +hers. She was half reclining, with a book lying upside down on her +knee. + +"I would tell you at once, uncle, if I knew," she answered very +sweetly, but as sadly. "I believe I am dying; but of what I have not +the smallest idea." + +"Nonsense!" I said. "You're not dying." + +"You need not think to comfort me that way, uncle; for I think I would +rather die than not." + +"Is there anything you would like?" + +"Nothing. There is nothing worth liking, but sleep." + +"Don't you sleep at night?" + +"Not well.--I will tell you all I know about it.--Some six weeks ago, +I woke suddenly one morning, very early--I think about three +o'clock--with an overpowering sense of blackness and misery. +Everything I thought of seemed to have a core of wretchedness in it. I +fought with the feeling as well as I could, and got to sleep again. +But the effect of it did not leave me next day. I said to myself: +'They say "morning thoughts are true." What if this should be the true +way of looking at things?' And everything became grey and dismal about +me. Next morning it was just the same. It was as if I had waked in the +middle of some chaos over which God had never said: 'Let there be +light.' And the next day was worse. I began to see the bad in +everything--wrong motives--and self-love--and pretence, and everything +mean and low. And so it has gone on ever since. I wake wretched every +morning. I am crowded with wretched, if not wicked thoughts, all day. +Nothing seems worth anything. I don't care for anything." + +"But you love somebody?" + +"I hope I love my father. I don't know. I don't feel as if I did." + +"And there's your cousin Percy." I confess this was a feeler I put +out. + +"Percy's a fool!" she said, with some show of indignation, which I +hailed, for more reasons than one. + +"But you enjoyed the sermon this morning, did you not?" + +"I don't know. I thought it very poetical and very pretty; but whether +it was true--how could I tell? I didn't care. The baby he spoke about +was nothing to me. I didn't love him, or want to hear about him. Don't +you think me a brute, uncle?" + +"No, I don't. I think you are ill. And I think we shall find something +that will do you good; but I can't tell yet what. You will dine with +us, won't you?" + +"Oh! yes, if you and papa wish it." + +"Of course we do. He is just gone to ask Mr. and Mrs. Bloomfield to +dine with us." + +"Oh!" + +"You don't mind, do you?" + +"Oh! no. They are nice people. I like them both." + +"Well, I will leave you, my child. Sleep if you can. I will go and +walk in the garden, and think what can be done for my little girl." + +"Thank you, uncle. But you can't do me any good. What if this should +be the true way of things? It is better to know it, if it is." + +"Disease couldn't make a sun in the heavens. But it could make a man +blind, that he could not see it." + +"I don't understand you." + +"Never mind. It's of no consequence whether you do or not. When you +see light again, you will believe in it. For light compels faith." + +"I believe in you, uncle; I do." + +"Thank you, my dear. Good-bye." + +I went round by the stables, and there found the colonel, talking to +his groom. He had returned already from his call, and the Bloomfields +were coming. I met Percy next, sauntering about, with a huge cigar in +his mouth. + +"The Bloomfields are coming to dinner, Mr. Percy," I said. + +"Who are they?" + +"The schoolmaster and his wife." + +"Just like that precious old uncle of mine! Why the deuce did he ask +_me_ this Christmas? I tell you what, Mr. Smith--I can't stand +it. There's nothing, not even cards, to amuse a fellow. And when my +mother comes, it will be ten times worse. I'll cut and run for it." + +"Oh! no, you won't," I said. But I heartily wished he would. I confess +the insincerity, and am sorry for it. + +"But what the devil does my mother want, coming here?" + +"I haven't the pleasure of knowing your mother, so I cannot tell what +the devil she can want, coming here." + +"Humph!" + +He walked away. + + + +Chapter III. + +The Christmas dinner. + + +Mr. and Mrs. Bloomfield arrived; the former a benevolent, grey-haired +man, with a large nose and small mouth, yet with nothing of the +foolish look which often accompanies such a malconformation; and the +latter a nice-looking little body, middle-aged, rather more; with +half-grey curls, and a cap with black ribbons. Indeed, they were both +in mourning. Mr. Bloomfield bore himself with a kind of unworldly +grace, and Mrs. Bloomfield with a kind of sweet primness. The +schoolmaster was inclined to be talkative; nor was his wife behind +him; and that was just what we wanted. + +"I am sorry to see you in mourning," said the colonel to Mr. +Bloomfield, during dessert. "I trust it is for no near relative." + +"No relative at all, sir. But a boy of mine, to whom, through God's +grace, I did a good turn once, and whom, as a consequence, I loved +ever after." + +"Tell Colonel Cathcart the story, James," said his wife. "It can do no +harm to anybody now; and you needn't mention names, you know. You +would like to hear it, wouldn't you, sir?" + +"Very much indeed," answered the colonel. + +"Well, sir," began the schoolmaster, "there's not much in it to you, I +fear; though there was a good deal to him and me. I was usher in a +school at Peckham once. I was but a lad, but I tried to do my duty; +and the first part of my duty seemed to me, to take care of the +characters of the boys. So I tried to understand them all, and their +ways of looking at things, and thinking about them. + +"One day, to the horror of the masters, it was discovered that a watch +belonging to one of the boys had been stolen. The boy who had lost it +was making a dreadful fuss about it, and declaring he would tell the +police, and set them to find it. The moment I heard of it, my +suspicion fell, half by knowledge, half by instinct, upon a certain +boy. He was one of the most gentlemanly boys in the school; but there +was a look of cunning in the corner of his eye, and a look of greed in +the corner of his mouth, which now and then came out clear enough to +me. Well, sir, I pondered for a few moments what I should do. I wanted +to avoid calling any attention to him; so I contrived to make the +worst of him in the Latin class--he was not a bad scholar--and so keep +him in when the rest went to play. As soon as they were gone, I took +him into my own room, and said to him, 'Fred, my boy, you knew your +lesson well enough; but I wanted you here. You stole Simmons's +watch.'" + +"You had better mention no names, Mr. Bloomfield," interrupted his +wife. + +"I beg your pardon, my dear. But it doesn't matter. Simmons was eaten +by a tiger, ten years ago. And I hope he agreed with him, for he never +did with anybody else I ever heard of. He was the worst boy I ever +knew.--'You stole Simmons's watch. Where is it?' He fell on his knees, +as white as a sheet. 'I sold it,' he said, in a voice choked with +terror. 'God help you, my boy!' I exclaimed. He burst out crying. +'Where did you sell it?' He told me. 'Where's the money you got for +it?' 'That's all I have left,' he answered, pulling out a small +handful of shillings and halfcrowns. 'Give it me,' I said. He gave it +me at once. 'Now you go to your lesson, and hold your tongue.' I got a +sovereign of my own to make up the sum--I could ill spare it, sir, but +the boy could worse spare his character--and I hurried off to the +place where he had sold the watch. To avoid scandal, I was forced to +pay the man the whole price, though I daresay an older man would have +managed better. At all events, I brought it home. I contrived to put +it in the boy's own box, so that the whole affair should appear to +have been only a trick, and then I gave the culprit a very serious +talking-to. He never did anything of the sort again, and died an +honourable man and a good officer, only three months ago, in India. A +thousand times over did he repay me the money I had spent for him, and +he left me this gold watch in his will--a memorial, not so much of his +fault, as of his deliverance from some of its natural consequences." + +The schoolmaster pulled out the watch as he spoke, and we all looked +at it with respect. + +It was a simple story and simply told. But I was pleased to see that +Adela took some interest in it. I remembered that, as a child, she had +always liked better to be told a story than to have any other +amusement whatever. And many a story I had had to coin on the spur of +the moment for the satisfaction of her childish avidity for that kind +of mental bull's-eye. + +When we gentlemen were left alone, and the servants had withdrawn, +Mr. Bloomfield said to our host: + +"I am sorry to see Miss Cathcart looking so far from well, colonel. I +hope you have good advice for her." + +"Dr. Wade has been attending her for some time, but I don't think he's +doing her any good." + +"Don't you think it might be well to get the new doctor to see her? +He's quite a remarkable man, I assure you." + +"What! The young fellow that goes flying about the country in boots +and breeches?" + +"Well, I suppose that is the man I mean. He's not so very young +though--he's thirty at least. And for the boots and breeches--I asked +him once, in a joking way, whether he did not think them rather +unprofessional. But he told me he saved ever so much time in open +weather by going across the country. 'And,' said he, 'if I can see +patients sooner, and more of them, in that way, I think it is quite +professional. The other day,' he said, 'I was sent for, and I went +straight as the crow flies, and I beat a little baby only by five +minutes after all.' Of course after that there was nothing more to +say." + +"He has very queer notions, hasn't he?" + +"Yes, he has, for a medical man. He goes to church, for instance." + +"I don't count that a fault." + +"Well, neither do I. Rather the contrary. But one of the profession +here says it is for the sake of being called out in the middle of the +service." + +"Oh! that is stale. I don't think he would find that answer. But it is +a pity he is not married." + +"So it is. I wish he were. But that is a fault that may be remedied +some day. One thing I know about him is, that when I called him in to +see one of my boarders, he sat by his bedside half an hour, watching +him, and then went away without giving him any medicine." + +"I don't see the good of that. What do you make of that? I call it +very odd." + +"He said to me: 'I am not sure what is the matter with him. A wrong +medicine would do him more harm than the right one would do him +good. Meantime he is in no danger. I will come and see him to-morrow +morning.' Now I liked that, because it showed me that he was thinking +over the case. The boy was well in two days. Not that that indicates +much. All I say is, he is not a common man." + +"I don't like to dismiss Dr. Wade." + +"No; but you must not stand on ceremony, if he is doing her no good. +You are judge enough of that." + +I thought it best to say nothing; but I heartily approved of all the +honest gentleman said; and I meant to use my persuasion afterwards, if +necessary, to the same end; for I liked all he told about the new +doctor. I asked his name. + +"Mr. Armstrong," answered the schoolmaster. + +"Armstrong--" I repeated. "Is not that the name of the new curate?" + +"To be sure. They are brothers. Henry, the doctor, is considerably +younger than the curate." + +"Did the curate seek the appointment because the doctor was here +before him?" + +"I suppose so. They are much attached to each other." + +"If he is at all equal as a doctor to what I think his brother is as a +preacher, Purleybridge is a happy place to possess two such healers," +I said. + +"Well, time will show," returned Mr. Bloomfield. + +All this time Percy sat yawning, and drinking claret. When we joined +the ladies, we found them engaged in a little gentle chat. There was +something about Mrs. Bloomfield that was very pleasing. The chief +ingredient in it was a certain quaint repose. She looked as if her +heart were at rest; as if for her everything, was right; as if she had +a little room of her own, just to her mind, and there her soul sat, +looking out through the muslin curtains of modest charity, upon the +world that went hurrying and seething past her windows. When we +entered-- + +"I was just beginning to tell Miss Cathcart," she said, "a curious +history that came under my notice once. I don't know if I ought +though, for it is rather sad." + +"Oh! I like sad stories," said Adela. + +"Well, there isn't much of romance in it either, but I will cut it +short now the gentlemen are come. I knew the lady. She had been +married some years. And report said her husband was not overkind to +her. All at once she disappeared, and her husband thought the worst of +her. Knowing her as well as I did, I did not believe a word of it. Yet +it was strange that she had left her baby, her only child, of a few +months, as well as her husband. I went to see her mother directly I +heard of it, and together we went to the police; and such a search as +we had! We traced her to a wretched lodging, where she had been for +two nights, but they did not know what had become of her. In fact, +they had turned her out because she had no money. Some information +that we had, made us go to a house near Hyde Park. We rang the +bell. Who should open the door, in a neat cap and print-gown, but the +poor lady herself! She fainted when she saw her mother. And then the +whole story came out. Her husband was stingy, and only allowed her +very small sum for housekeeping; and perhaps she was not a very good +manager, for good management is a gift, and everybody has not got +it. So she found that she could not clear off the butcher's bills on +the sum allowed her; and she had let the debt gather and gather, till +the thought of it, I believe, actually drove her out of her mind for +the time. She dared not tell her husband; but she knew it must come +out some day, and so at last, quite frantic with the thought of it, +she ran away, and left her baby behind her." + +"And what became of her?" asked Adela. + +"Her husband would never hear a word in her favour. He laughed at her +story in the most scornful way, and said he was too old a bird for +that. In fact, I believe he never saw her again. She went to her +mother's. She will have her child now, I suppose; for I hear that the +wretch of a husband, who would not let her have him, is dead. I +daresay she is happy at last. Poor thing! Some people would need stout +hearts, and have not got them." + +Adela sighed. This story, too, seemed to interest her. + +"What a miserable life!" she said. + +"Well, Miss Cathcart," said the schoolmaster, "no doubt it was. But +every life that has to be lived, can be lived; and however impossible +it may seem to the onlookers, it has its own consolations, or, at +least, interests. And I always fancy the most indispensable thing to a +life is, that it should be interesting to those who have it to +live. My wife and I have come through a good deal, but the time when +the life looked hardest to others, was not, probably, the least +interesting to us. It is just like reading a book: anything will do if +you are taken up with it." + +"Very good philosophy! Isn't it, Adela?" said the colonel. + +Adela cast her eyes down, as if with a despairing sense of rebuke, and +did not reply. + +"I wish you would tell Miss Cathcart," resumed the schoolmaster to his +wife, "that little story about the foolish lad you met once. And you +need not keep back the little of your own history that belongs to +it. I am sure the colonel will excuse you." + +"I insist on hearing the whole of it," said the colonel, with a smile. + +And Mrs. Bloomfield began. + +Let me say here once for all, that I cannot keep the tales I tell in +this volume from partaking of my own peculiarities of style, any more +than I could keep the sermon free of such; for of course I give them +all at second hand; and sometimes, where a joint was missing, I have +had to supply facts as well as words. But I have kept as near to the +originals as these necessities and a certain preparation for the press +would permit me. + +Mrs. Bloomfield, I say, began: + +"A good many years ago, now, on a warm summer evening, a friend, whom +I was visiting, asked me to take a drive with her through one of the +London parks. I agreed to go, though I did not care much about it. I +had not breathed the fresh air for some weeks; yet I felt it a great +trouble to go. I had been ill, and my husband was ill, and we had +nothing to do, and we did not know what would become of us. So I was +anything but cheerful. I _knew_ that all was for the best, as my good +husband was always telling me, but my eyes were dim and my heart was +troubled, and I could not feel sure that God cared quite so much for +us as he did for the lilies. + +"My friend was very cheerful, and seemed to enjoy everything; but a +kind of dreariness came over me, and I began comparing the loveliness +of the summer evening with the cold misty blank that seemed to make up +my future. My wretchedness grew greater and greater. The very colours +of the flowers, the blue of the sky, the sleep of the water, seemed to +push us out of the happy world that God had made. And yet the children +seemed as happy as if God were busy making, the things before their +eyes, and holding out each thing, as he made it, for them to look at. + +"I should have told you that we had two children then." + +"I did not know you had any family," interposed the colonel. + +"Yes, we had two then. One of them is now in India, and the other was +not long out of heaven.--Well, I was glad when my friend stopped the +carriage, and got out with the children, to take them close to the +water's edge, and let them feed the swans. I liked better to sit in +the carriage alone--an ungrateful creature, in the midst of causes for +thankfulness. I did not care for the beautiful things about me; and I +was not even pleased that other people should enjoy them. I listlessly +watched the well-dressed ladies that passed, and hearkened +contemptuously to the drawling way in which they spoke. So bad and +proud was I, that I said in my heart, 'Thank God! I am not like them +yet!' Then came nursemaids and children; and I did envy the servants, +because they had work to do, and health to do it, and wages for it +when it was done. The carriage was standing still all this time, you +know. Then sickly-looking men passed, with still more sickly-looking +wives, some of them leading a child between them. But even their faces +told of wages, and the pleasure of an evenings walk in the park. And +now I was able to thank God that they had the parks to walk in. Then +came tottering by, an old man, apparently of eighty years, leaning on +the arm of his grand-daughter, I supposed--a tidy, gentle-looking +maiden. As they passed, I heard the old man say: 'He maketh me to lie +down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters.' And +his quiet face looked as if the fields were yet green to his eyes, and +the still waters as pleasant as when he was a little child. + +"At last I caught sight of a poor lad, who was walking along very +slowly, looking at a gay-coloured handkerchief which he had spread out +before him. His clothes were rather ragged, but not so ragged as +old. On his head was what we now call a wide-awake. It was very limp +and shapeless; but some one that loved him had trimmed it with a bit +of blue ribbon, the ends of which hung down on his shoulder. This gave +him an odd appearance even at a distance. When he came up and I could +see his face, it explained everything. There was a constant smile +about his mouth, which in itself was very sweet; but as it had nothing +to do with the rest of the countenance, the chief impression it +conveyed was of idiotcy. He came near the carriage, and stood there, +watching some men who were repairing the fence which divided the road +from the footpath. His hair was almost golden, and went waving about +in the wind. His eye was very large and clear, and of a bright +blue. But it had no meaning in it. He would have been very handsome, +had there been mind in his face; but as it was, the very regularity of +his unlighted features made the sight a sadder one. His figure was +young; but his face might have belonged to a man of sixty. + +"He opened his mouth, stuck out his under jaw, and stood staring and +grinning at the men. At last one of them stopped to take breath, and, +catching sight of the lad, called out: + +"'Why, Davy! is that you?' + +"'Ya-as, it be,' replied Davy, nodding his head. + +"'Why, Davy, it's ever so long since I clapped eyes on ye!' said the +man. 'Where ha' ye been?' + +"'I 'aint been nowheres, as I knows on.' + +"'Well, if ye 'aint been nowheres, what have ye been doing? Flying +your kite?' + +"Davy shook his head sorrowfully, and at the same time kept on +grinning foolishly. + +"'I 'aint got no kite; so I can't fly it.' + +"'But you likes flyin' kites, don't ye?' said his friend, kindly. + +"'Ya-as,' answered Davy, nodding his head, and rubbing his hands, and +laughing out. 'Kites is such fun! I wish I'd got un.' + +"Then he looked thoughtfully, almost moodily, at the man, and said: + +"'Where's _your_ kite? I likes kites. Kites is friends to me.' + +"But by this time the man had turned again to his work, and was busy +driving a post into the ground; so he paid no attention to the lad's +question." + +"Why, Mrs. Bloomfield," interrupted the colonel, "I should just like +you to send out with a reconnoitring party, for you seem to see +everything and forget nothing." + +"You see best and remember best what most interests you, colonel; and +besides that, I got a good rebuke to my ingratitude from that poor +fellow. So you see I had reason to remember him. I hope I don't tire +you, Miss Cathcart." + +"Quite the contrary," answered our hostess. + +"By this time," resumed Mrs. Bloomfield, "another man had come up. He +had a coarse, hard-featured face; and he tried, or pretended to try, +to wheel his barrow, which was full of gravel, over Davy's toes. The +said toes were sticking quite bare through great holes in an old pair +of woman's boots. Then he began to tease him rather roughly. But Davy +took all his banter with just the same complacency and mirth with +which he had received the kindliness of the other man. + +"'How's yer sweetheart, Davy?' he said. + +"'Quite well, thank ye,' answered Davy. + +"'What's her name?' + +"'Ha! ha! ha! I won't tell ye that.' + +"'Come now, Davy, tell us her name.' + +"'Noa.' + +"'Don't be a fool.' + +"'I aint a fool. But I won't tell you her name.' + +"'I don't believe ye've got e'er a sweetheart. Come now.' + +"'I have though.' + +"'I don't believe ye.' + +"'I have though. I was at church with her last Sunday.' + +"Suddenly the man, looking hard at Davy, changed his tone to one of +surprise, and exclaimed: + +"'Why, boy, ye've got whiskers! Ye hadn't them the last time I see'd +ye. Why, ye _are_ set up now! When are ye going to begin to shave? +Where's your razors?' + +"''Aint begun yet,' replied Davy. 'Shall shave some day, but I 'aint +got too much yet.' + +"As he said this, he fondled away at his whiskers. They were few in +number, but evidently of great value in his eyes. Then he began to +stroke his chin, on which there was a little down visible--more like +mould in its association with his curious face than anything of more +healthy significance. After a few moments' pause, his tormentor began +again: + +"'Well, I can't think where ye got them whiskers as ye're so fond +of. Do ye know where ye got them?' + +"Davy took out his pocket-handkerchief, spread it out before him, and +stopped grinning. + +"'Yaas; to be sure I do,' he said at last. + +"'Ye do?' growled the man, half humorously, half scornfully. + +"'Yaas,' said Davy, nodding his head again and again. + +"'Did ye buy 'em?' + +"'Noa,' answered Davy; and the sweetness of the smile which he now +smiled was not confined to his mouth, but broke like light, the light +of intelligence, over his whole face. + +"'Were they gave to ye?' pursued the man, now really curious to hear +what he would say. + +"'Yaas,' said the poor fellow; and he clapped his hands in a kind of +suppressed glee. + +"'Why, who gave 'em to ye?' + +"Davy looked up in a way I shall never forget, and, pointing up with +his finger too, said nothing. + +"'What do ye mean?' said the man. 'Who gave ye yer whiskers?' + +"Davy pointed up to the sky again; and then, looking up with an +earnest expression, which, before you saw it, you would not have +thought possible to his face, said, + +"'Blessed Father.' + +"'Who?' shouted the man. + +"'Blessed Father,' Davy repeated, once more pointing upwards. + +"'Blessed Father!' returned the man, in a contemptuous tone; 'Blessed +Father!--I don't know who _that_ is. Where does he live? I never heerd +on _him_.' + +"Davy looked at him as if he were sorry for him. Then going closer up +to him, he said: + +"'Didn't you though? He lives up there'--again pointing to the +sky. 'And he is so kind! He gives me lots o' things.' + +"'Well!' said the man, 'I wish he'd give me thing's. But you don't +look so very rich nayther.' + +"'Oh! but he gives me lots o' things; and he's up there, and he gives +everybody lots o' things as likes to have 'em.' + +"'Well, what's he gave you?' + +"'Why, he's gave me some bread this mornin', and a tart last night--he +did.' + +"And the boy nodded his head, as was his custom, to make his assertion +still stronger. + +"'But you was sayin' just now, you hadn't got a kite. Why don't he +give you one?' + +"'_He'll_ give me one fast 'nuff,' said Davy, grinning again, and +rubbing his hands. + +"Miss Cathcart, I assure you I could have kissed the boy. And I hope I +felt some gratitude to God for giving the poor lad such trust in Him, +which, it seemed to me, was better than trusting in the +three-per-cents, colonel; for you can draw upon him to no end o' good +things. So Davy thought anyhow; and he had got the very thing for the +want of which my life was cold and sad, and discontented. Those words, +_Blessed Father_, and that look that turned his vacant face, like +Stephen's, into the face of an angel, because he was looking up to the +same glory, were in my ears and eyes for days. And they taught me, and +comforted me. He was the minister of God's best gifts to me. And to +how many more, who can tell? For Davy believed that God did care for +his own children. + +"Davy sauntered away, and before my friend came back with the +children, I had lost sight of him; but at my request we moved on +slowly till we should find him again. Nor had we gone far, before I +saw him sitting in the middle of a group of little children. He was +showing them the pictures on his pocket-handkerchief. I had one +sixpence in my purse--it was the last I had, Mr. Smith." + +Here, from some impulse or other, Mrs. Bloomfield addressed me. + +"But I wasn't so poor but I could borrow, and it was a small price to +give for what I had got; and so, as I was not able to leave the +carriage, I asked my friend to take it to him, and tell him that +Blessed Father had sent him that to buy a kite. The expression of +childish glee upon his face, and the devout God bless you, Lady, upon +his tongue, were strangely but not incongruously mingled. + +"Well, it was my last sixpence then, but here I and my husband are, +owing no man anything, and spending a happy Christmas Day, with many +thanks to Colonel and Miss Cathcart." + +"No, my good Madam," said the colonel; "it is we who owe you the +happiest part of our Christmas Day. Is it not, Adela?" + +"Yes, papa, it is indeed," answered Adela. + +Then, with some hesitation, she added, + +"But do you think it was quite fair? It was _you_, Mrs. Bloomfield, +who gave the boy the sixpence." + +"I only said God sent it," said Mrs. Bloomfield. + +"Besides," I interposed, "the boy never doubted it; and I think, after +all, with due submission to my niece, he was the best judge." + +"I should be only too happy to grant it," she answered, with a +sigh. "Things might be all right if one could believe +that--thoroughly, I mean." + +"At least you will allow," I said, "that this boy was not by any means +so miserable as he looked." + +"Certainly," she answered, with hearty emphasis. "I think he was much +to be envied." + +Here I discovered that Percy was asleep on a sofa. + +Other talk followed, and the colonel was looking very thoughtful. Tea +was brought in, and soon after, our visitors rose to take their leave. + +"You are not going already?" said the colonel. + +"If you will excuse us," answered the schoolmaster. "We are early +birds." + +"Well, will you dine with us this day week?" + +"With much pleasure," answered both in a breath. + +It was clear both that the colonel liked their simple honest company, +and that he saw they might do his daughter good; for her face looked +very earnest and sweet; and the clearness that precedes rain was +evident in the atmosphere of her eyes. + +After their departure we soon separated; and I retired to my room full +of a new idea, which I thought, if well carried out, might be of still +further benefit to the invalid. + +But before I went to bed, I had made a rough translation of the +following hymn of Luther's, which I have since completed--so far at +least as the following is complete. I often find that it helps to keep +good thoughts before the mind, to turn them into another shape of +words. + + From heaven above I come to you, + To bring a story good and new: + Of goodly news so much I bring-- + I cannot help it, I must sing. + + To you a child is come this morn, + A child of holy maiden born; + A little babe, so sweet and mild-- + It is a joy to see the child! + + 'Tis little Jesus, whom we need + Us out of sadness all to lead: + He will himself our Saviour be, + And from all sinning set us free. + + Here come the shepherds, whom we know; + Let all of us right gladsome go, + To see what God to us hath given-- + A gift that makes a stable heaven. + + Take heed, my heart. Be lowly. So + Thou seest him lie in manger low: + That is the baby sweet and mild; + That is the little Jesus-child. + + Ah, Lord! the maker of us all! + How hast thou grown so poor and small, + That there thou liest on withered grass-- + The supper of the ox and ass? + + Were the world wider many-fold, + And decked with gems and cloth of gold, + 'Twere far too mean and narrow all, + To make for Thee a cradle small. + + Rough hay, and linen not too fine, + The silk and velvet that are thine; + Yet, as they were thy kingdom great, + Thou liest in them in royal state. + + And this, all this, hath pleased Thee, + That Thou mightst bring this truth to me: + That all earth's good, in one combined, + Is nothing to Thy mighty mind. + + Ah, little Jesus! lay thy head + Down in a soft, white, little bed, + That waits Thee in this heart of mine, + And then this heart is always Thine. + + Such gladness in my heart would make + Me dance and sing for Thy sweet sake. + Glory to God in highest heaven, + For He his son to us hath given! + + + +Chapter IV. + +The new doctor. + + +Next forenoon, wishing to have a little private talk with my friend, I +went to his room, and found him busy writing to Dr. Wade. He consulted +me on the contents of the letter, and I was heartily pleased with the +kind way in which he communicated to the old gentleman the resolution +he had come to, of trying whether another medical man might not be +more fortunate in his attempt to treat the illness of his daughter. + +"I fear Dr. Wade will be offended, say what I like," said he. + +"It is quite possible to be too much afraid of giving offence," I +said; "But nothing can be more gentle and friendly than the way in +which you have communicated the necessity." + +"Well, it is a great comfort you think so. Will you go with me to call +on Mr. Armstrong?" + +"With much pleasure," I answered; and we set out at once. + +Shown into the doctor's dining-room, I took a glance at the books +lying about. I always take advantage of such an opportunity of gaining +immediate insight into character. Let me see a man's book-shelves, +especially if they are not extensive, and I fancy I know at once, in +some measure, what sort of a man the owner is. One small bookcase in a +recess of the room seemed to contain all the non-professional library +of Mr. Armstrong. I am not going to say here what books they were, or +what books I like to see; but I was greatly encouraged by the +consultation of the auguries afforded by the backs of these. I was +still busy with them, when the door opened, and the doctor entered. He +was the same man whom I had seen in church looking at Adela. He +advanced in a frank manly way to the colonel, and welcomed him by +name, though I believe no introduction had ever passed between +them. Then the colonel introduced me, and we were soon chatting very +comfortably. In his manner, I was glad to find that there was nothing +of the professional. I hate the professional. I was delighted to +observe, too, that what showed at a distance as a broad honest country +face, revealed, on a nearer view, lines of remarkable strength and +purity. + +"My daughter is very far from well," said the colonel, in answer to a +general inquiry. + +"So I have been sorry to understand," the doctor rejoined. "Indeed, it +is only too clear from her countenance." + +"I want you to come and see if you can do her any good." + +"Is not Dr. Wade attending her?" + +"I have already informed him that I meant to request your advice." + +"I shall be most happy to be of any service; but--might I suggest the +most likely means of enabling me to judge whether I can be useful or +not?" + +"Most certainly." + +"Then will you give me the opportunity of seeing her in a +non-professional way first? I presume, from the fact that she is able to +go to church, that she can be seen at home without the formality of an +express visit?" + +"Certainly," replied the colonel, heartily. "Do me the favour to dine +with us this evening, and, as far as that can go you will see her--to +considerable disadvantage, I fear," he concluded, smiling sadly. + +"Thank you; thank you. If in my power, I shall not fail you. But you +must leave a margin for professional contingencies." + +"Of course. That is understood." + +I had been watching Mr. Armstrong during this brief conversation, and +the favourable impressions I had already received of him were +deepened. His fine manly vigour, and the simple honesty of his +countenance, were such as became a healer of men. It seemed altogether +more likely that health might flow from such a source, than from the +_pudgey_, flabby figure of snuff-taking Dr. Wade, whose face had no +expression except a professional one. Mr. Armstrong's eyes looked you +full in the face, as if he was determined to understand you if he +could; and there seemed to me, with my foolish way of seeing signs +everywhere, something of tenderness about the droop of those long +eyelashes, so that his interpretation was not likely to fail from lack +of sympathy. Then there was the firm-set mouth of his brother the +curate, and a forehead as broad as his, if not so high or so full of +modelling. When we had taken our leave, I said to the colonel, + +"If that man's opportunity has been equal to his qualification, I +think we may have great hopes of his success in encountering this +unknown disease of poor Adela." + +"God grant it!" was all my friend's reply. + +When he informed Adela that he expected Mr. Henry Armstrong to dinner, +she looked at him with a surprised expression, as much as to +say--"Surely you do not mean to give me into his hands!" but she only +said: + +"Very well, papa." + +So Mr. Armstrong came, and made himself very agreeable at dinner, +talking upon all sorts of subjects, and never letting drop a single +word to remind Adela that she was in the presence of a medical +man. Nor did he seem to take any notice of her more than was required +by ordinary politeness; but behavior without speciality of any sort, +he drew his judgments from her general manner, and such glances as +fell naturally to his share, of those that must pass between all the +persons making up a small dinner-company. This enabled him to see her +as she really was, for she remained quite at such ease as her +indisposition would permit. He drank no wine at dinner, and only one +glass after; and then asked the host if he might go to the drawing-room. + +"And will you oblige me by coming with me, Mr. Smith? I can see that +you are at home here." + +Of course the colonel consented, and I was at his service. Adela rose +from her couch when we entered the room. Mr. Armstrong went up to her +gently, and said: + +"Are you able to sing something, Miss Cathcart? I have heard of your +singing." + +"I fear not," she answered; "I have not sung for months." + +"That is a pity. You must lose something by letting yourself get out +of practice. May I play something to you, then?" + +She gave him a quick glance that indicated some surprise, and said: + +"If you please. It will give me pleasure." + +"May I look at your music first?" + +"Certainly." + +He turned over all her loose music from beginning to end. Then without +a word seated himself at the grand piano. + +Whether he extemporized or played from memory, I, as ignorant of music +as of all other accomplishments, could not tell, but even to stupid +me, what he did play spoke. I assure my readers that I hardly know a +term in the whole musical vocabulary; and yet I am tempted to try to +describe what this music was like. + +In the beginning, I heard nothing but a slow sameness, of which I was +soon weary. There was nothing like an air of any kind in it. It seemed +as if only his fingers were playing, and his mind had nothing to do +with it. It oppressed me with a sense of the common-place, which, of +all things, I hate. At length, into the midst of it, came a few notes, +like the first chirp of a sleepy bird trying to sing; only the attempt +was half a wail, which died away, and came again. Over and over again +came these few sad notes, increasing in number, fainting, despairing, +and reviving again; till at last, with a fluttering of agonized wings, +as of a soul struggling up out of the purgatorial smoke, the music-bird +sprang aloft, and broke into a wild but unsure jubilation. Then, +as if in the exuberance of its rejoicing it had broken some law of the +kingdom of harmony, it sank, plumb-down, into the purifying fires +again; where the old wailing, and the old struggle began, but with +increased vehemence and aspiration. By degrees, the surrounding +confusion and distress melted away into forms of harmony, which +sustained the mounting cry of longing and prayer. Then all the cry +vanished in a jubilant praise. Stronger and broader grew the +fundamental harmony, and bore aloft the thanksgiving; which, at +length, exhausted by its own utterance, sank peacefully, like a summer +sunset, into a grey twilight of calm, with the songs of the summer +birds dropping asleep one by one; till, at last, only one was left to +sing the sweetest prayer for all, before he, too, tucked his head +under his wing, and yielded to the restoring silence. + +Then followed a pause. I glanced at Adela. She was quietly weeping. + +But he did not leave the instrument yet. A few notes, as of the first +distress, awoke; and then a fine manly voice arose, singing the +following song, accompanied by something like the same music he had +already played. It was the same feelings put into words; or, at least, +something like the same feelings, for I am a poor interpreter of +music: + + Rejoice, said the sun, I will make thee gay + With glory, and gladness, and holiday; + I am dumb, O man, and I need thy voice. + But man would not rejoice. + + Rejoice in thyself said he, O sun; + For thou thy daily course dost run. + In thy lofty place, rejoice if thou can: + For me, I am only a man. + + Rejoice, said the wind, I am free and strong; + I will wake in thy heart an ancient song. + In the bowing woods--hark! hear my voice! + But man would not rejoice. + + Rejoice, O wind, in thy strength, said he, + For thou fulfillest thy destiny. + Shake the trees, and the faint flowers fan: + For me, I am only a man. + + I am here, said the night, with moon and star; + The sun and the wind are gone afar; + I am here with rest and dreams of choice. + But man would not rejoice. + + For he said--What is rest to me, I pray, + Who have done no labour all the day? + He only should dream who has truth behind. + Alas! for me and my kind! + + Then a voice, that came not from moon nor star, + From the sun, nor the roving wind afar, + Said, Man, I am with thee--rejoice, rejoice! + And man said, I will rejoice! + +"A wonderful physician this!" thought I to myself. "He must be a +follower of some of the old mystics of the profession, counting +harmony and health all one." + +He sat still, for a few moments, before the instrument, perhaps to +compose his countenance, and then rose and turned to the company. + +The colonel and Percy had entered by this time. The traces of tears +were evident on Adela's face, and Percy was eyeing first her and then +Armstrong, with some signs of disquietude. Even during dinner it had +been clear to me that Percy did not like the doctor, and now he was as +evidently jealous of him. + +A little general conversation ensued, and the doctor took his +leave. The colonel followed him to the door. I would gladly have done +so too, but I remained in the drawing-room. All that passed between +them was: + +"Will you oblige me by calling on Sunday morning, half an hour before +church-time, colonel?" + +"With pleasure." + +"Will you come with me, Smith?" asked my friend, after informing me of +the arrangement. + +"Don't you think I might be in the way?" + +"Not at all. I am getting old and stupid. I should like you to come +and take care of me. He won't do Adela any good, I fear." + +"Why do you think so?" + +"He has a depressing effect on her already. She is sure not to like +him. She was crying when I came into the room after dinner." + +"Tears are not grief," I answered; "nor only the signs of grief, when +they do indicate its presence. They are a relief to it as well. But I +cannot help thinking there was some pleasure mingled with those tears, +for he had been playing very delightfully. He must be a very gifted +man." + +"I don't know anything about that. You know I have no ear for +music.--That won't cure my child anyhow." + +"I don't know," I answered. "It may help." + +"Do you mean to say he thinks to cure her by playing the piano to her? +If he thinks to come here and do that, he is mistaken." + +"You forget, Cathcart, that I have had no more conversation with him +than yourself. But surely you have seen no reason to quarrel with him +already." + +"No, no, my dear fellow. I do believe I am getting a crusty old +curmudgeon. I can't bear to see Adela like this." + +"Well, I confess, I have hopes from the new doctor; but we will see +what he says on Sunday." + +"Why should we not have called to-morrow?" + +"I can't answer that. I presume he wants time to think about the +case." + +"And meantime he may break his neck over some gate that he can't or +won't open." + +"Well, I should be sorry." + +"But what's to become of us then?" + +"Ah! you allow that? Then you do expect something of him?" + +"To be sure I do, only I am afraid of making a fool of myself, and +that sets me grumbling at him, I suppose." + +Next day was Saturday; and Mrs. Cathcart, Percy's mother, was expected +in the evening. I had a long walk in the morning, and after that +remained in my own room till dinner time. I confess I was prejudiced +against her; and just because I was prejudiced, I resolved to do all I +could to like her, especially as it was Christmas-tide. Not that one +time is not as good as another for loving your neighbour, but if ever +one is reminded of the duty, it is then. I schooled myself all I +could, and went into the drawing-room like a boy trying to be good; as +a means to which end, I put on as pleasant a face as would come. But +my good resolutions were sorely tried. + + * * * * * + +These asterisks indicate the obliteration of the personal description +which I had given of her. Though true, it was ill-natured. And +besides, so indefinite is all description of this kind, that it is +quite possible it might be exactly like some woman to whom I am +utterly unworthy to hold a candle. So I won't tell what her features +were like. I will only say, that I am certain her late husband must +have considered her a very fine woman; and that I had an indescribable +sensation in the calves of my legs when I came near her. But then, +although I believe I am considered a good-natured man, I confess to +prejudices (which I commonly refuse to act upon), and to profound +dislikes, especially to certain sorts of women, which I can no more +help feeling, than I can help feeling the misery that permeates the +joints of my jaws when I chance to bite into a sour apple. So my +opinions about such women go for little or nothing. + +When I entered the drawing-room, I saw at once that she had +established herself as protectress of Adela, and possibly as mistress +of the house. She leaned back in her chair at a considerable angle, +but without bending her spine, and her hands lay folded in her +lap. She made me a bow with her neck, without in the least altering +the angle of her position, while I made her one of my most profound +obeisances. A few common-places passed between us, and then her +brother-in-law leading her down to dinner, the evening passed by with +politeness on both sides. Adela did not appear to heed her presence +one way or the other. But then of late she had been very inexpressive. + +Percy seemed to keep out of his mother's way as much as possible. How +he amused himself, I cannot imagine. + +Next morning we went to call on the doctor, on our way to church. + +"Well, Mr. Armstrong, what do you think of my daughter?" asked the +colonel. + +"I do not think she is in a very bad way. Has she had any +disappointment that you know of?" + +"None whatever." + +"Ah--I have seen such a case before. There are a good many of them +amongst girls at her age. It is as if, without any disease, life were +gradually withdrawn itself--ebbing back as it were to its source. +Whether this has a physical or a psychological cause, it is impossible +to tell. In her case, I think the later, if indeed it have not a +deeper cause; that is, if I'm right in my hypothesis. A few days will +show me this; and if I am wrong, I will then make a closer examination +of her case. At present it is desirable that I should not annoy her in +any such way. Now for the practical: my conviction is that the best +thing that can be done for her is, to interest her in something, if +possible--no matter what it is. Does she take pleasure in anything?" + +"She used to be very fond of music. But of late I have not heard her +touch the piano." + +"May I be allowed to speak?" I asked. + +"Most certainly," said both at once. + +"I have had a little talk with Miss Cathcart, and I am entirely of +Mr. Armstrong's opinion," I said. "And with his permission--I am +pretty sure of my old friend's concurrence--I will tell you a plan I +have been thinking of. You remember, colonel, how she was more +interested in the anecdotes our friend the Bloomfields told the other +evening, than she has been in anything else, since I came. It seems to +me that the interest she cannot find for herself, we might be able to +provide for her, by telling her stories; the course of which everyone +should be at liberty to interrupt, for the introduction of any remark +whatever. If we once got her interested in anything, it seems to me, +as Mr. Armstrong has already hinted, that the tide of life would begin +to flow again. She would eat better, and sleep better, and speculate +less, and think less about herself--not _of_ herself--I don't mean +that, colonel; for no one could well think less of herself than she +does. And if we could amuse her in that way for a week or two, I think +it would give a fair chance to any physical remedies Mr. Armstrong +might think proper to try, for they act most rapidly on a system in +movement. It would be beginning from the inside, would it not?" + +"A capital plan," said the doctor, who had been listening with marked +approbation; "and I know one who I am sure would help. For my part, I +never told a story in my life, but I am willing to try--after awhile, +that is. My brother, however, would, I know, be delighted to lend his +aid to such a scheme, if colonel Cathcart would be so good as to +include him in the conspiracy. It is his duty as well as mine; for she +is one of his flock. And he can tell a tale, real or fictitious, +better than any one I know." + +"There can be no harm in trying it, gentlemen--with kindest thanks to +you for your interest in my poor child," said the colonel. "I confess +I have not much hope from such a plan, but--" + +"You must not let her know that the thing is got up for her," +interrupted the doctor. + +"Certainly not. You must all come and dine with us, any day you +like. I will call on your brother to-morrow." + +"This Christmas-tide gives good opportunity for such a scheme," I +said. "It will fall in well with all the festivities; and I am quite +willing to open the entertainment with a funny kind of fairy-tale, +which has been growing in my brain for some time." + +"Capital!" said Mr. Armstrong. "We must have all sorts." + +"Then shall it be Monday at six--that is, to-morrow?" asked the +colonel. "Your brother won't mind a short invitation?" + +"Certainly not. Ask him to-day. But I would suggest five, if I might, +to give us more time afterwards." + +"Very well. Let it be five. And now we will go to church." + +The ends of the old oak pews next the chancel were curiously +carved. One had a ladder and a hammer and nails on it. Another a +number of round flat things, and when you counted them you found that +there were thirty. Another had a curious thing--I could not tell what, +till one day I met an old woman carrying just such a bag. On another +was a sponge on the point of a spear. There were more of such +carvings; but these I could see from where I sat. And all the sermon +was a persuading of the people that God really loved them, without any +_if_ or _but_. + +Adela was very attentive to the clergy man; but I could see her glance +wander now and then from his face to that of his brother, who was in +the same place he had occupied on Christmas-day. The expression of her +aunt's face was judicial. + +When we came out of church, the doctor shook hands with me and said: + +"Can I have a word with you, Mr. Smith?" + +"Most gladly," I answered. "Your time is precious: I will walk your +way." + +"Thank you.--I like your plan heartily. But to tell the truth, I fancy +it is more a case for my brother than for me. But that may come about +all in good time, especially as she will now have an opportunity of +knowing him. He is the best fellow in the world. And his wife is as +good as he is. But--I feel I may say to you what I could not well say +to the colonel--I suspect the cause of her illness is rather a +spiritual one. She has evidently a strong mental constitution; and +this strong frame, so to speak, has been fed upon slops; and an +atrophy is the consequence. My hope in your plan is, partly, that it +may furnish a better mental table for her, for the time, and set her +foraging in new direction for the future." + +"But how could you tell that from the very little conversation you had +with her?" + +"It was not the conversation only--I watched everything about her; and +interpreted it by what I know about women. I believe that many of them +go into a consumption just from discontent--the righteous discontent +of a soul which is meant to sit at the Father's table, and so cannot +content itself with the husks which the swine eat. The theological +nourishment which is offered them is generally no better than husks. +They cannot live upon it, and so die and go home to their Father. And +without good spiritual food to keep the spiritual senses healthy and +true, they cannot see the thing's about them as they really are. They +cannot find interest in them, because they cannot find their _own_ +place amoungst them. There was one thing though that confirmed me in +this idea about Miss Cathcart. I looked over her music on purpose, and +I did not find one song that rose above the level of the drawing-room, +or one piece of music that had any deep feeling or any thought in +it. Of course I judged by the composers." + +"You astonish me by the truth and rapidity of your judgements. But how +did you, who like myself are a bachelor, come to know so much about +the minds of women?" + +"I believe in part by reading Milton, and learning from him a certain +high notion about myself and my own duty. None but a pure man can +understand women--I mean the true womanhood that is in them. But more +than to Milton am I indebted to that brother of mine you heard preach +to-day. If ever God made a good man, he is one. He will tell you +himself that he knows what evil is. He drank of the cup, found it full +of thirst and bitterness; cast it from him, and turning to the +fountain of life, kneeled and drank, and rose up a gracious giant. I +say the last--not he. But this brother kept me out of the mire in +which he soiled his own garments, though, thank God! they are clean +enough now. Forgive my enthusiasm, Mr. Smith, about my brother. He is +worthy of it." + +I felt the wind cold to my weak eyes, and did not answer for some +time, lest he should draw unfair conclusions. + +"You should get him to tell you his story. It is well worth hearing; +and as I see we shall be friends all, I would rather you heard it from +his own mouth." + +"I sincerely hope I may call that man my friend, some day." + +"You may do so already. He was greatly taken with you on the journey +down." + +"A mutual attraction then, I am happy to think. Good-bye, I am glad +you like my plan." + +"I think it excellent. Anything hearty will do her good. Isn't there +any young man to fall in love with her?" + +"I don't know of any at present." + +"Only the _best_ thing will make her well; but all true things tend to +healing." + +"But how is it that you have such notions--so different from those of +the mass of your professional brethren?" + +"Oh!" said he, laughing, "if you really want an answer, be it known to +all men that I am a student of Van Helmont." + +He turned away, laughing; and I, knowing nothing of Van Helmont, could +not tell whether he was in jest or in earnest. + +At dinner some remark was made about the sermon, I think by our host. + +"You don't call that the gospel!" said Mrs. Cathcart, with a smile. + +"Why, what do you call it, Jane?" + +"I don't know that I am bound to put a name upon it. I should, +however, call it pantheism." + +"Might I ask you, madam, what you understand by _pantheism_?" + +"Oh! neology, and all that sort of thing." + +"And neology is--?" + +"Really, Mr. Smith, a dinner-table is not the most suitable place in +the world for theological discussion." + +"I quite agree with you, madam," I responded, astonished at my own +boldness.--I was not quite so much afraid of her after this, although +I had an instinctive sense that she did not at all like me. But Percy +was delighted to see his mother discomfited, and laughed into his +plate. She regarded him with lurid eyes for a moment, and then took +refuge in her plate in turn. The colonel was too polite to make any +remark at the time, but when he and I were alone, he said: + +"Smith, I didn't expect it of you. Bravo, my boy!" + +And I, John Smith, felt myself a hero. + + + +Chapter V. + +The light princess. + + +Five o'clock, anxiously expected by me, came, and with it the +announcement of dinner. I think those of us who were in the secret +would have hurried over it, but with Beeves hanging upon our wheels, +we could not. However, at length we were all in the drawing-room, the +ladies of the house evidently surprised that we had come up stairs so +soon. Besides the curate, with his wife and brother, our party +comprised our old friends, Mr. and Mrs. Bloomfield, whose previous +engagement had been advanced by a few days. + +When we were all seated, I began, as if it were quite a private +suggestion of my own: + +"Adela, if you and our friends have no objection, I will read you a +story I have just scribbled off." + +"I shall be delighted, uncle." + +This was a stronger expression of content than I had yet heard her +use, and I felt flattered accordingly. + +"This is Christmas-time, you know, and that is just the time for +story-telling," I added. + +"I trust it is a story suitable to the season," said Mrs. Cathcart, +smiling. + +"Yes, very," I said; "for it is a child's story--a fairy tale, namely; +though I confess I think it fitter for grown than for young children. +I hope it is funny, though. I think it is." + +"So you approve of fairy-tales for children, Mr. Smith?" + +"Not for children alone, madam; for everybody that can relish them." + +"But not at a sacred time like this?" + +And again she smiled an insinuating smile. + +"If I thought God did not approve of fairy-tales, I would never read, +not to say write one, Sunday or Saturday. Would you, madam?" + +"I never do." + +"I feared not. But I must begin, notwithstanding." + +The story, as I now give it, is not exactly as I read it then, +because, of course, I was more anxious that it should be correct when +I prepared it for the press, than when I merely read it before a few +friends. + +"Once upon a time," I began; but I was unexpectedly interrupted by the +clergyman, who said, addressing our host: + +"Will you allow me, Colonel Cathcart, to be Master of the Ceremonies +for the evening?" + +"Certainly, Mr. Armstrong." + +"Then I will alter the arrangement of the party. Here, Henry--don't +get up, Miss Cathcart--we'll just lift Miss Cathcart's couch to this +corner by the fire.--Lie still, please. Now, Mr. Smith, you sit here +in the middle. Now, Mrs. Cathcart, here is an easy chair for you. With +my commanding officer I will not interfere. But having such a jolly +fire it was a pity not to get the good of it. Mr. Bloomfield, here is +room for you and Mrs. Bloomfield." + +"Excellently arranged," said our host. "I will sit by you, Mr. +Armstrong. Percy, won't you come and join the circle?" + +"No, thank you, uncle," answered Percy from a couch, "I am more +comfortable here." + +"Now, Lizzie," said the curate to his wife, "you sit on this stool by +me.--Too near the fire? No?--Very well.--Harry, put the bottle of +water near Mr. Smith. A fellow-feeling for another fellow--you see, +Mr. Smith. Now we're all right, I think; that is, if Mrs. Cathcart is +comfortable." + +"Thanks. Quite." + +"Then we may begin. Now, Mr. Smith.--One word more: anybody may speak +that likes. Now, then." + +So I did begin-- + +"Title: THE LIGHT PRINCESS. + +"Second Title: A FAIRY-TALE WITHOUT FAIRIES." + +"Author: JOHN SMITH, Gentleman. + +"Motto:--'_Your Servant, Goody Gravity_.' + +"From--SIR CHARLES GRANDISON." + +"I must be very stupid, I fear, Mr. Smith; but to tell the truth, _I_ +can't make head or tail of it," said Mrs. Cathcart. + +"Give me leave, madam," said I; "that is my office. Allow me, and I +hope to make both head and tail of it for you. But let me give you +first a mere general, and indeed a more applicable motto for my +story. It is this--from no worse authority than John Milton: + + 'Great bards beside + In sage and solemn times have sung + Of turneys and of trophies hung; + Of forests and enchantments drear, + Where more is meant than meets the ear.' + +"Milton here refers to Spencer in particular, most likely. But what +distinguishes the true bard in such work is, that _more is meant than +meets the ear_; and although I am no bard, I should scorn to write +anything that only spoke to the _ear_, which signifies the surface +understanding." + +General silence followed, and I went on. + +"THE LIGHT PRINCESS. + +"CHAPTER I.--WHAT! NO CHILDREN? + +"Once upon a time, so long ago, that I have quite forgotten the date, +there lived a king and queen who had no children. + +"And the king said to himself: 'All the queens of my acquaintance have +children, some three, some seven, an some as many as twelve; and my +queen has not one. I feel ill-used.' So he made up his mind to be +cross with his wife about it. But she bore it all like a good patient +queen as she was. Then the king grew very cross indeed. But the queen +pretended to take it all as a joke, and a very good one, too. + +"'Why don't you have any daughters, at least?' said he, 'I don't say +sons; that might be too much to expect.' + +"'I am sure, dear king, I am very sorry,' said the queen. + +"'So you ought to be,' retorted the king; 'you are not going to make a +virtue of _that_, surely.' + +"But he was not an ill-tempered king; and, in any matter of less +moment, he would have let the queen have her own way, with all his +heart. This, however, was an affair of state. + +"The queen smiled. + +"'You must have patience with a lady, you know, dear king,' said she. + +"She was, indeed, a very nice queen, and heartily sorry that she could +not oblige the king immediately. + +"The king tried to have patience, but he succeeded very badly. It was +more than he deserved, therefore, when, at last, the queen gave him a +daughter--as lovely a little princess as ever cried." + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER II.--WON'T I, JUST? + + +"The day drew near when the infant must be christened. The king wrote +all the invitations with his own hand. Of course somebody was +forgotten. + +"Now, it does not generally matter if somebody is forgotten, but you +must mind who. Unfortunately, the king forgot without intending it; +and the chance fell upon the Princess Makemnoit, which was awkward. +For the Princess was the king's own sister; and he ought not to have +forgotten her. But she had made herself so disagreeable to the old +king, their father, that he had forgot her in making his will; and so +it was no wonder that her brother forgot her in writing his +invitations. But poor relations don't do anything to keep you in mind +of them. Why don't they? The king could not see into the garret she +lived in, could he? She was a sour, spiteful creature. The wrinkles of +contempt crossed the wrinkles of peevishness, and made her face as +full of wrinkles as a pat of butter. If ever a king could be justified +in forgetting anybody, this king was justified in forgetting his +sister, even at a christening. And then she was so disgracefully poor! +She looked very odd, too. Her forehead was as large as all the rest of +her face, and projected over it like a precipice. When she was angry, +her little eyes flashed blue. When she hated anybody, they shone +yellow and green. What they looked like when she loved anybody, I do +not know; for I never heard of her loving anybody but herself, and I +do not think she could have managed that, if she had not somehow got +used to herself. But what made it highly imprudent in the king to +forget her, was--that she was awfully clever. In fact, she was a +witch; and when she bewitched anybody, he very soon had enough of it; +for she beat all the wicked fairies in wickedness, and all the clever +ones in cleverness. She despised all the modes we read of in history, +in which offended fairies and witches have taken their revenges; and +therefore, after waiting and waiting in vain for an invitation, she +made up her mind at last to go without one, and make the whole family +miserable, like a princess and a philosopher. + +"She put on her best gown, went to the palace, was kindly received by +the happy monarch, who forgot that he had forgotten her, and took her +place in the procession to the royal chapel. When they were all +gathered about the font, she contrived to get next to it, and throw +something into the water. She maintained then a very respectful +demeanour till the water was applied to the child's face. But at that +moment she turned round in her place three times, and muttered the +following words, loud enough for those beside her to hear: + + 'Light of spirit, by my charms, + Light of body, every part, + Never weary human arms-- + Only crush thy parents' heart!' + +"They all thought she had lost her wits, and was repeating some +foolish nursery rhyme; but a shudder went through the whole of them. +The baby, on the contrary, began to laugh and crow; while the nurse +gave a start and a smothered cry, for she thought she was struck with +paralysis: she could not feel the baby in her arms. But she clasped it +tight, and said nothing. + +"The mischief was done." + + +Here I came to a pause, for I found the reading somewhat nervous work, +and had to make application to the water-bottle. + +"Bravo! Mr. Smith," cried the clergyman. "A good beginning, I am sure; +for I cannot see what you are driving at." + +"I think I do," said Henry. "Don't you, Lizzie?" + +"No, I don't," answered Mrs. Armstrong. + +"One thing," said Mrs. Cathcart with a smile, not a very sweet one, +but still a smile, "one thing, I must object to. That is, introducing +church ceremonies into a fairy-tale." + +"Why, Mrs. Cathcart," answered the clergyman, taking up the cudgels +for me, "do you suppose the church to be such a cross-grained old +lady, that she will not allow her children to take a few gentle +liberties with their mother? She's able to stand that surely. They +won't love her the less for that." + +"Besides," I ventured to say, "if both church and fairy-tale belong to +humanity, they may occasionally cross circles, without injury to +either. They must have something in common. There is the _Fairy +Queen_, and the _Pilgrim's Progress_, you know, Mrs. Cathcart. I can +fancy the pope even telling his nephews a fairy-tale." + +"Ah, the pope! I daresay." + +"And not the archbishop?" + +"I don't think your reasoning quite correct, Mr. Smith," said the +clergyman; "and I think moreover there is a real objection to that +scene. It is, that no such charm could have had any effect where holy +water was employed as the medium. In fact I doubt if the wickedness +could have been wrought in a chapel at all." + +"I submit," I said. "You are right. I hold up the four paws of my +mind, and crave indulgence." + +"In the name of the church, having vindicated her power over evil +incantations, I permit you to proceed," said Mr. Armstrong, his black +eyes twinkling with fun. + +Mrs. Cathcart smiled, and shook her head. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER III.--SHE CAN'T BE OURS. + +"Her atrocious aunt had deprived the child of all her gravity. If you +ask me how this was effected, I answer: In the easiest way in the +world. She had only to destroy gravitation. And the princess was a +philosopher, and knew all the _ins_ and _outs_ of the laws of +gravitation as well as the _ins_ and _outs_ of her boot-lace. And +being a witch as well, she could abrogate those laws in a moment; or +at least so clog their wheels and rust their bearings, that they would +not work at all. But we have more to do with what followed, than with +how it was done. + +"The first awkwardness that resulted from this unhappy privation was, +that the moment the nurse began to float the baby up and down, she +flew from her arms towards the ceiling. Happily, the resistance of the +air brought her ascending career to a close within a foot of it. There +she remained, horizontal as when she left her nurse's arms, kicking +and laughing amazingly. The nurse in terror flew to the bell, and +begged the footman who answered it, to bring up the house-steps +directly. Trembling in every limb, she climbed upon the steps, and had +to stand upon the very top, and reach up, before she could catch the +floating tail of the baby's long clothes. + +"When the strange fact came to be known, there was a terrible +commotion in the palace. The occasion of its discovery by the king was +naturally a repetition of the nurse's experience. Astonished that he +felt no weight when the child was laid in his arms, he began to wave +her up and--not down; for she slowly ascended to the ceiling as +before, and there remained floating in perfect comfort and +satisfaction, as was testified by her peals of tiny laughter. The king +stood staring up in speechless amazement, and trembled so that his +beard shook like grass in the wind. At last, turning to the queen, who +was just as horror-struck as himself, he said, gasping, staring, and +stammering: + +"'She _can't_ be ours, queen!' + +"Now the queen was much cleverer than the king, and had begun already +to suspect that 'this effect defective came by cause.' + +"'I am sure she is ours,' answered she. 'But we ought to have taken +better care of her at the christening. People who were never invited +ought not to have been present.' + +"'Oh, ho!' said the king, tapping his forehead with his forefinger, 'I +have it all. I've found her out. Don't you see it, queen? Princess +Makemnoit has bewitched her.' + +"'That's just what I say,' answered the queen. + +"'I beg your pardon, my love; I did not hear you. John! bring the +steps I get on my throne with.' + +"For he was a little king with a great throne, like many other kings. + +"The throne-steps were brought, and set upon the dining-table, and +John got upon the top of them. But he could not reach the little +princess, who lay like a baby-laughter-cloud in the air, exploding +continuously. + +"'Take the tongs, John,' said his majesty; and getting up on the +table, he handed them to him. + +"John could reach the baby now, and the little princess was handed +down by the tongs. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER IV.--WHERE IS SHE? + +"One fine summer day, a month after these her first adventures, during +which time she had been very carefully watched, the princess was lying +on the bed in the queen's own chamber, fast asleep. One of the windows +was open, for it was noon, and the day so sultry that the little girl +was wrapped in nothing less etherial than slumber itself. The queen +came into the room, and not observing that the baby was on the bed, +opened another window. A frolicsome fairy wind which had been watching +for a chance of mischief, rushed in at the one window, and taking its +way over the bed where the child was lying, caught her up, and rolling +and floating her along like a piece of flue, or a dandelion-seed, +carried her with it through the opposite window, and away. The queen +went down stairs, quite ignorant of the loss she had herself +occasioned. When the nurse returned, she supposed that her majesty +had carried her off, and, dreading a scolding, delayed making inquiry +about her. But hearing nothing, she grew uneasy, and went at length to +the queen's boudoir, where she found her majesty. + +"'Please your majesty, shall I take the baby?' said she. + +"'Where is she?' asked the queen. + +"'Please forgive me. I know it was wrong.' + +"'What do you mean?' said the queen, looking grave. + +"'Oh! don't frighten me, your majesty!' exclaimed the nurse, clapping +her hands. + +"The queen saw that something was amiss, and fell down in a faint. The +nurse rushed about the palace, screaming, 'My baby! my baby!' + +"Every one ran to the queen's room. But the queen could give no +orders. They soon found out, however, that the princess was missing, +and in a moment the palace was like a bee-hive in a garden. But in a +minute more the queen was brought to herself by a great shout and a +clapping of hands. They had found the princess fast asleep under a +rose-bush, to which the elvish little wind-puff had carried her, +finishing its mischief by shaking a shower of red rose-leaves all over +the little white sleeper. Startled by the noise the servants made, she +woke; and furious with glee, scattered the rose-leaves in all +directions, like a shower of spray in the sunset. + +"She was watched more carefully after this, no doubt; yet it would be +endless to relate all the odd incidents resulting from this +peculiarity of the young princess. But there never was a baby in a +house, not to say a palace, that kept a household in such constant +good humour, at least below stairs. If it was not easy for her nurses +to hold her, certainly she did not make their arms ache. And she was +so nice to play at ball with! There was positively no danger of +letting her fall. You might throw her down, or knock her down, or push +her down, but you couldn't _let_ her down. It is true, you might let +her fly into the fire or the coal-hole, or through the window; but +none of these accidents had happened as yet. If you heard peals of +laughter resounding from some unknown region, you might be sure enough +of the cause. Going down into the kitchen, or _the room_, you would +find Jane and Thomas, and Robert and Susan, all and sum, playing at +ball with the little princess. She was the ball herself, and did not +enjoy it the less for that. Away she went, flying from one to another, +screeching with laughter. And the servants loved the ball itself +better even than the game. But they had to take care how they threw +her, for if she received an upward direction, she would never come +down without being fetched. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER V.--WHAT IS TO BE DONE? + +"But above stairs it was different. One day, for instance, after +breakfast, the king went into his counting-house, and counted out his +money. The operation gave him no pleasure. + +"'To think,' said he to himself, 'that every one of these gold +sovereigns weighs a quarter of an ounce, and my real, live, +flesh-and-blood princess weighs nothing at all!' + +"And he hated his gold sovereigns, as they lay with a broad smile of +self-satisfaction all over their yellow faces. + +"The queen was in the parlour, eating bread and honey. But at the +second mouthful, she burst out crying, and could not swallow it. The +king heard her sobbing. Glad of anybody, but especially of his queen, +to quarrel with, he clashed his gold sovereigns into his money-box, +clapped his crown on his head, and rushed into the parlour. + +"'What is all this about?' exclaimed he. 'What are you crying for, +queen?' + +"'I can't eat it,' said the queen, looking ruefully at the honey-pot. + +"'No wonder!' retorted the king. 'You've just eaten your +breakfast--two turkey eggs, and three anchovies.' + +"'Oh! that's not it!' sobbed her majesty. 'It's my child, my child!' + +"'Well, what's the matter with your child? She's neither up the +chimney nor down the draw-well. Just hear her laughing.' Yet the king +could not help a sigh, which he tried to turn into a cough, saying, + +"'It is a good thing to be light-hearted, I am sure, whether she be +ours or not.' + +"'It is a bad thing to be light-headed,' answered the queen, looking +with prophetic soul, far into the future. + +"''Tis a good thing to be light-handed,' said the king. + +"''Tis a bad thing to be light-fingered,' answered the queen. + +"''Tis a good thing to be light-footed,' said the king. + +"''Tis a bad thing,' began the queen; but the king interrupted her. + +"'In fact,' said he, with the tone of one who concludes an argument in +which he has had only imaginary opponents, and in which, therefore, he +has come off triumphant--'in fact, it is a good thing altogether to be +light-bodied.' + +"'But it is a bad thing altogether to be light-minded,' retorted the +queen, who was beginning to lose her temper. + +"This last answer quite discomfited his majesty, who turned on his +heel, and betook himself to his counting-house again. But he was not +halfway towards it, when the voice of his queen overtook him: + +"'And it's a bad thing to be light-haired,' screamed she, determined +to have more last words, now that her spirit was roused. + +"The queen's hair was black as night; and the king's had been, and his +daughter's was, golden as morning. But it was not this reflection on +his hair that troubled him; it was the double use of the word _light_. +For the king hated all witticisms, and punning especially. And +besides he could not tell whether the queen meant light-_haired_ or +light-_heired_; for why might she not aspirate her vowels when she was +ex-asperated herself?" + +"Now, really," interrupted the clergyman, "I must protest. Mr. Smith, +you bury us under an avalanche of puns, and, I must say, not very good +ones. Now, the story, though humorous, is not of the kind to admit of +such fanciful embellishment. It reminds one rather of a burlesque at a +theatre--the lowest thing, from a literary point of view, to be +found." + +"I submit," was all I could answer; for I feared that he was right. +The passage, as it now stands, is not nearly so bad as it was then, +though, I confess, it is still bad enough. + +"I think," said Mrs. Armstrong, "since criticism is the order of the +evening, and Mr. Smith is so kind as not to mind it, that he makes the +king and queen too silly. It takes away from the reality." + +"Right too, my dear madam," I answered. + +"The reality of a fairy-tale?" said Mrs. Cathcart, as if asking a +question of herself. + +"But will you grant me the justice," said I, "to temper your judgments +of me, if not of my story, by remembering that this is the first thing +of the sort I ever attempted?" + +"I tell you what," said the doctor, "it's very easy to criticise, but +none of you could have written it yourselves." + +"Of course not, for my part," said the clergyman. + +Silence followed; and I resumed. + +"He turned upon his other heel, and rejoined her. She looked angry +still, because she knew that she was guilty, or, what was much the +same, knew that he thought so. + +"'My dear queen,' said he, 'duplicity of any sort is exceedingly +objectionable between married people, of any rank, not to say kings +and queens; and the most objectionable form it can assume is that of +punning.' + +"'There!' said the queen, 'I never made a jest, but I broke it in the +making. I am the most unfortunate woman in the world!' + +"She looked so rueful, that the king took her in his arms; and they +sat down to consult. + +"'Can you bear this?' said the king. + +"'No, I can't,' said the queen. + +"'Well, what's to be done?' said the king. + +"'I'm sure I don't know,' said the queen. 'But might you not try an +apology?' + +"'To my old sister, I suppose you mean?' said the king. + +"'Yes,' said the queen. + +"'Well, I don't mind,' said the king. + +"So he went the next morning to the garret of the princess, and, +making a very humble apology, begged her to undo the spell. But the +princess declared, with a very grave face, that she knew nothing at +all about it. Her eyes, however, shone pink, which was a sign that she +was happy. She advised the king and queen to have patience, and to +mend their ways. The king returned disconsolate. + +The queen tried to comfort him. + +"'We will wait till she is older. She may then be able to suggest +something herself. She will know at least how she feels, and explain +things to us.' + +"'But what if she should marry!' exclaimed the king, in sudden +consternation at the idea. + +"'Well, what of that?' rejoined the queen. + +"'Just think! If she were to have any children! In the course of a +hundred years, the air might be as full of floating children as of +gossamers in autumn.' + +"'That is no business of ours,' replied the queen. 'Besides, by that +time, they will have learned to take care of themselves.' + +"A sigh was the king's only answer. + +"He would have consulted the court physicians; but he was afraid they +would try experiments upon her. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER VI--SHE LAUGHS TOO MUCH. + +"Meantime, notwithstanding awkward occurrences, and griefs that she +brought her parents to, the little princess laughed and grew--not fat, +but plump and tall. She reached the age of seventeen, without having +fallen into, any worse scrape than a chimney; by rescuing her from +which, a little bird-nesting urchin got fame and a black face. Nor, +thoughtless as she was, had she committed anything worse than laughter +at everybody and everything, that came in her way. When she heard that +General Clanrunfort was cut to pieces with all his forces, she +laughed; when she heard that the enemy was on his way to besiege her +papa's capital, she laughed hugely; but when she heard that the city +would most likely be abandoned to the mercy of the enemy's +soldiery--why, then, she laughed immoderately. These were merely +reports invented for the sake of experiment. But she never could be +brought to see the serious side of anything. When her mother cried, +she said: + +"'What queer faces mamma makes! And she squeezes water out of her +cheeks! Funny mama!' + +"And when her papa stormed at her, she laughed, and danced round and +round him, clapping her hands, and crying: + +"'Do it again, papa. Do it again! It's such fun! Dear, funny papa!' + +"And if he tried to catch her, she glided from him in an instant, not +in the least afraid of him, but thinking, it part of the game not to +be caught. With one push of her foot, she would be floating in the air +above his head; or she would go dancing backwards and forwards and +sideways, like a great butterfly. It happened several times, when her +father and mother were holding a consultation about her in private, +that they were interrupted by vainly repressed outbursts of laughter +over their heads; and looking up with indignation, saw her floating at +full length in the air above them, whence she regarded them with the +most comical appreciation of the position. + +"One day an awkward accident happened. The princess had come out upon +the lawn with one of her attendants, who held her by the hand. Spying +her father at the other side of the lawn, she snatched her hand from +the maid's, and sped across to him. Now, when she wanted to run alone, +her custom was to catch up a stone in each hand, so that she might +come down again after a bound. Whatever she wore as part of her attire +had no effect in this way: even gold, when it thus became as it were a +part of herself, lost all its weight for the time. But whatever she +only held in her hands, retained its downward tendency. On this +occasion she could see nothing to catch up, but a huge toad, that was +walking across the lawn as if he had a hundred years to do it in. Not +knowing what disgust meant, for this was one of her peculiarities, she +snatched up the toad, and bounded away. She had almost reached her +father, and he was holding out his arms to receive her, and take from +her lips the kiss which hovered on them like a butterfly on a rosebud, +when a puff of wind blew her aside into the arms of a young page, who +had just been receiving a message from his majesty. Now it was no +great peculiarity in the princess that, once she was set a-going, it +always cost her time and trouble to check herself. On this occasion +there was no time. She _must_ kiss--and she kissed the page. She did +not mind it much; for she had no shyness in her composition; and she +knew, besides, that she could not help it. So she only laughed, like a +musical-box. The poor page fared the worst. For the princess, trying +to correct the unfortunate tendency of the kiss, put out her hands to +keep her off the page; so that, along with the kiss, he received, on +the other cheek, a slap with the huge black toad, which she poked +right into his eye. He tried to laugh, too, but it resulted in a very +odd contortion of countenance, which showed that there was no danger +of his pluming himself on the kiss. Indeed it is not safe to be kissed +by princesses. As for the king, his dignity was greatly hurt, and he +did not speak to the page for a whole month. + +"I may here remark that it was very amusing to see her run, if her +mode of progression could properly be called running. For first she +would make a bound; then, having alighted, she would run a few steps, +and make another bound. Sometimes she would fancy she had reached the +ground before she actually had, and her feet would go backwards and +forwards, running upon nothing at all, like those of a chicken on its +back. Then she would laugh like the very spirit of fun; only in her +laugh there was something missing. What it was, I find myself unable +to describe. I think it was a certain tone, depending upon the +possibility of sorrow--_morbidezza_, perhaps. She never smiled." + +"I am not sure about your physics, Mr. Smith," said the doctor. "If +she had no gravity, no amount of muscular propulsion could have given +her any momentum. And again, if she had no gravity, she must +inevitably have ascended beyond the regions of the atmosphere." + +"Bottle your philosophy, Harry, with the rest of your physics," said +the clergyman, laughing. "Don't you see that she must have had some +weight, only it wasn't worth mentioning, being no greater than the +ordinary weight of the atmosphere. Besides, you know very well that a +law of nature could not be destroyed. Therefore, it was only +witchcraft, you know; and the laws of that remain to be discovered--at +least so far as my knowledge goes.--Mr. Smith, you have gone in for a +fairy-tale; and if I were you, I would claim the immunities of +Fairyland." + +"So I do," I responded fiercely, and went on. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER VII.--TRY METAPHYSICS. + +"After a long avoidance of the painful subject, the king and queen +resolved to hold a counsel of three upon it; and so they sent for the +princess. In she came, sliding and flitting and gliding from one piece +of furniture to another, and put herself at last in an armchair, in a +sitting posture. Whether she could be said _to sit_, seeing she +received no support from the seat of the chair, I do not pretend to +determine. + +"'My dear child,' said the king, 'you must be aware that you are not +exactly like other people.' + +"'Oh, you dear funny papa! I have got a nose and two eyes and all the +rest. So have you. So has mamma.' + +"'Now be serious, my dear, for once,' said the queen. + +"'No, thank you, mamma; I had rather not.' + +"'Would you not like to be able to walk like other people?' said the +king. + +"'No indeed, I should think not. You only crawl. You are such slow +coaches!' + +"'How do you feel, my child?' he resumed, after a pause of +discomfiture. + +"'Quite well, thank you.' + +"'I mean, what do you feel like?' + +"'Like nothing at all, that I know of.' + +"'You must feel like something.' + +"'I feel like a princess with such a funny papa, and such a dear pet +of a queen-mamma!' + +"'Now really!' began the queen; but the princess interrupted her. + +"'Oh! yes,' she added, 'I remember. I have a curious feeling +sometimes, as if I were the only person that had any sense in the +whole world.' + +"She had been trying to behave herself with dignity; but now she burst +into a violent fit of laughter, threw herself backwards over the +chair, and went rolling about the floor in an ecstasy of enjoyment. +The king picked her up easier than one does a down quilt, and replaced +her in her former relation to the chair. The exact preposition +expressing the relation I do not happen to know. + +"'Is there nothing you wish for?' resumed the king, who had learned by +this time that it was quite useless to be angry with her. + +"'O you dear papa!--yes,' answered she. + +"'What is it, my darling?' + +"'I have been longing for it--oh, such a time! Ever since last night.' + +"'Tell me what it is.' + +"'Will you promise to let me have it?' + +"The king was on the point of saying _yes_; but the wiser queen +checked him with a single motion of her head. + +"'Tell me what it is first,' said he. + +"'No, no. Promise first.' + +"'I dare not. What is it?' + +"'Mind I hold you to your promise.--It is--to be tied to the end of a +string--a very long string indeed, and be flown like a kite. Oh, such +fun! I would rain rose-water, and hail sugar-plums, and snow +whipt-cream, and, and, and--' + +"A fit of laughing checked her; and she would have been off again, +over the floor, had not the king started up and caught her just in +time. Seeing that nothing but talk could be got out of her, he rang +the bell, and sent her away with two of her ladies-in-waiting. + +"'Now, queen,' he said, turning to her majesty, 'what _is_ to be +done?' + +"'There is but one thing left,' answered she. 'Let us consult the +college of Metaphysicians.' + +"'Bravo!' cried the king; 'we will.' + +"Now at the head of this college were two very wise Chinese +philosophers--by name, Hum-Drum, and Kopy-Keck. For them the king +sent; and straightway they came. In a long speech, he communicated to +them what they knew very well already--as who did not?--namely, the +peculiar condition of his daughter in relation to the globe on which +she dwelt; and requested them to consult together as to what might be +the cause and probable cure of her _infirmity_. The king laid stress +upon the word, but failed to discover his own pun. The queen laughed; +but Hum-Drum and Kopy-Keck heard with humility and retired in silence. +Their consultation consisted chiefly in propounding and supporting, +for the thousandth time, each his favourite theories. For the +condition of the princess afforded delightful scope for the discussion +of every question arising from the division of thought--in fact of all +the Metaphysics of the Chinese Empire. But it is only justice to say +that they did not altogether neglect the discussion of the practical +question, _what was to be done_. + +"Hum-Drum was a Materialist, and Kopy-Keck was a Spiritualist. The +former was slow and sententious; the latter was quick and flighty; the +latter had generally the first word; the former the last. + +"'I assert my former assertion,' began Kopy-Keck, with a plunge. +'There is not a fault in the princess, body or soul; only they are +wrong put together. Listen to me now, Hum-Drum, and I will tell you in +brief what I think. Don't speak. Don't answer me. I won't hear you +till I have done.--At that decisive moment, when souls seek their +appointed habitations, two eager souls met, struck, rebounded, lost +their way, and arrived each at the wrong place. The soul of the +princess was one of those, and she went far astray. She does not +belong by rights to this world at all, but to some other planet, +probably Mercury. Her proclivity to her true sphere destroys all the +natural influence which this orb would otherwise possess over her +corporeal frame. She cares for nothing here. There is no relation +between her and this world. + +"'She must therefore be taught, by the sternest compulsion, to +take an interest in the earth as the earth. She must study every +department of its history--its animal history; its vegetable history; +its mineral history; its social history; its moral history; its +political history; its scientific history; its literary history; its +musical history; its artistical history; above all, its metaphysical +history. She must begin with the Chinese Dynasty, and end with +Japan. But first of all she must study Geology, and especially the +history of the extinct races of animals--their natures, their habits, +their loves, their hates, their revenges. She must----' + +"'Hold, h-o-o-old!' roared Hum-Drum. 'It is certainly my turn now. My +rooted and insubvertible conviction is that the causes of the +anomalies evident in the princess's condition are strictly and solely +physical. But that is only tantamount to acknowledging that they +exist. Hear my opinion.--From some cause or other, of no importance to +our inquiry, the motion of her heart has been reversed. That +remarkable combination of the suction and the force pump, works the +wrong way--I mean in the case of the unfortunate princess: it draws in +where it should force out, and forces out where it should draw in. The +offices of the auricles and the ventricles are subverted. The blood is +sent forth by the veins, and returns by the arteries. Consequently it +is running the wrong way through all her corporeal organism--lungs and +all. Is it then all mysterious, seeing that such is the case, that on +the other particular of gravitation as well, she should differ from +normal humanity? My proposal for the cure is this: + +"Phlebotomize until she is reduced to the last point of safety. Let it +be effected, if necessary, in a warm bath. When she is reduced to a +state of perfect asphyxy, apply a ligature to the left ancle, drawing +it as tight as the bone will bear. Apply, at the same moment, another +of equal tension around the right wrist. By means of plates +constructed for the purpose, place the other foot and hand under the +receivers of two air-pumps. Exhaust the receivers. Exhibit a pint of +French brandy, and await the result.' + +"'Which would presently arrive in the form of grim Death,' said +Kopy-Keck. + +"'If it should, she would yet die in doing our duty,' retorted +Hum-Drum. + +"But their Majesties had too much tenderness for their volatile +offspring to subject her to either of the schemes of the equally +unscrupulous philosophers. Indeed the most complete knowledge of the +laws of nature would have been unserviceable in her case; for it was +impossible to classify her. She was a fifth imponderable body, sharing +all the other properties of the ponderable. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER VIII.--TRY A DROP OF WATER. + +"Perhaps the best thing for the princess would have been falling in +love. But how a princess who had no gravity at all, could fall into +anything, is a difficulty--perhaps _the_ difficulty. As for her own +feelings on the subject, she did not even know that there was such a +bee-hive of honey and stings to be fallen into. And now I come to +mention another curious fact about her. + +"The palace was built on the shore of the loveliest lake in the world; +and the princess loved this lake more than father or mother. The root +of this preference no doubt, although the princess did not recognize +it as such--was, that, the moment she got into it, she recovered the +natural right of which she had been so wickedly deprived--namely, +gravity. Whether this was owing to the fact that water had been +employed as the means of conveying the injury, I do not know. But it +is certain that she could swim and dive like the duck that her old +nurse said she was. The way that this alleviation of her misfortune +was discovered, was as follows. One summer evening, during the +carnival of the country, she had been taken upon the lake, by the king +and queen, in the royal barge. They were accompanied by many of the +courtiers in a fleet of little boats. In the middle of the lake she +wanted to get into the lord chancellor's barge, for his daughter, who +was a great favourite with her, was in it with her father. The old +king rarely condescended to make light of his misfortune; but on this +occasion he happened to be in a particularly good humour; and, as the +barges approached each other, he caught up the princess to throw her +into the chancellor's barge. He lost his balance, however, and, +dropping into the bottom of the barge, lost his hold of his daughter; +not however before imparting to her the downward tendency of his own +person, though in a somewhat different direction; for, as the king +fell into the boat, she fell into the water. With a burst of delighted +laughter, she disappeared in the lake. A cry of horror ascended from +the boats. They had never seen the princess go down before. Half the +men were under water in a moment; but they had all, one after another, +come up to the surface again for breath, when--tinkle, tinkle, babble +and gush! came the princess's laugh over the water from far +away. There she was, swimming like a swan. Nor would she come out for +king or queen, chancellor or daughter. But though she was obstinate, +she seemed more sedate than usual. Perhaps that was because a great +pleasure spoils laughing. After this, the passion of her life was to +get into the water, and she was always the better behaved and the more +beautiful the more she had of it. Summer and winter it was all the +same; only she could not stay quite so long in the water, when they +had to break the ice to let her in. Any day, from morning till +evening, she might be descried--a streak of white in the blue +water--lying as still as the shadow of a cloud, or shooting along like +a dolphin; disappearing, and coming up again far off, just where one +did not expect her. She would have been in the lake of a night too, if +she could have had her way; for the balcony of her window overhung a +deep pool in it; and through a shallow reedy passage she could have +swum out into the wide wet water, and no one would have been any the +wiser. Indeed when she happened to wake in the moonlight, she could +hardly resist the temptation. But there was the sad difficulty of +getting into it. She had as great a dread of the air as some children +have of the water. For the slightest gust of wind would blow her away; +and a gust might arise in the stillest moment. And if she gave herself +a push towards the water and just failed of reaching it, her situation +would be dreadfully awkward, irrespective of the wind; for at best +there she would have to remain, suspended in her nightgown, till she +was seen and angled for by somebody from the window. + +"'Oh! if I had my gravity,' thought she contemplating the water, 'I +would flash off this balcony like a long white sea-bird, head-long +into the darling wetness. Heigh-ho!' + +"This was the only consideration that made her wish to be like other +people. + +"Another reason for being fond of the water was that in it alone she +enjoyed any freedom. For she could not walk out without a cortege, +consisting in part of a troop of light horse, for fear of the +liberties which the wind might take with her. And the king grew more +apprehensive with increasing years, till at last he would not allow +her to walk abroad without some twenty silken cords fastened to as +many parts of her dress, and held by twenty noble-men. Of course +horseback was out of the question. But she bade good-bye to all this +ceremony when she got into the water. So remarkable were its effects +upon her, especially in restoring her for the time to the ordinary +human gravity, that, strange to say, Hum-Drum and Kopy-Keck agreed in +recommending the king to bury her alive for three years; in the hope +that, as the water did her so much good, the earth would do her yet +more. But the king had some vulgar prejudices against the experiment, +and would not give his consent. Foiled in this, they yet agreed in +another recommendation; which, seeing that the one imported his +opinions from China and the other from Thibet, was very remarkable +indeed. They said that, if water of external origin and application +could be so efficacious, water from a deeper source might work a +perfect cure; in short, that, if the poor afflicted princess could by +any means be made to cry, she might recover her lost gravity. + +"But how was this to be brought about? Therein lay all the difficulty. +The philosophers were not wise enough for this. To make the princess +cry was as impossible as to make her weigh. They sent for a +professional beggar; commanded him to prepare his most touching oracle +of woe; helped him, out of the court charade-box, to whatever he +wanted for dressing up, and promised great rewards in the event of his +success. But it was all in vain. She listened to the mendicant +artist's story, and gazed at his marvellous make-up, till she could +contain herself no longer, and went into the most undignified +contortions for relief, shrieking, positively screeching with +laughter. + +"When she had a little recovered herself, she ordered her attendants +to drive him away, and not give him a single copper; whereupon his +look of mortified discomfiture wrought her punishment and his revenge, +for it sent her into violent hysterics, from which she was with +difficulty recovered. + +"But so anxious was the king that the suggestion should have a fair +trial, that he put himself in a rage one day, and, rushing up to her +room, gave her an awful whipping. But not a tear would flow. She +looked grave, and her laughing sounded uncommonly like screaming--that +was all. The good old tyrant, though he put on his best gold +spectacles to look, could not discover the smallest cloud in the +serene blue of her eyes. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER IX.--PUT ME IN AGAIN. + +"It must have been about this time that the son of a king, who lived a +thousand miles from Lagobel, set out to look for the daughter of a +queen. He travelled far and wide, but as sure as he found a princess, +he found some fault with her. Of course he could not marry a mere +woman, however beautiful, and there was no princess to be found worthy +of him. Whether the prince was so near perfection that he had a right +to demand perfection itself, I cannot pretend to say. All I know is +that he was a fine, handsome, brave, generous, well-bred and +well-behaved youth, as all princes are. + +"In his wanderings he had come across some reports about our princess; +but as everybody said she was bewitched, he never dreamed that she +could bewitch him. For what indeed could a prince do with a princess +that had lost her gravity? Who could tell what she might not lose +next? She might lose her visibility; or her tangibility; or, in short, +the power of making impressions upon the radical sensorium; so that he +should never be able to tell whether she was dead or alive. Of course +he made no further inquiries about her. + +"One day he lost sight of his retinue in a great forest. These forests +are very useful in delivering princes from their courtiers, like a +sieve that keeps back the bran. Then the princes get away to follow +their fortunes. In this they have the advantage of the princesses, who +are forced to marry before they have had a bit of fun. I wish our +princesses got lost in a forest sometimes. + +"One lovely evening, after wandering about for many days, he found +that he was approaching the outskirts of this forest; for the trees +had got so thin that he could see the sunset through them; and he soon +came upon a kind of heath. Next he came upon signs of human +neighbourhood; but by this time it was getting late, and there was +nobody in the fields to direct him. + +"After travelling for another hour, his horse, quite worn out with +long labour and lack of food, fell, and was unable to rise again. So +he continued his journey on foot. At length he entered another +wood--not a wild forest, but a civilized wood, through which a +footpath led him to the side of a lake. Along this path the prince +pursued his way through the gathering darkness. Suddenly he paused, +and listened. Strange sounds came across the water. It was, in fact, +the princess laughing. Now, there was something odd in her laugh, as I +have already hinted; for the hatching of a real hearty laugh, requires +the incubation of gravity; and, perhaps, this was how the prince +mistook the laughter for screaming. Looking over the lake, he saw +something white in the water; and, in an instant, he had torn off his +tunic, kicked off his sandals, and plunged in. He soon reached the +white object, and found that it was a woman. There was not light +enough to show that she was a princess, but quite enough to show that +she was a lady, for it does not want much light to see that. + +"Now, I cannot tell how it came about;--whether she pretended to be +drowning, or whether he frightened her, or caught her so as to +embarrass her; but certainly he brought her to shore in a fashion +ignominious to a swimmer, and more nearly drowned than she had ever +expected to be; for the water had got into her throat as often as she +had tried to speak. + +"At the place to which he bore her, the bank was only a foot or two +above the water; so he gave her a strong lift out of the water, to lay +her on the bank. But, her gravitation ceasing the moment she left the +water, away she went, up into the air, scolding and screaming: + +"'You naughty, _naughty_, NAUGHTY, NAUGHTY man!' + +"No one had ever succeeded in putting her into a passion before.--When +the prince saw her ascend, he thought he must have been bewitched, and +have mistaken a great swan for a lady. But the princess caught hold of +the topmost cone upon a lofty fir. This came off; but she caught at +another; and, in fact, stopped herself by gathering cones, dropping +them as the stalks gave way. The prince, meantime, stood in the water, +forgetting to get out. But the princess disappearing, he scrambled on +shore, and went in the direction of the tree. He found her climbing +down one of the branches, towards the stem. But in the darkness of the +wood, the prince continued in some bewilderment as to what the +phenomenon could be; until, reaching the ground, and seeing him +standing there, she caught hold of him, and said: + +"I'll tell papa.' + +"'Oh, no, you won't!' rejoined the prince. + +"'Yes, I will,' she persisted. 'What business had you to pull me down +out of the water, and throw me to the bottom of the air? I never did +you any harm.' + +"'I am sure I did not mean to hurt you.' + +"'I don't believe you have any brains; and that is a worse loss than +your wretched gravity. I pity you.' + +"The prince now saw that he had come upon the bewitched princess, and +had already offended her. Before he could think what to say next, the +princess, giving a stamp with her foot that would have sent her aloft +again, but for the hold she had of his arm, said angrily: + +"'Put me up directly.' + +"'Put you up where, you beauty?' asked the prince. "He had fallen in +love with her, almost, already; for her anger made her more charming +than anyone else had ever beheld her; and, as far as he could see, +which certainly was not far, she had not a single fault about her, +except, of course, that she had no gravity. A prince, however, must be +incapable of judging of a princess by weight. The loveliness of a +foot, for instance, is hardly to be estimated by the depth of the +impression it can make in mud! + +"'Put you up where, you beauty?' said the prince. + +"'In the water, you stupid!' answered the princess. + +"'Come, then,' said the prince. + +"The condition of her dress, increasing her usual difficulty in +walking, compelled her to cling to him; and he could hardly persuade +himself that he was not in a delightful dream, notwithstanding the +torrent of musical abuse with which she overwhelmed him. The prince +being in no hurry, they reached the lake at quite another part, where +the bank was twenty-five feet high at least. When they stood at the +edge, the prince, turning towards the princess, said: + +"'How am I to put you in?' + +"'That is your business,' she answered, quite snappishly. 'You took me +out--put me in again.' + +"'Very well,' said the prince; and, catching her up in his arms, he +sprang with her from the rock. The princess had just time to give one +delighted shriek of laughter before the water closed over them. When +they came to the surface, the princess, for a moment or two, could not +even laugh, for she had gone down with such a rush, that it was with +difficulty that she recovered her breath. The moment they reached the +surface-- + +"'How do you like falling in?' said the prince. + +"After a few efforts, the princess panted out: + +"'Is that what you call _falling in_?' + +"'Yes,' answered the prince, 'I should think it a very tolerable +specimen.' + +"'It seemed to me like going up,' rejoined she. + +"'My feeling was certainly one of elevation, too,' the prince +conceded. + +"The princess did not appear to understand him, for she retorted his +first question: + +'"How do _you_ like falling in?' + +"'Beyond everything,' answered he; 'for I have fallen in with the only +perfect creature I ever saw.' + +"'No more of that: I am tired of it,' said the princess. + +"Perhaps she shared her father's aversion to punning. + +"'Don't you like falling in, then?' said the prince. + +"'It is the most delightful fun I ever had in my life,' answered +she. 'I never fell before. I wish I could learn. To think I am the +only person in my father's kingdom that can't fall!' + +"Here the poor princess looked almost sad. + +"'I shall be most happy to fall in with you any time you like.' said +the prince, devotedly. + +"'Thank you. I don't know. Perhaps it would not be proper. But I don't +care. At all events, as we have fallen in, let us have a swim +together.' + +"'With all my heart,' said the prince. + +"And away they went, swimming, and diving, and floating, until at last +they heard cries along the shore, and saw lights glancing in all +directions. It was now quite late, and there was no moon. + +"'I must go home,' said the princess. 'I am very sorry, for this is +delightful.' + +"'So am I,' responded the prince. 'But I am glad I haven't a home to +go to--at least, I don't exactly know where it is.' + +"'I wish I hadn't one either,' rejoined the princess; 'it is so +stupid! I have a great mind,' she continued, 'to play them all a +trick. Why couldn't they leave me alone? They won't trust me in the +lake for a single night! You see where that green light is burning? +That is the window of my room. Now if you would just swim there with +me very quietly, and when we are all but under the balcony, give me +such a push--_up_ you call it--as you did a little while ago, I should +be able to catch hold of the balcony, and get in at the window; and +then they may look for me till to-morrow morning!' + +"'With more obedience than pleasure,' said the prince, gallantly; and +away they swam, very gently. + +"'Will you be in the lake to-morrow-night?' the prince ventured to +ask. + +"'To be sure I will. I don't think so. Perhaps,'--was the princess's +somewhat strange answer. + +"But the prince was intelligent enough not to press her further; and +merely whispered, as he gave her the parting lift: 'Don't tell.' The +only answer the princess returned was a roguish look. She was already +a yard above his head. The look seemed to say: 'Never fear. It is too +good fun to spoil that way.' + +"So perfectly like other people had she been in the water, that even +yet the prince could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw her ascend +slowly, grasp the balcony, and disappear through the window. He +turned, almost expecting to see her still by his side. But he was +alone in the water. So he swam away quietly, and watched the lights +roving about the shore for hours after the princess was safe in her +chamber. As soon as they disappeared, he landed in search of his tunic +and sword, and, after some trouble, found them again. Then he made the +best of his way round the lake to the other side. There the wood was +wilder, and the shore steeper--rising more immediately towards the +mountains which surrounded the lake on all sides, and kept sending it +messages of silvery streams from morning to night, and all night +long. He soon found a spot whence he could see the green light in the +princess's room, and where, even in the broad daylight, he would be in +no danger of being discovered from the opposite shore. It was a sort +of cave in the rock, where he provided himself a bed of withered +leaves, and lay down too tired for hunger to keep him awake. All night +long he dreamed that he was swimming with the princess." + +"All that is very improper--to my mind," said Mrs. Cathcart. And she +glanced towards the place where Percy had deposited himself, as if she +were afraid of her boy's morals. + +But if she was anxious on that score, her fears must have been +dispersed the same moment by an indubitable snore from the youth, who +was in his favourite position--lying at full length on a couch. + +"You must remember all this is in Fairyland, aunt," said Adela, with a +smile. "Nobody does what papa and mamma would not like here. We must +not judge the people in fairy tales by precisely the same +conventionalities we have. They must be good after their own fashion." + +"Conventionalities! Humph!" said Mrs. Cathcart. + +"Besides, I don't think the princess was quite accountable," said I. + +"You should have made her so, then," rejoined my critic. + +"Oh! wait a little, madam," I replied. + +"I think," said the clergyman, "that Miss Cathcart's defence is very +tolerably sufficient; and, in my character of Master of the +Ceremonies, I order Mr. Smith to proceed." + +I made haste to do so, before Mrs. Cathcart should open a new battery. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER X.--LOOK AT THE MOON. + +"Early the next morning, the prince set out to look for something to +eat, which he soon found at a forester's hut, where for many following +days he was supplied with all that a brave prince could consider +necessary. And having plenty to keep him alive for the present, he +would not think of wants not yet in existence. Whenever Care intruded, +this prince always bowed him out in the most princely manner. + +"When he returned from his breakfast to his watch-cave, he saw the +princess already floating about in the lake, attended by the king and +queen--whom he knew by their crowns--and a great company in lovely +little boats, with canopies of all the colours of the rainbow, and +flags and streamers of a great many more. It was a very bright day, +and soon the prince, burned up with the heat, began to long for the +water and the cool princess. But he had to endure till the twilight; +for the boats had provisions on board, and it was not till the sun +went down, that the gay party began to vanish. Boat after boat drew +away to the shore, following that of the king and queen, till only +one, apparently the princess's own boat, remained. But she did not +want to go home even yet, and the prince thought he saw her order the +boat to the shore without her. At all events, it rowed away; and now, +of all the radiant company, only one white speck remained. Then the +prince began to sing. + +"And this was what he sang: + + "'Lady fair, + Swan-white, + Lift thine eyes, + Banish night + By the might + Of thine eyes. + + Snowy arms, + Oars of snow, + Oar her hither, + Plashing low + Soft and slow, + Oar her hither. + + Stream behind her + O'er the lake, + Radiant whiteness! + In her wake + Following, following for her sake, + Radiant whiteness! + + Cling about her, + Waters blue; + Part not from her, + But renew + Cold and true + Kisses round her. + + Lap me round, + Waters sad + That have left her; + Make me glad, + For ye had + Kissed her ere ye left her.' + +"Before he had finished his song, the princess was just under the +place where he sat, and looking up to find him. Her ears had led her +truly. + +"'Would you like a fall, princess?' said the prince, looking down. + +"'Ah! there you are! Yes, if you please, prince,' said the princess, +looking up. + +"'How do you know I am a prince, princess?' said the prince. + +"'Because you are a very nice young man, prince,' said the princess. + +"'Come up then, princess.' + +"'Fetch me, prince.' + +"The prince took off his scarf, then his sword-belt, then his tunic, +and tied them all together, and let them down. But the line was far +too short. He unwound his turban, and added it to the rest, when it +was all but long enough; and his purse completed it. The princess just +managed to lay hold of the knot of money, and was beside him in a +moment. This rock was much higher than the other, and the splash and +the dive were tremendous. The princess was in ecstasies of delight, +and their swim was delicious. + +"Night after night they met, and swam about in the dark clear lake; +where such was the prince's delight, that (whether the princess's way +of looking at things infected him, or he was actually getting +light-headed,) he often fancied that he was swimming in the sky +instead of the lake. But when he talked about being in heaven, the +princess laughed at him dreadfully. + +"When the moon came, she brought them fresh pleasure. Everything +looked strange and new in her light, with an old, withered, yet +unfading newness. When the moon was nearly full, one of their great +delights was, to dive deep in the water, and then, turning round, look +up through it at the great blot of light close above them, shimmering +and trembling and wavering, spreading and contracting, seeming to melt +away, and again grow solid. Then they would shoot up through it; and +lo! there was the moon, far off, clear and steady and cold, and very +lovely, at the bottom of a deeper and bluer lake than theirs, as the +princess said. + +"The prince soon found out that while in the water the princess was +very like other people. And besides this, she was not so forward in +her questions, or pert in her replies at sea as on shore. Neither did +she laugh so much; and when she did laugh, it was more gently. She +seemed altogether more modest and maidenly in the water than out of +it. But when the prince, who had really fallen in love when he fell in +the lake, began to talk to her about love, she always turned her head +towards him and laughed. After a while she began to look puzzled, as +if she were trying to understand what he meant, but could +not--revealing a notion that he meant something. But as soon as ever +she left the lake, she was so altered, that the prince said to +himself: 'If I marry her, I see no help for it; we must turn merman +and mermaid, and go out to sea at once.' + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER XI.--HISS! + +"The princess's pleasure in the lake had grown to a passion, and she +could scarcely bear to be out of it for an hour. Imagine then her +consternation, when, diving with the prince one night, a sudden +suspicion seized her, that the lake was not so deep as it used to +be. The prince could not imagine what had happened. She shot to the +surface, and, without a word, swam at full speed towards the higher +side of the lake. He followed, begging to know if she was ill, or what +was the matter. She never turned her head, or took the smallest notice +of his question. Arrived at the shore, she coasted the rocks, with +minute inspection. But she was not able to come to a conclusion, for +the moon was very small, and so she could not see well. She turned +therefore and swam home, without saying a word to explain her conduct +to the prince, of whose presence she seemed no longer conscious. He +withdrew to his cave, in great perplexity and distress. + +"Next day she made many observations, which, alas! strengthened her +fears. She saw that the banks were too dry; and that the grass on the +shore, and the trailing plants on the rocks, were withering away. She +caused marks to be made along the borders, and examined them, day +after day, in all directions of the wind; till at last the horrible +idea became a certain fact--that the surface of the lake was slowly +sinking. + +"The poor princess nearly went out of the little mind she had. It was +awful to her, to see the lake which she loved more than any living +thing, lie dying before her eyes. It sank away, slowly vanishing. The +tops of rocks that had never been seen before, began to appear far +down in the clear water. Before long, they were dry in the sun. It was +fearful to think of the mud that would lie baking and festering, full +of lovely creatures dying, and ugly creatures coming to life, like the +unmaking of a world. And how hot the sun would be without any lake! +She could not bear to swim in it, and began to pine away. Her life +seemed bound up with it; and ever as the lake sank, she pined. People +said she would not live an hour after the lake was gone.--But she +never cried. + +"Proclamation was made to all the kingdom, that whosoever should +discover the cause of the lake's decrease, would be rewarded after a +princely fashion. Hum-Drum and Kopy-Keck applied themselves to their +physics and metaphysics; but in vain. No one came forward to suggest a +cause. + +"Now the fact was, that the old princess was at the root of the +mischief. When she heard that her niece found more pleasure in the +water, than any one else had out of it, she went into a rage, and +cursed herself for her want of foresight. + +"'But,' said she, 'I will soon set all right. The king and the people +shall die of thirst; their brains shall boil and frizzle in their +skulls, before I shall lose my revenge.' + +"And she laughed a ferocious laugh, that made the hairs on the back of +her black cat stand erect with terror. + +"Then she went to an old chest in the room, and opening it, took out +what looked like a piece of dried sea-weed. This she threw into a tub +of water. Then she threw some powder into the water, and stirred it +with her bare arm, muttering over it words of hideous sound, and yet +more hideous import. Then she set the tub aside, and took from the +chest a huge bunch of a hundred rusty keys, that clattered in her +shaking hands. Then she sat down and proceeded to oil them all. Before +she had finished, out from the tub, the water of which had kept on a +slow motion ever since she had ceased stirring it, came the head and +half the body of a huge grey snake. But the witch did not look +round. It grew out of the tub, waving itself backwards and forwards +with a slow horizontal motion, till it reached the princess, when it +laid its head upon her shoulder, and gave a low hiss in her ear. She +started--but with joy; and seeing the head resting on her shoulder, +drew it towards her and kissed it. Then she drew it all out of the +tub, and wound it round her body. It was one of those dreadful +creatures which few have ever beheld--the White Snakes of Darkness. + +"Then she took the keys and went down into her cellar; and as she +unlocked the door, she said to herself, + +"'This _is_ worth living for!' + +"Locking the door behind her, she descended a few steps into the +cellar, and crossing it, unlocked another door into a dark, narrow +passage. This also she locked behind her, and descended a few more +steps. If any one had followed the witch-princess, he would have heard +her unlock exactly one hundred doors, and descend a few steps after +unlocking each. When she had unlocked the last, she entered a vast +cave, the roof of which was supported by huge natural pillars of +rock. Now this roof was the underside of the bottom of the lake. + +"She then untwined the snake from her body, and held it by the tail, +high above her. The hideous creature stretched up its head towards the +roof of the cavern, which it was just able to reach. It then began to +move its head backwards and forwards, with a slow oscillating motion, +as if looking for something. At the same moment, the witch began to +walk round and round the cavern, coming nearer to the centre every +circuit; while the head of the snake described the same path over the +roof that she did over the floor, for she held it up still. And still +it kept slowly oscillating. Round and round the cavern they went thus, +ever lessening the circuit, till, at last, the snake made a sudden +dart, and clung fast to the roof with its mouth. 'That's right, my +beauty!' cried the princess; 'drain it dry.' + +"She let it go, left it hanging, and sat down on a great stone, with +her black cat, who had followed her all round the cave, by her +side. Then she began to knit, and mutter awful words. The snake hung +like a huge leech, sucking at the stone; the cat stood with his back +arched, and his tail like a piece of cable, looking up at the snake; +and the old woman sat and knitted and muttered. Seven days and seven +nights they sat thus; when suddenly the serpent dropped from the roof, +as if exhausted, and shrivelled up like a piece of dried sea-weed on +the floor. The witch started to her feet, picked it up, put it in her +pocket, and looked up at the roof. One drop of water was trembling on +the spot where the snake had been sucking. As soon as she saw that, +she turned and fled, followed by her cat. She shut the door in a +terrible hurry, locked it, and having muttered some frightful words, +sped to the next, which also she locked and muttered over; and so with +all the hundred doors, till she arrived in her own cellar. There she +sat down on the floor ready to faint, but listening with malicious +delight to the rushing of the water, which she could hear distinctly +through all the hundred doors. + +"But this was not enough. Now that she had tasted revenge, she lost +her patience. Without further measures, the lake would be too long in +disappearing. So the next night, with the last shred of the dying old +moon rising, she took some of the water in which she had revived the +snake, put it in a bottle, and set out, accompanied by her cat. Ere +she returned, she had made the entire circuit of the lake, muttering +fearful words as she crossed every stream, and casting into it some of +the water out of her bottle. When she had finished the circuit, she +muttered yet again, and flung a handful of the water towards the +moon. Every spring in the country ceased to throb and bubble, dying +away like the pulse of a dying man. The next day there was no sound of +falling water to be heard along the borders of the lake. The very +courses were dry; and the mountains showed no silvery streaks down +their dark sides. And not alone had the fountains of mother Earth +ceased to flow; for all the babies throughout the country were crying +dreadfully--only without tears. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER XII.--WHERE IS THE PRINCE? + +"Never since the night when the princess left him so abruptly, had the +prince had a single interview with her. He had seen her once or twice +in the lake; but as far as he could discover, she had not been in it +any more at night. He had sat and sung, and looked in vain for his +Nereid; while she, like a true Nereid, was wasting away with her lake, +sinking as it sank, withering as it dried. When at length he +discovered the change that was taking place in the level of the water, +he was in great alarm and perplexity. He could not tell whether the +lake was dying because the lady had forsaken it; or whether the lady +would not come because the lake had begun to sink. But he resolved to +know so much at least. + +"He disguised himself, and, going to the palace, requested to see the +lord chamberlain. His appearance at once gained his request; and the +lord chamberlain being a man of some insight, perceived that there was +more in the prince's solicitation than met the ear. He felt likewise +that no one could tell whence a solution of the present difficulties +might arise. So he granted the prince's prayer to be made shoe-black +to the princess. It was rather knowing in the prince to request such +an easy post; for the princess could not possibly soil as many shoes +as other princesses. + +"He soon learned all that could be told about the princess. He went +nearly distracted; but, after roaming about the lake for days, and +diving in every depth that remained, all that he could do was to put +an extra-polish on the dainty pair of boots that was never called for. + +"For the princess kept her room, with the curtains drawn to shut out +the dying lake. But she could not shut it out of her mind for a +moment. It haunted her imagination so that she felt as if her lake +were her soul, drying up within her, first to become mud, and then +madness and death. She brooded over the change, with all its dreadful +accompaniments, till she was nearly out of her mind. As for the +prince, she had forgotten him. However much she had enjoyed his +company in the water, she did not care for him without it. But she +seemed to have forgotten her father and mother too. + +"The lake went on sinking. Small slimy spots began to appear, which +glittered steadily amidst the changeful shine of the water. These grew +to broad patches of mud, which widened and spread, with rocks here and +there, and floundering fishes and crawling eels swarming about. The +people went everywhere catching these, and looking for anything that +might have been dropped into the water. + +"At length the lake was all but gone; only a few of the deepest pools +remaining unexhausted. + +"It happened one day that a party of youngsters found themselves on +the brink of one of these pools, in the very centre of the lake. It +was a rocky basin of considerable depth. Looking in, they saw at the +bottom something that shone yellow in the sun. A little boy jumped in +and dived for it. It was a plate of gold, covered with writing. They +carried it to the king. + +"On one side of it stood these words: + + 'Death alone from death can save. + Love is death, and so is brave. + Love can fill the deepest grave. + Love loves on beneath the wave.' + +"Now this was enigmatical enough to the king and courtiers. But the +reverse of the plate explained it a little. Its contents amounted to +this: + +"_If the lake should disappear, they must find the hole through which +the water ran. But it would be useless to try to stop it by any +ordinary means. There was but one effectual mode.--The body of a +living man could alone stanch the flow. The man must give himself of +his own will; and the lake must take his life as it filled. Otherwise +the offering would be of no avail. If the nation could not provide one +hero, it was time it should perish._ + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER XIII.--HERE I AM. + +"This was a very disheartening revelation to the king. Not that he was +unwilling to sacrifice a subject, but that he was hopeless of finding +a man willing to sacrifice himself. No time could be lost, however; +for the princess was lying motionless on her bed, and taking no +nourishment but lake-water, which was now none of the best. Therefore +the king caused the contents of the wonderful plate of gold to be +published throughout the country. + +"No one, however, came forward. + +"The prince, having gone several days' journey into the forest, to +consult a hermit whom he had met there on his way to Lagobel, knew +nothing of the oracle till his return. + +"When he had acquainted himself with all the particulars, he sat down +and thought. + +"'She would die, if I didn't do it; and life would be nothing to me +without her: so I shall lose nothing by doing it. And life will be as +pleasant to her as ever, for she will soon forget me, and there will +be so much more beauty and happiness in the world. To be sure I shall +not see it.'--Here the poor prince gave a sigh.--'How lovely the lake +will be in the moonlight, with that glorious creature sporting in it +like a wild goddess! It is rather hard to be drowned by inches, +though. Let me see--that will be seventy inches of me to drown.'--Here +he tried to laugh, but could not.--'The longer the better, however,' +he resumed; 'for can I not bargain that the princess shall be beside +me all the time? So I shall see her once more, kiss her perhaps, who +knows?--and die looking in her eyes. It will be no death. At least I +shall not feel it. And to see the lake filling for the beauty +again!--All right! I am ready.' + +"He kissed the princess's boot, laid it down, and hurried to the +king's apartment. But feeling, as he went, that anything sentimental +would be disagreeable, he resolved to carry off the whole affair with +burlesque. So he knocked at the door of the king's counting-house, +where it was all but a capital crime to disturb him. When the king +heard the knock, he started up, and opened the door in a rage. Seeing +only the shoe-black, he drew his sword. This, I am sorry to say, was +his usual mode of asserting his regality, when he thought his dignity +was in danger. But the prince was not in the least alarmed. + +"'Please your majesty, I'm your butler,' said he. + +"'My butler! you lying rascal? What do you mean?' + +"'I mean, I will cork your big bottle.' + +"'Is the fellow mad?' bawled the king, raising the point of his sword. + +"'I will put a stopper--plug--what you call it, in your leaky lake, +grand monarch,' said the prince. + +"The king was in such a rage, that before he could speak he had time +to cool, and to reflect that it would be great waste to kill the only +man who was willing to be useful in the present emergency, seeing that +in the end the insolent fellow would be as dead as if he had died by +his majesty's own hand. + +"'Oh!' said he at last, putting up his sword with difficulty--it was +so long; 'I am obliged to you, you young fool! Take a glass of wine?' + +"'No, thank you,' replied the prince. + +"'Very well,' said the king. 'Would you like to run and see your +parents before you make your experiment?' + +"'No, thank you,' said the prince. + +"'Then we will go and look for the hole at once,' said his majesty, +and proceeded to call some attendants. + +"'Stop, please your majesty; I have a condition to make,' interposed +the prince. + +"'What!' exclaimed the king; 'a condition! and with me! How dare you?' + +"'As you please,' said the prince coolly. 'I wish your majesty good +morning.' + +"'You wretch! I will have you put in a sack, and stuck in the hole.' + +"'Very well, your majesty,' replied the prince, becoming a little more +respectful, lest the wrath of the king should deprive him of the +pleasure of dying for the princess. 'But what good will that do your +majesty? Please to remember that the oracle says the victim must offer +himself.' + +"'Well, you _have_ offered yourself,' retorted the king. + +"'Yes, upon one condition.' + +"'Condition again!' roared the king, once more drawing his sword. +'Begone! Somebody else will be glad enough to take the honour off your +shoulders.' + +"'Your majesty knows it will not be easy to get one to take my place.' + +"'Well, what is your condition?' growled the king, feeling that the +prince was right. + +"'Only this,' replied the prince: 'that, as I must on no account die +before I am fairly drowned, and the waiting will be rather wearisome, +the princess, your daughter, shall go with me, feed me with her own +hands, and look at me now and then, to comfort me; for you must +confess it is rather hard. As soon as the water is up to my eyes, she +may go and be happy, and forget her poor shoe-black.' + +"Here the prince's voice faltered, and he very nearly grew +sentimental, in spite of his resolutions. + +"'Why didn't you tell me before what your condition was? Such a fuss +about nothing!' exclaimed the king. + +"'Do you grant it?' persisted the prince. + +"'I do,' replied the king. + +"'Very well. I am ready.' + +"'Go and have some dinner, then, while I set my people to find the +place.' + +"The king ordered out his guards, and gave directions to the officers +to find the hole in the lake at once. So the bed of the lake was +marked out in divisions, and thoroughly examined; and in an hour or +so, the hole was discovered. It was in the middle of a stone, near the +centre of the lake, in the very pool where the golden plate had been +found. It was a three-cornered hole, of no great size. There was water +all round the stone, but none was flowing through the hole. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER XIV.--THIS IS VERY KIND OF YOU. + +"The prince went to dress for the occasion, for he was resolved to die +like a prince. + +"When the princess heard that a man had offered to die for her, she +was so transported that she jumped off the bed, feeble as she was, and +danced about the room for joy. She did not care who the man was; that +was nothing to her. The hole wanted stopping; and if only a man would +do, why, take one. In an hour or two more, everything was ready. Her +maid dressed her in haste, and they carried her to the side of the +lake. When she saw it, she shrieked, and covered her face with her +hands. They bore her across to the stone, where they had already +placed a little boat for her. The water was not deep enough to float +it, but they hoped it would be, before long. They laid her on +cushions, placed in the boat wines and fruits and other nice things, +and stretched a canopy over all. + +"In a few minutes, the prince appeared. The princess recognized him at +once; but did not think it worth while to acknowledge him. + +"'Here I am,' said the prince. 'Put me in.' + +"'They told me it was a shoe-black,' said the princess. + +"'So I am,' said the prince. 'I blacked your little boots three times +a day, because they were all I could get of you. Put me in.' + +"The courtiers did not resent his bluntness, except by saying to each +other, that he was taking it out in impudence. + +"But how was he to be put in? The golden plate contained no +instructions on this point. The prince looked at the hole, and saw but +one way. He put both his legs into it, sitting on the stone, and, +stooping forward, covered the two corners that remained open, with his +two hands. In this uncomfortable position he resolved to abide his +fate, and, turning to the people, said: + +"'Now you can go.' + +"The king had already gone home to dinner. + +"'Now you can go,' repeated the princess after him, like a parrot. + +"The people obeyed her, and went. + +"Presently a little wave flowed over the stone, and wetted one of the +prince's knees. But he did not mind it much. He began to sing, and the +song he sang was this: + + "'As a world that has no well, + Darkly bright in forest-dell; + As a world without the gleam + Of the downward-going stream; + As a world without the glance + Of the ocean's fair expanse; + As a world where never rain + Glittered on the sunny plain; + Such, my heart, thy world would be, + If no love did flow in thee. + + "'As a world without the sound + Of the rivulets under ground; + Or the bubbling of the spring + Out of darkness wandering; + Or the mighty rush and flowing + Of the river's downward going; + Or the music-showers that drop + On the outspread beech's top; + Or the ocean's mighty voice, + When his lifted waves rejoice; + Such, my soul, thy world would be, + If no love did sing in thee. + + "'Lady, keep thy world's delight; + Keep the waters in thy sight. + Love hath made me strong to go, + For thy sake, to realms below, + Where the water's shine and hum + Through the darkness never come: + Let, I pray, one thought of me + Spring, a little well, in thee; + Lest thy loveless soul be found + Like a dry and thirsty ground.' + +"'Sing again, prince. It makes it less tedious,' said the princess. + +"But the prince was too much overcome to sing any more. And a long +pause followed. + +"'This is very kind of you, prince,' said the princess at last, quite +coolly, as she lay in the boat with her eyes shut. + +"'I am sorry I can't return the compliment,' thought the prince; 'but +you are worth dying for after all.' + +"Again a wavelet, and another, and another, flowed over the stone, and +wetted both the prince's knees thoroughly; but he did not speak or +move. Two--three--four hours passed in this way, the princess +apparently fast asleep, and the prince very patient. But he was much +disappointed in his position, for he had none of the consolation he +had hoped for. + +"At last he could bear it no longer. + +"'Princess!' said he. + +"But at the moment, up started the princess, crying, + +"'I'm afloat! I'm afloat!' + +"And the little boat bumped against the stone. + +"'Princess!' repeated the prince, encouraged by seeing her wide awake, +and looking eagerly at the water. + +"'Well?' said she, without once looking round. + +"'Your papa promised that you should look at me; and you haven't +looked at me once.' + +"'Did he? Then I suppose I must. But I am so sleepy!' + +"'Sleep then, darling, and don't mind me,' said the poor prince. + +"'Really, you are very good,' replied the princess. 'I think I will go +to sleep again.' + +"'Just give me a glass of wine and a biscuit, first,' said the prince +very humbly. + +"'With all my heart,' said the princess, and gaped as she said it. + +"She got the wine and the biscuit, however; and, coming nearer with +them, + +"'Why, prince,' she said, 'you don't look well! Are you sure you don't +mind it?' + +"'Not a bit,' answered he, feeling very faint indeed. 'Only, I shall +die before it is of any use to you, unless I have something to eat.' + +"'There, then!' said she, holding out the wine to him. + +"'Ah! you must feed me. I dare not move my hands. The water would run +away directly.' + +"'Good gracious!' said the princess; and she began at once to feed him +with bits of biscuit, and sips of wine. + +"As she fed him, he contrived to kiss the tips of her fingers now and +then. She did not seem to mind it, one way or the other. But the +prince felt better. + +"'Now, for your own sake, princess,' said he, 'I cannot let you go to +sleep. You must sit and look at me, else I shall not be able to keep +up.' + +"'Well, I will do anything I can to oblige you,' answered she, with +condescension; and, sitting down, she did look at him, and kept +looking at him with wonderful steadiness, considering all things. + +"The sun went down, and the moon came up; and, gush after gush, the +waters were flowing over the rock. They were up to the prince's waist +now. + +"'Why can't we go and have a swim?' said the princess. 'There seems to +be water enough just about here.' + +"'I shall never swim more,' said the prince. + +"'Oh! I forgot,' said the princess, and was silent. + +"So the water grew and grew, and rose up and up on the prince. And the +princess sat and looked at him. She fed him now and then. The night +wore on. The waters rose and rose. The moon rose likewise, higher and +higher, and shone full on the face of the dying prince. The water was +up to his neck. + +"'Will you kiss me, princess?' said he feebly at last; for the fun was +all out of him now. + +"'Yes, I will,' answered the princess; and kissed him with a long, +sweet, cold kiss. + +"'Now,' said he, with a sigh of content, 'I die happy.' + +"He did not speak again. The princess gave him some wine for the last +time: he was past eating. Then she sat down again, and looked at +him. The water rose and rose. It touched his chin. It touched his +lower lip. It touched between his lips. He shut them hard to keep it +out. The princess began to feel strange. It touched his upper lip. He +breathed through his nostrils. The princess looked wild. It covered +his nostrils. Her eyes looked scared, and shone strange in the +moonlight. His head fell back; the water closed over it; and the +bubbles of his last breath bubbled up through the water. The princess +gave a shriek, and sprang into the lake. + +"She laid hold first of one leg, then of the other, and pulled and +tugged, but she could not move either. She stopped to take breath, and +that made her think that he could not get any breath. She was frantic. +She got hold of him, and held his head above the water, which was +possible now his hands were no longer on the hole. But it was of no +use, for he was past breathing. + +"Love and water brought back all her strength. She got under the +water, and pulled and pulled with her whole might, till, at last, she +got one leg out. The other easily followed. How she got him into the +boat she never could tell; but when she did, she fainted away. Coming +to herself, she seized the oars, kept herself steady as best she +could; and rowed and rowed, though she had never rowed before. Round +rocks, and over shallows, and through mud, she rowed, till she got to +the landing-stairs of the palace. By this time her people were on the +shore, for they had heard her shriek. She made them carry the prince +to her own room, and lay him in her bed, and light a fire, and send +for the doctors. + +"'But the lake, your Highness!' said the Chamberlain, who, roused by +the noise, came in, in his night-cap. + +"'Go and drown yourself in it!' said she. + +"This was the last rudeness of which the princess was ever guilty; and +one must allow that she had good cause to feel provoked with the lord +chamberlain. + +"Had it been the king himself, he would have fared no better. But both +he and the queen were fast asleep. And the chamberlain went back to +his bed. So the princess and her old nurse were left with the prince. +Somehow, the doctors never came. But the old nurse was a wise woman, +and knew what to do. + +"They tried everything for a long time without success. The princess +was nearly distracted between hope and fear, but she tried on and on, +one thing after another, and everything over and over again. + +"At last, when they had all but given it up, just as the sun rose, the +prince opened his eyes. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER XV.--LOOK AT THE RAIN! + +"The princess burst into a passion of tears, and _fell_ on the floor. +There she lay for an hour, and her tears never ceased. All the pent-up +crying of her life was spent now. And a rain came on, such as had +never been seen in that country. The sun shone all the time, and the +great drops, which fell straight to the earth, shone likewise. The +palace was in the heart of a rainbow. It was a rain of rubies, and +sapphires, and emeralds, and topazes. The torrents poured from the +mountains like molten gold; and if it had not been for its +subterraneous outlet, the lake would have overflowed and inundated the +country. It was full from shore to shore. + +"But the princess did not heed the lake. She lay on the floor and +wept. And this rain within doors was far more wonderful than the rain +out of doors. For when it abated a little, and she proceeded to rise, +she found, to her astonishment, that she could not. At length, after +many efforts, she succeeded in getting upon her feet. But she tumbled +down again directly. Hearing her fall, her old nurse uttered a yell of +delight, and ran to her, screaming: + +"'My darling child! She's found her gravity!' + +"'Oh! that's it, is it?' said the princess, rubbing her shoulder and +her knee alternately. 'I consider it very unpleasant. I feel as if I +should be crushed to pieces.' + +"'Hurrah!' cried the prince, from the bed. 'If you're all right, +princess, so am I. How's the lake?' + +"'Brimful,' answered the nurse. + +"'Then we're all jolly.' + +"'That we are, indeed!' answered the princess, sobbing. + +"And there was rejoicing all over the country that rainy day. Even the +babies forgot their past troubles, and danced and crowed amazingly. +And the king told stories, and the queen listened to them. And he +divided the money in his box, and she the honey in her pot, to all the +children. And there was such jubilation as was never heard of before. + +"Of course the prince and princess were betrothed at once. But the +princess had to learn to walk, before they could be married with any +propriety. And this was not so easy, at her time of life, for she +could walk no more than a baby. She was always falling down and +hurting herself. + +"'Is this the gravity you used to make so much of?' said she, one day, +to the prince. 'For my part, I was a great deal more comfortable +without it.' + +"'No, no; that's not it. This is it,' replied the prince, as he took +her up, and carried her about like a baby, kissing her all the time. +'This is gravity.' + +"'That's better,' said she. 'I don't mind that so much.' + +"And she smiled the sweetest, loveliest smile in the prince's face. +And she gave him one little kiss, in return for all his; and he +thought them overpaid, for he was beside himself with delight. I fear +she complained of her gravity more than once after this, +notwithstanding. + +"It was a long time before she got reconciled to walking. But the pain +of learning it, was quite counterbalanced by two things, either of +which would have been sufficient consolation. The first was, that the +prince himself was her teacher; and the second, that she could tumble +into the lake as often as she pleased. Still, she preferred to have +the prince jump in with her; and the splash they made before, was +nothing to the splash they made now. + +"The lake never sank again. In process of time, it wore the roof of +the cavern quite through, and was twice as deep as before. + +"The only revenge the princess took upon her aunt, was to tread pretty +hard on her gouty toe, the next time she saw her. But she was sorry +for it the very next day, when she heard that the water had undermined +her house, and that it had fallen in the night, burying her in its +ruins; whence no one ever ventured to dig up her body. There she lies +to this day. + +"So the prince and princess lived and were happy; and had crowns of +gold, and clothes of cloth, and shoes of leather, and children of boys +and girls, not one of whom was ever known, on the most critical +occasion, to lose the smallest atom of his or her due proportion of +gravity." + + * * * * * + +"Bravo!" + +"Capital!" + +"Very good indeed!" + +"Quite a success!" + +cried my complimentary friends. + +"I don't think the princess could have rowed, though--without gravity, +you know," said the schoolmaster. + +"But she did," said Adela. "I won't have my uncle found fault with. It +is a very funny, and a very pretty story." + +"What is the moral of it?" drawled Mrs. Cathcart, with the first +syllable of _moral_ very long and very gentle. + +"That you need not be afraid of ill-natured aunts, though they are +witches," said Adela. + +"No, my dear; that's not it," I said. "It is, that you need not mind +forgetting your poor relations. No harm will come of it in the end." + +"I think the moral is," said the doctor, "that no girl is worth +anything till she has cried a little." + +Adela gave him a quick glance, and then cast her eyes down. Whether he +had looked at her I don't know. But I should think not.--Neither the +clergyman nor his wife had made any remark. I turned to them. + +"I am afraid you do not approve of my poor story," I said. + +"On the contrary," replied Mr. Armstrong, "I think there is a great +deal of meaning in it, to those who can see through its fairy-gates. +What do you think of it, my dear?" + +"I was so pleased with the earnest parts of it, that the fun jarred +upon me a little, I confess," said Mrs. Armstrong. "But I daresay that +was silly." + +"I think it was, my dear. But you can afford to be silly sometimes, in +a good cause." + +"You might have given us the wedding." said Mrs. Bloomfield. + +"I am an old bachelor, you see. I fear I don't give weddings their +due," I answered. "I don't care for them--in stories, I mean." + +"When will you dine with us again?" asked the colonel. + +"When you please," answered the curate. + +"To-morrow, then?" + +"Rather too soon that, is it not? Who is to read the next story?" + +"Why, you, of course," answered his brother. + +"I am at your service," rejoined Mr. Armstrong. "But to-morrow!" + +"Don't you think, Ralph," said his wife, "you could read better if you +followed your usual custom of dining early?" + +"I am sure I should, Lizzie. Don't you think, Colonel Cathcart, it +would be better to come in the evening, just after your dinner? I like +to dine early, and I am a great tea-drinker. If we might have a huge +tea-kettle on the fire, and tea-pot to correspond on the table, and I, +as I read my story, and the rest of the company, as they listen, might +help ourselves, I think it would be very jolly, and very homely." + +To this the colonel readily agreed. I heard the ladies whispering a +little, and the words--"Very considerate indeed!" from Mrs. +Bloomfield, reached my ears. Indeed I had thought that the colonel's +hospitality was making him forget his servants. And I could not help +laughing to think what Beeves's face would have been like, if he had +heard us all invited to dinner again, the next day. + +Whether Adela suspected us now, I do not know. She said nothing to +show it. + +Just before the doctor left, with his brother and sister, he went up +to her, and said, in a by-the-bye sort of way: + +"I am sorry to hear that you have not been quite well of late, Miss +Cathcart. You have been catching cold, I am afraid. Let me feel your +pulse." + +She gave him her wrist directly, saying: + +"I feel much better to-night, thank you." + +He stood--listening to the pulse, you would have said--his whole +attitude was so entirely that of one listening, with his eyes doing +nothing at all. He stood thus for a while, without consulting his +watch, looking as if the pulse had brought him into immediate +communication with the troubled heart itself, and he could feel every +flutter and effort which it made. Then he took out his watch and +counted. + +Now that his eyes were quite safe, I saw Adela's eyes steal up to his +face, and rest there for a half a minute with a reposeful expression. +I felt that there was something healing in the very presence and touch +of the man--so full was he of health and humanity; and I thought Adela +felt that he was a good man, and one to be trusted in. + +He gave her back her hand, as it were, so gently did he let it go, and +said: + +"I will send you something as soon as I get home, to take at once. I +presume you will go to bed soon?" + +"I will, if you think it best." + +And so Mr. Henry Armstrong was, without more ado, tacitly installed as +physician to Miss Adela Cathcart; and she seemed quite content with +the new arrangement. + + +Chapter VI. + +The bell. + + +Before the next meeting took place, namely, after breakfast on the +following morning, Percy having gone to visit the dogs, Mrs. Cathcart +addressed me: + +"I had something to say to my brother, Mr. Smith, but--" + +"And you wish to be alone with him? With all my heart," I said. + +"Not at all, Mr. Smith," she answered, with one of her smiles, which +were quite incomprehensible to me, until I hit upon the theory that +she kept a stock of them for general use, as stingy old ladies keep up +their half worn ribbons to make presents of to servant-maids; "I only +wanted to know, before I made a remark to the colonel, whether +Dr. Armstrong--" + +"Mr. Armstrong lays no claim to the rank of a physician." + +"So much the better for my argument. But is he a friend of yours, +Mr. Smith?" + +"Yes--of nearly a week's standing." + +"Oh, then, I am in no danger of hurting your feelings." + +"I don't know that," thought I, but I did not say it. + +"Well, Colonel Cathcart--excuse the liberty I am taking--but surely +you do not mean to dismiss Dr. Wade, and give a young man like that +the charge of your daughter's health at such a crisis." + +"Dr. Wade is dismissed already, Jane. He did her no more good than any +old woman might have done." + +"But such a young man!" + +"Not so very young," I ventured to say. "He is thirty at least." + +But the colonel was angry with her interference; for, an impetuous man +always, he had become irritable of late. + +"Jane," he said, "is a man less likely to be delicate because he is +young? Or does a man always become more refined as he grows older? For +my part--" and here his opposition to his unpleasant sister-in-law +possibly made him say more than he would otherwise have conceded--"I +have never seen a young man whose manners and behaviour I liked +better." + +"Much good that will do her! It will only hasten the mischief. You men +are so slow to take a hint, brother; and it is really too hard to be +forced to explain one's self always. Don't you see that, whether he +cures her or not, he will make her fall in love with him? And you +won't relish that, I fancy." + +"You won't relish it, at all events. But mayn't he fall in love with +her as well?" thought I; which thought, a certain expression in the +colonel's face kept me from uttering. I saw at once that his sister's +words had set a discord in the good man's music. He made no reply; and +Mrs. Cathcart saw that her arrow had gone to the feather. I saw what +she tried to conceal--the flash of success on her face. But she +presently extinguished it, and rose and left the room. I thought with +myself that such an arrangement would be the very best thing for +Adela; and that, if the blessedness of woman lies in any way in the +possession of true manhood, she, let her position in society be what +it might compared with his, and let her have all the earls in the +kingdom for uncles, would be a fortunate woman indeed, to marry such a +man as Harry Armstrong;--for so much was I attracted to the man, that +I already called him Harry, when I and Myself talked about him. But I +was concerned to see my old friend so much disturbed. I hoped however +that his good generous heart would right its own jarring chords before +long, and that he would not spoil a chance of Adela's recovery, +however slight, by any hasty measures founded on nothing better than +paternal jealousy. I thought, indeed, he had gone too far to make that +possible for some time; but I did not know how far his internal +discomfort might act upon his behaviour as host, and so interfere with +the homeliness of our story-club, upon which I depended not a little +for a portion of the desired result. + +The motive of Mrs. Cathcart's opposition was evident. She was a +partizan of Percy; for Adela was a very tolerable fortune, as people +say. + +These thoughts went through my mind, as thoughts do, in no time at +all; and when the lady had closed the door behind her with protracted +gentleness, I was ready to show my game; in which I really considered +my friend and myself partners. + +"Those women," I said, (women forgive me!), with a laugh which I trust +the colonel did not discover to be a forced one--"Those women are +always thinking about falling in love and that sort of foolery. I +wonder she isn't jealous of me now! Well, I do love Adela better than +any man will, for some weeks to come. I've been a sweetheart of hers +ever since she was in long clothes." Here I tried to laugh again, and, +to judge from the colonel, I verily believe I succeeded. The cloud +lightened on his face, as I made light of its cause, till at last he +laughed too. If I thought it all nonsense, why should he think it +earnest? So I turned the conversation to the club, about which I was +more concerned than about the love-making at present, seeing the +latter had positively no existence as yet. + +"Adela seemed quite to enjoy the reading last night," I said. + +"I thought she looked very grave," he answered. + +The good man had been watching her face all the time, I saw, and +evidently paying no heed to the story. I doubted if he was the better +judge for this--observing only _ab extra_, and without being in +sympathy with her feelings as moved by the tale. + +"Now that is just what I should have wished to see," I answered. +"We don't want her merry all at once. What we want is, that she +should take an interest in something. A grave face is a sign of +interest. It is all the world better than a listless face." + +"But what good can stories do in sickness?" + +"That depends on the origin of the sickness. My conviction is, that, +near or far off, in ourselves, or in our ancestors--say Adam and Eve, +for comprehension's sake--all our ailments have a moral cause. I think +that if we were all good, disease would, in the course of generations, +disappear utterly from the face of the earth." + +"That's just like one of your notions, old friend! Rather peculiar. +Mystical, is it not?" + +"But I meant to go on to say that, in Adela's case, I believe, from +conversation I have had with her, that the operation of mind on body +is far more immediate than that I have hinted at." + +"You cannot mean to imply," said my friend, in some alarm, that Adela +has anything upon her conscience?" + +"Certainly not. But there may be moral diseases that do not in the +least imply personal wrong or fault. They may themselves be +transmitted, for instance. Or even if such sprung wholly from present +physical causes, any help given to the mind would react on those +causes. Still more would the physical ill be influenced through the +mental, if the mind be the source of both. + +"Now from whatever cause, Adela is in a kind of moral atrophy, for she +cannot digest the food provided for her, so as to get any good of +it. Suppose a patient in a corresponding physical condition, should +show a relish for anything proposed to him, would you not take it for +a sign that that was just the thing to do him good? And we may accept +the interest Adela shows in any kind of mental pabulum provided for +her, as an analogous sign. It corresponds to relish, and is a ground +for expecting some benefit to follow--in a word, some nourishment of +the spiritual life. Relish may be called the digestion of the palate; +interest, the digestion of the inner ears; both significant of further +digestion to follow. The food thus relished may not be the best food; +and yet it may be the best for the patient, because she feels no +repugnance to it, and can digest and assimilate, as well as swallow +it. For my part, I believe in no cramming, bodily or mental. I think +nothing learned without interest, can be of the slightest after +benefit; and although the effort may comprise a moral good, it +involves considerable intellectual injury. All I have said applies +with still greater force to religious teaching, though that is not +definitely the question now." + +"Well, Smith, I can't talk philosophy like you; but what you say +sounds to me like sense. At all events, if Adela enjoys it, that is +enough for me. Will the young doctor tell stories too?" + +"I don't know. I fancy he _could_. But to-night we have his brother." + +"I shall make them welcome, anyhow." + +This was all I wanted of him; and now I was impatient for the evening, +and the clergyman's tale. The more I saw of him the better I liked +him, and felt the more interest in him. I went to church that same +day, and heard him read prayers, and liked him better still; so that I +was quite hungry for the story he was going to read to us. + +The evening came, and with it the company. Arrangements, similar to +those of the evening before, having been made, with some little +improvements, the colonel now occupying the middle place in the +half-circle, and the doctor seated, whether by chance or design, at +the corner farthest from the invalid's couch, the clergyman said, as +he rolled and unrolled the manuscript in his hand: + +"To explain how I came to write a story, the scene of which is in +Scotland, I may be allowed to inform the company that I spent a good +part of my boyhood in a town in Aberdeenshire, with my grandfather, +who was a thorough Scotchman. He had removed thither from the south, +where the name is indigenous; being indeed a descendant of that +Christy, whom his father, Johnie Armstrong, standing with the rope +about his neck, ready to be hanged--or murdered, as the ballad calls +it--apostrophizes in these words: + + 'And God be with thee, Christy, my son, + Where thou sits on thy nurse's knee! + But an' thou live this hundred year, + Thy father's better thou'lt never be.' + +But I beg your pardon, ladies and gentlemen all, for this has +positively nothing to do with the story. Only please to remember that +in those days it was quite respectable to be hanged." + +We all agreed to this with a profusion of corroboration, except the +colonel; who, I thought, winced a little. But presently our attention +was occupied with the story, thus announced: + +"_The Bell. A Sketch in Pen and Ink_." + +He read in a great, deep, musical voice, with a wealth of pathos in +it--always suppressed, yet almost too much for me in the more touching +portions of the story. + +"One interruption more," he said, before he began. "I fear you will +find it a sad story." + +And he looked at Adela. + +I believe that he had chosen the story on the homoeopathic principle. + +"I like sad stories," she answered; and he went on at once. + + "THE BELL. + + "A SKETCH IN PEN AND INK. + +"Elsie Scott had let her work fall on her knees, and her hands on her +work, and was looking out of the wide, low window of her room, which +was on one of the ground floors of the village street. Through a gap +in the household shrubbery of fuchsias and myrtles filling the +window-sill, one passing on the foot-pavement might get a momentary +glimpse of her pale face, lighted up with two blue eyes, over which some +inward trouble had spread a faint, gauze-like haziness. But almost +before her thoughts had had time to wander back to this trouble, a +shout of children's voices, at the other end of the street, reached +her ear. She listened a moment. A shadow of displeasure and pain +crossed her countenance; and rising hastily, she betook herself to an +inner apartment, and closed the door behind her. + +"Meantime the sounds drew nearer; and by and by, an old man, whose +strange appearance and dress showed that he had little capacity either +for good or evil, passed the window. His clothes were comfortable +enough in quality and condition, for they were the annual gift of a +benevolent lady in the neighbourhood; but, being made to accommodate +his taste, both known and traditional, they were somewhat peculiar in +cut and adornment. Both coat and trousers were of a dark grey cloth; +but the former, which, in its shape, partook of the military, had a +straight collar of yellow, and narrow cuffs of the same; while upon +both sleeves, about the place where a corporal wears his stripes, was +expressed, in the same yellow cloth, a somewhat singular device. It +was as close an imitation of a bell, with its tongue hanging out of +its mouth, as the tailor's skill could produce from a single piece of +cloth. The origin of the military cut of his coat was well known. His +preference for it arose in the time of the wars of the first Napoleon, +when the threatened invasion of the country caused the organization of +many volunteer regiments. The martial show and exercises captivated +the poor man's fancy; and from that time forward nothing pleased his +vanity, and consequently conciliated his good will more, than to style +him by his favourite title--the _Colonel_. But the badge on his arm +had a deeper origin, which will be partially manifest in the course of +the story--if story it can be called. It was, indeed, the baptism of +the fool, the outward and visible sign of his relation to the infinite +and unseen. His countenance, however, although the features were not +of any peculiarly low or animal type, showed no corresponding sign of +the consciousness of such a relation, being as vacant as human +countenance could well be. + +"The cause of Elsie's annoyance was that the fool was annoyed; for, he +was turned his rank into scorn, and assailed him with epithets hateful +to him. Although the most harmless of creatures when let alone, he was +dangerous when roused; and now he stooped repeatedly to pick up stones +and hurl them at his tormentors, who took care, while abusing him, to +keep at a considerable distance, lest he should get hold of them. +Amidst the sounds of derision that followed him, might be heard the +words frequently repeated--'_Come hame, come hame._' But in a few +minutes the noise ceased, either from the interference of some +friendly inhabitant, or that the boys grew weary, and departed in +search of other amusement. By and by, Elsie might be seen again at her +work in the window; but the cloud over her eyes was deeper, and her +whole face more sad. + +"Indeed, so much did the persecution of the poor man affect her, that +an onlooker would have been compelled to seek the cause in some yet +deeper sympathy than that commonly felt for the oppressed, even by +women. And such a sympathy existed, strange as it may seem, between +the beautiful girl (for many called her a _bonnie lassie_) and this +'tatter of humanity.' Nothing would have been farther from the +thoughts of those that knew them, than the supposition of any +correspondence or connection between them; yet this sympathy sprung in +part from a real similarity in their history and present condition. + +"All the facts that were known about _Feel Jock's_ origin were these: +that seventy years ago, a man who had gone with his horse and cart +some miles from the village, to fetch home a load of peat from a +desolate _moss_, had heard, while toiling along as rough a road on as +lonely a hill-side as any in Scotland, the cry of a child; and, +searching about, had found the infant, hardly wrapt in rags, and +untended, as if the earth herself had just given him birth,--that +desert moor, wide and dismal, broken and watery, the only bosom for +him to lie upon, and the cold, clear night-heaven his only covering. +The man had brought him home, and the parish had taken parish-care of +him. He had grown up, and proved what he now was--almost an idiot. +Many of the townspeople were kind to him, and employed him in fetching +water for them from the river and wells in the neighbourhood, paying +him for his trouble in victuals, or whisky, of which he was very +fond. He seldom spoke; and the sentences he could utter were few; yet +the tone, and even the words of his limited vocabulary, were +sufficient to express gratitude and some measure of love towards those +who were kind to him, and hatred of those who teased and insulted him. +He lived a life without aim, and apparently to no purpose; in this +resembling most of his more gifted fellow-men, who, with all the tools +and materials needful for the building of a noble mansion, are yet +content with a clay hut. + +"Elsie, on the contrary, had been born in a comfortable farmhouse, +amidst homeliness and abundance. But at a very early age, she had lost +both father and mother; not so early, however, but that she had faint +memories of warm soft times on her mother's bosom, and of refuge in +her mother's arms from the attacks of geese, and the pursuit of pigs. +Therefore, in after-times, when she looked forward to heaven, it was +as much a reverting to the old heavenly times of childhood and +mother's love, as an anticipation of something yet to be revealed. +Indeed, without some such memory, how should we ever picture to +ourselves a perfect rest? But sometimes it would seem as if the more a +heart was made capable of loving, the less it had to love; and poor +Elsie, in passing from a mother's to a brother's guardianship, felt a +change of spiritual temperature, too keen. He was not a bad man, or +incapable of benevolence when touched by the sight of want in anything +of which he would himself have felt the privation; but he was so +coarsely made, that only the purest animal necessities affected him; +and a hard word, or unfeeling speech, could never have reached the +quick of his nature through the hide that enclosed it. Elsie, on the +contrary, was excessively and painfully sensitive, as if her nature +constantly protended an invisible multitude of half-spiritual, +half-nervous antennae, which shrunk and trembled in every current of air +at all below their own temperature. The effect of this upon her behaviour +was such, that she was called odd; and the poor girl felt that she was +not like other people, yet could not help it. Her brother, too, +laughed at her without the slightest idea of the pain he occasioned, +or the remotest feeling of curiosity as to what the inward and +consistent causes of the outward abnormal condition might be. +Tenderness was the divine comforting she needed; and it was altogether +absent from her brother's character and behaviour. + +"Her neighbours looked on her with some interest, but they rather +shunned than courted her acquaintance; especially after the return of +certain nervous attacks, to which she had been subject in childhood, +and which were again brought on by the events I must relate. It is +curious how certain diseases repel, by a kind of awe, the sympathies +of the neighbours: as if, by the fact of being subject to them, the +patient were removed into another realm of existence, from which, like +the dead with the living, she can hold communion with those around her +only partially, and with a mixture of dread pervading the intercourse. +Thus some of the deepest, purest wells of spiritual life, are, like +those in old castles, choked up by the decay of the outer walls. But +what tended more than anything, perhaps, to keep up the painful unrest +of her soul (for the beauty of her character was evident in the fact, +that the irritation seldom reached her _mind_), was a circumstance at +which, in its present connection, some of my readers will smile, and +others feel a shudder corresponding in kind to that of Elsie. + +"Her brother was very fond of a rather small, but ferocious-looking +bull-dog, which followed close at his heels, wherever he went, with +hanging head and slouching gait, never leaping or racing about like +other dogs. When in the house, he always lay under his master's +chair. He seemed to dislike Elsie, and she felt an unspeakable +repugnance to him. Though she never mentioned her aversion, her +brother easily saw it by the way in which she avoided the animal; and +attributing it entirely to fear--which indeed had a great share in the +matter--he would cruelly aggravate it, by telling her stories of the +fierce hardihood and relentless persistency of this kind of animal. He +dared not yet further increase her terror by offering to set the +creature upon her, because it was doubtful whether he might be able to +restrain him; but the mental suffering which he occasioned by this +heartless conduct, and for which he had no sympathy, was as severe as +many bodily sufferings to which he would have been sorry to subject +her. Whenever the poor girl happened inadvertently to pass near the +dog, which was seldom, a low growl made her aware of his proximity, +and drove her to a quick retreat. He was, in fact, the animal +impersonation of the animal opposition which she had continually to +endure. Like chooses like; and the bull-dog _in_ her brother made +choice of the bull-dog _out of_ him for his companion. So her day was +one of shrinking fear and multiform discomfort. + +"But a nature capable of so much distress, must of necessity be +_capable_ of a corresponding amount of pleasure; and in her case this +was manifest in the fact, that sleep and the quiet of her own room +restored her wonderfully. If she was only let alone, a calm mood, +filled with images of pleasure, soon took possession of her mind. + +"Her acquaintance with the fool had commenced some ten years previous +to the time I write of, when she was quite a little girl, and had come +from the country with her brother, who, having taken a small farm +close to the town, preferred residing in the town to occupying the +farm-house, which was not comfortable. She looked at first with some +terror on his uncouth appearance, and with much wonderment on his +strange dress. This wonder was heightened by a conversation she +overheard one day in the street, between the fool and a little +pale-faced boy, who, approaching him respectfully, said, 'Weel, cornel!' +'Weel, laddie!' was the reply. 'Fat dis the wow say, cornel?' 'Come +hame, come hame!' answered the _colonel_, with both accent and +quantity heaped on the word _hame_. She heard no more, and knew not +what the little she had heard, meant. What the _wow_ could be, she had +no idea; only, as the years passed on, the strange word became in her +mind indescribably associated with the strange shape in yellow cloth +on his sleeves. Had she been a native of the town, she could not have +failed to know its import, so familiar was every one with it, although +the word did not belong to the local vocabulary; but, as it was, years +passed away before she discovered its meaning. And when, again and +again, the fool, attempting to convey his gratitude for some kindness +she had shown him, mumbled over the words--_'The wow o' Rivven--the +wow o' Rivven,'_ the wonder would return as to what could be the idea +associated with them in his mind, but she made no advance towards +their explanation. + +"That, however, which most attracted her to the old man, was his +persecution by the children. They were to him what the bull-dog was to +her--the constant source of irritation and annoyance. They could +hardly hurt him, nor did he appear to dread other injury from them +than insult, to which, fool though he was, he was keenly alive. Human +gad-flies that they were! they sometimes stung him beyond endurance, +and he would curse them in the impotence of his anger. Once or twice +Elsie had been so far carried beyond her constitutional timidity, by +sympathy for the distress of her friend, that she had gone out and +talked to the boys,--even scolded them, so that they slunk away +ashamed, and began to stand as much in dread of her as of the clutches +of their prey. So she, gentle and timid to excess, acquired among them +the reputation of a termagant. Popular opinion among children, as +among men, is often just, but as often very unjust; for the same +manifestations may proceed from opposite principles; and, therefore, +as indices to character, any mislead as often as enlighten. + +"Next door to the house in which Elsie resided, dwelt a tradesman and +his wife, who kept an indefinite sort of shop, in which various kinds +of goods were exposed to sale. Their youngest son was about the same +age as Elsie; and while they were rather more than children, and less +than young people, he spent many of his evenings with her, somewhat to +the loss of position in his classes at the parish school. They were, +indeed, much attached to each other; and, peculiarly constituted as +Elsie was, one may imagine what kind of heavenly messenger a companion +stronger than herself must have been to her. In fact, if she could +have framed the undefinable need of her child-like nature into an +articulate prayer, it would have been--'Give me some one to love me +stronger than I.' Any love was helpful, yes, in its degree, saving to +her poor troubled soul; but the hope, as they grew older together, +that the powerful, yet tender-hearted youth, really loved her, and +would one day make her his wife, was like the opening of heavenly eyes +of life and love in the hitherto blank and death-like face of her +existence. But nothing had been said of love, although they met and +parted like lovers. + +"Doubtless if the circles of their thought and feeling had continued +as now to intersect each other, there would have been no interruption +to their affection; but the time at length arrived when the old couple +seeing the rest of their family comfortably settled in life, resolved +to make a gentleman of the youngest; and so sent him from school to +college. The facilities existing in Scotland for providing a +professional training, enabled them to educate him as a surgeon. He +parted from Elsie with some regret; but, far less dependent on her +than she was on him, and full of the prospects of the future, he felt +none of that sinking at the heart which seemed to lay her whole nature +open to a fresh inroad of all the terrors and sorrows of her peculiar +existence. No correspondence took place between them. New pursuits and +relations, and the development of his tastes and judgments, entirely +altered the position of poor Elsie in his memory. Having been, during +their intercourse, far less of a man than she of a woman, he had no +definite idea of the place he had occupied in her regard; and in his +mind she receded into the background of the past, without his having +any idea that she would suffer thereby, or that he was unjust towards +her; while, in her thoughts, his image stood in the highest and +clearest relief. It was the centre-point from which and towards which +all lines radiated and converged; and although she could not but be +doubtful about the future, yet there was much hope mingled with her +doubts. + +"But when, at the close of two years, he visited his native village, +and she saw before her, instead of the homely youth who had left her +that winter evening, one who, to her inexperienced eyes, appeared a +finished gentleman, her heart sank within her, as if she had found +Nature herself false in her ripening processes, destroying the +beautiful promise of a former year by changing instead of developing +her creations. He spoke kindly to her, but not cordially. To her ear +the voice seemed to come from a great distance out of the past; and +while she looked upon him, that optical change passed over her vision, +which all have experienced after gazing abstractedly on any object for +a time: his form grew very small, and receded to an immeasurable +distance; till, her imagination mingling with the twilight haze of her +senses, she seemed to see him standing far off on a hill, with the +bright horizon of sunset for a back-ground to his clearly defined +figure. + +"She knew no more till she found herself in bed in the dark; and the +first message that reached her from the outer world, was the infernal +growl of the bull-dog from the room below. Next day she saw her lover +walking with two ladies, who would have thought it some degree of +condescension to speak to her; and he passed the house without once +looking towards it. + +"One who is sufficiently possessed by the demon of nervousness to be +glad of the magnetic influences of a friend's company in a public +promenade, or of a horse beneath him in passing through a churchyard, +will have some faint idea of how utterly exposed and defenceless poor +Elsie now felt on the crowded thoroughfare of life. And the +insensibility which had overtaken her, was not the ordinary swoon with +which Nature relieves the over-strained nerves, but the return of the +epileptic fits of her early childhood; and if the condition of the +poor girl had been pitiable before, it was tenfold more so now. Yet +she did not complain, but bore all in silence, though it was evident +that her health was giving way. But now, help came to her from a +strange quarter; though many might not be willing to accord the name +of help to that which rather hastened than retarded the progress of +her decline. + +"She had gone to spend a few of the summer days with a relative in the +country, some miles from her home, if home it could be called. One +evening, towards sunset, she went out for a solitary walk. Passing +from the little garden gate, she went along a bare country road for +some distance, and then, turning aside by a footpath through a thicket +of low trees, she came out in a lonely little churchyard on the +hill-side. Hardly knowing whether or not she had intended to go there, +she seated herself on a mound covered with long grass, one of +many. Before her stood the ruins of an old church which was taking +centuries to crumble. Little remained but the gable-wall, immensely +thick, and covered with ancient ivy. The rays of the setting sun fell +on a mound at its foot, not green like the rest, but of a rich, +red-brown in the rosy sunset, and evidently but newly heaped up. Her +eyes, too, rested upon it. Slowly the sun sank below the near horizon. + +"As the last brilliant point disappeared, the ivy darkened, and a wind +arose and shook all its leaves, making them look cold and troubled; +and to Elsie's ear came a low faint sound, as from a far-off bell. But +close beside her--and she started and shivered at the sound--rose a +deep, monotonous, almost sepulchral voice: '_Come hame, come hame! The +wow, the wow!_' + +"At once she understood the whole. She sat in the churchyard of the +ancient parish church of Ruthven; and when she lifted up her eyes, +there she saw, in the half-ruined belfry, the old bell, all but hidden +with ivy, which the passing wind had roused to utter one sleepy tone; +and there, beside her, stood the fool with the bell on his arm; and to +him and to her the _wow o' Rivven_ said, '_Come hame, come hame!_' Ah, +what did she want in the whole universe of God but a home? And though +the ground beneath was hard, and the sky overhead far and boundless, +and the hill-side lonely and companionless, yet somewhere within the +visible, and beyond these the outer surfaces of creation, there might +be a home for her; as round the wintry house the snows lie heaped up +cold and white and dreary all the long _forenight_, while within, +beyond the closed shutters, and giving no glimmer through the thick +stone walls, the fires are blazing joyously, and the voices and +laughter of young unfrozen children are heard, and nothing belongs to +winter but the grey hairs on the heads of the parents, within whose +warm hearts child-like voices are heard, and child-like thoughts move +to and fro. The kernel of winter itself is spring, or a sleeping +summer. + +"It was no wonder that the fool, cast out of the earth on a far more +desolate spot than this, should seek to return within her bosom at +this place of open doors, and should call it _home_. For surely the +surface of the earth had no home for him. The mound at the foot of the +gable contained the body of one who had shown him kindness. He had +followed the funeral that afternoon from the town, and had remained +behind with the bell. Indeed, it was his custom, though Elsie had not +known it, to follow every funeral going to this, his favourite +churchyard of Ruthven; and, possibly in imitation of its booming, for +it was still tolled at the funerals, he had given the old bell the +name of the _wow_, and had translated its monotonous clangour into the +articulate sounds--_come home, come home_. What precise meaning he +attached to the words, it is impossible to say; but it was evident +that the place possessed a strange attraction for him, drawing him +towards it by the cords of some spiritual magnetism. It is possible +that in the mind of the idiot there may have been some feeling about +this churchyard and bell, which, in the mind of another, would have +become a grand poetic thought; a feeling as if the ghostly old bell +hung at the church-door of the invisible world, and ever and anon rung +out joyous notes (though they sounded sad in the ears of the living), +calling to the children of the unseen to _come home, come home_.--She +sat for some time in silence; for the bell did not ring again, and the +fool spoke no more; till the dews began to fall, when she rose and +went home, followed by her companion, who passed the night in the +barn. + +"From that hour Elsie was furnished with a visual image of the rest +she sought; an image which, mingling with deeper and holier thoughts, +became, like the bow set in the cloud, the earthly pledge and sign of +the fulfilment of heavenly hopes. Often when the wintry fog of cold +discomfort and homelessness filled her soul, all at once the picture +of the little churchyard--with the old gable and belfry, and the +slanting sunlight steeping down to the very roots the long grass on +the graves--arose in the darkened chamber (_camera obscura_) of her +soul; and again she heard the faint AEolian sound of the bell, and the +voice of the prophet-fool who interpreted the oracle; and the inward +weariness was soothed by the promise of a long sleep. Who can tell how +many have been counted fools simply because they were prophets; or how +much of the madness in the world may be the utterance of thoughts true +and just, but belonging to a region differing from ours in its nature +and scenery! + +"But to Elsie looking out of her window came the mocking tones of the +idle boys who had chosen as the vehicle of their scorn the very words +which showed the relation of the fool to the eternal, and revealed in +him an element higher far than any yet developed in them. They turned +his glory into shame, like the enemies of David when they mocked the +would-be king. And the best in a man is often that which is most +condemned by those who have not attained to his goodness. The words, +however, even as repeated by the boys, had not solely awakened +indignation at the persecution of the old man: they had likewise +comforted her with the thought of the refuge that awaited both him and +her. + +"But the same evening a worse trial befell her. Again she sat near the +window, oppressed by the consciousness that her brother had come +in. He had gone up-stairs, and his dog had remained at the door, +exchanging surly compliments with some of his own kind; when the fool +came strolling past, and, I do not know from what cause, the dog flew +at him. Elsie heard his cry and looked up. Her fear of the brute +vanished in a moment before her sympathy for her friend. She darted +from the house, and rushed towards the dog to drag him off the +defenceless idiot, calling him by his name in a tone of anger and +dislike. He left the fool, and, springing at Elsie, seized her by the +arm above the elbow with such a gripe that, in the midst of her agony, +she fancied she heard the bone crack. But she uttered no cry, for the +most apprehensive are sometimes the most courageous. Just then, +however, her former lover was coming along the street, and, catching a +glimpse of what had happened, was on the spot in an instant, took the +dog by the throat with a gripe not inferior to his own, and having +thus compelled him to give up his hold, dashed him on the ground with +a force that almost stunned him, and then with a superadded kick sent +him away limping and howling; whereupon the fool, attacking him +furiously with a stick, would certainly have finished him, had not his +master descried his plight and come to his rescue. + +"Meantime the young surgeon had carried Elsie into the house; for, as +soon as she was rescued from the dog, she had fallen down in one of +her fits, which were becoming more and more frequent of themselves, +and little needed such a shock as this to increase their violence. He +was dressing her arm when she began to recover; and when she opened +her eyes, in a state of half-consciousness, the first object she +beheld, was his face bending over her. Re-calling nothing of what had +occurred, it seemed to her, in the dreamy condition in which the fit +had left her, the same face, unchanged, which had once shone in upon +her tardy spring-time, and promised to ripen it into summer. She +forgot that it had departed and left her in the wintry cold. And so +she uttered wild words of love and trust; and the youth, while stung +with remorse at his own neglect, was astonished to perceive the poetic +forms of beauty in which the soul of the uneducated maiden burst into +flower. But as her senses recovered themselves, the face gradually +changed to her, as if the slow alteration of two years had been +phantasmagorically compressed into a few moments; and the glow +departed from the maiden's thoughts and words, and her soul found +itself at the narrow window of the present, from which she could +behold but a dreary country.--From the street came the iambic cry of +the fool, 'Come hame, come hame." + +"Tycho Brahe, I think, is said to have kept a fool, who frequently sat +at his feet in his study, and to whose mutterings he used to listen in +the pauses of his own thought. The shining soul of the astronomer drew +forth the rainbow of harmony from the misty spray of words ascending +ever from the dark gulf into which the thoughts of the idiot were ever +falling. He beheld curious concurrences of words therein, and could +read strange meanings from them--sometimes even received wondrous +hints for the direction of celestial inquiry, from what, to any other, +and it may be to the fool himself, was but a ceaseless and aimless +babble. Such power lieth in words. It is not then to be wondered at, +that the sounds I have mentioned should fall on the ears of Elsie, at +such a moment, as a message from God himself. This then--all this +dreariness--was but a passing show like the rest, and there lay +somewhere for her a reality--a home. The tears burst up from her +oppressed heart. She received the message, and prepared to go home. +From that time her strength gradually sank, but her spirits as +steadily rose. + +"The strength of the fool, too, began to fail, for he was old. He bore +all the signs of age, even to the grey hairs, which betokened no +wisdom. But one cannot say what wisdom might be in him, or how far he +had not fought his own battle, and been victorious. Whether any notion +of a continuance of life and thought dwelt in his brain, it is +impossible to tell; but he seemed to have the idea that this was not +his home; and those who saw him gradually approaching his end, might +well anticipate for him a higher life in the world to come. He had +passed through this world without ever awakening to such a +consciousness of being, as is common to mankind. He had spent his +years like a weary dream through a long night--a strange, dismal, +unkindly dream; and now the morning was at hand. Often in his dream +had he listened with sleepy senses to the ringing of the bell, but +that bell would awake him at last. He was like a seed buried too deep +in the soil, to which, therefore, has never forced its way upwards to +the open air, never experienced the resurrection of the dead. But +seeds will grow ages after they have fallen into the earth; and, +indeed, with many kinds, and within some limits, the older the seed +before it germinates, the more plentiful is the fruit. And may it not +be believed of many human beings, that, the great Husbandman having +sown them like seeds in the soil of human affairs, there they lie +buried a life long; and only after the upturning of the soil by death, +reach a position in which the awakening of their aspiration and the +consequent growth become possible. Surely he has made nothing in vain. + +"A violent cold and cough brought him at last near to his end, and, +hearing that he was ill, Elsie ventured one bright spring day to go to +see him. When she entered the miserable room where he lay, he held out +his hand to her with something like a smile, and muttered feebly and +painfully, 'I'm gaein' to the wow, nae to come back again.' Elsie +could not restrain her tears; while the old man, looking fixedly at +her, though with meaningless eyes, muttered, for the last time, '_Come +hame! come hame!_' and sank into a lethargy, from which nothing could +rouse him, till, next morning, he was waked by friendly death from the +long sleep of this world's night. They bore him to his favourite +church-yard, and buried him within the site of the old church, below +his loved bell, which had ever been to him as the cuckoo-note of a +coming spring. Thus he at length obeyed its summons, and went home. + +"Elsie lingered till the first summer days lay warm on the land. +Several kind hearts in the village, hearing of her illness, visited +her and ministered to her. Wondering at her sweetness and patience, +they regretted they had not known her before. How much consolation +might not their kindness have imparted, and how much might not their +sympathy have strengthened her on her painful road! But they could not +long have delayed her going home. Nor, mentally constituted as she +was, would this have been at all to be desired. Indeed it was chiefly +the expectation of departure that quieted and soothed her tremulous +nature. It is true that a deep spring of hope and faith kept singing +on in her heart, but this alone, without the anticipation of speedy +release, could only have kept her mind at peace. It could not have +reached, at least for a long time, the border land between body and +mind, in which her disease lay. + +"One still night of summer, the nurse who watched by her bedside heard +her murmur through her sleep, 'I hear it: _come hame--come hame_. I'm +comin', I'm comin'--I'm gaein' hame to the wow, nae to come back.' She +awoke at the sound of her own words, and begged the nurse to convey to +her brother her last request, that she might be buried by the side of +the fool, within the old church of Ruthven. Then she turned her face +to the wall, and in the morning was found quiet and cold. She must +have died within a few minutes after her last words. She was buried +according to her request; and thus she, too, went home. + +"Side by side rest the aged fool and the young maiden; for the bell +called them, and they obeyed; and surely they found the fire burning +bright, and heard friendly voices, and felt sweet lips on theirs, in +the home to which they went. Surely both intellect and love were +waiting them there. + +"Still the old bell hangs in the old gable; and whenever another is +borne to the old churchyard, it keeps calling to those who are left +behind, with the same sad, but friendly and unchanging voice--_'Come +hame! come hame! come hame!'_" + +For a full minute, there was silence in the little company. I myself +dared not look up, but the movement of indistinct and cloudy white +over my undirected eyes, let me know that two or three, amongst them +Adela, were lifting their handkerchiefs to their faces. At length a +voice broke the silence. + +"How much of your affecting tale is true, Mr. Armstrong?" + +The voice belonged to Mrs. Cathcart. + +"I object to the question," said I. "I don't want to know. Suppose, +Mrs. Cathcart, I were to put this story-club, members, stories, and +all, into a book, how would any one like to have her real existence +questioned? It would at least imply that I had made a very bad +portrait of that one." + +The lady cast rather a frightened look at me, which I confess I was +not sorry to see. But the curate interposed. + +"What frightful sophistry, Mr. Smith!" Then turning to Mrs. Cathcart, +he continued: + +"I have not the slightest objection to answer your question, Mrs. +Cathcart; and if our friend Mr. Smith does not want to hear the +answer, I will wait till he stops his ears." + +He glanced to me, his black eyes twinkling with fun. I saw that it was +all he could do to keep from winking; but he did. + +"Oh no," I answered; "I will share what is going." + +"Well, then, the fool is a real character, in every point. But I +learned after I had written the sketch, that I had made one mistake. +He was in reality about seventeen, when he was found on the hill. The +bell is a real character too. Elsie is a creature of my own. So of +course are the brother and the dog." + +"I don't know whether to be glad or sorry that there was no Elsie," +said his wife. "But did you know the fool yourself?" + +"Perfectly well, and had a great respect for him. When a little boy, I +was quite proud of the way he behaved to me. He occasionally visited +the general persecution of the boys, upon any boy he chanced to meet +on the road; but as often as I met him, he walked quietly past me, +muttering '_Auntie's folk_!' or returning my greeting of _'A fine day, +Colonel!'_ with a grunted _'Ay!'_" + +"What did he mean by 'Auntie's folk?'" asked Mrs. Armstrong. + +"My grandmother was kind to him, and he always called her _Auntie_. I +cannot tell how the fancy originated; but certainly he knew all her +descendants somehow--a degree of intelligence not to have been +expected of him--and invariably murmured 'Auntie's folk,' as often as +he passed any of them on the road, as if to remind himself that these +were friends, or relations. Possibly he had lived with an aunt before +he was exposed on the moor." + +"Is _wow_ a word at all?" I asked. + +"If you look into Jamieson's Dictionary," said Armstrong, "as I have +done for the express purpose, you will find that the word is used +differently in different quarters of the country--chiefly, however, as +a verb. It means _to bark, to howl;_ likewise _to wave or beckon;_ +also _to woo, or make love to_. Any of these might be given as an +explanation of his word. But I do not think it had anything to do with +these meanings; nor was the word used, in that district, in either of +the last two senses, in my time at least. It was used, however, in the +meaning of _alas_--a form of _woe_ in fact; as _wow's me!_ But I +believe it was, in the fool's use, an attempt to reproduce the sound +which the bell made. If you repeat the word several times, resting on +the final _w_, and pausing between each repetition--_wow! wow! +wow!_--you will find that the sound is not at all unlike the tolling +of a funeral bell; and therefore the word is most probably an +onomatopoetic invention of the fool's own." + +Adela offered no remark upon the story, and I knew from her +countenance that she was too much affected to be inclined to speak. +Her eyes had that fixed, forward look, which, combined with haziness, +indicates deep emotion, while the curves of her mouth were nearly +straightened out by the compression of her lips. I had thought, while +the reader went on, that she could hardly fail to find in the story of +Elsie, some correspondence to her own condition and necessities: I now +believe that she had found that correspondence. More talk was not +desirable; and I was glad when, after a few attempts at ordinary +conversation, Mr. and Mrs. Bloomfield rose to take their leave, which +was accepted by the whole company as a signal for departure. + +"But stay," I interposed; "who is to read or tell next?" + +"Why, I will be revenged on Harry," said the clergyman. + +"That you can't," said the doctor; "for I have nothing to give you." + +"You don't mean to say you are going to jib?" + +"No. I don't say I won't read. In fact I have a story in my head, and +a bit of it on paper; but I positively can't read next time." + +"Will you oblige us with a story, Colonel?" said I. + +"My dear fellow, you know I never put pen to paper in my life, except +when I could not help it. I may tell you a story before it is all +over, but write one I cannot." + +"A tale that is told is the best tale of all," I said. "Shall we book +you for next time?" + +"No, no! not next time; positively not. My story must come of itself, +else I cannot tell it at all." + +"Well, there's nobody left but you, Mr. Bloomfield. So you can't get +rid of it." + +"I don't think I ever wrote what was worth calling a story; but I +don't mind reading you something of the sort which I have at home, on +one condition." + +"What is that?" + +"That nobody ask any questions about it." + +"Oh! certainly." + +"But my only reason is, that somehow I feel it would all come to +pieces if you did. It is nothing, as a story; but there are feelings +expressed in it, which were very strong in me when I wrote it, and +which I do not feel willing to talk about, although I have no +objection to having them thought about." + +"Well, that is settled. When shall we meet again?" + +"To-morrow, or the day after," said the colonel; "which you please." + +"Oh! the day after, if I may have a word in it," said the doctor. "I +shall be very busy to-morrow--and we mustn't crowd remedies either, +you know." + +The close of the sentence was addressed to me only. The rest of the +company had taken leave, and were already at the door, when he made +the last remark. He now came up to his patient, felt her pulse, and +put the question, + +"How have you slept the last two nights?" + +"Better, thank you." + +"And do you feel refreshed when you wake?" + +"More so than for some time." + +"I won't give you anything to-night.--Good night." + +"Good night. Thank you." + +This was all that passed between them. Jealousy, with the six eyes of +Colonel, Mrs., and Percy Cathcart, was intent upon the pair during the +brief conversation. And I thought Adela perceived the fact. + + + +Chapter VII. + +The schoolmaster's story. + + +I was walking up the street the next day, when, finding I was passing +the Grammar-school, and knowing there was nothing going on there now, +I thought I should not be intruding if I dropped in upon the +schoolmaster and his wife, and had a little chat with them. I already +counted them friends; for I felt that however different our training +and lives might have been, we all meant the same thing now, and that +is the true bond of fellowship. I found Mr. Bloomfield reading to his +wife--a novel, too. Evidently he intended to make the most of this +individual holiday, by making it as unlike a work-day as possible. + +"I see you are enjoying yourselves," I said. "It's a shame to break in +upon you." + +"We are delighted to see you. Your interruption will only postpone a +good thing to a better," said the kind-hearted schoolmaster, laying +down his book. "Will you take a pipe?" + +"With pleasure--but not here, surely?" + +"Oh! we smoke everywhere in holiday-time." + +"You enjoy your holiday, I can see." + +"I should think so. I don't believe one of the boys delights in a +holiday quite as heartily as I do. You must not imagine I don't enjoy +my work, though." + +"Not in the least. Earnest work breeds earnest play. But you must find +the labour wearisome at times." + +"I confess I have felt it such. I have said to myself sometimes: 'Am I +to go on for ever teaching boys Latin grammar, till I wish there had +never been a Latin nation to leave such an incubus upon the bosom of +after ages?' Then I would remind myself, that, under cover of grammar +and geography, and all the other _farce_-meat (as the word ought to be +written and pronounced), I put something better into my pupils; +something that I loved myself, and cared to give to them. But I often +ask myself to what it all goes.--I learn to love my boys. I kill in +them all the bad I can. I nourish in them all the good I can. I send +them across the borders of manhood--and they leave me, and most likely +I hear nothing more of them. And I say to myself: 'My life is like a +wind. It blows and will cease.' But something says in reply: 'Wouldst +thou not be one of God's winds, content to blow, and scatter the rain +and dew, and shake the plants into fresh life, and then pass away and +know nothing of what thou hast done?' And I answer: 'Yes, Lord."' + +"You are not a wind; you are a poet, Mr. Bloomfield," I said, with +emotion. + +"One of the speechless ones, then," he returned, with a smile that +showed plainly enough that the speechless longed for utterance. It was +such a smile as would, upon the face of a child, wile anything out of +you. Surely God, who needs no wiles to make him give what one is ready +to receive, will let him sing some day, to his heart's content! And +me, too, O Lord, I pray. + +"What a pleasure it must be to you now, to have such a man as +Mr. Armstrong for your curate! He will be a brother to you," I said, +as soon as I could speak. + +"Mr. Smith, I cannot tell you what he is to me already. He is doing +what I would fain have done--what was denied to me." + +"How do you mean?" + +"I studied for the church. But I aimed too high. My heart burned +within me, but my powers were small. I wanted to relight the ancient +lamp, but my rush-light would not kindle it. My friends saw no light; +they only smelt burning: I was heterodox. I hesitated, I feared, I +yielded, I withdrew. To this day, I do not know whether I did right or +wrong. But I am honoured yet in being allowed to teach. And if at the +last I have the faintest 'Well done' from the Master, I shall be +satisfied." + +Mrs. Bloomfield was gently weeping; partly from regret, as I judged, +that her husband was not in the position she would have given him, +partly from delight in his manly goodness. A watery film stood in the +schoolmaster's eyes, and his wise gentle face was irradiated with the +light of a far-off morning, whose dawn was visible to his hope. + +"The world is the better for you at least, Mr. Bloomfield," I said. "I +wish some more of us were as sure as you of helping on the daily +Creation, which is quite as certain a fact as that of old; and is even +more important to us, than that recorded in the book of Genesis. It is +not great battles alone that build up the world's history, nor great +poems alone that make the generations grow. There is a still small +rain from heaven that has more to do with the blessedness of nature +and of human nature, than the mightiest earthquake, or the loveliest +rainbow." + +"I do comfort myself," he answered, "at this Christmas-time, and for +the whole year, with the thought that, after all, the world was saved +by a child.--But that brings me to think of a little trouble I am in, +Mr. Smith. The only paper I have, at all fit for reading to-morrow +night, is much too short to occupy the evening. What is to be done?" + +"Oh! we can talk about it." + +"That is just what I could not bear. It is rather an odd composition, +I fear; but whether it be worth anything or not, I cannot help having +a great affection for it." + +"Then it is true, I presume?" + +"There again! That is just one of the questions I don't want to +answer. I quite sympathized with you last night in not wishing to know +how much of Mr. Armstrong's story was true. Even if wholly fictitious, +a good story is always true. But there are things which one would have +no right to invent, which would be worth nothing if they were +invented, from the very circumstance of their origin in the brain, and +not in the world. The very beauty of them demands that they should be +fact; or, if not, that they should not be told--sent out poor +unclothed spirits into the world before a body of fact has been +prepared for them. But I have always found it impossible to define the +kinds of stories I mean. The nearest I can come to it is this: If the +force of the lesson depends on the story being a fact, it must not be +told except it is a fact. Then again, there are true things that one +would be shy of telling, if he thought they would be attributed to +himself. Now this story of mine is made up of fiction and fact both. +And I fear that if I were called upon to take it to pieces, it would +lose the force of any little truth it possesses, besides exposing me +to what I would gladly avoid. Indeed I fear I ought not to read it at +all." + +"You are amongst friends, you know, Mr. Bloomfield." + +"Entirely?" he asked, with a half comic expression. + +"Well," I answered, laughing, "any exception that may exist, is hardly +worth considering, and indeed ought to be thankfully accepted, as +tending to wholesomeness. Neither vinegar nor mustard would be +desirable as food, you know; yet--" + +"I understand you. I am ashamed of having made such a fuss about +nothing. I will do my best, I assure you." + +I fear that the fastidiousness of the good man will not be excuse +enough for the introduction of such a long preamble to a story for +which only a few will in the least care. But the said preamble +happening to touch on some interesting subjects, I thought it well to +record it. As to the story itself, there are some remarks of Balzac in +the introduction to one of his, that would well apply to the +schoolmaster's. They are to the effect that some stories which have +nothing in them as stories, yet fill one with an interest both gentle +and profound, if they are read in the mood that is exactly fitted for +their just reception. + +Mr. Bloomfield conducted me to the door. + +"I hope you will not think me a grumbler," he said; "I should not like +your disapprobation, Mr. Smith." + +"You do me great honour," I said, honestly. "Believe me there is no +danger of that. I understand and sympathize with you entirely." + +"My love of approbation is large," he said, tapping the bump referred +to with his forefinger. "Excuse it and me too." + +"There is no need, my dear friend," I said, "if I may call you such." + +His answer was a warm squeeze of the hand, with which we parted. + +As I returned home, I met Henry Armstrong, mounted on a bay mare of a +far different sort from what a sportsman would consider a doctor +justified in using for his purposes. In fact she was a thorough +hunter; no beauty certainly, with her ewe-neck, drooping tail, and +white face and stocking; but she had an eye at once gentle and wild as +that of a savage angel, if my reader will condescend to dream for a +moment of such an anomaly; while her hind quarters were power itself, +and her foreleg was flung right out from the shoulder with a gesture +not of work but of delight; the step itself being entirely one of +work,--long in proportion to its height. The lines of her fore and +hind-quarters converged so much, that there was hardly more than room +for the saddle between them. I had never seen such action. Altogether, +although not much of a hunting man, the motion of the creature gave me +such a sense of power and joy, that I longed to be scouring the fields +with her under me. It was a sunshiny day, with a keen cold air, and a +thin sprinkling of snow; and Harry looked so radiant with health, that +one could easily believe he had health to convey, if not to bestow. He +stopped and inquired after his patient. + +"Could you not get her to go out with you, Mr. Smith?" he said. + +"Would that be safe, Mr. Henry?" + +"Perfectly safe, if she is willing to go; not otherwise. Get her to go +willingly for ten minutes, and see if she is not the better for it. +What I want is to make the blood go quicker and more plentifully +through her brain. She has not fever enough. She does not live fast +enough." + +"I will try," I said. "Have you been far to-day?" + +"Just come out. You might tell that by the mare. You should see her +three hours after this." + +And he patted her neck as if he loved her--as I am sure he did--and +trotted gently away. + +When I came up to the gate, Beeves was standing at it. + +"A nice gentleman that, sir!" said he. + +"He is, Beeves. I quite agree with you." + +"And rides a good mare, sir; and rides as well as any man in the +country. I never see him leave home in a hurry. Always goes gently +out, and comes gently in. What has gone between, you may see by her +skin when she comes home." + +"Does he hunt, Beeves?" + +"I believe not, sir; except the fox crosses him in one of his +rounds. Then if he is heading anywhere in his direction, they say +doctor and mare go at it like mad. He's got two more in his stable, +better horses to look at; but that's the one to go." + +"I wonder how he affords such animals." + +"They say he has a way of buying them lame, and a wonderful knack of +setting them up again. They all go, anyhow." + +"Will you say to your mistress, that I should like very much if she +would come to me here." + +Beeves stared, but said, "Yes, sir," and went in. I was now standing +in front of the house, doubtful of the reception Adela would give my +message, but judging that curiosity would aid my desire. I was right. +Beeves came back with the message that his mistress would join me in a +few minutes. In a quarter of an hour she came, wrapt in furs. She was +very pale, but her eye was brighter than usual, and it did not shrink +from the cold glitter of the snow. She put her arm in mine, and we +walked for ten minutes along the dry gravel walks, chatting +cheerfully, about anything and nothing. + +"Now you must go in," I said. + +"Not yet, surely, uncle. By the bye, do you think it was right of me +to come out?" + +"Mr. Henry Armstrong said you might." + +She did not reply, but I thought a slight rose-colour tinged her +cheek. + +"But he said you must not be out more than ten minutes." + +"Well, I suppose I must do as I am told." + +And she turned at once, and went up the stair to the door, almost as +lightly as any other girl of her age. + +There was some progress, plainly enough. But was that a rose-tinge I +had seen on her cheek or not? + +The next evening, after tea, we arranged ourselves much as on the last +occasion; and Mr. Bloomfield, taking a neat manuscript from his +pocket, and evidently restraining himself from apology and +explanation, although as evidently nervous about the whole proceeding, +and jealous of his own presumption, began to read as follows. + +His voice trembled as he read, and his wife's face was a shade or two +paler than usual. + + "BIRTH, DREAMING, AND DEATH. + +"In a little room, scantily furnished, lighted, not from the window, +for it was dark without, and the shutters were closed, but from the +peaked flame of a small, clear-burning lamp, sat a young man, with his +back to the lamp and his face to the fire. No book or paper on the +table indicated labour just forsaken; nor could one tell from his +eyes, in which the light had all retreated inwards, whether his +consciousness was absorbed in thought, or reverie only. The window +curtains, which scarcely concealed the shutters, were of coarse +texture, but of brilliant scarlet--for he loved bright colours; and +the faint reflection they threw on his pale, thin face, made it look +more delicate than it would have seemed in pure daylight. Two or three +bookshelves, suspended by cords from a nail in the wall, contained a +collection of books, poverty-stricken as to numbers, with but few to +fill up the chronological gap between the Greek New Testament and +stray volumes of the poets of the present century. But his love for +the souls of his individual books was the stronger that there was no +possibility of its degenerating into avarice for the bodies or +outsides whose aggregate constitutes the piece of house-furniture +called a library. + +"Some years before, the young man (my story is so short, and calls in +so few personages, that I need not give him a name) had aspired, under +the influence of religious and sympathetic feeling, to be a clergyman; +but Providence, either in the form of poverty, or of theological +difficulty, had prevented his prosecuting his studies to that end. And +now he was only a village schoolmaster, nor likely to advance +further. I have said _only_ a village schoolmaster; but is it not +better to be a teacher _of_ babes than a preacher _to_ men, at any +time; not to speak of those troublous times of transition, wherein a +difference of degree must so often assume the appearance of a +difference of kind? That man is more happy--I will not say more +blessed--who, loving boys and girls, is loved and revered by them, +than he who, ministering unto men and women, is compelled to pour his +words into the filter of religious suspicion, whence the water is +allowed to pass away unheeded, and only the residuum is retained for +the analysis of ignorant party-spirit. + +"He had married a simple village girl, in whose eyes he was nobler +than the noblest--to whom he was the mirror, in which the real forms +of all things around were reflected. Who dares pity my poor village +schoolmaster? I fling his pity away. Had he not found in her love the +verdict of God, that he was worth loving? Did he not in her possess +the eternal and unchangeable? Were not her eyes openings through which +he looked into the great depths that could not be measured or +represented? She was his public, his society, his critic. He found in +her the heaven of his rest. God gave unto him immortality, and he was +glad. For his ambition, it had died of its own mortality. He read the +words of Jesus, and the words of great prophets whom he has sent; and +learned that the wind-tossed anemone is a word of God as real and true +as the unbending oak beneath which it grows--that reality is an +absolute existence precluding degrees. If his mind was, as his room, +scantily furnished, it was yet lofty; if his light was small, it was +brilliant. God lived, and he lived. Perhaps the highest moral height +which a man can reach, and at the same time the most difficult of +attainment, is the willingness to be _nothing_ relatively, so that he +attain that positive excellence which the original conditions of his +being render not merely possible, but imperative. It is nothing to a +man to be greater or less than another--to be esteemed or otherwise by +the public or private world in which he moves. Does he, or does he +not, behold and love and live the unchangeable, the essential, the +divine? This he can only do according as God has made him. He can +behold and understand God in the least degree, as well as in the +greatest, only by the godlike within him; and he that loves thus the +good and great has no room, no thought, no necessity for comparison +and difference. The truth satisfies him. He lives in its +absoluteness. God makes the glow-worm as well as the star; the light +in both is divine. If mine be an earth-star to gladden the wayside, I +must cultivate humbly and rejoicingly its green earth-glow, and not +seek to blanch it to the whiteness of the stars that lie in the fields +of blue. For to deny God in my own being is to cease to behold him in +any. God and man can meet only by the man's becoming that which God +meant him to be. Then he enters into the house of life, which is +greater than the house of fame. It is better to be a child in a green +field, than a knight of many orders in a state ceremonial. + +"All night long he had sat there, and morning was drawing nigh. He has +not heard the busy wind all night, heaping up snow against the house, +which will make him start at the ghostly face of the world when at +length he opens the shutters, and it stares upon him so white. For up +in a little room above, white-curtained, like the great earth without, +there has been a storm, too, half the night--moanings and prayers--and +some forbidden tears; but now, at length, it is over; and through the +portals of two mouths instead of one, flows and ebbs the tide of the +great air-sea which feeds the life of man. With the sorrow of the +mother, the new life is purchased for the child; our very being is +redeemed from nothingness with the pains of a death of which we know +nothing. + +"An hour has gone by since the watcher below has been delivered from +the fear and doubt that held him. He has seen the mother and the +child--the first she has given to life and him--and has returned to +his lonely room, quiet and glad. + +"But not long did he sit thus before thoughts of doubt awoke in his +mind. He remembered his scanty income, and the somewhat feeble health +of his wife. One or two small debts he had contracted, seemed +absolutely to press on his bosom; and the newborn child--'oh! how +doubly welcome,' he thought, 'if I were but half as rich again as I +am!'--brought with it, as its own love, so its own care. The dogs of +need, that so often hunt us up to heaven, seemed hard upon his heels; +and he prayed to God with fervour; and as he prayed he fell asleep in +his chair, and as he slept he dreamed. The fire and the lamp burned on +as before, but threw no rays into his soul; yet now, for the first +time, he seemed to become aware of the storm without; for his dream +was as follows:-- + +"He lay in his bed, and listened to the howling of the wintry wind. He +trembled at the thought of the pitiless cold, and turned to sleep +again, when he thought he heard a feeble knocking at the door. He rose +in haste, and went down with a light. As he opened the door, the wind, +entering with a gust of frosty particles, blew out his candle; but he +found it unnecessary, for the grey dawn had come. Looking out, he saw +nothing at first; but a second look, turned downwards, showed him a +little half-frozen child, who looked quietly, but beseechingly, in his +face. His hair was filled with drifted snow, and his little hands and +cheeks were blue with cold. The heart of the schoolmaster swelled to +bursting with the spring-flood of love and pity that rose up within +it. He lifted the child to his bosom, and carried him into the house; +where, in the dream's incongruity, he found a fire blazing in the room +in which he now slept. The child said never a word. He set him by the +fire, and made haste to get hot water, and put him in a warm bath. He +never doubted that this was a stray orphan who had wandered to him for +protection, and he felt that he could not part with him again; even +though the train of his previous troubles and doubts once more passed +through the mind of the dreamer, and there seemed no answer to his +perplexities for the lack of that cheap thing, gold--yea, silver. But +when he had undressed and bathed the little orphan, and having dried +him on his knees, set him down to reach something warm to wrap him in, +the boy suddenly looked up in his face, as if revived, and said with a +heavenly smile, 'I am the child Jesus.' 'The child Jesus!' said the +dreamer, astonished. 'Thou art like any other child.' 'No, do not say +so,' returned the boy; 'but say, _Any other child is like me_.' And +the child and the dream slowly faded away; and he awoke with these +words sounding in his heart--'Whosoever shall receiveth one of such +children in my name, receiveth me; and whosoever shall receive me, +receiveth not me, but him that sent me.' It was the voice of God +saying to him: 'Thou wouldst receive the child whom I sent thee out of +the cold, stormy night; receive the new child out of the cold waste +into the warm human house, as the door by which it can enter God's +house, its home. If better could be done for it, or for thee, would I +have sent it hither? Through thy love, my little one must learn my +love and be blessed. And thou shall not keep it without thy reward. +For thy necessities--in thy little house, is there not yet room? in +thy barrel, is there not yet meal? and thy purse is not empty quite. +Thou canst not eat more than a mouthful at once. I have made thee +so. Is it any trouble to me to take care of thee? Only I prefer to +feed thee from my own hand, and not from thy store.'And the +schoolmaster sprang up in joy, ran upstairs, kissed his wife, and +clasped the baby in his arms in the name of the child Jesus. And in +that embrace, he knew that he received God to his heart. Soon, with a +tender, beaming face, he was wading through the snow to the +school-house, where he spent a happy day amidst the rosy faces and +bright eyes of his boys and girls. These, likewise, he loved the more +dearly and joyfully for that dream, and those words in his heart; so +that, amidst their true child-faces, (all going well with them, as not +unfrequently happened in his schoolroom), he felt as if all the +elements of Paradise were gathered around him, and knew that he was +God's child, doing God's work. + +"But while that dream was passing through the soul of the husband, +another visited the wife, as she lay in the faintness and trembling +joy of the new motherhood. For although she that has been mother +before, is not the less a new mother to the new child, her former +relation not covering with its wings the fresh bird in the nest of her +bosom, yet there must be a peculiar delight in the thoughts and +feelings that come with the first-born.--As she lay half in a sleep, +half in a faint, with the vapours of a gentle delirium floating +through her brain, without losing the sense of existence she lost the +consciousness of its form, and thought she lay, not a young mother in +her bed, but a nosegay of wild flowers in a basket, crushed, flattened +and half-withered. With her in the basket lay other bunches of +flowers, whose odours, some rare as well as rich, revealed to her the +sad contrast in which she was placed. Beside her lay a cluster of +delicately curved, faintly tinged, tea-scented roses; while she was +only blue hyacinth bells, pale primroses, amethyst anemones, closed +blood-coloured daisies, purple violets, and one sweet-scented, pure +white orchis. The basket lay on the counter of a well-known little +shop in the village, waiting for purchasers. By and by her own husband +entered the shop, and approached the basket to choose a nosegay. 'Ah!' +thought she, 'will he choose me? How dreadful if he should not, and I +should be left lying here, while he takes another! But how should he +choose me? They are all so beautiful; and even my scent is nearly +gone. And he cannot know that it is I lying here. Alas! alas!' But as +she thought thus, she felt his hand clasp her, heard the ransom-money +fall, and felt that she was pressed to his face and lips, as he passed +from the shop. He _had_ chosen her; he _had_ known her. She opened her +eyes: her husband's kiss had awakened her. She did not speak, but +looked up thankfully in his eyes, as if he had, in fact, like one of +the old knights, delivered her from the transformation of some evil +magic, by the counter-enchantment of a kiss, and restored her from a +half-withered nosegay to be a woman, a wife, a mother. The dream +comforted her much, for she had often feared that she, the simple, +so-called uneducated girl, could not be enough for the great +schoolmaster. But soon her thoughts flowed into another channel; the +tears rose in her dark eyes, shining clear from beneath a stream that +was not of sorrow; and it was only weakness that kept her from +uttering audible words like these:--'Father in heaven, shall I trust +my husband's love, and doubt thine? Wilt thou meet less richly the +fearing hope of thy child's heart, than he in my dream met the longing +of his wife's? He was perfected in my eyes by the love he bore +me--shall I find thee less complete? Here I lie on thy world, faint, +and crushed, and withered; and my soul often seems as if it had lost +all the odours that should float up in the sweet-smelling savour of +thankfulness and love to thee. But thou hast only to take me, only to +choose me, only to clasp me to thy bosom, and I shall be a beautiful +singing angel, singing to God, and comforting my husband while I +sing. Father, take me, possess me, fill me!' + +"So she lay patiently waiting for the summer-time of restored strength +that drew slowly nigh. With her husband and her child near her, in her +soul, and God everywhere, there was for her no death, and no +hurt. When she said to herself, 'How rich I am!' it was with the +riches that pass not away--the riches of the Son of man; for in her +treasures, the human and the divine were blended--were one. + +"But there was a hard trial in store for them. They had learned to +receive what the Father sent: they had now to learn that what he gave +he gave eternally, after his own being--his own glory. For ere the +mother awoke from her first sleep, the baby, like a frolicsome +child-angel, that but tapped at his mother's window and fled--the baby +died; died while the mother slept away the pangs of its birth, died +while the father was teaching other babes out of the joy of his new +fatherhood. + +"When the mother woke, she lay still in her joy--the joy of a doubled +life; and knew not that death had been there, and had left behind only +the little human coffin. + +"'Nurse, bring me the baby,' she said at last. 'I want to see it.' + +"But the nurse pretended not to hear. + +"'I want to nurse it. Bring it.' + +"She had not yet learned to say _him_; for it was her first baby. + +"But the nurse went out of the room, and remained some minutes +away. When she returned, the mother spoke more absolutely, and the +nurse was compelled to reply--at last. + +"'Nurse, do bring me the baby; I am quite able to nurse it now.' + +"'Not yet, if you please, ma'am. Really you must rest a while +first. Do try to go to sleep.' + +"The nurse spoke steadily, and looked her too straight in the face; +and there was a constraint in her voice, a determination to be calm, +that at once roused the suspicion of the mother; for though her +first-born was dead, and she had given birth to what was now, as far +as the eye could reach, the waxen image of a son, a child had come +from God, and had departed to him again; and she was his mother. + +"And the fear fell upon her heart that it might be as it was; and, +looking at her attendant with a face blanched yet more with fear than +with suffering, she said, + +"'Nurse, is the baby--?' + +"She could not say _dead_; for to utter the word would be at once to +make it possible that the only fruit of her labour had been pain and +sorrow. + +"But the nurse saw that further concealment was impossible; and, +without another word, went and fetched the husband, who, with face +pale as the mother's, brought the baby, dressed in its white clothes, +and laid it by its mother's side, where it lay too still. + +"'Oh, ma'am, do not take on so,' said the nurse, as she saw the face +of the mother grow like the face of the child, as if she were about to +rush after him into the dark. + +"But she was not 'taking on' at all. She only felt that pain at her +heart, which is the farewell kiss of a long-cherished joy. Though cast +out of paradise into a world that looked very dull and weary, yet, +used to suffering, and always claiming from God the consolation it +needed, and satisfied with that, she was able, presently, to look up +in her husband's face, and try to reassure him of her well-being by a +dreary smile. + +"'Leave the baby,' she said; and they left it where it was. Long and +earnestly she gazed on the perfect tiny features of the little +alabaster countenance, and tried to feel that this was the child she +had been so long waiting for. As she looked, she fancied she heard it +breathe, and she thought--'What if it should be only asleep!' but, +alas! the eyes would not open, and when she drew it close to her, she +shivered to feel it so cold. At length, as her eyes wandered over and +over the little face, a look of her husband dawned unexpectedly upon +it; and, as if the wife's heart awoke the mother's she cried out, +'Baby! baby!' and burst into tears, during which weeping she fell +asleep. + +"When she awoke, she found the babe had been removed while she slept. +But the unsatisfied heart of the mother longed to look again on the +form of the child; and again, though with remonstrance from the nurse, +it was laid beside her. All day and all night long, it remained by her +side, like a little frozen thing that had wandered from its home, and +now lay dead by the door. + +"Next morning the nurse protested that she must part with it, for it +made her fret; but she knew it quieted her, and she would rather keep +her little lifeless babe. At length the nurse appealed to the father; +and the mother feared he would think it necessary to remove it; but to +her joy and gratitude he said, 'No, no; let her keep it as long as she +likes.' And she loved her husband the more for that; for he understood +her. + +"Then she had the cradle brought near the bed, all ready as it was for +a live child that had open eyes, and therefore needed sleep--needed +the lids of the brain to close, when it was filled full of the strange +colours and forms of the new world. But this one needed no cradle, for +it slept on. It needed, instead of the little curtains to darken it to +sleep, a great sunlight to wake it up from the darkness, and the +ever-satisfied rest. Yet she laid it in the cradle, which she had set +near her, where she could see it, with the little hand and arm laid +out on the white coverlet. If she could only keep it so! Could not +something be done, if not to awake it, yet to turn it to stone, and +let it remain so for ever? No; the body must go back to its mother, +the earth, and the _form_ which is immortal, being the thought of God, +must go back to its Father--the Maker. And as it lay in the white +cradle, a white coffin was being made for it. And the mother thought: +'I wonder which trees are growing coffins for my husband and me.' + +"But ere the child, that had the prayer of Job in his grief, and had +died from its mother's womb, was carried away to be buried, the mother +prayed over it this prayer:--'O God, if thou wilt not let me be a +mother, I have one refuge: I will go back and be a child: I will be +thy child more than ever. My mother-heart will find relief in +childhood towards its Father. For is it not the same nature that makes +the true mother and the true child? Is it not the same thought +blossoming upward and blossoming downward? So there is God the Father +and God the Son. Thou wilt keep my little son for me. He has gone home +to be nursed for me. And when I grow well, I will be more simple, and +truthful, and joyful in thy sight. And now thou art taking away my +child, my plaything, from me. But I think how pleased I should be, if +I had a daughter, and she loved me so well that she only smiled when I +took her plaything from her. Oh! I will not disappoint thee--thou +shall have thy joy. Here I am, do with me what thou wilt; I will only +smile.' + +"And how fared the heart of the father? At first, in the bitterness of +his grief, he called the loss of his child a punishment for his doubt +and unbelief; and the feeling of punishment made the stroke more keen, +and the heart less willing to endure it. But better thoughts woke +within him ere long. + +"The old woman who swept out his schoolroom, came in the evening to +inquire after the mistress, and to offer her condolences on the loss +of the baby. She came likewise to tell the news, that a certain old +man of little respectability had departed at last, unregretted by a +single soul in the village but herself, who had been his nurse through +the last tedious illness. + +"The schoolmaster thought with himself: + +"'Can that soiled and withered leaf of a man, and my little snow-flake +of a baby, have gone the same road? Will they meet by the way? Can +they talk about the same thing--anything? They must part on the +boarders of the shining land, and they could hardly speak by the way.' + +"'He will live four-and-twenty hours, nurse,' the doctor had said. + +"'No, doctor; he will die to-night,' the nurse had replied; during +which whispered dialogue, the patient had lain breathing quietly, for +the last of suffering was nearly over. + +He was at the close of an ill-spent life, not so much selfishly +towards others as indulgently towards himself. He had failed of true +joy by trying often and perseveringly to create a false one; and now, +about to knock at the gate of the other world, he bore with him no +burden of the good things of this; and one might be tempted to say of +him, that it were better he had not been born. The great majestic +mystery lay before him--but when would he see its majesty? + +"He was dying thus, because he had tried to live as Nature said he +should not live; and he had taken his own wages--for the law of the +Maker is the necessity of his creature. His own children had forsaken +him, for they were not perfect as their Father in heaven, who maketh +his sun to shine on the evil and on the good. Instead of doubling +their care as his need doubled, they had thought of the disgrace he +brought on them, and not of the duty they owed him; and now, left to +die alone for them, he was waited on by this hired nurse, who, +familiar with death-beds, knew better than the doctor--knew that he +could live only a few hours. + +"Stooping to his ear, she had told him, as gently as she could--for +she thought she ought not to conceal it--that he must die that night. +He had lain silent for a few moments; then had called her, and, with +broken and failing voice, had said, 'Nurse, you are the only friend I +have: give me one kiss before I die.' And the woman-heart had answered +the prayer. + +"'And,' said the old woman, 'he put his arms round my neck, and gave +me a long kiss, such a long kiss! and then he turned his face away, +and never spoke again.' + +"So, with the last unction of a woman's kiss, with this baptism for +the dead, he had departed. + +"'Poor old man! he had not quite destroyed his heart yet,' thought the +schoolmaster. 'Surely it was the child-nature that woke in him at the +last, when the only thing left for his soul to desire, the only thing +he could think of as a preparation for the dread something, was a +kiss. Strange conjunction, yet simple and natural! Eternity--a kiss. +Kiss me; for I am going to the Unknown!--Poor old man!' the +schoolmaster went on in his thoughts, 'I hope my baby has met him, and +put his tiny hand in the poor old shaking hand, and so led him across +the borders into the shining land, and up to where Jesus sits, and +said to the Lord: "Lord, forgive this old man, for he knew not what he +did." And I trust the Lord has forgiven him.' + +"And then the bereaved father fell on his knees, and cried out: + +"'Lord, thou hast not punished me. Thou wouldst not punish for a +passing thought of troubled unbelief, with which I strove. Lord, take +my child and his mother and me, and do what thou wilt with us. I know +thou givest not, to take again.' + +"And ere the schoolmaster could call his protestantism to his aid, he +had ended his prayer with the cry: + +"'And O God! have mercy upon the poor old man, and lay not his sins to +his charge.' + +"For, though a woman's kiss may comfort a man to eternity, it is not +all he needs. And the thought of his lost child had made the soul of +the father compassionate." + + * * * * * + +He ceased, and we sat silent. + + * * * * * + +END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Adela Cathcart, Vol. 1, by George MacDonald + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADELA CATHCART, VOL. 1 *** + +***** This file should be named 8892.txt or 8892.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/8/9/8892/ + +Produced by Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Adela Cathcart, Vol. 1 + +Author: George MacDonald + +Release Date: September, 2005 [EBook #8892] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on August 21, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADELA CATHCART, VOL. 1 *** + + + + +Produced by Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + ADELA CATHCART + + Volume I. + + BY + + GEORGE MACDONALD M.A. + + Me list not of the chaf ne of the stre + Maken so long a tale as of the corn. + + CHAUCER.--_Man of Lawes Tale_. + + + +ADELA CATHCART + +Originally published in 1864 + +With appreciation to Mrs. Morag Black for the master copies of Volumes +II and III, to the Bodleian Library for the photo-copies of Volume I, +and to Miss Tracy Samuel for type-copying Volumes I, II, and III for +this Edition. + + +To John Rutherfurd Russell M.D. + +This book is affectionately dedicated by the author. + + + +Contents of the First Volume + +Chapter + +I CHRISTMAS EVE +II CHURCH +III THE CHRISTMAS DINNER +IV THE NEW DOCTOR +V THE LIGHT PRINCESS +VI THE BELL +VII THE SCHOOLMASTER'S STORY + + + +ADELA CATHCART. + + +Chapter I. + +Christmas Eve. + + +It was the afternoon of Christmas Eve, sinking towards the night. All +day long the wintry light had been diluted with fog, and now the +vanguard of the darkness coming to aid the mist, the dying day was +well nigh smothered between them. When I looked through the window, it +was into a vague and dim solidification of space, a mysterious region +in which awful things might be going on, and out of which anything +might come; but out of which nothing came in the meantime, except +small sparkles of snow, or rather ice, which as we swept rapidly +onwards, and the darkness deepened, struck faster and faster against +the weather-windows. For we, that is, myself and a fellow-passenger, +of whom I knew nothing yet but the waistcoat and neckcloth, having +caught a glimpse of them as he searched for an obstinate +railway-ticket, were in a railway-carriage, darting along, at an all +but frightful rate, northwards from London. + +Being, the sole occupants of the carriage, we had made the most of it, +like Englishmen, by taking seats diagonally opposite to each other, +laying our heads in the corners, and trying to go to sleep. But for me +it was of no use to try any longer. Not that I had anything particular +on my mind or spirits; but a man cannot always go to sleep at spare +moments. If anyone can, let him consider it a great gift, and make +good use of it accordingly; that is, by going to sleep on every such +opportunity. + +As I, however, could not sleep, much as I should have enjoyed it, I +proceeded to occupy my very spare time with building, up what I may +call a conjectural mould, into which the face, dress, carriage, &c., +of my companion would fit. I had already discovered that he was a +clergyman; but this added to my difficulties in constructing the said +mould. For, theoretically, I had a great dislike to clergymen; having, +hitherto, always found that the _clergy_ absorbed the _man_; and that +the _cloth_, as they called it even themselves, would be no bad +epithet for the individual, as well as the class. For all clergymen +whom I had yet met, regarded mankind and their interests solely from +the clerical point of view, seeming far more desirous that a man +should be a good church man, as they called it, than that he should +love God. Hence, there was always an indescribable and, to me, +unpleasant odour of their profession about them. If they knew more +concerning the _life_ of the world than other men, why should +everything they said remind one of mustiness and mildew? In a word, +why were they not men at worst, when at best they ought to be more of +men than other men?--And here lay the difficulty: by no effort could I +get the face before me to fit into the clerical mould which I had all +ready in my own mind for it. That was, at all events, the face of a +man, in spite of waistcoat and depilation. I was not even surprised +when, all at once, he sat upright in his seat, and asked me if I would +join him in a cigar. I gladly consented. And here let me state a fact, +which added then to my interest in my fellow-passenger, and will serve +now to excuse the enormity of smoking in a railway carriage. We were +going to the same place--we must be; and nobody would enter that +carriage to-night, but the man who had to clean it. For, although we +were shooting along at a terrible rate, the train would not stop to +set us down, but would cast us loose a mile from our station; and some +minutes after it had shot by like an infernal comet of darkness, our +carriage would trot gently up to the platform, as if it had come from +London all on its own hook--and thought nothing of it. + +We were a long way yet, however, from our destination. The night grew +darker and colder, and after the necessary unmuffling occasioned by +the cigar process, we drew our wraps closer about us, leaned back in +our corners, and smoked away in silence; the red glow of our cigars +serving to light the carriage nearly as well as the red nose of the +neglected and half-extinguished lamp. For we were in a second-class +carriage, a fact for which I leave the clergyman to apologize: it is +nothing to me, for I am nobody. + +But, after all, I fear I am unjust to the Railway Company, for there +was light enough for me to see, and in some measure scrutinize, the +face of my fellow-passenger. I could discern a strong chin, and good, +useful jaws; with a firm-lipped mouth, and a nose more remarkable for +quantity than disposition of mass, being rather low, and very +thick. It was surmounted by two brilliant, kindly, black eyes. I lay +in wait for his forehead, as if I had been a hunter, and he some +peculiar animal that wanted killing right in the middle of it. But it +was some time before I was gratified with a sight of it. I did see it, +however, and I _was_ gratified. For when he wanted to throw away the +end of his cigar, finding his window immovable (the frosty wind that +bore the snow-flakes blowing from that side), and seeing that I opened +mine to accommodate him, he moved across, and, in so doing, knocked +his hat against the roof. As he displaced, to replace it, I had my +opportunity. It was a splendid forehead for size every way, but +chiefly for breadth. A kind of rugged calm rested upon it--a +suggestion of slumbering power, which it delighted me to contemplate. +I felt that that was the sort of man to make a friend of, if one had +the good luck to be able. But I did not yet make any advance towards +further acquaintance. + +My reader may, however, be desirous of knowing what kind of person is +making so much use of the pronoun _I_. He may have the same curiosity +to know his fellow-traveller over the region of these pages, that I +had to see the forehead of the clergyman. I can at least prevent any +further inconvenience from this possible curiosity, by telling him +enough to destroy his interest in me. + +I am an----; well, I suppose I _am_ an old bachelor; not very far from +fifty, in fact; old enough, at all events, to be able to take pleasure +in watching without sharing; yet ready, notwithstanding, when occasion +offers, to take any necessary part in what may be going on, I am able, +as it were, to sit quietly alone, and look down upon life from a +second-floor window, delighting myself with my own speculations, and +weaving the various threads I gather, into webs of varying kind and +quality. Yet, as I have already said in another form, I am not the +last to rush down stairs and into the street, upon occasion of an +accident or a row in it, or a conflagration next door. I may just +mention, too, that having many years ago formed the Swedenborgian +resolution of never growing old, I am as yet able to flatter myself +that I am likely to keep it. + +In proof of this, if further garrulity about myself can be pardoned, I +may state that every year, as Christmas approaches, I begin to grow +young again. At least I judge so from the fact that a strange, +mysterious pleasure, well known to me by this time, though little +understood and very varied, begins to glow in my mind with the first +hint, come from what quarter it may, whether from the church service, +or a bookseller's window, that the day of all the year is at hand--is +climbing up from the under-world. I enjoy it like a child. I buy the +Christmas number of every periodical I can lay my hands on, especially +those that have pictures in them; and although I am not very fond of +plum-pudding, I anticipate with satisfaction the roast beef and the +old port that ought always to accompany it. And above all things, I +delight in listening to stories, and sometimes in telling them. + +It amuses me to find what a welcome nobody I am amongst young people; +for they think I take no heed of them, and don't know what they are +doing; when, all the time, I even know what they are thinking. They +would wonder to know how often I feel exactly as they do; only I think +the feeling is a more earnest and beautiful thing to me than it can be +to them yet. If I see a child crowing in his mother's arms, I seem to +myself to remember making precisely the same noise in my mother's +arms. If I see a youth and a maiden looking into each other's eyes, I +know what it means perhaps better than they do. But I say nothing. I +do not even smile; for my face is puckered, and I have a weakness +about the eyes. But all this will be proof enough that I have not +grown very old, in any bad and to-be-avoided sense, at least. + +And now all the glow of the Christmas time was at its height in my +heart. For I was going to spend the Day, and a few weeks besides, with +a very old friend of mine, who lived near the town at which we were +about to arrive like a postscript.--Where could my companion be going? +I wanted to know, because I hoped to meet him again somehow or other. + +I ought to have told you, kind reader, that my name is Smith--actually +_John_ Smith; but I'm none the worse for that; and as I do not want to +be distinguished much from other people, I do not feel it a hardship. + +But where was my companion going? It could not be to my friend's; else +I should have known something about him. It could hardly be to the +clergyman's, because the vicarage was small, and there was a new +curate coming with his wife, whom it would probably have to +accommodate until their own house was ready. It could not be to the +lawyer's on the hill, because there all were from home on a visit to +their relations. It might be to Squire Vernon's, but he was the last +man likely to ask a clergyman to visit him; nor would a clergyman be +likely to find himself comfortable with the swearing old fox- +hunter. The question must, then, for the present, remain +unsettled.--So I left it, and, looking out of the window once more, +buried myself in Christmas fancies. + +It was now dark. We were the under half of the world. The sun was +scorching and glowing on the other side, leaving us to night and +frost. But the night and the frost wake the sunshine of a higher world +in our hearts; and who cares for winter weather at Christmas?--I +believe in the proximate correctness of the date of our Saviour's +birth. I believe he always comes in winter. And then let Winter reign +without: Love is king within; and Love is lord of the Winter. + +How the happy fires were glowing everywhere! We shot past many a +lighted cottage, and now and then a brilliant mansion. Inside both +were hearts like our own, and faces like ours, with the red coming out +on them, the red of joy, because it was Christmas. And most of them +had some little feast _toward_. Is it vulgar, this feasting at +Christmas? No. It is the Christmas feast that justifies all feasts, as +the bread and wine of the Communion are the essence of all bread and +wine, of all strength and rejoicing. If the Christianity of eating is +lost--I will not say _forgotten_--the true type of eating is to be +found at the dinner-hour in the Zoological Gardens. Certain I am, that +but for the love which, ever revealing itself, came out brightest at +that first Christmas time, there would be no feasting--nay no smiling; +no world to go careering in joy about its central fire; no men and +women upon it, to look up and rejoice. + +"But you always look on the bright side of things." + +No one spoke aloud; I heard the objection in my mind. Could it come +from the mind of my friend--for so I already counted him--opposite to +me? There was no need for that supposition--I had heard the objection +too often in my ears. And now I answered it in set, though unspoken +form. + +"Yes," I said, "I do; for I keep in the light as much as I can. Let +the old heathens count Darkness the womb of all things. I count Light +the older, from the tread of whose feet fell the first shadow--and +that was Darkness. Darkness exists but by the light, and for the +light." + +"But that is all mysticism. Look about you. The dark places of the +earth are the habitations of cruelty. Men and women blaspheme God and +die. How can this then be an hour for rejoicing?" + +"They are in God's hands. Take from me my rejoicing, and I am +powerless to help them. It shall not destroy the whole bright holiday +to me, that my father has given my brother a beating. It will do him +good. He needed it somehow.--He is looking after them." + +Could I have spoken some of these words aloud? For the eyes of the +clergyman were fixed upon me from his corner, as if he were trying to +put off his curiosity with the sop of a probable conjecture about me. + +"I fear he would think me a heathen," I said to myself. "But if ever +there was humanity in a countenance, there it is." + +It grew more and more pleasant to think of the bright fire and the +cheerful room that awaited me. Nor was the idea of the table, perhaps +already beginning to glitter with crystal and silver, altogether +uninteresting to me. For I was growing hungry. + +But the speed at which we were now going was quite comforting. I +dropped into a reverie. I was roused from it by the sudden ceasing of +the fierce oscillation, which had for some time been threatening to +make a jelly of us. We were loose. In three minutes more we should be +at Purleybridge. + +And in three minutes more, we were at Purleybridge--the only +passengers but one who arrived at the station that night. A servant +was waiting for me, and I followed him through the booking-office to +the carriage destined to bear me to _The Swanspond_, as my friend +Colonel Cathcart's house was called. + +As I stepped into the carriage, I saw the clergyman walk by, with his +carpet-bag in his hand. + +Now I knew Colonel Cathcart intimately enough to offer the use of his +carriage to my late companion; but at the moment I was about to +address him, the third passenger, of whom I had taken no particular +notice, came between us, and followed me into the carriage. This +occasioned a certain hesitation, with which I am only too easily +affected; the footman shut the door; I caught one glimpse of the +clergyman turning the corner of the station into a field-path; the +horses made a scramble; and away I rode to the Swanspond, feeling as +selfish as ten Pharisees. It is true, I had not spoken a word to him +beyond accepting his invitation to smoke with him; and yet I felt +almost sure that we should meet again, and that when we did, we should +both be glad of it. And now he was carrying a carpet-bag, and I was +seated in a carriage and pair! + +It was far too dark for me to see what my new companion was like; but +when the light from the colonel's hall-door flashed upon us as we drew +up, I saw that he was a young man, with a certain expression in his +face which a first glance might have taken for fearlessness and power +of some sort, but which notwithstanding, I felt to be rather repellent +than otherwise. The moment the carriage-door was opened, he called the +servant by his name, saying, + +"When the cart comes with the luggage, send mine up directly. Take +that now." + +And he handed him his dressing-bag. + +He spoke in a self-approving tone, and with a drawl which I will not +attempt to imitate, because I find all such imitation tends to +caricature; and I want to be believed. Besides, I find the production +of caricature has unfailingly a bad moral reaction upon myself. I +daresay it is not so with others, but with that I have nothing to do: +it is one of my weaknesses. + +My worthy old friend, the colonel, met us in the hall--straight, +broad-shouldered, and tall, with a severe military expression +underlying the genuine hospitality of his countenance, as if he could +not get rid of a sense of duty even when doing what he liked best. +The door of the dining-room was partly open, and from it came the red +glow of a splendid fire, the chink of encountering glass and metal, +and, best of all, the pop of a cork. + +"Would you like to go up-stairs, Smith, or will you have a glass of +wine first?--How do you do, Percy?" + +"Thank you; I'll go to my room at once," I said. + +"You'll find a fire there, I know. Having no regiment now, I look +after my servants. Mind you make use of them. I can't find enough of +work for them." + +He left me, and again addressed the youth, who had by this time got +out of his great-coat, and, cold as it was, stood looking at his hands +by the hall-lamp. As I moved away, I heard him say, in a careless +tone, + +"And how's Adela, uncle?" + +The reply did not reach me, but I knew now who the young fellow was. + +Hearing a kind of human grunt behind me, I turned and saw that I was +followed by the butler; and, by a kind of intuition, I knew that this +grunt was a remark, an inarticulate one, true, but not the less to the +point on that account. I knew that he had been in the dining-room by +the pop I had heard; and I knew by the grunt that he had heard his +master's observation about his servants. + +"Come, Beeves," I said, "I don't want your help. You've got plenty to +do, you know, at dinner-time; and your master is rather hard upon +you--isn't he?" + +I knew the man, of course. + +"Well, Mr. Smith, master is the best master in the country, _he +is_. But he don't know what work is, _he don't_." + +"Well, go to your work, and never mind me. I know every turn in the +house as well as yourself, Beeves." + +"No, Mr. Smith; I'll attend to you, if _you_ please. Mr. Percy will +take care of _his_-self. There's no fear of him. But you're my +business. You are sure to give a man a kind word who does his best to +please you." + +"Why, Beeves, I think that is the least a man can do." + +"It's the most too, sir; and some people think it's too much." + +I saw that the man was hurt, and sought to soothe him. + +"You and I are old friends, at least, Beeves." + +"Yes, Mr. Smith. Money won't do't, sir. My master gives good wages, +and I'm quite independing of visitors. But when a gentleman says to +me, 'Beeves, I'm obliged to you,' why then, Mr. Smith, you feels at +one _and_ the same time, that he's a gentleman, and that you aint a +boot-jack or a coal-scuttle. It's the sentiman, Mr. Smith. If he +despises us, why, we despises him. And we don't like waiting on a +gentleman as aint a gentleman. Ring the bell, Mr. Smith, when you want +anythink, and _I'll_ attend to you." + +He had been twenty years in the colonel's service. He was not an old +soldier, yet had a thorough _esprit de corps_, looking, upon service +as an honourable profession. In this he was not only right, but had a +vast advantage over everybody whose profession is not sufficiently +honourable for his ambition. All such must _feel_ degraded. Beeves was +fifty; and, happily for his opinion of his profession, had never been +to London. + +And the colonel was the best of masters; for because he ruled well, +every word of kindness told. It is with servants as with children and +with horses--it is of no use caressing them unless they know that you +mean them to go. + +When the dinner-bell rang, I proceeded to the drawing-room. The +colonel was there, and I thought for a moment that he was alone. But I +soon saw that a couch by the fire was occupied by his daughter, the +Adela after whose health I had heard young Percy Cathcart inquiring. +She was our hostess, for Mrs. Cathcart had been dead for many years, +and Adela had been her only child. I approached to pay my respects, +but as soon as I got near enough to see her face, I turned +involuntarily to her father, and said, + +"Cathcart, you never told me of this!" + +He made me no reply; but I saw the long stern upper lip twitching +convulsively. I turned again to Adela, who tried to smile--with +precisely the effect of a momentary gleam of sunshine upon a cold, +leafless, and wet landscape. + +"Adela, my dear, what is the matter?" + +"I don't know, uncle." + +She had called me uncle, since ever she had begun to speak, which must +have been nearly twenty years ago. + +I stood and looked at her. Her face was pale and thin, and her eyes +were large, and yet sleepy. I may say at once that she had dark eyes +and a sweet face; and that is all the description I mean to give of +her. I had been accustomed to see that face, if not rosy, yet plump +and healthy; and those eyes with plenty of light for themselves, and +some to spare for other people. But it was neither her wan look nor +her dull eyes that distressed me: it was the expression of her +face. It was very sad to look at; but it was not so much sadness as +utter and careless hopelessness that it expressed. + +"Have you any pain, Adela?" I asked. + +"No," she answered. + +"But you feel ill?" + +"Yes." + +"How?" + +"I don't know." + +And as she spoke, she tapped with one finger on the edge of the +_couvre-pied_ which was thrown over her, and gave a sigh as if her +very heart was weary of everything. + +"Shall you come down to dinner with us?" + +"Yes, uncle; I suppose I must." + +"If you would rather have your dinner sent up, my love--" began her +father. + +"Oh! no. It is all the same to me. I may as well go down." + +My young companion of the carriage now entered, got up expensively. +He, too, looked shocked when he saw her. + +"Why, Addie!" he said. + +But she received him with perfect indifference, just lifting one cold +hand towards his, and then letting it fall again where it had lain +before. Percy looked a little mortified; in fact, more mortified now +than sorry; turned away, and stared at the fire. + +Every time I open my mouth in a drawing-room before dinner, I am aware +of an amount of self-denial worthy of a forlorn hope. Yet the silence +was so awkward now, that I felt I must make an effort to say +something; and the more original the remark the better I felt it would +be for us all. But, with the best intentions, all I could effect was +to turn towards Mr. Percy and say, + +"Rather cold for travelling, is it not?" + +"Those foot-warmers are capital things, though," he answered. "Mine +was jolly hot. Might have roasted a potato on it, by Jove!" + +"I came in a second-class carriage," I replied; "and they are too cold +to need a foot-warmer." + +He gave a shrug with his shoulders, as if he had suddenly found +himself in low company, and must make the best of it. But he offered +no further remark. + +Beeves announced dinner. + +"Will you take Adela, Mr. Smith?" said the colonel. + +"I think I won't go, after all, papa, if you don't mind. I don't want +any dinner." + +"Very well, my dear," began her father, but could not help showing his +distress; perceiving which, Adela rose instantly from her couch, put +her arm in his, and led the way to the dining-room. Percy and I +followed. + +"What can be the matter with the girl?" thought I. "She used to be +merry enough. Some love affair, I shouldn't wonder. I've never heard +of any. I know her father favours that puppy Percy; but I don't think +she is dying for _him_." + +It was the dreariest Christmas Eve I had ever spent. The fire was +bright; the dishes were excellent; the wine was thorough; the host was +hospitable; the servants were attentive; and yet the dinner was as +gloomy as if we had all known it to be the last we should ever eat +together. If a ghost had been sitting in its shroud at the head of the +table, instead of Adela, it could hardly have cast a greater chill +over the guests. She did her duty well enough; but she did not look +it; and the charities which occasioned her no pleasure in the +administration, could hardly occasion us much in the reception. + +As soon as she had left the room, Percy broke out, with more emphasis +than politeness: + +"What the devil's the matter with Adela, uncle?" + +"Indeed, I can't tell, my boy," answered the colonel, with more +kindness than the form of the question deserved. + +"Have you no conjecture on the subject?" I asked. + +"None. I have tried hard to find out; but I have altogether failed. +She tells me there is nothing the matter with her, only she is so +tired. What has she to tire her?" + +"If she is tired inside first, everything will tire her." + +"I wish you would try to find out, Smith." + +"I will." + +"Her mother died of a decline." + +"I know. Have you had no advice?" + +"Oh, yes! Dr. Wade is giving her steel-wine, and quinine, and all that +sort of thing. For my part, I don't believe in their medicines. +Certainly they don't do her any good." + +"Is her chest affected--does he say?" + +"He says not; but I believe he knows no more about the state of her +chest than he does about the other side of the moon. He's a stupid old +fool. He comes here for his fees, and he has them." + +"Why don't you call in another, if you are not satisfied?" + +"Why, my dear fellow, they're all the same in this infernal old +place. I believe they've all embalmed themselves, and are going by +clockwork. They and the clergy make sad fools of us. But we make worse +fools of ourselves to have them about us. To be sure, they see that +everything is proper. The doctor makes sure that we are dead before we +are buried, and the parson that we are buried after we are dead. About +the resurrection I suspect he knows as much as we do. He goes by +book." + +In his perplexity and sorrow, the poor colonel was irritable and +unjust. I saw that it would be better to suggest than to reason. And I +partly took the homoeopathic system--the only one on which mental +distress, at least, can be treated with any advantage. + +"Certainly," I said, "the medical profession has plenty of men in it +who live on humanity, like the very diseases they attempt to cure. And +plenty of the clergy find the Church a tolerably profitable +investment. The reading of the absolution is as productive to them +now, as it was to the pardon-sellers of old. But surely, colonel, you +won't huddle them all up together in one shapeless mass of +condemnation?" + +"You always were right, Smith, and I'm a fool, as usual.--Percy, my +boy, what's going on at Somerset House?" + +"The river, uncle." + +"Nothing else?" + +"Well--I don't know. Nothing much. It's horribly slow!" + +"I'm afraid you won't find this much better. But you must take care of +yourself." + +"I've made that a branch of special study, uncle. I flatter myself I +_can_ do that." + +Colonel Cathcart laughed. Percy was the son of his only brother, who +had died young, and he had an especial affection for him. And where +the honest old man loved, he could see no harm; for he reasoned +something in this way: "He must be all right, or how could I like him +as I do?" But Percy was a common-place, selfish fellow--of that I was +convinced--whatever his other qualities, good or bad, might be; and I +sincerely hoped that any designs he might have of marrying his cousin, +might prove as vain as his late infantile passion for the moon. For I +beg to assure my readers that the circumstances in which I have +introduced Adela Cathcart, are no more fair to her real character, +than my lady readers would consider the effect of a lamp-shade of +bottle-green true in its presentation of their complexion. + +We did not sit long over our wine. When we went up to the +drawing-room, Adela was not there, nor did she make her appearance +again that evening. For a little while we tried to talk; but, after +many failures, I yielded and withdrew on the score of fatigue; no +doubt relieving the mind of my old friend by doing so, for he had +severe ideas of the duty of a host as well as of a soldier, and to +these ideas he found it at present impossible to elevate the tone of +his behaviour. + +When I reached my own room, I threw myself into the easiest of +arm-chairs, and began to reflect. + +"John Smith," I said, "this is likely to be as uncomfortable a +Christmas-tide, as you, with your all but ubiquity, have ever had the +opportunity of passing. Nevertheless, please to remember a resolution +you came to once upon a time, that, as you were nobody, so you would +be nobody; and see if you can make yourself useful.--What can be the +matter with Adela?" + +I sat and reflected for a long time; for during my life I had had many +opportunities of observation, and amongst other cases that had +interested me, I had seen some not unlike the present. The fact was +that, as everybody counted me nobody, I had taken full advantage of my +conceded nonentity, which, like Jack the Giant-killer's coat of +darkness, enabled me to learn much that would otherwise have escaped +me. My reflections on my observations, however, did not lead me to any +further or more practical conclusion just yet, than that other and +better advice ought to be called in. + +Having administered this sedative sop to my restless practicalness, +I went to bed and to sleep. + + + +Chapter II. + +Church. + + +Adela did not make her appearance at the breakfast-table next morning, +although it was the morning of Christmas Day. And no one who had seen +her at dinner on Christmas Eve, would have expected to see her at +breakfast on Christmas-morn. Yet although her absence was rather a +relief, such a gloom occupied her place, that our party was anything +but cheerful. But the world about us was happy enough, not merely at +its unseen heart of fire, but on its wintered countenance--evidently +to all men. It was not "to hide her guilty front," as Milton says, in +the first two--and the least worthy--stanzas on the Nativity, that the +earth wooed the gentle air for innocent snow, but to put on the best +smile and the loveliest dress that the cold time and her suffering +state would allow, in welcome of the Lord of the snow and the +summer. I thought of the lines from Crashaw's _Hymn of the +Nativity_--Crashaw, who always suggested to me Shelley turned a +Catholic Priest: + + "I saw the curled drops, soft and slow, + Come hovering o'er the place's head, + Offering their whitest sheets of snow, + To furnish the fair infant's bed. + Forbear, said I, be not too bold: + Your fleece is white, but 'tis too cold." + +And as the sun shone rosy with mist, I naturally thought of the next +following stanza of the same hymn: + + "I saw the obsequious seraphim + Their rosy fleece of fire bestow; + For well they now can spare their wings, + Since Heaven itself lies here below. + Well done! said I; but are you sure + Your down, so warm, will pass for pure?" + +Adela, pale face and all, was down in time for church; and she and the +colonel and I walked to it together by the meadow path, where, on each +side, the green grass was peeping up through the glittering frost. For +the colonel, notwithstanding his last night's outbreak upon the +clergy, had a profound respect for them, and considered church-going +one of those military duties which belonged to every honest soldier +and gentleman. Percy had found employment elsewhere. + +It was a blessed little church that, standing in a little meadow +church-yard, with a low strong ancient tower, and great buttresses +that put one in mind of the rock of ages, and a mighty still river +that flowed past the tower end, and a picturesque, straggling, +well-to-do parsonage at the chancel end. The church was nearly covered +with ivy, and looked as if it had grown out of the churchyard, to be +ready for the poor folks, as soon as they got up again, to praise God +in. But it had stood a long time, and none of them came, and the +praise of the living must be a poor thing to the praise of the dead, +notwithstanding all that the Psalmist says. So the church got +disheartened, and drooped, and now looked very old and grey-headed. It +could not get itself filled with praise enough.--And into this old, +and quaint, and weary but stout-hearted church, we went that bright +winter morning, to hear about a baby. My heart was full enough before +I left it. + +Old Mr. Venables read the service with a voice and manner far more +memorial of departed dinners than of joys to come; but I sat--little +heeding the service, I confess--with my mind full of thoughts that +made me glad. + +Now all my glad thoughts came to me through a hole in the +tower-door. For the door was far in a shadowy retreat, and in the +irregular lozenge-shaped hole in it, there was a piece of coarse thick +glass of a deep yellow. And through this yellow glass the sun +shone. And the cold shine of the winter sun was changed into the warm +glory of summer by the magic of that bit of glass. + +Now when I saw the glow first, I thought without thinking, that it +came from some inner place, some shrine of old, or some ancient tomb +in the chancel of the church--forgetting the points of the +compass--where one might pray as in the _penetralia_ of the temple; +and I gazed on it as the pilgrim might gaze upon the lamp-light oozing +from the cavern of the Holy Sepulchre. But some one opened the door, +and the clear light of the Christmas morn broke upon the pavement, and +swept away the summer splendour.--The door was to the outside.--And I +said to myself: All the doors that lead inwards to the secret place of +the Most High, are doors outwards--out of self--out of smallness--out +of wrong. And these were some of the thoughts that came to me through +the hole in the door, and made me forget the service, which +Mr. Venables mumbled like a nicely cooked sweetbread. + +But another voice broke the film that shrouded the ears of my brain, +and the words became inspired and alive, and I forgot my own thoughts +in listening to the Holy Book. For is not the voice of every loving +spirit a fresh inspiration to the dead letter? With a voice other than +this, does it not kill? And I thought I had heard the voice before, +but where I sat I could not see the Communion Table.--At length the +preacher ascended the pulpit stairs, and, to my delight and the +rousing of an altogether unwonted expectation, who should it be but my +fellow-traveller of last night! + +He had a look of having something to say; and I immediately felt that +I had something to hear. Having read his text, which I forget, the +broad-browed man began with something like this: + +"It is not the high summer alone that is God's. The winter also is +His. And into His winter He came to visit us. And all man's winters +are His--the winter of our poverty, the winter of our sorrow, the +winter of our unhappiness--even 'the winter of our discontent.'" + +I stole a glance at Adela. Her large eyes were fixed on the preacher. + +"Winter," he went on, "does not belong to death, although the outside +of it looks like death. Beneath the snow, the grass is growing. Below +the frost, the roots are warm and alive. Winter is only a spring too +weak and feeble for us to see that it is living. The cold does for all +things what the gardener has sometimes to do for valuable trees: he +must half kill them before they will bear any fruit. Winter is in +truth the small beginnings of the spring." + +I glanced at Adela again; and still her eyes were fastened on the +speaker. + +"The winter is the childhood of the year. Into this childhood of the +year came the child Jesus; and into this childhood of the year must we +all descend. It is as if God spoke to each of us according to our +need: My son, my daughter, you are growing old and cunning; you must +grow a child again, with my son, this blessed birth-time. You are +growing old and selfish; you must become a child. You are growing old +and careful; you must become a child. You are growing old and +distrustful; you must become a child. You are growing old and petty, +and weak, and foolish; you must become a child--my child, like the +baby there, that strong sunrise of faith and hope and love, lying in +his mother's arms in the stable. + +"But one may say to me: 'You are talking in a dream. The Son of God is +a child no longer. He is the King of Heaven.' True, my friends. But He +who is the Unchangeable, could never become anything that He was not +always, for that would be to change. He is as much a child now as ever +he was. When he became a child, it was only to show us by itself, that +we might understand it better, what he was always in his deepest +nature. And when he was a child, he was not less the King of Heaven; +for it is in virtue of his childhood, of his sonship, that he is Lord +of Heaven and of Earth--'for of such'--namely, of children--'is the +kingdom of heaven.' And, therefore, when we think of the baby now, it +is still of the Son of man, of the King of men, that we think. And all +the feelings that the thought of that babe can wake in us, are as true +now as they were on that first Christmas day, when Mary covered from +the cold his little naked feet, ere long to be washed with the tears +of repentant women, and nailed by the hands of thoughtless men, who +knew not what they did, to the cross of fainting, and desolation, and +death." + +Adela was hiding her face now. + +"So, my friends, let us be children this Christmas. Of course, when I +say to anyone, 'You must be like a child,' I mean a good child. A +naughty child is not a child as long as his naughtiness lasts. He is +not what God meant when He said, 'I will make a child.' Think of the +best child you know--the one who has filled you with most +admiration. It is his child-likeness that has so delighted you. It is +because he is so true to the child-nature that you admire him. Jesus +is like that child. You must be like that child. But you cannot help +knowing some faults in him--some things that are like ill-grown men +and women. Jesus is not like him, there. Think of the best child you +can imagine; nay, think of a better than you can imagine--of the one +that God thinks of when he invents a child in the depth of his +fatherhood: such child-like men and women must you one day become; and +what day better to begin, than this blessed Christmas Morn? Let such a +child be born in your hearts this day. Take the child Jesus to your +bosoms, into your very souls, and let him grow there till he is one +with your every thought, and purpose, and hope. As a good child born +in a family will make the family good; so Jesus, born into the world, +will make the world good at last. And this perfect child, born in your +hearts, will make your hearts good; and that is God's best gift to +you. + +"Then be happy this Christmas Day; for to you a child is born. +Childless women, this infant is yours--wives or maidens. Fathers and +mothers, he is your first-born, and he will save his brethren. Eat and +drink, and be merry and kind, for the love of God is the source of all +joy and all good things, and this love is present in the child +Jesus.--Now, to God the Father, &c." + +"O my baby Lord!" I said in my heart; for the clergyman had forgotten +me, and said nothing about us old bachelors. + +Of course this is but the substance of the sermon; and as, although I +came to know him well before many days were over, he never lent me his +manuscript--indeed, I doubt if he had any--my report must have lost +something of his nervous strength, and be diluted with the weakness of +my style. + +Although I had been attending so well to the sermon, however, my eyes +had now and then wandered, not only to Adela's face, but all over the +church as well; and I could not help observing, a few pillars off, and +partly round a corner, the face of a young man--well, he was about +thirty, I should guess--out of which looked a pair of well-opened +hazel eyes, with rather notable eyelashes. Not that I, with my own +weak pair of washed-out grey, could see the eyelashes at that +distance, but I judged it must be their length that gave a kind of +feminine cast to the outline of the eyes. Nor should I have noticed +the face itself much, had it not seemed to me that those eyes were +pursuing a very thievish course; for, by the fact that, as often as I +looked their way, I saw the motion of their withdrawal, I concluded +that they were stealing glances at, certainly not from, my adopted +niece, Adela. This made me look at the face more attentively. I found +it a fine, frank, brown, country-looking face.--Could it have anything +to do with Adela's condition? Absurd! How could such health and ruddy +life have anything to do with the worn pallor of her countenance? Nor +did a single glance on the part of Adela reveal that she was aware of +the existence of the neighbouring observatory. I dismissed the +idea. And I was right, as time showed. + +We remained to the Communion. When that was over, we walked out of the +old dark-roofed church, Adela looking as sad as ever, into the bright +cold sunshine, which wrought no change on her demeanour. How could it, +if the sun of righteousness, even, had failed for the time? And there, +in the churchyard, we found Percy, standing astride of an infant's +grave, with his hands in his trowser-pockets, and an air of +condescending satisfaction on his countenance, which seemed to say to +the dead beneath him: + +"Pray, don't apologize. I know you are disagreeable; but you can't +help it, you know;" + +--and to the living coming out of church: + +"Well, have you had your little whim out?" + +But what he did say, was to Adela: + +"A merry Christmas to you, Addie! Won't you lean on me? You don't look +very stunning." + +But her sole answer was to take my arm; and so we walked towards the +Swanspond. + +"I suppose that's what they call _Broad Church,_" said the colonel. + +"Generally speaking, I prefer breadth," I answered, vaguely. "Do you +think that's _Broad Church?_" + +"Oh! I don't know. I suppose it's all right. He ran me through, +anyhow." + +"I hope it _is_ all right," I answered. "It suits me." + +"Well, I'm sure you know ten times better than I do. He seems a right +sort of man, whatever sort of clergyman he may be." + +"Who is he--can you tell me?" + +"Why, don't you know? That's our new curate, Mr. Armstrong." + +"Curate!" I exclaimed. "A man like that! And at his years too! He must +be forty. You astonish me!" + +"Well, I don't know. He may be forty. He is our curate; that is all I +can answer for." + +"He was my companion in the train last night." + +"Ah! that accounts for it. You had some talk with him, and found him +out? I believe he is a superior sort of man, too. Old Mr. Venables +seems to like him." + +"All the talk I have had with him passed between pulpit and pew this +morning," I replied; "for the only words that we exchanged last night +were, 'Will you join me in a cigar?' from him, and 'With much +pleasure,' from me." + +"Then, upon my life, I can't see what you think remarkable in his +being a curate. Though I confess, as I said before, he ran me through +the body. I'm rather soft-hearted, I believe, since Addie's illness." + +He gave her a hasty glance. But she took no notice of what he had +said; and, indeed, seemed to have taken no notice of the +conversation--to which Percy had shown an equal amount of +indifference. A very different indifference seemed the only bond +between them. + +When we reached home, we found lunch ready for us, and after waiting a +few minutes for Adela, but in vain, we seated ourselves at the table. + +"Awfully like Sunday, and a cold dinner, uncle!" remarked Percy. + +"We'll make up for that, my boy, when dinner-time comes." + +"You don't like Sunday, then, Mr. Percy?" I said. + +"A horrid bore," he answered. "My old mother made me hate it. We had +to go to church twice; and that was even worse than her veal-broth. +But the worst of it is, I can't get it out of my head that I ought to +be there, even when I'm driving tandem to Richmond." + +"Ah! your mother will be with us on Sunday, I hope, Percy." + +"Good heavens, uncle! Do you know what you are about? My mother here! +I'll just ring the bell, and tell James to pack my traps. I won't +stand it. I can't. Indeed I can't." + +He rose as he spoke. His uncle caught him by the arm, laughing, and +made him sit down again; which he did with real or pretended +reluctance. + +"We'll take care of you, Percy. Never mind.--Don't be a fool," he +added, seeing the evident annoyance of the young fellow. + +"Well, uncle, you ought to have known better," said Percy, sulkily, +as, yielding, he resumed his seat, and poured himself out a bumper of +claret, by way of consolation. + +He had not been much of a companion before: now he made himself almost +as unpleasant as a young man could be, and that is saying a great +deal. One, certainly, had need to have found something beautiful at +church, for here was the prospect of as wretched a Christmas dinner as +one could ever wish to avoid. + +When Percy had drunk another bumper of claret, he rose and left the +room; and my host, turning to me, said: + +"I fear, Smith, you will have anything but a merry Christmas, this +year. I hoped the sight of you would cheer up poor Adela, and set us +all right. And now Percy's out of humour at the thought of his mother +coming, and I'm sure I don't know what's to be done. We shall sit over +our dinner to-day like four crows over a carcass. It's very good of +you to stop." + +"Oh! never mind me," I said. "I, too, can take care of myself. But has +Adela no companions of her own age?" + +"None but Percy. And I am afraid she has got tired of him. He's a good +fellow, though a bit of a puppy. That'll wear off. I wish he would +take a fancy to the army, now." + +I made no reply, but I thought the more. It seemed to me that to get +tired of Percy was the most natural proceeding that could be adopted +with regard to him and all about him. + +But men judge men--and women, women--hardly. + +"I'll tell you what I will do," said the colonel. "I will ask Mr. +Bloomfield, the schoolmaster, and his wife, to dine with us. It's no +use asking anybody else that I can think of. But they have no family, +and I dare say they can put off their own Christmas dinner till +to-morrow. They have but one maid, and she can dine with our +servants. They are very respectable people, I assure you." + +The colonel always considered his plans thoroughly, and then acted on +them at once. He rose. + +"A capital idea!" I said, as he disappeared. I went up to look for +Adela. She was not in the drawing-room. I went up again, and tapped at +the door of her room. + +"Come in," she said, in a listless voice. + +I entered. + +"How are you now, Adela?" I asked. + +"Thank you, uncle," was all her reply. + +"What is the matter with you, my child?" I said, and drew a chair near +hers. She was half reclining, with a book lying upside down on her +knee. + +"I would tell you at once, uncle, if I knew," she answered very +sweetly, but as sadly. I believe I am dying; but of what I have not +the smallest idea." + +"Nonsense!" I said. "You're not dying." + +"You need not think to comfort me that way, uncle; for I think I would +rather die than not." + +"Is there anything you would like?" + +"Nothing. There is nothing worth liking, but sleep." + +"Don't you sleep at night?" + +"Not well.--I will tell you all I know about it.--Some six weeks ago, +I woke suddenly one morning, very early--I think about three +o'clock--with an overpowering sense of blackness and misery. +Everything I thought of seemed to have a core of wretchedness in it. I +fought with the feeling as well as I could, and got to sleep again. +But the effect of it did not leave me next day. I said to myself: +'They say "morning thoughts are true." What if this should be the true +way of looking at things?' And everything became grey and dismal about +me. Next morning it was just the same. It was as if I had waked in the +middle of some chaos over which God had never said: 'Let there be +light.' And the next day was worse. I began to see the bad in +everything--wrong motives--and self-love--and pretence, and everything +mean and low. And so it has gone on ever since. I wake wretched every +morning. I am crowded with wretched, if not wicked thoughts, all day. +Nothing seems worth anything. I don't care for anything." + +"But you love somebody?" + +"I hope I love my father. I don't know. I don't feel as if I did." + +"And there's your cousin Percy." I confess this was a feeler I put +out. + +"Percy's a fool!" she said, with some show of indignation, which I +hailed, for more reasons than one. + +"But you enjoyed the sermon this morning, did you not?" + +"I don't know. I thought it very poetical and very pretty; but whether +it was true--how could I tell? I didn't care. The baby he spoke about +was nothing to me. I didn't love him, or want to hear about him. Don't +you think me a brute, uncle?" + +"No, I don't. I think you are ill. And I think we shall find something +that will do you good; but I can't tell yet what. You will dine with +us, won't you?" + +"Oh! yes, if you and papa wish it." + +"Of course we do. He is just gone to ask Mr. and Mrs. Bloomfield to +dine with us." + +"Oh!" + +"You don't mind, do you?" + +"Oh! no. They are nice people. I like them both." + +"Well, I will leave you, my child. Sleep if you can. I will go and +walk in the garden, and think what can be done for my little girl." + +"Thank you, uncle. But you can't do me any good. What if this should +be the true way of things? It is better to know it, if it is." + +"Disease couldn't make a sun in the heavens. But it could make a man +blind, that he could not see it." + +"I don't understand you." + +"Never mind. It's of no consequence whether you do or not. When you +see light again, you will believe in it. For light compels faith." + +"I believe in you, uncle; I do." + +"Thank you, my dear. Good-bye." + +I went round by the stables, and there found the colonel, talking to +his groom. He had returned already from his call, and the Bloomfields +were coming. I met Percy next, sauntering about, with a huge cigar in +his mouth. + +"The Bloomfields are coming to dinner, Mr. Percy," I said. + +"Who are they?" + +"The schoolmaster and his wife." + +"Just like that precious old uncle of mine! Why the deuce did he ask +_me_ this Christmas? I tell you what, Mr. Smith--I can't stand +it. There's nothing, not even cards, to amuse a fellow. And when my +mother comes, it will be ten times worse. I'll cut and run for it." + +"Oh! no, you won't," I said. But I heartily wished he would. I confess +the insincerity, and am sorry for it. + +"But what the devil does my mother want, coming here?" + +"I haven't the pleasure of knowing your mother, so I cannot tell what +the devil she can want, coming here." + +"Humph!" + +He walked away. + + + +Chapter III. + +The Christmas dinner. + + +Mr. and Mrs. Bloomfield arrived; the former a benevolent, grey-haired +man, with a large nose and small mouth, yet with nothing of the +foolish look which often accompanies such a malconformation; and the +latter a nice-looking little body, middle-aged, rather more; with +half-grey curls, and a cap with black ribbons. Indeed, they were both +in mourning. Mr. Bloomfield bore himself with a kind of unworldly +grace, and Mrs. Bloomfield with a kind of sweet primness. The +schoolmaster was inclined to be talkative; nor was his wife behind +him; and that was just what we wanted. + +"I am sorry to see you in mourning," said the colonel to Mr. +Bloomfield, during dessert. "I trust it is for no near relative." + +"No relative at all, sir. But a boy of mine, to whom, through God's +grace, I did a good turn once, and whom, as a consequence, I loved +ever after." + +"Tell Colonel Cathcart the story, James," said his wife. "It can do no +harm to anybody now; and you needn't mention names, you know. You +would like to hear it, wouldn't you, sir?" + +"Very much indeed," answered the colonel. + +"Well, sir," began the schoolmaster, "there's not much in it to you, I +fear; though there was a good deal to him and me. I was usher in a +school at Peckham once. I was but a lad, but I tried to do my duty; +and the first part of my duty seemed to me, to take care of the +characters of the boys. So I tried to understand them all, and their +ways of looking at things, and thinking about them. + +"One day, to the horror of the masters, it was discovered that a watch +belonging to one of the boys had been stolen. The boy who had lost it +was making a dreadful fuss about it, and declaring he would tell the +police, and set them to find it. The moment I heard of it, my +suspicion fell, half by knowledge, half by instinct, upon a certain +boy. He was one of the most gentlemanly boys in the school; but there +was a look of cunning in the corner of his eye, and a look of greed in +the corner of his mouth, which now and then came out clear enough to +me. Well, sir, I pondered for a few moments what I should do. I wanted +to avoid calling any attention to him; so I contrived to make the +worst of him in the Latin class--he was not a bad scholar--and so keep +him in when the rest went to play. As soon as they were gone, I took +him into my own room, and said to him, 'Fred, my boy, you knew your +lesson well enough; but I wanted you here. You stole Simmons's +watch.'" + +"You had better mention no names, Mr. Bloomfield," interrupted his +wife. + +"I beg your pardon, my dear. But it doesn't matter. Simmons was eaten +by a tiger, ten years ago. And I hope he agreed with him, for he never +did with anybody else I ever heard of. He was the worst boy I ever +knew.--'You stole Simmons's watch. Where is it?' He fell on his knees, +as white as a sheet. 'I sold it,' he said, in a voice choked with +terror. 'God help you, my boy!' I exclaimed. He burst out crying. +'Where did you sell it?' He told me. 'Where's the money you got for +it?' 'That's all I have left,' he answered, pulling out a small +handful of shillings and halfcrowns. 'Give it me,' I said. He gave it +me at once. 'Now you go to your lesson, and hold your tongue.' I got a +sovereign of my own to make up the sum--I could ill spare it, sir, but +the boy could worse spare his character--and I hurried off to the +place where he had sold the watch. To avoid scandal, I was forced to +pay the man the whole price, though I daresay an older man would have +managed better. At all events, I brought it home. I contrived to put +it in the boy's own box, so that the whole affair should appear to +have been only a trick, and then I gave the culprit a very serious +talking-to. He never did anything of the sort again, and died an +honourable man and a good officer, only three months ago, in India. A +thousand times over did he repay me the money I had spent for him, and +he left me this gold watch in his will--a memorial, not so much of his +fault, as of his deliverance from some of its natural consequences." + +The schoolmaster pulled out the watch as he spoke, and we all looked +at it with respect. + +It was a simple story and simply told. But I was pleased to see that +Adela took some interest in it. I remembered that, as a child, she had +always liked better to be told a story than to have any other +amusement whatever. And many a story I had had to coin on the spur of +the moment for the satisfaction of her childish avidity for that kind +of mental bull's-eye. + +When we gentlemen were left alone, and the servants had withdrawn, +Mr. Bloomfield said to our host: + +"I am sorry to see Miss Cathcart looking so far from well, colonel. I +hope you have good advice for her." + +"Dr. Wade has been attending her for some time, but I don't think he's +doing her any good." + +"Don't you think it might be well to get the new doctor to see her? +He's quite a remarkable man, I assure you." + +"What! The young fellow that goes flying about the country in boots +and breeches?" + +"Well, I suppose that is the man I mean. He's not so very young +though--he's thirty at least. And for the boots and breeches--I asked +him once, in a joking way, whether he did not think them rather +unprofessional. But he told me he saved ever so much time in open +weather by going across the country. 'And,' said he, 'if I can see +patients sooner, and more of them, in that way, I think it is quite +professional. The other day,' he said, 'I was sent for, and I went +straight as the crow flies, and I beat a little baby only by five +minutes after all.' Of course after that there was nothing more to +say." + +"He has very queer notions, hasn't he?" + +"Yes, he has, for a medical man. He goes to church, for instance." + +"I don't count that a fault." + +"Well, neither do I. Rather the contrary. But one of the profession +here says it is for the sake of being called out in the middle of the +service." + +"Oh! that is stale. I don't think he would find that answer. But it is +a pity he is not married." + +"So it is. I wish he were. But that is a fault that may be remedied +some day. One thing I know about him is, that when I called him in to +see one of my boarders, he sat by his bedside half an hour, watching +him, and then went away without giving him any medicine." + +"I don't see the good of that. What do you make of that? I call it +very odd." + +"He said to me: 'I am not sure what is the matter with him. A wrong +medicine would do him more harm than the right one would do him +good. Meantime he is in no danger. I will come and see him to-morrow +morning.' Now I liked that, because it showed me that he was thinking +over the case. The boy was well in two days. Not that that indicates +much. All I say is, he is not a common man." + +"I don't like to dismiss Dr. Wade." + +"No; but you must not stand on ceremony, if he is doing her no good. +You are judge enough of that." + +I thought it best to say nothing; but I heartily approved of all the +honest gentleman said; and I meant to use my persuasion afterwards, if +necessary, to the same end; for I liked all he told about the new +doctor. I asked his name. + +"Mr. Armstrong," answered the schoolmaster. + +"Armstrong--" I repeated. "Is not that the name of the new curate?" + +"To be sure. They are brothers. Henry, the doctor, is considerably +younger than the curate." + +"Did the curate seek the appointment because the doctor was here +before him?" + +"I suppose so. They are much attached to each other." + +"If he is at all equal as a doctor to what I think his brother is as a +preacher, Purleybridge is a happy place to possess two such healers," +I said. + +"Well, time will show," returned Mr. Bloomfield. + +All this time Percy sat yawning, and drinking claret. When we joined +the ladies, we found them engaged in a little gentle chat. There was +something about Mrs. Bloomfield that was very pleasing. The chief +ingredient in it was a certain quaint repose. She looked as if her +heart were at rest; as if for her everything, was right; as if she had +a little room of her own, just to her mind, and there her soul sat, +looking out through the muslin curtains of modest charity, upon the +world that went hurrying and seething past her windows. When we +entered-- + +"I was just beginning to tell Miss Cathcart," she said, "a curious +history that came under my notice once. I don't know if I ought +though, for it is rather sad." + +"Oh! I like sad stories," said Adela. + +"Well, there isn't much of romance in it either, but I will cut it +short now the gentlemen are come. I knew the lady. She had been +married some years. And report said her husband was not overkind to +her. All at once she disappeared, and her husband thought the worst of +her. Knowing her as well as I did, I did not believe a word of it. Yet +it was strange that she had left her baby, her only child, of a few +months, as well as her husband. I went to see her mother directly I +heard of it, and together we went to the police; and such a search as +we had! We traced her to a wretched lodging, where she had been for +two nights, but they did not know what had become of her. In fact, +they had turned her out because she had no money. Some information +that we had, made us go to a house near Hyde Park. We rang the +bell. Who should open the door, in a neat cap and print-gown, but the +poor lady herself! She fainted when she saw her mother. And then the +whole story came out. Her husband was stingy, and only allowed her +very small sum for housekeeping; and perhaps she was not a very good +manager, for good management is a gift, and everybody has not got +it. So she found that she could not clear off the butcher's bills on +the sum allowed her; and she had let the debt gather and gather, till +the thought of it, I believe, actually drove her out of her mind for +the time. She dared not tell her husband; but she knew it must come +out some day, and so at last, quite frantic with the thought of it, +she ran away, and left her baby behind her." + +"And what became of her?" asked Adela. + +"Her husband would never hear a word in her favour. He laughed at her +story in the most scornful way, and said he was too old a bird for +that. In fact, I believe he never saw her again. She went to her +mother's. She will have her child now, I suppose; for I hear that the +wretch of a husband, who would not let her have him, is dead. I +daresay she is happy at last. Poor thing! Some people would need stout +hearts, and have not got them." + +Adela sighed. This story, too, seemed to interest her. + +"What a miserable life!" she said. + +"Well, Miss Cathcart," said the schoolmaster, "no doubt it was. But +every life that has to be lived, can be lived; and however impossible +it may seem to the onlookers, it has its own consolations, or, at +least, interests. And I always fancy the most indispensable thing to a +life is, that it should be interesting to those who have it to +live. My wife and I have come through a good deal, but the time when +the life looked hardest to others, was not, probably, the least +interesting to us. It is just like reading a book: anything will do if +you are taken up with it." + +"Very good philosophy! Isn't it, Adela?" said the colonel. + +Adela cast her eyes down, as if with a despairing sense of rebuke, and +did not reply. + +"I wish you would tell Miss Cathcart," resumed the schoolmaster to his +wife, "that little story about the foolish lad you met once. And you +need not keep back the little of your own history that belongs to +it. I am sure the colonel will excuse you." + +"I insist on hearing the whole of it," said the colonel, with a smile. + +And Mrs. Bloomfield began. + +Let me say here once for all, that I cannot keep the tales I tell in +this volume from partaking of my own peculiarities of style, any more +than I could keep the sermon free of such; for of course I give them +all at second hand; and sometimes, where a joint was missing, I have +had to supply facts as well as words. But I have kept as near to the +originals as these necessities and a certain preparation for the press +would permit me. + +Mrs. Bloomfield, I say, began: + +"A good many years ago, now, on a warm summer evening, a friend, whom +I was visiting, asked me to take a drive with her through one of the +London parks. I agreed to go, though I did not care much about it. I +had not breathed the fresh air for some weeks; yet I felt it a great +trouble to go. I had been ill, and my husband was ill, and we had +nothing to do, and we did not know what would become of us. So I was +anything but cheerful. I _knew_ that all was for the best, as my good +husband was always telling me, but my eyes were dim and my heart was +troubled, and I could not feel sure that God cared quite so much for +us as he did for the lilies. + +"My friend was very cheerful, and seemed to enjoy everything; but a +kind of dreariness came over me, and I began comparing the loveliness +of the summer evening with the cold misty blank that seemed to make up +my future. My wretchedness grew greater and greater. The very colours +of the flowers, the blue of the sky, the sleep of the water, seemed to +push us out of the happy world that God had made. And yet the children +seemed as happy as if God were busy making, the things before their +eyes, and holding out each thing, as he made it, for them to look at. + +"I should have told you that we had two children then." + +"I did not know you had any family," interposed the colonel. + +"Yes, we had two then. One of them is now in India, and the other was +not long out of heaven.--Well, I was glad when my friend stopped the +carriage, and got out with the children, to take them close to the +water's edge, and let them feed the swans. I liked better to sit in +the carriage alone--an ungrateful creature, in the midst of causes for +thankfulness. I did not care for the beautiful things about me; and I +was not even pleased that other people should enjoy them. I listlessly +watched the well-dressed ladies that passed, and hearkened +contemptuously to the drawling way in which they spoke. So bad and +proud was I, that I said in my heart, 'Thank God! I am not like them +yet!' Then came nursemaids and children; and I did envy the servants, +because they had work to do, and health to do it, and wages for it +when it was done. The carriage was standing still all this time, you +know. Then sickly-looking men passed, with still more sickly-looking +wives, some of them leading a child between them. But even their faces +told of wages, and the pleasure of an evenings walk in the park. And +now I was able to thank God that they had the parks to walk in. Then +came tottering by, an old man, apparently of eighty years, leaning on +the arm of his grand-daughter, I supposed--a tidy, gentle-looking +maiden. As they passed, I heard the old man say: 'He maketh me to lie +down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters.' And +his quiet face looked as if the fields were yet green to his eyes, and +the still waters as pleasant as when he was a little child. + +"At last I caught sight of a poor lad, who was walking along very +slowly, looking at a gay-coloured handkerchief which he had spread out +before him. His clothes were rather ragged, but not so ragged as +old. On his head was what we now call a wide-awake. It was very limp +and shapeless; but some one that loved him had trimmed it with a bit +of blue ribbon, the ends of which hung down on his shoulder. This gave +him an odd appearance even at a distance. When he came up and I could +see his face, it explained everything. There was a constant smile +about his mouth, which in itself was very sweet; but as it had nothing +to do with the rest of the countenance, the chief impression it +conveyed was of idiotcy. He came near the carriage, and stood there, +watching some men who were repairing the fence which divided the road +from the footpath. His hair was almost golden, and went waving about +in the wind. His eye was very large and clear, and of a bright +blue. But it had no meaning in it. He would have been very handsome, +had there been mind in his face; but as it was, the very regularity of +his unlighted features made the sight a sadder one. His figure was +young; but his face might have belonged to a man of sixty. + +"He opened his mouth, stuck out his under jaw, and stood staring and +grinning at the men. At last one of them stopped to take breath, and, +catching sight of the lad, called out: + +"'Why, Davy! is that you?' + +"'Ya-as, it be,' replied Davy, nodding his head. + +"'Why, Davy, it's ever so long since I clapped eyes on ye!' said the +man. 'Where ha' ye been?' + +"'I 'aint been nowheres, as I knows on.' + +"'Well, if ye 'aint been nowheres, what have ye been doing? Flying +your kite?' + +"Davy shook his head sorrowfully, and at the same time kept on +grinning foolishly. + +"'I 'aint got no kite; so I can't fly it.' + +"'But you likes flyin' kites, don't ye?' said his friend, kindly. + +"'Ya-as,' answered Davy, nodding his head, and rubbing his hands, and +laughing out. 'Kites is such fun! I wish I'd got un.' + +"Then he looked thoughtfully, almost moodily, at the man, and said: + +"'Where's _your_ kite? I likes kites. Kites is friends to me.' + +"But by this time the man had turned again to his work, and was busy +driving a post into the ground; so he paid no attention to the lad's +question." + +"Why, Mrs. Bloomfield," interrupted the colonel, "I should just like +you to send out with a reconnoitring party, for you seem to see +everything and forget nothing." + +"You see best and remember best what most interests you, colonel; and +besides that, I got a good rebuke to my ingratitude from that poor +fellow. So you see I had reason to remember him. I hope I don't tire +you, Miss Cathcart." + +"Quite the contrary," answered our hostess. + +"By this time," resumed Mrs. Bloomfield, "another man had come up. He +had a coarse, hard-featured face; and he tried, or pretended to try, +to wheel his barrow, which was full of gravel, over Davy's toes. The +said toes were sticking quite bare through great holes in an old pair +of woman's boots. Then he began to tease him rather roughly. But Davy +took all his banter with just the same complacency and mirth with +which he had received the kindliness of the other man. + +"'How's yer sweetheart, Davy?' he said. + +"'Quite well, thank ye,' answered Davy. + +"'What's her name?' + +"'Ha! ha! ha! I won't tell ye that.' + +"'Come now, Davy, tell us her name.' + +"'Noa.' + +"'Don't be a fool.' + +"'I aint a fool. But I won't tell you her name.' + +"'I don't believe ye've got e'er a sweetheart. Come now.' + +"'I have though.' + +"'I don't believe ye.' + +"'I have though. I was at church with her last Sunday.' + +"Suddenly the man, looking hard at Davy, changed his tone to one of +surprise, and exclaimed: + +"'Why, boy, ye've got whiskers! Ye hadn't them the last time I see'd +ye. Why, ye _are_ set up now! When are ye going to begin to shave? +Where's your razors?' + +"''Aint begun yet,' replied Davy. 'Shall shave some day, but I 'aint +got too much yet.' + +"As he said this, he fondled away at his whiskers. They were few in +number, but evidently of great value in his eyes. Then he began to +stroke his chin, on which there was a little down visible--more like +mould in its association with his curious face than anything of more +healthy significance. After a few moments' pause, his tormentor began +again: + +"'Well, I can't think where ye got them whiskers as ye're so fond +of. Do ye know where ye got them?' + +"Davy took out his pocket-handkerchief, spread it out before him, and +stopped grinning. + +"'Yaas; to be sure I do,' he said at last. + +"'Ye do?' growled the man, half humorously, half scornfully. + +"'Yaas,' said Davy, nodding his head again and again. + +"'Did ye buy 'em?' + +"'Noa,' answered Davy; and the sweetness of the smile which he now +smiled was not confined to his mouth, but broke like light, the light +of intelligence, over his whole face. + +"'Were they gave to ye?' pursued the man, now really curious to hear +what he would say. + +"'Yaas,' said the poor fellow; and he clapped his hands in a kind of +suppressed glee. + +"'Why, who gave 'em to ye?' + +"Davy looked up in a way I shall never forget, and, pointing up with +his finger too, said nothing. + +"'What do ye mean?' said the man. 'Who gave ye yer whiskers?' + +"Davy pointed up to the sky again; and then, looking up with an +earnest expression, which, before you saw it, you would not have +thought possible to his face, said, + +"'Blessed Father.' + +"'Who?' shouted the man. + +"'Blessed Father,' Davy repeated, once more pointing upwards. + +"'Blessed Father!' returned the man, in a contemptuous tone; 'Blessed +Father!--I don't know who _that_ is. Where does he live? I never heerd +on _him_.' + +"Davy looked at him as if he were sorry for him. Then going closer up +to him, he said: + +"'Didn't you though? He lives up there'--again pointing to the +sky. 'And he is so kind! He gives me lots o' things.' + +"'Well!' said the man, 'I wish he'd give me thing's. But you don't +look so very rich nayther.' + +"'Oh! but he gives me lots o' things; and he's up there, and he gives +everybody lots o' things as likes to have 'em.' + +"'Well, what's he gave you?' + +"'Why, he's gave me some bread this mornin', and a tart last night--he +did.' + +"And the boy nodded his head, as was his custom, to make his assertion +still stronger. + +"'But you was sayin' just now, you hadn't got a kite. Why don't he +give you one?' + +"'_He'll_ give me one fast 'nuff,' said Davy, grinning again, and +rubbing his hands. + +"Miss Cathcart, I assure you I could have kissed the boy. And I hope I +felt some gratitude to God for giving the poor lad such trust in Him, +which, it seemed to me, was better than trusting in the +three-per-cents, colonel; for you can draw upon him to no end o' good +things. So Davy thought anyhow; and he had got the very thing for the +want of which my life was cold and sad, and discontented. Those words, +_Blessed Father_, and that look that turned his vacant face, like +Stephen's, into the face of an angel, because he was looking up to the +same glory, were in my ears and eyes for days. And they taught me, and +comforted me. He was the minister of God's best gifts to me. And to +how many more, who can tell? For Davy believed that God did care for +his own children. + +"Davy sauntered away, and before my friend came back with the +children, I had lost sight of him; but at my request we moved on +slowly till we should find him again. Nor had we gone far, before I +saw him sitting in the middle of a group of little children. He was +showing them the pictures on his pocket-handkerchief. I had one +sixpence in my purse--it was the last I had, Mr. Smith." + +Here, from some impulse or other, Mrs. Bloomfield addressed me. + +"But I wasn't so poor but I could borrow, and it was a small price to +give for what I had got; and so, as I was not able to leave the +carriage, I asked my friend to take it to him, and tell him that +Blessed Father had sent him that to buy a kite. The expression of +childish glee upon his face, and the devout God bless you, Lady, upon +his tongue, were strangely but not incongruously mingled. + +"Well, it was my last sixpence then, but here I and my husband are, +owing no man anything, and spending a happy Christmas Day, with many +thanks to Colonel and Miss Cathcart." + +"No, my good Madam," said the colonel; "it is we who owe you the +happiest part of our Christmas Day. Is it not, Adela?" + +"Yes, papa, it is indeed," answered Adela. + +Then, with some hesitation, she added, + +"But do you think it was quite fair? It was _you_, Mrs. Bloomfield, +who gave the boy the sixpence." + +"I only said God sent it," said Mrs. Bloomfield. + +"Besides," I interposed, "the boy never doubted it; and I think, after +all, with due submission to my niece, he was the best judge." + +"I should be only too happy to grant it," she answered, with a +sigh. "Things might be all right if one could believe that-- +thoroughly, I mean." + +"At least you will allow," I said, "that this boy was not by any means +so miserable as he looked." + +"Certainly," she answered, with hearty emphasis. "I think he was much +to be envied." + +Here I discovered that Percy was asleep on a sofa. + +Other talk followed, and the colonel was looking very thoughtful. Tea +was brought in, and soon after, our visitors rose to take their leave. + +"You are not going already?" said the colonel. + +"If you will excuse us," answered the schoolmaster. "We are early +birds." + +"Well, will you dine with us this day week?" + +"With much pleasure," answered both in a breath. + +It was clear both that the colonel liked their simple honest company, +and that he saw they might do his daughter good; for her face looked +very earnest and sweet; and the clearness that precedes rain was +evident in the atmosphere of her eyes. + +After their departure we soon separated; and I retired to my room full +of a new idea, which I thought, if well carried out, might be of still +further benefit to the invalid. + +But before I went to bed, I had made a rough translation of the +following hymn of Luther's, which I have since completed--so far at +least as the following is complete. I often find that it helps to keep +good thoughts before the mind, to turn them into another shape of +words. + + From heaven above I come to you, + To bring a story good and new: + Of goodly news so much I bring-- + I cannot help it, I must sing. + + To you a child is come this morn, + A child of holy maiden born; + A little babe, so sweet and mild-- + It is a joy to see the child! + + 'Tis little Jesus, whom we need + Us out of sadness all to lead: + He will himself our Saviour be, + And from all sinning set us free. + + Here come the shepherds, whom we know; + Let all of us right gladsome go, + To see what God to us hath given-- + A gift that makes a stable heaven. + + Take heed, my heart. Be lowly. So + Thou seest him lie in manger low: + That is the baby sweet and mild; + That is the little Jesus-child. + + Ah, Lord! the maker of us all! + How hast thou grown so poor and small, + That there thou liest on withered grass-- + The supper of the ox and ass? + + Were the world wider many-fold, + And decked with gems and cloth of gold, + 'Twere far too mean and narrow all, + To make for Thee a cradle small. + + Rough hay, and linen not too fine, + The silk and velvet that are thine; + Yet, as they were thy kingdom great, + Thou liest in them in royal state. + + And this, all this, hath pleased Thee, + That Thou mightst bring this truth to me: + That all earth's good, in one combined, + Is nothing to Thy mighty mind. + + Ah, little Jesus! lay thy head + Down in a soft, white, little bed, + That waits Thee in this heart of mine, + And then this heart is always Thine. + + Such gladness in my heart would make + Me dance and sing for Thy sweet sake. + Glory to God in highest heaven, + For He his son to us hath given! + + + +Chapter IV. + +The new doctor. + + +Next forenoon, wishing to have a little private talk with my friend, I +went to his room, and found him busy writing to Dr. Wade. He consulted +me on the contents of the letter, and I was heartily pleased with the +kind way in which he communicated to the old gentleman the resolution +he had come to, of trying whether another medical man might not be +more fortunate in his attempt to treat the illness of his daughter. + +"I fear Dr. Wade will be offended, say what I like," said he. + +"It is quite possible to be too much afraid of giving offence," I +said; "But nothing can be more gentle and friendly than the way in +which you have communicated the necessity." + +"Well, it is a great comfort you think so. Will you go with me to call +on Mr. Armstrong?" + +"With much pleasure," I answered; and we set out at once. + +Shown into the doctor's dining-room, I took a glance at the books +lying about. I always take advantage of such an opportunity of gaining +immediate insight into character. Let me see a man's book-shelves, +especially if they are not extensive, and I fancy I know at once, in +some measure, what sort of a man the owner is. One small bookcase in a +recess of the room seemed to contain all the non-professional library +of Mr. Armstrong. I am not going to say here what books they were, or +what books I like to see; but I was greatly encouraged by the +consultation of the auguries afforded by the backs of these. I was +still busy with them, when the door opened, and the doctor entered. He +was the same man whom I had seen in church looking at Adela. He +advanced in a frank manly way to the colonel, and welcomed him by +name, though I believe no introduction had ever passed between +them. Then the colonel introduced me, and we were soon chatting very +comfortably. In his manner, I was glad to find that there was nothing +of the professional. I hate the professional. I was delighted to +observe, too, that what showed at a distance as a broad honest country +face, revealed, on a nearer view, lines of remarkable strength and +purity. + +"My daughter is very far from well," said the colonel, in answer to a +general inquiry. + +"So I have been sorry to understand," the doctor rejoined. "Indeed, it +is only too clear from her countenance." + +"I want you to come and see if you can do her any good." + +"Is not Dr. Wade attending her?" + +"I have already informed him that I meant to request your advice." + +"I shall be most happy to be of any service; but--might I suggest the +most likely means of enabling me to judge whether I can be useful or +not?" + +"Most certainly." + +"Then will you give me the opportunity of seeing her in a non- +professional way first? I presume, from the fact that she is able to +go to church, that she can be seen at home without the formality of an +express visit?" + +"Certainly," replied the colonel, heartily. "Do me the favour to dine +with us this evening, and, as far as that can go you will see her--to +considerable disadvantage, I fear," he concluded, smiling sadly. + +"Thank you; thank you. If in my power, I shall not fail you. But you +must leave a margin for professional contingencies." + +"Of course. That is understood." + +I had been watching Mr. Armstrong during this brief conversation, and +the favourable impressions I had already received of him were +deepened. His fine manly vigour, and the simple honesty of his +countenance, were such as became a healer of men. It seemed altogether +more likely that health might flow from such a source, than from the +_pudgey_, flabby figure of snuff-taking Dr. Wade, whose face had no +expression except a professional one. Mr. Armstrong's eyes looked you +full in the face, as if he was determined to understand you if he +could; and there seemed to me, with my foolish way of seeing signs +everywhere, something of tenderness about the droop of those long +eyelashes, so that his interpretation was not likely to fail from lack +of sympathy. Then there was the firm-set mouth of his brother the +curate, and a forehead as broad as his, if not so high or so full of +modelling. When we had taken our leave, I said to the colonel, + +"If that man's opportunity has been equal to his qualification, I +think we may have great hopes of his success in encountering this +unknown disease of poor Adela." + +"God grant it!" was all my friend's reply. + +When he informed Adela that he expected Mr. Henry Armstrong to dinner, +she looked at him with a surprised expression, as much as to +say--"Surely you do not mean to give me into his hands!" but she only +said: + +"Very well, papa." + +So Mr. Armstrong came, and made himself very agreeable at dinner, +talking upon all sorts of subjects, and never letting drop a single +word to remind Adela that she was in the presence of a medical +man. Nor did he seem to take any notice of her more than was required +by ordinary politeness; but behavior without speciality of any sort, +he drew his judgments from her general manner, and such glances as +fell naturally to his share, of those that must pass between all the +persons making up a small dinner-company. This enabled him to see her +as she really was, for she remained quite at such ease as her +indisposition would permit. He drank no wine at dinner, and only one +glass after; and then asked the host if he might go to the drawing- +room. + +"And will you oblige me by coming with me, Mr. Smith? I can see that +you are at home here." + +Of course the colonel consented, and I was at his service. Adela rose +from her couch when we entered the room. Mr. Armstrong went up to her +gently, and said: + +"Are you able to sing something, Miss Cathcart? I have heard of your +singing." + +"I fear not," she answered; "I have not sung for months." + +"That is a pity. You must lose something by letting yourself get out +of practice. May I play something to you, then?" + +She gave him a quick glance that indicated some surprise, and said: + +"If you please. It will give me pleasure." + +"May I look at your music first?" + +"Certainly." + +He turned over all her loose music from beginning to end. Then without +a word seated himself at the grand piano. + +Whether he extemporized or played from memory, I, as ignorant of music +as of all other accomplishments, could not tell, but even to stupid +me, what he did play spoke. I assure my readers that I hardly know a +term in the whole musical vocabulary; and yet I am tempted to try to +describe what this music was like. + +In the beginning, I heard nothing but a slow sameness, of which I was +soon weary. There was nothing like an air of any kind in it. It seemed +as if only his fingers were playing, and his mind had nothing to do +with it. It oppressed me with a sense of the common-place, which, of +all things, I hate. At length, into the midst of it, came a few notes, +like the first chirp of a sleepy bird trying to sing; only the attempt +was half a wail, which died away, and came again. Over and over again +came these few sad notes, increasing in number, fainting, despairing, +and reviving again; till at last, with a fluttering of agonized wings, +as of a soul struggling up out of the purgatorial smoke, the music- +bird sprang aloft, and broke into a wild but unsure jubilation. Then, +as if in the exuberance of its rejoicing it had broken some law of the +kingdom of harmony, it sank, plumb-down, into the purifying fires +again; where the old wailing, and the old struggle began, but with +increased vehemence and aspiration. By degrees, the surrounding +confusion and distress melted away into forms of harmony, which +sustained the mounting cry of longing and prayer. Then all the cry +vanished in a jubilant praise. Stronger and broader grew the +fundamental harmony, and bore aloft the thanksgiving; which, at +length, exhausted by its own utterance, sank peacefully, like a summer +sunset, into a grey twilight of calm, with the songs of the summer +birds dropping asleep one by one; till, at last, only one was left to +sing the sweetest prayer for all, before he, too, tucked his head +under his wing, and yielded to the restoring silence. + +Then followed a pause. I glanced at Adela. She was quietly weeping. + +But he did not leave the instrument yet. A few notes, as of the first +distress, awoke; and then a fine manly voice arose, singing the +following song, accompanied by something like the same music he had +already played. It was the same feelings put into words; or, at least, +something like the same feelings, for I am a poor interpreter of +music: + + Rejoice, said the sun, I will make thee gay + With glory, and gladness, and holiday; + I am dumb, O man, and I need thy voice. + But man would not rejoice. + + Rejoice in thyself said he, O sun; + For thou thy daily course dost run. + In thy lofty place, rejoice if thou can: + For me, I am only a man. + + Rejoice, said the wind, I am free and strong; + I will wake in thy heart an ancient song. + In the bowing woods--hark! hear my voice! + But man would not rejoice. + + Rejoice, O wind, in thy strength, said he, + For thou fulfillest thy destiny. + Shake the trees, and the faint flowers fan: + For me, I am only a man. + + I am here, said the night, with moon and star; + The sun and the wind are gone afar; + I am here with rest and dreams of choice. + But man would not rejoice. + + For he said--What is rest to me, I pray, + Who have done no labour all the day? + He only should dream who has truth behind. + Alas! for me and my kind! + + Then a voice, that came not from moon nor star, + From the sun, nor the roving wind afar, + Said, Man, I am with thee--rejoice, rejoice! + And man said, I will rejoice! + +"A wonderful physician this!" thought I to myself. "He must be a +follower of some of the old mystics of the profession, counting +harmony and health all one." + +He sat still, for a few moments, before the instrument, perhaps to +compose his countenance, and then rose and turned to the company. + +The colonel and Percy had entered by this time. The traces of tears +were evident on Adela's face, and Percy was eyeing first her and then +Armstrong, with some signs of disquietude. Even during dinner it had +been clear to me that Percy did not like the doctor, and now he was as +evidently jealous of him. + +A little general conversation ensued, and the doctor took his +leave. The colonel followed him to the door. I would gladly have done +so too, but I remained in the drawing-room. All that passed between +them was: + +"Will you oblige me by calling on Sunday morning, half an hour before +church-time, colonel?" + +"With pleasure." + +"Will you come with me, Smith?" asked my friend, after informing me of +the arrangement. + +"Don't you think I might be in the way?" + +"Not at all. I am getting old and stupid. I should like you to come +and take care of me. He won't do Adela any good, I fear." + +"Why do you think so?" + +"He has a depressing effect on her already. She is sure not to like +him. She was crying when I came into the room after dinner." + +"Tears are not grief," I answered; "nor only the signs of grief, when +they do indicate its presence. They are a relief to it as well. But I +cannot help thinking there was some pleasure mingled with those tears, +for he had been playing very delightfully. He must be a very gifted +man." + +"I don't know anything about that. You know I have no ear for +music.--That won't cure my child anyhow." + +"I don't know," I answered. "It may help." + +"Do you mean to say he thinks to cure her by playing the piano to her? +If he thinks to come here and do that, he is mistaken." + +"You forget, Cathcart, that I have had no more conversation with him +than yourself. But surely you have seen no reason to quarrel with him +already." + +"No, no, my dear fellow. I do believe I am getting a crusty old +curmudgeon. I can't bear to see Adela like this." + +"Well, I confess, I have hopes from the new doctor; but we will see +what he says on Sunday." + +"Why should we not have called to-morrow?" + +"I can't answer that. I presume he wants time to think about the +case." + +"And meantime he may break his neck over some gate that he can't or +won't open." + +"Well, I should be sorry." + +"But what's to become of us then?" + +"Ah! you allow that? Then you do expect something of him?" + +"To be sure I do, only I am afraid of making a fool of myself, and +that sets me grumbling at him, I suppose." + +Next day was Saturday; and Mrs. Cathcart, Percy's mother, was expected +in the evening. I had a long walk in the morning, and after that +remained in my own room till dinner time. I confess I was prejudiced +against her; and just because I was prejudiced, I resolved to do all I +could to like her, especially as it was Christmas-tide. Not that one +time is not as good as another for loving your neighbour, but if ever +one is reminded of the duty, it is then. I schooled myself all I +could, and went into the drawing-room like a boy trying to be good; as +a means to which end, I put on as pleasant a face as would come. But +my good resolutions were sorely tried. + + * * * * * + +These asterisks indicate the obliteration of the personal description +which I had given of her. Though true, it was ill-natured. And +besides, so indefinite is all description of this kind, that it is +quite possible it might be exactly like some woman to whom I am +utterly unworthy to hold a candle. So I won't tell what her features +were like. I will only say, that I am certain her late husband must +have considered her a very fine woman; and that I had an indescribable +sensation in the calves of my legs when I came near her. But then, +although I believe I am considered a good-natured man, I confess to +prejudices (which I commonly refuse to act upon), and to profound +dislikes, especially to certain sorts of women, which I can no more +help feeling, than I can help feeling the misery that permeates the +joints of my jaws when I chance to bite into a sour apple. So my +opinions about such women go for little or nothing. + +When I entered the drawing-room, I saw at once that she had +established herself as protectress of Adela, and possibly as mistress +of the house. She leaned back in her chair at a considerable angle, +but without bending her spine, and her hands lay folded in her +lap. She made me a bow with her neck, without in the least altering +the angle of her position, while I made her one of my most profound +obeisances. A few common-places passed between us, and then her +brother-in-law leading her down to dinner, the evening passed by with +politeness on both sides. Adela did not appear to heed her presence +one way or the other. But then of late she had been very inexpressive. + +Percy seemed to keep out of his mother's way as much as possible. How +he amused himself, I cannot imagine. + +Next morning we went to call on the doctor, on our way to church. + +"Well, Mr. Armstrong, what do you think of my daughter?" asked the +colonel. + +"I do not think she is in a very bad way. Has she had any +disappointment that you know of?" + +"None whatever." + +"Ah--I have seen such a case before. There are a good many of them +amongst girls at her age. It is as if, without any disease, life were +gradually withdrawn itself--ebbing back as it were to its source. +Whether this has a physical or a psychological cause, it is impossible +to tell. In her case, I think the later, if indeed it have not a +deeper cause; that is, if I'm right in my hypothesis. A few days will +show me this; and if I am wrong, I will then make a closer examination +of her case. At present it is desirable that I should not annoy her in +any such way. Now for the practical: my conviction is that the best +thing that can be done for her is, to interest her in something, if +possible--no matter what it is. Does she take pleasure in anything?" + +"She used to be very fond of music. But of late I have not heard her +touch the piano." + +"May I be allowed to speak?" I asked. + +"Most certainly," said both at once. + +"I have had a little talk with Miss Cathcart, and I am entirely of +Mr. Armstrong's opinion," I said. "And with his permission--I am +pretty sure of my old friend's concurrence--I will tell you a plan I +have been thinking of. You remember, colonel, how she was more +interested in the anecdotes our friend the Bloomfields told the other +evening, than she has been in anything else, since I came. It seems to +me that the interest she cannot find for herself, we might be able to +provide for her, by telling her stories; the course of which everyone +should be at liberty to interrupt, for the introduction of any remark +whatever. If we once got her interested in anything, it seems to me, +as Mr. Armstrong has already hinted, that the tide of life would begin +to flow again. She would eat better, and sleep better, and speculate +less, and think less about herself--not _of_ herself--I don't mean +that, colonel; for no one could well think less of herself than she +does. And if we could amuse her in that way for a week or two, I think +it would give a fair chance to any physical remedies Mr. Armstrong +might think proper to try, for they act most rapidly on a system in +movement. It would be beginning from the inside, would it not?" + +"A capital plan," said the doctor, who had been listening with marked +approbation; "and I know one who I am sure would help. For my part, I +never told a story in my life, but I am willing to try--after awhile, +that is. My brother, however, would, I know, be delighted to lend his +aid to such a scheme, if colonel Cathcart would be so good as to +include him in the conspiracy. It is his duty as well as mine; for she +is one of his flock. And he can tell a tale, real or fictitious, +better than any one I know." + +"There can be no harm in trying it, gentlemen--with kindest thanks to +you for your interest in my poor child," said the colonel. "I confess +I have not much hope from such a plan, but--" + +"You must not let her know that the thing is got up for her," +interrupted the doctor. + +"Certainly not. You must all come and dine with us, any day you +like. I will call on your brother to-morrow." + +"This Christmas-tide gives good opportunity for such a scheme," I +said. "It will fall in well with all the festivities; and I am quite +willing to open the entertainment with a funny kind of fairy-tale, +which has been growing in my brain for some time." + +"Capital!" said Mr. Armstrong. "We must have all sorts." + +"Then shall it be Monday at six--that is, to-morrow?" asked the +colonel. "Your brother won't mind a short invitation?" + +"Certainly not. Ask him to-day. But I would suggest five, if I might, +to give us more time afterwards." + +"Very well. Let it be five. And now we will go to church." + +The ends of the old oak pews next the chancel were curiously +carved. One had a ladder and a hammer and nails on it. Another a +number of round flat things, and when you counted them you found that +there were thirty. Another had a curious thing--I could not tell what, +till one day I met an old woman carrying just such a bag. On another +was a sponge on the point of a spear. There were more of such +carvings; but these I could see from where I sat. And all the sermon +was a persuading of the people that God really loved them, without any +_if_ or _but_. + +Adela was very attentive to the clergy man; but I could see her glance +wander now and then from his face to that of his brother, who was in +the same place he had occupied on Christmas-day. The expression of her +aunt's face was judicial. + +When we came out of church, the doctor shook hands with me and said: + +"Can I have a word with you, Mr. Smith?" + +"Most gladly," I answered. "Your time is precious: I will walk your +way." + +"Thank you.--I like your plan heartily. But to tell the truth, I fancy +it is more a case for my brother than for me. But that may come about +all in good time, especially as she will now have an opportunity of +knowing him. He is the best fellow in the world. And his wife is as +good as he is. But--I feel I may say to you what I could not well say +to the colonel--I suspect the cause of her illness is rather a +spiritual one. She has evidently a strong mental constitution; and +this strong frame, so to speak, has been fed upon slops; and an +atrophy is the consequence. My hope in your plan is, partly, that it +may furnish a better mental table for her, for the time, and set her +foraging in new direction for the future." + +"But how could you tell that from the very little conversation you had +with her?" + +"It was not the conversation only--I watched everything about her; and +interpreted it by what I know about women. I believe that many of them +go into a consumption just from discontent--the righteous discontent +of a soul which is meant to sit at the Father's table, and so cannot +content itself with the husks which the swine eat. The theological +nourishment which is offered them is generally no better than husks. +They cannot live upon it, and so die and go home to their Father. And +without good spiritual food to keep the spiritual senses healthy and +true, they cannot see the thing's about them as they really are. They +cannot find interest in them, because they cannot find their _own_ +place amoungst them. There was one thing though that confirmed me in +this idea about Miss Cathcart. I looked over her music on purpose, and +I did not find one song that rose above the level of the drawing-room, +or one piece of music that had any deep feeling or any thought in +it. Of course I judged by the composers." + +"You astonish me by the truth and rapidity of your judgements. But how +did you, who like myself are a bachelor, come to know so much about +the minds of women?" + +"I believe in part by reading Milton, and learning from him a certain +high notion about myself and my own duty. None but a pure man can +understand women--I mean the true womanhood that is in them. But more +than to Milton am I indebted to that brother of mine you heard preach +to-day. If ever God made a good man, he is one. He will tell you +himself that he knows what evil is. He drank of the cup, found it full +of thirst and bitterness; cast it from him, and turning to the +fountain of life, kneeled and drank, and rose up a gracious giant. I +say the last--not he. But this brother kept me out of the mire in +which he soiled his own garments, though, thank God! they are clean +enough now. Forgive my enthusiasm, Mr. Smith, about my brother. He is +worthy of it." + +I felt the wind cold to my weak eyes, and did not answer for some +time, lest he should draw unfair conclusions. + +"You should get him to tell you his story. It is well worth hearing; +and as I see we shall be friends all, I would rather you heard it from +his own mouth." + +"I sincerely hope I may call that man my friend, some day." + +"You may do so already. He was greatly taken with you on the journey +down." + +"A mutual attraction then, I am happy to think. Good-bye, I am glad +you like my plan." + +"I think it excellent. Anything hearty will do her good. Isn't there +any young man to fall in love with her?" + +"I don't know of any at present." + +"Only the _best_ thing will make her well; but all true things tend to +healing." + +"But how is it that you have such notions--so different from those of +the mass of your professional brethren?" + +"Oh!" said he, laughing, "if you really want an answer, be it known to +all men that I am a student of Van Helmont." + +He turned away, laughing; and I, knowing nothing of Van Helmont, could +not tell whether he was in jest or in earnest. + +At dinner some remark was made about the sermon, I think by our host. + +"You don't call that the gospel!" said Mrs. Cathcart, with a smile. + +"Why, what do you call it, Jane?" + +"I don't know that I am bound to put a name upon it. I should, +however, call it pantheism." + +"Might I ask you, madam, what you understand by _pantheism_?" + +"Oh! neology, and all that sort of thing." + +"And neology is--?" + +"Really, Mr. Smith, a dinner-table is not the most suitable place in +the world for theological discussion." + +"I quite agree with you, madam," I responded, astonished at my own +boldness.--I was not quite so much afraid of her after this, although +I had an instinctive sense that she did not at all like me. But Percy +was delighted to see his mother discomfited, and laughed into his +plate. She regarded him with lurid eyes for a moment, and then took +refuge in her plate in turn. The colonel was too polite to make any +remark at the time, but when he and I were alone, he said: + +"Smith, I didn't expect it of you. Bravo, my boy!" + +And I, John Smith, felt myself a hero. + + + +Chapter V. + +The light princess. + + +Five o'clock, anxiously expected by me, came, and with it the +announcement of dinner. I think those of us who were in the secret +would have hurried over it, but with Beeves hanging upon our wheels, +we could not. However, at length we were all in the drawing-room, the +ladies of the house evidently surprised that we had come up stairs so +soon. Besides the curate, with his wife and brother, our party +comprised our old friends, Mr. and Mrs. Bloomfield, whose previous +engagement had been advanced by a few days. + +When we were all seated, I began, as if it were quite a private +suggestion of my own: + +"Adela, if you and our friends have no objection, I will read you a +story I have just scribbled off." + +"I shall be delighted, uncle." + +This was a stronger expression of content than I had yet heard her +use, and I felt flattered accordingly. + +"This is Christmas-time, you know, and that is just the time for +story-telling," I added. + +"I trust it is a story suitable to the season," said Mrs. Cathcart, +smiling. + +"Yes, very," I said; "for it is a child's story--a fairy tale, namely; +though I confess I think it fitter for grown than for young children. +I hope it is funny, though. I think it is." + +"So you approve of fairy-tales for children, Mr. Smith?" + +"Not for children alone, madam; for everybody that can relish them." + +"But not at a sacred time like this?" + +And again she smiled an insinuating smile. + +"If I thought God did not approve of fairy-tales, I would never read, +not to say write one, Sunday or Saturday. Would you, madam?" + +"I never do." + +"I feared not. But I must begin, notwithstanding." + +The story, as I now give it, is not exactly as I read it then, +because, of course, I was more anxious that it should be correct when +I prepared it for the press, than when I merely read it before a few +friends. + +"Once upon a time," I began; but I was unexpectedly interrupted by the +clergyman, who said, addressing our host: + +"Will you allow me, Colonel Cathcart, to be Master of the Ceremonies +for the evening?" + +"Certainly, Mr. Armstrong." + +"Then I will alter the arrangement of the party. Here, Henry--don't +get up, Miss Cathcart--we'll just lift Miss Cathcart's couch to this +corner by the fire.--Lie still, please. Now, Mr. Smith, you sit here +in the middle. Now, Mrs. Cathcart, here is an easy chair for you. With +my commanding officer I will not interfere. But having such a jolly +fire it was a pity not to get the good of it. Mr. Bloomfield, here is +room for you and Mrs. Bloomfield." + +"Excellently arranged," said our host. "I will sit by you, Mr. +Armstrong. Percy, won't you come and join the circle?" + +"No, thank you, uncle," answered Percy from a couch, "I am more +comfortable here." + +"Now, Lizzie," said the curate to his wife, "you sit on this stool by +me.--Too near the fire? No?--Very well.--Harry, put the bottle of +water near Mr. Smith. A fellow-feeling for another fellow--you see, +Mr. Smith. Now we're all right, I think; that is, if Mrs. Cathcart is +comfortable." + +"Thanks. Quite." + +"Then we may begin. Now, Mr. Smith.--One word more: anybody may speak +that likes. Now, then." + +So I did begin-- + +"Title: THE LIGHT PRINCESS. + +"Second Title: A FAIRY-TALE WITHOUT FAIRIES." + +"Author: JOHN SMITH, Gentleman. + +"Motto:--'_Your Servant, Goody Gravity_.' + +"From--SIR CHARLES GRANDISON." + +"I must be very stupid, I fear, Mr. Smith; but to tell the truth, _I_ +can't make head or tail of it," said Mrs. Cathcart. + +"Give me leave, madam," said I; "that is my office. Allow me, and I +hope to make both head and tail of it for you. But let me give you +first a mere general, and indeed a more applicable motto for my +story. It is this--from no worse authority than John Milton: + + 'Great bards beside + In sage and solemn times have sung + Of turneys and of trophies hung; + Of forests and enchantments drear, + Where more is meant than meets the ear.' + +"Milton here refers to Spencer in particular, most likely. But what +distinguishes the true bard in such work is, that _more is meant than +meets the ear_; and although I am no bard, I should scorn to write +anything that only spoke to the _ear_, which signifies the surface +understanding." + +General silence followed, and I went on. + +"THE LIGHT PRINCESS. + +"CHAPTER I.--WHAT! NO CHILDREN? + +"Once upon a time, so long ago, that I have quite forgotten the date, +there lived a king and queen who had no children. + +"And the king said to himself: 'All the queens of my acquaintance have +children, some three, some seven, an some as many as twelve; and my +queen has not one. I feel ill-used.' So he made up his mind to be +cross with his wife about it. But she bore it all like a good patient +queen as she was. Then the king grew very cross indeed. But the queen +pretended to take it all as a joke, and a very good one, too. + +"'Why don't you have any daughters, at least?' said he, 'I don't say +sons; that might be too much to expect.' + +"'I am sure, dear king, I am very sorry,' said the queen. + +"'So you ought to be,' retorted the king; 'you are not going to make a +virtue of _that_, surely.' + +"But he was not an ill-tempered king; and, in any matter of less +moment, he would have let the queen have her own way, with all his +heart. This, however, was an affair of state. + +"The queen smiled. + +"'You must have patience with a lady, you know, dear king,' said she. + +"She was, indeed, a very nice queen, and heartily sorry that she could +not oblige the king immediately. + +"The king tried to have patience, but he succeeded very badly. It was +more than he deserved, therefore, when, at last, the queen gave him a +daughter--as lovely a little princess as ever cried. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER II.--WON'T I, JUST? + + +"The day drew near when the infant must be christened. The king wrote +all the invitations with his own hand. Of course somebody was +forgotten. + +"Now, it does not generally matter if somebody is forgotten, but you +must mind who. Unfortunately, the king forgot without intending it; +and the chance fell upon the Princess Makemnoit, which was awkward. +For the Princess was the king's own sister; and he ought not to have +forgotten her. But she had made herself so disagreeable to the old +king, their father, that he had forgot her in making his will; and so +it was no wonder that her brother forgot her in writing his +invitations. But poor relations don't do anything to keep you in mind +of them. Why don't they? The king could not see into the garret she +lived in, could he? She was a sour, spiteful creature. The wrinkles of +contempt crossed the wrinkles of peevishness, and made her face as +full of wrinkles as a pat of butter. If ever a king could be justified +in forgetting anybody, this king was justified in forgetting his +sister, even at a christening. And then she was so disgracefully poor! +She looked very odd, too. Her forehead was as large as all the rest of +her face, and projected over it like a precipice. When she was angry, +her little eyes flashed blue. When she hated anybody, they shone +yellow and green. What they looked like when she loved anybody, I do +not know; for I never heard of her loving anybody but herself, and I +do not think she could have managed that, if she had not somehow got +used to herself. But what made it highly imprudent in the king to +forget her, was--that she was awfully clever. In fact, she was a +witch; and when she bewitched anybody, he very soon had enough of it; +for she beat all the wicked fairies in wickedness, and all the clever +ones in cleverness. She despised all the modes we read of in history, +in which offended fairies and witches have taken their revenges; and +therefore, after waiting and waiting in vain for an invitation, she +made up her mind at last to go without one, and make the whole family +miserable, like a princess and a philosopher. + +"She put on her best gown, went to the palace, was kindly received by +the happy monarch, who forgot that he had forgotten her, and took her +place in the procession to the royal chapel. When they were all +gathered about the font, she contrived to get next to it, and throw +something into the water. She maintained then a very respectful +demeanour till the water was applied to the child's face. But at that +moment she turned round in her place three times, and muttered the +following words, loud enough for those beside her to hear: + + 'Light of spirit, by my charms, + Light of body, every part, + Never weary human arms-- + Only crush thy parents' heart!' + +"They all thought she had lost her wits, and was repeating some +foolish nursery rhyme; but a shudder went through the whole of them. +The baby, on the contrary, began to laugh and crow; while the nurse +gave a start and a smothered cry, for she thought she was struck with +paralysis: she could not feel the baby in her arms. But she clasped it +tight, and said nothing. + +"The mischief was done." + + +Here I came to a pause, for I found the reading somewhat nervous work, +and had to make application to the water-bottle. + +"Bravo! Mr. Smith," cried the clergyman. "A good beginning, I am sure; +for I cannot see what you are driving at." + +"I think I do," said Henry. "Don't you, Lizzie?" + +"No, I don't," answered Mrs. Armstrong. + +"One thing," said Mrs. Cathcart with a smile, not a very sweet one, +but still a smile, "one thing, I must object to. That is, introducing +church ceremonies into a fairy-tale." + +"Why, Mrs. Cathcart," answered the clergyman, taking up the cudgels +for me, "do you suppose the church to be such a cross-grained old +lady, that she will not allow her children to take a few gentle +liberties with their mother? She's able to stand that surely. They +won't love her the less for that." + +"Besides," I ventured to say, "if both church and fairy-tale belong to +humanity, they may occasionally cross circles, without injury to +either. They must have something in common. There is the _Fairy +Queen_, and the _Pilgrim's Progress_, you know, Mrs. Cathcart. I can +fancy the pope even telling his nephews a fairy-tale." + +"Ah, the pope! I daresay." + +"And not the archbishop?" + +"I don't think your reasoning quite correct, Mr. Smith," said the +clergyman; "and I think moreover there is a real objection to that +scene. It is, that no such charm could have had any effect where holy +water was employed as the medium. In fact I doubt if the wickedness +could have been wrought in a chapel at all." + +"I submit," I said. "You are right. I hold up the four paws of my +mind, and crave indulgence." + +"In the name of the church, having vindicated her power over evil +incantations, I permit you to proceed," said Mr. Armstrong, his black +eyes twinkling with fun. + +Mrs. Cathcart smiled, and shook her head. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER III.--SHE CAN'T BE OURS. + +"Her atrocious aunt had deprived the child of all her gravity. If you +ask me how this was effected, I answer: In the easiest way in the +world. She had only to destroy gravitation. And the princess was a +philosopher, and knew all the _ins_ and _outs_ of the laws of +gravitation as well as the _ins_ and _outs_ of her boot-lace. And +being a witch as well, she could abrogate those laws in a moment; or +at least so clog their wheels and rust their bearings, that they would +not work at all. But we have more to do with what followed, than with +how it was done. + +"The first awkwardness that resulted from this unhappy privation was, +that the moment the nurse began to float the baby up and down, she +flew from her arms towards the ceiling. Happily, the resistance of the +air brought her ascending career to a close within a foot of it. There +she remained, horizontal as when she left her nurse's arms, kicking +and laughing amazingly. The nurse in terror flew to the bell, and +begged the footman who answered it, to bring up the house-steps +directly. Trembling in every limb, she climbed upon the steps, and had +to stand upon the very top, and reach up, before she could catch the +floating tail of the baby's long clothes. + +"When the strange fact came to be known, there was a terrible +commotion in the palace. The occasion of its discovery by the king was +naturally a repetition of the nurse's experience. Astonished that he +felt no weight when the child was laid in his arms, he began to wave +her up and--not down; for she slowly ascended to the ceiling as +before, and there remained floating in perfect comfort and +satisfaction, as was testified by her peals of tiny laughter. The king +stood staring up in speechless amazement, and trembled so that his +beard shook like grass in the wind. At last, turning to the queen, who +was just as horror-struck as himself, he said, gasping, staring, and +stammering: + +"'She _can't_ be ours, queen!' + +"Now the queen was much cleverer than the king, and had begun already +to suspect that 'this effect defective came by cause.' + +"'I am sure she is ours,' answered she. 'But we ought to have taken +better care of her at the christening. People who were never invited +ought not to have been present.' + +"'Oh, ho!' said the king, tapping his forehead with his forefinger, 'I +have it all. I've found her out. Don't you see it, queen? Princess +Makemnoit has bewitched her.' + +"'That's just what I say,' answered the queen. + +"'I beg your pardon, my love; I did not hear you. John! bring the +steps I get on my throne with.' + +"For he was a little king with a great throne, like many other kings. + +"The throne-steps were brought, and set upon the dining-table, and +John got upon the top of them. But he could not reach the little +princess, who lay like a baby-laughter-cloud in the air, exploding +continuously. + +"'Take the tongs, John,' said his majesty; and getting up on the +table, he handed them to him. + +"John could reach the baby now, and the little princess was handed +down by the tongs. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER IV.--WHERE IS SHE? + +"One fine summer day, a month after these her first adventures, during +which time she had been very carefully watched, the princess was lying +on the bed in the queen's own chamber, fast asleep. One of the windows +was open, for it was noon, and the day so sultry that the little girl +was wrapped in nothing less etherial than slumber itself. The queen +came into the room, and not observing that the baby was on the bed, +opened another window. A frolicsome fairy wind which had been watching +for a chance of mischief, rushed in at the one window, and taking its +way over the bed where the child was lying, caught her up, and rolling +and floating her along like a piece of flue, or a dandelion-seed, +carried her with it through the opposite window, and away. The queen +went down stairs, quite ignorant of the loss she had herself +occasioned. When the nurse returned, she supposed that her majesty +had carried her off, and, dreading a scolding, delayed making inquiry +about her. But hearing nothing, she grew uneasy, and went at length to +the queen's boudoir, where she found her majesty. + +"'Please your majesty, shall I take the baby?' said she. + +"'Where is she?' asked the queen. + +"'Please forgive me. I know it was wrong.' + +"'What do you mean?' said the queen, looking grave. + +"'Oh! don't frighten me, your majesty!' exclaimed the nurse, clapping +her hands. + +"The queen saw that something was amiss, and fell down in a faint. The +nurse rushed about the palace, screaming, 'My baby! my baby!' + +"Every one ran to the queen's room. But the queen could give no +orders. They soon found out, however, that the princess was missing, +and in a moment the palace was like a bee-hive in a garden. But in a +minute more the queen was brought to herself by a great shout and a +clapping of hands. They had found the princess fast asleep under a +rose-bush, to which the elvish little wind-puff had carried her, +finishing its mischief by shaking a shower of red rose-leaves all over +the little white sleeper. Startled by the noise the servants made, she +woke; and furious with glee, scattered the rose-leaves in all +directions, like a shower of spray in the sunset. + +"She was watched more carefully after this, no doubt; yet it would be +endless to relate all the odd incidents resulting from this +peculiarity of the young princess. But there never was a baby in a +house, not to say a palace, that kept a household in such constant +good humour, at least below stairs. If it was not easy for her nurses +to hold her, certainly she did not make their arms ache. And she was +so nice to play at ball with! There was positively no danger of +letting her fall. You might throw her down, or knock her down, or push +her down, but you couldn't _let_ her down. It is true, you might let +her fly into the fire or the coal-hole, or through the window; but +none of these accidents had happened as yet. If you heard peals of +laughter resounding from some unknown region, you might be sure enough +of the cause. Going down into the kitchen, or _the room_, you would +find Jane and Thomas, and Robert and Susan, all and sum, playing at +ball with the little princess. She was the ball herself, and did not +enjoy it the less for that. Away she went, flying from one to another, +screeching with laughter. And the servants loved the ball itself +better even than the game. But they had to take care how they threw +her, for if she received an upward direction, she would never come +down without being fetched. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER V.--WHAT IS TO BE DONE? + +"But above stairs it was different. One day, for instance, after +breakfast, the king went into his counting-house, and counted out his +money. The operation gave him no pleasure. + +"'To think,' said he to himself, 'that every one of these gold +sovereigns weighs a quarter of an ounce, and my real, live, flesh- +and-blood princess weighs nothing at all!' + +"And he hated his gold sovereigns, as they lay with a broad smile of +self-satisfaction all over their yellow faces. + +"The queen was in the parlour, eating bread and honey. But at the +second mouthful, she burst out crying, and could not swallow it. The +king heard her sobbing. Glad of anybody, but especially of his queen, +to quarrel with, he clashed his gold sovereigns into his money-box, +clapped his crown on his head, and rushed into the parlour. + +"'What is all this about?' exclaimed he. 'What are you crying for, +queen?' + +"'I can't eat it,' said the queen, looking ruefully at the honey-pot. + +"'No wonder!' retorted the king. 'You've just eaten your +breakfast--two turkey eggs, and three anchovies.' + +"'Oh! that's not it!' sobbed her majesty. 'It's my child, my child!' + +"'Well, what's the matter with your child? She's neither up the +chimney nor down the draw-well. Just hear her laughing.' Yet the king +could not help a sigh, which he tried to turn into a cough, saying, + +"'It is a good thing to be light-hearted, I am sure, whether she be +ours or not.' + +"'It is a bad thing to be light-headed,' answered the queen, looking +with prophetic soul, far into the future. + +"''Tis a good thing to be light-handed,' said the king. + +"''Tis a bad thing to be light-fingered,' answered the queen. + +"''Tis a good thing to be light-footed,' said the king. + +"''Tis a bad thing,' began the queen; but the king interrupted her. + +"'In fact,' said he, with the tone of one who concludes an argument in +which he has had only imaginary opponents, and in which, therefore, he +has come off triumphant--'in fact, it is a good thing altogether to be +light-bodied.' + +"'But it is a bad thing altogether to be light-minded,' retorted the +queen, who was beginning to lose her temper. + +"This last answer quite discomfited his majesty, who turned on his +heel, and betook himself to his counting-house again. But he was not +halfway towards it, when the voice of his queen overtook him: + +"'And it's a bad thing to be light-haired,' screamed she, determined +to have more last words, now that her spirit was roused. + +"The queen's hair was black as night; and the king's had been, and his +daughter's was, golden as morning. But it was not this reflection on +his hair that troubled him; it was the double use of the word _light_. +For the king hated all witticisms, and punning especially. And +besides he could not tell whether the queen meant light-_haired_ or +light-_heired_; for why might she not aspirate her vowels when she was +ex-asperated herself?" + +"Now, really," interrupted the clergyman, "I must protest. Mr. Smith, +you bury us under an avalanche of puns, and, I must say, not very good +ones. Now, the story, though humorous, is not of the kind to admit of +such fanciful embellishment. It reminds one rather of a burlesque at a +theatre--the lowest thing, from a literary point of view, to be +found." + +"I submit," was all I could answer; for I feared that he was right. +The passage, as it now stands, is not nearly so bad as it was then, +though, I confess, it is still bad enough. + +"I think," said Mrs. Armstrong, "since criticism is the order of the +evening, and Mr. Smith is so kind as not to mind it, that he makes the +king and queen too silly. It takes away from the reality." + +"Right too, my dear madam," I answered. + +"The reality of a fairy-tale?" said Mrs. Cathcart, as if asking a +question of herself. + +"But will you grant me the justice," said I, "to temper your judgments +of me, if not of my story, by remembering that this is the first thing +of the sort I ever attempted?" + +"I tell you what," said the doctor, "it's very easy to criticise, but +none of you could have written it yourselves." + +"Of course not, for my part," said the clergyman. + +Silence followed; and I resumed. + +"He turned upon his other heel, and rejoined her. She looked angry +still, because she knew that she was guilty, or, what was much the +same, knew that he thought so. + +"'My dear queen,' said he, 'duplicity of any sort is exceedingly +objectionable between married people, of any rank, not to say kings +and queens; and the most objectionable form it can assume is that of +punning.' + +"'There!' said the queen, 'I never made a jest, but I broke it in the +making. I am the most unfortunate woman in the world!' + +"She looked so rueful, that the king took her in his arms; and they +sat down to consult. + +"'Can you bear this?' said the king. + +"'No, I can't,' said the queen. + +"'Well, what's to be done?' said the king. + +"'I'm sure I don't know,' said the queen. 'But might you not try an +apology?' + +"'To my old sister, I suppose you mean?' said the king. + +"'Yes,' said the queen. + +"'Well, I don't mind,' said the king. + +"So he went the next morning to the garret of the princess, and, +making a very humble apology, begged her to undo the spell. But the +princess declared, with a very grave face, that she knew nothing at +all about it. Her eyes, however, shone pink, which was a sign that she +was happy. She advised the king and queen to have patience, and to +mend their ways. The king returned disconsolate. + +The queen tried to comfort him. + +"'We will wait till she is older. She may then be able to suggest +something herself. She will know at least how she feels, and explain +things to us.' + +"'But what if she should marry!' exclaimed the king, in sudden +consternation at the idea. + +"'Well, what of that?' rejoined the queen. + +"'Just think! If she were to have any children! In the course of a +hundred years, the air might be as full of floating children as of +gossamers in autumn.' + +"'That is no business of ours,' replied the queen. 'Besides, by that +time, they will have learned to take care of themselves.' + +"A sigh was the king's only answer. + +"He would have consulted the court physicians; but he was afraid they +would try experiments upon her. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER VI--SHE LAUGHS TOO MUCH. + +"Meantime, notwithstanding awkward occurrences, and griefs that she +brought her parents to, the little princess laughed and grew--not fat, +but plump and tall. She reached the age of seventeen, without having +fallen into, any worse scrape than a chimney; by rescuing her from +which, a little bird-nesting urchin got fame and a black face. Nor, +thoughtless as she was, had she committed anything worse than laughter +at everybody and everything, that came in her way. When she heard that +General Clanrunfort was cut to pieces with all his forces, she +laughed; when she heard that the enemy was on his way to besiege her +papa's capital, she laughed hugely; but when she heard that the city +would most likely be abandoned to the mercy of the enemy's +soldiery--why, then, she laughed immoderately. These were merely +reports invented for the sake of experiment. But she never could be +brought to see the serious side of anything. When her mother cried, +she said: + +"'What queer faces mamma makes! And she squeezes water out of her +cheeks! Funny mama!' + +"And when her papa stormed at her, she laughed, and danced round and +round him, clapping her hands, and crying: + +"'Do it again, papa. Do it again! It's such fun! Dear, funny papa!' + +"And if he tried to catch her, she glided from him in an instant, not +in the least afraid of him, but thinking, it part of the game not to +be caught. With one push of her foot, she would be floating in the air +above his head; or she would go dancing backwards and forwards and +sideways, like a great butterfly. It happened several times, when her +father and mother were holding a consultation about her in private, +that they were interrupted by vainly repressed outbursts of laughter +over their heads; and looking up with indignation, saw her floating at +full length in the air above them, whence she regarded them with the +most comical appreciation of the position. + +"One day an awkward accident happened. The princess had come out upon +the lawn with one of her attendants, who held her by the hand. Spying +her father at the other side of the lawn, she snatched her hand from +the maid's, and sped across to him. Now, when she wanted to run alone, +her custom was to catch up a stone in each hand, so that she might +come down again after a bound. Whatever she wore as part of her attire +had no effect in this way: even gold, when it thus became as it were a +part of herself, lost all its weight for the time. But whatever she +only held in her hands, retained its downward tendency. On this +occasion she could see nothing to catch up, but a huge toad, that was +walking across the lawn as if he had a hundred years to do it in. Not +knowing what disgust meant, for this was one of her peculiarities, she +snatched up the toad, and bounded away. She had almost reached her +father, and he was holding out his arms to receive her, and take from +her lips the kiss which hovered on them like a butterfly on a rosebud, +when a puff of wind blew her aside into the arms of a young page, who +had just been receiving a message from his majesty. Now it was no +great peculiarity in the princess that, once she was set a-going, it +always cost her time and trouble to check herself. On this occasion +there was no time. She _must_ kiss--and she kissed the page. She did +not mind it much; for she had no shyness in her composition; and she +knew, besides, that she could not help it. So she only laughed, like a +musical-box. The poor page fared the worst. For the princess, trying +to correct the unfortunate tendency of the kiss, put out her hands to +keep her off the page; so that, along with the kiss, he received, on +the other cheek, a slap with the huge black toad, which she poked +right into his eye. He tried to laugh, too, but it resulted in a very +odd contortion of countenance, which showed that there was no danger +of his pluming himself on the kiss. Indeed it is not safe to be kissed +by princesses. As for the king, his dignity was greatly hurt, and he +did not speak to the page for a whole month. + +"I may here remark that it was very amusing to see her run, if her +mode of progression could properly be called running. For first she +would make a bound; then, having alighted, she would run a few steps, +and make another bound. Sometimes she would fancy she had reached the +ground before she actually had, and her feet would go backwards and +forwards, running upon nothing at all, like those of a chicken on its +back. Then she would laugh like the very spirit of fun; only in her +laugh there was something missing. What it was, I find myself unable +to describe. I think it was a certain tone, depending upon the +possibility of sorrow--_morbidezza_, perhaps. She never smiled." + +"I am not sure about your physics, Mr. Smith," said the doctor. "If +she had no gravity, no amount of muscular propulsion could have given +her any momentum. And again, if she had no gravity, she must +inevitably have ascended beyond the regions of the atmosphere." + +"Bottle your philosophy, Harry, with the rest of your physics," said +the clergyman, laughing. "Don't you see that she must have had some +weight, only it wasn't worth mentioning, being no greater than the +ordinary weight of the atmosphere. Besides, you know very well that a +law of nature could not be destroyed. Therefore, it was only +witchcraft, you know; and the laws of that remain to be discovered--at +least so far as my knowledge goes.--Mr. Smith, you have gone in for a +fairy-tale; and if I were you, I would claim the immunities of +Fairyland." + +"So I do," I responded fiercely, and went on. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER VII.--TRY METAPHYSICS. + +"After a long avoidance of the painful subject, the king and queen +resolved to hold a counsel of three upon it; and so they sent for the +princess. In she came, sliding and flitting and gliding from one piece +of furniture to another, and put herself at last in an armchair, in a +sitting posture. Whether she could be said _to sit_, seeing she +received no support from the seat of the chair, I do not pretend to +determine. + +"'My dear child,' said the king, 'you must be aware that you are not +exactly like other people.' + +"'Oh, you dear funny papa! I have got a nose and two eyes and all the +rest. So have you. So has mamma.' + +"'Now be serious, my dear, for once,' said the queen. + +"'No, thank you, mamma; I had rather not.' + +"'Would you not like to be able to walk like other people?' said the +king. + +"'No indeed, I should think not. You only crawl. You are such slow +coaches!' + +"'How do you feel, my child?' he resumed, after a pause of +discomfiture. + +"'Quite well, thank you.' + +"'I mean, what do you feel like?' + +"'Like nothing at all, that I know of.' + +"'You must feel like something.' + +"'I feel like a princess with such a funny papa, and such a dear pet +of a queen-mamma!' + +"'Now really!' began the queen; but the princess interrupted her. + +"'Oh! yes,' she added, 'I remember. I have a curious feeling +sometimes, as if I were the only person that had any sense in the +whole world.' + +"She had been trying to behave herself with dignity; but now she burst +into a violent fit of laughter, threw herself backwards over the +chair, and went rolling about the floor in an ecstasy of enjoyment. +The king picked her up easier than one does a down quilt, and replaced +her in her former relation to the chair. The exact preposition +expressing the relation I do not happen to know. + +"'Is there nothing you wish for?' resumed the king, who had learned by +this time that it was quite useless to be angry with her. + +"'O you dear papa!--yes,' answered she. + +"'What is it, my darling?' + +"'I have been longing for it--oh, such a time! Ever since last night.' + +"'Tell me what it is.' + +"'Will you promise to let me have it?' + +"The king was on the point of saying _yes_; but the wiser queen +checked him with a single motion of her head. + +"'Tell me what it is first,' said he. + +"'No, no. Promise first.' + +"'I dare not. What is it?' + +"'Mind I hold you to your promise.--It is--to be tied to the end of a +string--a very long string indeed, and be flown like a kite. Oh, such +fun! I would rain rose-water, and hail sugar-plums, and snow +whipt-cream, and, and, and--' + +"A fit of laughing checked her; and she would have been off again, +over the floor, had not the king started up and caught her just in +time. Seeing that nothing but talk could be got out of her, he rang +the bell, and sent her away with two of her ladies-in-waiting. + +"'Now, queen,' he said, turning to her majesty, 'what _is_ to be +done?' + +"'There is but one thing left,' answered she. 'Let us consult the +college of Metaphysicians.' + +"'Bravo!' cried the king; 'we will.' + +"Now at the head of this college were two very wise Chinese +philosophers--by name, Hum-Drum, and Kopy-Keck. For them the king +sent; and straightway they came. In a long speech, he communicated to +them what they knew very well already--as who did not?--namely, the +peculiar condition of his daughter in relation to the globe on which +she dwelt; and requested them to consult together as to what might be +the cause and probable cure of her _infirmity_. The king laid stress +upon the word, but failed to discover his own pun. The queen laughed; +but Hum-Drum and Kopy-Keck heard with humility and retired in silence. +Their consultation consisted chiefly in propounding and supporting, +for the thousandth time, each his favourite theories. For the +condition of the princess afforded delightful scope for the discussion +of every question arising from the division of thought--in fact of all +the Metaphysics of the Chinese Empire. But it is only justice to say +that they did not altogether neglect the discussion of the practical +question, _what was to be done_. + +"Hum-Drum was a Materialist, and Kopy-Keck was a Spiritualist. The +former was slow and sententious; the latter was quick and flighty; the +latter had generally the first word; the former the last. + +"'I assert my former assertion,' began Kopy-Keck, with a plunge. +'There is not a fault in the princess, body or soul; only they are +wrong put together. Listen to me now, Hum-Drum, and I will tell you in +brief what I think. Don't speak. Don't answer me. I won't hear you +till I have done.--At that decisive moment, when souls seek their +appointed habitations, two eager souls met, struck, rebounded, lost +their way, and arrived each at the wrong place. The soul of the +princess was one of those, and she went far astray. She does not +belong by rights to this world at all, but to some other planet, +probably Mercury. Her proclivity to her true sphere destroys all the +natural influence which this orb would otherwise possess over her +corporeal frame. She cares for nothing here. There is no relation +between her and this world. + +"'She must therefore be taught, by the sternest compulsion, to +take an interest in the earth as the earth. She must study every +department of its history--its animal history; its vegetable history; +its mineral history; its social history; its moral history; its +political history; its scientific history; its literary history; its +musical history; its artistical history; above all, its metaphysical +history. She must begin with the Chinese Dynasty, and end with +Japan. But first of all she must study Geology, and especially the +history of the extinct races of animals--their natures, their habits, +their loves, their hates, their revenges. She must----' + +"'Hold, h-o-o-old!' roared Hum-Drum. 'It is certainly my turn now. My +rooted and insubvertible conviction is that the causes of the +anomalies evident in the princess's condition are strictly and solely +physical. But that is only tantamount to acknowledging that they +exist. Hear my opinion.--From some cause or other, of no importance to +our inquiry, the motion of her heart has been reversed. That +remarkable combination of the suction and the force pump, works the +wrong way--I mean in the case of the unfortunate princess: it draws in +where it should force out, and forces out where it should draw in. The +offices of the auricles and the ventricles are subverted. The blood is +sent forth by the veins, and returns by the arteries. Consequently it +is running the wrong way through all her corporeal organism--lungs and +all. Is it then all mysterious, seeing that such is the case, that on +the other particular of gravitation as well, she should differ from +normal humanity? My proposal for the cure is this: + +"Phlebotomize until she is reduced to the last point of safety. Let it +be effected, if necessary, in a warm bath. When she is reduced to a +state of perfect asphyxy, apply a ligature to the left ancle, drawing +it as tight as the bone will bear. Apply, at the same moment, another +of equal tension around the right wrist. By means of plates +constructed for the purpose, place the other foot and hand under the +receivers of two air-pumps. Exhaust the receivers. Exhibit a pint of +French brandy, and await the result.' + +"'Which would presently arrive in the form of grim Death,' said +Kopy-Keck. + +"'If it should, she would yet die in doing our duty,' retorted +Hum-Drum. + +"But their Majesties had too much tenderness for their volatile +offspring to subject her to either of the schemes of the equally +unscrupulous philosophers. Indeed the most complete knowledge of the +laws of nature would have been unserviceable in her case; for it was +impossible to classify her. She was a fifth imponderable body, sharing +all the other properties of the ponderable. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER VIII.--TRY A DROP OF WATER. + +"Perhaps the best thing for the princess would have been falling in +love. But how a princess who had no gravity at all, could fall into +anything, is a difficulty--perhaps _the_ difficulty. As for her own +feelings on the subject, she did not even know that there was such a +bee-hive of honey and stings to be fallen into. And now I come to +mention another curious fact about her. + +"The palace was built on the shore of the loveliest lake in the world; +and the princess loved this lake more than father or mother. The root +of this preference no doubt, although the princess did not recognize +it as such--was, that, the moment she got into it, she recovered the +natural right of which she had been so wickedly deprived--namely, +gravity. Whether this was owing to the fact that water had been +employed as the means of conveying the injury, I do not know. But it +is certain that she could swim and dive like the duck that her old +nurse said she was. The way that this alleviation of her misfortune +was discovered, was as follows. One summer evening, during the +carnival of the country, she had been taken upon the lake, by the king +and queen, in the royal barge. They were accompanied by many of the +courtiers in a fleet of little boats. In the middle of the lake she +wanted to get into the lord chancellor's barge, for his daughter, who +was a great favourite with her, was in it with her father. The old +king rarely condescended to make light of his misfortune; but on this +occasion he happened to be in a particularly good humour; and, as the +barges approached each other, he caught up the princess to throw her +into the chancellor's barge. He lost his balance, however, and, +dropping into the bottom of the barge, lost his hold of his daughter; +not however before imparting to her the downward tendency of his own +person, though in a somewhat different direction; for, as the king +fell into the boat, she fell into the water. With a burst of delighted +laughter, she disappeared in the lake. A cry of horror ascended from +the boats. They had never seen the princess go down before. Half the +men were under water in a moment; but they had all, one after another, +come up to the surface again for breath, when--tinkle, tinkle, babble +and gush! came the princess's laugh over the water from far +away. There she was, swimming like a swan. Nor would she come out for +king or queen, chancellor or daughter. But though she was obstinate, +she seemed more sedate than usual. Perhaps that was because a great +pleasure spoils laughing. After this, the passion of her life was to +get into the water, and she was always the better behaved and the more +beautiful the more she had of it. Summer and winter it was all the +same; only she could not stay quite so long in the water, when they +had to break the ice to let her in. Any day, from morning till +evening, she might be descried--a streak of white in the blue +water--lying as still as the shadow of a cloud, or shooting along like +a dolphin; disappearing, and coming up again far off, just where one +did not expect her. She would have been in the lake of a night too, if +she could have had her way; for the balcony of her window overhung a +deep pool in it; and through a shallow reedy passage she could have +swum out into the wide wet water, and no one would have been any the +wiser. Indeed when she happened to wake in the moonlight, she could +hardly resist the temptation. But there was the sad difficulty of +getting into it. She had as great a dread of the air as some children +have of the water. For the slightest gust of wind would blow her away; +and a gust might arise in the stillest moment. And if she gave herself +a push towards the water and just failed of reaching it, her situation +would be dreadfully awkward, irrespective of the wind; for at best +there she would have to remain, suspended in her nightgown, till she +was seen and angled for by somebody from the window. + +"'Oh! if I had my gravity,' thought she contemplating the water, 'I +would flash off this balcony like a long white sea-bird, head-long +into the darling wetness. Heigh-ho!' + +"This was the only consideration that made her wish to be like other +people. + +"Another reason for being fond of the water was that in it alone she +enjoyed any freedom. For she could not walk out without a cortege, +consisting in part of a troop of light horse, for fear of the +liberties which the wind might take with her. And the king grew more +apprehensive with increasing years, till at last he would not allow +her to walk abroad without some twenty silken cords fastened to as +many parts of her dress, and held by twenty noble-men. Of course +horseback was out of the question. But she bade good-bye to all this +ceremony when she got into the water. So remarkable were its effects +upon her, especially in restoring her for the time to the ordinary +human gravity, that, strange to say, Hum-Drum and Kopy-Keck agreed in +recommending the king to bury her alive for three years; in the hope +that, as the water did her so much good, the earth would do her yet +more. But the king had some vulgar prejudices against the experiment, +and would not give his consent. Foiled in this, they yet agreed in +another recommendation; which, seeing that the one imported his +opinions from China and the other from Thibet, was very remarkable +indeed. They said that, if water of external origin and application +could be so efficacious, water from a deeper source might work a +perfect cure; in short, that, if the poor afflicted princess could by +any means be made to cry, she might recover her lost gravity. + +"But how was this to be brought about? Therein lay all the difficulty. +The philosophers were not wise enough for this. To make the princess +cry was as impossible as to make her weigh. They sent for a +professional beggar; commanded him to prepare his most touching oracle +of woe; helped him, out of the court charade-box, to whatever he +wanted for dressing up, and promised great rewards in the event of his +success. But it was all in vain. She listened to the mendicant +artist's story, and gazed at his marvellous make-up, till she could +contain herself no longer, and went into the most undignified +contortions for relief, shrieking, positively screeching with +laughter. + +"When she had a little recovered herself, she ordered her attendants +to drive him away, and not give him a single copper; whereupon his +look of mortified discomfiture wrought her punishment and his revenge, +for it sent her into violent hysterics, from which she was with +difficulty recovered. + +"But so anxious was the king that the suggestion should have a fair +trial, that he put himself in a rage one day, and, rushing up to her +room, gave her an awful whipping. But not a tear would flow. She +looked grave, and her laughing sounded uncommonly like screaming--that +was all. The good old tyrant, though he put on his best gold +spectacles to look, could not discover the smallest cloud in the +serene blue of her eyes. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER IX.--PUT ME IN AGAIN. + +"It must have been about this time that the son of a king, who lived a +thousand miles from Lagobel, set out to look for the daughter of a +queen. He travelled far and wide, but as sure as he found a princess, +he found some fault with her. Of course he could not marry a mere +woman, however beautiful, and there was no princess to be found worthy +of him. Whether the prince was so near perfection that he had a right +to demand perfection itself, I cannot pretend to say. All I know is +that he was a fine, handsome, brave, generous, well-bred and well- +behaved youth, as all princes are. + +"In his wanderings he had come across some reports about our princess; +but as everybody said she was bewitched, he never dreamed that she +could bewitch him. For what indeed could a prince do with a princess +that had lost her gravity? Who could tell what she might not lose +next? She might lose her visibility; or her tangibility; or, in short, +the power of making impressions upon the radical sensorium; so that he +should never be able to tell whether she was dead or alive. Of course +he made no further inquiries about her. + +"One day he lost sight of his retinue in a great forest. These forests +are very useful in delivering princes from their courtiers, like a +sieve that keeps back the bran. Then the princes get away to follow +their fortunes. In this they have the advantage of the princesses, who +are forced to marry before they have had a bit of fun. I wish our +princesses got lost in a forest sometimes. + +"One lovely evening, after wandering about for many days, he found +that he was approaching the outskirts of this forest; for the trees +had got so thin that he could see the sunset through them; and he soon +came upon a kind of heath. Next he came upon signs of human +neighbourhood; but by this time it was getting late, and there was +nobody in the fields to direct him. + +"After travelling for another hour, his horse, quite worn out with +long labour and lack of food, fell, and was unable to rise again. So +he continued his journey on foot. At length he entered another +wood--not a wild forest, but a civilized wood, through which a +footpath led him to the side of a lake. Along this path the prince +pursued his way through the gathering darkness. Suddenly he paused, +and listened. Strange sounds came across the water. It was, in fact, +the princess laughing. Now, there was something odd in her laugh, as I +have already hinted; for the hatching of a real hearty laugh, requires +the incubation of gravity; and, perhaps, this was how the prince +mistook the laughter for screaming. Looking over the lake, he saw +something white in the water; and, in an instant, he had torn off his +tunic, kicked off his sandals, and plunged in. He soon reached the +white object, and found that it was a woman. There was not light +enough to show that she was a princess, but quite enough to show that +she was a lady, for it does not want much light to see that. + +"Now, I cannot tell how it came about;--whether she pretended to be +drowning, or whether he frightened her, or caught her so as to +embarrass her; but certainly he brought her to shore in a fashion +ignominious to a swimmer, and more nearly drowned than she had ever +expected to be; for the water had got into her throat as often as she +had tried to speak. + +"At the place to which he bore her, the bank was only a foot or two +above the water; so he gave her a strong lift out of the water, to lay +her on the bank. But, her gravitation ceasing the moment she left the +water, away she went, up into the air, scolding and screaming: + +"'You naughty, _naughty_, NAUGHTY, NAUGHTY man!' + +"No one had ever succeeded in putting her into a passion before.--When +the prince saw her ascend, he thought he must have been bewitched, and +have mistaken a great swan for a lady. But the princess caught hold of +the topmost cone upon a lofty fir. This came off; but she caught at +another; and, in fact, stopped herself by gathering cones, dropping +them as the stalks gave way. The prince, meantime, stood in the water, +forgetting to get out. But the princess disappearing, he scrambled on +shore, and went in the direction of the tree. He found her climbing +down one of the branches, towards the stem. But in the darkness of the +wood, the prince continued in some bewilderment as to what the +phenomenon could be; until, reaching the ground, and seeing him +standing there, she caught hold of him, and said: + +"I'll tell papa.' + +"'Oh, no, you won't!' rejoined the prince. + +"'Yes, I will,' she persisted. 'What business had you to pull me down +out of the water, and throw me to the bottom of the air? I never did +you any harm.' + +"'I am sure I did not mean to hurt you.' + +"'I don't believe you have any brains; and that is a worse loss than +your wretched gravity. I pity you.' + +"The prince now saw that he had come upon the bewitched princess, and +had already offended her. Before he could think what to say next, the +princess, giving a stamp with her foot that would have sent her aloft +again, but for the hold she had of his arm, said angrily: + +"'Put me up directly.' + +"'Put you up where, you beauty?' asked the prince. "He had fallen in +love with her, almost, already; for her anger made her more charming +than anyone else had ever beheld her; and, as far as he could see, +which certainly was not far, she had not a single fault about her, +except, of course, that she had no gravity. A prince, however, must be +incapable of judging of a princess by weight. The loveliness of a +foot, for instance, is hardly to be estimated by the depth of the +impression it can make in mud! + +"'Put you up where, you beauty?' said the prince. + +"'In the water, you stupid!' answered the princess. + +"'Come, then,' said the prince. + +"The condition of her dress, increasing her usual difficulty in +walking, compelled her to cling to him; and he could hardly persuade +himself that he was not in a delightful dream, notwithstanding the +torrent of musical abuse with which she overwhelmed him. The prince +being in no hurry, they reached the lake at quite another part, where +the bank was twenty-five feet high at least. When they stood at the +edge, the prince, turning towards the princess, said: + +"'How am I to put you in?' + +"'That is your business,' she answered, quite snappishly. 'You took me +out--put me in again.' + +"'Very well,' said the prince; and, catching her up in his arms, he +sprang with her from the rock. The princess had just time to give one +delighted shriek of laughter before the water closed over them. When +they came to the surface, the princess, for a moment or two, could not +even laugh, for she had gone down with such a rush, that it was with +difficulty that she recovered her breath. The moment they reached the +surface-- + +"'How do you like falling in?' said the prince. + +"After a few efforts, the princess panted out: + +"'Is that what you call _falling in_?' + +"'Yes,' answered the prince, 'I should think it a very tolerable +specimen.' + +"'It seemed to me like going up,' rejoined she. + +"'My feeling was certainly one of elevation, too,' the prince +conceded. + +"The princess did not appear to understand him, for she retorted his +first question: + +'"How do _you_ like falling in?' + +"'Beyond everything,' answered he; 'for I have fallen in with the only +perfect creature I ever saw.' + +"'No more of that: I am tired of it,' said the princess. + +"Perhaps she shared her father's aversion to punning. + +"'Don't you like falling in, then?' said the prince. + +"'It is the most delightful fun I ever had in my life,' answered +she. 'I never fell before. I wish I could learn. To think I am the +only person in my father's kingdom that can't fall!' + +"Here the poor princess looked almost sad. + +"'I shall be most happy to fall in with you any time you like.' said +the prince, devotedly. + +"'Thank you. I don't know. Perhaps it would not be proper. But I don't +care. At all events, as we have fallen in, let us have a swim +together.' + +"'With all my heart,' said the prince. + +"And away they went, swimming, and diving, and floating, until at last +they heard cries along the shore, and saw lights glancing in all +directions. It was now quite late, and there was no moon. + +"'I must go home,' said the princess. 'I am very sorry, for this is +delightful.' + +"'So am I,' responded the prince. 'But I am glad I haven't a home to +go to--at least, I don't exactly know where it is.' + +"'I wish I hadn't one either,' rejoined the princess; 'it is so +stupid! I have a great mind,' she continued, 'to play them all a +trick. Why couldn't they leave me alone? They won't trust me in the +lake for a single night! You see where that green light is burning? +That is the window of my room. Now if you would just swim there with +me very quietly, and when we are all but under the balcony, give me +such a push--_up_ you call it--as you did a little while ago, I should +be able to catch hold of the balcony, and get in at the window; and +then they may look for me till to-morrow morning!' + +"'With more obedience than pleasure,' said the prince, gallantly; and +away they swam, very gently. + +"'Will you be in the lake to-morrow-night?' the prince ventured to +ask. + +"'To be sure I will. I don't think so. Perhaps,'--was the princess's +somewhat strange answer. + +"But the prince was intelligent enough not to press her further; and +merely whispered, as he gave her the parting lift: 'Don't tell.' The +only answer the princess returned was a roguish look. She was already +a yard above his head. The look seemed to say: 'Never fear. It is too +good fun to spoil that way.' + +"So perfectly like other people had she been in the water, that even +yet the prince could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw her ascend +slowly, grasp the balcony, and disappear through the window. He +turned, almost expecting to see her still by his side. But he was +alone in the water. So he swam away quietly, and watched the lights +roving about the shore for hours after the princess was safe in her +chamber. As soon as they disappeared, he landed in search of his tunic +and sword, and, after some trouble, found them again. Then he made the +best of his way round the lake to the other side. There the wood was +wilder, and the shore steeper--rising more immediately towards the +mountains which surrounded the lake on all sides, and kept sending it +messages of silvery streams from morning to night, and all night +long. He soon found a spot whence he could see the green light in the +princess's room, and where, even in the broad daylight, he would be in +no danger of being discovered from the opposite shore. It was a sort +of cave in the rock, where he provided himself a bed of withered +leaves, and lay down too tired for hunger to keep him awake. All night +long he dreamed that he was swimming with the princess." + +"All that is very improper--to my mind," said Mrs. Cathcart. And she +glanced towards the place where Percy had deposited himself, as if she +were afraid of her boy's morals. + +But if she was anxious on that score, her fears must have been +dispersed the same moment by an indubitable snore from the youth, who +was in his favourite position--lying at full length on a couch. + +"You must remember all this is in Fairyland, aunt," said Adela, with a +smile. "Nobody does what papa and mamma would not like here. We must +not judge the people in fairy tales by precisely the same +conventionalities we have. They must be good after their own fashion." + +"Conventionalities! Humph!" said Mrs. Cathcart. + +"Besides, I don't think the princess was quite accountable," said I. + +"You should have made her so, then," rejoined my critic. + +"Oh! wait a little, madam," I replied. + +"I think," said the clergyman, "that Miss Cathcart's defence is very +tolerably sufficient; and, in my character of Master of the +Ceremonies, I order Mr. Smith to proceed." + +I made haste to do so, before Mrs. Cathcart should open a new battery. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER X.--LOOK AT THE MOON. + +"Early the next morning, the prince set out to look for something to +eat, which he soon found at a forester's hut, where for many following +days he was supplied with all that a brave prince could consider +necessary. And having plenty to keep him alive for the present, he +would not think of wants not yet in existence. Whenever Care intruded, +this prince always bowed him out in the most princely manner. + +"When he returned from his breakfast to his watch-cave, he saw the +princess already floating about in the lake, attended by the king and +queen--whom he knew by their crowns--and a great company in lovely +little boats, with canopies of all the colours of the rainbow, and +flags and streamers of a great many more. It was a very bright day, +and soon the prince, burned up with the heat, began to long for the +water and the cool princess. But he had to endure till the twilight; +for the boats had provisions on board, and it was not till the sun +went down, that the gay party began to vanish. Boat after boat drew +away to the shore, following that of the king and queen, till only +one, apparently the princess's own boat, remained. But she did not +want to go home even yet, and the prince thought he saw her order the +boat to the shore without her. At all events, it rowed away; and now, +of all the radiant company, only one white speck remained. Then the +prince began to sing. + +"And this was what he sang: + + "'Lady fair, + Swan-white, + Lift thine eyes, + Banish night + By the might + Of thine eyes. + + Snowy arms, + Oars of snow, + Oar her hither, + Plashing low + Soft and slow, + Oar her hither. + + Stream behind her + O'er the lake, + Radiant whiteness! + In her wake + Following, following for her sake, + Radiant whiteness! + + Cling about her, + Waters blue; + Part not from her, + But renew + Cold and true + Kisses round her. + + Lap me round, + Waters sad + That have left her; + Make me glad, + For ye had + Kissed her ere ye left her.' + +"Before he had finished his song, the princess was just under the +place where he sat, and looking up to find him. Her ears had led her +truly. + +"'Would you like a fall, princess?' said the prince, looking down. + +"'Ah! there you are! Yes, if you please, prince,' said the princess, +looking up. + +"'How do you know I am a prince, princess?' said the prince. + +"'Because you are a very nice young man, prince,' said the princess. + +"'Come up then, princess.' + +"'Fetch me, prince.' + +"The prince took off his scarf, then his sword-belt, then his tunic, +and tied them all together, and let them down. But the line was far +too short. He unwound his turban, and added it to the rest, when it +was all but long enough; and his purse completed it. The princess just +managed to lay hold of the knot of money, and was beside him in a +moment. This rock was much higher than the other, and the splash and +the dive were tremendous. The princess was in ecstasies of delight, +and their swim was delicious. + +"Night after night they met, and swam about in the dark clear lake; +where such was the prince's delight, that (whether the princess's way +of looking at things infected him, or he was actually getting +light-headed,) he often fancied that he was swimming in the sky +instead of the lake. But when he talked about being in heaven, the +princess laughed at him dreadfully. + +"When the moon came, she brought them fresh pleasure. Everything +looked strange and new in her light, with an old, withered, yet +unfading newness. When the moon was nearly full, one of their great +delights was, to dive deep in the water, and then, turning round, look +up through it at the great blot of light close above them, shimmering +and trembling and wavering, spreading and contracting, seeming to melt +away, and again grow solid. Then they would shoot up through it; and +lo! there was the moon, far off, clear and steady and cold, and very +lovely, at the bottom of a deeper and bluer lake than theirs, as the +princess said. + +"The prince soon found out that while in the water the princess was +very like other people. And besides this, she was not so forward in +her questions, or pert in her replies at sea as on shore. Neither did +she laugh so much; and when she did laugh, it was more gently. She +seemed altogether more modest and maidenly in the water than out of +it. But when the prince, who had really fallen in love when he fell in +the lake, began to talk to her about love, she always turned her head +towards him and laughed. After a while she began to look puzzled, as +if she were trying to understand what he meant, but could +not--revealing a notion that he meant something. But as soon as ever +she left the lake, she was so altered, that the prince said to +himself: 'If I marry her, I see no help for it; we must turn merman +and mermaid, and go out to sea at once.' + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER XI.--HISS! + +"The princess's pleasure in the lake had grown to a passion, and she +could scarcely bear to be out of it for an hour. Imagine then her +consternation, when, diving with the prince one night, a sudden +suspicion seized her, that the lake was not so deep as it used to +be. The prince could not imagine what had happened. She shot to the +surface, and, without a word, swam at full speed towards the higher +side of the lake. He followed, begging to know if she was ill, or what +was the matter. She never turned her head, or took the smallest notice +of his question. Arrived at the shore, she coasted the rocks, with +minute inspection. But she was not able to come to a conclusion, for +the moon was very small, and so she could not see well. She turned +therefore and swam home, without saying a word to explain her conduct +to the prince, of whose presence she seemed no longer conscious. He +withdrew to his cave, in great perplexity and distress. + +"Next day she made many observations, which, alas! strengthened her +fears. She saw that the banks were too dry; and that the grass on the +shore, and the trailing plants on the rocks, were withering away. She +caused marks to be made along the borders, and examined them, day +after day, in all directions of the wind; till at last the horrible +idea became a certain fact--that the surface of the lake was slowly +sinking. + +"The poor princess nearly went out of the little mind she had. It was +awful to her, to see the lake which she loved more than any living +thing, lie dying before her eyes. It sank away, slowly vanishing. The +tops of rocks that had never been seen before, began to appear far +down in the clear water. Before long, they were dry in the sun. It was +fearful to think of the mud that would lie baking and festering, full +of lovely creatures dying, and ugly creatures coming to life, like the +unmaking of a world. And how hot the sun would be without any lake! +She could not bear to swim in it, and began to pine away. Her life +seemed bound up with it; and ever as the lake sank, she pined. People +said she would not live an hour after the lake was gone.--But she +never cried. + +"Proclamation was made to all the kingdom, that whosoever should +discover the cause of the lake's decrease, would be rewarded after a +princely fashion. Hum-Drum and Kopy-Keck applied themselves to their +physics and metaphysics; but in vain. No one came forward to suggest a +cause. + +"Now the fact was, that the old princess was at the root of the +mischief. When she heard that her niece found more pleasure in the +water, than any one else had out of it, she went into a rage, and +cursed herself for her want of foresight. + +"'But,' said she, 'I will soon set all right. The king and the people +shall die of thirst; their brains shall boil and frizzle in their +skulls, before I shall lose my revenge.' + +"And she laughed a ferocious laugh, that made the hairs on the back of +her black cat stand erect with terror. + +"Then she went to an old chest in the room, and opening it, took out +what looked like a piece of dried sea-weed. This she threw into a tub +of water. Then she threw some powder into the water, and stirred it +with her bare arm, muttering over it words of hideous sound, and yet +more hideous import. Then she set the tub aside, and took from the +chest a huge bunch of a hundred rusty keys, that clattered in her +shaking hands. Then she sat down and proceeded to oil them all. Before +she had finished, out from the tub, the water of which had kept on a +slow motion ever since she had ceased stirring it, came the head and +half the body of a huge grey snake. But the witch did not look +round. It grew out of the tub, waving itself backwards and forwards +with a slow horizontal motion, till it reached the princess, when it +laid its head upon her shoulder, and gave a low hiss in her ear. She +started--but with joy; and seeing the head resting on her shoulder, +drew it towards her and kissed it. Then she drew it all out of the +tub, and wound it round her body. It was one of those dreadful +creatures which few have ever beheld--the White Snakes of Darkness. + +"Then she took the keys and went down into her cellar; and as she +unlocked the door, she said to herself, + +"'This _is_ worth living for!' + +"Locking the door behind her, she descended a few steps into the +cellar, and crossing it, unlocked another door into a dark, narrow +passage. This also she locked behind her, and descended a few more +steps. If any one had followed the witch-princess, he would have heard +her unlock exactly one hundred doors, and descend a few steps after +unlocking each. When she had unlocked the last, she entered a vast +cave, the roof of which was supported by huge natural pillars of +rock. Now this roof was the underside of the bottom of the lake. + +"She then untwined the snake from her body, and held it by the tail, +high above her. The hideous creature stretched up its head towards the +roof of the cavern, which it was just able to reach. It then began to +move its head backwards and forwards, with a slow oscillating motion, +as if looking for something. At the same moment, the witch began to +walk round and round the cavern, coming nearer to the centre every +circuit; while the head of the snake described the same path over the +roof that she did over the floor, for she held it up still. And still +it kept slowly oscillating. Round and round the cavern they went thus, +ever lessening the circuit, till, at last, the snake made a sudden +dart, and clung fast to the roof with its mouth. 'That's right, my +beauty!' cried the princess; 'drain it dry.' + +"She let it go, left it hanging, and sat down on a great stone, with +her black cat, who had followed her all round the cave, by her +side. Then she began to knit, and mutter awful words. The snake hung +like a huge leech, sucking at the stone; the cat stood with his back +arched, and his tail like a piece of cable, looking up at the snake; +and the old woman sat and knitted and muttered. Seven days and seven +nights they sat thus; when suddenly the serpent dropped from the roof, +as if exhausted, and shrivelled up like a piece of dried sea-weed on +the floor. The witch started to her feet, picked it up, put it in her +pocket, and looked up at the roof. One drop of water was trembling on +the spot where the snake had been sucking. As soon as she saw that, +she turned and fled, followed by her cat. She shut the door in a +terrible hurry, locked it, and having muttered some frightful words, +sped to the next, which also she locked and muttered over; and so with +all the hundred doors, till she arrived in her own cellar. There she +sat down on the floor ready to faint, but listening with malicious +delight to the rushing of the water, which she could hear distinctly +through all the hundred doors. + +"But this was not enough. Now that she had tasted revenge, she lost +her patience. Without further measures, the lake would be too long in +disappearing. So the next night, with the last shred of the dying old +moon rising, she took some of the water in which she had revived the +snake, put it in a bottle, and set out, accompanied by her cat. Ere +she returned, she had made the entire circuit of the lake, muttering +fearful words as she crossed every stream, and casting into it some of +the water out of her bottle. When she had finished the circuit, she +muttered yet again, and flung a handful of the water towards the +moon. Every spring in the country ceased to throb and bubble, dying +away like the pulse of a dying man. The next day there was no sound of +falling water to be heard along the borders of the lake. The very +courses were dry; and the mountains showed no silvery streaks down +their dark sides. And not alone had the fountains of mother Earth +ceased to flow; for all the babies throughout the country were crying +dreadfully--only without tears. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER XII.--WHERE IS THE PRINCE? + +"Never since the night when the princess left him so abruptly, had the +prince had a single interview with her. He had seen her once or twice +in the lake; but as far as he could discover, she had not been in it +any more at night. He had sat and sung, and looked in vain for his +Nereid; while she, like a true Nereid, was wasting away with her lake, +sinking as it sank, withering as it dried. When at length he +discovered the change that was taking place in the level of the water, +he was in great alarm and perplexity. He could not tell whether the +lake was dying because the lady had forsaken it; or whether the lady +would not come because the lake had begun to sink. But he resolved to +know so much at least. + +"He disguised himself, and, going to the palace, requested to see the +lord chamberlain. His appearance at once gained his request; and the +lord chamberlain being a man of some insight, perceived that there was +more in the prince's solicitation than met the ear. He felt likewise +that no one could tell whence a solution of the present difficulties +might arise. So he granted the prince's prayer to be made shoe-black +to the princess. It was rather knowing in the prince to request such +an easy post; for the princess could not possibly soil as many shoes +as other princesses. + +"He soon learned all that could be told about the princess. He went +nearly distracted; but, after roaming about the lake for days, and +diving in every depth that remained, all that he could do was to put +an extra-polish on the dainty pair of boots that was never called for. + +"For the princess kept her room, with the curtains drawn to shut out +the dying lake. But she could not shut it out of her mind for a +moment. It haunted her imagination so that she felt as if her lake +were her soul, drying up within her, first to become mud, and then +madness and death. She brooded over the change, with all its dreadful +accompaniments, till she was nearly out of her mind. As for the +prince, she had forgotten him. However much she had enjoyed his +company in the water, she did not care for him without it. But she +seemed to have forgotten her father and mother too. + +"The lake went on sinking. Small slimy spots began to appear, which +glittered steadily amidst the changeful shine of the water. These grew +to broad patches of mud, which widened and spread, with rocks here and +there, and floundering fishes and crawling eels swarming about. The +people went everywhere catching these, and looking for anything that +might have been dropped into the water. + +"At length the lake was all but gone; only a few of the deepest pools +remaining unexhausted. + +"It happened one day that a party of youngsters found themselves on +the brink of one of these pools, in the very centre of the lake. It +was a rocky basin of considerable depth. Looking in, they saw at the +bottom something that shone yellow in the sun. A little boy jumped in +and dived for it. It was a plate of gold, covered with writing. They +carried it to the king. + +"On one side of it stood these words: + + 'Death alone from death can save. + Love is death, and so is brave. + Love can fill the deepest grave. + Love loves on beneath the wave.' + +"Now this was enigmatical enough to the king and courtiers. But the +reverse of the plate explained it a little. Its contents amounted to +this: + +"_If the lake should disappear, they must find the hole through which +the water ran. But it would be useless to try to stop it by any +ordinary means. There was but one effectual mode.--The body of a +living man could alone stanch the flow. The man must give himself of +his own will; and the lake must take his life as it filled. Otherwise +the offering would be of no avail. If the nation could not provide one +hero, it was time it should perish._ + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER XIII.--HERE I AM. + +"This was a very disheartening revelation to the king. Not that he was +unwilling to sacrifice a subject, but that he was hopeless of finding +a man willing to sacrifice himself. No time could be lost, however; +for the princess was lying motionless on her bed, and taking no +nourishment but lake-water, which was now none of the best. Therefore +the king caused the contents of the wonderful plate of gold to be +published throughout the country. + +"No one, however, came forward. + +"The prince, having gone several days' journey into the forest, to +consult a hermit whom he had met there on his way to Lagobel, knew +nothing of the oracle till his return. + +"When he had acquainted himself with all the particulars, he sat down +and thought. + +"'She would die, if I didn't do it; and life would be nothing to me +without her: so I shall lose nothing by doing it. And life will be as +pleasant to her as ever, for she will soon forget me, and there will +be so much more beauty and happiness in the world. To be sure I shall +not see it.'--Here the poor prince gave a sigh.--'How lovely the lake +will be in the moonlight, with that glorious creature sporting in it +like a wild goddess! It is rather hard to be drowned by inches, +though. Let me see--that will be seventy inches of me to drown.'--Here +he tried to laugh, but could not.--'The longer the better, however,' +he resumed; 'for can I not bargain that the princess shall be beside +me all the time? So I shall see her once more, kiss her perhaps, who +knows?--and die looking in her eyes. It will be no death. At least I +shall not feel it. And to see the lake filling for the beauty +again!--All right! I am ready.' + +"He kissed the princess's boot, laid it down, and hurried to the +king's apartment. But feeling, as he went, that anything sentimental +would be disagreeable, he resolved to carry off the whole affair with +burlesque. So he knocked at the door of the king's counting-house, +where it was all but a capital crime to disturb him. When the king +heard the knock, he started up, and opened the door in a rage. Seeing +only the shoe-black, he drew his sword. This, I am sorry to say, was +his usual mode of asserting his regality, when he thought his dignity +was in danger. But the prince was not in the least alarmed. + +"'Please your majesty, I'm your butler,' said he. + +"'My butler! you lying rascal? What do you mean?' + +"'I mean, I will cork your big bottle.' + +"'Is the fellow mad?' bawled the king, raising the point of his sword. + +"'I will put a stopper--plug--what you call it, in your leaky lake, +grand monarch,' said the prince. + +"The king was in such a rage, that before he could speak he had time +to cool, and to reflect that it would be great waste to kill the only +man who was willing to be useful in the present emergency, seeing that +in the end the insolent fellow would be as dead as if he had died by +his majesty's own hand. + +"'Oh!' said he at last, putting up his sword with difficulty--it was +so long; 'I am obliged to you, you young fool! Take a glass of wine?' + +"'No, thank you,' replied the prince. + +"'Very well,' said the king. 'Would you like to run and see your +parents before you make your experiment?' + +"'No, thank you,' said the prince. + +"'Then we will go and look for the hole at once,' said his majesty, +and proceeded to call some attendants. + +"'Stop, please your majesty; I have a condition to make,' interposed +the prince. + +"'What!' exclaimed the king; 'a condition! and with me! How dare you?' + +"'As you please,' said the prince coolly. 'I wish your majesty good +morning.' + +"'You wretch! I will have you put in a sack, and stuck in the hole.' + +"'Very well, your majesty,' replied the prince, becoming a little more +respectful, lest the wrath of the king should deprive him of the +pleasure of dying for the princess. 'But what good will that do your +majesty? Please to remember that the oracle says the victim must offer +himself.' + +"'Well, you _have_ offered yourself,' retorted the king. + +"'Yes, upon one condition.' + +"'Condition again!' roared the king, once more drawing his sword. +'Begone! Somebody else will be glad enough to take the honour off your +shoulders.' + +"'Your majesty knows it will not be easy to get one to take my place.' + +"'Well, what is your condition?' growled the king, feeling that the +prince was right. + +"'Only this,' replied the prince: 'that, as I must on no account die +before I am fairly drowned, and the waiting will be rather wearisome, +the princess, your daughter, shall go with me, feed me with her own +hands, and look at me now and then, to comfort me; for you must +confess it is rather hard. As soon as the water is up to my eyes, she +may go and be happy, and forget her poor shoe-black.' + +"Here the prince's voice faltered, and he very nearly grew +sentimental, in spite of his resolutions. + +"'Why didn't you tell me before what your condition was? Such a fuss +about nothing!' exclaimed the king. + +"'Do you grant it?' persisted the prince. + +"'I do,' replied the king. + +"'Very well. I am ready.' + +"'Go and have some dinner, then, while I set my people to find the +place.' + +"The king ordered out his guards, and gave directions to the officers +to find the hole in the lake at once. So the bed of the lake was +marked out in divisions, and thoroughly examined; and in an hour or +so, the hole was discovered. It was in the middle of a stone, near the +centre of the lake, in the very pool where the golden plate had been +found. It was a three-cornered hole, of no great size. There was water +all round the stone, but none was flowing through the hole. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER XIV.--THIS IS VERY KIND OF YOU. + +"The prince went to dress for the occasion, for he was resolved to die +like a prince. + +"When the princess heard that a man had offered to die for her, she +was so transported that she jumped off the bed, feeble as she was, and +danced about the room for joy. She did not care who the man was; that +was nothing to her. The hole wanted stopping; and if only a man would +do, why, take one. In an hour or two more, everything was ready. Her +maid dressed her in haste, and they carried her to the side of the +lake. When she saw it, she shrieked, and covered her face with her +hands. They bore her across to the stone, where they had already +placed a little boat for her. The water was not deep enough to float +it, but they hoped it would be, before long. They laid her on +cushions, placed in the boat wines and fruits and other nice things, +and stretched a canopy over all. + +"In a few minutes, the prince appeared. The princess recognized him at +once; but did not think it worth while to acknowledge him. + +"'Here I am,' said the prince. 'Put me in.' + +"'They told me it was a shoe-black,' said the princess. + +"'So I am,' said the prince. 'I blacked your little boots three times +a day, because they were all I could get of you. Put me in.' + +"The courtiers did not resent his bluntness, except by saying to each +other, that he was taking it out in impudence. + +"But how was he to be put in? The golden plate contained no +instructions on this point. The prince looked at the hole, and saw but +one way. He put both his legs into it, sitting on the stone, and, +stooping forward, covered the two corners that remained open, with his +two hands. In this uncomfortable position he resolved to abide his +fate, and, turning to the people, said: + +"'Now you can go.' + +"The king had already gone home to dinner. + +"'Now you can go,' repeated the princess after him, like a parrot. + +"The people obeyed her, and went. + +"Presently a little wave flowed over the stone, and wetted one of the +prince's knees. But he did not mind it much. He began to sing, and the +song he sang was this: + + "'As a world that has no well, + Darkly bright in forest-dell; + As a world without the gleam + Of the downward-going stream; + As a world without the glance + Of the ocean's fair expanse; + As a world where never rain + Glittered on the sunny plain; + Such, my heart, thy world would be, + If no love did flow in thee. + + "'As a world without the sound + Of the rivulets under ground; + Or the bubbling of the spring + Out of darkness wandering; + Or the mighty rush and flowing + Of the river's downward going; + Or the music-showers that drop + On the outspread beech's top; + Or the ocean's mighty voice, + When his lifted waves rejoice; + Such, my soul, thy world would be, + If no love did sing in thee. + + "'Lady, keep thy world's delight; + Keep the waters in thy sight. + Love hath made me strong to go, + For thy sake, to realms below, + Where the water's shine and hum + Through the darkness never come: + Let, I pray, one thought of me + Spring, a little well, in thee; + Lest thy loveless soul be found + Like a dry and thirsty ground.' + +"'Sing again, prince. It makes it less tedious,' said the princess. + +"But the prince was too much overcome to sing any more. And a long +pause followed. + +"'This is very kind of you, prince,' said the princess at last, quite +coolly, as she lay in the boat with her eyes shut. + +"'I am sorry I can't return the compliment,' thought the prince; 'but +you are worth dying for after all.' + +"Again a wavelet, and another, and another, flowed over the stone, and +wetted both the prince's knees thoroughly; but he did not speak or +move. Two--three--four hours passed in this way, the princess +apparently fast asleep, and the prince very patient. But he was much +disappointed in his position, for he had none of the consolation he +had hoped for. + +"At last he could bear it no longer. + +"'Princess!' said he. + +"But at the moment, up started the princess, crying, + +"'I'm afloat! I'm afloat!' + +"And the little boat bumped against the stone. + +"'Princess!' repeated the prince, encouraged by seeing her wide awake, +and looking eagerly at the water. + +"'Well?' said she, without once looking round. + +"'Your papa promised that you should look at me; and you haven't +looked at me once.' + +"'Did he? Then I suppose I must. But I am so sleepy!' + +"'Sleep then, darling, and don't mind me,' said the poor prince. + +"'Really, you are very good,' replied the princess. 'I think I will go +to sleep again.' + +"'Just give me a glass of wine and a biscuit, first,' said the prince +very humbly. + +"'With all my heart,' said the princess, and gaped as she said it. + +"She got the wine and the biscuit, however; and, coming nearer with +them, + +"'Why, prince,' she said, 'you don't look well! Are you sure you don't +mind it?' + +"'Not a bit,' answered he, feeling very faint indeed. 'Only, I shall +die before it is of any use to you, unless I have something to eat.' + +"'There, then!' said she, holding out the wine to him. + +"'Ah! you must feed me. I dare not move my hands. The water would run +away directly.' + +"'Good gracious!' said the princess; and she began at once to feed him +with bits of biscuit, and sips of wine. + +"As she fed him, he contrived to kiss the tips of her fingers now and +then. She did not seem to mind it, one way or the other. But the +prince felt better. + +"'Now, for your own sake, princess,' said he, 'I cannot let you go to +sleep. You must sit and look at me, else I shall not be able to keep +up.' + +"'Well, I will do anything I can to oblige you,' answered she, with +condescension; and, sitting down, she did look at him, and kept +looking at him with wonderful steadiness, considering all things. + +"The sun went down, and the moon came up; and, gush after gush, the +waters were flowing over the rock. They were up to the prince's waist +now. + +"'Why can't we go and have a swim?' said the princess. 'There seems to +be water enough just about here.' + +"'I shall never swim more,' said the prince. + +"'Oh! I forgot,' said the princess, and was silent. + +"So the water grew and grew, and rose up and up on the prince. And the +princess sat and looked at him. She fed him now and then. The night +wore on. The waters rose and rose. The moon rose likewise, higher and +higher, and shone full on the face of the dying prince. The water was +up to his neck. + +"'Will you kiss me, princess?' said he feebly at last; for the fun was +all out of him now. + +"'Yes, I will,' answered the princess; and kissed him with a long, +sweet, cold kiss. + +"'Now,' said he, with a sigh of content, 'I die happy.' + +"He did not speak again. The princess gave him some wine for the last +time: he was past eating. Then she sat down again, and looked at +him. The water rose and rose. It touched his chin. It touched his +lower lip. It touched between his lips. He shut them hard to keep it +out. The princess began to feel strange. It touched his upper lip. He +breathed through his nostrils. The princess looked wild. It covered +his nostrils. Her eyes looked scared, and shone strange in the +moonlight. His head fell back; the water closed over it; and the +bubbles of his last breath bubbled up through the water. The princess +gave a shriek, and sprang into the lake. + +"She laid hold first of one leg, then of the other, and pulled and +tugged, but she could not move either. She stopped to take breath, and +that made her think that he could not get any breath. She was frantic. +She got hold of him, and held his head above the water, which was +possible now his hands were no longer on the hole. But it was of no +use, for he was past breathing. + +"Love and water brought back all her strength. She got under the +water, and pulled and pulled with her whole might, till, at last, she +got one leg out. The other easily followed. How she got him into the +boat she never could tell; but when she did, she fainted away. Coming +to herself, she seized the oars, kept herself steady as best she +could; and rowed and rowed, though she had never rowed before. Round +rocks, and over shallows, and through mud, she rowed, till she got to +the landing-stairs of the palace. By this time her people were on the +shore, for they had heard her shriek. She made them carry the prince +to her own room, and lay him in her bed, and light a fire, and send +for the doctors. + +"'But the lake, your Highness!' said the Chamberlain, who, roused by +the noise, came in, in his night-cap. + +"'Go and drown yourself in it!' said she. + +"This was the last rudeness of which the princess was ever guilty; and +one must allow that she had good cause to feel provoked with the lord +chamberlain. + +"Had it been the king himself, he would have fared no better. But both +he and the queen were fast asleep. And the chamberlain went back to +his bed. So the princess and her old nurse were left with the prince. +Somehow, the doctors never came. But the old nurse was a wise woman, +and knew what to do. + +"They tried everything for a long time without success. The princess +was nearly distracted between hope and fear, but she tried on and on, +one thing after another, and everything over and over again. + +"At last, when they had all but given it up, just as the sun rose, the +prince opened his eyes. + + * * * * * + +"CHAPTER XV.--LOOK AT THE RAIN! + +"The princess burst into a passion of tears, and _fell_ on the floor. +There she lay for an hour, and her tears never ceased. All the pent-up +crying of her life was spent now. And a rain came on, such as had +never been seen in that country. The sun shone all the time, and the +great drops, which fell straight to the earth, shone likewise. The +palace was in the heart of a rainbow. It was a rain of rubies, and +sapphires, and emeralds, and topazes. The torrents poured from the +mountains like molten gold; and if it had not been for its +subterraneous outlet, the lake would have overflowed and inundated the +country. It was full from shore to shore. + +"But the princess did not heed the lake. She lay on the floor and +wept. And this rain within doors was far more wonderful than the rain +out of doors. For when it abated a little, and she proceeded to rise, +she found, to her astonishment, that she could not. At length, after +many efforts, she succeeded in getting upon her feet. But she tumbled +down again directly. Hearing her fall, her old nurse uttered a yell of +delight, and ran to her, screaming: + +"'My darling child! She's found her gravity!' + +"'Oh! that's it, is it?' said the princess, rubbing her shoulder and +her knee alternately. 'I consider it very unpleasant. I feel as if I +should be crushed to pieces.' + +"'Hurrah!' cried the prince, from the bed. 'If you're all right, +princess, so am I. How's the lake?' + +"'Brimful,' answered the nurse. + +"'Then we're all jolly.' + +"'That we are, indeed!' answered the princess, sobbing. + +"And there was rejoicing all over the country that rainy day. Even the +babies forgot their past troubles, and danced and crowed amazingly. +And the king told stories, and the queen listened to them. And he +divided the money in his box, and she the honey in her pot, to all the +children. And there was such jubilation as was never heard of before. + +"Of course the prince and princess were betrothed at once. But the +princess had to learn to walk, before they could be married with any +propriety. And this was not so easy, at her time of life, for she +could walk no more than a baby. She was always falling down and +hurting herself. + +"'Is this the gravity you used to make so much of?' said she, one day, +to the prince. 'For my part, I was a great deal more comfortable +without it.' + +"'No, no; that's not it. This is it,' replied the prince, as he took +her up, and carried her about like a baby, kissing her all the time. +'This is gravity.' + +"'That's better,' said she. 'I don't mind that so much.' + +"And she smiled the sweetest, loveliest smile in the prince's face. +And she gave him one little kiss, in return for all his; and he +thought them overpaid, for he was beside himself with delight. I fear +she complained of her gravity more than once after this, +notwithstanding. + +"It was a long time before she got reconciled to walking. But the pain +of learning it, was quite counterbalanced by two things, either of +which would have been sufficient consolation. The first was, that the +prince himself was her teacher; and the second, that she could tumble +into the lake as often as she pleased. Still, she preferred to have +the prince jump in with her; and the splash they made before, was +nothing to the splash they made now. + +"The lake never sank again. In process of time, it wore the roof of +the cavern quite through, and was twice as deep as before. + +"The only revenge the princess took upon her aunt, was to tread pretty +hard on her gouty toe, the next time she saw her. But she was sorry +for it the very next day, when she heard that the water had undermined +her house, and that it had fallen in the night, burying her in its +ruins; whence no one ever ventured to dig up her body. There she lies +to this day. + +"So the prince and princess lived and were happy; and had crowns of +gold, and clothes of cloth, and shoes of leather, and children of boys +and girls, not one of whom was ever known, on the most critical +occasion, to lose the smallest atom of his or her due proportion of +gravity." + + * * * * * + +"Bravo!" + +"Capital!" + +"Very good indeed!" + +"Quite a success!" + +cried my complimentary friends. + +"I don't think the princess could have rowed, though--without gravity, +you know," said the schoolmaster. + +"But she did," said Adela. "I won't have my uncle found fault with. It +is a very funny, and a very pretty story." + +"What is the moral of it?" drawled Mrs. Cathcart, with the first +syllable of _moral_ very long and very gentle. + +"That you need not be afraid of ill-natured aunts, though they are +witches," said Adela. + +"No, my dear; that's not it," I said. "It is, that you need not mind +forgetting your poor relations. No harm will come of it in the end." + +"I think the moral is," said the doctor, "that no girl is worth +anything till she has cried a little." + +Adela gave him a quick glance, and then cast her eyes down. Whether he +had looked at her I don't know. But I should think not.--Neither the +clergyman nor his wife had made any remark. I turned to them. + +"I am afraid you do not approve of my poor story," I said. + +"On the contrary," replied Mr. Armstrong, "I think there is a great +deal of meaning in it, to those who can see through its fairy-gates. +What do you think of it, my dear?" + +"I was so pleased with the earnest parts of it, that the fun jarred +upon me a little, I confess," said Mrs. Armstrong. "But I daresay that +was silly." + +"I think it was, my dear. But you can afford to be silly sometimes, in +a good cause." + +"You might have given us the wedding." said Mrs. Bloomfield. + +"I am an old bachelor, you see. I fear I don't give weddings their +due," I answered. "I don't care for them--in stories, I mean." + +"When will you dine with us again?" asked the colonel. + +"When you please," answered the curate. + +"To-morrow, then?" + +"Rather too soon that, is it not? Who is to read the next story?" + +"Why, you, of course," answered his brother. + +"I am at your service," rejoined Mr. Armstrong. "But to-morrow!" + +"Don't you think, Ralph," said his wife, "you could read better if you +followed your usual custom of dining early?" + +"I am sure I should, Lizzie. Don't you think, Colonel Cathcart, it +would be better to come in the evening, just after your dinner? I like +to dine early, and I am a great tea-drinker. If we might have a huge +tea-kettle on the fire, and tea-pot to correspond on the table, and I, +as I read my story, and the rest of the company, as they listen, might +help ourselves, I think it would be very jolly, and very homely." + +To this the colonel readily agreed. I heard the ladies whispering a +little, and the words--"Very considerate indeed!" from Mrs. +Bloomfield, reached my ears. Indeed I had thought that the colonel's +hospitality was making him forget his servants. And I could not help +laughing to think what Beeves's face would have been like, if he had +heard us all invited to dinner again, the next day. + +Whether Adela suspected us now, I do not know. She said nothing to +show it. + +Just before the doctor left, with his brother and sister, he went up +to her, and said, in a by-the-bye sort of way: + +"I am sorry to hear that you have not been quite well of late, Miss +Cathcart. You have been catching cold, I am afraid. Let me feel your +pulse." + +She gave him her wrist directly, saying: + +"I feel much better to-night, thank you." + +He stood--listening to the pulse, you would have said--his whole +attitude was so entirely that of one listening, with his eyes doing +nothing at all. He stood thus for a while, without consulting his +watch, looking as if the pulse had brought him into immediate +communication with the troubled heart itself, and he could feel every +flutter and effort which it made. Then he took out his watch and +counted. + +Now that his eyes were quite safe, I saw Adela's eyes steal up to his +face, and rest there for a half a minute with a reposeful expression. +I felt that there was something healing in the very presence and touch +of the man--so full was he of health and humanity; and I thought Adela +felt that he was a good man, and one to be trusted in. + +He gave her back her hand, as it were, so gently did he let it go, and +said: + +"I will send you something as soon as I get home, to take at once. I +presume you will go to bed soon?" + +"I will, if you think it best." + +And so Mr. Henry Armstrong was, without more ado, tacitly installed as +physician to Miss Adela Cathcart; and she seemed quite content with +the new arrangement. + + +Chapter VI. + +The bell. + + +Before the next meeting took place, namely, after breakfast on the +following morning, Percy having gone to visit the dogs, Mrs. Cathcart +addressed me: + +"I had something to say to my brother, Mr. Smith, but--" + +"And you wish to be alone with him? With all my heart," I said. + +"Not at all, Mr. Smith," she answered, with one of her smiles, which +were quite incomprehensible to me, until I hit upon the theory that +she kept a stock of them for general use, as stingy old ladies keep up +their half worn ribbons to make presents of to servant-maids; "I only +wanted to know, before I made a remark to the colonel, whether +Dr. Armstrong--" + +"Mr. Armstrong lays no claim to the rank of a physician." + +"So much the better for my argument. But is he a friend of yours, +Mr. Smith?" + +"Yes--of nearly a week's standing." + +"Oh, then, I am in no danger of hurting your feelings." + +"I don't know that," thought I, but I did not say it. + +"Well, Colonel Cathcart--excuse the liberty I am taking--but surely +you do not mean to dismiss Dr. Wade, and give a young man like that +the charge of your daughter's health at such a crisis." + +"Dr. Wade is dismissed already, Jane. He did her no more good than any +old woman might have done." + +"But such a young man!" + +"Not so very young," I ventured to say. "He is thirty at least." + +But the colonel was angry with her interference; for, an impetuous man +always, he had become irritable of late. + +"Jane," he said, "is a man less likely to be delicate because he is +young? Or does a man always become more refined as he grows older? For +my part--" and here his opposition to his unpleasant sister-in-law +possibly made him say more than he would otherwise have conceded--"I +have never seen a young man whose manners and behaviour I liked +better." + +"Much good that will do her! It will only hasten the mischief. You men +are so slow to take a hint, brother; and it is really too hard to be +forced to explain one's self always. Don't you see that, whether he +cures her or not, he will make her fall in love with him? And you +won't relish that, I fancy." + +"You won't relish it, at all events. But mayn't he fall in love with +her as well?" thought I; which thought, a certain expression in the +colonel's face kept me from uttering. I saw at once that his sister's +words had set a discord in the good man's music. He made no reply; and +Mrs. Cathcart saw that her arrow had gone to the feather. I saw what +she tried to conceal--the flash of success on her face. But she +presently extinguished it, and rose and left the room. I thought with +myself that such an arrangement would be the very best thing for +Adela; and that, if the blessedness of woman lies in any way in the +possession of true manhood, she, let her position in society be what +it might compared with his, and let her have all the earls in the +kingdom for uncles, would be a fortunate woman indeed, to marry such a +man as Harry Armstrong;--for so much was I attracted to the man, that +I already called him Harry, when I and Myself talked about him. But I +was concerned to see my old friend so much disturbed. I hoped however +that his good generous heart would right its own jarring chords before +long, and that he would not spoil a chance of Adela's recovery, +however slight, by any hasty measures founded on nothing better than +paternal jealousy. I thought, indeed, he had gone too far to make that +possible for some time; but I did not know how far his internal +discomfort might act upon his behaviour as host, and so interfere with +the homeliness of our story-club, upon which I depended not a little +for a portion of the desired result. + +The motive of Mrs. Cathcart's opposition was evident. She was a +partizan of Percy; for Adela was a very tolerable fortune, as people +say. + +These thoughts went through my mind, as thoughts do, in no time at +all; and when the lady had closed the door behind her with protracted +gentleness, I was ready to show my game; in which I really considered +my friend and myself partners. + +"Those women," I said, (women forgive me!), with a laugh which I trust +the colonel did not discover to be a forced one--"Those women are +always thinking about falling in love and that sort of foolery. I +wonder she isn't jealous of me now! Well, I do love Adela better than +any man will, for some weeks to come. I've been a sweetheart of hers +ever since she was in long clothes." Here I tried to laugh again, and, +to judge from the colonel, I verily believe I succeeded. The cloud +lightened on his face, as I made light of its cause, till at last he +laughed too. If I thought it all nonsense, why should he think it +earnest? So I turned the conversation to the club, about which I was +more concerned than about the love-making at present, seeing the +latter had positively no existence as yet. + +"Adela seemed quite to enjoy the reading last night," I said. + +"I thought she looked very grave," he answered. + +The good man had been watching her face all the time, I saw, and +evidently paying no heed to the story. I doubted if he was the better +judge for this--observing only _ab extra_, and without being in +sympathy with her feelings as moved by the tale. + +"Now that is just what I should have wished to see," I answered. +"We don't want her merry all at once. What we want is, that she +should take an interest in something. A grave face is a sign of +interest. It is all the world better than a listless face." + +"But what good can stories do in sickness?" + +"That depends on the origin of the sickness. My conviction is, that, +near or far off, in ourselves, or in our ancestors--say Adam and Eve, +for comprehension's sake--all our ailments have a moral cause. I think +that if we were all good, disease would, in the course of generations, +disappear utterly from the face of the earth." + +"That's just like one of your notions, old friend! Rather peculiar. +Mystical, is it not?" + +"But I meant to go on to say that, in Adela's case, I believe, from +conversation I have had with her, that the operation of mind on body +is far more immediate than that I have hinted at." + +"You cannot mean to imply," said my friend, in some alarm, that Adela +has anything upon her conscience?" + +"Certainly not. But there may be moral diseases that do not in the +least imply personal wrong or fault. They may themselves be +transmitted, for instance. Or even if such sprung wholly from present +physical causes, any help given to the mind would react on those +causes. Still more would the physical ill be influenced through the +mental, if the mind be the source of both. + +"Now from whatever cause, Adela is in a kind of moral atrophy, for she +cannot digest the food provided for her, so as to get any good of +it. Suppose a patient in a corresponding physical condition, should +show a relish for anything proposed to him, would you not take it for +a sign that that was just the thing to do him good? And we may accept +the interest Adela shows in any kind of mental pabulum provided for +her, as an analogous sign. It corresponds to relish, and is a ground +for expecting some benefit to follow--in a word, some nourishment of +the spiritual life. Relish may be called the digestion of the palate; +interest, the digestion of the inner ears; both significant of further +digestion to follow. The food thus relished may not be the best food; +and yet it may be the best for the patient, because she feels no +repugnance to it, and can digest and assimilate, as well as swallow +it. For my part, I believe in no cramming, bodily or mental. I think +nothing learned without interest, can be of the slightest after +benefit; and although the effort may comprise a moral good, it +involves considerable intellectual injury. All I have said applies +with still greater force to religious teaching, though that is not +definitely the question now." + +"Well, Smith, I can't talk philosophy like you; but what you say +sounds to me like sense. At all events, if Adela enjoys it, that is +enough for me. Will the young doctor tell stories too?" + +"I don't know. I fancy he _could_. But to-night we have his brother." + +"I shall make them welcome, anyhow." + +This was all I wanted of him; and now I was impatient for the evening, +and the clergyman's tale. The more I saw of him the better I liked +him, and felt the more interest in him. I went to church that same +day, and heard him read prayers, and liked him better still; so that I +was quite hungry for the story he was going to read to us. + +The evening came, and with it the company. Arrangements, similar to +those of the evening before, having been made, with some little +improvements, the colonel now occupying the middle place in the +half-circle, and the doctor seated, whether by chance or design, at +the corner farthest from the invalid's couch, the clergyman said, as +he rolled and unrolled the manuscript in his hand: + +"To explain how I came to write a story, the scene of which is in +Scotland, I may be allowed to inform the company that I spent a good +part of my boyhood in a town in Aberdeenshire, with my grandfather, +who was a thorough Scotchman. He had removed thither from the south, +where the name is indigenous; being indeed a descendant of that +Christy, whom his father, Johnie Armstrong, standing with the rope +about his neck, ready to be hanged--or murdered, as the ballad calls +it--apostrophizes in these words: + + 'And God be with thee, Christy, my son, + Where thou sits on thy nurse's knee! + But an' thou live this hundred year, + Thy father's better thou'lt never be.' + +But I beg your pardon, ladies and gentlemen all, for this has +positively nothing to do with the story. Only please to remember that +in those days it was quite respectable to be hanged." + +We all agreed to this with a profusion of corroboration, except the +colonel; who, I thought, winced a little. But presently our attention +was occupied with the story, thus announced: + +"_The Bell. A Sketch in Pen and Ink_." + +He read in a great, deep, musical voice, with a wealth of pathos in +it--always suppressed, yet almost too much for me in the more touching +portions of the story. + +"One interruption more," he said, before he began. "I fear you will +find it a sad story." + +And he looked at Adela. + +I believe that he had chosen the story on the homoeopathic principle. + +"I like sad stories," she answered; and he went on at once. + + "THE BELL. + + "A SKETCH IN PEN AND INK. + +"Elsie Scott had let her work fall on her knees, and her hands on her +work, and was looking out of the wide, low window of her room, which +was on one of the ground floors of the village street. Through a gap +in the household shrubbery of fuchsias and myrtles filling the window- +sill, one passing on the foot-pavement might get a momentary glimpse +of her pale face, lighted up with two blue eyes, over which some +inward trouble had spread a faint, gauze-like haziness. But almost +before her thoughts had had time to wander back to this trouble, a +shout of children's voices, at the other end of the street, reached +her ear. She listened a moment. A shadow of displeasure and pain +crossed her countenance; and rising hastily, she betook herself to an +inner apartment, and closed the door behind her. + +"Meantime the sounds drew nearer; and by and by, an old man, whose +strange appearance and dress showed that he had little capacity either +for good or evil, passed the window. His clothes were comfortable +enough in quality and condition, for they were the annual gift of a +benevolent lady in the neighbourhood; but, being made to accommodate +his taste, both known and traditional, they were somewhat peculiar in +cut and adornment. Both coat and trousers were of a dark grey cloth; +but the former, which, in its shape, partook of the military, had a +straight collar of yellow, and narrow cuffs of the same; while upon +both sleeves, about the place where a corporal wears his stripes, was +expressed, in the same yellow cloth, a somewhat singular device. It +was as close an imitation of a bell, with its tongue hanging out of +its mouth, as the tailor's skill could produce from a single piece of +cloth. The origin of the military cut of his coat was well known. His +preference for it arose in the time of the wars of the first Napoleon, +when the threatened invasion of the country caused the organization of +many volunteer regiments. The martial show and exercises captivated +the poor man's fancy; and from that time forward nothing pleased his +vanity, and consequently conciliated his good will more, than to style +him by his favourite title--the _Colonel_. But the badge on his arm +had a deeper origin, which will be partially manifest in the course of +the story--if story it can be called. It was, indeed, the baptism of +the fool, the outward and visible sign of his relation to the infinite +and unseen. His countenance, however, although the features were not +of any peculiarly low or animal type, showed no corresponding sign of +the consciousness of such a relation, being as vacant as human +countenance could well be. + +"The cause of Elsie's annoyance was that the fool was annoyed; for, he +was turned his rank into scorn, and assailed him with epithets hateful +to him. Although the most harmless of creatures when let alone, he was +dangerous when roused; and now he stooped repeatedly to pick up stones +and hurl them at his tormentors, who took care, while abusing him, to +keep at a considerable distance, lest he should get hold of them. +Amidst the sounds of derision that followed him, might be heard the +words frequently repeated--'_Come hame, come hame._' But in a few +minutes the noise ceased, either from the interference of some +friendly inhabitant, or that the boys grew weary, and departed in +search of other amusement. By and by, Elsie might be seen again at her +work in the window; but the cloud over her eyes was deeper, and her +whole face more sad. + +"Indeed, so much did the persecution of the poor man affect her, that +an onlooker would have been compelled to seek the cause in some yet +deeper sympathy than that commonly felt for the oppressed, even by +women. And such a sympathy existed, strange as it may seem, between +the beautiful girl (for many called her a _bonnie lassie_) and this +'tatter of humanity.' Nothing would have been farther from the +thoughts of those that knew them, than the supposition of any +correspondence or connection between them; yet this sympathy sprung in +part from a real similarity in their history and present condition. + +"All the facts that were known about _Feel Jock's_ origin were these: +that seventy years ago, a man who had gone with his horse and cart +some miles from the village, to fetch home a load of peat from a +desolate _moss_, had heard, while toiling along as rough a road on as +lonely a hill-side as any in Scotland, the cry of a child; and, +searching about, had found the infant, hardly wrapt in rags, and +untended, as if the earth herself had just given him birth,--that +desert moor, wide and dismal, broken and watery, the only bosom for +him to lie upon, and the cold, clear night-heaven his only covering. +The man had brought him home, and the parish had taken parish-care of +him. He had grown up, and proved what he now was--almost an idiot. +Many of the townspeople were kind to him, and employed him in fetching +water for them from the river and wells in the neighbourhood, paying +him for his trouble in victuals, or whisky, of which he was very +fond. He seldom spoke; and the sentences he could utter were few; yet +the tone, and even the words of his limited vocabulary, were +sufficient to express gratitude and some measure of love towards those +who were kind to him, and hatred of those who teased and insulted him. +He lived a life without aim, and apparently to no purpose; in this +resembling most of his more gifted fellow-men, who, with all the tools +and materials needful for the building of a noble mansion, are yet +content with a clay hut. + +"Elsie, on the contrary, had been born in a comfortable farmhouse, +amidst homeliness and abundance. But at a very early age, she had lost +both father and mother; not so early, however, but that she had faint +memories of warm soft times on her mother's bosom, and of refuge in +her mother's arms from the attacks of geese, and the pursuit of pigs. +Therefore, in after-times, when she looked forward to heaven, it was +as much a reverting to the old heavenly times of childhood and +mother's love, as an anticipation of something yet to be revealed. +Indeed, without some such memory, how should we ever picture to +ourselves a perfect rest? But sometimes it would seem as if the more a +heart was made capable of loving, the less it had to love; and poor +Elsie, in passing from a mother's to a brother's guardianship, felt a +change of spiritual temperature, too keen. He was not a bad man, or +incapable of benevolence when touched by the sight of want in anything +of which he would himself have felt the privation; but he was so +coarsely made, that only the purest animal necessities affected him; +and a hard word, or unfeeling speech, could never have reached the +quick of his nature through the hide that enclosed it. Elsie, on the +contrary, was excessively and painfully sensitive, as if her nature +constantly protended an invisible multitude of half-spiritual, half- +nervous antennae, which shrunk and trembled in every current of air at +all below their own temperature. The effect of this upon her behaviour +was such, that she was called odd; and the poor girl felt that she was +not like other people, yet could not help it. Her brother, too, +laughed at her without the slightest idea of the pain he occasioned, +or the remotest feeling of curiosity as to what the inward and +consistent causes of the outward abnormal condition might be. +Tenderness was the divine comforting she needed; and it was altogether +absent from her brother's character and behaviour. + +"Her neighbours looked on her with some interest, but they rather +shunned than courted her acquaintance; especially after the return of +certain nervous attacks, to which she had been subject in childhood, +and which were again brought on by the events I must relate. It is +curious how certain diseases repel, by a kind of awe, the sympathies +of the neighbours: as if, by the fact of being subject to them, the +patient were removed into another realm of existence, from which, like +the dead with the living, she can hold communion with those around her +only partially, and with a mixture of dread pervading the intercourse. +Thus some of the deepest, purest wells of spiritual life, are, like +those in old castles, choked up by the decay of the outer walls. But +what tended more than anything, perhaps, to keep up the painful unrest +of her soul (for the beauty of her character was evident in the fact, +that the irritation seldom reached her _mind_), was a circumstance at +which, in its present connection, some of my readers will smile, and +others feel a shudder corresponding in kind to that of Elsie. + +"Her brother was very fond of a rather small, but ferocious-looking +bull-dog, which followed close at his heels, wherever he went, with +hanging head and slouching gait, never leaping or racing about like +other dogs. When in the house, he always lay under his master's +chair. He seemed to dislike Elsie, and she felt an unspeakable +repugnance to him. Though she never mentioned her aversion, her +brother easily saw it by the way in which she avoided the animal; and +attributing it entirely to fear--which indeed had a great share in the +matter--he would cruelly aggravate it, by telling her stories of the +fierce hardihood and relentless persistency of this kind of animal. He +dared not yet further increase her terror by offering to set the +creature upon her, because it was doubtful whether he might be able to +restrain him; but the mental suffering which he occasioned by this +heartless conduct, and for which he had no sympathy, was as severe as +many bodily sufferings to which he would have been sorry to subject +her. Whenever the poor girl happened inadvertently to pass near the +dog, which was seldom, a low growl made her aware of his proximity, +and drove her to a quick retreat. He was, in fact, the animal +impersonation of the animal opposition which she had continually to +endure. Like chooses like; and the bull-dog _in_ her brother made +choice of the bull-dog _out of_ him for his companion. So her day was +one of shrinking fear and multiform discomfort. + +"But a nature capable of so much distress, must of necessity be +_capable_ of a corresponding amount of pleasure; and in her case this +was manifest in the fact, that sleep and the quiet of her own room +restored her wonderfully. If she was only let alone, a calm mood, +filled with images of pleasure, soon took possession of her mind. + +"Her acquaintance with the fool had commenced some ten years previous +to the time I write of, when she was quite a little girl, and had come +from the country with her brother, who, having taken a small farm +close to the town, preferred residing in the town to occupying the +farm-house, which was not comfortable. She looked at first with some +terror on his uncouth appearance, and with much wonderment on his +strange dress. This wonder was heightened by a conversation she +overheard one day in the street, between the fool and a little pale- +faced boy, who, approaching him respectfully, said, 'Weel, cornel!' +'Weel, laddie!' was the reply. 'Fat dis the wow say, cornel?' 'Come +hame, come hame!' answered the _colonel_, with both accent and +quantity heaped on the word _hame_. She heard no more, and knew not +what the little she had heard, meant. What the _wow_ could be, she had +no idea; only, as the years passed on, the strange word became in her +mind indescribably associated with the strange shape in yellow cloth +on his sleeves. Had she been a native of the town, she could not have +failed to know its import, so familiar was every one with it, although +the word did not belong to the local vocabulary; but, as it was, years +passed away before she discovered its meaning. And when, again and +again, the fool, attempting to convey his gratitude for some kindness +she had shown him, mumbled over the words--_'The wow o' Rivven--the +wow o' Rivven,'_ the wonder would return as to what could be the idea +associated with them in his mind, but she made no advance towards +their explanation. + +"That, however, which most attracted her to the old man, was his +persecution by the children. They were to him what the bull-dog was to +her--the constant source of irritation and annoyance. They could +hardly hurt him, nor did he appear to dread other injury from them +than insult, to which, fool though he was, he was keenly alive. Human +gad-flies that they were! they sometimes stung him beyond endurance, +and he would curse them in the impotence of his anger. Once or twice +Elsie had been so far carried beyond her constitutional timidity, by +sympathy for the distress of her friend, that she had gone out and +talked to the boys,--even scolded them, so that they slunk away +ashamed, and began to stand as much in dread of her as of the clutches +of their prey. So she, gentle and timid to excess, acquired among them +the reputation of a termagant. Popular opinion among children, as +among men, is often just, but as often very unjust; for the same +manifestations may proceed from opposite principles; and, therefore, +as indices to character, any mislead as often as enlighten. + +"Next door to the house in which Elsie resided, dwelt a tradesman and +his wife, who kept an indefinite sort of shop, in which various kinds +of goods were exposed to sale. Their youngest son was about the same +age as Elsie; and while they were rather more than children, and less +than young people, he spent many of his evenings with her, somewhat to +the loss of position in his classes at the parish school. They were, +indeed, much attached to each other; and, peculiarly constituted as +Elsie was, one may imagine what kind of heavenly messenger a companion +stronger than herself must have been to her. In fact, if she could +have framed the undefinable need of her child-like nature into an +articulate prayer, it would have been--'Give me some one to love me +stronger than I.' Any love was helpful, yes, in its degree, saving to +her poor troubled soul; but the hope, as they grew older together, +that the powerful, yet tender-hearted youth, really loved her, and +would one day make her his wife, was like the opening of heavenly eyes +of life and love in the hitherto blank and death-like face of her +existence. But nothing had been said of love, although they met and +parted like lovers. + +"Doubtless if the circles of their thought and feeling had continued +as now to intersect each other, there would have been no interruption +to their affection; but the time at length arrived when the old couple +seeing the rest of their family comfortably settled in life, resolved +to make a gentleman of the youngest; and so sent him from school to +college. The facilities existing in Scotland for providing a +professional training, enabled them to educate him as a surgeon. He +parted from Elsie with some regret; but, far less dependent on her +than she was on him, and full of the prospects of the future, he felt +none of that sinking at the heart which seemed to lay her whole nature +open to a fresh inroad of all the terrors and sorrows of her peculiar +existence. No correspondence took place between them. New pursuits and +relations, and the development of his tastes and judgments, entirely +altered the position of poor Elsie in his memory. Having been, during +their intercourse, far less of a man than she of a woman, he had no +definite idea of the place he had occupied in her regard; and in his +mind she receded into the background of the past, without his having +any idea that she would suffer thereby, or that he was unjust towards +her; while, in her thoughts, his image stood in the highest and +clearest relief. It was the centre-point from which and towards which +all lines radiated and converged; and although she could not but be +doubtful about the future, yet there was much hope mingled with her +doubts. + +"But when, at the close of two years, he visited his native village, +and she saw before her, instead of the homely youth who had left her +that winter evening, one who, to her inexperienced eyes, appeared a +finished gentleman, her heart sank within her, as if she had found +Nature herself false in her ripening processes, destroying the +beautiful promise of a former year by changing instead of developing +her creations. He spoke kindly to her, but not cordially. To her ear +the voice seemed to come from a great distance out of the past; and +while she looked upon him, that optical change passed over her vision, +which all have experienced after gazing abstractedly on any object for +a time: his form grew very small, and receded to an immeasurable +distance; till, her imagination mingling with the twilight haze of her +senses, she seemed to see him standing far off on a hill, with the +bright horizon of sunset for a back-ground to his clearly defined +figure. + +"She knew no more till she found herself in bed in the dark; and the +first message that reached her from the outer world, was the infernal +growl of the bull-dog from the room below. Next day she saw her lover +walking with two ladies, who would have thought it some degree of +condescension to speak to her; and he passed the house without once +looking towards it. + +"One who is sufficiently possessed by the demon of nervousness to be +glad of the magnetic influences of a friend's company in a public +promenade, or of a horse beneath him in passing through a churchyard, +will have some faint idea of how utterly exposed and defenceless poor +Elsie now felt on the crowded thoroughfare of life. And the +insensibility which had overtaken her, was not the ordinary swoon with +which Nature relieves the over-strained nerves, but the return of the +epileptic fits of her early childhood; and if the condition of the +poor girl had been pitiable before, it was tenfold more so now. Yet +she did not complain, but bore all in silence, though it was evident +that her health was giving way. But now, help came to her from a +strange quarter; though many might not be willing to accord the name +of help to that which rather hastened than retarded the progress of +her decline. + +"She had gone to spend a few of the summer days with a relative in the +country, some miles from her home, if home it could be called. One +evening, towards sunset, she went out for a solitary walk. Passing +from the little garden gate, she went along a bare country road for +some distance, and then, turning aside by a footpath through a thicket +of low trees, she came out in a lonely little churchyard on the +hill-side. Hardly knowing whether or not she had intended to go there, +she seated herself on a mound covered with long grass, one of +many. Before her stood the ruins of an old church which was taking +centuries to crumble. Little remained but the gable-wall, immensely +thick, and covered with ancient ivy. The rays of the setting sun fell +on a mound at its foot, not green like the rest, but of a rich, +red-brown in the rosy sunset, and evidently but newly heaped up. Her +eyes, too, rested upon it. Slowly the sun sank below the near horizon. + +"As the last brilliant point disappeared, the ivy darkened, and a wind +arose and shook all its leaves, making them look cold and troubled; +and to Elsie's ear came a low faint sound, as from a far-off bell. But +close beside her--and she started and shivered at the sound--rose a +deep, monotonous, almost sepulchral voice: '_Come hame, come hame! The +wow, the wow!_' + +"At once she understood the whole. She sat in the churchyard of the +ancient parish church of Ruthven; and when she lifted up her eyes, +there she saw, in the half-ruined belfry, the old bell, all but hidden +with ivy, which the passing wind had roused to utter one sleepy tone; +and there, beside her, stood the fool with the bell on his arm; and to +him and to her the _wow o' Rivven_ said, '_Come hame, come hame!_' Ah, +what did she want in the whole universe of God but a home? And though +the ground beneath was hard, and the sky overhead far and boundless, +and the hill-side lonely and companionless, yet somewhere within the +visible, and beyond these the outer surfaces of creation, there might +be a home for her; as round the wintry house the snows lie heaped up +cold and white and dreary all the long _forenight_, while within, +beyond the closed shutters, and giving no glimmer through the thick +stone walls, the fires are blazing joyously, and the voices and +laughter of young unfrozen children are heard, and nothing belongs to +winter but the grey hairs on the heads of the parents, within whose +warm hearts child-like voices are heard, and child-like thoughts move +to and fro. The kernel of winter itself is spring, or a sleeping +summer. + +"It was no wonder that the fool, cast out of the earth on a far more +desolate spot than this, should seek to return within her bosom at +this place of open doors, and should call it _home_. For surely the +surface of the earth had no home for him. The mound at the foot of the +gable contained the body of one who had shown him kindness. He had +followed the funeral that afternoon from the town, and had remained +behind with the bell. Indeed, it was his custom, though Elsie had not +known it, to follow every funeral going to this, his favourite +churchyard of Ruthven; and, possibly in imitation of its booming, for +it was still tolled at the funerals, he had given the old bell the +name of the _wow_, and had translated its monotonous clangour into the +articulate sounds--_come home, come home_. What precise meaning he +attached to the words, it is impossible to say; but it was evident +that the place possessed a strange attraction for him, drawing him +towards it by the cords of some spiritual magnetism. It is possible +that in the mind of the idiot there may have been some feeling about +this churchyard and bell, which, in the mind of another, would have +become a grand poetic thought; a feeling as if the ghostly old bell +hung at the church-door of the invisible world, and ever and anon rung +out joyous notes (though they sounded sad in the ears of the living), +calling to the children of the unseen to _come home, come home_.--She +sat for some time in silence; for the bell did not ring again, and the +fool spoke no more; till the dews began to fall, when she rose and +went home, followed by her companion, who passed the night in the +barn. + +"From that hour Elsie was furnished with a visual image of the rest +she sought; an image which, mingling with deeper and holier thoughts, +became, like the bow set in the cloud, the earthly pledge and sign of +the fulfilment of heavenly hopes. Often when the wintry fog of cold +discomfort and homelessness filled her soul, all at once the picture +of the little churchyard--with the old gable and belfry, and the +slanting sunlight steeping down to the very roots the long grass on +the graves--arose in the darkened chamber (_camera obscura_) of her +soul; and again she heard the faint AEolian sound of the bell, and the +voice of the prophet-fool who interpreted the oracle; and the inward +weariness was soothed by the promise of a long sleep. Who can tell how +many have been counted fools simply because they were prophets; or how +much of the madness in the world may be the utterance of thoughts true +and just, but belonging to a region differing from ours in its nature +and scenery! + +"But to Elsie looking out of her window came the mocking tones of the +idle boys who had chosen as the vehicle of their scorn the very words +which showed the relation of the fool to the eternal, and revealed in +him an element higher far than any yet developed in them. They turned +his glory into shame, like the enemies of David when they mocked the +would-be king. And the best in a man is often that which is most +condemned by those who have not attained to his goodness. The words, +however, even as repeated by the boys, had not solely awakened +indignation at the persecution of the old man: they had likewise +comforted her with the thought of the refuge that awaited both him and +her. + +"But the same evening a worse trial befell her. Again she sat near the +window, oppressed by the consciousness that her brother had come +in. He had gone up-stairs, and his dog had remained at the door, +exchanging surly compliments with some of his own kind; when the fool +came strolling past, and, I do not know from what cause, the dog flew +at him. Elsie heard his cry and looked up. Her fear of the brute +vanished in a moment before her sympathy for her friend. She darted +from the house, and rushed towards the dog to drag him off the +defenceless idiot, calling him by his name in a tone of anger and +dislike. He left the fool, and, springing at Elsie, seized her by the +arm above the elbow with such a gripe that, in the midst of her agony, +she fancied she heard the bone crack. But she uttered no cry, for the +most apprehensive are sometimes the most courageous. Just then, +however, her former lover was coming along the street, and, catching a +glimpse of what had happened, was on the spot in an instant, took the +dog by the throat with a gripe not inferior to his own, and having +thus compelled him to give up his hold, dashed him on the ground with +a force that almost stunned him, and then with a superadded kick sent +him away limping and howling; whereupon the fool, attacking him +furiously with a stick, would certainly have finished him, had not his +master descried his plight and come to his rescue. + +"Meantime the young surgeon had carried Elsie into the house; for, as +soon as she was rescued from the dog, she had fallen down in one of +her fits, which were becoming more and more frequent of themselves, +and little needed such a shock as this to increase their violence. He +was dressing her arm when she began to recover; and when she opened +her eyes, in a state of half-consciousness, the first object she +beheld, was his face bending over her. Re-calling nothing of what had +occurred, it seemed to her, in the dreamy condition in which the fit +had left her, the same face, unchanged, which had once shone in upon +her tardy spring-time, and promised to ripen it into summer. She +forgot that it had departed and left her in the wintry cold. And so +she uttered wild words of love and trust; and the youth, while stung +with remorse at his own neglect, was astonished to perceive the poetic +forms of beauty in which the soul of the uneducated maiden burst into +flower. But as her senses recovered themselves, the face gradually +changed to her, as if the slow alteration of two years had been +phantasmagorically compressed into a few moments; and the glow +departed from the maiden's thoughts and words, and her soul found +itself at the narrow window of the present, from which she could +behold but a dreary country.--From the street came the iambic cry of +the fool, 'Come hame, come hame." + +"Tycho Brahe, I think, is said to have kept a fool, who frequently sat +at his feet in his study, and to whose mutterings he used to listen in +the pauses of his own thought. The shining soul of the astronomer drew +forth the rainbow of harmony from the misty spray of words ascending +ever from the dark gulf into which the thoughts of the idiot were ever +falling. He beheld curious concurrences of words therein, and could +read strange meanings from them--sometimes even received wondrous +hints for the direction of celestial inquiry, from what, to any other, +and it may be to the fool himself, was but a ceaseless and aimless +babble. Such power lieth in words. It is not then to be wondered at, +that the sounds I have mentioned should fall on the ears of Elsie, at +such a moment, as a message from God himself. This then--all this +dreariness--was but a passing show like the rest, and there lay +somewhere for her a reality--a home. The tears burst up from her +oppressed heart. She received the message, and prepared to go home. +From that time her strength gradually sank, but her spirits as +steadily rose. + +"The strength of the fool, too, began to fail, for he was old. He bore +all the signs of age, even to the grey hairs, which betokened no +wisdom. But one cannot say what wisdom might be in him, or how far he +had not fought his own battle, and been victorious. Whether any notion +of a continuance of life and thought dwelt in his brain, it is +impossible to tell; but he seemed to have the idea that this was not +his home; and those who saw him gradually approaching his end, might +well anticipate for him a higher life in the world to come. He had +passed through this world without ever awakening to such a +consciousness of being, as is common to mankind. He had spent his +years like a weary dream through a long night--a strange, dismal, +unkindly dream; and now the morning was at hand. Often in his dream +had he listened with sleepy senses to the ringing of the bell, but +that bell would awake him at last. He was like a seed buried too deep +in the soil, to which, therefore, has never forced its way upwards to +the open air, never experienced the resurrection of the dead. But +seeds will grow ages after they have fallen into the earth; and, +indeed, with many kinds, and within some limits, the older the seed +before it germinates, the more plentiful is the fruit. And may it not +be believed of many human beings, that, the great Husbandman having +sown them like seeds in the soil of human affairs, there they lie +buried a life long; and only after the upturning of the soil by death, +reach a position in which the awakening of their aspiration and the +consequent growth become possible. Surely he has made nothing in vain. + +"A violent cold and cough brought him at last near to his end, and, +hearing that he was ill, Elsie ventured one bright spring day to go to +see him. When she entered the miserable room where he lay, he held out +his hand to her with something like a smile, and muttered feebly and +painfully, 'I'm gaein' to the wow, nae to come back again.' Elsie +could not restrain her tears; while the old man, looking fixedly at +her, though with meaningless eyes, muttered, for the last time, '_Come +hame! come hame!_' and sank into a lethargy, from which nothing could +rouse him, till, next morning, he was waked by friendly death from the +long sleep of this world's night. They bore him to his favourite +church-yard, and buried him within the site of the old church, below +his loved bell, which had ever been to him as the cuckoo-note of a +coming spring. Thus he at length obeyed its summons, and went home. + +"Elsie lingered till the first summer days lay warm on the land. +Several kind hearts in the village, hearing of her illness, visited +her and ministered to her. Wondering at her sweetness and patience, +they regretted they had not known her before. How much consolation +might not their kindness have imparted, and how much might not their +sympathy have strengthened her on her painful road! But they could not +long have delayed her going home. Nor, mentally constituted as she +was, would this have been at all to be desired. Indeed it was chiefly +the expectation of departure that quieted and soothed her tremulous +nature. It is true that a deep spring of hope and faith kept singing +on in her heart, but this alone, without the anticipation of speedy +release, could only have kept her mind at peace. It could not have +reached, at least for a long time, the border land between body and +mind, in which her disease lay. + +"One still night of summer, the nurse who watched by her bedside heard +her murmur through her sleep, 'I hear it: _come hame--come hame_. I'm +comin', I'm comin'--I'm gaein' hame to the wow, nae to come back.' She +awoke at the sound of her own words, and begged the nurse to convey to +her brother her last request, that she might be buried by the side of +the fool, within the old church of Ruthven. Then she turned her face +to the wall, and in the morning was found quiet and cold. She must +have died within a few minutes after her last words. She was buried +according to her request; and thus she, too, went home. + +"Side by side rest the aged fool and the young maiden; for the bell +called them, and they obeyed; and surely they found the fire burning +bright, and heard friendly voices, and felt sweet lips on theirs, in +the home to which they went. Surely both intellect and love were +waiting them there. + +"Still the old bell hangs in the old gable; and whenever another is +borne to the old churchyard, it keeps calling to those who are left +behind, with the same sad, but friendly and unchanging voice--_'Come +hame! come hame! come hame!'_" + +For a full minute, there was silence in the little company. I myself +dared not look up, but the movement of indistinct and cloudy white +over my undirected eyes, let me know that two or three, amongst them +Adela, were lifting their handkerchiefs to their faces. At length a +voice broke the silence. + +"How much of your affecting tale is true, Mr. Armstrong?" + +The voice belonged to Mrs. Cathcart. + +"I object to the question," said I. "I don't want to know. Suppose, +Mrs. Cathcart, I were to put this story-club, members, stories, and +all, into a book, how would any one like to have her real existence +questioned? It would at least imply that I had made a very bad +portrait of that one." + +The lady cast rather a frightened look at me, which I confess I was +not sorry to see. But the curate interposed. + +"What frightful sophistry, Mr. Smith!" Then turning to Mrs. Cathcart, +he continued: + +"I have not the slightest objection to answer your question, Mrs. +Cathcart; and if our friend Mr. Smith does not want to hear the +answer, I will wait till he stops his ears." + +He glanced to me, his black eyes twinkling with fun. I saw that it was +all he could do to keep from winking; but he did. + +"Oh no," I answered; "I will share what is going." + +"Well, then, the fool is a real character, in every point. But I +learned after I had written the sketch, that I had made one mistake. +He was in reality about seventeen, when he was found on the hill. The +bell is a real character too. Elsie is a creature of my own. So of +course are the brother and the dog." + +"I don't know whether to be glad or sorry that there was no Elsie," +said his wife. "But did you know the fool yourself?" + +"Perfectly well, and had a great respect for him. When a little boy, I +was quite proud of the way he behaved to me. He occasionally visited +the general persecution of the boys, upon any boy he chanced to meet +on the road; but as often as I met him, he walked quietly past me, +muttering '_Auntie's folk_!' or returning my greeting of _'A fine day, +Colonel!'_ with a grunted _'Ay!'_" + +"What did he mean by 'Auntie's folk?'" asked Mrs. Armstrong. + +"My grandmother was kind to him, and he always called her _Auntie_. I +cannot tell how the fancy originated; but certainly he knew all her +descendants somehow--a degree of intelligence not to have been +expected of him--and invariably murmured 'Auntie's folk,' as often as +he passed any of them on the road, as if to remind himself that these +were friends, or relations. Possibly he had lived with an aunt before +he was exposed on the moor." + +"Is _wow_ a word at all?" I asked. + +"If you look into Jamieson's Dictionary," said Armstrong, "as I have +done for the express purpose, you will find that the word is used +differently in different quarters of the country--chiefly, however, as +a verb. It means _to bark, to howl;_ likewise _to wave or beckon;_ +also _to woo, or make love to_. Any of these might be given as an +explanation of his word. But I do not think it had anything to do with +these meanings; nor was the word used, in that district, in either of +the last two senses, in my time at least. It was used, however, in the +meaning of _alas_--a form of _woe_ in fact; as _wow's me!_ But I +believe it was, in the fool's use, an attempt to reproduce the sound +which the bell made. If you repeat the word several times, resting on +the final _w_, and pausing between each repetition--_wow! wow! +wow!_--you will find that the sound is not at all unlike the tolling +of a funeral bell; and therefore the word is most probably an +onomatopoetic invention of the fool's own." + +Adela offered no remark upon the story, and I knew from her +countenance that she was too much affected to be inclined to speak. +Her eyes had that fixed, forward look, which, combined with haziness, +indicates deep emotion, while the curves of her mouth were nearly +straightened out by the compression of her lips. I had thought, while +the reader went on, that she could hardly fail to find in the story of +Elsie, some correspondence to her own condition and necessities: I now +believe that she had found that correspondence. More talk was not +desirable; and I was glad when, after a few attempts at ordinary +conversation, Mr. and Mrs. Bloomfield rose to take their leave, which +was accepted by the whole company as a signal for departure. + +"But stay," I interposed; "who is to read or tell next?" + +"Why, I will be revenged on Harry," said the clergyman. + +"That you can't," said the doctor; "for I have nothing to give you." + +"You don't mean to say you are going to jib?" + +"No. I don't say I won't read. In fact I have a story in my head, and +a bit of it on paper; but I positively can't read next time." + +"Will you oblige us with a story, Colonel?" said I. + +"My dear fellow, you know I never put pen to paper in my life, except +when I could not help it. I may tell you a story before it is all +over, but write one I cannot." + +"A tale that is told is the best tale of all," I said. "Shall we book +you for next time?" + +"No, no! not next time; positively not. My story must come of itself, +else I cannot tell it at all." + +"Well, there's nobody left but you, Mr. Bloomfield. So you can't get +rid of it." + +"I don't think I ever wrote what was worth calling a story; but I +don't mind reading you something of the sort which I have at home, on +one condition." + +"What is that?" + +"That nobody ask any questions about it." + +"Oh! certainly." + +"But my only reason is, that somehow I feel it would all come to +pieces if you did. It is nothing, as a story; but there are feelings +expressed in it, which were very strong in me when I wrote it, and +which I do not feel willing to talk about, although I have no +objection to having them thought about." + +"Well, that is settled. When shall we meet again?" + +"To-morrow, or the day after," said the colonel; "which you please." + +"Oh! the day after, if I may have a word in it," said the doctor. "I +shall be very busy to-morrow--and we mustn't crowd remedies either, +you know." + +The close of the sentence was addressed to me only. The rest of the +company had taken leave, and were already at the door, when he made +the last remark. He now came up to his patient, felt her pulse, and +put the question, + +"How have you slept the last two nights?" + +"Better, thank you." + +"And do you feel refreshed when you wake?" + +"More so than for some time." + +"I won't give you anything to-night.--Good night." + +"Good night. Thank you." + +This was all that passed between them. Jealousy, with the six eyes of +Colonel, Mrs., and Percy Cathcart, was intent upon the pair during the +brief conversation. And I thought Adela perceived the fact. + + + +Chapter VII. + +The schoolmaster's story. + + +I was walking up the street the next day, when, finding I was passing +the Grammar-school, and knowing there was nothing going on there now, +I thought I should not be intruding if I dropped in upon the +schoolmaster and his wife, and had a little chat with them. I already +counted them friends; for I felt that however different our training +and lives might have been, we all meant the same thing now, and that +is the true bond of fellowship. I found Mr. Bloomfield reading to his +wife--a novel, too. Evidently he intended to make the most of this +individual holiday, by making it as unlike a work-day as possible. + +"I see you are enjoying yourselves," I said. "It's a shame to break in +upon you." + +"We are delighted to see you. Your interruption will only postpone a +good thing to a better," said the kind-hearted schoolmaster, laying +down his book. "Will you take a pipe?" + +"With pleasure--but not here, surely?" + +"Oh! we smoke everywhere in holiday-time." + +"You enjoy your holiday, I can see." + +"I should think so. I don't believe one of the boys delights in a +holiday quite as heartily as I do. You must not imagine I don't enjoy +my work, though." + +"Not in the least. Earnest work breeds earnest play. But you must find +the labour wearisome at times." + +"I confess I have felt it such. I have said to myself sometimes: 'Am I +to go on for ever teaching boys Latin grammar, till I wish there had +never been a Latin nation to leave such an incubus upon the bosom of +after ages?' Then I would remind myself, that, under cover of grammar +and geography, and all the other _farce_-meat (as the word ought to be +written and pronounced), I put something better into my pupils; +something that I loved myself, and cared to give to them. But I often +ask myself to what it all goes.--I learn to love my boys. I kill in +them all the bad I can. I nourish in them all the good I can. I send +them across the borders of manhood--and they leave me, and most likely +I hear nothing more of them. And I say to myself: 'My life is like a +wind. It blows and will cease.' But something says in reply: 'Wouldst +thou not be one of God's winds, content to blow, and scatter the rain +and dew, and shake the plants into fresh life, and then pass away and +know nothing of what thou hast done?' And I answer: 'Yes, Lord."' + +"You are not a wind; you are a poet, Mr. Bloomfield," I said, with +emotion. + +"One of the speechless ones, then," he returned, with a smile that +showed plainly enough that the speechless longed for utterance. It was +such a smile as would, upon the face of a child, wile anything out of +you. Surely God, who needs no wiles to make him give what one is ready +to receive, will let him sing some day, to his heart's content! And +me, too, O Lord, I pray. + +"What a pleasure it must be to you now, to have such a man as +Mr. Armstrong for your curate! He will be a brother to you," I said, +as soon as I could speak. + +"Mr, Smith, I cannot tell you what he is to me already. He is doing +what I would fain have done--what was denied to me." + +"How do you mean?" + +"I studied for the church. But I aimed too high. My heart burned +within me, but my powers were small. I wanted to relight the ancient +lamp, but my rush-light would not kindle it. My friends saw no light; +they only smelt burning: I was heterodox. I hesitated, I feared, I +yielded, I withdrew. To this day, I do not know whether I did right or +wrong. But I am honoured yet in being allowed to teach. And if at the +last I have the faintest 'Well done' from the Master, I shall be +satisfied." + +Mrs. Bloomfield was gently weeping; partly from regret, as I judged, +that her husband was not in the position she would have given him, +partly from delight in his manly goodness. A watery film stood in the +schoolmaster's eyes, and his wise gentle face was irradiated with the +light of a far-off morning, whose dawn was visible to his hope. + +"The world is the better for you at least, Mr. Bloomfield," I said. "I +wish some more of us were as sure as you of helping on the daily +Creation, which is quite as certain a fact as that of old; and is even +more important to us, than that recorded in the book of Genesis. It is +not great battles alone that build up the world's history, nor great +poems alone that make the generations grow. There is a still small +rain from heaven that has more to do with the blessedness of nature +and of human nature, than the mightiest earthquake, or the loveliest +rainbow." + +"I do comfort myself," he answered, "at this Christmas-time, and for +the whole year, with the thought that, after all, the world was saved +by a child.--But that brings me to think of a little trouble I am in, +Mr. Smith. The only paper I have, at all fit for reading to-morrow +night, is much too short to occupy the evening. What is to be done?" + +"Oh! we can talk about it." + +"That is just what I could not bear. It is rather an odd composition, +I fear; but whether it be worth anything or not, I cannot help having +a great affection for it." + +"Then it is true, I presume?" + +"There again! That is just one of the questions I don't want to +answer. I quite sympathized with you last night in not wishing to know +how much of Mr. Armstrong's story was true. Even if wholly fictitious, +a good story is always true. But there are things which one would have +no right to invent, which would be worth nothing if they were +invented, from the very circumstance of their origin in the brain, and +not in the world. The very beauty of them demands that they should be +fact; or, if not, that they should not be told--sent out poor +unclothed spirits into the world before a body of fact has been +prepared for them. But I have always found it impossible to define the +kinds of stories I mean. The nearest I can come to it is this: If the +force of the lesson depends on the story being a fact, it must not be +told except it is a fact. Then again, there are true things that one +would be shy of telling, if he thought they would be attributed to +himself. Now this story of mine is made up of fiction and fact both. +And I fear that if I were called upon to take it to pieces, it would +lose the force of any little truth it possesses, besides exposing me +to what I would gladly avoid. Indeed I fear I ought not to read it at +all." + +"You are amongst friends, you know, Mr. Bloomfield." + +"Entirely?" he asked, with a half comic expression. + +"Well," I answered, laughing, "any exception that may exist, is hardly +worth considering, and indeed ought to be thankfully accepted, as +tending to wholesomeness. Neither vinegar nor mustard would be +desirable as food, you know; yet--" + +"I understand you. I am ashamed of having made such a fuss about +nothing. I will do my best, I assure you." + +I fear that the fastidiousness of the good man will not be excuse +enough for the introduction of such a long preamble to a story for +which only a few will in the least care. But the said preamble +happening to touch on some interesting subjects, I thought it well to +record it. As to the story itself, there are some remarks of Balzac in +the introduction to one of his, that would well apply to the +schoolmaster's. They are to the effect that some stories which have +nothing in them as stories, yet fill one with an interest both gentle +and profound, if they are read in the mood that is exactly fitted for +their just reception. + +Mr. Bloomfield conducted me to the door. + +"I hope you will not think me a grumbler," he said; "I should not like +your disapprobation, Mr. Smith." + +"You do me great honour," I said, honestly. "Believe me there is no +danger of that. I understand and sympathize with you entirely." + +"My love of approbation is large," he said, tapping the bump referred +to with his forefinger. "Excuse it and me too." + +"There is no need, my dear friend," I said, "if I may call you such." + +His answer was a warm squeeze of the hand, with which we parted. + +As I returned home, I met Henry Armstrong, mounted on a bay mare of a +far different sort from what a sportsman would consider a doctor +justified in using for his purposes. In fact she was a thorough +hunter; no beauty certainly, with her ewe-neck, drooping tail, and +white face and stocking; but she had an eye at once gentle and wild as +that of a savage angel, if my reader will condescend to dream for a +moment of such an anomaly; while her hind quarters were power itself, +and her foreleg was flung right out from the shoulder with a gesture +not of work but of delight; the step itself being entirely one of +work,--long in proportion to its height. The lines of her fore and +hind-quarters converged so much, that there was hardly more than room +for the saddle between them. I had never seen such action. Altogether, +although not much of a hunting man, the motion of the creature gave me +such a sense of power and joy, that I longed to be scouring the fields +with her under me. It was a sunshiny day, with a keen cold air, and a +thin sprinkling of snow; and Harry looked so radiant with health, that +one could easily believe he had health to convey, if not to bestow. He +stopped and inquired after his patient. + +"Could you not get her to go out with you, Mr. Smith?" he said. + +"Would that be safe, Mr. Henry?" + +"Perfectly safe, if she is willing to go; not otherwise. Get her to go +willingly for ten minutes, and see if she is not the better for it. +What I want is to make the blood go quicker and more plentifully +through her brain. She has not fever enough. She does not live fast +enough." + +"I will try," I said. "Have you been far to-day?" + +"Just come out. You might tell that by the mare. You should see her +three hours after this." + +And he patted her neck as if he loved her--as I am sure he did--and +trotted gently away. + +When I came up to the gate, Beeves was standing at it. + +"A nice gentleman that, sir!" said he. + +"He is, Beeves. I quite agree with you." + +"And rides a good mare, sir; and rides as well as any man in the +country. I never see him leave home in a hurry. Always goes gently +out, and comes gently in. What has gone between, you may see by her +skin when she comes home." + +"Does he hunt, Beeves?" + +"I believe not, sir; except the fox crosses him in one of his +rounds. Then if he is heading anywhere in his direction, they say +doctor and mare go at it like mad. He's got two more in his stable, +better horses to look at; but that's the one to go." + +"I wonder how he affords such animals." + +"They say he has a way of buying them lame, and a wonderful knack of +setting them up again. They all go, anyhow." + +"Will you say to your mistress, that I should like very much if she +would come to me here." + +Beeves stared, but said, "Yes, sir," and went in. I was now standing +in front of the house, doubtful of the reception Adela would give my +message, but judging that curiosity would aid my desire. I was right. +Beeves came back with the message that his mistress would join me in a +few minutes. In a quarter of an hour she came, wrapt in furs. She was +very pale, but her eye was brighter than usual, and it did not shrink +from the cold glitter of the snow. She put her arm in mine, and we +walked for ten minutes along the dry gravel walks, chatting +cheerfully, about anything and nothing. + +"Now you must go in," I said. + +"Not yet, surely, uncle. By the bye, do you think it was right of me +to come out?" + +"Mr. Henry Armstrong said you might." + +She did not reply, but I thought a slight rose-colour tinged her +cheek. + +"But he said you must not be out more than ten minutes." + +"Well, I suppose I must do as I am told." + +And she turned at once, and went up the stair to the door, almost as +lightly as any other girl of her age. + +There was some progress, plainly enough. But was that a rose-tinge I +had seen on her cheek or not? + +The next evening, after tea, we arranged ourselves much as on the last +occasion; and Mr. Bloomfield, taking a neat manuscript from his +pocket, and evidently restraining himself from apology and +explanation, although as evidently nervous about the whole proceeding, +and jealous of his own presumption, began to read as follows. + +His voice trembled as he read, and his wife's face was a shade or two +paler than usual. + + "BIRTH, DREAMING, AND DEATH. + +"In a little room, scantily furnished, lighted, not from the window, +for it was dark without, and the shutters were closed, but from the +peaked flame of a small, clear-burning lamp, sat a young man, with his +back to the lamp and his face to the fire. No book or paper on the +table indicated labour just forsaken; nor could one tell from his +eyes, in which the light had all retreated inwards, whether his +consciousness was absorbed in thought, or reverie only. The window +curtains, which scarcely concealed the shutters, were of coarse +texture, but of brilliant scarlet--for he loved bright colours; and +the faint reflection they threw on his pale, thin face, made it look +more delicate than it would have seemed in pure daylight. Two or three +bookshelves, suspended by cords from a nail in the wall, contained a +collection of books, poverty-stricken as to numbers, with but few to +fill up the chronological gap between the Greek New Testament and +stray volumes of the poets of the present century. But his love for +the souls of his individual books was the stronger that there was no +possibility of its degenerating into avarice for the bodies or +outsides whose aggregate constitutes the piece of house-furniture +called a library. + +"Some years before, the young man (my story is so short, and calls in +so few personages, that I need not give him a name) had aspired, under +the influence of religious and sympathetic feeling, to be a clergyman; +but Providence, either in the form of poverty, or of theological +difficulty, had prevented his prosecuting his studies to that end. And +now he was only a village schoolmaster, nor likely to advance +further. I have said _only_ a village schoolmaster; but is it not +better to be a teacher _of_ babes than a preacher _to_ men, at any +time; not to speak of those troublous times of transition, wherein a +difference of degree must so often assume the appearance of a +difference of kind? That man is more happy--I will not say more +blessed--who, loving boys and girls, is loved and revered by them, +than he who, ministering unto men and women, is compelled to pour his +words into the filter of religious suspicion, whence the water is +allowed to pass away unheeded, and only the residuum is retained for +the analysis of ignorant party-spirit. + +"He had married a simple village girl, in whose eyes he was nobler +than the noblest--to whom he was the mirror, in which the real forms +of all things around were reflected. Who dares pity my poor village +schoolmaster? I fling his pity away. Had he not found in her love the +verdict of God, that he was worth loving? Did he not in her possess +the eternal and unchangeable? Were not her eyes openings through which +he looked into the great depths that could not be measured or +represented? She was his public, his society, his critic. He found in +her the heaven of his rest. God gave unto him immortality, and he was +glad. For his ambition, it had died of its own mortality. He read the +words of Jesus, and the words of great prophets whom he has sent; and +learned that the wind-tossed anemone is a word of God as real and true +as the unbending oak beneath which it grows--that reality is an +absolute existence precluding degrees. If his mind was, as his room, +scantily furnished, it was yet lofty; if his light was small, it was +brilliant. God lived, and he lived. Perhaps the highest moral height +which a man can reach, and at the same time the most difficult of +attainment, is the willingness to be _nothing_ relatively, so that he +attain that positive excellence which the original conditions of his +being render not merely possible, but imperative. It is nothing to a +man to be greater or less than another--to be esteemed or otherwise by +the public or private world in which he moves. Does he, or does he +not, behold and love and live the unchangeable, the essential, the +divine? This he can only do according as God has made him. He can +behold and understand God in the least degree, as well as in the +greatest, only by the godlike within him; and he that loves thus the +good and great has no room, no thought, no necessity for comparison +and difference. The truth satisfies him. He lives in its +absoluteness. God makes the glow-worm as well as the star; the light +in both is divine. If mine be an earth-star to gladden the wayside, I +must cultivate humbly and rejoicingly its green earth-glow, and not +seek to blanch it to the whiteness of the stars that lie in the fields +of blue. For to deny God in my own being is to cease to behold him in +any. God and man can meet only by the man's becoming that which God +meant him to be. Then he enters into the house of life, which is +greater than the house of fame. It is better to be a child in a green +field, than a knight of many orders in a state ceremonial. + +"All night long he had sat there, and morning was drawing nigh. He has +not heard the busy wind all night, heaping up snow against the house, +which will make him start at the ghostly face of the world when at +length he opens the shutters, and it stares upon him so white. For up +in a little room above, white-curtained, like the great earth without, +there has been a storm, too, half the night--moanings and prayers--and +some forbidden tears; but now, at length, it is over; and through the +portals of two mouths instead of one, flows and ebbs the tide of the +great air-sea which feeds the life of man. With the sorrow of the +mother, the new life is purchased for the child; our very being is +redeemed from nothingness with the pains of a death of which we know +nothing. + +"An hour has gone by since the watcher below has been delivered from +the fear and doubt that held him. He has seen the mother and the +child--the first she has given to life and him--and has returned to +his lonely room, quiet and glad. + +"But not long did he sit thus before thoughts of doubt awoke in his +mind. He remembered his scanty income, and the somewhat feeble health +of his wife. One or two small debts he had contracted, seemed +absolutely to press on his bosom; and the newborn child--'oh! how +doubly welcome,' he thought, 'if I were but half as rich again as I +am!'--brought with it, as its own love, so its own care. The dogs of +need, that so often hunt us up to heaven, seemed hard upon his heels; +and he prayed to God with fervour; and as he prayed he fell asleep in +his chair, and as he slept he dreamed. The fire and the lamp burned on +as before, but threw no rays into his soul; yet now, for the first +time, he seemed to become aware of the storm without; for his dream +was as follows:-- + +"He lay in his bed, and listened to the howling of the wintry wind. He +trembled at the thought of the pitiless cold, and turned to sleep +again, when he thought he heard a feeble knocking at the door. He rose +in haste, and went down with a light. As he opened the door, the wind, +entering with a gust of frosty particles, blew out his candle; but he +found it unnecessary, for the grey dawn had come. Looking out, he saw +nothing at first; but a second look, turned downwards, showed him a +little half-frozen child, who looked quietly, but beseechingly, in his +face. His hair was filled with drifted snow, and his little hands and +cheeks were blue with cold. The heart of the schoolmaster swelled to +bursting with the spring-flood of love and pity that rose up within +it. He lifted the child to his bosom, and carried him into the house; +where, in the dream's incongruity, he found a fire blazing in the room +in which he now slept. The child said never a word. He set him by the +fire, and made haste to get hot water, and put him in a warm bath. He +never doubted that this was a stray orphan who had wandered to him for +protection, and he felt that he could not part with him again; even +though the train of his previous troubles and doubts once more passed +through the mind of the dreamer, and there seemed no answer to his +perplexities for the lack of that cheap thing, gold--yea, silver. But +when he had undressed and bathed the little orphan, and having dried +him on his knees, set him down to reach something warm to wrap him in, +the boy suddenly looked up in his face, as if revived, and said with a +heavenly smile, 'I am the child Jesus.' 'The child Jesus!' said the +dreamer, astonished. 'Thou art like any other child.' 'No, do not say +so,' returned the boy; 'but say, _Any other child is like me_.' And +the child and the dream slowly faded away; and he awoke with these +words sounding in his heart--'Whosoever shall receiveth one of such +children in my name, receiveth me; and whosoever shall receive me, +receiveth not me, but him that sent me.' It was the voice of God +saying to him: 'Thou wouldst receive the child whom I sent thee out of +the cold, stormy night; receive the new child out of the cold waste +into the warm human house, as the door by which it can enter God's +house, its home. If better could be done for it, or for thee, would I +have sent it hither? Through thy love, my little one must learn my +love and be blessed. And thou shall not keep it without thy reward. +For thy necessities--in thy little house, is there not yet room? in +thy barrel, is there not yet meal? and thy purse is not empty quite. +Thou canst not eat more than a mouthful at once. I have made thee +so. Is it any trouble to me to take care of thee? Only I prefer to +feed thee from my own hand, and not from thy store.'And the +schoolmaster sprang up in joy, ran upstairs, kissed his wife, and +clasped the baby in his arms in the name of the child Jesus. And in +that embrace, he knew that he received God to his heart. Soon, with a +tender, beaming face, he was wading through the snow to the +school-house, where he spent a happy day amidst the rosy faces and +bright eyes of his boys and girls. These, likewise, he loved the more +dearly and joyfully for that dream, and those words in his heart; so +that, amidst their true child-faces, (all going well with them, as not +unfrequently happened in his schoolroom), he felt as if all the +elements of Paradise were gathered around him, and knew that he was +God's child, doing God's work. + +"But while that dream was passing through the soul of the husband, +another visited the wife, as she lay in the faintness and trembling +joy of the new motherhood. For although she that has been mother +before, is not the less a new mother to the new child, her former +relation not covering with its wings the fresh bird in the nest of her +bosom, yet there must be a peculiar delight in the thoughts and +feelings that come with the first-born.--As she lay half in a sleep, +half in a faint, with the vapours of a gentle delirium floating +through her brain, without losing the sense of existence she lost the +consciousness of its form, and thought she lay, not a young mother in +her bed, but a nosegay of wild flowers in a basket, crushed, flattened +and half-withered. With her in the basket lay other bunches of +flowers, whose odours, some rare as well as rich, revealed to her the +sad contrast in which she was placed. Beside her lay a cluster of +delicately curved, faintly tinged, tea-scented roses; while she was +only blue hyacinth bells, pale primroses, amethyst anemones, closed +blood-coloured daisies, purple violets, and one sweet-scented, pure +white orchis. The basket lay on the counter of a well-known little +shop in the village, waiting for purchasers. By and by her own husband +entered the shop, and approached the basket to choose a nosegay. 'Ah!' +thought she, 'will he choose me? How dreadful if he should not, and I +should be left lying here, while he takes another! But how should he +choose me? They are all so beautiful; and even my scent is nearly +gone. And he cannot know that it is I lying here. Alas! alas!' But as +she thought thus, she felt his hand clasp her, heard the ransom-money +fall, and felt that she was pressed to his face and lips, as he passed +from the shop. He _had_ chosen her; he _had_ known her. She opened her +eyes: her husband's kiss had awakened her. She did not speak, but +looked up thankfully in his eyes, as if he had, in fact, like one of +the old knights, delivered her from the transformation of some evil +magic, by the counter-enchantment of a kiss, and restored her from a +half-withered nosegay to be a woman, a wife, a mother. The dream +comforted her much, for she had often feared that she, the simple, +so-called uneducated girl, could not be enough for the great +schoolmaster. But soon her thoughts flowed into another channel; the +tears rose in her dark eyes, shining clear from beneath a stream that +was not of sorrow; and it was only weakness that kept her from +uttering audible words like these:--'Father in heaven, shall I trust +my husband's love, and doubt thine? Wilt thou meet less richly the +fearing hope of thy child's heart, than he in my dream met the longing +of his wife's? He was perfected in my eyes by the love he bore +me--shall I find thee less complete? Here I lie on thy world, faint, +and crushed, and withered; and my soul often seems as if it had lost +all the odours that should float up in the sweet-smelling savour of +thankfulness and love to thee. But thou hast only to take me, only to +choose me, only to clasp me to thy bosom, and I shall be a beautiful +singing angel, singing to God, and comforting my husband while I +sing. Father, take me, possess me, fill me!' + +"So she lay patiently waiting for the summer-time of restored strength +that drew slowly nigh. With her husband and her child near her, in her +soul, and God everywhere, there was for her no death, and no +hurt. When she said to herself, 'How rich I am!' it was with the +riches that pass not away--the riches of the Son of man; for in her +treasures, the human and the divine were blended--were one. + +"But there was a hard trial in store for them. They had learned to +receive what the Father sent: they had now to learn that what he gave +he gave eternally, after his own being--his own glory. For ere the +mother awoke from her first sleep, the baby, like a frolicsome child- +angel, that but tapped at his mother's window and fled--the baby died; +died while the mother slept away the pangs of its birth, died while +the father was teaching other babes out of the joy of his new +fatherhood. + +"When the mother woke, she lay still in her joy--the joy of a doubled +life; and knew not that death had been there, and had left behind only +the little human coffin. + +"'Nurse, bring me the baby,' she said at last. 'I want to see it.' + +"But the nurse pretended not to hear. + +"'I want to nurse it. Bring it.' + +"She had not yet learned to say _him_; for it was her first baby. + +"But the nurse went out of the room, and remained some minutes +away. When she returned, the mother spoke more absolutely, and the +nurse was compelled to reply--at last. + +"'Nurse, do bring me the baby; I am quite able to nurse it now.' + +"'Not yet, if you please, ma'am. Really you must rest a while +first. Do try to go to sleep.' + +"The nurse spoke steadily, and looked her too straight in the face; +and there was a constraint in her voice, a determination to be calm, +that at once roused the suspicion of the mother; for though her +first-born was dead, and she had given birth to what was now, as far +as the eye could reach, the waxen image of a son, a child had come +from God, and had departed to him again; and she was his mother. + +"And the fear fell upon her heart that it might be as it was; and, +looking at her attendant with a face blanched yet more with fear than +with suffering, she said, + +"'Nurse, is the baby--?' + +"She could not say _dead_; for to utter the word would be at once to +make it possible that the only fruit of her labour had been pain and +sorrow. + +"But the nurse saw that further concealment was impossible; and, +without another word, went and fetched the husband, who, with face +pale as the mother's, brought the baby, dressed in its white clothes, +and laid it by its mother's side, where it lay too still. + +"'Oh, ma'am, do not take on so,' said the nurse, as she saw the face +of the mother grow like the face of the child, as if she were about to +rush after him into the dark. + +"But she was not 'taking on' at all. She only felt that pain at her +heart, which is the farewell kiss of a long-cherished joy. Though cast +out of paradise into a world that looked very dull and weary, yet, +used to suffering, and always claiming from God the consolation it +needed, and satisfied with that, she was able, presently, to look up +in her husband's face, and try to reassure him of her well-being by a +dreary smile. + +"'Leave the baby,' she said; and they left it where it was. Long and +earnestly she gazed on the perfect tiny features of the little +alabaster countenance, and tried to feel that this was the child she +had been so long waiting for. As she looked, she fancied she heard it +breathe, and she thought--'What if it should be only asleep!' but, +alas! the eyes would not open, and when she drew it close to her, she +shivered to feel it so cold. At length, as her eyes wandered over and +over the little face, a look of her husband dawned unexpectedly upon +it; and, as if the wife's heart awoke the mother's she cried out, +'Baby! baby!' and burst into tears, during which weeping she fell +asleep. + +"When she awoke, she found the babe had been removed while she slept. +But the unsatisfied heart of the mother longed to look again on the +form of the child; and again, though with remonstrance from the nurse, +it was laid beside her. All day and all night long, it remained by her +side, like a little frozen thing that had wandered from its home, and +now lay dead by the door. + +"Next morning the nurse protested that she must part with it, for it +made her fret; but she knew it quieted her, and she would rather keep +her little lifeless babe. At length the nurse appealed to the father; +and the mother feared he would think it necessary to remove it; but to +her joy and gratitude he said, 'No, no; let her keep it as long as she +likes.' And she loved her husband the more for that; for he understood +her. + +"Then she had the cradle brought near the bed, all ready as it was for +a live child that had open eyes, and therefore needed sleep--needed +the lids of the brain to close, when it was filled full of the strange +colours and forms of the new world. But this one needed no cradle, for +it slept on. It needed, instead of the little curtains to darken it to +sleep, a great sunlight to wake it up from the darkness, and the +ever-satisfied rest. Yet she laid it in the cradle, which she had set +near her, where she could see it, with the little hand and arm laid +out on the white coverlet. If she could only keep it so! Could not +something be done, if not to awake it, yet to turn it to stone, and +let it remain so for ever? No; the body must go back to its mother, +the earth, and the _form_ which is immortal, being the thought of God, +must go back to its Father--the Maker. And as it lay in the white +cradle, a white coffin was being made for it. And the mother thought: +'I wonder which trees are growing coffins for my husband and me.' + +"But ere the child, that had the prayer of Job in his grief, and had +died from its mother's womb, was carried away to be buried, the mother +prayed over it this prayer:--'O God, if thou wilt not let me be a +mother, I have one refuge: I will go back and be a child: I will be +thy child more than ever. My mother-heart will find relief in +childhood towards its Father. For is it not the same nature that makes +the true mother and the true child? Is it not the same thought +blossoming upward and blossoming downward? So there is God the Father +and God the Son. Thou wilt keep my little son for me. He has gone home +to be nursed for me. And when I grow well, I will be more simple, and +truthful, and joyful in thy sight. And now thou art taking away my +child, my plaything, from me. But I think how pleased I should be, if +I had a daughter, and she loved me so well that she only smiled when I +took her plaything from her. Oh! I will not disappoint thee--thou +shall have thy joy. Here I am, do with me what thou wilt; I will only +smile.' + +"And how fared the heart of the father? At first, in the bitterness of +his grief, he called the loss of his child a punishment for his doubt +and unbelief; and the feeling of punishment made the stroke more keen, +and the heart less willing to endure it. But better thoughts woke +within him ere long. + +"The old woman who swept out his schoolroom, came in the evening to +inquire after the mistress, and to offer her condolences on the loss +of the baby. She came likewise to tell the news, that a certain old +man of little respectability had departed at last, unregretted by a +single soul in the village but herself, who had been his nurse through +the last tedious illness. + +"The schoolmaster thought with himself: + +"'Can that soiled and withered leaf of a man, and my little snow-flake +of a baby, have gone the same road? Will they meet by the way? Can +they talk about the same thing--anything? They must part on the +boarders of the shining land, and they could hardly speak by the way.' + +"'He will live four-and-twenty hours, nurse,' the doctor had said. + +"'No, doctor; he will die to-night,' the nurse had replied; during +which whispered dialogue, the patient had lain breathing quietly, for +the last of suffering was nearly over. + +He was at the close of an ill-spent life, not so much selfishly +towards others as indulgently towards himself. He had failed of true +joy by trying often and perseveringly to create a false one; and now, +about to knock at the gate of the other world, he bore with him no +burden of the good things of this; and one might be tempted to say of +him, that it were better he had not been born. The great majestic +mystery lay before him--but when would he see its majesty? + +"He was dying thus, because he had tried to live as Nature said he +should not live; and he had taken his own wages--for the law of the +Maker is the necessity of his creature. His own children had forsaken +him, for they were not perfect as their Father in heaven, who maketh +his sun to shine on the evil and on the good. Instead of doubling +their care as his need doubled, they had thought of the disgrace he +brought on them, and not of the duty they owed him; and now, left to +die alone for them, he was waited on by this hired nurse, who, +familiar with death-beds, knew better than the doctor--knew that he +could live only a few hours. + +"Stooping to his ear, she had told him, as gently as she could--for +she thought she ought not to conceal it--that he must die that night. +He had lain silent for a few moments; then had called her, and, with +broken and failing voice, had said, 'Nurse, you are the only friend I +have: give me one kiss before I die.' And the woman-heart had answered +the prayer. + +"'And,' said the old woman, 'he put his arms round my neck, and gave +me a long kiss, such a long kiss! and then he turned his face away, +and never spoke again.' + +"So, with the last unction of a woman's kiss, with this baptism for +the dead, he had departed. + +"'Poor old man! he had not quite destroyed his heart yet,' thought the +schoolmaster. 'Surely it was the child-nature that woke in him at the +last, when the only thing left for his soul to desire, the only thing +he could think of as a preparation for the dread something, was a +kiss. Strange conjunction, yet simple and natural! Eternity--a kiss. +Kiss me; for I am going to the Unknown!--Poor old man!' the +schoolmaster went on in his thoughts, 'I hope my baby has met him, and +put his tiny hand in the poor old shaking hand, and so led him across +the borders into the shining land, and up to where Jesus sits, and +said to the Lord: "Lord, forgive this old man, for he knew not what he +did." And I trust the Lord has forgiven him.' + +"And then the bereaved father fell on his knees, and cried out: + +"'Lord, thou hast not punished me. Thou wouldst not punish for a +passing thought of troubled unbelief, with which I strove. Lord, take +my child and his mother and me, and do what thou wilt with us. I know +thou givest not, to take again.' + +"And ere the schoolmaster could call his protestantism to his aid, he +had ended his prayer with the cry: + +"'And O God! have mercy upon the poor old man, and lay not his sins to +his charge.' + +"For, though a woman's kiss may comfort a man to eternity, it is not +all he needs. And the thought of his lost child had made the soul of +the father compassionate." + + * * * * * + +He ceased, and we sat silent. + + * * * * * + +END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Adela Cathcart, Vol. 1, by George MacDonald + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ADELA CATHCART, VOL. 1 *** + +This file should be named 7aca110.txt or 7aca110.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 7aca111.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 7aca110a.txt + +Produced by Distributed Proofreaders + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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