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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/33599-8.txt b/33599-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ebe9c22 --- /dev/null +++ b/33599-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4420 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Rose of a Hundred Leaves, by +Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +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: A Rose of a Hundred Leaves + A Love Story + +Author: Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +Release Date: September 1, 2010 [EBook #33599] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ROSE OF A HUNDRED LEAVES *** + + + + +Produced by Katherine Ward and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + +A ROSE OF A HUNDRED LEAVES + +A Love Story + + +BY AMELIA E. BARR + +AUTHOR OF "FRIEND OLIVIA," "THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON," +"JAN VEDDER'S WIFE," ETC. + + + NEW YORK + DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY + 1891 + +Copyright, 1891, By J. B. Lippincott Company. + +Copyright, 1891, By Dodd, Mead and Company. + +All rights reserved. + +University Press: John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + CHAPTER PAGE + I. The Wild Rose is the Sweetest 9 + II. Forgive me, Christ! 35 + III. Only Brother Will 77 + IV. For Mother's Sake 113 + V. But they were Young 151 + VI. "Love shall be Lord of Sandy-Side" 180 + VII. "A Rose of a Hundred Leaves" 208 + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE WILD ROSE IS THE SWEETEST. + + +I tell again the oldest and the newest story of all the world,--the +story of Invincible Love! + +This tale divine--ancient as the beginning of things, fresh and young +as the passing hour--has forms and names various as humanity. The +story of Aspatria Anneys is but one of these,--one leaf from all the +roses in the world, one note of all its myriad of songs. + +Aspatria was born at Seat-Ambar, an old house in Allerdale. It had +Skiddaw to shelter it on the northwest; and it looked boldly out +across the Solway, and into that sequestered valley in Furness known +as "the Vale of the Deadly Nightshade." The plant still grew there +abundantly, and the villagers still kept the knowledge of its medical +value taught them by the old monks of Furness. For these curious, +patient herbalists had discovered the blessing hidden in the fair, +poisonous amaryllis, long before modern physicians called it +"belladonna." + +The plant, with all its lovely relations, had settled in the garden at +Seat-Ambar. Aspatria's mother had loved them all: the girl could still +remember her thin white hands clasping the golden jonquils in her +coffin. This memory was in her heart, as she hastened through the +lonely place one evening in spring. It ought to have been a pleasant +spot, for it was full of snowdrops and daffodils, and many sweet +old-fashioned shrubs and flowers; but it was a stormy night, and the +blossoms were plashed and downcast, and all the birds in hiding from +the fierce wind and driving rain. + +She was glad to get out of the gray, wet, shivery atmosphere, and +to come into the large hall, ruddy and glowing with fire and +candle-light. Her brothers William and Brune sat at the table. Will +was counting money; it stood in small gold and silver pillars +before him. Brune was making fishing-flies. Both looked up at her +entrance; they did not think words necessary for such a little +maid. Yet both loved her; she was their only sister, and both gave +her the respect to which she was entitled as co-heir with them of +the Ambar estate. + +She was just sixteen, and not yet beautiful. She was too young for +beauty. Her form was not developed; she would probably gain two or +three inches in height; and her face, though exquisitely modelled, +wanted the refining which comes either from a multitude of complex +emotions or is given at once by some great heart-sorrow. Yet she had +fascination for those capable of feeling her charm. Her large brown +eyes had their childlike clearness; they looked every one in the face +with its security of good-will. Her mouth was a tempting mouth; the +lips had not lost their bow-shape; they were red and pouting, but +withal ever ready to part. She might have been born with a smile. Her +hair, soft and dark, had that rarest quality of soft hair,--a tendency +to make itself into little curls and tendrils and stray down the white +throat and over the white brow; yet it was carefully parted and +confined in two long braids, tied at the ends with a black ribbon. + +She wore a black dress. It was plainly made, and its broad ruffle +around the open throat gave it an air of simplicity almost childlike +in effect. Her arms below the elbows were uncovered, and her hands +were small and finely formed, as patrician hands should be. There was +no ring upon them, and no bracelet above them. She wore neither brooch +nor locket, nor ornament of any kind about her person; only a daffodil +laid against the snowy skin of her bosom. Even this effect was not the +result of coquetry; it was a holy and loving sentiment materialized. + +Altogether, she was a girl quite in keeping with the antique, homelike +air of the handsome room she entered; her look, her manner, and even +her speech had the local stamp; she was evidently a daughter of the +land. Her brothers resembled her after their masculine fashion. They +were big men, whom nature had built for the spaces of the moors and +mountains and the wide entrances of these old Cumberland homes. They +would have been pushed to pass through narrow city doorways. A fine +open-air colour was in their faces; they had that confident manner +which great physical strength imparts, and that air of conscious pride +which is born in lords of the soil. + +Indeed, William and Brune Anneys made one understand how truthfully +popular nomenclature has called an Englishman "John Bull." For whoever +has seen a bull in its native pastures--proud, obstinate, conscious of +his strength, and withal a little surly--must understand that there is +a taurine basis to the English character, finely expressed by the +national appellation. + +A great thing was to happen that hour, and all three were as +unconscious of the approaching fate as if it was to be a part of +another existence. Squire William finished his accounts, and played a +game of chess with his brother. Aspatria walked up and down the hall, +with her hands clasped behind her, or sat still in the Squire's +hearth-chair, with her dress lifted a little in front, to let the +pleasant heat fall upon her ankles. She did not think of reading or of +sewing, or of improving the time in any way. Perhaps she was not as +dependent on books as the women of this generation. Aspatria's mind +was sensitive and observing; it lived very well on its own ideas. + +The storm increased in violence; the rain beat against the windows, +and the wind howled at the nail-studded oak door, as if it intended to +blow it down. A big ploughman entered the room, shyly pulled his +front hair, and looked with stolid inquiry into his master's face. +The Squire pushed aside the chess-board, rose, and went to the +hearth-stone; for he was young in his authority, and he felt himself +on the hearth-stone to hold an impregnable position. + +"Well, Steve Bell, what is it?" + +"Be I to sow the high land next, sir?" + +"If you can have a face or back wind, it will be best; if you have an +elbow-wind, you must give the land an extra half-bushel." + +"Be I to sow mother-of-corn[1] on the east holme?" + + [1] Clover. + +"It is matterless. Is it going to be a flashy spring?" + +"A right season, sir,--plenty of manger-meat." + +"How is the weather?" + +"The rain is near past; it will take up at midnight." + +As he spoke, Aspatria, who had been sitting with folded hands and +half-shut eyes, straightened herself suddenly, and threw up her head +to listen. There was certainly the tramp of a horse's feet, and in a +moment the door was loudly and impatiently struck with the metal +handle of a riding-whip. + +Steve Bell went to answer the summons; Brune trailed slowly after +him. Aspatria and the Squire heard nothing on the hearth but a human +voice blown about and away by the wind. But Steve's reply was distinct +enough,-- + +"You be wanting Redware Hall, sir? Cush! it's unsensible to try for +it. The hills are slape as ice; the becks are full; the moss will make +a mouthful of you--horse and man--to-night." + +The Squire went forward, and Aspatria also. Aspatria lifted a candle, +and carried it high in her hand. That was the first glimpse of her +that Sir Ulfar Fenwick had. + +"You must stay at Seat-Ambar to-night," said William Anneys. "You +cannot go farther and be sure of your life. You are welcome here +heartily, sir." + +The traveller dismounted, gave his horse to Steve, and with words of +gratitude came out of the rain and darkness into the light and comfort +of the home opened to him. "I am Ulfar Fenwick," he said,--"Fenwick of +Fenwick and Outerby; and I think you must be William Anneys of +Ambar-Side." + +"The same, sir. This is my brother Brune, and my sister Aspatria. You +are dreeping wet, sir. Come to my room and change your clothing." + +Sir Ulfar bowed and smiled assent; and the bow and the smile were +Aspatria's. Her cheeks burned; a strange new life was in all her +veins. She hurried the housekeeper and the servants, and she brought +out the silver and the damask, and the famous crystal cup in its stand +of gold, which was the lucky bowl of Ambar-Side. When Fenwick came +back to the hall, there was a feast spread for him; and he ate and +drank, and charmed every one with his fine manner and his witty +conversation. + +They sat until midnight,--an hour strange to Seat-Ambar. No one +native in that house had ever seen it before, no one ever felt its +mysterious influence. Sir Ulfar had been charming them with tales of +the strange lands he had visited, and the strange peoples who dwelt +in them. He had not spoken much to Aspatria, but it was in her face +he had found inspiration and sympathy. For her young eyes looked +out with such eager interest, with glances so seeking, so without +guile and misgiving, that their bright rays found a corner in his +heart into which no woman had ever before penetrated. And she was +equally subjugated by his more modern orbs,--orbs with that steely +point of brilliant light, generated by large experience and varied +emotion,--electric orbs, such as never shone in the elder world. + +When the clock struck twelve, Squire Anneys rose with amazement. "Why, +it is strike of midnight!" he said. "It is past all, how the hours +have flown! But we mustn't put off sleeping-time any longer. +Good-night heartily to you, sir. It will be many a long day till I +forget this night. What doings you have seen, sir!" + +He was talking thus to his guest, as he led him to the guest-room. +Aspatria still stood by the dying fire. Brune rose silently, +stretched his big arms, and said: "I'll be going likewise. You had +best remember the time of night, Aspatria." + +"What do you think of him, Brune?" + +"Fenwick! I wouldn't think too high of him. One might have to come +down a peg or two. He sets a good deal of store by himself, I should +say." + +"You and I are of two ways of judging, Brune." + +"Never mind; time will let light into all our ways of judging." + +He went yawning upstairs and Aspatria slowly followed. She was not a +bit sleepy. She was wider awake than she had ever been before. Her +hands quivered like a swallow's wings; her face was rosy and luminous. +She removed her clothing, and unbraided her hair and shook it loose +over her slim shoulders. There was a smile on her lips through all +these preparations for sleep,--a smile innocent and glad. Suddenly she +lifted the candle and carried it to the mirror. She desired to look at +herself, and she blushed deeply as she gratified the wish. Was she +fair enough to please this wonderful stranger? + +It was the first time such a query had ever come to her heart. She was +inclined to answer it honestly. Holding the light slightly above her +head, she examined her claims to his regard. Her expressive face, her +starry eyes, her crimson, pouting lips, her long dark hair, her +slight, virginal figure in its gown of white muslin scantily trimmed +with English thread-lace, her small, bare feet, her air of childlike, +curious happiness,--all these things, taken together, pleased and +satisfied her desires, though she knew not how or why. + +Then she composed herself with intentional earnestness. She must "say +her prayers." As yet it was only saying prayers with Aspatria,--only a +holy habit. A large Book of Common Prayer stood open against an oaken +rest on a table; a cushion of black velvet was beneath it. Ere she +knelt, she reflected that it was very late, and that her Collect and +Lord's Prayer would be sufficient. Youth has such confidence in the +sympathy of God. She dropped softly on her knees and said her portion. +God would understand the rest. The little ceremony soothed her, as a +mother's kiss might have done; and with a happy sigh she put out the +light. The old house was dark and still, but her guardian angel saw +her small hands loose lying on the snowy linen, and heard her whisper, +"Dear God! how happy I am!" And this joyous orison was the acceptable +prayer that left the smile of peace upon her sleeping face. + +In the guest-chamber Ulfar Fenwick was also holding a session with +himself. He had come to his room very wide awake; midnight was an +early hour to him. And the incidents he had been telling filled his +mind with images of the past. He could not at once put them aside. +Women he had loved and left visited his memory,--light loves of a +season, in which both had declared themselves broken-hearted at +parting, and both had known that they would very soon forget. Neither +was much to blame: the maid had long ceased to remember his vows and +kisses; he, in some cases, had forgotten her name. Yet, sitting there +by the glowing oak logs, he had visions of fair faces in all kinds of +surroundings,--in lighted halls, in moon-lit groves under the great +stars of the tropics, on the Shetland seas when the aurora made for +lovers an enchanted atmosphere and a light in which beauty was +glorified. Well, they had passed as April passes, and now,-- + + As a glimpse of a burnt-out ember + Recalls a regret of the sun, + He remembered, forgot, and remembered + What love saw done and undone. + +Aspatria was different from all. He whispered her strange name on his +lips, and he thought it must have wandered from some sunny southern +clime into these northern solitudes. His eyes shone; his heart beat. +He said to it: "Make room for this innocent little one! What a darling +she is! How clear, how candid, how beautiful! Oh, to be loved by such +a woman! Oh, to kiss her!--to feel her kiss me!" He set his mouth +tightly; the soft dreamy look in his face changed to one of purpose +and pleasure. + +"I shall win her, or die for it," he said. "By Saint George! I would +rather die than know that any other man had married her." + +Yet the thought of marriage somewhat sobered him. "I should have to +give up my voyage to the Spanish Colonies,--and I am very much +interested in their struggle. I could not take her to Mexico, I +suppose,--there is nothing but fighting there; and I could not--no, I +could not leave her. If she were mine, I should hate to have any one +else breathe the same air with her. I could not endure that others +should speak to her. I should want to strike any man who touched her +hand. Perhaps I had better go away in the morning, and ride this road +no more. I have made my plans." + +And fate had made other plans. Who can fight against his destiny? When +he saw Aspatria in the morning, every plan that did not include her +seemed unworthy of his consideration. She was ten times lovelier in +the daylight. She had that fresh invincible charm which women of +culture and intellect seldom have: she was inspired by her heart. It +taught her a thousand delightful subjugating ways. She served his +breakfast with her own fair hands; she offered him the first sweet +flowers in the garden; she fluttered around his necessities, his +desires, his intentions, with a grace and a kindness nothing but love +could have taught her. + +He thanked her with marvellous glances, with smiles, with single words +dropped only for her ears, with all the potent eloquence which passion +and experience teach. And he had to pay the price, as all men must do. +The lesson he taught he also learned. "Aspatria!" he said, in soft, +penetrating accents; and when she answered his call and came to his +side, her dress trailing across his feet bewitched him. They were in +the garden, and he clasped her hand, and went down the budding alleys +with her, speechless, but gazing into her face until she dropped her +tremulous, transparent lids before her eyes; they were too full of +light and love to show to any mortal. + +The sky was white and blue, the air fresh and sweet; the swallows had +just come, and were chattering with the starlings; hundreds of +daffodils "danced in the wind" and lighted the ground at their +feet; troops of celandines starred the brook that babbled by the +bee-skips; the southernwood, the wall-flower, the budding thyme and +sweet-brier,--a thousand exhalations filled the air and intensified +that intoxication of heart and senses which makes the first stage of +love's fever delirious. + +Fenwick went away in the afternoon, and his adieus were mostly made to +the Squire. He had done his best to win his favour, and he had been +successful. He left Seat-Ambar under an engagement to return soon and +try his skill in wrestling and pole-leaping with Brune. Aspatria knew +he would return: a voice which Fenwick's voice only echoed told her +so. She watched him from her own window across the meadows, and up the +mountain, until he was lost to her vision. + +She was doubtless very much in love, though as yet she had not +admitted the fact to herself. The experience had come with a really +shocking swiftness. Her heart was half angry and half abashed by its +instantaneous surrender. Two circumstances had promoted this +condition. First, the singular charm of the man. Ulfar Fenwick was +unlike any one she had ever seen. The squires and gentlemen who came +to Seat-Ambar were physically the finest fellows in England, but noble +women look for something more than mere bulk in a man. Sir Ulfar +Fenwick had this something more. Culture, travel, great experience +with women, had added to his heroic form a charm flesh and sinew alone +could never compass. And if he had lacked all other physical +advantages, he possessed eyes which had been filled to the brim with +experiences of every kind,--gray eyes with pure, full lids thickly +fringed,--eyes always lustrous, sometimes piercingly bright. Secondly, +Aspatria had no knowledge which helped her to ward off attack or +protract surrender. In a multitude of lovers there is safety; but +Fenwick was Aspatria's first lover. + +He rode hard, as if he would ride from fate. Perhaps he hoped at this +early stage of feeling to do as he had often done before,-- + + To love--and then ride away. + +He had also a fresh, pressing anxiety to see his sister, who was Lady +of Redware Manor. Seven years--and much besides years--had passed +since they met. She was his only sister, and ten years his senior. She +loved him as mothers love, unquestioningly, with miraculous excuses +for all his shortcomings. She had been watching for his arrival many +hours before he appeared. + +"Ulfar! how welcome you are!" she cried, with tears in her eyes and +her voice. "Oh, my dear! how happy I am to see you once more!" + +She might have been his only love, he kissed and embraced and kissed +her again so fondly. Oh, wondrous tie of blood and kinship! At that +moment there really seemed to Ulfar Fenwick no one in the whole world +half so dear as his sister Elizabeth. + +He told her he had lost his way in the storm and been detained by +Squire Anneys; and she praised the Squire, and said that she would +evermore love him for his kindness. "I met him once, at the Election +Ball in Kendal. He danced with me; 'we neighbour each other,' you +see; and they are a grand old family, I can tell you." + +"There is a younger brother, called Brune." + +"I never saw him." + +"A sister also,--a child yet, but very handsome. You ought to see +her." + +"Why?" + +"You would like her. I do." + +"Ulfar, there is a 'thus far' in everything. In your wooing and +pursuing, the line lies south of Seat-Ambar. To wrong a woman of that +house would be wicked and dangerous." + +"Why should I wrong her? I have no intention to do so. I say she is a +lovely lady, a great beauty, worthy of honest love and supreme +devotion." + +"Such a rant about love and beauty! Nine tenths of the men who talk in +this way do but blaspheme Love by taking his name in vain." + +"However, Elizabeth, it is marriage or the Spanish colonies for me. It +is Miss Anneys, or Cuba, New Orleans, and Mexico. Santa Anna is a +supreme villain; I have a fancy to see such a specimen." + +"You are then between the devil and the deep sea; and I should say +that the one-legged Spaniard was preferable to the deep sea of +matrimony." + +"She is so fair! She has a virgin timidity that enchants me." + +"It will become matronly indecision, or mental weakness of will. In +the future it will drive you frantic." + +"Her sweet sensibility--" + +"Will crystallize into passionate irritation or callous opposition. +These childlike, tender, clinging maidens are often capable of sudden +and dangerous action. Better go to Cuba, or even to Mexico, Ulfar." + +"I suppose she has wealth. You will admit that excellence?" + +"She is co-heir with her brothers. She may have two thousand pounds a +year. You cannot afford to marry a girl so poor." + +"I have not yet come to regard a large sum of money as a kind of +virtue, or the want of it as a crime." + +"Your wife ought to represent you. How can this country-girl help you +in the society to which you belong?" + +"Society! What is society? In its elemental verity it means +toil, weariness, loss of rest and health, useless expense, envy, +disappointment, heart-burnings,--all for the sake of exchanging +entertainments with A and B, C and D. It means chaff instead of +wheat." + +"If you want to be happy, Ulfar, put this girl out of your mind. I am +sure her brothers will oppose your suit. They will not let their +sister leave Allerdale. No Anneys has ever done so." + +"You have strengthened my fancy, Elizabeth. There is a deal of +happiness in the idea of prevailing, of getting the mastery, of +putting hindrances out of the way." + +"Well, I have given you good advice." + +"There are many 'counsels of perfection' nobody dreams of following. +To advise a man in love not to love, is one of them." + +"Love!" she cried scornfully. "Before you make such a fuss about the +Spanish Colonies and their new-found freedom, free yourself, Ulfar! +You have been a slave to some woman all your life. You are one of +those men who are naturally not their own property. A child can turn +you hither and thither; a simple country girl can lead you." + +He laughed softly, and murmured,-- + + "There is a rose of a hundred leaves, + But the wild rose is the sweetest." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +FORGIVE ME, CHRIST! + + +The ultimatum reached by Fenwick in the consideration of any subject +was, to please himself. In the case of Aspatria Anneys he was +particularly determined to do so. It was in vain Lady Redware +entreated him to be rational. How could he be rational? It was the +preponderance of the emotional over the rational in his nature which +imparted so strong a personality to him. He grasped all circumstances +by feeling rather than by reason. + +In a few days he was again at Seat-Ambar. Aspatria drew him, as the +candle draws the moth which has once burned its wings at it. And among +the simple Anneys folk he found a hearty welcome. With Squire William +he travelled the hills, and counted the flocks, and speculated on the +value of the iron-ore cropping out of the ground. With Brune he went +line-fishing, and in the wide barns tried his skill in wrestling or +pole-leaping or single-stick. He tolerated the rusticity of the life, +for the charming moments he found with Aspatria. + +No one like Ulfar Fenwick had ever visited Ambar-Side. To the young +men, who read nothing but the Gentleman's Magazine and the Whitehaven +Herald, and to Aspatria, who had but a volume of the Ladies' Garden +Manual, Notable Things, her Bible and Common Prayer, Fenwick was a +book of travel, song, and story, of strange adventures, of odd bits of +knowledge, and funny experiences. Things old and new fell from his +handsome lips. Squire William and Brune heard them with grave +attention, with delight and laughter; Aspatria with eyes full of +wonder and admiration. + +As the season advanced and they grew more familiar, Aspatria was +thrown naturally into his society. The Squire was in the hay-field; +Brune had his task there also. Or they were down at the Long Pool, +washing the sheep, or on the fells, shearing them. In the haymaking, +Aspatria and Fenwick made some pretence of assistance; but they both +very soon wearied of the real labour. Aspatria would toss a few +furrows of the warm, sweet grass; but it was much sweeter to sit down +under the oak-tree with Fenwick at her side, and watch the moving +picture, and listen to the women singing in their high shrill voices, +as they turned the swaths, the Song of the Mower, and the men +mournfully shouting out the chorus to it,-- + + "We be all like grass! We be all like grass!" + +As for the oak, it liked them to sit under it; all its leaves talked +to each other about them. The starlings, though they are always in a +hurry, stopped to look at the lovers, and went off with a Q-q-q of +satisfaction. The crows, who are a bad lot, croaked innuendoes, and +said it was to be hoped that evil would not come of such folly. But +Aspatria and Fenwick listened only to each other; they saw the whole +round world in each other's eyes. + +Fenwick spoke very low; Aspatria had to droop her ear to his mouth to +understand his words. And they were such delightful words, she could +not bear to lose one of them. Then, as the sun grew warm, and the +scent of the grass filled the soft air, and the haymakers were more +and more subdued and quiet, heavenly languors stole over them. They +sat hand in hand,--Aspatria sometimes with shut eyes humming to +herself, sometimes dreamily pulling the long grass at her side; +Fenwick mostly silent, yet often whispering those words which are +single because they are too sweet to be double,--"Darling! Dearest! +Angel!" and the words drew her eyes to his eyes, drew her lips to his +lips; ere she was aware, her heart had passed from her in long, +loving, stolen kisses. On the fells, in the garden, in the empty, +silent rooms of the old house, it was a repetition of the same divine +song, with wondrously celestial variations. Goethe puts in Faust an +Interlude in Heaven: Fenwick and Aspatria were in their Interlude. + +One evening they stood among the wheat-sheaves. The round, yellow +harvest-moon was just rising above the fells, and the stars trembling +into vision. The reapers had gone away; their voices made faint, +fitful echoes down the misty lane. The Squire was driving home one +load of ripe wheat, and Brune another. Aspatria said softly, "The day +is over. We must go home. Come!" + +She stood in the warm mystical light, with one hand upon the bound +sheaf, the other stretched out to him. Her slim form in its white +dress, her upturned face, her star-like eyes,--he saw all at a glance. +He was subjugated to the innermost room of his heart. He answered, +with inexpressible emotion,-- + +"Come! Come to me, my Dear One! My Love! My Joy! My Wife!" He held her +close to his heart; he claimed her by no formal special yes, but by +all the sweet reluctances and sweeter yieldings, the thousand nameless +consents won day by day. + +Oh, the glory of that homeward walk! The moon beamed upon them. The +trees bent down to touch them. The heath and the honeysuckle made a +posy for them. The nightingale sang them a canticle. They did not seem +to walk; they trod on ether; they moved as people move in happy dreams +of other stars, where thought and wish are motion. It would have been +heaven upon earth if those minutes could have lasted; but it was only +an interlude. + +That night Fenwick spoke to Squire William and asked him for his +sister. The Squire was honestly confounded by the question. Aspatria +was such a little lass! It was beyond everything to talk of marrying +her. Still, in his heart he was proud and pleased at such high fortune +for the little lass; and he said, as soon as Fenwick's father and +family came forward as they should do, he would never be the one to +say nay. + +Fenwick's father lived at Fenwick Castle, on the shore of bleak +Northumberland. He was an old man, but his natural feelings and wisdom +were not abated. He consulted the History of Cumberland, and found +that the family of Ambar-Anneys was as ancient and honourable as his +own. But the girl was country-bred, and her fortune was small, and in +a measure dependent upon her brother's management of the estate. A +careless master of Ambar-Side would make Aspatria poor. While he was +considering these things, Lady Redware arrived at the castle, and they +talked over the matter together. + +"I expected Ulfar to marry very differently, and I must say I am +disappointed. But I suppose it will be useless to make any opposition, +Elizabeth," the old man said to his daughter. + +"Quite useless, father. But absence works miracles. Try to secure +twelve months. You ought to go to a warm climate this winter; ask +Ulfar to take you to Italy. In a year time may re-shuffle the cards. +And you must write to the girl, and to her eldest brother, who is a +fine fellow and as proud as Lucifer. I called upon them before I left +Cumberland. She is very handsome." + +"Handsome! Old men know, Elizabeth, that six months after a man is +married, it makes little difference to him whether his wife is +handsome or not." + +"That may be, or it may not be, father. The thing to consider is, that +young men unfortunately persist in marrying for that first six +months." + +"Well, then, fortune pilots many a ship not steered. Suppose we leave +things to circumstances?" + +"No, no! Human affairs are for the most part arranged in such a way +that those turn out best to which most care is devoted." + +So the letters were thoughtfully written; the one to Aspatria being of +a paternal character, that to her brother polite and complimentary. To +his son Ulfar the old baronet made a very clever appeal. He reminded +him of his great age, and of the few opportunities left for showing +his affection and obedience. He regretted the necessity for a +residence in Italy during the winter, but trusted to his son's love to +see him through the experience. He congratulated Ulfar on winning the +love of a young girl so fresh and unspoiled by the world, but kindly +insisted upon the wisdom of a little delay, and the great benefit this +delay would be to himself. + +It was altogether a very temperate, wise letter, appealing to the best +side of Ulfar's nature. Squire William read it also, and gave it his +most emphatic approval. He was in no hurry to lose his little sister. +She was but a child yet, and knew nothing of the world she was going +into; and "surely to goodness," he said, looking at the child, "she +will have a lot of things to look after, before she can think of +wedding." + +This last conjecture touched Aspatria on a very womanly point. Of +course there were all her "things" to get ready. She had never +possessed more than a few frocks at a time, and those of the simplest +character; but she was quite alive to the necessity of an elaborate +wardrobe, and she had also an instinctive sense of what would be +proper for her position. + +So the suggestions of Ulfar's father were accepted in their entirety, +and the old gentleman was put into a very good temper by the fact. And +what was a year? "It will pass like a dream," said Ulfar. "And I shall +write constantly to you, and you will write to me; and when we meet +again it will be to part no more." Oh, the poverty of words in such +straits as these! Men say the same things in the same extremities now +that have been said millions of times before them. And Aspatria felt +as if there ought to have been entirely new words, to express the joy +of their betrothal and the sorrow of their parting. + +The short delay of a last week together was perhaps a mistake. A very +young girl, to whom great joy and great sorrow are alike fresh +experiences, may afford a prolonged luxury of the emotions of +parting. Love, more worldly-wise, deprecates its demonstrativeness, +and would avert it altogether. The farewell walks, the sentimental +souvenirs, the pretty and petty devices of love's first dream, are +tiresome to more practised lovers; and Ulfar had often proved what +very cobwebs they were to bind a straying fancy. + +"Absence makes the heart grow fonder." Perhaps so, if the last memory +be an altogether charming one. It was, unfortunately, not so in +Aspatria's case. It should have been a closely personal farewell with +Ulfar alone; but Squire Anneys, in his hospitable ignorance, gave it a +public character. Several neighbouring squires and dames came to +breakfast. There was cup-drinking, and toasting, and speech-making; +and Ulfar's last glimpse of his betrothed was of her standing in the +wide porch, surrounded by a waving, jubilant crowd of strangers, whose +intermeddling in his joy he deeply resented. Anneys had invited them +in accord with the traditions of his house and order. Fenwick thought +it was a device to make stronger his engagement to Aspatria. + +"As if it needed such contrivances!" he muttered angrily. "When it +does, it is a broken thread, and no Anneys can knot it again." + +The weeks that followed were full of new interests to Aspatria. +Mistress Frostham, the wife of a near shepherd-lord, had been the +friend of Aspatria's mother; she was fairly conversant with the world +outside the fells and dales, and she took the girl under her care, +accompanied her to Whitehaven, and directed her in the purchase of all +considered necessary for the wife of Ulfar Fenwick. + +Then the deep snows shut in Seat-Ambar, and the great white hills +stood round about it like fortifications. But as often as it was +possible the Dalton postman fought his way up there, with his packet +of accumulated mail; for he knew that a warm welcome and a large +reward awaited him. In the main, the long same days went happily by. +William and Brune had a score of resources for the season; the +farm-servants worked in the barn; they were making and mending sacks +for the wheat, and caps for the sheeps' heads in fly-time, sharpening +scythes and tools, doing the indoor work of a great farm, and mostly +singing as they did it. + +As Aspatria sat in her room, surrounded by fine cambric and linen and +that exquisite English thread-lace now gone out of fashion, she could +hear their laughter and their song, and she unconsciously set her +stitches to its march and melody. The days were not long to her. So +many dozens of garments to make with her own slight fingers! She had +not a moment to waste, but the necessity was one of the sweetest +delight. The solitude and secrecy of her labour added to its charm. +She never took her sewing into the parlour. And yet she might have +done so: William and Brune had a delicacy of affection for her which +would have made them blind to her occupation and densely stupid as to +its design. + +So, although the days were mostly alike, they were not unhappily so; +and at intervals destiny sent her the surprises she loved. One morning +in the beginning of February, Aspatria felt that the postman ought to +come; her heart presaged him. The day was clear and warm,--so much so, +that the men working in the barn had all the windows open. They were +singing in rousing tones the famous North Country song to the +barley-mow, and drinking it through all its verses, out of the jolly +brown bowl, the nipperkin, the quarter-pint, the quart and the +pottle,--the gallon and the anker,--the hogshead and the pipe,--the +well, and the river, and the ocean,--and then rolling back the chorus, +from ocean to the jolly brown bowl. Suddenly, while a dozen men were +shouting in unison,-- + + "Here's a health to the barley mow!" + +the verse was broken by the cry of "Here comes Ringham the postman!" +Then Aspatria ran to the window and saw him climbing the fell. She did +not like to go downstairs until Will called her; but she could not sew +another stitch. And when at last the aching silence in her ears was +filled by Will's joyful "Come here, Aspatria! Here is such a parcel as +never was,--from foreign parts too!" she hardly knew how her feet +twinkled down the long corridor and stairs. + +The parcel was from Rome. Ulfar had sent it to his London banker, and +the banker had sent a special messenger to Dalton with it. Over the +fells at that season no one but Ringham could have found a safe way; +and Ringham was made so welcome that he was quite imperious. He +ordered himself a rasher of bacon, and a bowl of the famous barley +broth, and spread himself comfortably before the great hearth-place. +At the table stood Aspatria, William, and Brune. Aspatria was +nervously trying to undo the seals and cords that bound love's message +to her. Will finally took his pocket-knife and cut them. There was a +long letter, and a box containing exquisite ornaments of Roman +cameos,--precious onyx, made more precious by work of rare artistic +beauty, a comb for her dark hair, a necklace for her white throat, +bracelets for her slender wrists, a girdle of stones linked with gold +for her waist. Oh, how full of simple delight she was! She was too +happy to speak. Then Will discovered a smaller package. It was for +himself and Brune. Will's present was a cameo ring, on which were +engraved the Anneys and Fenwick arms. Brune had a scarf-pin, +representing a lovely Hebe. It was a great day at Seat-Ambar. Aspatria +could work no more; Will and Brune felt it impossible to finish the +game they had begun. + +There is a tide in everything: this was the spring-tide of Aspatria's +love. In its overflowing she was happy for many a day after her +brothers had begun to speculate and wonder why Ringham did not come. +Suddenly it struck her that the snow was gone, and the road open, and +that there was no letter. She began to worry, and Will quietly rode +over to Dalton, to ask if any letter was lying there. He came back +empty-handed, silent, and a little surly. The anniversary of their +meeting was at hand: surely Ulfar would remember it, so Aspatria +thought, and she watched from dawn to dark, but no token of +remembrance came. The flowers began to bloom, the birds to sing, the +May sunshine flooded the earth with glory, but fear and doubt and +dismay and daily disappointment made deepest, darkest winter in the +low, long room where Aspatria watched and waited. Her sewing had been +thrown aside. The half-finished garments, neatly folded, lay under a +cover she had no strength to remove. + +In June she wrote a pitiful little note to her lover. She said that he +ought to tell her, if he was tired of their engagement. She told Will +what she had said, and asked him to post the letter. He answered +angrily, "Don't you write a word to him, good or bad!" And he tore the +letter into twenty pieces before her eyes. + +"Oh, Will, I cannot bear it!" + +"Thou art a woman: bear what other women have tholed before thee." +Then he went angrily from her presence. Brune was thrumming on the +window-pane. She thought he looked sorry for her; she touched his arm +and said, "Brune, will you take a letter to Dalton post for me?" + +"For sure I will. Go thy ways and write it, and I'll be gone before +Will is back." + +It was an unfortunate letter, as letters written in a hurry always +are. Absolute silence would have piqued and worried Ulfar. He would +have fancied her ill, dying perhaps; and the uncertainty, vague and +portentous, would have prompted him to action, if only to satisfy his +own mind. Sometimes he feared that a girl so sensitive would fade away +in neglect; and he expected a letter from William Anneys saying so. +But a hurried, halting, not very correct epistle, whose whole tenour +was, "What is the matter? What have I done? Do you remember last year +at this time?" irritated him beyond reply. + +He was still in Italy when it reached him. Sir Thomas Fenwick was not +likely ever to return to England. He was slowly dying, and he had been +removed to a villa in the Italian hills. And Elizabeth Redware had a +friend with her, a young widow just come from Athens, who affected at +times its splendid picturesque national costume. She was a very +bright, handsome woman, whose fine education had been supplemented by +travel, society, and a rather unhappy matrimonial experience. She knew +how to pique and provoke, how to flirt to the very edge of danger and +then sheer off, how to manipulate men before the fire of passion, as +witches used to manipulate their waxen images before the blazing +coals. + +She had easily won Ulfar's confidence; she had even assisted in the +selection of the cameos; and she declared to Elizabeth that she would +not for a whole world interfere between Ulfar and his pretty innocent! +A natural woman was such a phenomenon! She was glad Ulfar was going to +marry a phenomenon. + +Elizabeth knew her better. She gave the couple opportunity, and +they needed nothing more. There were already between them a good +understanding, transparent secrets, little jokes, a confessed +confidence. They quickly became affectionate. The lovely Sarah, +relict of Herbert Sandys, Esq., not only reminded Ulfar of his +vows to Aspatria, but in the very reminder she tempted him to break +them. When Aspatria's letter was put into his hand, she was with +him, marvellously arrayed in tissue of silver and brilliant colours. A +head-dress of gold coins glittered in her fair braided hair; her +long white arms were shining with bracelets; she was at once languid +and impulsive, provoking Elizabeth and Ulfar to conversation, and +then amazing them by the audacity and contradiction of her opinions. + +"It is so fortunate," she said, "that Ulfar has found a little +out-of-the-way girl to appreciate his great beauty. The world at +present does not think much of masculine beauty. A handsome fellow who +starts for any of its prizes is judged to be frivolous and poetical, +perhaps immoral: you see Byron's beauty made him unfit for a +legislator, he could do nothing but write poetry. I should say it was +Ulfar's best card to marry this innocent with the queer name: with his +face and figure, he will never get into Parliament. No one would trust +him with taxes. He is born to make love, and he and his country +Phyllis can go simpering and kissing through life together. If I were +interested in Ulfar----" + +"You are interested in Ulfar, Sarah," interrupted Elizabeth. "You said +so to me last night." + +"Did I? Nevertheless, life does not give us time really to question +ourselves, and it is the infirmity of my nature to mistake feeling for +evidence." + +"You must not change your opinions so quickly, Sarah." + +"It is often an element of success to change your opinions. It is +hesitating among a variety of views that is fatal. The man who does +not know what he wants is the man who is held cheap." + +"I am sure I know what I want, Sarah." And as he spoke, Ulfar looked +with intelligence at the fair widow, and in answer she shot from her +bright blue eyes a bolt of summer lightning that set aflame at once +the emotional side of Ulfar's nature. + +"You say strange things, Sarah. I wish it was possible to understand +you." + +"'Who shall read the interpretation thereof?' is written on everything +we see, especially on women." + +"I believe," said Elizabeth, "that Ulfar has quarrelled with his +country maid. Is there a quarrel, Ulfar, really?" + +"No," he answered, with some temper. + +Sarah nodded at Ulfar, and said softly: "The absent must be satisfied +with the second place. However, if you have quarrelled with her, +Ulfar, turn over a new leaf. I found that out when poor Sandys was +alive. People who have to live together must blot a leaf now and then +with their little tempers. The only thing is to turn over a new one." + +"If anything unpleasant happens to me," said Ulfar, "I try to bury +it." + +"You cannot do it. The past is a ghost not to be laid; and a past +which is buried alive, it is terrible." It was Sarah who spoke, and +with a sombre earnestness not in keeping with her usual character. +There was a minute's pregnant silence, and it was broken by the +entrance of a servant with a letter. He gave it to Ulfar. + +It was Aspatria's sorrowful, questioning note. Written while Brune +waited, it was badly written, incorrectly constructed and spelled, and +generally untidy. It had the same effect upon Ulfar that a badly +dressed, untidy woman would have had. He was ashamed of the +irregular, childish scrawl. He did not take the trouble to put himself +in the atmosphere in which the anxious, sorrowful words had been +written. He crushed the paper in his hand with much the same +contemptuous temper with which Elizabeth had seen him treat a dunning +letter. She knew, however, that this letter was from Aspatria, and, +saying something about her father, she went into an adjoining room, +and left Ulfar and Sarah together. She thought Sarah would be the +proper alterative. + +The first words Sir Thomas Fenwick uttered regarded Aspatria. Turning +his head feebly, he asked: "Has Ulfar quarrelled with Miss Anneys? I +hear nothing of her lately." + +"I think he is tired of his fancy for her. There is no quarrel." + +"She was a good girl,--eh? Kindhearted, beautiful,--eh, Elizabeth?" + +"She certainly was." + +He said no more then; but at midnight, when Ulfar was sitting beside +him, he called his son, and spoke to him on the subject. "I am +going--almost gone--the way of all flesh, Ulfar. Take heed of my last +words. You promised to make Miss Anneys your wife,--eh?" + +"I did, father." + +"Do not break your promise. If she gives it back to you, that might be +well; but you cannot escape from your own word and deed. Honour keeps +the door of the house of life. To break your word is to set the door +wide open,--open for sorrow and evil of all kinds. Take care, Ulfar." + +The next day he died, and one of Ulfar's first thoughts was that the +death set him free from his promise for one year at the least. A year +contained a multitude of chances. He could afford to write to +Aspatria under such circumstances. So he answered her letter at +once, and it seemed proper to be affectionate, preparatory to +reminding her that their marriage was impossible until the mourning +for Sir Thomas was over. Also death had softened his heart, and +his father's last words had made him indeterminate and a little +superstitious. A clever woman of the world would not have believed +in this letter; its _aura_--subtle but persistent, as the perfume of +the paper--would have made her doubt its fondest lines. But Aspatria +had no idea other than that certain words represented absolutely +certain feelings. + +The letter made her joyful. It brought back the roses to her cheeks, +the spring of motion to her steps. She began to work in her room once +more. Now and then her brothers heard her singing the old song she had +sung so constantly with Ulfar,-- + + "A shepherd in a shade his plaining made, + Of love, and lovers' wrong, + Unto the fairest lass that trod on grass, + And thus began his song: + 'Restore, restore my heart again, + Which thy sweet looks have slain, + Lest that, enforced by your disdain, I sing, + Fye! fye on love! It is a foolish thing! + + "'Since love and fortune will, I honour still + Your dark and shining eye; + What conquest will it be, sweet nymph, to thee, + If I for sorrow die? + Restore, restore my heart again, + Which thy sweet looks have slain, + Lest that, enforced by your disdain, I sing, + Fye! fye on love! It is a foolish thing!'" + +But the lifting of the sorrow was only that it might press more +heavily. No more letters came; no message of any kind; none of the +pretty love-gages he delighted in giving during the first months of +their acquaintance. A gloom more wretched than that of death or +sickness settled in the old rooms of Seat-Ambar. William and Brune +carried its shadow on their broad, rosy faces into the hay-fields and +the wheat-fields. It darkened all the summer days, and dulled all the +usual mirth-making of the ingathering feasts. William was cross and +taciturn. He loved his sister with all his heart, but he did not know +how to sympathize with her. Even mother-love, when in great anxiety, +sometimes wraps itself in this unreasonable irritability. Brune +understood better. He had suffered from a love-change himself; he +knew its ache and longing, its black despairs and still more cruel +hopes. He was always on the lookout for Aspatria; and one day he heard +news which he thought would interest her. Lady Redware was at the +Hall. William had heard it a week before, but he had not considered it +prudent to name the fact. Brune had a kinder intelligence. + +"Aspatria," he said, "Redware Hall is open again. I saw Lady Redware +in the village." + +"Brune! Oh, Brune, is he there too?" + +"No, he isn't. I made sure of that." + +"Brune, I want to go to Redware. Perhaps his sister may tell me the +truth. Go with me. Oh, Brune, go with me! I am dying of suspense and +uncertainty." + +"Ay, they're fit to kill anybody, let alone a little lass like you. It +will put William about, and it may make bad bread between us; but I'll +go with you, even if we do have a falling out. I'm not flayed for +William's rages." + +The next market-day Brune kept his word. As soon as Squire Anneys had +climbed the fell breast and passed over the brow of the hill, Brune +was at the door with horses for Aspatria and himself. She was a good +rider, and they made the distance, in spite of hills and hollows, in +two hours. Lady Redware was troubled at the visit, but she came to the +door to welcome Aspatria, and she asked Brune with particular warmth +to come into the house with his sister. Brune knew better; he was sure +in such a case that it would prove a mere formal call, and that +Aspatria would never have the courage to ask the questions she wished +to. + +But Aspatria had come to that point of mental suffering when she +wanted to know the truth, even though the truth was the worst. Lady +Redware saw the determination on her face, and resolved to gratify it. +She was shocked at the change in Aspatria's appearance. Her beauty +was, in a measure, gone. Her eyes were hollow, and the lids dark and +swollen with weeping. Her figure was more angular. The dew of youth, +the joy of youth, was over. She drooped like a fading flower. If Ulfar +saw her in such condition he might pity, but assuredly he would not +admire her. + +Lady Redware kissed the poor girl. "Come in, my dear," she said +kindly. "How ill you look! Here is wine: take a drink." + +"I am ill. I even hope I am dying. Life is so hard to bear. Ulfar has +forgotten me. I have vexed him, and cannot find out in what way. If +you would only tell me!" + +"You have not vexed him at all." + +"What then?" + +"He is tired, or he has seen a fresher face. That is Ulfar's great +fault. He loves too well, because he does not love very long. Can you +not forget him?" + +"No." + +"You must have other lovers?" + +"No. I never had a lover until Ulfar wooed me. I will have none after +him. I shall love him until I die." + +"What folly!" + +"Perhaps. I am only a foolish child. If I had been wise and clever, he +would not have left me. It is my fault. Do you believe he will ever +come to Seat-Ambar again?" + +"I do not think he will. It is best to tell you the truth. My dear, I +am truly sorry for you! Indeed I am, Aspatria!" + +The girl had covered her face with her thin white hands. Her attitude +was so hopeless that it brought the tears to Lady Redware's eyes. +Hoping to divert her attention, she said,-- + +"Who called you Aspatria?" + +"It was my mother's name. She was born in Aspatria, and she loved the +place very much." + +"Where is it, child? I never heard of it." + +"Not far away, on the sea-coast,--a little town that brother Will says +has been asleep for centuries. Such a pretty place, straggling up the +hillside, and looking over the sea. Mother was born there, and she is +buried there, in the churchyard. It is such an old church, one +thousand years old! Mother said it was built by Saint Kentigern. I +went there to pray last week, by mother's grave. I thought she might +hear me, and help me to bear the suffering." + +"You poor child! It is shameful of Ulfar!" + +"He is not to blame. Will told me that it was a poor woman who +couldn't keep what she had won." + +"It was very brutal in Will to say such a thing." + +"He did not mean it unkindly. We are plain-spoken people, Lady +Redware. Tell me, as plainly as Will would tell me, if there is any +hope for me. Does Ulfar love me at all now?" + +"I fear not." + +"Are you sure?" + +"I am sure." + +"Thank you. Now I will go." She put out her hands before her, as if +she was blind and had to feel her way; and in answer to all Lady +Redware's entreaties to remain, to rest, to eat something, she only +shook her head, and stumbled forward. Brune saw her coming. He was +standing by the horses, but he left them, and went to meet his sister. +Her misery was so visible that he put her in the saddle with fear. But +she gathered the reins silently, and motioned him to proceed; and +Aspatria's last sad smile haunted Lady Redware for many a day. Long +afterward she recalled it with a sharp gasp of pity and annoyance. It +was such a proud, sorrowful farewell. + +She reached home, but it took the last remnant of her strength. She +was carried to her bed, and she remained there many weeks. The hills +were white with snow, and the winter winds were sounding among them +like the chant of a high mass, when she came down once more to the +parlor. Even then Will carried her like a baby in his arms. He had +carried her mother in the same way, when she began to die; and his +heart trembled and smote him. He was very tender with his little +sister, but tempests of rage tossed him to and fro when he thought of +Ulfar Fenwick. + +And he was compelled lately to think of him very often. All over the +fell-side, all through Allerdale, it had begun to be whispered, +"Aspatria Anneys has been deserted by her lover." How the fact had +become known it was difficult to discover: it was as if it had flown +from roof to roof with the sparrows. Will could see it in the faces of +his neighbours, could hear it in the tones of their speech, could feel +it in the clasp of their hands. And he thought of these things, until +he could not eat a meal or sleep an hour in peace. His heart was on +fire with suppressed rage. He told Brune that all he wanted was to lay +Fenwick across his knees and break his neck. And then he spread out +his mighty hands, and clasped and unclasped them with a silent force +that had terrible anticipation in it. And he noticed that after her +illness his sister no longer wore the circlet of diamonds which had +been her betrothal-ring. She had evidently lost all hope. Then it was +time for him to interfere. + +Aspatria feared it when he came to her room one morning and kissed her +and bade her good-by. He said he was going a bit off, and might be a +week away,--happen more. But she did not dare to question him. Will at +times had masterful ways, which no one dared to question. + +Brune knew where his brother was going. The night before he had taken +Brune to the little room which was called the Squire's room. In it +there was a large oak chest, black with age and heavy with iron bars. +It contained the title-deeds, and many other valuable papers. Will +explained these and the other business of the farm to Brune; and Brune +did not need to ask him why. He was well aware what business William +Anneys was bent on, before Will said,--"I am going to Fenwick Castle, +Brune. I am going to make that measureless villain marry Aspatria." + +"Is it worth while, Will?" + +"It is worth while. He shall keep his promise. If he does not, I will +kill him, or he must kill me." + +"If he kills you, Will, he must then fight me." And Brune's face grew +red and hot, and his eyes flashed angry fire. + +"That is as it should be; only keep your anger at interest until you +have lads to take your place. We mustn't leave Ambar-Side without an +Anneys to heir it. I fancy your wrath won't get cold while it is +waiting." + +"It will get hotter and hotter." + +"And whatever happens, don't you be saving of kind words to Aspatria. +The little lass has suffered more than a bit; and she is that like +mother! I couldn't bide, even if I was in my grave, to think of her +wanting kindness." + +The next morning Will went away. Brune would not talk to Aspatria +about the journey. This course was a mistake; it would have done her +good to talk continually of it. As it was, she was left to chew over +and over the cud of her mournful anticipations. She had no womanly +friend near her. Mrs. Frostham had drawn back a little when people +began to talk of "poor Miss Anneys." She had daughters, and she did +not feel that her friendship for the dead included the living, when +the living were unfortunate and had questionable things said about +them. + +And the last bitter drop in Aspatria's cup full of sorrow was the +hardness of her heart toward Heaven. She could not care about God; she +thought God did not care for her. She had tried to make herself pray, +even by going to her mother's grave, but she felt no spark of that +hidden fire which is the only acceptable prayer. There was a Christ +cut out of ivory, nailed to a large ebony cross, in her room. It had +been taken from the grave of an old abbot in Aspatria Church, and had +been in her mother's family three hundred years. It was a Christ that +had been in the grave and had come back to earth. Her mother's eyes +had closed forever while fixed upon it, and to Aspatria it had always +been an object of supreme reverence and love. She was shocked to find +herself unmoved by its white pathos. Even at her best hours she could +only stand with clasped hands and streaming eyes before it, and with +sad imploration cry,-- + +"I cannot pray! I cannot pray! Forgive me, Christ!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +ONLY BROTHER WILL. + + +It was a dull raw day in late autumn, especially dull and raw near the +sea, where there was an evil-looking sky to the eastward. Ulfar +Fenwick stood at a window in Castle Fenwick which commanded the black, +white-frilled surges. He was watching anxiously the point at which the +pale gray wall of fog was thickest, a wall of inconceivable height, +resting on the sea, reaching to the clouds, when suddenly there +emerged from it a beautifully built schooner-yacht. She cut her way +through the mysterious barrier as if she had been a knife, and came +forward with short, stubborn plunges. + +All over the North Sea there are desolate places full of the cries of +parting souls, but nowhere more desolate spaces than around Fenwick +Castle; and as the winter was approaching, Ulfar was anxious to escape +its loneliness. His yacht had been taking in supplies; she was making +for the pier at the foot of Fenwick Cliff, and he was dressed for the +voyage and about to start upon it. He was going to the Mediterranean, +to Civita Vecchia, and his purpose was the filial one of bringing home +the remains of the late baronet. He had promised faithfully to see +them laid with those of his fore-elders on the windy Northumberland +coast; and he felt that this duty must be done, ere he could +comfortably travel the westward route he had so long desired. + +He was slowly buttoning his pilot-coat, when he heard a heavy step +upon the flagged passage. Many such steps had been up and down it +that hour, but none with the same fateful sound. He turned his face +anxiously to the door, and as he did so, it was flung open, as if by +an angry man, and William Anneys walked in, frowning and handling his +big walking-stick with a subdued passion that filled the room as if it +had been suddenly charged with electricity. The two men looked +steadily at each other, neither of them flinching, neither of them +betraying by the movement of an eyelash the emotion that sent the +blood to their faces and the wrath to their eyes. + +"William Anneys! What do you want?" + +"I want you to set your wedding-day. It must not be later than the +fifteenth of this month." + +"Suppose I refuse to do so? I am going to Italy for my father's +body." + +"You shall not leave England until you marry my sister." + +"Suppose I refuse to do so?" + +"Then you will have to take your chances of life or death. You will +give me satisfaction first; and if you escape the fate you well +deserve, Brune may have better fortune." + +"Duelling is now murder, sir, unless we pass over to France." + +"I will not go to France. Wrestling is not murder, and we both know +there is a 'throw' to kill; and I will 'throw' until I do kill,--or am +killed. There's Brune after me." + +"I have ceased to love your sister. I dare say she has forgotten me. +Why do you insist on our marriage? Is it that she may be Lady +Fenwick?" + +"Look you, sir! I care nothing for lordships or ladyships; such things +are matterless to me. But your desertion has set wicked suspicions +loose about Miss Anneys; and the woman they dare to think her, you +shall make your wife. By God in heaven, I swear it!" + +"They have said wrong of Miss Anneys! Impossible!" + +"No, sir! they have not said wrong. If any man in Allerdale had dared +to say wrong, I had torn his tongue from his mouth before I came here; +and as for the women, they know well I would hold their husbands or +brothers or sons responsible for every ill word they spoke. But they +think wrong, and they make me feel it everywhere. They look it, they +shy off from Aspatria,--oh, you know well enough the kind of thing +going on." + +"A wrong thought of Miss Anneys is atrocious. The angels are not more +pure." He said the words softly, as if to himself; and William Anneys +stood watching him with an impatience that in a moment or two found +vent in an emphatic stamp with his foot. + +"I have no time to waste, sir. Are you afraid to sup the ill broth you +have brewed?" + +"Afraid!" + +"I see you have no mind to marry. Well, then, we will fight! I like +that better." + +"I will fight both you and your brother, make any engagement you +wish; but if the fair name of Miss Anneys is in danger, I have a prior +engagement to marry her. I will keep it first. Afterward I am at your +service, Squire, yours and your brother's; for I tell you plainly that +I shall leave my wife at the church door and never see her again." + +"I care not how soon you leave her; the sooner the better. Will the +eleventh of this month suit you?" + +"Make it the fifteenth. To what church will you bring my fair bride?" + +"Keep your scoffing for a fitter time. If you look in that way again, +I will strike the smile off your lips with a hand that will leave you +little smiling in the future." And he passed his walking-stick to his +left, and doubled his large right hand with an ominous readiness. + +"We may even quarrel like gentlemen, Mr. Anneys." + +"Then don't you laugh like a blackguard, that's all." + +"Answer me civilly. At what church shall I meet Miss Anneys, and at +what hour on the fifteenth?" + +"At Aspatria Church, at eleven o'clock." + +"Aspatria?" + +"Ay, to be sure! There will be witnesses there, I can tell +you,--generations of them, centuries of generations. They will see +that you do the right thing, or they will dog your steps till you have +paid the uttermost farthing of the wrong. Mind what you do, then!" + +"The dead frighten me no more than the living do." + +"You will find out, maybe, what the vengeance of the dead is. I would +be willing to leave you to it, if you shab off, and I am not sure but +you will." + +"William Anneys, you are sure I will not. You are saying such things +to provoke me to a fight." + +"What reason have I to be sure? All the vows you made to Aspatria you +have counted as a fool's babble." + +"I give you my word of honour. Between gentlemen that is enough." + +"To be sure, to be sure! Gentlemen can make it enough. But a poor +little lass, what can she do but pine herself into a grave?" + +"I will listen to you no longer, Squire Anneys. If your sister's good +name is at stake, it is my first duty to shield it with my own name. +If that does not satisfy your sense of honour, I will give you and +your brother whatever satisfaction you desire. On the fifteenth of +this month, at eleven o'clock, I will meet you at Aspatria Church. +Where shall I find the place?" + +"It is not far from Gosforth and Dalton, on the coast. You cannot miss +it, unless you never look for it." + +"Sir!" + +"Unless you never look for it. I do not feel to trust you. But this is +a promise made to a man, made to William Anneys; and he will see that +you keep it, or else that you pay for the breaking of it." + +"Good-morning, Squire. There is no necessity to prolong such an +unpleasant visit." + +"Nay, I will not 'good-morning' with you. I have not a good wish of +any kind for you." + +With these defiant words he left the castle, and Fenwick threw off his +pilot-coat and sat down to consider. First thoughts generally come +from the selfish, and therefore the worst, side of any nature; and +Fenwick's first thoughts were that his yacht was ready to sail, and +that he could go away, and stay away until Aspatria married, or some +other favourable change took place. He cared little for England. With +good management he could bring home and bury his father's dust without +the knowledge of William Anneys. Then there was the west! America was +before him, north and south. He had always promised himself to see +the whole western continent ere he settled for life in England. + +Such thoughts were naturally foremost, but he did not encourage them. +He felt no lingering sentiment of pity or love for Aspatria, but he +realized very clearly what suspicion, what the slant eye, the +whispered word, the scornful glance, the doubtful shrug, meant in +those primitive valleys. And he had loved the girl dearly; he had +promised to marry her. If she wished him to keep his promise, if it +was a necessity to her honour, then he would redeem with his own +honour his foolish words. He told himself constantly that he had not a +particle of fear, that he despised Will and Brune Anneys and their +brutal vows of vengeance; but--but perhaps they did unconsciously +influence him. Life was sweet to Ulfar Fenwick, full of new dreams and +hopes set in all kinds of new surroundings. For Aspatria Anneys why +should he die? It was better to marry her. The girl had been sweet to +him, very sweet! After all, he was not sure but he preferred that she +should be so bound to him as to prevent her marrying any other man. He +still liked her well enough to feel pleasure in the thought that he +had put her out of the reach of any future lover she might have. + +Squire Anneys rode home in what Brune called "a pretty temper for any +man." His horse was at the last point of endurance when he reached +Seat-Ambar, he himself wet and muddy, "cross and unreasonable beyond +everything." Aspatria feared the very sound of his voice. She fled to +her room and bolted the door. At that hour she felt as if death would +be the best thing for her; she had brought only sorrow and trouble and +apprehended disgrace to all who loved her. + +"I think God has forgotten me too!" she cried, glancing with eyes full +of anguish to the pale Crucified One hanging alone and forsaken in the +darkest corner of the room. Only the white figure was visible; the +cross had become a part of the shadows. She remembered the joyous, +innocent prayers that had been wont to make peace in her heart and +music on her lips; and she looked with a sorrow that was almost +reproach at her Book of Common Prayer, lying dusty and neglected on +its velvet cushion. In her rebellious, hopeless grief, she had missed +all its wells of comfort. Oh, if an angel would only open her eyes! +One had come to Hagar in the desert: Aspatria was almost in equal +despair. + +Yet when she heard her brother Will's voice she knew not of any other +sanctuary than the little table which held her Bible and Prayer Book, +and upon which the wan, sad ivory Christ looked down. In speechless +misery, with clasped hands and low-bowed head, she knelt there. Will's +voice, strenuous and stern, reached her at intervals. She knew from +the silence in the kitchen and farm-offices, and the hasty movements +of the servants, that Will was cross; and she greatly feared her +eldest brother when he was in what Brune called one of his rages. + +A long lull was followed by a sharp call. It was Will calling her +name. She felt it impossible to answer, impossible to move; and as he +ascended the stairs and came grumbling along the corridor, she +crouched lower and lower. He was at her door, his hand on the latch; +then a few piteous words broke from her lips: "Help, Christ, Saviour +of the world!" + +Instantly, like a flash of lightning, came the answer, "It is I. Be +not afraid." She said the words herself, gave to her heart the promise +and the comfort of it, and, so saying them, she drew back the bolt and +stood facing her brother. He had a candle in his hand, and it showed +her his red, angry face, and showed him the pale, resolute countenance +of a woman who had prayed and been comforted. + +He walked into the room and put the candle down on a small table in +its centre. They both stood a moment by it; then Aspatria lifted her +face to her brother and kissed him. He was taken aback and softened, +and troubled at his heart. Her suffering was so evident; she was such +a gray shadow of her former self. + +"Aspatria! Aspatria! my little lass!" Then he stopped and looked at +her again. + +"What is it, Will? Dear Will, what is it?" + +"You must be married on the fifteenth. Get something ready. I will see +Mrs. Frostham and ask her to help you a bit." + +"Whom am I to marry, Will? On the fifteenth? It is impossible! See how +ill I am!" + +"You are to marry Ulfar Fenwick. Ill? Of course you are ill; but you +must go to Aspatria Church on the fifteenth. Ulfar Fenwick will meet +you there. He will make you his wife." + +"You have forced him to marry me. I will not go, I will not go. I will +not marry Ulfar Fenwick." + +"You shall go, if I carry you in my arms! You shall marry him, or +I--will--kill--you!" + +"Then kill me! Death does not terrify me. Nothing can be more cruel +hard than the life I have lived for a long time." + +He looked at her steadily, and she returned the gaze. His face was +like a flame; hers was white as snow. + +"There are things in life worse than death, Aspatria. There is +dishonour, disgrace, shame." + +"Is sorrow dishonour? Is it a disgrace to love? Is it a shame to weep +when love is dead?" + +"Ay, my little lass, it may be a great wrong to love and to weep. +There is a shadow around you, Aspatria; if people speak of you they +drop their voices and shake their heads; they wonder, and they think +evil. Your good name is being smiled and shaken away, and I cannot +find any one, man or woman, to thrash for it." + +She stood listening to him with wide-open eyes, and lips dropping a +little apart, every particle of colour fled from them. + +"It is for this reason Fenwick is to marry you." + +"You forced him; I know you forced him." She seemed to drag the words +from her mouth; they almost shivered; they broke in two as they fell +halting on the ear. + +"Well, I must say he did not need forcing, when he heard your good +name was in danger. He said, manly enough, that he would make it good +with his own name. I do not much think I could have either frightened +or flogged him into marrying you." + +"Oh, Will! I cannot marry him in this way! Let people say wicked +things of me, if they will." + +"Nay, I will not! I cannot help them thinking evil; but they shall not +look it, and they shall not say it." + +"Perhaps they do not even think it, Will. How can you tell?" + +"Well enough, Aspatria. How many women come to Ambar-Side now? If you +gave a dance next week, you could not get a girl in Allerdale to +accept your invitation." + +"Will!" + +"It is the truth. You must stop all this by marrying Ulfar Fenwick. He +saw it was only just and right: I will say that much for him." + +"Let me alone until morning. I will do what you say.--Oh, mother! +mother I want mother now!" + +"My poor little lass! I am only brother Will; but I am sorry for thee, +I am that!" + +She tottered to the bedside, and he lifted her gently, and laid her on +it; and then, as softly as if he was afraid of waking her, he went out +of the room. Outside the door he found Brune. He had taken off his +shoes, and was in his stocking-feet. Will grasped him by the shoulder +and led him to his own chamber. + +"What were you watching me for? What were you listening to me for? I +have a mind to hit you, Brune." + +"You had better not hit me, Will. I was not bothering myself about +you. I was watching Aspatria. I was listening, because I knew the +madman in you had got loose, and I was feared for my sister. I was not +going to let you say or do things you would be sorry to death for when +you came to yourself. And so you are going to let that villain marry +Aspatria? You are not of my mind, Will. I would not let him put a foot +into our decent family, or have a claim of any kind on our sister." + +"I have done what I thought best." + +"I don't say it is best." + +"And I don't ask for your opinion. Go to your own room, Brune, and +mind your own affairs." + +And Brune, brought up in the religious belief of the natural supremacy +of the elder brother, went off without another word, but with a heart +full to overflowing of turbulent, angry thoughts. + +In the morning Will went to see Mrs. Frostham. He told her of his +interview with Ulfar Fenwick, and begged her to help Aspatria with +such preparations as could be made. But neither to her nor yet to +Aspatria did he speak of Fenwick's avowed intention to leave his wife +after the ceremony. In the first place, he did not believe that +Fenwick would dare to give him such a cowardly insult; and then, also, +he thought that the sight of Aspatria's suffering would make him +tender toward her. William Anneys's simple, kindly soul did not +understand that of all things the painful results of our sins are the +most irritating. The hatred we ought to give to the sin or to the +sinner, we give to the results. + +Surely it was the saddest preparation for a wedding that could be. +Will and Brune were "out." They did not speak to each other, except +about the farm business. Aspatria spent most of her time in her +own room with a sempstress, who was making the long-delayed +wedding-dress. The silk for it had been bought more than a year, and +it had lost some of its lustrous colour. Mrs. Frostham paid a short +visit every day, and occasionally Alice Frostham came with her. She +was a very pretty girl, gentle and affectionate to Aspatria; and +just because of her kindness Will determined at some time to make +her Mistress of Seat-Ambar. + +But in the house there was a great depression, a depression that no +one could avoid feeling. Will gave no orders for wedding-festivities; +a great dinner and ball would have been a necessity under the usual +circumstances, but there were no arrangements even for a breakfast. +Aspatria wondered at the omission, but she did not dare to question +Will; indeed. Will appeared to avoid her as much as he could. + +Really, William Anneys was very anxious and miserable. He had no +dependence upon Fenwick's promise, and he felt that if Fenwick +deceived him there was nothing possible but the last vengeance. He +had this thought constantly in his mind; and he was quietly ordering +things on the farm for a long absence, and for Brune's management or +succession. He paid several visits to Whitehaven, where was his +banker, and to Gosport, where his lawyer lived. He felt, during that +terrible interval of suspense, very much as a man under sentence of +death might feel. + +The morning of the fifteenth broke chill and dark, with a promise of +rain. Great Gable was carrying on a conflict with an army of gray +clouds assailing his summit and boding no good for the weather. The +fog rolled and eddied from side to side of the mountains, which +projected their black forms against a ghastly, neutral tint behind +them; and the air was full of that melancholy stillness which so often +pervades the last days of autumn. + +Squire Anneys had slept little for two weeks, and he had been awake +all the night before. While yet very early, he had every one in the +house called. Still there were no preparations for company or +feasting. Brune came down grumbling at a breakfast by candle-light, +and he and William drank their coffee and made a show of eating almost +in silence. But there was an unspeakable tenderness in William's +heart, if he had known how to express it. He looked at Brune with a +new speculation in his eyes. Brune might soon be master of Ambar-Side: +what kind of a master would he make? Would he be loving to Aspatria? +When Brune had sons to inherit the land, would he remember his +promise, and avenge the insult to the Anneys, if he, William, should +give his life in vain? Out of these questions many others arose; but +he was naturally a man of few words, and not able to talk himself into +a conviction that he was doing right; nor yet was he able to give +utterance to the vague objections which, if defined by words, might +perhaps have changed his feelings and his plans. + +He had sent Aspatria word that she must be ready by ten o'clock. At +eight she began to dress. Her sleep had been broken and miserable. She +looked anxiously in the glass at her face. It was as white as the silk +robe she was to wear. A feeling of dislike of the unhappy garment rose +in her heart. She had bought the silk in the very noon of her love and +hopes, a shining piece of that pearl-like tint which only the most +brilliant freshness and youth can becomingly wear. Many little +accessories were wanting. She tried the Roman cameos with it, and they +looked heavy; she knew in her womanly heart that it needed the lustre +of gems, the sparkle of diamonds or rubies. + +Mrs. Frostham came a little later, and assisted her in her toilet; but +a passing thought of the four bridemaids she had once chosen for this +office made her eyes dim, while the stillness of the house, the utter +neglect of all symbols of rejoicing, gave an ominous and sorrowful +atmosphere to the bride-robing. Still, Aspatria looked very handsome; +for as the melancholy toilet offices proceeded with so little interest +and so little sympathy, a sense of resentment had gradually gathered +in the poor girl's heart. It made her carry herself proudly, it +brought a flush to her cheeks, and a flashing, trembling light to her +eyes which Mrs. Frostham could not comfortably meet. + +A few minutes before ten, she threw over all her fateful finery a +large white cloak, which added a decided grace and dignity to her +appearance. It was a garment Ulfar had sent her from London,--a long, +mantle-like wrap, made of white cashmere, and lined with quilted +white satin. Long cords and tassels of chenille fastened it at the +throat, and the hood was trimmed with soft white fur. She drew the +hood over her head, she felt glad to hide the wreath of orange-buds +and roses which Mrs. Frostham had insisted upon her wearing,--the sign +and symbol of her maidenhood. + +Will looked at her with stern lips, but as he wrapped up her +satin-sandalled feet in the carriage, he said softly to her, "God +bless you, Aspatria!" His voice trembled, but not more than Aspatria's +as she answered,-- + +"Thank you, Will. You and Brune are father and mother to me to-day. +There is no one else." + +"Never mind, my little lass. We are enough." + +She was alone in the carriage. Will and Brune rode on either side of +her. The Frosthams, the Dawsons, the Bellendens, the Atkinsons, and +the Lutons followed. Will had invited every one to the church, and +curiosity brought those who were not moved by sympathy or regard. +Fortunately the rain held off, though the air was damp and exceedingly +depressing. + +When they arrived at Aspatria Church, they found the yard full; every +gravestone was occupied by a little party of gossips. At the gate +there was a handsome travelling-chariot with four horses. It lifted a +great weight of apprehension from William Anneys, for it told him that +Fenwick had kept his word. He helped Aspatria to alight, and his heart +ached for her. How would she be able to walk between that crowd of +gazing, curious men and women? He held her arm tight against his big +heart, and Brune, carefully watching her, followed close behind. + +But Aspatria's inner self had taken possession of the outer woman. She +walked firmly and proudly, with an erect grace, without hesitation and +without hurry, toward her fate. Something within her kept saying words +of love and encouragement; she knew not what they were, only they +strengthened her like wine. She passed the church door whispering the +promise given her,--"It is I. Be not afraid." And then her eyes fell +upon the ancient stone font, at which her father and mother had named +her. She put out her hand and just touched its holy chalice. + +The church was crowded with a curious and not unsympathetic +congregation. Aspatria Anneys was their own, a dales-woman by a +thousand years of birthright. Fenwick was a stranger. If he were going +to do her any wrong, and Will Anneys was ready to punish him for it, +every man and woman present would have stood shoulder to shoulder with +Will. There was an undefined expectation of something unusual, of +something more than a wedding. This feeling, though unexpressed, made +itself felt in a very pronounced way. Will and Brune looked +confidingly around; Aspatria gathered courage with every step. She +felt that she was among her own people, living and dead. + +As soon as they really entered the church, they saw Fenwick. He was +with an officer wearing the uniform of the Household Troops; and +he was evidently pointing out to him the ancient tombs of the +Ambar-Anneys family, the Crusaders in stone, with sheathed swords +and hands folded in prayer, and those of the family abbots, adorned +with richly floriated crosses. + +When he saw Aspatria he bowed, and advanced rapidly to the altar. She +had loosened her cloak and flung back her hood, and she watched his +approach with eyes that seemed two separate souls of love and sorrow. +One glance from them troubled him to the seat of life. He motioned to +the waiting clergyman, and took his place beside his bride. There was +a dead stillness in the church, and a dead stillness outside; the +neighing of a horse sounded sharp, imperative, fateful. A ripple of a +smile followed; it was a lucky omen to hear a horse neigh. Brune +glanced at his sister, but she had not heeded it. Her whole being was +swallowed up in the fact that she was standing at Ulfar's side, that +she was going to be his wife. + +The aged clergyman was fumbling with the Prayer Book: "The Form of +Solemnization of Matrimony" seemed hard to find. And so vagrant is +thought, that while he turned the leaves Aspatria remembered the +travelling-chariot, and wondered whether Ulfar meant to carry her away +in it, and what she would do for proper clothing. Will ought to have +told her something of the future. How cruel every one had been! It +took but a moment for these and many other thoughts to invade +Aspatria's heart, and spread dismay and anxiety and again the sense of +resentment. + +Then she heard the clergyman begin. His voice was like that of some +one speaking in a dream, till she sharply called herself together, +hearing also Ulfar's voice, and knowing that she too would be called +upon for her assent. She glanced up at Ulfar, who was dressed with +great care and splendour and looking very handsome, and said her "I +will" with the glance. Ulfar could not receive it unmoved; he looked +steadily at her, and then he saw the ruin of youth that his +faithlessness had made. Remorse bit him like a serpent, but remorse is +not repentance. Then William Anneys gave his sister to his enemy; and +the gift was like death to him, and the look accompanying the gift +filled Ulfar's heart with a contemptuous anger fatal to all juster or +kinder feelings. + +When the service was ended, Fenwick turned to Aspatria and offered her +his hand. She put hers into his, and so he led her down the aisle, +and through the churchyard, to her own carriage. William had followed +close. He wondered if Fenwick meant to take his wife with him, and he +resolved to give him the opportunity to do so. But as soon as he +perceived that the bridegroom would carry out his threat, and desert +his bride at the church gates, he stepped forward and said,-- + +"That is enough, Sir Ulfar Fenwick. I have made you keep your word. I +will care for your wife. She shall neither bear your name nor yet take +anything from your bounty." + +Fenwick paid no heed to his brother-in-law. He looked at Aspatria. She +was whiter than snow; she had the pallor of death. He lifted his hat +and said,-- + +"Farewell, Lady Fenwick. We shall meet no more." + +"Sir Ulfar," she answered calmly, "it is not my will that we met here +to-day." + +"And as for meeting no more," said Brune, with passionate contempt, "I +will warrant that is not in your say-so, Ulfar Fenwick." + +As he spoke, Fenwick's friend handed Will Anneys a card; then they +drove rapidly away. Will was carefully wrapping his sister for her +solitary ride back to Seat-Ambar; and he did this with forced +deliberation, trying to appear undisturbed by what had occurred; for, +since it had happened, he wished his neighbours to think he had fully +expected it. And while so engaged he found opportunity to whisper to +Aspatria: "Now, my little lass, bear up as bravely as may be. It is +only one hour. Only one hour, dearie! Don't you try to speak. Only +keep your head high till you get home, darling!" + +So the sad procession turned homeward, Aspatria sitting alone in her +carriage, William and Brune riding on either side of her, the squires +and dames bidden to the ceremony following slowly behind. Some talked +softly of the affair; some passionately assailed William Anneys for +not felling the villain where he stood. Gradually they said good-by, +and so went to their own homes. Aspatria had to speak to each, she had +to sit erect, she had to bear the wondering, curious gaze not only of +her friends, but of the hinds and peasant-women in the small hamlets +between the church and Seat-Ambar; she had to endure her own longing +and disappointment, and make a poor attempt to smile when the children +flung their little posies of late flowers into the passing carriage. + +To the last moment she bore it. "A good, brave girl!" said Will, as +he left her at her own room door. "My word! it is better to have good +blood than good fortune: good blood never was beat! Aspatria is only a +little lass, but she is more than a match for yon villain! A big +villain he is, a villain with a latchet!" + +The miserable are sacred. All through that wretched afternoon no one +troubled Aspatria. Will and Brune sat by the parlour fire, for the +most part silent. The rain, which had barely held off until their +return from the church, now beat against the window-panes, and +drenched and scattered even the hardy Michaelmas daisies. The house +was as still as if there had been death instead of marriage in it. Now +and then Brune spoke, and sometimes William answered him, and +sometimes he did not. + +At last, after a long pause, Brune asked: "What was it Fenwick's +friend gave you? A message?" + +"A message." + +"You might as well say what, Will." + +"Ay, I might. It said Fenwick would wait for me a week at the Sceptre +Inn, Carlisle." + +"Will you go to Carlisle?" + +"To be sure I will go. I would not miss the chance of 'throwing' +him,--no, not for ten years' life!" + +"Dear me! what a lot of trouble has come with just taking a stranger +in out of the storm!" + +"Ay, it is a venturesome thing to do. How can any one tell what a +stranger may bring in with him?" + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +FOR MOTHER'S SAKE. + + +In the upper chamber where Will had left his sister, a great mystery +of sorrow was being endured. Aspatria felt as if all had been. Life +had no more joy to give, and no greater grief to inflict. She +undressed with rapid, trembling fingers; her wedding finery was +hateful in her sight. On the night before she had folded all her store +of clothing, and laid it ready to put in a trunk. She had been quite +in the dark as to her destiny; the only thing that appeared certain to +her was that she would have to leave home. Perhaps she would go with +Ulfar from the church door. In that case Will would have to send her +clothing, and she had laid it in the neatest order for the emergency. + +On the top of one pile lay a crimson Canton crape shawl. Her mother +had worn it constantly during the last year of her life; and Aspatria +had put it away, as something too sacred for ordinary use. She now +folded it around her shoulders, and sat down. Usually, when things +troubled her, she was restless and kept in motion, but this trouble +was too bitter and too great to resist; she was quiet, she took its +blows passively, and they smote her on every side. + +Could she ever forget that cruel ride home, ever cease to burn and +shiver when she remembered the eyes that had scanned her during its +progress? The air seemed full of them. She covered her face to avoid +the pitying, wondering, scornful glances. But this ride through the +valley of humiliation was not the bitterest drop in her bitter cup; +she could have smiled as she rode and drank it, if Ulfar had been at +her side. It was his desertion that was so distracting to her. She had +thought of many sorrows in connection with this forced marriage, but +this sorrow had never suggested itself as possible. + +Therefore, when Ulfar bade her farewell she had felt as if standing on +the void of the universe. It was the superhuman woman within her that +had answered him, and that had held up her head and had strengthened +her for her part all through that merciless ride. And the sight of her +handsome, faithless lover, the tones of his voice, the touch of his +hand, his half-respectful, half-pitying kindness, had awakened in her +heart a tenfold love for him. + +For she understood then, for the first time, her social and +educational inferiority. She felt even that she had done herself less +than justice in her fine raiment: her country breeding and simple +beauty would have appeared to greater advantage in the white merino +she had desired to wear. She had been forced into a dress that +accentuated her deficiencies. At that hour she thought she could never +see Mrs. Frostham again. + +To these tempestuous, humiliating, heart-breaking reflections the +storm outside made an angry accompaniment. The wind howled down the +chimney and wailed around the house, and the rain beat against the +window and pattered on the flagged walks. The darkness came on early, +and the cold grew every hour more searching. She was not insensible to +these physical discomforts, but they seemed so small a part of her +misery that she made no resistance to their attack. Will and Brune, +sitting almost speechless downstairs, were both thinking of her. When +it was quite dark they grew unhappy. First one and then the other +crept softly to her room door. All was as still as death. No movement, +no sound of any kind, betrayed in what way the poor soul within +suffered. No thread of light came from beneath the door: she was in +the dark, and she had eaten nothing all day. + +About six o'clock Will could bear it no longer. He knocked softly at +her door, and said: "My little lass, speak to Will! Have a cup of tea! +Do have a cup of tea, dearie!" + +The voice was so unlike Will's voice that it startled Aspatria. It +told her of a suffering almost equalling her own. She rose from the +chair in which she had been sitting for hours, and went to him. The +room was dark, the passage was dark; he saw nothing but the denser +dark of her figure, and her white face above it. She saw nothing but +his great bulk and his shining eyes. But she felt the love flowing +out from his heart to her, she felt his sorrow and his sympathy, and +it comforted her. She said: "Will, do not fret about me. I am +over-getting the shame and sorrow. Yes, I will have a cup of tea, and +tell Tabitha to make a fire here. Dear Will, I have been a great +care and shame to you." + +"Ay, you have, Aspatria; but I would rather die than miss you, my +little lass." + +This interview gave a new bent to Aspatria's thoughts. As she drank +the tea, and warmed her chilled feet before the blaze, she took into +consideration what misery her love for Ulfar Fenwick had brought to +her brothers' once happy home, the anxiety, the annoyance, the shame, +the ill-will and quarrelling, the humiliations that Will and Brune had +been compelled to endure. Then suddenly there flashed across her mind +the card given to Will by Ulfar's friend. She was not too simple to +conceive of its meaning. It was a defiance of some kind, and she knew +how Will would answer it. Her heart stood still with terror. + +She had seen Will and Ulfar wrestling; she had heard Will say to +Brune, when Ulfar was absent, "He knows little about it; when I had +that last grip, I could have flung him into eternity." It was common +enough for dalesmen quarrelling to have a "fling" with one another and +stand by its results. If Will and Ulfar met thus, one or both would be +irremediably injured. In their relation to her, both were equally +dear. She would have given her poor little life cheerfully for the +love of either. Her cup shook in her hand. She had a sense of hurry in +the matter, that drove her like a leaf before a strong wind. If Will +got to bed before she saw him, he might be away in the morning ere she +was aware. She put down her cup, and while she stood a moment to +collect her strength and thoughts, the subject on all its sides +flashed clearly before her. + +A minute afterward she opened the parlour door. Brune sat bent +forward, with a poker in his hands. He was tracing a woman's name in +the ashes, though he was hardly conscious of the act. Will's head was +thrown back against his chair; he seemed to be asleep. But when +Aspatria opened the door, he sat upright and looked at her. A pallor +like death spread over his face; it was the crimson shawl, his +mother's shawl, which caused it. Wearing it, Aspatria closely +resembled her. Will had idolized his mother in life, and he worshipped +her memory. If Aspatria had considered every earthly way of touching +Will's heart, she could have selected none so certain as the shawl, +almost accidentally assumed. + +She went direct to Will. He drew a low stool to his side, and Aspatria +sat down upon it, and then stretched out her left hand to Brune. The +two men looked at their sister, and then they looked at each other. +The look was a vow. Both so understood it. + +"Will and Brune," the girl spoke softly, but with a great +steadiness,--"Will and Brune, I am sorry to have given you so much +shame and trouble." + +"It is not your fault, Aspatria," said Brune. + +"But I will do so no more. I will never name Ulfar again. I will try +to be cheerful and to make home cheerful, try to carry on life as it +used to be before he came. We will not let people talk of him, we will +not mind it if they do. Eh, Will?" + +"Just now, dear, in a little while." + +"Will, dear Will! what did that card mean,--the one Ulfar's friend +gave? You will not go near Ulfar, Will? Please do not!" + +"I have a bit of business to settle with him, Aspatria, and then I +never want to see his face again." + +"Will, you must not go." + +"Ay, but I must. I have been thought of with a lot of bad names, but +no one shall think 'coward' of me." + +"Will, remember all I have suffered to-day." + +"I am not likely to forget it." + +"That ride home, Will, was as if I was going up Calvary. My +wedding-dress was heavy as a cross, and that foolish wreath of flowers +was a wreath of cruel thorns. I was pitied and scorned, till I felt +as if my heart--my real heart--was all bruised and torn. I have +suffered so much, Will, spare me more suffering. Will! Will! for your +little sister's sake, put that card in the fire, and stay here, right +here with me." + +"My lass! my dear lass, you cannot tell what you are asking." + +"I am asking you to give up your revenge. I know that is a great thing +for a man to do. But, Will, dear, you stand in father's place, you are +sitting in father's chair; what would he say to you?" + +"He would say, 'Give the rascal a good thrashing, Will. When a man +wrongs a woman, there is no other punishment for him. Thrash him to +within an inch of his cruel, selfish, contemptible life!' That is what +father would say, Aspatria. I know it, I feel it." + +"If you will not give up your revenge for me, nor yet for father, then +I ask you for mother's sake! What would mother say to-night if she +were here?--very like she is here. Listen to her, Will. She is +saying, 'Spare my little girl any more sorrow and shame, Will, my boy +Will!'--that is what mother would say. And if you hurt Ulfar you hurt +me also, and if Ulfar hurts you my heart will break. The fell-side is +ringing now with my troubles. If I have any more, I will go away where +no one can find me. For mother's sake, Will! For mother's sake!" + +The strong man was sobbing behind his hands, the struggle was a +terrific one. Brune watched it with tears streaming unconsciously down +his cheeks. Aspatria sunk at Will's feet, and buried her face on his +knees. + +"For mother's sake, Will! Let Ulfar go free." + +"My dear little lass, I cannot!" + +"For mother's sake, Will! I am speaking for mother! For mother's +sake!" + +"I--I--Oh, what shall I do, Brune?" + +"For mother's sake, Will!" + +He trembled until the chair shook. He dared not look at the weeping +girl. She rose up. She gently moved away his hands. She kissed his +eyelids. She said, with an irresistible entreaty: "Look at me, Will. I +am speaking for mother. Let Ulfar alone. I do not say forgive him." + +"Nay, I will never forgive him." + +"But let him alone. Will! Will! let him alone, for mother's sake!" + +Then he stood up. He looked into Aspatria's eyes; he let his gaze +wander to the crimson shawl. He began to sob like a child. + +"You may go, Aspatria," he said, in broken words. "If you ask me +anything in mother's name, I have no power to say no." + +He walked to the window and looked out into the dark stormy night, and +Brune motioned to Aspatria to go away. He knew Will would regain +himself better in her absence. She was glad to go. As soon as Will had +granted her request, she fell to the lowest ebb of life. She could +hardly drag herself up the long, dark stairs. She dropped asleep as +soon as she reached her room. + +It was a bitter awakening. The soul feels sorrow keenest at the first +moments of consciousness. It has been away, perhaps, in happy scenes, +or it has been lulling itself in deep repose, and then suddenly it is +called to lift again the heavy burden of its daily life. Aspatria +stood in her cold, dim room; and even while shivering in her thin +night-dress, with bare feet treading the polished oak floor, she +hastily put out of her sight the miserable wedding-garments. A large +dower-chest stood conveniently near. She opened it wide, and flung +dress and wreath and slippers and cloak into it. The lid fell from her +hands with a great clang, and she said to herself, "I will never open +it again." + +The storm still continued. She dressed in simple household fashion, +and went downstairs. Brune sat by the fire. He said: "I was waiting +for you, Aspatria. Will is in the barn. He had his coffee and bacon +long ago." + +"Brune, will you be my friend through all this trouble?" + +"I will stand by you through thick and thin, Aspatria. There is my +hand on it." + +About great griefs we do not chatter; and there was no further +discussion of those events which had been barely turned away from +tragedy and death. Murder and despairing love and sorrow might have a +secret dwelling-place in Seat-Ambar, but it was in the background. The +front of life went on as smoothly as ever; the cows were milked, the +sheep tended, the men and maids had their tasks, the beds were made, +and the tables set, with the usual order and regularity. + +And Aspatria found this "habit of living" to be a good staff to lean +upon. She assumed certain duties, and performed them; and the house +was pleasanter for her oversight. Will and Brune came far oftener to +sit at the parlour fireside, when they found Aspatria there to welcome +them. And so the days and weeks followed one another, bringing with +them those commonplace duties and interests which give to existence a +sense of stability and order. No one spoke of Fenwick; but all the +more Aspatria nursed his image in her heart and her imagination. He +had dressed himself for his marriage with great care and splendour. +Never had he looked so handsome and so noble in her eyes, and never +until that hour had she realized her social inferiority to him, her +lack of polish and breeding, her ignorance of all things which a woman +of birth and wealth ought to know and to possess. + +This was a humiliating acknowledgment; but it was Aspatria's first +upward step, for with it came an invincible determination to make +herself worthy of her husband's love and companionship. The hope and +the object gave a new colour to her life. As she went about her simple +duties, as she sat alone in her room, as she listened to her brothers +talking, it occupied, strengthened, and inspired her. Dark as the +present was, it held the hope of a future which made her blush and +tingle to its far-off joy. To learn everything, to go everywhere, to +become a brilliant woman, a woman of the world, to make her husband +admire and adore her,--these were the dreams that brightened the long, +sombre winter, and turned the low dim rooms into a palace of +enchantment. + +She was aware of the difficulties in her way. She thought first of +asking Will to permit her to go to a school in London. But she knew he +would never consent. She had no friends to whom she could confide her +innocent plans, she had as yet no money in her own control. But in +less than two years she would be of age. Her fortune would then be at +her disposal, and the law would permit her to order her own life. In +the mean time she could read and study at home: when the spring came +she would see the vicar, and he would lend her books from his library. +There was an Encyclopædia in the house; she got together its scattered +volumes, and began to make herself familiar with its _mélange_ of +information. + +In such efforts her heart was purified from all bitterness, wounded +vanity, and impatience. Life was neither lonely nor monotonous, she +had a noble object to work for. So the winter passed, and the spring +came again. All over the fells the ewes and their lambs made constant +work for the shepherds; and Aspatria greatly pleased Will by going +out frequently to pick up the perishing, weakly lambs and succour +them. + +One day in April she took a bottle of warm milk and a bit of sponge +and went up Calder Fell. On the first reach of the fell she found a +dying lamb, and carried it down to the shelter of some whin-bushes. +Then she fed it with the warm milk, and the little creature went to +sleep in her arms. + +The grass was green and fresh, the sun warm; the whins sheltered her +from the wind, and a little thrush in them, busy building her nest, +was making sweet music out of air as sweet. All was so glad and quiet: +she, too, was happy in her own thoughts. A wagon passed, and then a +tax-cart, and afterward two old men going ditching. She hardly lifted +her head; every one knew Aspatria Anneys. When the shadows told her +that it was near noon, she rose to go home, holding the lamb in her +arms. At that moment a carriage came slowly from behind the hedge. +She saw the fine horses with their glittering harness, and knew it +was a strange vehicle in Ambar-Side, so she sat down again until it +should pass. The lamb was in her left arm. She threw back her head, +and gazed fixedly into the whin-bush where the thrush had its nest. +Whoever it was, she did not wish to be recognized. + +Lady Redware, Sarah Sandys, and Ulfar Fenwick were in the carriage. At +the moment she stood with the lamb in her arms, Ulfar had known his +wife. Lady Redware saw her almost as quickly, and in some occult way +she transferred, by a glance, the knowledge to Sarah. The carriage was +going very slowly; the beauty of the thrown-back head, the simplicity +of her dress, the pastoral charm of her position, all were distinct. +Ulfar looked at her with a fire of passion in his eyes, Lady Redware +with annoyance. Sarah asked, with a mocking laugh, "Is that really +Little Bo Peep?" The joke fell flat. Ulfar did not immediately answer +it; and Sarah was piqued. + +"I shall go to Italy again," she said. "Englishmen may be admirable +_en masse_, but individually they are stupid or cross." + +"In Italy there are the Capuchins," answered Ulfar. He remembered that +Sarah had expressed herself strongly about the order. + +"I have just passed a week at Oxford among the Reverends; all things +considered, I prefer the Capuchins. When you have dined with a lord +bishop, you want to become a socialist." + +"Your Oxford friends are very nice people, Sarah." + +"Excellent people, Elizabeth, quite superior people, and they are all +sure not only of going to heaven, but also of joining the very best +society the place affords." + +"Best society!" said Ulfar, pettishly. "I am going to America. There, +I hope, I shall hear nothing about it." + +"America is so truly admirable. Why was it put in such an out-of-the-way +place? You have to sail three thousand miles to get to it," pouted Sarah. + +"All things worth having are put out of the way," replied Ulfar. + +"Yes," sighed Sarah. "What an admirable story is that of the serpent +and the apple!" + +"Come, Ulfar!" said Lady Redware, "do try to be agreeable. You used to +be so delightful! Was he not, Sarah?" + +"Was he? I have forgotten, Elizabeth. Since that time a great deal of +water has run into the sea." + +"If you want an ill-natured opinion about yourself, by all means go to +a woman for it." And Ulfar enunciated this dictum with a very scornful +shrug of his shoulders. + +"Ulfar!" + +"It is so, Elizabeth." + +"Never mind him, dear!" said Sarah. "I do not. And I have noticed that +the men who give bad characters to women have usually much worse ones +themselves. I think Ulfar is quite ready for American society and its +liberal ideas." And Sarah drew her shawl into her throat, and looked +defiantly at Ulfar. + +"The Americans are all socialists. I have read that, Ulfar. You know +what these liberal ideas come to,--always socialism." + +"Do not be foolish, Elizabeth. Socialism never comes from liberality +of thought: it is always a bequest of tyranny." + +"Ulfar, when are you going to be really nice and good again?" + +"I do not know, Elizabeth." + +"Ulfar is a standing exception to the rule that when things are at +their worst they must mend. Ulfar, lately, is always at his worst, and +he never mends." + +There was really some excuse for Ulfar; he was suffering keenly, and +neither of the two women cared to recognize the fact. He had just +returned from Italy with his father's remains, and after their burial +he had permitted Elizabeth to carry him off with her to Redware. In +reality the neighbourhood of Aspatria drew him like a magnet. He had +been haunted by her last, resentful, amazed, miserable look. He +understood from it that Will had never told her of his intention to +bid her farewell as soon as she was his wife, and he was not devoid of +imagination. His mind had constantly pictured scenes of humiliation +which he had condemned the woman he had once so tenderly loved to +endure. + +And that passing glimpse of her under the whin-bushes had revived +something of his old passion. He answered his sister's and Sarah's +remarks pettishly, because he wanted to be left alone with the new +hope that had come to him. Why not take Aspatria to America? She was +his wife. He had been compelled, by his sense of justice and honour, +to make her Lady Fenwick; why should he deny himself her company, +merely to keep a passionate, impulsive threat? + +To the heart the past is eternal, and love survives the pang of +separation. He thought of Aspatria for the next twenty-four hours. To +see her! to speak to her! to hear her voice! to clasp her to his +heart! Why should he deny himself these delights? What pleasure could +pride and temper give him in exchange? Fenwick had always loved to +overcome an obstacle, and such people cannot do without obstacles; +they are a necessary aliment. To see and to speak with Aspatria was +now the one thing in life worthy of his attention. + +It was not an easy thing to accomplish. Every day for nearly a week he +rode furiously to Calder Wood, tied his horse there, and then hung +about the brow of Calder Cliff, for it commanded Seat-Ambar, which lay +below it as the street lies below a high tower. With his glass he +could see Will and Brune passing from the house to the barns or the +fields, and once he saw Aspatria go to meet her brother Will; he saw +her lift her face to Will's face, he saw Will put her arm through his +arm and so go with her to the house. How he hated Will Anneys! What a +triumph it would be to carry off his sister unknown to him and without +his say-so! + +One morning he determined if he found no opportunity to see Aspatria +that day alone he would risk all, and go boldly to the house. Why +should he not do so? He had scarcely made the decision when he saw +Will and Brune drive away together. He remembered it was Dalton +market-day; and he knew that they had gone there. Almost immediately +Aspatria left the house also. Then he was jealous. Where was she going +as soon as her brothers left her? She was going to the vicar's to +return a book and carry him a cream cheese of her own making. + +He knew then how to meet her. She would pass through a meadow on her +way home, and this meadow was skirted by a young plantation. Half-way +down there was a broad stile between the two. He hurried his steps, +and arrived there just as Aspatria entered the meadow. There was a +high frolicking wind blowing right in her face. It had blown her +braids loose, and her tippet and dress backward; her slim form was +sharply defined by it, and it compelled her to hold up both her hands +in order to keep her hat on her head. + +She came on so, treading lightly, almost dancing with the merry gusts +to and fro. Once Ulfar heard a little cry that was half laughter, as +the wind made her pirouette and then stand still to catch her breath. +Ulfar thought the picture bewitching. He waited until she was within a +yard or two of the stile, ere he crossed it. She was holding her hat +down: she did not see him until he could have put his hand upon her. +Then she let her hands fall, and her hat blew backward, and she stood +quite still and quite speechless, her colour coming and going, all a +woman's softest witchery beaming in her eyes. + +"Aspatria! dear Aspatria! I am come to take you with me. I am going to +America." He spoke a little sadly, as if he had some reason for +feeling grieved. + +She shook her head positively, but she did not, or she could not, +speak. + +"Aspatria, have you no kiss, no word of welcome, no love to give me?" +And he put out his hand, as if to draw her to his embrace. + +She stepped quickly backward: "No, no, no! Do not touch me, Ulfar. Go +away. Please go away!" + +"But you must go with me. You are my wife, Aspatria." And he said the +last words very like a command. + +"I am not your wife. Oh, no!" + +"I say you are. I married you in Aspatria Church." + +"You also left me there, left me to such shame and sorrow as no man +gives to the woman he loves." + +"Perhaps I did act cruelly in two or three ways, Aspatria; but people +who love forgive two or three offences. Let us be lovers as we used to +be." + +"No, I will not be lovers as we used to be. People who love do not +commit two or three such offences as you committed against me." + +"I will atone for them. I will indeed! Aspatria, I miss you very much. +I will not go to America without you. How soon can you be ready? In a +week?" + +"You will atone to me? How? There is but one way. You shall, in your +own name, call every one in Allerdale, gentle and simple, to Aspatria +Church. You shall marry me again in their presence, and go with me to +my own home. The wedding-feast shall be held there. You shall count +Will and Brune Anneys as your brothers. You shall take me away, in the +sight of all, to your home. Of all the honour a wife ought to have you +must give me here, among my own people, a double portion. Will you do +this in atonement?" + +"You are talking folly, Aspatria. I have married you once." + +"You have not married me once. You met me at Aspatria Church to shame +me, to break my heart with love and sorrow, to humble my good +brothers. No, I am not your wife! I will not go with you!" + +"I can make you go, Aspatria. You seem to forget the law--" + +"Will says the law will protect me. But if it did not, if you took me +by force to your house or yacht, you would not have me. You could not +touch me. Aspatria Anneys is beyond your reach." + +"You are Aspatria Fenwick." + +"I have never taken your name. Will told me not to do so. Anneys is a +good name. No Anneys ever wronged me." + +"You refused my home, you refused my money, and now you refuse my +name. You are treating me as badly as possible. The day before our +marriage I sent to your brother a signed settlement for your support, +the use of Fenwick Castle as a residence, and two thousand pounds a +year. Your brother Will, the day after our marriage, took it to my +agent and tore it to pieces in his presence." + +"Will did right. He knew his sister would not have your home and money +without your love." + +She spoke calmly, with a dignity that became well her youth and +beauty. Ulfar thought her exceedingly lovely. He attempted to woo her +again with the tender glances and soft tones and caressing touch of +their early acquaintance. Aspatria sorrowfully withdrew herself; she +held only repelling palms toward his bending face. She was not coy, he +could have overcome coyness; she was cold, and calm, and watchful of +him and of herself. Her face and throat paled and blushed, and blushed +and paled; her eyes were dilated with feeling; her pretty bow-shaped +mouth trembled; she radiated a personality sweet, strong, womanly,--a +piquant, woodland, pastoral delicacy, all her own. + +But after many useless efforts to influence her, he began to despair. +He perceived that she still loved him, perhaps better than she had +ever done, but that her determination to consider their marriage void +had its source in a oneness of mind having no second thoughts and no +doubt behind it. The only hope she gave him was in another marriage +ceremony which in its splendour and publicity should atone in some +measure for the first. He could not contemplate such a confession of +his own fault. He could not give Will and Brune Anneys such a triumph. +If Aspatria loved him, how could she ask such a humiliating atonement? +Aspatria saw the shadow of these reflections on his face. Though he +said nothing, she understood it was this struggle that gave the +momentary indecision to his pleading. + +For herself, she did not desire a present reconciliation. She had +nursed too long the idea of the Aspatria that was to be, the wise, +clever, brilliant woman who was to win over again her husband. She did +not like to relinquish this hope for a present gratification, a +gratification so much lower in its aim that she now understood that it +never could long satisfy a nature so complex and so changeable as +Ulfar's. She therefore refused him his present hope, believing that +fate had a far better meeting in store for them. + +While these thoughts flashed through her mind, she kept her eyes upon +the horizon. In that wide-open fixed gaze her loving, troubled soul +revealed itself. Ulfar was wondering whether it was worth while to +begin his argument all over again, when she said softly: "We must now +say farewell. I see the vicar's maid coming. In a few hours the +fell-side will know of our meeting. I must tell Will, myself. I +entreat you to leave the dales as soon as possible." + +"I will not leave them without you." + +"Go to-night. I shall not change what I have said. There is nothing to +be done but to part. We are no longer alone. Good-by, Ulfar!--dear +Ulfar!" + +"I care not who is present. You are my wife." And he clasped her in +his arms and kissed her. + +Perhaps she was not sorry. Perhaps her own glance of love and longing +had commanded the embrace; for when she released herself she was +weeping, and Ulfar's tears were on her cheeks. But she called the +vicar's maid imperatively, and so put an end to the interview. + +"That was my husband, Lottie," she said. It was the only explanation +offered. Aspatria knew it was useless to expect any reticence on the +subject. In that isolated valley such a piece of news could not be +kept; the very birds would talk about it in their nests. She must +herself tell Will, and although she had done nothing wrong, she was +afraid to tell him. + +When she reached home she was glad to hear that Will had been sent for +to Squire Frostham's. "It was something about a fox," said Brune. +"They wanted me too, but Alice Frostham is a girl I cannot abide. I +would not go near her." + +"Brune, will you take a long ride for my sake?" + +"I will do anything for you I can." + +"I met Ulfar Fenwick this morning." + +"Then you did a bad thing. I would not have believed it of you. Good +Lord! there is as much two-facedness in a woman as there is meat in an +egg." + +"Brune, you are thinking wrong. I did not know he was in the country +till he stood before me; and he did not move me a hair's-breadth any +way. But Lottie from the vicarage saw us together; and she was going +to Dalton. You know what she will say; and by and by the Frosthams +will hear; and then they will feel it to be 'only kind' to talk to +Will about me and my affairs; and the end of it will be some foolish +deed or other. If you love me, Brune, go to Redware to-night, and see +Lady Redware, and tell her there is danger for her brother if he stays +around here." + +"I can say that truly. There is danger for the scoundrel, a good deal +of it." + +"Brune, it would be such a sorrow to me if every one were talking of +me again. Do what I ask you, Brune. You promised to stand by me +through thick and thin." + +"I did; and I will go to Redware as soon as I have eaten my dinner. If +Lottie saw him, it will be known all over. And if no one came up here +on purpose to tell Will, he would hear it at Dalton next week, when +that lot of bothering old squires sit down to their market dinner. It +would be a grand bit for them to chew with their victuals." + +"I thought they talked about politics." + +"They are like other men. If you get more than one man in a place, +they are talking bad about some woman. They call it politics, but it +is mostly slander." + +"I am going to tell Will myself." + +"That is a deal the best plan." + +"Be sure to frighten Lady Redware; make her think Ulfar's life is in +danger,--anything to get him out of the dales." + +"She will feel as if the heavens were going to fall, when I get done +with her. My word! who would have thought of him coming back? Life is +full of surprises." + +"But only think, if there was never anything accidental happened! +Surprises are just what make life worth having,--eh, Brune?" + +"Maybe so, and maybe not. When Will comes home, tell him everything at +once. I can manage Lady Redware, I'll be bound." + +With the promise he went away to perform it, and Aspatria carried her +trembling heart into solitude. But the lonely place was full of Ulfar. +A thousand hopes were budding in her heart, growing slowly, strongly, +sweetly, in that earth which she had made for them out of her love, +her desires, her hopes, and her faithful aspirations. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +BUT THEY WERE YOUNG. + + +Brune arrived at Redware Hall while it was still afternoon, and he +found no difficulty in obtaining an interview with its mistress. She +was sitting at a table in a large bay-window, painting the view from +it. For in those days ladies were not familiar with high art and all +its nomenclature and accessories; Lady Redware had never thought of an +easel, or a blouse, or indeed of any of the trappings now considered +necessary to the making of pictures. She was prettily dressed in silk; +and a square of bristol-board, a box of Newman's water-colours, and a +few camel's-hair pencils were neatly arranged before her. + +She rose when Brune entered, and met him with a suave courtesy; and +the unsophisticated young man took it for a genuine pleasure. He felt +sorry to trouble such a nice-looking gentlewoman, and he said so with +a sincerity that made her suddenly serious. "Have you brought me bad +news, Mr. Anneys?" she asked. + +"I am afraid you will be put about a bit. Sir Ulfar Fenwick met my +sister this morning; and they were seen by ill-natured eyes, and I +came, quiet-like, to let you know that he must leave the dales +to-night." + +"Cannot Sir Ulfar meet his own wife?" + +"Lady Redware, that is not the question. Put it, 'Cannot Sir Ulfar +meet your sister?' and I will answer you quick enough, 'Not while +there are two honest men in Allerdale to prevent him.'" + +"You cannot frighten Sir Ulfar from Allerdale. To threaten him is to +make him stay." + +"Dalesmen are not ones to threaten. I tell you that the vicar's maid +saw Sir Ulfar and my sister together; and when William Anneys hears of +it, Sir Ulfar will get such a notice to leave these parts as will +give him no choice. I came to warn him away before he could not help +himself. I say freely, I did so to please Aspatria, and out of no +good-will going his way." + +"But if he will not leave Allerdale?" + +"But if William Anneys, and the sixty gentlemen who will ride with +William Anneys, say he must go? What then?" + +"Of course Sir Ulfar cannot fight a mob." + +"Not one of that mob of gentlemen would fight him; but they all carry +stout riding-whips." And Brune looked at the lady with a sombre +intentness which made further speech unnecessary. She had been alarmed +from the first; she now made no further attempt to disguise her +terror. + +"What must I do, Mr. Anneys?" she asked. "What must I do?" + +"Send your brother away from Cumberland to-night. I say he must leave +to-night. To-morrow morning may be too late to prevent a great +humiliation. Aspatria begged me to come to you. I do not say I wanted +to come." + +At this moment the door opened, and Sarah Sandys entered. Brune +turned, and saw her; and his heart stood still. She came slowly +forward, her garment of pale-green and white just touching her +sandalled feet. She had a rush basket full of violets in her hands; +there were primroses in her breast and belt, and her face was like a +pink rose. High on her head her fair hair was lifted, and, being +fastened with a large turquoise comb, it gave the idea of sunshine and +blue sky. + +Brune stood looking at her, as a mortal might look at the divine +Cytherea made manifest. His handsome, open face, full of candid +admiration, had almost an august character. He bowed to her, as men +bow when they bend their heart and give its homage and delight. Sarah +was much impressed by the young man's beauty, and she felt his swift +adoration of her own charms. She made Lady Redware introduce her to +Brune, and she completed her conquest of the youth as she stood a +moment holding his hand and smiling with captivating grace into his +eyes. + +Then Lady Redware explained Brune's mission, and Sarah grasped the +situation without any disguises. "It simply means flight, Elizabeth," +she said. "What could Ulfar do with fifty or sixty angry Cumberland +squires? He would have to go. In fact, I know they have a method of +persuasion no mortal man can resist." + +Brune saw that his errand was accomplished. Lady Redware thanked him +for his consideration, and Sarah rang for the tea-service, and made +him a cup, and gave it to him with her own lovely hands. Brune saw +their exquisite form, their translucent glow, the sparkling of +diamonds and emeralds upon them. The tea was as if brewed in +Paradise; it tasted of all things delightful; it was a veritable cup +of enchantments. + +Then Brune rode away, and the two women watched him over the hill. He +sat his great black hunter like a cavalry officer; and the creature +devoured the distance with strides that made their hearts leap to the +sense of its power and life. + +"He is the very handsomest man I ever saw!" said Sarah. + +"What is to be done about Ulfar? Sarah, you must manage this business. +He will not listen to me." + +"Ulfar has five senses. Ulfar is very fond of himself. He will leave +Redware, of course. How handsome Brune Anneys is!" + +"Will you coax him to leave to-night?" + +"Ulfar? Yes, I will; for it is the proper thing for him to do. It +would be a shame to bring his quarrels to your house.--What a splendid +rider! Look, Elizabeth, he is just topping the hill! I do believe he +turned his head! Is he not handsome? Apollo! Antinoüs! Pshaw! Brune +Anneys is a great deal more human, and a great deal more godlike, than +either." + +"Do not be silly, Sarah. And do occupy yourself a little with Ulfar +now." + +"When the hour comes, I will. Ulfar is evidently occupying himself at +present in watching his wife. There is a decorous naughtiness and a +stimulating sense of danger about seeing Aspatria, that must be a +thorough enjoyment to Ulfar." + +"Men are always in fusses. Ulfar has kept my heart palpitating ever +since he could walk alone." + +Sarah sighed. "It is very difficult," she said, "to decide whether +very old men or very young men can be the greater trial. The suffering +both can cause is immense! Poor Sandys was sixty-six, and Ulfar is +thirty-six, and--" She shook her head, and sighed again. + +"How hateful country-people are!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "They must +talk, no matter what tragedy they cause with their scandalous words." + +"Are they worse than our own set, either in town or country? You know +what the Countess of Denbigh considered pleasant conversation?--telling +things that ought not to be told." + +"The Countess is a wretch! she would tell the most sacred of +secrets." + +"I tell secrets also. I do not consider it wrong. What business has +any one to throw the _onus_ of keeping their secret on my shoulders? +Why should they expect from me more prudence than they themselves have +shown?" + +"That is true. But in these valleys they speak so uncomfortably +direct; nothing but the strongest, straightest, most definite words +will be used." + +"That is a pity. People ought to send scandal through society in a +respectable hunt-the-slipper form of circulation. But that is a kind +of decency to be cultivated. However, I shall tell Ulfar, in the +plainest words I can find, that there will be about sixty Cumberland +squires here to-morrow, to ride with him out of the county, and that +they are looking forward to the fun of it just as much as if it was a +fox-hunt. Ulfar has imagination. He will be able to conceive such a +ride,--the flying man, and the roaring, laughing, whip-cracking +squires after him! He will remember how Tom Appleton the wrestler, who +did something foul, was escorted across the county line last summer. +And Ulfar hates a scene. Can you fancy him making himself the centre +of such an affair?" + +So they talked while Brune galloped homeward in a very happy mood. He +felt as those ancients may have felt when they met the Immortals and +saluted them. The thought of the beautiful Mrs. Sandys filled his +imagination; but he talked comfortably to Aspatria, and assured her +that there was now no fear of a meeting between her husband and Will. +"Only," he said, "tell Will yourself to-night, and he will never doubt +you." + +Unfortunately, Will did not return that night from the Frosthams'; for +in the morning the two men were to go together to Dalton very early. +Will heard nothing there, but Mrs. Frostham was waiting at her garden +gate to tell him when he returned. He had left Squire Frostham with +his son-in-law, and was alone. Mrs. Frostham made a great deal of the +information, and broke it to Will with much consideration. Will heard +her sullenly. He was getting a few words ready for Aspatria, as Mrs. +Frostham told her tale, but they were for her alone. To Mrs. Frostham +he adopted a tone she thought very ungrateful. + +For when the whole affair, real and consequential, had been told, he +answered: "What is there to make a wonder of? Cannot a woman talk and +walk a bit with her own husband? Maybe he had something very +particular to say to her. I think it is a shame to bother a little +lass about a thing like that." + +And he folded himself so close that Mrs. Frostham could neither +question nor sympathize with him longer. "Good-evening to you," he +said coldly; and then, while visible, he took care to ride as if quite +at his ease. But the moment the road turned from Frostham he whipped +his horse to its full speed, and entered the farmyard with it in a +foam of hurry, and himself in a foam of passion. + +Aspatria met him with the confession on her lips. He gave her no time. +He assailed her with affronting and injurious epithets. He pushed her +hands and face from him. He vowed her tears were a mockery, and her +intention of confessing a lie. He met all her efforts at explanation, +and all her attempts to pacify him, at sword-point. + +She bore it patiently for a while; and then Will Anneys saw an +Aspatria he had never dreamed of. She seemed to grow taller; she did +really grow taller; her face flamed, her eyes flashed, and, in a voice +authoritative and irresistible, she commanded him to desist. + +"You are my worst enemy," she said. "You are as deaf as the village +gossips. You will not listen to the truth. Your abuse, heard by every +servant in the house, certifies all that malice dares to think. And +in wounding my honour you are a parricide to our mother's good name! I +am ashamed of you, Will!" + +From head to foot she reflected the indignation in her heart, as she +stood erect with her hands clasped and the palms dropped downward, no +sign of tears, no quiver of fear or doubt, no retreat, and no +submission, in her face or attitude. + +"Why, whatever is the matter with you, Aspatria?" + +At this moment Brune entered, and she went to him, and put her hand +through his arm, and said: "Brune, speak for me! Will has insulted +mother and father, through me, in such a way that I can never forgive +him!" + +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Will Anneys!" And Brune put his +sister gently behind him, and then marched squarely up to his +brother's face. "You are as passionate as a brute beast, Will, and +that, too, with a poor little lass that has her own troubles, and has +borne them like--like a good woman always does." + +"I do not want to hear you speak, Brune." + +"Ay, but I will speak, and you shall hear me. I tell you, Aspatria is +in no kind to blame. The man came on her sudden, out of the +plantation. She did not take his hand, she did not listen to him. She +sent him about his business as quick as might be." + +"Lottie Patterson saw her," said Will, dourly. + +"Because Aspatria called Lottie Patterson to her; and if Lottie +Patterson says she saw anything more or worse than ought to be, I will +pretty soon call upon Seth Patterson to make his sister's words good. +Cush! I will that! And what is more, Will Anneys, if you do not know +how to take care of your sister's good name, I will teach you,--you +mouse of a man! You go and side with that Frostham set against +Aspatria! Chaff on the Frosthams! It is a bad neighbourhood where a +girl like Aspatria cannot say a word or two on the king's highway at +broad noonday, without having a _sisserara_ about it." + +"I did not side with the Frosthams against Aspatria." + +"I'll be bound you did!" + +"Let me alone, Brune! Go your ways out of here, both of you!" + +"To be sure, we will both go. Come, Aspatria. When you are tired of +ballooning, William Anneys, and can come down to common justice, maybe +then I will talk to you,--not till." + +Now, good honest anger is one of the sinews of the soul; and he that +wants it when there is occasion has but a maimed mind. The hot words, +the passionate atmosphere, the rebellion of Aspatria, the decision of +Brune, had the same effect upon Will's senseless anger as a +thunder-storm has upon the hot, heavy, summer air. Will raged his bad +temper away, and was cool and clear-minded after it. + +At the same hour the same kind of mental thunder-storm was prevailing +over all common-sense at Redware Hall. Ulfar, after a long and vain +watch for another opportunity to speak to Aspatria, returned there in +a temper compounded of anger, jealousy, disappointment, and +unsatisfied affection. He heard Lady Redware's story of his own danger +and of Brune's consideration with scornful indifference. Brune's +consideration he laughed at. He knew very well, he answered, that +Brune Anneys hated him, and would take the greatest delight in such a +hubbub as he pretended was in project. + +"But he came to please Aspatria," continued Lady Redware. "He said he +came only to please Aspatria." + +"So Aspatria wishes me to leave Allerdale? I will not go." + +"Sarah, he will not go," cried Lady Redware, as her friend entered +the room. "He says he will not go." + +"That is because you have appealed to Ulfar's feelings instead of to +his judgment. When Ulfar considers how savagely primitive these +dalesmen are in their passions, he will understand that discretion is +the nobler part of valour. In Russia he thought it a very prudent +thing to get out of the way when a pack of wolves were in the +neighbourhood." + +"The law will protect me in this house. Human beings have to mind the +law." + +"There are times when human beings are a law unto themselves. How +would you like to see a crowd of angry men shouting around this house +for you? Think of your sister,--and of me, if I am worth so much +consideration." + +"I am not to be frightened, Sarah." + +"Will you consider, then, that as far as Keswick and Kendal on one +side, and as far as Dalton and Whitehaven on the other side, every +local newspaper will have, or will make, its own version of the +affair? The Earl of Lonsdale, with a large party, is now at +Whitehaven Castle. What a _sauce piquante_ it will be to his dinners! +How the men will howl over it, and how the women will snicker and +smile!" + +"Sarah! you can think of the hatefullest things." + +"And Lonsdale will go up to London purposely to have the delight of +telling it at the clubs." + +"Sarah!" + +"And the 'Daily Whisper' will get Lonsdale's most delectable version, +and blow it with the four winds of heaven to the four corners of the +civilized world." + +"Sarah Sandys, I--" + +"Worse still! that poor girl whom you treated so abominably, must +suffer the whole thing over again. Her name will be put as the head +and front of your offending. All her sorrows and heartbreak will be +made a penny mouthful for country bumpkins and scandalous gammers to +'Oh!' and 'Ah!' over. Ulfar, if you are a man, you will not give her a +moment's terror of such consequences. You may see that she fears +them, by her sending her brother to entreat your absence." + +"And I must be called coward and runaway!" + +"Let them call you anything they like, so that you spare her further +shame and sorrow." + +"Your talking in this fashion to me, Sarah, is very like Satan +correcting sin. I loved Aspatria when I met you in Rome." + +"Of course! Adam always has his Eve ready. 'Not my fault, good people! +Look at this woman! With her bright smiles and her soft tongue she +beguiled me; and so I fell!' We can settle that question, you and +I, again. Now you must ring the bell, and order your horse--say, +at four o'clock to-morrow morning. You can have nearly six hours' +sleep,--quite enough for you." + +"You have not convinced me, Sarah." + +"Then you must ride now, and be convinced afterward. For your sister's +sake and for Aspatria's sake, you will surely go away." + +Lady Redware was crying, and she cried a little harder to emphasize +Sarah's pleading. Ulfar was in a hard strait. He looked angrily at the +handsome little woman urging him to do the thing he hated to do, and +then taking the kerchief from his sister's face, he kissed her, and +promised to leave Redware at dawn of day. + +"But," said he, "if you send me away now, I tell you, our parting is +likely to be for many years, perhaps for life. I am going beyond +civilization, and so beyond scandal." + +"Do not flatter yourself so extravagantly, Ulfar. There is scandal +everywhere, and always has been, even from the beginning. I have no +doubt those nameless little sisters of Cain and Abel were talked about +unpleasantly by their sisters and brothers-in-law. In fact, wherever +there are women there are men glad to pull them down to their own +level." + +"Is it not very hard, then, that I am not to be permitted to stay here +and defend the women I love?" + +Sarah shook her head. "It is beyond your power, Ulfar. If Porthos were +on earth again, or Amadis of Gaul, they might have happy and useful +careers in handling as they deserve the maligners of good, quiet +women. But the men of this era!--which of them durst lift the stone +that the hand without sin is permitted to cast?" + +So they talked the night away, drifting gradually from the unpleasant +initial subject to Ulfar's plan of travel and the far-off prospect of +his return. And in the gray, cold dawn he bade them farewell, and they +watched him until he vanished in the mists rolling down the mountain. +Then they kissed each other,--a little, sad kiss of congratulation, +wet with tears; they had won their desire, but their victory had left +them weeping. Alas! it is the very condition of success that every +triumph must be baptized with somebody's tears. + +This event, beginning in such a trifle as an almost accidental visit +of Aspatria to the vicar, was the line sharply dividing very different +lives. Nothing in Seat-Ambar was ever quite the same after it. William +Anneys, indeed, quickly perceived and acknowledged his fault, and the +reconciliation was kind and complete; but Aspatria had taken a step +forward, and crossed clearly that bound which divides girlhood from +womanhood. Unconsciously she assumed a carriage that Will felt +compelled to respect, and a tone was in her voice he did not care to +bluff and contradict. He never again ordered her to remain silent or +to leave his presence. A portion of his household authority had passed +from him, both as regarded Aspatria and Brune; and he felt himself to +be less master than he had formerly been. + +Perhaps this was one reason of the growing frequency of his visits to +Frostham. There he was made much of, deferred to, and all his little +fancies flattered and obeyed. Will knew he was the most important +person in the world to Alice Frostham; and he knew, also, that he only +shared Aspatria's heart with Ulfar Fenwick. Men like the whole heart, +and nothing less than the whole heart; hence Alice's influence grew +steadily all through the summer days, full to the brim of happy labour +and reasonable love. As early as the haymaking Will told Aspatria that +Alice was coming to Seat-Ambar as its mistress; and when the harvest +was gathered in, the wedding took place. It was as noisily jocund an +affair as Aspatria's had been silent and sorrowful; and Alice +Frostham, encircled by Will's protecting arm, was led across the +threshold of her own new home, to the sound of music and rejoicing. + +The home was quickly divided, though without unkind intent. Will and +Alice had their own talk, their own hopes and plans, and Aspatria and +Brune generally felt that their entrance interfered with some +discussion. So Aspatria and Brune began to sit a great deal in +Aspatria's room, and by and by to discuss, in a confidential way, what +they were to do with their future. Brune had no definite idea. +Aspatria's intents were clear and certain. But she knew that she must +wait until the spring brought her majority and her freedom. + +One frosty day, near Christmas, as Brune was returning from Dalton, he +heard himself called in a loud, cheerful voice. He was passing +Seat-Ketel, and he soon saw Harry Ketel coming quickly toward him. +Harry wore a splendid scarlet uniform; and the white snow beneath his +feet, and the dark green pines between which he walked, made it all +the more splendid by their contrast. Brune had not seen Harry for +five years; but they had been companions through their boyhood, and +their memories were stored with the pleasant hours they had spent +together. + +Brune passed that night, and many subsequent ones, with his old +friend; and when Harry went back to his regiment he took with him a +certainty that Brune would soon follow. In fact, Harry had found his +old companion in that mood which is ready to accept the first opening +as the gift of fate. Brune found there was a commission to be bought +in the Household Foot-Guards, and he was well able to pay for it. +Indeed, Brune was by no means a poor man; his father had left him +seven thousand pounds, and his share of the farm's proceeds had been +constantly added to it. + +Aspatria was delighted. She might now go to London in Brune's care. +They discussed the matter constantly, and began to make the +preparations necessary for the change. But affairs were not then +arranged by steam and electricity, and the letters relating to the +purchase and transfer of Brune's commission occupied some months in +their transit to and fro; although Brune did not rely upon the +postman's idea of the practicability of the roads. + +Aspatria's correspondence was also uncertain and unsatisfactory +for some time. She had at first no guide to a school but the +advertisements in the London papers which Harry sent to his friend. +But one night Brune, without any special intention, named the matter +to Mrs. Ketel; and that lady was able to direct Aspatria to an +excellent school in Richmond, near London. And as she was much more +favourably situated for a quick settlement of the affair, she +undertook the necessary correspondence. + +Will was not ignorant of these movements, but Alice induced him to be +passive in them. "No one can then blame us, Will, whatever happens." +And as Will and Alice were extremely sensitive to public opinion, this +was a good consideration. Besides Alice, not unnaturally, wished to +have the Seat to herself; so that Aspatria's and Brune's wishes fitted +admirably into her own desires, and it gave her a kind of selfish +pleasure to forward them. + +The ninth of March was Aspatria's twenty-first birthday; and it was to +her a very important anniversary, for she received as its gift her +freedom and her fortune. There was no hitch or trouble in its transfer +from Will to herself. Honour and integrity were in the life-blood of +William Anneys, honesty and justice the very breath of his nostrils. +Aspatria's fortune had been guarded with a super-sensitive care; and +when years gave her its management, Will surrendered it cheerfully to +her control. + +Fortunately, the school selected by Mrs. Ketel satisfied Will +thoroughly; and Brune's commission in the Foot-Guards was in +honourable accord with the highest traditions and spirit of the dales. +For the gigantic and physically handsome men of these mountain +valleys have been for centuries considered the finest material for +those regiments whose duty it is to guard the persons and the homes of +royalty. Brune had only followed in the steps of a great number of his +ancestors. + +In the beginning of April, Aspatria left Seat-Ambar for London,--left +forever all the pettiness of her house life, chairs and tables, sewing +and meals, and the useless daily labour that has to be continually +done over again. And at the last Will was very tender with her, and +even Alice did her best to make the parting days full of hope and +kindness. As for the journey, there was no anxiety; Brune was to +travel with his sister, and see her safely within her new home. + +Yet neither of them left the old home without some tears. Would they +ever see again those great, steadfast hills, that purify those who +walk upon them; ever dwell again within the dear old house, that had +not been builded, but had grown with the family it had sheltered, +through a thousand years? They hardly spoke to each other, as they +drove through the sweet valleys, where the sunshine laid a gold on the +green, and the warm south-wind gently rocked the daisies, and the +lark's song was like a silvery water-fall up in the sky. + +But they were young; and, oh, the rich significance of the word +"young" when the heart is young as well as the body, when the thoughts +are not doubts, and when the eyes look not backward, but only forward, +into a bright future! + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +"LOVE SHALL BE LORD OF SANDY-SIDE." + + +During thirty years of the first half of this century Mrs. St. Alban's +finishing school for young gentlewomen was a famous institution of its +kind. For she had been born to the manner of courts and of people of +high degree; and when evil fortune met her, she very wisely turned her +inherited social advantages into a means of honest livelihood. +Aspatria was much impressed by her noble bearing and fine manners, and +by the elaborate state in which the twelve pupils, of whom she was +one, lived. + +Each had her own suite of apartments; each was expected to keep a +maid, and to dress with the utmost care and propriety. There were +fine horses in the stables for their equestrian exercise, there +were grooms to attend them during it, and there were regular +reception-days, which afforded tyros in social accomplishments +practical opportunities for cultivating the graceful and gracious +urbanity which evidences really fine breeding. + +Many of Aspatria's companions were of high rank,--Lady Julias and Lady +Augustas, who were destined to wear ducal coronets and to stand around +the throne of their young queen. But they were always charmingly +pleasant and polite, and Aspatria soon acquired their outward form of +calm deliberation and their mode of low, soft speech. For the rest, +she decided, with singular prudence, to cultivate only those talents +which nature had obviously granted her. + +A few efforts proved that she had no taste for art. Indeed, the +attempt to portray the majesty of the mountains or the immensity of +the ocean seemed to her childishly petty and futile. She had dwelt +among the high places and been familiar with the great sea, and to +make images of them appeared a kind of sacrilege. But she liked the +study of languages, and she had a rich contralto voice capable of +expressing all the emotions of the heart. At the piano she hesitated; +its music, under her unskilled fingers, sounded mechanical; she +doubted her ability to put a soul into that instrument. But the harp +was different; its strings held sympathetic tones she felt competent +to master. To these studies she added a course of English literature +and dancing. She was already a fine rider, and her information +obtained from the vicar's library and the Encyclopædia covered an +enormous variety of subjects, though it was desultory, and in many +respects imperfect. + +Her new life was delightful to her. She had an innate love for study, +for quiet, and for elegant surroundings. These tastes were fully +gratified. The large house stood in a fair garden, surrounded by very +high walls, with entrance-gates of handsomely wrought iron. Perfect +quiet reigned within this flowery enclosure. She could study without +the constant interruptions which had annoyed her at home; and she was +wisely aided in her studies by masters whose low voices and gliding +steps seemed only to accentuate the peace of the wide schoolroom, with +its perfect appointments and its placid group of beautiful students. + +On Saturdays Brune generally spent several hours with her; and if the +weather were fine, they rode or walked in the Park. Brune was a +constant wonder to Aspatria. Certainly his handsome uniform had done +much for him, but there was a greater change than could be effected +by mere clothes. Without losing that freshness and singleness of mind +he owed to his country training, he had become a man of fashion, a +little of a dandy, a very innocent sort of a lady-killer. His arrival +caused always a faint flutter in Mrs. St. Alban's dove-cot, and the +noble damosels found many little womanly devices to excuse their +passing through the parlour while Brune was present. They liked to see +him bend his beautiful head to them; and Lady Mary Boleyn, who was +Aspatria's friend and companion, was mildly envied the privileges this +relation gave her. + +During the vacations Aspatria was always the guest of one or other of +her mates, though generally she spent them at the splendid seat of the +Boleyns in Hampshire, and the unconscious education thus received was +of the greatest value to her. It gave the ease of nature to acquired +accomplishments, and, above all, that air which we call distinction, +which is rarely natural, and is attained only by frequent association +with those who dwell on the highest social peaks. + +Much might be said of this phase of Aspatria's life which may be left +to the reader's imagination. For three years it saw only such changes +as advancing intelligence and growing friendships made. The real +change was in Aspatria personally. No one could have traced without +constant doubt the slim, virginal, unfinished-looking girl that left +Seat-Ambar, in the womanly perfection of Aspatria aged twenty-four +years. She had grown several inches taller; her angles had all +disappeared; every joint was softly rounded. Her hands and arms were +exquisite; her throat and the poise of her head like those of a Greek +goddess. Her hair was darker and more abundant, and her eyes retained +all their old charm, with some rarer and nobler addition. + +To be sure, she had not the perfect regularity of feature that +distinguished some of her associates, that exact beauty which Titian's +Venus possesses, and which makes no man's heart beat a throb the +faster. Her face had rather the mobile irregularity of Leonardo's Mona +Lisa, the charming face that men love passionately, the face that men +can die for. + +At the close of the third year she refused all invitations for the +summer holidays, and went back to Seat-Ambar. There had not been much +communication between Will and herself. He was occupied with his land +and his sheep, his wife and his two babies. People then took each +other's affection as a matter of course, without the daily assurance +of it. About twice a year Will had sent her a few strong words of +love, and a bare description of any change about the home, or else +Alice had covered a sheet with pretty nothings, written in the small, +pointed, flowing characters then fashionable. + +But the love of Aspatria for her home depended on no such trivial, +accidental tokens. It was in her blood; her personality was knotted to +Seat-Ambar by centuries of inherited affection; she could test it by +the fact that it would have killed her to see it pass into a +stranger's hands. When once she had turned her face northward, it +seemed impossible to travel quickly enough. Hundreds of miles away she +felt the cool wind blowing through the garden, and the scent of the +damask rose was on it. She heard the gurgling of the becks and the +wayside streams, and the whistling of the boys in the barn, and the +tinkling of the sheep-bells on the highest fells. The raspberries were +ripe in their sunny corner; she tasted them afar off. The dark oak +rooms, their perfume of ancient things, their air of homelike +comfort,--it was all so vivid, so present to her memory, that her +heart beat and thrilled, as the breast of a nursing mother thrills and +beats for her longing babe. + +She had told no one she was coming; for, the determination made, she +knew that she would reach home before the Dalton postman got the +letter to Seat-Ambar. The gig she had hired she left at the lower +garden gate; and then she walked quickly through the rose-alley up to +the front door. It stood open, and she heard a baby crying. How +strange the wailing notes sounded! She went forward, and opened the +parlour door; Alice was washing the child, and she turned with an +annoyed look to see the intruder. + +Of course the expression changed, but not quickly enough to prevent +Aspatria seeing that her visit was inopportune. Alice said afterward +that she did not recognize her sister-in-law, and, as Will met her +precisely as he would have met an entire stranger, Alice's excuse was +doubtless a valid one. There were abundant exclamations and rejoicings +when her identity was established, but Will could do nothing all the +evening but wonder over the changes that had taken place in his +sister. + +However, when the first joy of reunion is over, it is a prudent thing +not to try too far the welcome that is given to the home-comer who has +once left home. Will and Alice had grown to the idea that Aspatria +would never return to claim the room in Seat-Ambar which was hers +legally so long as she lived. It had been refurnished and was used as +a guest-room. Aspatria looked with dismay on the changes made. Her +very sampler had been sent away,--the bit of canvas made sacred by her +mother's fingers holding her own over it. She could remember the +instances connected with the formation of almost every letter of its +simple prayer,-- + + Jesus, permit thy gracious name to stand + As the first effort of my infant hand; + And, as my fingers on the sampler move, + Engage my tender heart to seek thy love. + With thy dear children may I have a part, + And write thy Name, thyself, upon my heart. + +And it was gone! She went into the lumber-room, and picked it out from +under a pile of old prints and shabbily framed certificates for prize +cattle. + +With a sad heart Aspatria regarded the other changes. Her little +tent-bed, with its white dimity curtains, had been given to baby's +nurse. The vase her father had bought her at Kendal fair was broken. +Her small mirror and dressing-table had been removed for a fine Psyche +in a gilded frame. Nothing, nothing was untouched, but the big +dower-chest into which she had flung her wretched wedding-clothes. She +stood silently before it, reflecting, with excusable ill-nature, that +neither Will nor Alice knew the secret of its spring. Her mother had +taught it to her, and that bit of knowledge she determined to keep to +herself. + +After some hesitation she tried the spring: it answered her pressure +at once; the lid flew back, and there lay the unhappy white satin +dress, the wreath, and veil, and slippers, just as she had tumbled +them in. The bitter hour came sharply back to her; she thought and +gazed, and thought and gazed, until she felt herself to be weeping. +Then she softly closed the lid, and, as she did so, a smile parted +her lips,--a smile that denied all that her tears said; a smile of +hope, of good presage, of coming happiness. + +She stayed only a week at Seat-Ambar, though she had originally +intended to remain until the harvest was over. The time was spent in +public festivity; every one in Allerdale was invited to give her a +fitting welcome. But the very formality of all this entertainment +pained her. It was, after all, only a cruel evidence that Will and +Alice did not care to take her into their real home-life. She would +rather have sat alone with them, and talked of their hopes and plans, +and been permitted to make friends of the babies. + +So far away, so far away as she had drifted in three years from the +absent living! Would the dead be kinder? She went to Aspatria Church +and sat down in her mother's seat, and let the strange spiritual +atmosphere which hovers in old churches fill her heart with its +supernatural influence. All around her were the graves of her +fore-elders, strong elemental men, simple God-loving women. Did they +know her? Did they care for her? Her soul looked with piteous entreaty +into the void behind it, but there was no answer; only that dreadful +silence of the dead, which presses upon the drum of the ear like +thunder. + +She went into the quiet yard around the church. The ancient, ancient +sun shone on the young grass. Over her mother's grave the sweet thyme +had grown luxuriantly. She rubbed her hands in it, and spread them +toward heaven with a prayer. Then peace came into her heart, and she +felt as if eyes, unseen heavenly eyes, rained happy influence upon +her. Thus it is that death imparts to life its most intense interest; +for, kneeling in his very presence, Aspatria forgot the mortality of +her parents, and did reverence to that within them which was eternal. + +She returned to London, and was a little disappointed there also. Mrs. +St. Alban had promised herself an absolute release from any outside +element. She felt Aspatria a trifle in the way, and, though far too +polite to show her annoyance, Aspatria by some similar instinct +divined it. That is the way always. When we plan for ourselves, all +our plans fail. Happy are they who learn early to let fate alone, and +never interfere with the Powers who hold the thread of their destiny! + +It was not until she had reached this mood, a kind of content +indifference, that her good genius could work for her. She then sent +Brune as her messenger, and Brune took his sister to meet her on +Richmond Hill. On their way thither they talked about Seat-Ambar, and +Will and Alice, until Aspatria suddenly noticed that Brune was not +listening to her. His eyes were fixed upon a lovely woman approaching +them. It was Sarah Sandys. Brune stood bareheaded to receive her +salutation. + +"I never should have known you, Lieutenant Anneys," she said, +extending her hand, and beaming like sunshine on the handsome officer, +"had not your colonel Jardine been in Richmond to-day. He is very +proud of you, sir, and said so many fine things of you that I am +ambitious to show him that we are old acquaintances. May I know, +through you, Mrs. Anneys also?" + +"This is my sister, Mrs. Sandys,--my sister--" Brune hesitated a +moment, and then said firmly, "Miss Anneys." + +Then Sarah insisted on taking them to her house to lunch; and there +she soon had them under her influence. She waited on them with +ravishing smiles and all sorts of pretty offices. She took them in her +handsome carriage to drive, she insisted on their remaining to dinner. +And before the drive was over, she had induced Aspatria to extend her +visit until the opening of Mrs. St. Alban's school. + +"We three are from the north country," she said, with an air of +relationship; "and how absurd for Miss Anneys to be alone at Mrs. St. +Alban's, where she is not wanted, and for me to be alone here, when I +desire her society so much!" + +Aspatria was much pleased to receive such a delightful invitation, and +a messenger was sent at once for her maid. Mrs. St. Alban was quite +ready to resign Aspatria, and the maid was as glad as her mistress to +leave the lonely mansion. In an hour or two she had removed Aspatria's +wardrobe, and was arranging the pleasant rooms Mrs. Sandys had placed +at her guest's disposal. + +Sarah was evidently bent on conquest. Her toilet was a marvellous +combination of some shining blue and white texture, mingled with pink +roses and gold ornaments. Her soft fair hair was loosened and curled, +and she had a childlike manner of being carelessly happy. Brune sat at +her right hand; she talked to him in smiles and glances, and gave her +words to Aspatria. She was determined to please both sister and +brother, and she succeeded. Aspatria thought she had never in all her +life seen a woman so lovable, so amusing, so individual. + +Brune was naturally shy and silent among women. Sarah made him +eloquent, because she had the tact to discover the subject on which +he could talk,--his regiment, and its sayings and doings. So Brune was +delighted with himself; he had never before suspected how clever he +was. Stimulated by Sarah's and Aspatria's laughter and curiosity, he +found it easy to retail funny little bits of palace and mess gossip, +and to describe the queer men and the vain men and the fine fellows +that were his familiars. + +"And pray how do you amuse yourself, Lieutenant? Do you drink wine, +and gamble, and go to the races, and bet your purse empty?" + +"I was never brought up in such ways," Brune answered, "and, I can +tell you, I wouldn't make believe to like them. There are a good many +dalesmen in my company, and none of us enjoy anything more than a fair +throw or an in-lock." + +"A throw or an in-lock! What do you mean, Lieutenant? You must explain +yourself to Miss Anneys and myself." + +"Aspatria knows well enough. Did you ever see north-country lads +wrestling, madam? No? Then you have as fine a thing in keeping for +your eyes as human creatures can show you. I'll warrant that! Why-a! +wrestling brings all men to their level. When Colonel Jardine is +ugly-tempered, and top-heavy with his authority, a few sound throws +over Timothy Sutcliffe's head does bring him to level very well. I had +a little in-play with him yesterday; for in the wrestling-ring we be +all equals, though out of it he is my colonel." + +"Now for the in-play. Tell me about it, for I see Miss Anneys is not +at all interested." + +"Colonel Jardine is a fine wrestler; a fair match he would be even for +brother Will. Yesterday he said he could throw me; and I took the +challenge willingly. So we shook hands, and went squarely for the +throw. I was in good luck, and soon got my head under his right arm, +and his head close down to my left side. Then it was only to get my +right arm up to his shoulder, and lift him as high as my head, and, +when so, lean backward and throw him over my head: we call it the +Flying Horse." + +"Oh, I can see it very well. No wonder Rosalind fell in love with +Orlando when he threw the wrestler Charles." + +"Were they north-country or Cornish men?" + +She was far too kindly and polite to smile; indeed, she gave Aspatria +a pretty, imperative glance, and answered, in the most natural manner, +"I think they were Italians." + +"Oh!" said Brune, with some contempt. "Chaff on their ways! The +Devonshire wrestlers are brutal; the Cornish are too slow; but the +Cumberland men wrestle like gentlemen. They meet square and level in +the ring, and the one who could carry ill-will for a fair throw would +very soon find himself out of all rings and all good fellowship." + +"You said 'even brother Will.' Is your brother a better wrestler than +you?" + +"My song! he is that! Will has his match, though. We had a ploughman +once,--Aspatria remembers him,--Robert Steadman, an upright, muscular +young fellow, civil and respectful as could be in everything about his +work and place; but on wet days when we were all, masters and +servants, in the barn together, it was a sight to see Robert wrestling +with Will for the mastery, and Will never so ready to say, 'Well +done!' nor the rest of us so happy, as when we saw Will's two brawny +legs going handsomely over Robert's head." + +"If I were a man, I should try to be a fine wrestler." + +"It is a great comfort," said Brune. "If you have a quarrel of any +kind, it is a deal more satisfactory to meet your man, and throw him a +few times over your head, than to go to law with him. It puts a stop +to unpleasantness very quickly and very good-naturedly." + +Then Sarah rose and opened the piano, and from its keys dashed out a +lilting, hurrying melody, like the galloping of horses and shaking of +bridles; and in a few moments she began to sing, and Brune went to +her side, and, because she looked so steadily into his eyes, he could +remember nothing at all of the song but its dashing refrain,-- + + "For he whom I wed + Must be north country bred, + And must carry me back to the North Countrie." + +Then Aspatria played some wonderful music on her harp, and Sarah and +Brune sat still and listened to their own hearts, and sent out shy +glances, and caught each other in the act, and Brune was made nervous, +and Sarah gay, by the circumstance. + +By and by they began to talk of schools, and of how much Aspatria had +learned; and so Brune regretted his own ignorance, and wished he had +been more attentive to his schoolmaster. + +Sarah laughed at the wish. "A knowledge of Shakspeare and the musical +glasses and the Della Cruscans," she said, "is for foolish, +sentimental women. You can wrestle, and you can fight, and I suppose +you can make money, and perhaps even make love. Is there anything else +a soldier needs?" + +"Colonel Jardine is very clever," continued Brune, regretfully; "and I +had a good schoolmaster--" + +"Nonsense, Lieutenant!" said Sarah. "None of them are good. They all +spoil your eyes, and seek to lay a curse on you; that is the confusion +of languages." + +"Still, I might have learned Latin." + +"It was the speech of pagans and infidels." + +"Or logic." + +"Logic hath nothing to say in a good cause." + +"Or philosophy." + +"Philosophy is curiosity. Socrates was very properly put to death for +it." + +They were all laughing together, when Sarah condemned Socrates, and +the evening passed like a happy dream away. + +It was succeeded by weeks of the same delight. Aspatria soon learned +to love Sarah. She had never before had a woman friend on whom she +could rely and to whom she could open her heart. Sarah induced her to +speak of Ulfar, to tell her all her suffering and her plans and hopes, +and she gave her in return a true affection and a most sincere +sympathy. Nothing of the past that referred to Ulfar was left untold; +and as the two women sat together during the long summer days, they +grew very near to each other, and there was but one mind and one +desire between them. + +So that when the time came for Aspatria to go back to Mrs. St. +Alban's, Sarah would not hear of their separation. "You have had +enough of book-learning," she said. "Remain with me. We will go to +Paris, to Rome, to Vienna. We will study through travel and society. +It is by rubbing yourself against all kinds of men and women that you +acquire the finest polish of life; and then when Ulfar comes back you +will be able to meet him upon all civilized grounds. And as for the +South Americans, we will buy all the books about them we can find. +Are they red or white or black, I wonder? Are they pagans or +Christians? I seem to remember that when I was at school I learned +that the Peruvians worshipped the sun." + +"I think, Sarah, that they are all descendants of Spaniards; so they +must be Roman Catholics. And I have read that their women are +beautiful and witty." + +"My dear Aspatria, nothing goes with Spaniards but gravity and green +olives." + +Aspatria was easily persuaded to accept Sarah's offer; she was indeed +very happy in the prospect before her. But Brune was miserable. He had +spent a rapturous summer, and it was to end without harvest, or the +promise thereof. He could not endure the prospect, and one night he +made a movement so decided that Sarah was compelled to set him back a +little. + +"Were you ever in love, Mrs. Sandys?" poor Brune asked, with his heart +filling his mouth. + +She looked thoughtfully at him a moment, and then slowly answered: "I +once felt myself in danger, and I fled to France. I consider it the +finest action of my life." + +Aspatria felt sorry for her brother, and she said warmly: "I think no +one falls in love now. Love is out of date." + +Sarah enjoyed her temper. "You are right, dear," she answered. +"Culture makes love a conscious operation. When women are all feeling, +they fall in love; when they have intellect and will, they attach +themselves only after a critical examination of the object." + +Later, when they were alone, Aspatria took her friend to task for her +cruelty: "You know Brune loves you, Sarah; and you do love him. Why +make him miserable? Has he presumed too far?" + +"No, indeed! He is as adoring and humble as one could wish a future +lord and master to be." + +"Well, then?" + +"I will give our love time to grow. When we come back, if Brune has +been true to me in every way, he may fall to blessing himself with +both hands;" and then she began to sing,-- + + "Betide, betide, whatever betide, + Love shall be Lord of Sandy-Side!" + +"Love is a burden two hearts carry very easily together, but, oh, +Sarah! I know how hard it is to bear it alone. Therefore I say, be +kind to Brune while you can." + +"My dear, your idea is a very pretty one. I read the other day a Hindu +version of it that smelled charmingly of the soil,-- + + 'A clapping is not made with one hand alone: + Your love, my beloved, must answer my own.'" + +But in spite of such reflections, Sarah's will and intellect were +predominant, and she left poor Brune with only such hope as he could +glean from the lingering pressure of her hand and the tears in her +eyes. Aspatria's pleading had done no good. Perhaps it had done harm; +for the very nature of love is that it should be spontaneous. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +"A ROSE OF A HUNDRED LEAVES." + + +One morning in spring Aspatria stood in a balcony overlooking the +principal thoroughfare of Rome,--the Rome of papal government, +mythical, mystical, mediæval in its character. A procession of friars +had just passed; a handsome boy was crying violets; some musical +puppets were performing in the shadow of the opposite palace; a +party of brigands were going to the Angelo prison; the spirit of Cæsar +was still abroad in the black-browed men and women, lounging and +laughing in their gaudy, picturesque costumes; and the spirit of +ecclesiasticism lifted itself above every earthly object, and +touched proudly the bells of a thousand churches. Aspatria was +weary of all. + +She had that morning an imperative nostalgia. She could see nothing +but the mountains of Cumberland, and the white sheep wandering about +their green sides. Through the church-bells she heard the sheep-bells. +Above the boy crying violets she heard the boy whistling in the +fresh-ploughed furrow. As for the violets, she knew how the wild ones +were blowing in Ambar wood, and how in the garden the daffodil-beds +were aglow, and the sweet thyme humbling itself at their feet, because +each bore a chalice. Oh for a breath from the mountains and the sea! +The hot Roman streets, with their ever-changing human elements of +sorrow and mirth, sin and prayer, riches and poverty, made her sad +and weary. + +Sarah came toward her with a letter in her hand. "Ria," she said, +"this is from Lady Redware. Your husband will be in England very +shortly." + +It was the first time Sarah had ever called Ulfar Aspatria's husband. +In conversation the two women had always spoken of him as "Ulfar." The +change was significant. It implied that Sarah thought the time had +come for Aspatria to act decisively. + +"I shall be delighted to go back to England. We have been twenty +months away, Sarah. I was just feeling as if it were twenty years." + +Sarah looked critically at the woman who was going to cast her last +die for love. She was so entirely different from the girl who had +first won that love, how was it possible for her to recapture the +same sweet, faithless emotion? She had a swift memory of the slim +girl in the plain black frock whom she had seen sitting under the +whin-bushes. And then she glanced at Aspatria standing under the +blue-and-red awning of the Roman palace. She was now twenty-six +years old, and in the very glory of her womanhood, tall, superbly +formed, graceful, calm, and benignant. Her face was luminous with +intellect and feeling, her manner that of a woman high-bred and +familiar with the world. Culture had done all for her that the +lapidary does for the diamond; travel and social advantages had +added to the gem a golden setting. She was so little like the +sorrowful child whom Ulfar had last seen in the vicar's meadow that +Sarah felt instantaneous recognition to be almost impossible. + +After some hesitation, Aspatria agreed to accept Sarah's plan and wait +in Richmond the development of events. At first she had been strongly +in favour of a return to Seat-Ambar. "If Ulfar really wants to see +me," she said, "he will be most likely to seek me there." + +"But then, Ria, he may think he does not want to see you. Men never +know what they really do want. You have to give them 'leadings.' If +Ulfar can look on you now and have no curiosity about your identity, I +should say the man was not worth a speculation from any point. See if +you have hold sufficient on his memory to pique his curiosity. If you +have, lead him wherever you wish." + +"But how? And where?" + +"Do I carry a divining-cup, Ria? Can I foresee the probabilities of a +man so impossible as Ulfar Fenwick? I only know that Richmond is a +good place to watch events from." + +And of course the Richmond house suited Brune. His love had grown to +the utmost of Sarah's expectations, and he was no longer to be put off +with smiles and pleasant words. Sarah had promised him an answer when +she returned, and he claimed it with a passionate persistence that had +finally something imperative in it. To this mood Sarah succumbed; +though she declared that Brune had chosen the morning of all others +most inconvenient for her. She was just leaving the house. She was +going to London about her jewels. Brune had arrested the coachman by a +peremptory movement, and he looked as if he were quite prepared to +lift Sarah out of the carriage. + +So Aspatria went alone. She was glad of the swift movement in the +fresh air, she was glad that she could be quiet and let it blow +passively upon her. The restlessness of watching had made her +feverish. She had the "strait" of a strong mind which longs to meet +her destiny. For her love for her husband had grown steadily with her +efforts to be worthy of that love, and she longed to meet him face to +face and try the power of her personality over him. The trial did not +frighten her; she felt within her the ability to accomplish it; her +feet were on a level with her task; she was the height of a woman +above it. + +Musing on this subject, letting her mind shoot to and fro like a +shuttle between the past and the present, she reached Piccadilly, and +entered a large jeweller's shop. The proprietor was talking to a +gentleman who was exhibiting a number of uncut gems. Aspatria knew him +instantly. It was Ulfar Fenwick,--the same Ulfar, older, and yet +distinctly handsomer. For the dark hair slightly whitened, and the +thin, worn cheeks, had an intensely human aspect. She saw that he had +suffered; that the sum of life was on his face,--toil, difficulty, +endurance, mind, and also that pathetic sadness which tells of +endurance without avail. + +She went to the extreme end of the counter, and began to examine the +jewels which Sarah had sent to be reset. Some were finished; others +were waiting for the selection of a particular style, and Aspatria +looked critically at the models shown her. The occupation gave her an +opportunity to calm and consider herself; she could look at the jewels +a few moments without expressing an opinion. + +Then she gave, in a clear, distinct voice, some order regarding a +pearl necklace; and Ulfar turned like a flash, and looked at the +woman who had spoken. She had the pearls in one hand; the other +touched a satin cushion on which lay many ornaments of diamonds, +sapphires, and rubies. The moonlight iridescence of the pearls, the +sparkling glory of the gems, seemed to be a part of her noble beauty. +He forgot his own treasures, and stood looking at the woman whose +voice had called to him out of the past, had penetrated his heart like +a bell struck sharply in its innermost room. Who was it? Where had +they met before? He knew the face. He knew, and yet he did not know, +the whole charming personality. As she turned, his eyes met her eyes, +and the pure pallor of her cheeks was flooded with crimson. + +She passed him within touch; the rustle of her garments, their faint +perfume, the simple sense of her nearness, thrilled his being +wondrously. And, above all, that sense of familiarity! What could it +mean? He gave the stones into the jeweller's care, and hurriedly +followed her steps. + +"That is Sarah Sandys's carriage, my barony for it!" he exclaimed; +"and the men are in the Sandys livery. Sarah, then, is in Richmond; +and the woman who rides in her carriage is very likely in her house; +but who can it be?" + +The face haunted him, the voice tormented him like a melody that we +continually try to catch. He endeavoured to place both as he rode out +to Richmond. More than once the thought of Aspatria came to him, but +he could not make any memory of her fit that splendid vision of the +woman with uplifted hand and the string of pearls dropping from it. +Her exquisite face, between the beauty of their reflection and the +flashing of the gems beneath, retained in his memory a kind of glory. +"Such loveliness is the proper setting for pearls and diamonds," he +said. "Many a beauty I have seen, but none that can touch the heel of +her shoe." + +For he really thought that it was her personal charms which had so +moved him. It was the sense of familiarity; it was in a far deeper +and dimmer way a presentiment of right, of possession, a feeling of +personal touch in the emotion, which perplexed and stimulated him as +the mere mystery and beauty of the flesh could never have done. + +As soon as he reached the top of Richmond Hill he saw Sarah. She was +sauntering along that loveliest of cliffs, with Brune. An orderly was +leading Brune's horse; he himself was in the first ecstasy of Sarah's +acknowledged love. Ulfar went into the Star and Garter Inn and watched +Sarah. He had no claim upon her, and yet he felt as if she had been +false to him. "And for a mere soldier!" Then he looked critically at +the soldier, and said, with some contempt: "I am sorry for him! Sarah +Sandys will have her pastime, and then say, 'Farewell, good sir!'" As +for the mere soldier being Brune Anneys, that was a thought out of +Ulfar's horizon. + +In a couple of hours he went to Sarah's. She met him with real +delight. + +"You are just five years lovelier, Sarah," he said. + +"Admiration from Sir Ulfar Fenwick is admiration indeed!" + +"Yes; I say you are beautiful, though I have just seen the most +bewitching woman that ever blessed my eyes,--in your carriage too." +And then, swift as light or thought, there flashed across his mind a +conviction that the Beauty and Aspatria were identical. It was a +momentary intelligence; he grasped it merely as a clew that might lead +him somewhere. + +"In my carriage? I dare say it was Ria. She went to Piccadilly this +morning about some jewels." + +"She reminded me of Aspatria." + +"Have you brought back with you that old trouble? I have no mind to +hear more of it." + +"Who is the lady I saw this morning?" + +"She is the sister of the man I am going to marry. In four months she +will be my sister." + +"What is her name?" + +"That is to tell you my secret, sir." + +"I saw you throwing your enchantments over some soldier. I knew just +how the poor fellow felt." + +"Then you also have been in Arcadia. Be thankful for your past +blessings. I do not expect you to rejoice with me; none of the +apostolic precepts are so hard as that which bids us rejoice with +those who do rejoice." + +"Neither Elizabeth nor you have ever named Aspatria in your letters." + +"Did you expect us to change guard over Ambar-Side? I dare say +Aspatria has grown into a buxom, rosy-cheeked woman and quite +forgotten you." + +"I must go and see her." + +"I think you ought. Also, you should give her her freedom. I consider +your behaviour a dog-in-the-manger atrocity." + +"Can you not pick nicer words, Sarah?" + +"I would not if I could." + +"Sarah, tell me truly, have I lost my good looks?" + +She regarded him attentively a moment, and answered: "Not quite. You +have some good points yet. You have grown thin and gray, and lost +something, and perhaps gained something; but you are not very old, and +then, you know, you have your title, and your castle, and your very +old, old family, and I suppose a good deal of money." In reality, she +was sure that he had never before been so attractive; for he had now +the magic of a countenance informed by intellect and experience, eyes +brimming with light, lips neither loose nor coarse, yet full of +passion and the faculty of enjoyment. + +He smiled grimly at Sarah's list of his charms, and said, "When will +you introduce me to your future sister?" + +"This evening. Come about nine. I have a few sober people who will be +delighted to hear your South American adventures. Ria goes to Lady +Chester's ball soon after nine. Do not miss your chance." + +"Could I see her now?" + +"You could not." + +"What for?" + +"Do you suppose she would leave a _modiste_ for--you?" + +"I wonder where Aspatria is!" + +"Go and find out." + +"Sarah, who is the young lady I saw in your carriage?" + +"She is the sister of the officer you saw me with, the man I am going +to marry." + +"Where did you meet him?" + +"At a friend's house." + +"Where did you meet her?" + +"Her brother brought her to my house. I asked her to stay with me, and +finally we went to Italy together." + +"She has a very aristocratic manner." + +"She ought to have. She was educated at Mrs. St. Alban's, and she +visits at the Earl of Arundel's, the Duke of Norfolk's, and the very +exclusive Boleyns',--Lady Mary Boleyn is her friend, and she has also +had the great advantage of my society for nearly two years." + +"Then of course she is not Aspatria, and my heart is a liar, and my +memory is a traitor, and my eyes do not see correctly. I will call +about nine. I am at the Star and Garter. If she should name me at +all--" + +"Do you imagine she noticed you? and in such a public place as +Howell's?" + +"I really do imagine she noticed me. Ask her." + +"I see you are in love again. After all that experience has done for +you! It is a Nemesis, Ulfar. I have often noticed that, however +faithless a man may be, there comes at last one woman who avenges all +the rest. Enter Nemesis at nine to-night!" + +"Sarah, you are an angel." + +"Thank you, Ulfar. I thought you classed me with the other side." + +"As for Aspatria--" + +"Life is too short to discuss Aspatria. I remember one day at Redware +being sharply requested to keep silence on that subject. The wheel of +retribution has made a perfect circle as regards Aspatria! I shall +certainly tell Ria that you have made her the heroine of your +disagreeable matrimonial romance." + +"No, no, Sarah! Do not say a word to her. I must wait until nine, I +suppose? And I am so anxious and so fearful, Sarah." + +"You must wait until nine. And as for the rest, I know very well that +in the present age a lover's cares and fears have + + Dwindled to the smallest span. + +Do go to your hotel, and get clothed and in your right mind. You are +most unbecomingly dressed. Good-by, old friend, good-by!" And she left +him with an elaborate courtesy. + +Ulfar was now in a vortex. Things went around and around in his +consciousness; and whenever he endeavoured to examine events with his +reason, then feeling advanced some unsupported conviction, and threw +him back into the same senseless whirl of emotion. + +He had failed to catch the point which would have given him the clew +to the whole mystery,--the identity of Brune with the splendidly +accoutred officer Sarah avowed to be her intended husband. Without +taking special note of him, Ulfar had seen certain signs of +birth, breeding, and assured position. In his mind there was a +great gulf between the haughty-looking soldier and the simple, +handsome, but rather boorish-looking young Squire of Ambar-Side. +The two individualities were as far apart in social claims as +the north and south poles are apart physically. + +And if this beautiful woman were indeed Aspatria, how could he +reconcile the fact with her education at St. Alban's, her friendship +with such exalted families, her relationship to an officer of evident +birth and position? When he thought thus, he acknowledged the +impossibility; but then no sooner had he acknowledged it than his +heart passionately denied the deduction, with the simple iteration, +"It is Aspatria! It is Aspatria!" + +Aspatria or not, he told himself that he was at last genuinely in +love. Every affair before was tame, pale, uninteresting. If it was not +Aspatria, then the first Aspatria was the shadow of the second and +real one; the preface to love's glorious tale; the prelude to his +song; the gray, sweet dawn to his perfect day. He could not eat, nor +sit still, nor think reasonably, nor yet stop thinking. The sun stood +still; the minutes were hours; at four o'clock he wished to fling the +timepiece out of the window. + +Aspatria had the immense strength of certainty. She knew. Also, she +had Sarah to advise with. Still better, she had the conviction that +Ulfar loved her. Perhaps Sarah had exaggerated Ulfar's desperate +condition; if so, she had done it consciously, for she knew that as +soon as a woman is sure of her power she puts on an authority which +commands it. She was now only afraid that Ulfar would not be kept in +suspense long enough, that Aspatria would forgive him too easily. + +"Do make yourself as puzzling as you can, for this one night, +Aspatria," she urged. "Try to outvie and outdo and even affront that +dove-like simplicity he used to adore in you, and into which you are +still apt to relapse. He told me once that you looked like a Quakeress +when he first saw you." + +"I was just home from Miss Gilpin's school in Kendal. It was a Quaker +school. I have always kept a black gown ready, like the one he saw me +first in." + +"No black gown to-night. I have a mind to stay here and see that you +turn the Quakeress into a princess." + +"I will do all you wish. To-night you shall have your way; but poor +Ulfar must have suffered, and--" + +"Poor Ulfar, indeed! Be merry; that is the best armour against love. +What ruins women? Revery and sentimentality. A woman who does not +laugh ought to be watched." + +But though she lectured and advised Aspatria as to the ways of men and +the ways of love, Sarah had not much faith in her own counsels. "No +one can draw out a programme for a woman's happiness," she mused; "she +will not keep to its lines. Now, I do wonder whether she will dress +gorgeously or not? What did Solomon in all his glory wear? If Aspatria +only knew how dress catches a man's eye, and then touches his vanity, +and then sets fire to his imagination, and finally, somehow, someway, +gets to his heart! If she only knew,-- + + 'All thoughts, all passions, all delights, + Whatever stirs this mortal frame, + Are but the ministers of Love, + And feed his sacred flame!'" + +A little before nine, Ulfar entered Sarah's drawing-room. It was +lighted with wax candles. It was sweet with fresh violets, and at the +farther end Aspatria stood by her harp. She was dressed for Lady +Chester's ball, and was waiting her chaperon; but there had been a +little rebellion against her leaving without giving her admirers one +song. Every person was suggesting his or her favourite; and she stood +smiling, uncertain, listening, watching, for one voice and face. + +Her dazzling bodice was clasped with emeralds; her draperies were of +damasked gauze, shot with gold and silver, and abloom with flowers. +Her fair neck sparkled with diamonds; and the long white fingers which +touched the strings so firmly glinted with flashing gems. The moment +Ulfar entered, she saw him. His eyes, full of fiery prescience, forced +her to meet their inquiry; and then it was that she sat down and +filled the room with tinkling notes, that made every one remember the +mountains, and the merry racing of the spring winds, and the trickling +of half-hidden fountains. + +Sarah advanced with him. She touched Aspatria slightly, and said: +"Hush! a moment. This is my friend Sir Ulfar Fenwick, Ria." + +Ria lifted her eyes sweetly to his eyes; she bowed with the grace and +benignity of a queen, and adroitly avoided speech by turning the +melody into song:-- + + "I never shall forget + The mountain maid that once I met + By the cold river's side. + I met her on the mountain-side; + She watched her herds unnoticed there: + 'Trim-bodiced maiden, hail!' I cried. + She answered, 'Whither, Wanderer? + For thou hast lost thy way.'" + +Every word went to Ulfar's heart, and amid all the soft cries of +delight he alone was silent. She was beaming with smiles; she was +radiant as a goddess; the light seemed to vanish from the room when +she went away. Her adieu was a general one, excepting to Ulfar. On +him she turned her bright eyes, and courtesied low with one upward +glance. It set his heart on fire. He knew that glance. They might say +this or that, they might lie to him neck-deep, he knew it was +Aspatria! He was cross with Sarah. He accused her of downright +deception. He told her frankly that he believed nothing about the +soldier and his sister. + +She bade him come in the morning and talk to Ria; and he asked +impetuously: "How soon? Twelve, I suppose? How am I to pass the time +until twelve to-morrow?" + +"Why this haste?" + +"Why this deception?" + +"After seven years' indifference, are you suddenly gone mad?" + +"I feel as if I was being very badly used." + +"How does the real Aspatria feel? Go at once to Ambar-Side." + +"The real Aspatria is here. I know it! I feel it!" + +"In a court of law, what evidence would feeling be?" + +"In a court of love--" + +"Try it." + +"I will, to-morrow, at ten o'clock." + +His impetuosity pleased her. She was disposed to leave him to Aspatria +now. And Aspatria was disposed on the following morning to make his +confession very easy to him. She dressed herself in the simple black +gown she had kept ready for this event. It had the short elbow +sleeves, and the ruffle round the open throat, and the daffodil +against her snowy breast, that distinguished the first costume he had +ever seen her in. She loosened her hair and let it fall in two long +braids behind her ears. She was, as far as dress could make her so, +the Aspatria who had held the light to welcome him to Ambar-Side that +stormy night ten years ago. + +He was standing in the middle of the room, restless and expectant, +when she opened the door. He called her by name, and went to meet her. +She trembled and was silent. + +"Aspatria, it is you! My Life! My Soul! It is you!" + +He took her hands; they were as cold as ice. He drew her close to his +side; he stooped to see her eyes; he whispered word upon word of +affection,--sweet-meaning nouns and adjectives that caught a real +physical heat from the impatient heart and tongue that forged and +uttered them. + +"Forgive me, my dearest! Forgive me fully! Forgive me at once and +altogether! Aspatria, I love you! I love none but you! I will adore +you all my life! Speak one word to me, one word, my love, one word: +say only 'Ulfar!'" + +She forgot in a moment all that she had suffered. She forgot all she +had promised Sarah, all her intents of coldness, all reproaches; she +forgot even to forgive him. She just put her arms around his neck and +kissed him. She blotted out the past forever in that one whispered +word, "Ulfar." + +And then he took her to his heart; he kissed her for very wonder; he +kissed her for very joy; but most of all he kissed her for fervent +love. Then once more life was an "Interlude in Heaven." Every hour +held some sweet surprise, some accidental joy. It was Brune, it was +Sarah, it was some eulogium of Ulfar in the great London weeklies. He +had fought in the good fight for freedom; he had done great deeds of +mercy as well as of valour; he had crossed primeval forests, and +brought back wonderful medicines, and dyes, and many new specimens for +the botanist and the naturalist. The papers were never weary in +praising his pluck, his bravery, his generosity, and his endurance; +the Geographical Society sent him its coveted blue ribbon. In his own +way Ulfar had made himself a fit mate for the new Aspatria. + +And she was a constant wonder to him. Nothing in all his strange +experience touched his heart like the thought of his simple, patient +wife, studying to please him, to be worthy of his love. Every day +revealed her in some new and charming light. She was one hundred +Aspatrias in a single, lovable, lovely woman. On what ever subject +Ulfar spoke, she understood, supplemented, sympathized with, or +assisted him. She could talk in French and Italian; she was not +ignorant of botany and natural science, and she was delighted to be +his pupil. + +In a single month they became all the world to each other; and then +they began to long for the lonely old castle fronting the wild North +Sea, to plan for its restoration, and for a sweet home-life, which +alone could satisfy the thirst of their hearts for each other's +presence. At the end of June they went northward. + +It was the month of the rose, and the hedges were pink, and the garden +was a garden of roses. There were banks of roses, mazes of roses, +walks and standards of roses, masses of glorious colour, and breezes +scented with roses. Butterflies were chasing one another among the +flowers; nightingales, languid with love, were singing softly above +them. And in the midst was a gray old castle, flying its old border +flags, and looking as happy as if it were at a festival. + +Aspatria was enraptured, spellbound with delight. With Ulfar she +wandered from one beauty to another, until they finally reached a +great standard of pale-pink roses. Their loveliness was beyond +compare; their scent went to the brain like some divine essence. It +was a glory,--a prayer,--a song of joy! Aspatria stood beside it, and +seemed to Ulfar but its mortal manifestation. She was clothed in a +gown of pale-pink brocade, with a little mantle of the same, trimmed +with white lace, and a bonnet of white lace and pink roses. She was a +perfect rose of womanhood. She was the glory of his life, his prayer, +his song of joy! + +"It is the loveliest place in the world!" he said, "and you! you are +the loveliest woman! My sweet Aspatria!" + +She smiled divinely. "And yet," she answered, "I remember, Ulfar, a +song of yours that said something very different. Listen:-- + + 'There is a rose of a hundred leaves, + _But the wild rose is the sweetest_!'" + +And as she sang the words, Ulfar had a vision of a young girl, fresh +and pure as a mountain bluebell, in her scrimp black frock. He saw the +wind blowing it tight over her virgin form; he saw her fair, childish, +troubled face as she kissed him farewell in the vicar's meadows; and +then he saw the glorious woman, nobly planned, perfect on every side, +that the child wife had grown to. + +So, when she ceased, he pulled the fairest rose on the tree; he took +from it every thorn, he put it in her breast, he kissed the rose, and +he kissed her rose-like face. Then he took up the song where she +dropped it; and hand in hand, keeping time to its melody, they crossed +the threshold of their blessed home. + + "The robin sang beneath the eaves: + 'There is a rose of a hundred leaves, + _But the wild rose is the sweetest_!' + + "The nightingale made answer clear: + '_O darling rose! more fair, more dear! + O rose of a hundred leaves_!'" + + +THE END. + + * * * * * + +Transcriber Notes + +Archaic spelling preserved, including pottle and alterative. + +Passages in italics indicated by _underscores_. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Rose of a Hundred Leaves, by +Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ROSE OF A HUNDRED LEAVES *** + +***** This file should be named 33599-8.txt or 33599-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/5/9/33599/ + +Produced by Katherine Ward and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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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Barr, a Project Gutenberg eBook</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; text-indent: 0; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + + .center, .center p {text-align: center;} + .figright {padding: .5em 0 0 .5em; float: right; width: auto; clear: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: 0.25em; text-decoration: none; background-color: #DDD; font-size: .9em;} + .larger {font-size: large;} + .nowrap {white-space: nowrap;} + .padtop {margin-top: 2em;} + .sig1 {display: block; padding-right: 8em; text-align: right;} + .sig2 {display: block; padding-right: 5em; text-align: right;} + .sig3 {display: block; padding-right: 1em; padding-top:.25em; text-align: right;} + .smaller {font-size: small;} + .trnote {background-color: #EEE; color: inherit; margin: 2em 5% 1em 5%; font-size: small; padding: 0.5em 1em 0.5em 1em; border: dotted 1px gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + ins {text-decoration: none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + pre {font-size: 0.7em; clear: both;} + + .chsp {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em;} + .chsub {font-size: .8em;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center; width: auto;} + .figleft {padding: .5em .5em 0 0; float: left; width: auto;} + .figtag {height: 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + div.poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + div.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em;} + div.poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + div.poem p.indent2 {padding-left:3.8em;} + div.poem p.indent4 {padding-left:4.6em;} + hr.toprule {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + td.chalgn {text-align:right; margin-top:0; padding-right:1em;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Rose of a Hundred Leaves, by +Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +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: A Rose of a Hundred Leaves + A Love Story + +Author: Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +Release Date: September 1, 2010 [EBook #33599] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ROSE OF A HUNDRED LEAVES *** + + + + +Produced by Katherine Ward and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt="A Rose of a Hundred Leaves Cover" title='' width='484' height='500' /> +<br /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<h1>A ROSE<br /> +<span class='smaller smcap'>OF A</span><br /> +HUNDRED LEAVES</h1> +<p class='padtop'><b>A Love Story</b></p> +<p>BY<br /> +AMELIA E. BARR</p> +<p class='smaller'>AUTHOR OF “FRIEND OLIVIA,” “THE BOW OF ORANGE +RIBBON,” “JAN VEDDER’S WIFE,” ETC.</p> +<p class='padtop'>NEW YORK<br /> +DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY<br /> +1891</p> +<p><i>Copyright, 1891</i>,<br /> +<span class='smcap'>By J. B. Lippincott Company.</span></p> +<p><i>Copyright, 1891</i>,<br /> +<span class='smcap'>By Dodd, Mead and Company.</span></p> +<p><i>All rights reserved.</i></p> +<p class='padtop'><b>University Press</b>:<br /> +<span class='smcap'>John Wilson and Son, Cambridge.</span></p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0008.jpg' alt="Portrait of a Lady" title='' width='432' height='600' /> +<br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='CONTENTS' id='CONTENTS'></a> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> +</div> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'><span class="smaller">CHAPTER</span></td> + <td> </td> + <td valign='top' align='right'><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>The Wild Rose is the Sweetest</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_THE_WILD_ROSE_IS_THE_SWEETEST'>9</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Forgive me, Christ!</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_FORGIVE_ME_CHRIST'>35</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>Only Brother Will</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_ONLY_BROTHER_WILL'>77</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>For Mother’s Sake</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_FOR_MOTHERS_SAKE'>113</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>But they were Young</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_BUT_THEY_WERE_YOUNG'>151</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>“Love shall be Lord of Sandy-Side”</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_LOVE_SHALL_BE_LORD_OF_SANDYSIDE'>180</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII.</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span class='smcap'>“A Rose of a Hundred Leaves”</span></td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_A_ROSE_OF_A_HUNDRED_LEAVES'>208</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_THE_WILD_ROSE_IS_THE_SWEETEST' id='CHAPTER_I_THE_WILD_ROSE_IS_THE_SWEETEST'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I. +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />THE WILD ROSE IS THE SWEETEST.</span></h2> +</div> +<p>I tell again the oldest +and the newest story +of all the world,—the +story of Invincible +Love!</p> +<p>This tale divine—ancient +as the beginning +of things, fresh and +young as the passing +hour—has forms and +names various as humanity. +The story of +Aspatria Anneys is but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +one of these,—one leaf from all the roses +in the world, one note of all its myriad +of songs.</p> +<div class='figleft' style='width:232px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0013.jpg' alt='' title='' width='232' height='315' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>Aspatria was born</span> at Seat-Ambar, an +old house in Allerdale. It had Skiddaw +to shelter it on the northwest; and it +looked boldly out across the Solway, and +into that sequestered valley in Furness +known as “the Vale of the Deadly +Nightshade.” The plant still grew there +abundantly, and the villagers still kept +the knowledge of its medical value taught +them by the old monks of Furness. For +these curious, patient herbalists had discovered +the blessing hidden in the fair, +poisonous amaryllis, long before modern +physicians called it “belladonna.”</p> +<p>The plant, with all its lovely relations, +had settled in the garden at Seat-Ambar. +Aspatria’s mother had loved them all: +the girl could still remember her thin +white hands clasping the golden jonquils +in her coffin. This memory was in her +heart, as she hastened through the lonely +place one evening in spring. It ought to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +have been a pleasant spot, for it was full +of snowdrops and daffodils, and many +sweet old-fashioned shrubs and flowers; +but it was a stormy night, and the blossoms +were plashed and downcast, and all +the birds in hiding from the fierce wind +and driving rain.</p> +<p>She was glad to get out of the gray, +wet, shivery atmosphere, and to come into +the large hall, ruddy and glowing with fire +and candle-light. Her brothers William +and Brune sat at the table. Will was +counting money; it stood in small gold +and silver pillars before him. Brune was +making fishing-flies. Both looked up at +her entrance; they did not think words +necessary for such a little maid. Yet +both loved her; she was their only sister, +and both gave her the respect to which +she was entitled as co-heir with them of +the Ambar estate.</p> +<p>She was just sixteen, and not yet beautiful. +She was too young for beauty. Her +form was not developed; she would probably +gain two or three inches in height; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +and her face, though exquisitely modelled, +wanted the refining which comes either +from a multitude of complex emotions or +is given at once by some great heart-sorrow. +Yet she had fascination for those +capable of feeling her charm. Her large +brown eyes had their childlike clearness; +they looked every one in the face with its +security of good-will. Her mouth was a +tempting mouth; the lips had not lost +their bow-shape; they were red and pouting, +but withal ever ready to part. She +might have been born with a smile. Her +hair, soft and dark, had that rarest quality +of soft hair,—a tendency to make itself into +little curls and tendrils and stray down +the white throat and over the white brow; +yet it was carefully parted and confined +in two long braids, tied at the ends with +a black ribbon.</p> +<p>She wore a black dress. It was plainly +made, and its broad ruffle around the open +throat gave it an air of simplicity almost +childlike in effect. Her arms below the +elbows were uncovered, and her hands +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +were small and finely formed, as patrician +hands should be. There was no ring +upon them, and no bracelet above them. +She wore neither brooch nor locket, nor +ornament of any kind about her person; +only a daffodil laid against the snowy skin +of her bosom. Even this effect was not +the result of coquetry; it was a holy and +loving sentiment materialized.</p> +<p>Altogether, she was a girl quite in keeping +with the antique, homelike air of the +handsome room she entered; her look, +her manner, and even her speech had the +local stamp; she was evidently a daughter +of the land. Her brothers resembled her +after their masculine fashion. They were +big men, whom nature had built for the +spaces of the moors and mountains and +the wide entrances of these old Cumberland +homes. They would have been +pushed to pass through narrow city doorways. +A fine open-air colour was in their +faces; they had that confident manner +which great physical strength imparts, and +that air of conscious pride which is born +in lords of the soil.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span></div> +<p>Indeed, William and Brune Anneys +made one understand how truthfully popular +nomenclature has called an Englishman +“John Bull.” For whoever has seen a +bull in its native pastures—proud, obstinate, +conscious of his strength, and withal +a little surly—must understand that there +is a taurine basis to the English character, +finely expressed by the national +appellation.</p> +<p>A great thing was to happen that hour, +and all three were as unconscious of the +approaching fate as if it was to be a part +of another existence. Squire William finished +his accounts, and played a game of +chess with his brother. Aspatria walked +up and down the hall, with her hands +clasped behind her, or sat still in the +Squire’s hearth-chair, with her dress lifted +a little in front, to let the pleasant heat +fall upon her ankles. She did not think +of reading or of sewing, or of improving +the time in any way. Perhaps she was +not as dependent on books as the women +of this generation. Aspatria’s mind was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +sensitive and observing; it lived very well +on its own ideas.</p> +<p>The storm increased in violence; the +rain beat against the windows, and the +wind howled at the nail-studded oak door, +as if it intended to blow it down. A big +ploughman entered the room, shyly pulled +his front hair, and looked with stolid inquiry +into his master’s face. The Squire +pushed aside the chess-board, rose, and +went to the hearth-stone; for he was young +in his authority, and he felt himself on +the hearth-stone to hold an impregnable +position.</p> +<p>“Well, Steve Bell, what is it?”</p> +<p>“Be I to sow the high land next, sir?”</p> +<p>“If you can have a face or back wind, +it will be best; if you have an elbow-wind, +you must give the land an extra half-bushel.”</p> +<p>“Be I to sow mother-of-corn<a name='FNanchor_0001' id='FNanchor_0001'></a><a href='#Footnote_0001' class='fnanchor'>[1]</a> on the +east holme?”</p> +<div class='footnote'><a name='Footnote_0001' id='Footnote_0001'></a><a href='#FNanchor_0001'><span class='label'>[1]</span></a> +<p>Clover.</p> +</div> +<p>“It is matterless. Is it going to be a +flashy spring?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></div> +<div class='figright' style='width:324px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0020.jpg' alt='' title='' width='324' height='430' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>“A right season,</span> sir,—plenty +of manger-meat.”</p> +<p>“How is the weather?”</p> +<p>“The rain is near past; it will +take up at midnight.”</p> +<p>As he spoke, Aspatria, +who had +been sitting with +folded hands and +half-shut eyes, +straightened herself +suddenly, +and threw up her +head to listen. +There was certainly +the tramp +of a horse’s feet, +and in a moment +the door was +loudly and impatiently +struck +with the metal +handle of a riding-whip.</p> +<p>Steve Bell went to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +answer the summons; Brune trailed slowly +after him. Aspatria and the Squire heard +nothing on the hearth but a human voice +blown about and away by the wind. But +Steve’s reply was distinct enough,—</p> +<p>“You be wanting Redware Hall, sir? +Cush! it’s unsensible to try for it. The +hills are slape as ice; the becks are full; +the moss will make a mouthful of you—horse +and man—to-night.”</p> +<p>The Squire went forward, and Aspatria +also. Aspatria lifted a candle, and carried +it high in her hand. That was the first +glimpse of her that Sir Ulfar Fenwick +had.</p> +<p>“You must stay at Seat-Ambar to-night,” +said William Anneys. “You cannot +go farther and be sure of your life. +You are welcome here heartily, sir.”</p> +<p>The traveller dismounted, gave his horse +to Steve, and with words of gratitude +came out of the rain and darkness into the +light and comfort of the home opened to +him. “I am Ulfar Fenwick,” he said,—“Fenwick +of Fenwick and Outerby; and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +I think you must be William Anneys of +Ambar-Side.”</p> +<p>“The same, sir. This is my brother +Brune, and my sister Aspatria. You are +dreeping wet, sir. Come to my room and +change your clothing.”</p> +<p>Sir Ulfar bowed and smiled assent; and +the bow and the smile were Aspatria’s. +Her cheeks burned; a strange new life +was in all her veins. She hurried the +housekeeper and the servants, and she +brought out the silver and the damask, +and the famous crystal cup in its stand of +gold, which was the lucky bowl of Ambar-Side. +When Fenwick came back to the +hall, there was a feast spread for him; and +he ate and drank, and charmed every +one with his fine manner and his witty +conversation.</p> +<p>They sat until midnight,—an hour +strange to Seat-Ambar. No one native in +that house had ever seen it before, no one +ever felt its mysterious influence. Sir +Ulfar had been charming them with tales +of the strange lands he had visited, and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +strange peoples who dwelt in them. He +had not spoken much to Aspatria, but it +was in her face he had found inspiration +and sympathy. For her young eyes +looked out with such eager interest, with +glances so seeking, so without guile and +misgiving, that their bright rays found a +corner in his heart into which no woman +had ever before penetrated. And she was +equally subjugated by his more modern +orbs,—orbs with that steely point of brilliant +light, generated by large experience +and varied emotion,—electric orbs, such +as never shone in the elder world.</p> +<p>When the clock struck twelve, Squire +Anneys rose with amazement. “Why, it +is strike of midnight!” he said. “It is +past all, how the hours have flown! But +we mustn’t put off sleeping-time any +longer. Good-night heartily to you, sir. +It will be many a long day till I forget this +night. What doings you have seen, sir!”</p> +<p>He was talking thus to his guest, as he +led him to the guest-room. Aspatria still +stood by the dying fire. Brune rose +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +silently, stretched his big arms, and said: +“I’ll be going likewise. You had best +remember the time of +night, Aspatria.”</p> +<div class='figleft' style='width:260px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_5' id='linki_5'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0024.jpg' alt='' title='' width='260' height='472' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>“What do you</span> think +of him, Brune?”</p> +<p>“Fenwick! I wouldn’t +think too high of him. +One might have to come +down a peg or two. He +sets a good deal of store by +himself, I should say.”</p> +<p>“You and I are of two ways +of judging, Brune.”</p> +<p>“Never mind; time will let +light into all our ways of +judging.”</p> +<p>He went yawning upstairs and +Aspatria slowly followed. She was not +a bit sleepy. She was wider awake +than she had ever been before. Her +hands quivered like a swallow’s wings; +her face was rosy and luminous. She +removed her clothing, and unbraided her +hair and shook it loose over her slim +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +shoulders. There was a smile on her lips +through all these preparations for sleep,—a +smile innocent and glad. Suddenly +she lifted the candle and carried it to the +mirror. She desired to look at herself, +and she blushed deeply as she gratified +the wish. Was she fair enough to please +this wonderful stranger?</p> +<p>It was the first time such a query had +ever come to her heart. She was inclined +to answer it honestly. Holding the light +slightly above her head, she examined her +claims to his regard. Her expressive face, +her starry eyes, her crimson, pouting lips, +her long dark hair, her slight, virginal +figure in its gown of white muslin scantily +trimmed with English thread-lace, her +small, bare feet, her air of childlike, curious +happiness,—all these things, taken +together, pleased and satisfied her desires, +though she knew not how or why.</p> +<p>Then she composed herself with intentional +earnestness. She must “say her +prayers.” As yet it was only saying prayers +with Aspatria,—only a holy habit. A +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +large Book of Common Prayer stood open +against an oaken rest on a table; a cushion +of black velvet was beneath it. Ere she +knelt, she reflected that it was very late, +and that her Collect and Lord’s Prayer +would be sufficient. Youth has such confidence +in the sympathy of God. She +dropped softly on her knees and said her +portion. God would understand the rest. +The little ceremony soothed her, as a +mother’s kiss might have done; and with +a happy sigh she put out the light. The +old house was dark and still, but her +guardian angel saw her small hands loose +lying on the snowy linen, and heard her +whisper, “Dear God! how happy I am!” +And this joyous orison was the acceptable +prayer that left the smile of peace upon +her sleeping face.</p> +<p>In the guest-chamber Ulfar Fenwick +was also holding a session with himself. +He had come to his room very wide +awake; midnight was an early hour to +him. And the incidents he had been telling +filled his mind with images of the past. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +He could not at once put them aside. +Women he had loved and left visited his +memory,—light loves of a season, in which +both had declared themselves broken-hearted +at parting, and both had known +that they would very soon forget. Neither +was much to blame: the maid had long +ceased to remember his vows and kisses; +he, in some cases, had forgotten her name. +Yet, sitting there by the glowing oak logs, +he had visions of fair faces in all kinds of +surroundings,—in lighted halls, in moon-lit +groves under the great stars of the +tropics, on the Shetland seas when the +aurora made for lovers an enchanted atmosphere +and a light in which beauty was +glorified. Well, they had passed as April +passes, and now,—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>As a glimpse of a burnt-out ember</p> +<p class='indent2'>Recalls a regret of the sun,</p> +<p>He remembered, forgot, and remembered</p> +<p class='indent2'>What love saw done and undone.</p> +</div></div> +<p>Aspatria was different from all. He +whispered her strange name on his lips, +and he thought it must have wandered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +from some sunny southern clime into these +northern solitudes. His eyes shone; his +heart beat. He said to it: “Make room +for this innocent little one! What a darling +she is! How clear, how candid, how +beautiful! Oh, to be loved by such a +woman! Oh, to kiss her!—to feel her +kiss me!” He set his mouth tightly; the +soft dreamy look in his face changed to +one of purpose and pleasure.</p> +<p>“I shall win her, or die for it,” he said. +“By Saint George! I would rather die than +know that any other man had married her.”</p> +<p>Yet the thought of marriage somewhat +sobered him. “I should have to give up +my voyage to the Spanish Colonies,—and +I am very much interested in their struggle. +I could not take her to Mexico, I suppose,—there +is nothing but fighting there; +and I could not—no, I could not leave +her. If she were mine, I should hate to +have any one else breathe the same air with +her. I could not endure that others should +speak to her. I should want to strike any +man who touched her hand. Perhaps I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +had better go away in the morning, and +ride this road no more. I have made my +plans.”</p> +<p>And fate had made other plans. Who +can fight against his destiny? When he +saw Aspatria in the morning, every plan +that did not include her seemed unworthy +of his consideration. She was ten times +lovelier in the daylight. She had that +fresh invincible charm which women of +culture and intellect seldom have: she +was inspired by her heart. It taught her +a thousand delightful subjugating ways. +She served his breakfast with her own fair +hands; she offered him the first sweet +flowers in the garden; she fluttered around +his necessities, his desires, his intentions, +with a grace and a kindness nothing but +love could have taught her.</p> +<p>He thanked her with marvellous glances, +with smiles, with single words dropped +only for her ears, with all the potent eloquence +which passion and experience +teach. And he had to pay the price, as +all men must do. The lesson he taught +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +he also learned. “Aspatria!” he +said, in soft, penetrating accents; +and when she answered his +call and +came to his side, +her dress trailing +across his feet bewitched +him. They +were in the garden, +and he clasped her +hand, and went down +the budding alleys +with her, speechless, but gazing +into her face until she dropped +her tremulous, transparent lids before +her eyes; they were too full of +light and love to show to any mortal.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:420px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_6' id='linki_6'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0030.jpg' alt='' title='' width='420' height='541' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>The sky was</span> white and blue, the air +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +fresh and sweet; the swallows had just +come, and were chattering with the starlings; +hundreds of daffodils “danced in +the wind” and lighted the ground at their +feet; troops of celandines starred the +brook that babbled by the bee-skips; the +southernwood, the wall-flower, the budding +thyme and sweet-brier,—a thousand exhalations +filled the air and intensified that +intoxication of heart and senses which +makes the first stage of love’s fever +delirious.</p> +<p>Fenwick went away in the afternoon, +and his adieus were mostly made to the +Squire. He had done his best to win his +favour, and he had been successful. He +left Seat-Ambar under an engagement to +return soon and try his skill in wrestling +and pole-leaping with Brune. Aspatria +knew he would return: a voice which +Fenwick’s voice only echoed told her so. +She watched him from her own window +across the meadows, and up the mountain, +until he was lost to her vision.</p> +<p>She was doubtless very much in love, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +though as yet she had not admitted the +fact to herself. The experience had come +with a really shocking swiftness. Her +heart was half angry and half abashed by +its instantaneous surrender. Two circumstances +had promoted this condition. +First, the singular charm of the man. +Ulfar Fenwick was unlike any one she had +ever seen. The squires and gentlemen +who came to Seat-Ambar were physically +the finest fellows in England, but noble +women look for something more than +mere bulk in a man. Sir Ulfar Fenwick +had this something more. Culture, travel, +great experience with women, had added to +his heroic form a charm flesh and sinew +alone could never compass. And if he had +lacked all other physical advantages, he +possessed eyes which had been filled to +the brim with experiences of every kind,—gray +eyes with pure, full lids thickly +fringed,—eyes always lustrous, sometimes +piercingly bright. Secondly, Aspatria had +no knowledge which helped her to ward +off attack or protract surrender. In a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +multitude of lovers +there is safety; but +Fenwick was Aspatria’s +first lover.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_7' id='linki_7'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0033.jpg' alt='' title='' width='431' height='464' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>He rode hard, as +if he would ride from +fate. Perhaps he +hoped at this early +stage of feeling to do as he had often +done before,—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>To love—and then ride away.</p> +</div></div> +<p>He had also a fresh, pressing anxiety to +see his sister, who was Lady of Redware +Manor. Seven years—and much besides +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +years—had passed since they met. She +was his only sister, and ten years his +senior. She loved him as mothers love, +unquestioningly, with miraculous excuses +for all his shortcomings. She had been +watching for his arrival many hours before +he appeared.</p> +<p>“Ulfar! how welcome you are!” she +cried, with tears in her eyes and her voice. +“Oh, my dear! how happy I am to see +you once more!”</p> +<p>She might have been his only love, he +kissed and embraced and kissed her again +so fondly. Oh, wondrous tie of blood +and kinship! At that moment there really +seemed to Ulfar Fenwick no one in the +whole world half so dear as his sister +Elizabeth.</p> +<p>He told her he had lost his way in the +storm and been detained by Squire Anneys; +and she praised the Squire, and +said that she would evermore love him +for his kindness. “I met him once, at +the Election Ball in Kendal. He danced +with me; ‘we neighbour each other,’ you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +see; and they are a grand old family, I +can tell you.”</p> +<p>“There is a younger brother, called +Brune.”</p> +<p>“I never saw him.”</p> +<p>“A sister also,—a child yet, but very +handsome. You ought to see her.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“You would like her. I do.”</p> +<p>“Ulfar, there is a ‘thus far’ in everything. +In your wooing and pursuing, +the line lies south of Seat-Ambar. To +wrong a woman of that house would be +wicked and dangerous.”</p> +<p>“Why should I wrong her? I have no +intention to do so. I say she is a lovely +lady, a great beauty, worthy of honest +love and supreme devotion.”</p> +<p>“Such a rant about love and beauty! +Nine tenths of the men who talk in this +way do but blaspheme Love by taking his +name in vain.”</p> +<p>“However, Elizabeth, it is marriage or +the Spanish colonies for me. It is Miss +Anneys, or Cuba, New Orleans, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +Mexico. Santa Anna is a supreme villain; +I have a fancy to see such a specimen.”</p> +<p>“You are then between the devil and +the deep sea; and I should say that the +one-legged Spaniard was preferable to the +deep sea of matrimony.”</p> +<p>“She is so fair! She has a virgin timidity +that enchants me.”</p> +<p>“It will become matronly indecision, or +mental weakness of will. In the future it +will drive you frantic.”</p> +<p>“Her sweet sensibility—”</p> +<p>“Will crystallize into passionate irritation +or callous opposition. These childlike, +tender, clinging maidens are often +capable of sudden and dangerous action. +Better go to Cuba, or even to Mexico, +Ulfar.”</p> +<p>“I suppose she has wealth. You will +admit that excellence?”</p> +<p>“She is co-heir with her brothers. She +may have two thousand pounds a year. +You cannot afford to marry a girl so +poor.”</p> +<p>“I have not yet come to regard a large +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +sum of money as a kind of virtue, or the +want of it as a crime.”</p> +<p>“Your wife ought to represent you. +How can this country-girl help you in the +society to which you belong?”</p> +<p>“Society! What is society? In its +elemental verity it means toil, weariness, +loss of rest and health, useless expense, +envy, disappointment, heart-burnings,—all +for the sake of exchanging entertainments +with A and B, C and D. It means +chaff instead of wheat.”</p> +<p>“If you want to be happy, Ulfar, put +this girl out of your mind. I am sure her +brothers will oppose your suit. They will +not let their sister leave Allerdale. No +Anneys has ever done so.”</p> +<p>“You have strengthened my fancy, +Elizabeth. There is a deal of happiness +in the idea of prevailing, of getting the +mastery, of putting hindrances out of +the way.”</p> +<p>“Well, I have given you good advice.”</p> +<p>“There are many ‘counsels of perfection’ +nobody dreams of following. To +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +advise a man in love not to love, is one +of them.”</p> +<p>“Love!” she cried scornfully. “Before +you make such a fuss about the +Spanish Colonies and their new-found +freedom, free yourself, Ulfar! You have +been a slave to some woman all your life. +You are one of those men who are naturally +not their own property. A child can +turn you hither and thither; a simple +country girl can lead you.”</p> +<p>He laughed softly, and murmured,—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“There is a rose of a hundred leaves,</p> +<p>But the wild rose is the sweetest.”</p> +</div></div> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_FORGIVE_ME_CHRIST' id='CHAPTER_II_FORGIVE_ME_CHRIST'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II. +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />FORGIVE ME, CHRIST!</span></h2> +</div> +<p>The ultimatum reached by Fenwick in +the consideration of any subject was, to +please himself. In the case of Aspatria +Anneys he was particularly determined to +do so. It was in vain Lady Redware entreated +him to be rational. How could he +be rational? It was the preponderance of +the emotional over the rational in his +nature which imparted so strong a personality +to him. He grasped all circumstances +by feeling rather than by reason.</p> +<p>In a few days he was again at Seat-Ambar. +Aspatria drew him, as the candle +draws the moth which has once burned +its wings at it. And among the simple +Anneys folk he found a hearty welcome. +With Squire William he travelled the hills, +and counted the flocks, and speculated on +the value of the iron-ore cropping out of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +the ground. With Brune he went line-fishing, +and in the wide barns tried his +skill in wrestling or pole-leaping or single-stick. +He tolerated the rusticity of +the life, for the charming moments he +found with Aspatria.</p> +<p>No one like Ulfar Fenwick had ever +visited Ambar-Side. To the young men, +who read nothing but the Gentleman’s +Magazine and the Whitehaven Herald, +and to Aspatria, who had but a volume +of the Ladies’ Garden Manual, Notable +Things, her Bible and Common Prayer, +Fenwick was a book of travel, song, and +story, of strange adventures, of odd bits +of knowledge, and funny experiences. +Things old and new fell from his handsome +lips. Squire William and Brune +heard them with grave attention, with delight +and laughter; Aspatria with eyes full +of wonder and admiration.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:340px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_8' id='linki_8'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0041.jpg' alt='' title='' width='340' height='446' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>As the season</span> advanced and they grew +more familiar, Aspatria was thrown naturally +into his society. The Squire was in +the hay-field; Brune had his task there +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +also. Or they were down at the Long +Pool, washing the sheep, or on the fells, +shearing them. In the haymaking, Aspatria +and +Fenwick made +some pretence of +assistance; but they both +very soon wearied of the real +labour. Aspatria would toss a few +furrows of the warm, sweet grass; +but it was much sweeter to sit down +under the oak-tree with Fenwick at her +side, and watch the moving picture, and +listen to the women singing in their +high shrill voices, as they turned the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +swaths, the Song of the Mower, and the +men mournfully shouting out the chorus +to it,—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“We be all like grass! We be all like grass!”</p> +</div></div> +<p>As for the oak, it liked them to sit under +it; all its leaves talked to each other about +them. The starlings, though they are +always in a hurry, stopped to look at the +lovers, and went off with a Q-q-q of satisfaction. +The crows, who are a bad lot, +croaked innuendoes, and said it was to be +hoped that evil would not come of such +folly. But Aspatria and Fenwick listened +only to each other; they saw the whole +round world in each other’s eyes.</p> +<p>Fenwick spoke very low; Aspatria had +to droop her ear to his mouth to understand +his words. And they were such +delightful words, she could not bear to +lose one of them. Then, as the sun grew +warm, and the scent of the grass filled the +soft air, and the haymakers were more and +more subdued and quiet, heavenly languors +stole over them. They sat hand in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +hand,—Aspatria sometimes with shut eyes +humming to herself, sometimes dreamily +pulling the long grass at her side; Fenwick +mostly silent, yet often whispering +those words which are single because they +are too sweet to be double,—“Darling! +Dearest! Angel!” and the words drew +her eyes to his eyes, drew her lips to his +lips; ere she was aware, her heart had +passed from her in long, loving, stolen +kisses. On the fells, in the garden, in +the empty, silent rooms of the old house, +it was a repetition of the same divine +song, with wondrously celestial variations. +Goethe puts in Faust an Interlude in +Heaven: Fenwick and Aspatria were in +their Interlude.</p> +<p>One evening they stood among the +wheat-sheaves. The round, yellow harvest-moon +was just rising above the fells, +and the stars trembling into vision. The +reapers had gone away; their voices made +faint, fitful echoes down the misty lane. +The Squire was driving home one load of +ripe wheat, and Brune another. Aspatria +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +said softly, “The day is over. We must +go home. Come!”</p> +<p>She stood in the warm mystical light, +with one hand upon the bound sheaf, the +other stretched out to him. Her slim +form in its white dress, her upturned face, +her star-like eyes,—he saw all at a glance. +He was subjugated to the innermost room +of his heart. He answered, with inexpressible +emotion,—</p> +<p>“Come! Come to me, my Dear One! +My Love! My Joy! My Wife!” He +held her close to his heart; he claimed +her by no formal special yes, but by all +the sweet reluctances and sweeter yieldings, +the thousand nameless consents won +day by day.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span></div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_9' id='linki_9'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0045.jpg' alt='' title='' width='380' height='600' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>Oh, the glory of that homeward walk! +The moon beamed upon them. The trees +bent down to touch them. The heath +and the honeysuckle made a posy for +them. The nightingale sang them a canticle. +They did not seem to walk; they +trod on ether; they moved as people +move in happy dreams of other stars, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +where thought and wish are motion. It +would have been heaven upon earth if +those minutes could have lasted; but it +was only an interlude.</p> +<p>That night Fenwick spoke to Squire +William and asked him for his sister. The +Squire was honestly confounded by the +question. Aspatria was such a little lass! +It was beyond everything to talk of marrying +her. Still, in his heart he was proud +and pleased at such high fortune for the +little lass; and he said, as soon as Fenwick’s +father and family came forward as +they should do, he would never be the one +to say nay.</p> +<p>Fenwick’s father lived at Fenwick Castle, +on the shore of bleak Northumberland. +He was an old man, but his natural +feelings and wisdom were not abated. He +consulted the History of Cumberland, and +found that the family of Ambar-Anneys +was as ancient and honourable as his own. +But the girl was country-bred, and her +fortune was small, and in a measure dependent +upon her brother’s management +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +of the estate. A careless +master of Ambar-Side +would make Aspatria +poor. While +he was considering +these +things, Lady +Redware arrived +at the +castle, and they talked +over the matter together.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:338px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_10' id='linki_10'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0047.jpg' alt='' title='' width='338' height='600' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>“I expected Ulfar</span> to marry very +differently, and I must say I am disappointed. +But I suppose it will be useless +to make any opposition, Elizabeth,” the +old man said to his daughter.</p> +<p>“Quite useless, father. But absence +works miracles. Try to secure +twelve months. You ought +to go to a warm climate +this winter; ask Ulfar +to take you to Italy. +In a year time may +re-shuffle the cards. +And you must write to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +girl, and to her eldest brother, who is a +fine fellow and as proud as Lucifer. I +called upon them before I left Cumberland. +She is very handsome.”</p> +<p>“Handsome! Old men know, Elizabeth, +that six months after a man is married, +it makes little difference to him +whether his wife is handsome or not.”</p> +<p>“That may be, or it may not be, father. +The thing to consider is, that young men +unfortunately persist in marrying for that +first six months.”</p> +<p>“Well, then, fortune pilots many a ship +not steered. Suppose we leave things to +circumstances?”</p> +<p>“No, no! Human affairs are for the +most part arranged in such a way that +those turn out best to which most care +is devoted.”</p> +<p>So the letters were thoughtfully written; +the one to Aspatria being of a paternal +character, that to her brother polite and +complimentary. To his son Ulfar the old +baronet made a very clever appeal. He +reminded him of his great age, and of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +few opportunities left for showing his affection +and obedience. He regretted the +necessity for a residence in Italy during +the winter, but trusted to his son’s love to +see him through the experience. He congratulated +Ulfar on winning the love of a +young girl so fresh and unspoiled by the +world, but kindly insisted upon the wisdom +of a little delay, and the great benefit this +delay would be to himself.</p> +<p>It was altogether a very temperate, wise +letter, appealing to the best side of Ulfar’s +nature. Squire William read it also, and +gave it his most emphatic approval. He +was in no hurry to lose his little sister. +She was but a child yet, and knew nothing +of the world she was going into; and +“surely to goodness,” he said, looking at +the child, “she will have a lot of things +to look after, before she can think of +wedding.”</p> +<p>This last conjecture touched Aspatria +on a very womanly point. Of course there +were all her “things” to get ready. She +had never possessed more than a few +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +frocks at a time, and those of the simplest +character; but she was quite alive to the +necessity of an elaborate wardrobe, and +she had also an instinctive sense of what +would be proper for her position.</p> +<p>So the suggestions of Ulfar’s father were +accepted in their entirety, and the old +gentleman was put into a very good temper +by the fact. And what was a year? +“It will pass like a dream,” said Ulfar. +“And I shall write constantly to you, and +you will write to me; and when we meet +again it will be to part no more.” Oh, +the poverty of words in such straits as +these! Men say the same things in the +same extremities now that have been said +millions of times before them. And Aspatria +felt as if there ought to have been +entirely new words, to express the joy of +their betrothal and the sorrow of their +parting.</p> +<p>The short delay of a last week together +was perhaps a mistake. A very young +girl, to whom great joy and great sorrow +are alike fresh experiences, may afford a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +prolonged luxury of the emotions of parting. +Love, more worldly-wise, deprecates +its demonstrativeness, and would avert it +altogether. The farewell walks, the sentimental +souvenirs, the pretty and petty devices +of love’s first dream, are tiresome to +more practised lovers; and Ulfar had often +proved what very cobwebs they were to +bind a straying fancy.</p> +<p>“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” +Perhaps so, if the last memory be an altogether +charming one. It was, unfortunately, +not so in Aspatria’s case. It should +have been a closely personal farewell with +Ulfar alone; but Squire Anneys, in his +hospitable ignorance, gave it a public character. +Several neighbouring squires and +dames came to breakfast. There was cup-drinking, +and toasting, and speech-making; +and Ulfar’s last glimpse of his betrothed +was of her standing in the wide porch, surrounded +by a waving, jubilant crowd of +strangers, whose intermeddling in his joy +he deeply resented. Anneys had invited +them in accord with the traditions of his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +house and order. Fenwick thought it was +a device to make stronger his engagement +to Aspatria.</p> +<p>“As if it needed such contrivances!” +he muttered angrily. “When it does, it is +a broken thread, and no Anneys can knot +it again.”</p> +<p>The weeks that followed were full of +new interests to Aspatria. Mistress Frostham, +the wife of a near shepherd-lord, had +been the friend of Aspatria’s mother; she +was fairly conversant with the world outside +the fells and dales, and she took the +girl under her care, accompanied her to +Whitehaven, and directed her in the purchase +of all considered necessary for the +wife of Ulfar Fenwick.</p> +<p>Then the deep snows shut in Seat-Ambar, +and the great white hills stood +round about it like fortifications. But as +often as it was possible the Dalton postman +fought his way up there, with his +packet of accumulated mail; for he knew +that a warm welcome and a large reward +awaited him. In the main, the long same +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +days went happily by. William and Brune +had a score of resources for the season; +the farm-servants worked in the +barn; they were making and mending +sacks for the wheat, and caps +for the sheeps’ heads +in fly-time, +sharpening +scythes and +tools, doing the indoor +work of a +great farm, and +mostly singing as they +did it.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:459px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_11' id='linki_11'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0053.jpg' alt='' title='' width='459' height='555' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>As Aspatria sat</span> in her room, +surrounded by fine cambric and +linen and that exquisite English +thread-lace now gone out of fashion, she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +could hear their laughter and their song, +and she unconsciously set her stitches to +its march and melody. The days were +not long to her. So many dozens of garments +to make with her own slight fingers! +She had not a moment to waste, +but the necessity was one of the sweetest +delight. The solitude and secrecy of her +labour added to its charm. She never +took her sewing into the parlour. And yet +she might have done so: William and +Brune had a delicacy of affection for her +which would have made them blind to her +occupation and densely stupid as to its +design.</p> +<p>So, although the days were mostly alike, +they were not unhappily so; and at intervals +destiny sent her the surprises she +loved. One morning in the beginning of +February, Aspatria felt that the postman +ought to come; her heart presaged him. +The day was clear and warm,—so much +so, that the men working in the barn had +all the windows open. They were singing +in rousing tones the famous North Country +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +song to the barley-mow, and drinking it +through all its verses, out of the jolly +brown bowl, the nipperkin, the quarter-pint, +the quart and the pottle,—the gallon +and the anker,—the hogshead and the +pipe,—the well, and the river, and the +ocean,—and then rolling back the chorus, +from ocean to the jolly brown bowl. Suddenly, +while a dozen men were shouting in +unison,—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Here’s a health to the barley mow!”</p> +</div></div> +<p>the verse was broken by the cry of “Here +comes Ringham the postman!” Then +Aspatria ran to the window and saw him +climbing the fell. She did not like to go +downstairs until Will called her; but she +could not sew another stitch. And when +at last the aching silence in her ears was +filled by Will’s joyful “Come here, Aspatria! +Here is such a parcel as never +was,—from foreign parts too!” she hardly +knew how her feet twinkled down the long +corridor and stairs.</p> +<p>The parcel was from Rome. Ulfar had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +sent it to his London banker, and the +banker had sent a special messenger to +Dalton with it. Over the fells at that season +no one but Ringham could have found +a safe way; and Ringham was made so +welcome that he was quite imperious. He +ordered himself a rasher of bacon, and a +bowl of the famous barley broth, and +spread himself comfortably before the +great hearth-place. At the table stood +Aspatria, William, and Brune. Aspatria +was nervously trying to undo the seals and +cords that bound love’s message to her. +Will finally took his pocket-knife and cut +them. There was a long letter, and a box +containing exquisite ornaments of Roman +cameos,—precious onyx, made more +precious by work of rare artistic beauty, a +comb for her dark hair, a necklace for her +white throat, bracelets for her slender +wrists, a girdle of stones linked with gold +for her waist. Oh, how full of simple delight +she was! She was too happy to +speak. Then Will discovered a smaller +package. It was for himself and Brune. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +Will’s present was a cameo ring, on which +were engraved the Anneys and Fenwick +arms. Brune had a scarf-pin, representing +a lovely Hebe. It was a great day at +Seat-Ambar. Aspatria could work no +more; Will and Brune felt it impossible +to finish the game they had begun.</p> +<p>There is a tide in everything: this was +the spring-tide of Aspatria’s love. In its +overflowing she was happy for many a +day after her brothers had begun to speculate +and wonder why Ringham did not +come. Suddenly it struck her that the +snow was gone, and the road open, and +that there was no letter. She began to +worry, and Will quietly rode over to Dalton, +to ask if any letter was lying there. +He came back empty-handed, silent, and +a little surly. The anniversary of their +meeting was at hand: surely Ulfar would +remember it, so Aspatria thought, and she +watched from dawn to dark, but no token +of remembrance came. The flowers began +to bloom, the birds to sing, the May sunshine +flooded the earth with glory, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +fear and doubt and dismay and daily disappointment +made deepest, darkest winter +in the low, long room where Aspatria +watched and waited. Her sewing had +been thrown aside. The half-finished garments, +neatly folded, lay under a cover +she had no strength to remove.</p> +<p>In June she wrote a pitiful little note to +her lover. She said that he ought to tell +her, if he was tired of their engagement. +She told Will what she had said, and asked +him to post the letter. He answered +angrily, “Don’t you write a word to him, +good or bad!” And he tore the letter +into twenty pieces before her eyes.</p> +<p>“Oh, Will, I cannot bear it!”</p> +<p>“Thou art a woman: bear what other +women have tholed before thee.” Then +he went angrily from her presence. Brune +was thrumming on the window-pane. She +thought he looked sorry for her; she +touched his arm and said, “Brune, will +you take a letter to Dalton post for +me?”</p> +<p>“For sure I will. Go thy ways and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +write it, and I’ll be gone before Will is +back.”</p> +<p>It was an unfortunate letter, as letters +written in a hurry always are. Absolute +silence would have piqued and worried +Ulfar. He would have fancied her ill, +dying perhaps; and the uncertainty, vague +and portentous, would have prompted him +to action, if only to satisfy his own mind. +Sometimes he feared that a girl so sensitive +would fade away in neglect; and he +expected a letter from William Anneys +saying so. But a hurried, halting, not +very correct epistle, whose whole tenour +was, “What is the matter? What have I +done? Do you remember last year at +this time?” irritated him beyond reply.</p> +<p>He was still in Italy when it reached +him. Sir Thomas Fenwick was not likely +ever to return to England. He was slowly +dying, and he had been removed to a villa +in the Italian hills. And Elizabeth Redware +had a friend with her, a young widow +just come from Athens, who affected at +times its splendid picturesque national +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +costume. She was a very bright, handsome +woman, whose fine education had +been supplemented by travel, society, and +a rather unhappy matrimonial experience. +She knew how to pique and provoke, how +to flirt to the very edge of danger and +then sheer off, how to manipulate men +before the fire of passion, as witches used +to manipulate their waxen images before +the blazing coals.</p> +<p>She had easily won Ulfar’s confidence; +she had even assisted in the selection of +the cameos; and she declared to Elizabeth +that she would not for a whole world +interfere between Ulfar and his pretty +innocent! A natural woman was such a +phenomenon! She was glad Ulfar was +going to marry a phenomenon.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:293px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_12' id='linki_12'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0061.jpg' alt='' title='' width='293' height='373' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>Elizabeth knew</span> her better. She gave +the couple opportunity, and they needed +nothing more. There were already between +them a good understanding, transparent +secrets, little jokes, a confessed confidence. +They quickly became affectionate. +The lovely Sarah, relict of Herbert Sandys, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +Esq., not only reminded Ulfar of his vows +to Aspatria, but in the very reminder she +tempted him to break them. When Aspatria’s +letter was put into his hand, she +was with him, marvellously arrayed in +tissue of silver and brilliant colours. A +head-dress of gold coins glittered in her +fair braided hair; her long white arms +were shining with bracelets; she was at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +once languid and impulsive, provoking +Elizabeth and Ulfar to conversation, and +then amazing them by the audacity and +contradiction of her opinions.</p> +<p>“It is so fortunate,” she said, “that Ulfar +has found a little out-of-the-way girl to appreciate +his great beauty. The world at +present does not think much of masculine +beauty. A handsome fellow who starts for +any of its prizes is judged to be frivolous +and poetical, perhaps immoral: you see +Byron’s beauty made him unfit for a legislator, +he could do nothing but write poetry. +I should say it was Ulfar’s best card to +marry this innocent with the queer name: +with his face and figure, he will never get +into Parliament. No one would trust him +with taxes. He is born to make love, and +he and his country Phyllis can go simpering +and kissing through life together. If +I were interested in Ulfar——”</p> +<p>“You are interested in Ulfar, Sarah,” +interrupted Elizabeth. “You said so to +me last night.”</p> +<p>“Did I? Nevertheless, life does not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +give us time really to question ourselves, +and it is the infirmity of my nature to mistake +feeling for evidence.”</p> +<p>“You must not change your opinions +so quickly, Sarah.”</p> +<p>“It is often an element of success to +change your opinions. It is hesitating +among a variety of views that is fatal. +The man who does not know what he +wants is the man who is held cheap.”</p> +<p>“I am sure I know what I want, Sarah.” +And as he spoke, Ulfar looked with intelligence +at the fair widow, and in answer she +shot from her bright blue eyes a bolt of +summer lightning that set aflame at once +the emotional side of Ulfar’s nature.</p> +<p>“You say strange things, Sarah. I wish +it was possible to understand you.”</p> +<p>“‘Who shall read the interpretation +thereof?’ is written on everything we see, +especially on women.”</p> +<p>“I believe,” said Elizabeth, “that Ulfar +has quarrelled with his country maid. Is +there a quarrel, Ulfar, really?”</p> +<p>“No,” he answered, with some temper.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span></div> +<p>Sarah nodded at Ulfar, and said softly: +“The absent must be satisfied with the +second place. However, if you have quarrelled +with her, Ulfar, turn over a new +leaf. I found that out when poor Sandys +was alive. People who have to live together +must blot a leaf now and then with +their little tempers. The only thing is to +turn over a new one.”</p> +<p>“If anything unpleasant happens to +me,” said Ulfar, “I try to bury it.”</p> +<p>“You cannot do it. The past is a ghost +not to be laid; and a past which is buried +alive, it is terrible.” It was Sarah who +spoke, and with a sombre earnestness not +in keeping with her usual character. There +was a minute’s pregnant silence, and it was +broken by the entrance of a servant with +a letter. He gave it to Ulfar.</p> +<p>It was Aspatria’s sorrowful, questioning +note. Written while Brune waited, it was +badly written, incorrectly constructed and +spelled, and generally untidy. It had the +same effect upon Ulfar that a badly +dressed, untidy woman would have had. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +He was ashamed of the irregular, childish +scrawl. He did not take the trouble to +put himself in the atmosphere in which +the anxious, sorrowful words had been +written. He crushed the paper in his +hand with much the same contemptuous +temper with which Elizabeth had seen him +treat a dunning letter. She knew, however, +that this letter was from Aspatria, +and, saying something about her father, +she went into an adjoining room, and left +Ulfar and Sarah together. She thought +Sarah would be the proper alterative.</p> +<p>The first words Sir Thomas Fenwick +uttered regarded Aspatria. Turning his +head feebly, he asked: “Has Ulfar quarrelled +with Miss Anneys? I hear nothing +of her lately.”</p> +<p>“I think he is tired of his fancy for her. +There is no quarrel.”</p> +<p>“She was a good girl,—eh? Kindhearted, +beautiful,—eh, Elizabeth?”</p> +<p>“She certainly was.”</p> +<p>He said no more then; but at midnight, +when Ulfar was sitting beside him, he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +called his son, and spoke to him on the +subject. “I am going—almost gone—the +way of all flesh, Ulfar. Take heed of +my last words. You promised to make +Miss Anneys your wife,—eh?”</p> +<p>“I did, father.”</p> +<p>“Do not break your promise. If she +gives it back to you, that might be well; +but you cannot escape from your own +word and deed. Honour keeps the door of +the house of life. To break your word is +to set the door wide open,—open for +sorrow and evil of all kinds. Take care, +Ulfar.”</p> +<p>The next day he died, and one of Ulfar’s +first thoughts was that the death set him +free from his promise for one year at the +least. A year contained a multitude of +chances. He could afford to write to +Aspatria under such circumstances. So +he answered her letter at once, and it +seemed proper to be affectionate, preparatory +to reminding her that their marriage +was impossible until the mourning for Sir +Thomas was over. Also death had softened +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +his heart, and his father’s last words +had made him indeterminate and a little +superstitious. A clever woman of the +world would not have believed in this +letter; its <i>aura</i>—subtle but persistent, as +the perfume of the paper—would have +made her doubt its fondest lines. But +Aspatria had no idea other than that certain +words represented absolutely certain +feelings.</p> +<p>The letter made her joyful. It brought +back the roses to her cheeks, the spring +of motion to her steps. She began to +work in her room once more. Now and +then her brothers heard her singing the +old song she had sung so constantly with +Ulfar,—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“A shepherd in a shade his plaining made,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Of love, and lovers’ wrong,</p> +<p>Unto the fairest lass that trod on grass,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And thus began his song:</p> +<p>‘Restore, restore my heart again,</p> +<p>Which thy sweet looks have slain,</p> +<p>Lest that, enforced by your disdain, I sing,</p> +<p>Fye! fye on love! It is a foolish thing!</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>“‘Since love and fortune will, I honour still</p> +<p class='indent2'>Your dark and shining eye;</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span></p> +<p>What conquest will it be, sweet nymph, to thee,</p> +<p class='indent2'>If I for sorrow die?</p> +<p>Restore, restore my heart again,</p> +<p>Which thy sweet looks have slain,</p> +<p>Lest that, enforced by your disdain, I sing,</p> +<p>Fye! fye on love! It is a foolish thing!’”</p> +</div></div> +<p>But the lifting of the sorrow was only +that it might press more heavily. No +more letters came; no message of any +kind; none of the pretty love-gages he +delighted in giving during the first months +of their acquaintance. A gloom more +wretched than that of death or sickness +settled in the old rooms of Seat-Ambar. +William and Brune carried its shadow on +their broad, rosy faces into the hay-fields +and the wheat-fields. It darkened all the +summer days, and dulled all the usual +mirth-making of the ingathering feasts. +William was cross and taciturn. He loved +his sister with all his heart, but he did not +know how to sympathize with her. Even +mother-love, when in great anxiety, sometimes +wraps itself in this unreasonable +irritability. Brune understood better. He +had suffered from a love-change himself; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +he knew its ache and longing, its black +despairs and still more cruel hopes. He +was always on the lookout for Aspatria; +and one day he heard news which he +thought would +interest her. Lady Redware +was at the Hall. William +had heard it a week before, but +he had not considered it prudent to +name the fact. Brune had a kinder +intelligence.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_13' id='linki_13'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0069.jpg' alt='' title='' width='465' height='351' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>“Aspatria,” he said, “Redware Hall is +open again. I saw Lady Redware in the +village.”</p> +<p>“Brune! Oh, Brune, is he there too?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span></div> +<p>“No, he isn’t. I made sure of that.”</p> +<p>“Brune, I want to go to Redware. +Perhaps his sister may tell me the truth. +Go with me. Oh, Brune, go with me! I +am dying of suspense and uncertainty.”</p> +<p>“Ay, they’re fit to kill anybody, let +alone a little lass like you. It will put +William about, and it may make bad +bread between us; but I’ll go with you, +even if we do have a falling out. I’m not +flayed for William’s rages.”</p> +<p>The next market-day Brune kept his +word. As soon as Squire Anneys had +climbed the fell breast and passed over +the brow of the hill, Brune was at the door +with horses for Aspatria and himself. She +was a good rider, and they made the distance, +in spite of hills and hollows, in two +hours. Lady Redware was troubled at the +visit, but she came to the door to welcome +Aspatria, and she asked Brune with particular +warmth to come into the house with +his sister. Brune knew better; he was +sure in such a case that it would prove a +mere formal call, and that Aspatria would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +never have the courage to ask the questions +she wished to.</p> +<p>But Aspatria had come to that point of +mental suffering when she wanted to know +the truth, even though the truth was the +worst. Lady Redware saw the determination +on her face, and resolved to gratify it. +She was shocked at the change in Aspatria’s +appearance. Her beauty was, in a +measure, gone. Her eyes were hollow, +and the lids dark and swollen with weeping. +Her figure was more angular. The +dew of youth, the joy of youth, was over. +She drooped like a fading flower. If Ulfar +saw her in such condition he might pity, +but assuredly he would not admire her.</p> +<p>Lady Redware kissed the poor girl. +“Come in, my dear,” she said kindly. +“How ill you look! Here is wine: take +a drink.”</p> +<p>“I am ill. I even hope I am dying. +Life is so hard to bear. Ulfar has forgotten +me. I have vexed him, and cannot +find out in what way. If you would only +tell me!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span></div> +<p>“You have not vexed him at all.”</p> +<p>“What then?”</p> +<p>“He is tired, or he has seen a fresher +face. That is Ulfar’s great fault. He +loves too well, because he does not love +very long. Can you not forget him?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“You must have other lovers?”</p> +<p>“No. I never had a lover until Ulfar +wooed me. I will have none after him. +I shall love him until I die.”</p> +<p>“What folly!”</p> +<p>“Perhaps. I am only a foolish child. +If I had been wise and clever, he would +not have left me. It is my fault. Do you +believe he will ever come to Seat-Ambar +again?”</p> +<p>“I do not think he will. It is best to +tell you the truth. My dear, I am truly +sorry for you! Indeed I am, Aspatria!”</p> +<p>The girl had covered her face with her +thin white hands. Her attitude was so +hopeless that it brought the tears to Lady +Redware’s eyes. Hoping to divert her +attention, she said,—</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span></div> +<p>“Who called you Aspatria?”</p> +<p>“It was my mother’s name. She was +born in Aspatria, and she loved the place +very much.”</p> +<p>“Where is it, child? I never heard of +it.”</p> +<p>“Not far away, on the sea-coast,—a +little town that brother Will says has been +asleep for centuries. Such a pretty place, +straggling up the hillside, and looking +over the sea. Mother was born there, and +she is buried there, in the churchyard. +It is such an old church, one thousand +years old! Mother said it was built by +Saint Kentigern. I went there to pray +last week, by mother’s grave. I thought +she might hear me, and help me to bear +the suffering.”</p> +<p>“You poor child! It is shameful of +Ulfar!”</p> +<p>“He is not to blame. Will told me that +it was a poor woman who couldn’t keep +what she had won.”</p> +<p>“It was very brutal in Will to say such +a thing.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span></div> +<p>“He did not mean it unkindly. We are +plain-spoken people, Lady Redware. Tell +me, as plainly as Will would tell me, if +there is any hope for me. Does Ulfar love +me at all now?”</p> +<p>“I fear not.”</p> +<p>“Are you sure?”</p> +<p>“I am sure.”</p> +<p>“Thank you. Now I will go.” She +put out her hands before her, as if she was +blind and had to feel her way; and in +answer to all Lady Redware’s entreaties to +remain, to rest, to eat something, she only +shook her head, and stumbled forward. +Brune saw her coming. He was standing +by the horses, but he left them, and went +to meet his sister. Her misery was so visible +that he put her in the saddle with fear. +But she gathered the reins silently, and +motioned him to proceed; and Aspatria’s +last sad smile haunted Lady Redware for +many a day. Long afterward she recalled +it with a sharp gasp of pity and annoyance. +It was such a proud, sorrowful farewell.</p> +<p>She reached home, but it took the last +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +remnant of her strength. She was carried +to her bed, and she remained there many +weeks. The hills were white with snow, +and the winter winds were sounding among +them like the chant of a high mass, when +she came down once more to the parlor. +Even then Will carried her like a baby in +his arms. He had carried her mother in +the same way, when she began to die; and +his heart trembled and smote him. He +was very tender with his little sister, but +tempests of rage tossed him to and fro +when he thought of Ulfar Fenwick.</p> +<p>And he was compelled lately to think of +him very often. All over the fell-side, all +through Allerdale, it had begun to be +whispered, “Aspatria Anneys has been +deserted by her lover.” How the fact had +become known it was difficult to discover: +it was as if it had flown from roof to roof +with the sparrows. Will could see it in the +faces of his neighbours, could hear it in +the tones of their speech, could feel it in +the clasp of their hands. And he thought +of these things, until he could not eat a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +meal or sleep an hour in peace. His +heart was on fire with suppressed rage. +He told Brune that all he wanted was to +lay Fenwick across his knees and break +his neck. And then he spread out his +mighty hands, and clasped and unclasped +them with a silent force that had terrible +anticipation in it. And he noticed that +after her illness his sister no longer wore +the circlet of diamonds which had been +her betrothal-ring. She had evidently +lost all hope. Then it was time for him +to interfere.</p> +<p>Aspatria feared it when he came to her +room one morning and kissed her and +bade her good-by. He said he was going +a bit off, and might be a week away,—happen +more. But she did not dare to +question him. Will at times had masterful +ways, which no one dared to question.</p> +<p>Brune knew where his brother was going. +The night before he had taken +Brune to the little room which was called +the Squire’s room. In it there was a +large oak chest, black with age and heavy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +with iron bars. It contained the +title-deeds, and many other +valuable papers. Will explained +these +and the other +business +of the farm +to Brune; +and Brune +did not need +to ask him +why. He was +well aware +what business +William Anneys +was bent on, before +Will said,—“I +am going to Fenwick +Castle, Brune. I am +going to make that measureless +villain marry Aspatria.”</p> +<div class='figleft' style='width:343px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_14' id='linki_14'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0077.jpg' alt='' title='' width='343' height='484' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>“Is it worth</span> while, Will?”</p> +<p>“It is worth while. He shall keep his +promise. If he does not, I will kill him, +or he must kill me.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span></div> +<p>“If he kills you, Will, he must then +fight me.” And Brune’s face grew red and +hot, and his eyes flashed angry fire.</p> +<p>“That is as it should be; only keep your +anger at interest until you have lads to +take your place. We mustn’t leave Ambar-Side +without an Anneys to heir it. I +fancy your wrath won’t get cold while it is +waiting.”</p> +<p>“It will get hotter and hotter.”</p> +<p>“And whatever happens, don’t you be +saving of kind words to Aspatria. The +little lass has suffered more than a bit; +and she is that like mother! I couldn’t +bide, even if I was in my grave, to think +of her wanting kindness.”</p> +<p>The next morning Will went away. +Brune would not talk to Aspatria about +the journey. This course was a mistake; +it would have done her good to talk continually +of it. As it was, she was left to +chew over and over the cud of her mournful +anticipations. She had no womanly +friend near her. Mrs. Frostham had drawn +back a little when people began to talk of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +“poor Miss Anneys.” She had daughters, +and she did not feel that her friendship for +the dead included the living, when the living +were unfortunate and had questionable +things said about them.</p> +<p>And the last bitter drop in Aspatria’s +cup full of sorrow was the hardness of her +heart toward Heaven. She could not +care about God; she thought God did not +care for her. She had tried to make herself +pray, even by going to her mother’s +grave, but she felt no spark of that hidden +fire which is the only acceptable prayer. +There was a Christ cut out of ivory, nailed +to a large ebony cross, in her room. It +had been taken from the grave of an old +abbot in Aspatria Church, and had been +in her mother’s family three hundred years. +It was a Christ that had been in the grave +and had come back to earth. Her mother’s +eyes had closed forever while fixed upon +it, and to Aspatria it had always been an +object of supreme reverence and love. +She was shocked to find herself unmoved +by its white pathos. Even at her best +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +hours she could only stand with clasped +hands and streaming eyes before it, and +with sad imploration cry,—</p> +<p>“I cannot pray! I cannot pray! Forgive +me, Christ!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_ONLY_BROTHER_WILL' id='CHAPTER_III_ONLY_BROTHER_WILL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III. +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />ONLY BROTHER WILL.</span></h2> +</div> +<p>It was a dull raw day +in late autumn, especially +dull and raw near the +sea, where there was an +evil-looking sky to the +eastward. Ulfar +Fenwick stood at a +window in Castle Fenwick +which commanded +the black, white-frilled +surges. He was watching +anxiously the point +at which the pale gray wall +of fog was thickest, a +wall of inconceivable height, +resting on the sea, reaching to +the clouds, when suddenly there emerged +from it a beautifully built schooner-yacht. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +She cut her way through the mysterious +barrier as if she had been a knife, and came +forward with short, stubborn plunges.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:326px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_15' id='linki_15'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0081.jpg' alt='' title='' width='326' height='600' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>All over the</span> North Sea there are desolate +places full of the cries of parting souls, +but nowhere more desolate spaces than +around Fenwick Castle; and as the winter +was approaching, Ulfar was anxious to +escape its loneliness. His yacht had been +taking in supplies; she was making for +the pier at the foot of Fenwick Cliff, and +he was dressed for the voyage and about +to start upon it. He was going to the +Mediterranean, to Civita Vecchia, and his +purpose was the filial one of bringing +home the remains of the late baronet. He +had promised faithfully to see them laid +with those of his fore-elders on the windy +Northumberland coast; and he felt that +this duty must be done, ere he could comfortably +travel the westward route he had +so long desired.</p> +<p>He was slowly buttoning his pilot-coat, +when he heard a heavy step upon the +flagged passage. Many such steps had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +been up and down it that hour, but none +with the same fateful sound. He turned +his face anxiously to the door, and as he +did so, it was flung open, as if by an angry +man, and William Anneys walked in, +frowning and handling his big walking-stick +with a subdued passion that filled +the room as if it had been suddenly +charged with electricity. The two men +looked steadily at each other, neither of +them flinching, neither of them betraying +by the movement of an eyelash the emotion +that sent the blood to their faces and the +wrath to their eyes.</p> +<p>“William Anneys! What do you +want?”</p> +<p>“I want you to set your wedding-day. +It must not be later than the fifteenth of +this month.”</p> +<p>“Suppose I refuse to do so? I am going +to Italy for my father’s body.”</p> +<p>“You shall not leave England until you +marry my sister.”</p> +<p>“Suppose I refuse to do so?”</p> +<p>“Then you will have to take your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +chances of life or death. You will give me +satisfaction first; and if you escape the +fate you well deserve, Brune may have +better fortune.”</p> +<p>“Duelling is now murder, sir, unless we +pass over to France.”</p> +<p>“I will not go to France. Wrestling is +not murder, and we both know there is a +‘throw’ to kill; and I will ‘throw’ until I +do kill,—or am killed. There’s Brune +after me.”</p> +<p>“I have ceased to love your sister. I +dare say she has forgotten me. Why do +you insist on our marriage? Is it that she +may be Lady Fenwick?”</p> +<p>“Look you, sir! I care nothing for +lordships or ladyships; such things are +matterless to me. But your desertion has +set wicked suspicions loose about Miss +Anneys; and the woman they dare to +think her, you shall make your wife. By +God in heaven, I swear it!”</p> +<p>“They have said wrong of Miss Anneys! +Impossible!”</p> +<p>“No, sir! they have not said wrong. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +If any man in Allerdale had dared to say +wrong, I had torn his tongue from his +mouth before I came here; and as for the +women, they know well I would hold their +husbands or brothers or sons responsible +for every ill word they spoke. But they +think wrong, and they make me feel it +everywhere. They look it, they shy off +from Aspatria,—oh, you know well enough +the kind of thing going on.”</p> +<p>“A wrong thought of Miss Anneys is +atrocious. The angels are not more pure.” +He said the words softly, as if to himself; +and William Anneys stood watching him +with an impatience that in a moment or +two found vent in an emphatic stamp with +his foot.</p> +<p>“I have no time to waste, sir. Are +you afraid to sup the ill broth you have +brewed?”</p> +<p>“Afraid!”</p> +<p>“I see you have no mind to marry. +Well, then, we will fight! I like that +better.”</p> +<p>“I will fight both you and your brother, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +make any engagement you wish; but if the +fair name of Miss Anneys is in danger, I +have a prior engagement to marry her. I +will keep it first. Afterward I am at your +service, Squire, yours and your brother’s; +for I tell you plainly that I shall leave my +wife at the church door and never see her +again.”</p> +<p>“I care not how soon you leave her; the +sooner the better. Will the eleventh of +this month suit you?”</p> +<p>“Make it the fifteenth. To what church +will you bring my fair bride?”</p> +<p>“Keep your scoffing for a fitter time. +If you look in that way again, I will strike +the smile off your lips with a hand that +will leave you little smiling in the future.” +And he passed his walking-stick to his left, +and doubled his large right hand with an +ominous readiness.</p> +<p>“We may even quarrel like gentlemen, +Mr. Anneys.”</p> +<p>“Then don’t you laugh like a blackguard, +that’s all.”</p> +<p>“Answer me civilly. At what church +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +shall I meet Miss Anneys, and at what +hour on the fifteenth?”</p> +<p>“At Aspatria Church, at eleven o’clock.”</p> +<p>“Aspatria?”</p> +<p>“Ay, to be sure! There will be witnesses +there, I can tell you,—generations +of them, centuries of generations. They +will see that you do the right thing, or +they will dog your steps till you have paid +the uttermost farthing of the wrong. Mind +what you do, then!”</p> +<p>“The dead frighten me no more than +the living do.”</p> +<p>“You will find out, maybe, what the +vengeance of the dead is. I would be +willing to leave you to it, if you shab off, +and I am not sure but you will.”</p> +<p>“William Anneys, you are sure I will +not. You are saying such things to provoke +me to a fight.”</p> +<p>“What reason have I to be sure? All +the vows you made to Aspatria you have +counted as a fool’s babble.”</p> +<p>“I give you my word of honour. Between +gentlemen that is enough.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span></div> +<p>“To be sure, to be sure! Gentlemen +can make it enough. But a poor little lass, +what can she do but pine herself into a +grave?”</p> +<p>“I will listen to you no longer, Squire +Anneys. If your sister’s good name is at +stake, it is my first duty to shield it with +my own name. If that does not satisfy +your sense of honour, I will give you and +your brother whatever satisfaction you +desire. On the fifteenth of this month, at +eleven o’clock, I will meet you at Aspatria +Church. Where shall I find the place?”</p> +<p>“It is not far from Gosforth and Dalton, +on the coast. You cannot miss it, unless +you never look for it.”</p> +<p>“Sir!”</p> +<p>“Unless you never look for it. I do not +feel to trust you. But this is a promise +made to a man, made to William Anneys; +and he will see that you keep it, or else +that you pay for the breaking of it.”</p> +<p>“Good-morning, Squire. There is no +necessity to prolong such an unpleasant +visit.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span></div> +<p>“Nay, I will not ‘good-morning’ with +you. I have not a good wish of any kind +for you.”</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:307px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_16' id='linki_16'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0089.jpg' alt='' title='' width='307' height='238' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>With these defiant</span> words he left the +castle, and Fenwick threw off his pilot-coat +and sat +down to consider. +First +thoughts generally +come +from the selfish, +and therefore +the worst, side +of any nature; and +Fenwick’s first thoughts +were that his yacht was ready to sail, +and that he could go away, and stay away +until Aspatria married, or some other +favourable change took place. He cared +little for England. With good management +he could bring home and bury his +father’s dust without the knowledge of +William Anneys. Then there was the +west! America was before him, north and +south. He had always promised himself +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +to see the whole western continent ere he +settled for life in England.</p> +<p>Such thoughts were naturally foremost, +but he did not encourage them. He felt +no lingering sentiment of pity or love for +Aspatria, but he realized very clearly what +suspicion, what the slant eye, the whispered +word, the scornful glance, the doubtful +shrug, meant in those primitive valleys. +And he had loved the girl dearly; he had +promised to marry her. If she wished him +to keep his promise, if it was a necessity to +her honour, then he would redeem with his +own honour his foolish words. He told +himself constantly that he had not a particle +of fear, that he despised Will and Brune +Anneys and their brutal vows of vengeance; +but—but perhaps they did unconsciously +influence him. Life was sweet +to Ulfar Fenwick, full of new dreams and +hopes set in all kinds of new surroundings. +For Aspatria Anneys why should he die? +It was better to marry her. The girl had +been sweet to him, very sweet! After all, +he was not sure but he preferred that she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +should be so bound to him as to prevent +her marrying any other man. He still +liked her well enough to feel pleasure in +the thought that he had put her out of the +reach of any future lover she might have.</p> +<p>Squire Anneys rode home in what +Brune called “a pretty temper for any +man.” His horse was at the last point of +endurance when he reached Seat-Ambar, +he himself wet and muddy, “cross and +unreasonable beyond everything.” Aspatria +feared the very sound of his voice. +She fled to her room and bolted the door. +At that hour she felt as if death would be +the best thing for her; she had brought +only sorrow and trouble and apprehended +disgrace to all who loved her.</p> +<p>“I think God has forgotten me too!” +she cried, glancing with eyes full of anguish +to the pale Crucified One hanging +alone and forsaken in the darkest corner +of the room. Only the white figure was +visible; the cross had become a part of +the shadows. She remembered the joyous, +innocent prayers that had been wont +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +to make peace in her heart and music on +her lips; and she looked with a sorrow +that was almost reproach at her Book of +Common Prayer, lying dusty and neglected +on its velvet cushion. In her rebellious, +hopeless grief, she had missed all its +wells of comfort. Oh, if an angel would +only open her eyes! One had come to +Hagar in the desert: Aspatria was almost +in equal despair.</p> +<p>Yet when she heard her brother Will’s +voice she knew not of any other sanctuary +than the little table which held her Bible +and Prayer Book, and upon which the wan, +sad ivory Christ looked down. In speechless +misery, with clasped hands and low-bowed +head, she knelt there. Will’s voice, +strenuous and stern, reached her at intervals. +She knew from the silence in the +kitchen and farm-offices, and the hasty +movements of the servants, that Will was +cross; and she greatly feared her eldest +brother when he was in what Brune called +one of his rages.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span></div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_17' id='linki_17'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0093.jpg' alt='' title='' width='461' height='550' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>A long lull was followed by a sharp call. +It was Will calling her name. She felt it +impossible to answer, impossible to move; +and as he ascended the stairs and came +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +grumbling along the corridor, she crouched +lower and lower. He was at her door, +his hand on the latch; then a few piteous +words broke from her lips: “Help, Christ, +Saviour of the world!”</p> +<p>Instantly, like a flash of lightning, came +the answer, “It is I. Be not afraid.” She +said the words herself, gave to her heart +the promise and the comfort of it, and, so +saying them, she drew back the bolt and +stood facing her brother. He had a candle +in his hand, and it showed her his red, +angry face, and showed him the pale, resolute +countenance of a woman who had +prayed and been comforted.</p> +<p>He walked into the room and put the +candle down on a small table in its centre. +They both stood a moment by it; then +Aspatria lifted her face to her brother and +kissed him. He was taken aback and +softened, and troubled at his heart. Her +suffering was so evident; she was such a +gray shadow of her former self.</p> +<p>“Aspatria! Aspatria! my little lass!” +Then he stopped and looked at her again.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span></div> +<p>“What is it, Will? Dear Will, what is +it?”</p> +<p>“You must be married on the fifteenth. +Get something ready. I will see Mrs. +Frostham and ask her to help you a bit.”</p> +<p>“Whom am I to marry, Will? On the +fifteenth? It is impossible! See how ill +I am!”</p> +<p>“You are to marry Ulfar Fenwick. Ill? +Of course you are ill; but you must go to +Aspatria Church on the fifteenth. Ulfar +Fenwick will meet you there. He will +make you his wife.”</p> +<p>“You have forced him to marry me. I +will not go, I will not go. I will not +marry Ulfar Fenwick.”</p> +<p>“You shall go, if I carry you in my +arms! You shall marry him, or I—will—kill—you!”</p> +<p>“Then kill me! Death does not terrify +me. Nothing can be more cruel hard than +the life I have lived for a long time.”</p> +<p>He looked at her steadily, and she +returned the gaze. His face was like a +flame; hers was white as snow.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span></div> +<p>“There are things in life worse than +death, Aspatria. There is dishonour, disgrace, +shame.”</p> +<p>“Is sorrow dishonour? Is it a disgrace +to love? Is it a shame to weep when love +is dead?”</p> +<p>“Ay, my little lass, it may be a great +wrong to love and to weep. There is a +shadow around you, Aspatria; if people +speak of you they drop their voices and +shake their heads; they wonder, and they +think evil. Your good name is being +smiled and shaken away, and I cannot +find any one, man or woman, to thrash +for it.”</p> +<p>She stood listening to him with wide-open +eyes, and lips dropping a little apart, +every particle of colour fled from them.</p> +<p>“It is for this reason Fenwick is to +marry you.”</p> +<p>“You forced him; I know you forced +him.” She seemed to drag the words +from her mouth; they almost shivered; +they broke in two as they fell halting on +the ear.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span></div> +<p>“Well, I must say he did not need forcing, +when he heard your good name was +in danger. He said, manly enough, that +he would make it good with his own name. +I do not much think I could have either +frightened or flogged him into marrying +you.”</p> +<p>“Oh, Will! I cannot marry him in this +way! Let people say wicked things of +me, if they will.”</p> +<p>“Nay, I will not! I cannot help them +thinking evil; but they shall not look it, +and they shall not say it.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps they do not even think it, +Will. How can you tell?”</p> +<p>“Well enough, Aspatria. How many +women come to Ambar-Side now? If +you gave a dance next week, you could +not get a girl in Allerdale to accept your +invitation.”</p> +<p>“Will!”</p> +<p>“It is the truth. You must stop all this +by marrying Ulfar Fenwick. He saw it +was only just and right: I will say that +much for him.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span></div> +<p>“Let me alone until morning. I will +do what you say.—Oh, mother! mother +I want mother now!”</p> +<p>“My poor little lass! I am only brother +Will; but I am sorry for thee, I am that!”</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_18' id='linki_18'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0098.jpg' alt='' title='' width='433' height='311' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>She tottered to the +bedside, and he lifted her +gently, and laid her on it; and then, as +softly as if he was afraid of waking her, he +went out of the room. Outside the door +he found Brune. He had taken off his +shoes, and was in his stocking-feet. Will +grasped him by the shoulder and led him +to his own chamber.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span></div> +<p>“What were you watching me for? +What were you listening to me for? I +have a mind to hit you, Brune.”</p> +<p>“You had better not hit me, Will. I +was not bothering myself about you. +I was watching Aspatria. I was listening, +because I knew the madman in you had +got loose, and I was feared for my sister. +I was not going to let you say or do +things you would be sorry to death for +when you came to yourself. And so you +are going to let that villain marry Aspatria? +You are not of my mind, Will. I +would not let him put a foot into our +decent family, or have a claim of any kind +on our sister.”</p> +<p>“I have done what I thought best.”</p> +<p>“I don’t say it is best.”</p> +<p>“And I don’t ask for your opinion. Go +to your own room, Brune, and mind your +own affairs.”</p> +<p>And Brune, brought up in the religious +belief of the natural supremacy of the +elder brother, went off without another +word, but with a heart full to overflowing +of turbulent, angry thoughts.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span></div> +<p>In the morning Will went to see Mrs. +Frostham. He told her of his interview +with Ulfar Fenwick, and begged her to +help Aspatria with such preparations as +could be made. But neither to her nor +yet to Aspatria did he speak of Fenwick’s +avowed intention to leave his wife after the +ceremony. In the first place, he did not +believe that Fenwick would dare to give +him such a cowardly insult; and then, +also, he thought that the sight of Aspatria’s +suffering would make him tender +toward her. William Anneys’s simple, +kindly soul did not understand that of all +things the painful results of our sins are +the most irritating. The hatred we ought +to give to the sin or to the sinner, we give +to the results.</p> +<p>Surely it was the saddest preparation +for a wedding that could be. Will and +Brune were “out.” They did not speak to +each other, except about the farm business. +Aspatria spent most of her time in her +own room with a sempstress, who was +making the long-delayed wedding-dress. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +The silk for it had been bought more than +a year, and it had lost some of its lustrous +colour. Mrs. Frostham paid a short visit +every day, and occasionally Alice Frostham +came with her. She was a very +pretty girl, gentle and affectionate to Aspatria; +and just because of her kindness +Will determined at some time to make her +Mistress of Seat-Ambar.</p> +<p>But in the house there was a great depression, +a depression that no one could +avoid feeling. Will gave no orders for +wedding-festivities; a great dinner and +ball would have been a necessity under the +usual circumstances, but there were no +arrangements even for a breakfast. Aspatria +wondered at the omission, but she did +not dare to question Will; indeed. Will +appeared to avoid her as much as he +could.</p> +<p>Really, William Anneys was very anxious +and miserable. He had no dependence +upon Fenwick’s promise, and he +felt that if Fenwick deceived him there +was nothing possible but the last vengeance. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +He had this thought constantly +in his mind; and he was +quietly ordering +things on the +farm for a long +absence, and for Brune’s +management +or succession. +He paid several +visits to Whitehaven, +where was his banker, and to +Gosport, where his lawyer +lived. He felt, during +that terrible interval +of suspense, very much as a man +under sentence of death +might feel.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:335px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_19' id='linki_19'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0102.jpg' alt='' title='' width='335' height='600' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>The morning of</span> the +fifteenth broke chill and dark, +with a promise of rain. Great +Gable was carrying on a conflict +with an army of gray clouds +assailing his summit and boding +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +no good for the weather. The fog +rolled and eddied from side to side of the +mountains, which projected their black +forms against a ghastly, neutral tint behind +them; and the air was full of that melancholy +stillness which so often pervades the +last days of autumn.</p> +<p>Squire Anneys had slept little for two +weeks, and he had been awake all the +night before. While yet very early, he +had every one in the house called. Still +there were no preparations for company +or feasting. Brune came down grumbling +at a breakfast by candle-light, and he and +William drank their coffee and made a +show of eating almost in silence. But +there was an unspeakable tenderness in +William’s heart, if he had known how to +express it. He looked at Brune with a +new speculation in his eyes. Brune might +soon be master of Ambar-Side: what +kind of a master would he make? Would +he be loving to Aspatria? When Brune +had sons to inherit the land, would he +remember his promise, and avenge the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +insult to the Anneys, if he, William, should +give his life in vain? Out of these questions +many others arose; but he was naturally +a man of few words, and not able to +talk himself into a conviction that he +was doing right; nor yet was he able to +give utterance to the vague objections +which, if defined by words, might perhaps +have changed his feelings and his +plans.</p> +<p>He had sent Aspatria word that she +must be ready by ten o’clock. At eight +she began to dress. Her sleep had been +broken and miserable. She looked anxiously +in the glass at her face. It was as +white as the silk robe she was to wear. A +feeling of dislike of the unhappy garment +rose in her heart. She had bought the +silk in the very noon of her love and +hopes, a shining piece of that pearl-like +tint which only the most brilliant freshness +and youth can becomingly wear. Many +little accessories were wanting. She tried +the Roman cameos with it, and they +looked heavy; she knew in her womanly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +heart that it needed the lustre of gems, the +sparkle of diamonds or rubies.</p> +<p>Mrs. Frostham came a little later, and +assisted her in her toilet; but a passing +thought of the four bridemaids she had +once chosen for this office made her eyes +dim, while the stillness of the house, the +utter neglect of all symbols of rejoicing, +gave an ominous and sorrowful atmosphere +to the bride-robing. Still, Aspatria looked +very handsome; for as the melancholy +toilet offices proceeded with so little interest +and so little sympathy, a sense of +resentment had gradually gathered in the +poor girl’s heart. It made her carry herself +proudly, it brought a flush to her +cheeks, and a flashing, trembling light to +her eyes which Mrs. Frostham could not +comfortably meet.</p> +<p>A few minutes before ten, she threw over +all her fateful finery a large white cloak, +which added a decided grace and dignity +to her appearance. It was a garment +Ulfar had sent her from London,—a long, +mantle-like wrap, made of white cashmere, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +and lined with quilted white satin. Long +cords and tassels of chenille fastened it at +the throat, and the hood was trimmed with +soft white fur. She drew the hood over +her head, she felt glad to hide the wreath +of orange-buds and roses which Mrs. Frostham +had insisted upon her wearing,—the +sign and symbol of her maidenhood.</p> +<p>Will looked at her with stern lips, but +as he wrapped up her satin-sandalled feet +in the carriage, he said softly to her, “God +bless you, Aspatria!” His voice trembled, +but not more than Aspatria’s as she +answered,—</p> +<p>“Thank you, Will. You and Brune are +father and mother to me to-day. There +is no one else.”</p> +<p>“Never mind, my little lass. We are +enough.”</p> +<p>She was alone in the carriage. Will +and Brune rode on either side of her. The +Frosthams, the Dawsons, the Bellendens, +the Atkinsons, and the Lutons followed. +Will had invited every one to the church, +and curiosity brought those who were not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +moved by sympathy or regard. +Fortunately the rain held off, +though the air was damp and +exceedingly depressing.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:404px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_20' id='linki_20'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0107.jpg' alt='' title='' width='404' height='600' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>When they</span> arrived +at Aspatria Church, +they found the yard full; +every gravestone was occupied +by a little party of +gossips. At the +gate there was +a handsome +travelling-chariot +with +four +horses. +It lifted +a great +weight of +apprehension from +William Anneys, for it +told him that Fenwick had +kept his word. He helped Aspatria +to alight, and his heart ached for her. How +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +would she be able to walk between that +crowd of gazing, curious men and women? +He held her arm tight against his big +heart, and Brune, carefully watching her, +followed close behind.</p> +<p>But Aspatria’s inner self had taken possession +of the outer woman. She walked +firmly and proudly, with an erect grace, +without hesitation and without hurry, toward +her fate. Something within her kept saying +words of love and encouragement; she +knew not what they were, only they +strengthened her like wine. She passed +the church door whispering the promise +given her,—“It is I. Be not afraid.” +And then her eyes fell upon the ancient +stone font, at which her father and mother +had named her. She put out her hand and +just touched its holy chalice.</p> +<p>The church was crowded with a curious +and not unsympathetic congregation. Aspatria +Anneys was their own, a dales-woman +by a thousand years of birthright. +Fenwick was a stranger. If he were going +to do her any wrong, and Will Anneys was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +ready to punish him for it, every man and +woman present would have stood shoulder +to shoulder with Will. There was an undefined +expectation of something unusual, of +something more than a wedding. This +feeling, though unexpressed, made itself +felt in a very pronounced way. Will and +Brune looked confidingly around; Aspatria +gathered courage with every step. +She felt that she was among her own +people, living and dead.</p> +<p>As soon as they really entered the +church, they saw Fenwick. He was with +an officer wearing the uniform of the +Household Troops; and he was evidently +pointing out to him the ancient tombs of +the Ambar-Anneys family, the Crusaders +in stone, with sheathed swords and hands +folded in prayer, and those of the family +abbots, adorned with richly floriated +crosses.</p> +<p>When he saw Aspatria he bowed, and +advanced rapidly to the altar. She had +loosened her cloak and flung back her +hood, and she watched his approach with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +eyes that seemed two separate souls of +love and sorrow. One glance from them +troubled him to the seat of life. He +motioned to the waiting clergyman, and +took his place beside his bride. There +was a dead stillness in the church, and a +dead stillness outside; the neighing of a +horse sounded sharp, imperative, fateful. +A ripple of a smile followed; it was a lucky +omen to hear a horse neigh. Brune +glanced at his sister, but she had not +heeded it. Her whole being was swallowed +up in the fact that she was standing +at Ulfar’s side, that she was going to be +his wife.</p> +<p>The aged clergyman was fumbling with +the Prayer Book: “The Form of Solemnization +of Matrimony” seemed hard to find. +And so vagrant is thought, that while he +turned the leaves Aspatria remembered the +travelling-chariot, and wondered whether +Ulfar meant to carry her away in it, and +what she would do for proper clothing. +Will ought to have told her something of +the future. How cruel every one had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +been! It took but a moment for these +and many other thoughts to invade Aspatria’s +heart, and spread dismay and anxiety +and again the sense of resentment.</p> +<p>Then she heard the clergyman begin. +His voice was like that of some one speaking +in a dream, till she sharply called herself +together, hearing also Ulfar’s voice, +and knowing that she too would be called +upon for her assent. She glanced up at +Ulfar, who was dressed with great care and +splendour and looking very handsome, and +said her “I will” with the glance. Ulfar +could not receive it unmoved; he looked +steadily at her, and then he saw the ruin +of youth that his faithlessness had made. +Remorse bit him like a serpent, but remorse +is not repentance. Then William +Anneys gave his sister to his enemy; and +the gift was like death to him, and the +look accompanying the gift filled Ulfar’s +heart with a contemptuous anger fatal to +all juster or kinder feelings.</p> +<p>When the service was ended, Fenwick +turned to Aspatria and offered her his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +hand. She put hers into his, and so he led +her down the aisle, and through the churchyard, +to her own carriage. William had +followed close. He wondered if Fenwick +meant to take his wife with him, and he +resolved to give him the opportunity to do +so. But as soon as he perceived that the +bridegroom would carry out his threat, and +desert his bride at the church gates, he +stepped forward and said,—</p> +<p>“That is enough, Sir Ulfar Fenwick. +I have made you keep your word. I will +care for your wife. She shall neither bear +your name nor yet take anything from +your bounty.”</p> +<p>Fenwick paid no heed to his brother-in-law. +He looked at Aspatria. She was +whiter than snow; she had the pallor of +death. He lifted his hat and said,—</p> +<p>“Farewell, Lady Fenwick. We shall +meet no more.”</p> +<p>“Sir Ulfar,” she answered calmly, “it +is not my will that we met here to-day.”</p> +<p>“And as for meeting no more,” said +Brune, with passionate contempt, “I will +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +warrant that is not in your say-so, Ulfar +Fenwick.”</p> +<p>As he spoke, Fenwick’s friend handed +Will Anneys a card; then they drove rapidly +away. Will was carefully wrapping +his sister for her solitary ride back to Seat-Ambar; +and he did this with forced deliberation, +trying to appear undisturbed by +what had occurred; for, since it had happened, +he wished his neighbours to think +he had fully expected it. And while so +engaged he found opportunity to whisper +to Aspatria: “Now, my little lass, bear up +as bravely as may be. It is only one hour. +Only one hour, dearie! Don’t you try to +speak. Only keep your head high till you +get home, darling!”</p> +<p>So the sad procession turned homeward, +Aspatria sitting alone in her carriage, +William and Brune riding on either side +of her, the squires and dames bidden to +the ceremony following slowly behind. +Some talked softly of the affair; some passionately +assailed William Anneys for not +felling the villain where he stood. Gradually +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +they said good-by, and so went to their +own homes. Aspatria had to speak to +each, she had to sit erect, she had to bear +the wondering, curious gaze not only of +her friends, but of the hinds and peasant-women +in the small hamlets between the +church and Seat-Ambar; she had to endure +her own longing and disappointment, +and make a poor attempt to smile when +the children flung their little posies of late +flowers into the passing carriage.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_21' id='linki_21'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0114.jpg' alt='' title='' width='455' height='300' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>To the last moment she bore it. “A +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +good, brave girl!” said Will, as he left her +at her own room door. “My word! it is +better to have good blood than good +fortune: good blood never was beat! +Aspatria is only a little lass, but she is +more than a match for yon villain! A big +villain he is, a villain with a latchet!”</p> +<p>The miserable are sacred. All through +that wretched afternoon no one troubled +Aspatria. Will and Brune sat by the +parlour fire, for the most part silent. The +rain, which had barely held off until their +return from the church, now beat against +the window-panes, and drenched and scattered +even the hardy Michaelmas daisies. +The house was as still as if there had been +death instead of marriage in it. Now and +then Brune spoke, and sometimes William +answered him, and sometimes he did not.</p> +<p>At last, after a long pause, Brune asked: +“What was it Fenwick’s friend gave you? +A message?”</p> +<p>“A message.”</p> +<p>“You might as well say what, Will.”</p> +<p>“Ay, I might. It said Fenwick would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +wait for me a week at the Sceptre Inn, +Carlisle.”</p> +<p>“Will you go to Carlisle?”</p> +<p>“To be sure I will go. I would not +miss the chance of ‘throwing’ him,—no, +not for ten years’ life!”</p> +<p>“Dear me! what a lot of trouble has +come with just taking a stranger in out +of the storm!”</p> +<p>“Ay, it is a venturesome thing to do. +How can any one tell what a stranger may +bring in with him?”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_FOR_MOTHERS_SAKE' id='CHAPTER_IV_FOR_MOTHERS_SAKE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV. +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />FOR MOTHER’S SAKE.</span></h2> +</div> +<p>In the upper chamber where Will had +left his sister, a great mystery of sorrow +was being endured. Aspatria felt as if all +had been. Life had no more joy to give, +and no greater grief to inflict. She undressed +with rapid, trembling fingers; her +wedding finery was hateful in her sight. +On the night before she had folded all her +store of clothing, and laid it ready to put +in a trunk. She had been quite in the +dark as to her destiny; the only thing that +appeared certain to her was that she would +have to leave home. Perhaps she would +go with Ulfar from the church door. In +that case Will would have to send her +clothing, and she had laid it in the neatest +order for the emergency.</p> +<p>On the top of one pile lay a crimson +Canton crape shawl. Her mother had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +worn it constantly during the last year of +her life; and Aspatria had put it away, as +something too sacred for ordinary use. +She now folded it around her shoulders, +and sat down. Usually, when things troubled +her, she was restless and kept in +motion, but this trouble was too bitter and +too great to resist; she was quiet, she took +its blows passively, and they smote her on +every side.</p> +<p>Could she ever forget that cruel ride +home, ever cease to burn and shiver when +she remembered the eyes that had scanned +her during its progress? The air seemed +full of them. She covered her face to +avoid the pitying, wondering, scornful +glances. But this ride through the valley +of humiliation was not the bitterest drop +in her bitter cup; she could have smiled +as she rode and drank it, if Ulfar had been +at her side. It was his desertion that was +so distracting to her. She had thought +of many sorrows in connection with this +forced marriage, but this sorrow had never +suggested itself as possible.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span></div> +<p>Therefore, when Ulfar bade her farewell +she had felt as if standing on the void of +the universe. It was the superhuman +woman within her that had answered him, +and that had held up her head and had +strengthened her for her part all through +that merciless ride. And the sight of her +handsome, faithless lover, the tones of his +voice, the touch of his hand, his half-respectful, +half-pitying kindness, had awakened +in her heart a tenfold love for him.</p> +<p>For she understood then, for the first +time, her social and educational inferiority. +She felt even that she had done herself +less than justice in her fine raiment: her +country breeding and simple beauty would +have appeared to greater advantage in the +white merino she had desired to wear. +She had been forced into a dress that +accentuated her deficiencies. At that +hour she thought she could never see +Mrs. Frostham again.</p> +<div class='figleft' style='width:332px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_22' id='linki_22'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0120.jpg' alt='' title='' width='332' height='461' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>To these tempestuous,</span> humiliating, heart-breaking +reflections the storm outside +made an angry accompaniment. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +wind howled down the chimney and wailed +around the house, and the rain beat +against the window and pattered on the +flagged walks. +The darkness +came on early, +and the cold grew +every hour more +searching. She +was not insensible +to these +physical discomforts, +but +they seemed +so small a +part of her +misery that +she made no +resistance to +their attack. +Will and Brune, +sitting almost speechless +downstairs, were both thinking of her. +When it was quite dark they grew unhappy. +First one and then the other +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +crept softly to her room door. All was as +still as death. No movement, no sound of +any kind, betrayed in what way the poor +soul within suffered. No thread of light +came from beneath the door: she was in +the dark, and she had eaten nothing all day.</p> +<p>About six o’clock Will could bear it no +longer. He knocked softly at her door, +and said: “My little lass, speak to Will! +Have a cup of tea! Do have a cup of +tea, dearie!”</p> +<p>The voice was so unlike Will’s voice that +it startled Aspatria. It told her of a suffering +almost equalling her own. She +rose from the chair in which she had been +sitting for hours, and went to him. The +room was dark, the passage was dark; he +saw nothing but the denser dark of her +figure, and her white face above it. She +saw nothing but his great bulk and his +shining eyes. But she felt the love flowing +out from his heart to her, she felt his +sorrow and his sympathy, and it comforted +her. She said: “Will, do not fret about +me. I am over-getting the shame and sorrow. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +Yes, I will have a cup of tea, and +tell Tabitha to make a fire here. Dear +Will, I have been a great care and shame +to you.”</p> +<p>“Ay, you have, Aspatria; but I would +rather die than miss you, my little lass.”</p> +<p>This interview gave a new bent to Aspatria’s +thoughts. As she drank the tea, and +warmed her chilled feet before the blaze, +she took into consideration what misery +her love for Ulfar Fenwick had brought to +her brothers’ once happy home, the anxiety, +the annoyance, the shame, the ill-will +and quarrelling, the humiliations that Will +and Brune had been compelled to endure. +Then suddenly there flashed across her +mind the card given to Will by Ulfar’s +friend. She was not too simple to conceive +of its meaning. It was a defiance of +some kind, and she knew how Will would +answer it. Her heart stood still with +terror.</p> +<p>She had seen Will and Ulfar wrestling; +she had heard Will say to Brune, when +Ulfar was absent, “He knows little about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +it; when I had that last grip, I could have +flung him into eternity.” It was common +enough for dalesmen quarrelling to have +a “fling” with one another and stand by +its results. If Will and Ulfar met thus, +one or both would be irremediably injured. +In their relation to her, both were equally +dear. She would have given her poor +little life cheerfully for the love of either. +Her cup shook in her hand. She had a +sense of hurry in the matter, that drove +her like a leaf before a strong wind. If +Will got to bed before she saw him, he +might be away in the morning ere she was +aware. She put down her cup, and while +she stood a moment to collect her strength +and thoughts, the subject on all its sides +flashed clearly before her.</p> +<p>A minute afterward she opened the parlour +door. Brune sat bent forward, with a +poker in his hands. He was tracing a +woman’s name in the ashes, though he +was hardly conscious of the act. Will’s +head was thrown back against his chair; +he seemed to be asleep. But when Aspatria +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +opened the door, he sat upright and +looked at her. A pallor like death spread +over his face; it was the crimson shawl, his +mother’s shawl, which caused it. Wearing +it, Aspatria closely resembled her. Will +had idolized his mother in life, and he worshipped +her memory. If Aspatria had +considered every earthly way of touching +Will’s heart, she could have selected none +so certain as the shawl, almost accidentally +assumed.</p> +<p>She went direct to Will. He drew a +low stool to his side, and Aspatria sat +down upon it, and then stretched out her +left hand to Brune. The two men looked +at their sister, and then they looked at +each other. The look was a vow. Both +so understood it.</p> +<p>“Will and Brune,” the girl spoke softly, +but with a great steadiness,—“Will and +Brune, I am sorry to have given you so +much shame and trouble.”</p> +<p>“It is not your fault, Aspatria,” said +Brune.</p> +<p>“But I will do so no more. I will never +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +name Ulfar again. I will try to be cheerful +and to make home cheerful, try to +carry on life as it used to be before he +came. We will not let people talk of him, +we will not mind it if they do. Eh, Will?”</p> +<p>“Just now, dear, in a little while.”</p> +<p>“Will, dear Will! what did that card +mean,—the one Ulfar’s friend gave? You +will not go near Ulfar, Will? Please do not!”</p> +<p>“I have a bit of business to settle with +him, Aspatria, and then I never want to +see his face again.”</p> +<p>“Will, you must not go.”</p> +<p>“Ay, but I must. I have been thought +of with a lot of bad names, but no one +shall think ‘coward’ of me.”</p> +<p>“Will, remember all I have suffered +to-day.”</p> +<p>“I am not likely to forget it.”</p> +<p>“That ride home, Will, was as if I was +going up Calvary. My wedding-dress +was heavy as a cross, and that foolish +wreath of flowers was a wreath of cruel +thorns. I was pitied and scorned, till I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +felt as if my heart—my real heart—was +all bruised and torn. I have suffered +so much, Will, spare me more suffering. +Will! Will! for your little sister’s sake, +put that card in the fire, and stay here, +right here with me.”</p> +<p>“My lass! my dear lass, you cannot tell +what you are asking.”</p> +<p>“I am asking you to give up your revenge. +I know that is a great thing for +a man to do. But, Will, dear, you stand +in father’s place, you are sitting in father’s +chair; what would he say to you?”</p> +<p>“He would say, ‘Give the rascal a good +thrashing, Will. When a man wrongs a +woman, there is no other punishment for +him. Thrash him to within an inch of his +cruel, selfish, contemptible life!’ That is +what father would say, Aspatria. I know +it, I feel it.”</p> +<p>“If you will not give up your revenge +for me, nor yet for father, then I ask you +for mother’s sake! What would mother +say to-night if she were here?—very like +she is here. Listen to her, Will. She is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +saying, ‘Spare my little girl any more +sorrow and shame, Will, my boy Will!’—that +is what mother would say. And if +you hurt Ulfar you hurt me also, and if +Ulfar hurts you my heart will break. The +fell-side is ringing now with my troubles. +If I have any more, I will go away where +no one can find me. For mother’s sake, +Will! For mother’s sake!”</p> +<p>The strong man was sobbing behind his +hands, the struggle was a terrific one. +Brune watched it with tears streaming unconsciously +down his cheeks. Aspatria +sunk at Will’s feet, and buried her face on +his knees.</p> +<p>“For mother’s sake, Will! Let Ulfar +go free.”</p> +<p>“My dear little lass, I cannot!”</p> +<p>“For mother’s sake, Will! I am speaking +for mother! For mother’s sake!”</p> +<p>“I—I—Oh, what shall I do, Brune?”</p> +<p>“For mother’s sake, Will!”</p> +<p>He trembled until the chair shook. He +dared not look at the weeping girl. She +rose up. She gently moved away his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +hands. She kissed his eyelids. She said, +with an irresistible entreaty: “Look at me, +Will. I am speaking for mother. Let +Ulfar alone. I do not say forgive him.”</p> +<p>“Nay, I will never forgive him.”</p> +<p>“But let him alone. Will! Will! let +him alone, for mother’s sake!”</p> +<p>Then he stood up. He looked into +Aspatria’s eyes; he let his gaze wander to +the crimson shawl. He began to sob like +a child.</p> +<p>“You may go, Aspatria,” he said, in +broken words. “If you ask me anything +in mother’s name, I have no power to +say no.”</p> +<p>He walked to the window and looked +out into the dark stormy night, and Brune +motioned to Aspatria to go away. He +knew Will would regain himself better in +her absence. She was glad to go. As +soon as Will had granted her request, she +fell to the lowest ebb of life. She could +hardly drag herself up the long, dark stairs. +She dropped asleep as soon as she reached +her room.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span></div> +<div class='figright' style='width:239px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_23' id='linki_23'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0129.jpg' alt='' title='' width='239' height='520' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>It was a</span> bitter +awakening. The +soul feels sorrow +keenest at the first +moments of consciousness. +It has +been away, perhaps, +in happy scenes, or +it has been lulling +itself in deep repose, +and then suddenly it +is called to lift again +the heavy burden of +its daily life. Aspatria +stood in her cold, +dim room; and even +while shivering in her thin +night-dress, with bare feet +treading the polished oak floor, +she hastily put out of her sight +the miserable wedding-garments. A large +dower-chest stood conveniently near. She +opened it wide, and flung dress and wreath +and slippers and cloak into it. The lid +fell from her hands with a great clang, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +she said to herself, “I will never open it +again.”</p> +<p>The storm still continued. She dressed +in simple household fashion, and went +downstairs. Brune sat by the fire. He +said: “I was waiting for you, Aspatria. +Will is in the barn. He had his coffee +and bacon long ago.”</p> +<p>“Brune, will you be my friend through +all this trouble?”</p> +<p>“I will stand by you through thick +and thin, Aspatria. There is my hand +on it.”</p> +<p>About great griefs we do not chatter; +and there was no further discussion of +those events which had been barely turned +away from tragedy and death. Murder +and despairing love and sorrow might +have a secret dwelling-place in Seat-Ambar, +but it was in the background. +The front of life went on as smoothly as +ever; the cows were milked, the sheep +tended, the men and maids had their tasks, +the beds were made, and the tables set, +with the usual order and regularity.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span></div> +<p>And Aspatria found this “habit of living” +to be a good staff to lean upon. She +assumed certain duties, and performed +them; and the house was pleasanter for +her oversight. Will and Brune came far +oftener to sit at the parlour fireside, when +they found Aspatria there to welcome +them. And so the days and weeks followed +one another, bringing with them +those commonplace duties and interests +which give to existence a sense of stability +and order. No one spoke of Fenwick; but +all the more Aspatria nursed his image in +her heart and her imagination. He had +dressed himself for his marriage with great +care and splendour. Never had he looked +so handsome and so noble in her eyes, +and never until that hour had she realized +her social inferiority to him, her lack of +polish and breeding, her ignorance of all +things which a woman of birth and wealth +ought to know and to possess.</p> +<p>This was a humiliating acknowledgment; +but it was Aspatria’s first upward +step, for with it came an invincible determination +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +to make herself worthy of her +husband’s love and companionship. The +hope and the object gave a new colour to +her life. As she went about her simple +duties, as she sat alone in her room, as +she listened to her brothers talking, it +occupied, strengthened, and inspired her. +Dark as the present was, it held the hope +of a future which made her blush and +tingle to its far-off joy. To learn everything, +to go everywhere, to become a +brilliant woman, a woman of the world, to +make her husband admire and adore her,—these +were the dreams that brightened the +long, sombre winter, and turned the low +dim rooms into a palace of enchantment.</p> +<p>She was aware of the difficulties in her +way. She thought first of asking Will to +permit her to go to a school in London. +But she knew he would never consent. +She had no friends to whom she could +confide her innocent plans, she had as yet +no money in her own control. But in less +than two years she would be of age. Her +fortune would then be at her disposal, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +the law would permit her to order her own +life. In the mean time she could read and +study at home: when the spring came +she would see the vicar, and he would +lend her books from his library. +There was an Encyclopædia in +the house; she got together +its scattered +volumes, and began +to make herself +familiar with its +<i>mélange</i> of information.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:275px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_24' id='linki_24'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0133.jpg' alt='' title='' width='275' height='464' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>In such</span> efforts +her heart was +purified from +all bitterness, +wounded vanity, +and impatience. Life +was neither lonely nor +monotonous, she had a noble +object to work for. So the winter +passed, and the spring came again. All +over the fells the ewes and their lambs +made constant work for the shepherds; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +and Aspatria greatly pleased Will by going +out frequently to pick up the perishing, +weakly lambs and succour them.</p> +<p>One day in April she took a bottle of +warm milk and a bit of sponge and went up +Calder Fell. On the first reach of the +fell she found a dying lamb, and carried it +down to the shelter of some whin-bushes. +Then she fed it with the warm milk, and +the little creature went to sleep in her +arms.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:351px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_25' id='linki_25'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0135.jpg' alt='' title='' width='351' height='498' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>The grass was</span> green and fresh, the sun +warm; the whins sheltered her from the +wind, and a little thrush in them, busy +building her nest, was making sweet music +out of air as sweet. All was so glad and +quiet: she, too, was happy in her own +thoughts. A wagon passed, and then a +tax-cart, and afterward two old men going +ditching. She hardly lifted her head; +every one knew Aspatria Anneys. When +the shadows told her that it was near noon, +she rose to go home, holding the lamb in +her arms. At that moment a carriage +came slowly from behind the hedge. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +saw the fine horses with their glittering +harness, and knew it was a strange vehicle +in Ambar-Side, so she sat down +again until it should pass. The lamb was +in her left arm. She threw back her head, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +and gazed fixedly into the whin-bush where +the thrush had its nest. Whoever it was, +she did not wish to be recognized.</p> +<p>Lady Redware, Sarah Sandys, and Ulfar +Fenwick were in the carriage. At the +moment she stood with the lamb in her +arms, Ulfar had known his wife. Lady +Redware saw her almost as quickly, and in +some occult way she transferred, by a +glance, the knowledge to Sarah. The carriage +was going very slowly; the beauty +of the thrown-back head, the simplicity of +her dress, the pastoral charm of her position, +all were distinct. Ulfar looked at her +with a fire of passion in his eyes, Lady +Redware with annoyance. Sarah asked, +with a mocking laugh, “Is that really +Little Bo Peep?” The joke fell flat. +Ulfar did not immediately answer it; and +Sarah was piqued.</p> +<p>“I shall go to Italy again,” she said. +“Englishmen may be admirable <i>en masse</i>, +but individually they are stupid or cross.”</p> +<p>“In Italy there are the Capuchins,” answered +Ulfar. He remembered that Sarah +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +had expressed herself strongly about the +order.</p> +<p>“I have just passed a week at Oxford +among the Reverends; all things considered, +I prefer the Capuchins. When you +have dined with a lord bishop, you want +to become a socialist.”</p> +<p>“Your Oxford friends are very nice +people, Sarah.”</p> +<p>“Excellent people, Elizabeth, quite superior +people, and they are all sure not only +of going to heaven, but also of joining +the very best society the place affords.”</p> +<p>“Best society!” said Ulfar, pettishly. +“I am going to America. There, I hope, +I shall hear nothing about it.”</p> +<p>“America is so truly admirable. Why +was it put in such an out-of-the-way place? +You have to sail three thousand miles to +get to it,” pouted Sarah.</p> +<p>“All things worth having are put out of +the way,” replied Ulfar.</p> +<p>“Yes,” sighed Sarah. “What an admirable +story is that of the serpent and +the apple!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span></div> +<p>“Come, Ulfar!” said Lady Redware, +“do try to be agreeable. You used to +be so delightful! Was he not, Sarah?”</p> +<p>“Was he? I have forgotten, Elizabeth. +Since that time a great deal of water has +run into the sea.”</p> +<p>“If you want an ill-natured opinion +about yourself, by all means go to a +woman for it.” And Ulfar enunciated +this dictum with a very scornful shrug +of his shoulders.</p> +<p>“Ulfar!”</p> +<p>“It is so, Elizabeth.”</p> +<p>“Never mind him, dear!” said Sarah. +“I do not. And I have noticed that the +men who give bad characters to women +have usually much worse ones themselves. +I think Ulfar is quite ready for American +society and its liberal ideas.” And Sarah +drew her shawl into her throat, and looked +defiantly at Ulfar.</p> +<p>“The Americans are all socialists. I +have read that, Ulfar. You know what +these liberal ideas come to,—always +socialism.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span></div> +<p>“Do not be foolish, Elizabeth. Socialism +never comes from liberality of thought: +it is always a bequest of tyranny.”</p> +<p>“Ulfar, when are you going to be really +nice and good again?”</p> +<p>“I do not know, Elizabeth.”</p> +<p>“Ulfar is a standing exception to the +rule that when things are at their worst +they must mend. Ulfar, lately, is always +at his worst, and he never mends.”</p> +<p>There was really some excuse for Ulfar; +he was suffering keenly, and neither of the +two women cared to recognize the fact. +He had just returned from Italy with his +father’s remains, and after their burial he +had permitted Elizabeth to carry him off +with her to Redware. In reality the neighbourhood +of Aspatria drew him like a magnet. +He had been haunted by her last, +resentful, amazed, miserable look. He +understood from it that Will had never +told her of his intention to bid her farewell +as soon as she was his wife, and he was +not devoid of imagination. His mind had +constantly pictured scenes of humiliation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +which he had condemned the woman he +had once so tenderly loved to endure.</p> +<p>And that passing glimpse of her under +the whin-bushes had revived something of +his old passion. He answered his sister’s +and Sarah’s remarks pettishly, because he +wanted to be left alone with the new hope +that had come to him. Why not take +Aspatria to America? She was his wife. +He had been compelled, by his sense of +justice and honour, to make her Lady Fenwick; +why should he deny himself her +company, merely to keep a passionate, +impulsive threat?</p> +<p>To the heart the past is eternal, and +love survives the pang of separation. He +thought of Aspatria for the next twenty-four +hours. To see her! to speak to her! +to hear her voice! to clasp her to his +heart! Why should he deny himself these +delights? What pleasure could pride and +temper give him in exchange? Fenwick +had always loved to overcome an obstacle, +and such people cannot do without +obstacles; they are a necessary aliment. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +To see and to speak with Aspatria was +now the one thing in life worthy of his +attention.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:326px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_26' id='linki_26'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0141.jpg' alt='' title='' width='326' height='574' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>It was not</span> an easy thing to accomplish. +Every day for nearly a +week he rode furiously to +Calder Wood, tied his horse +there, and then hung about +the brow of Calder Cliff, for +it commanded Seat-Ambar, +which lay below it as the +street lies below a high +tower. With his +glass he could see Will +and Brune passing from the +house to the barns or the fields, +and once he saw Aspatria go to +meet her brother Will; he saw her +lift her face to Will’s face, he saw +Will put her arm through his arm +and so go with her to the house. +How he hated Will Anneys! +What a triumph it would be to +carry off his sister unknown to him and +without his say-so!</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span></div> +<p>One morning he determined if he found +no opportunity to see Aspatria that day +alone he would risk all, and go boldly to +the house. Why should he not do so? +He had scarcely made the decision when +he saw Will and Brune drive away together. +He remembered it was Dalton +market-day; and he knew that they had +gone there. Almost immediately Aspatria +left the house also. Then he was jealous. +Where was she going as soon as her +brothers left her? She was going to the +vicar’s to return a book and carry him a +cream cheese of her own making.</p> +<p>He knew then how to meet her. She +would pass through a meadow on her way +home, and this meadow was skirted by a +young plantation. Half-way down there +was a broad stile between the two. He +hurried his steps, and arrived there just +as Aspatria entered the meadow. There +was a high frolicking wind blowing right +in her face. It had blown her braids loose, +and her tippet and dress backward; her +slim form was sharply defined by it, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +it compelled her to hold up both her +hands in order to keep her hat on her +head.</p> +<p>She came on so, treading lightly, almost +dancing with the merry gusts to and fro. +Once Ulfar heard a little cry that was half +laughter, as the wind made her pirouette +and then stand still to catch her breath. +Ulfar thought the picture bewitching. He +waited until she was within a yard or two +of the stile, ere he crossed it. She was +holding her hat down: she did not see +him until he could have put his hand upon +her. Then she let her hands fall, and her +hat blew backward, and she stood quite +still and quite speechless, her colour coming +and going, all a woman’s softest +witchery beaming in her eyes.</p> +<p>“Aspatria! dear Aspatria! I am come +to take you with me. I am going to +America.” He spoke a little sadly, as if +he had some reason for feeling grieved.</p> +<p>She shook her head positively, but she +did not, or she could not, speak.</p> +<p>“Aspatria, have you no kiss, no word of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +welcome, no love to give me?” And he +put out his hand, as if to draw her to his +embrace.</p> +<p>She stepped quickly backward: “No, +no, no! Do not touch me, Ulfar. Go +away. Please go away!”</p> +<p>“But you must go with me. You are +my wife, Aspatria.” And he said the last +words very like a command.</p> +<p>“I am not your wife. Oh, no!”</p> +<p>“I say you are. I married you in +Aspatria Church.”</p> +<p>“You also left me there, left me to such +shame and sorrow as no man gives to the +woman he loves.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps I did act cruelly in two or +three ways, Aspatria; but people who love +forgive two or three offences. Let us be +lovers as we used to be.”</p> +<p>“No, I will not be lovers as we used to +be. People who love do not commit two +or three such offences as you committed +against me.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span></div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_27' id='linki_27'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0145.jpg' alt='' title='' width='355' height='600' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>“I will atone for them. I will indeed! +Aspatria, I miss you very much. I will +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +not go to America without you. How +soon can you be ready? In a week?”</p> +<p>“You will atone to me? How? There +is but one way. You shall, in your own +name, call every one in Allerdale, gentle +and simple, to Aspatria Church. You +shall marry me again in their presence, +and go with me to my own home. The +wedding-feast shall be held there. You +shall count Will and Brune Anneys as +your brothers. You shall take me away, +in the sight of all, to your home. Of all +the honour a wife ought to have you must +give me here, among my own people, a +double portion. Will you do this in +atonement?”</p> +<p>“You are talking folly, Aspatria. I +have married you once.”</p> +<p>“You have not married me once. You +met me at Aspatria Church to shame me, +to break my heart with love and sorrow, +to humble my good brothers. No, I am +not your wife! I will not go with you!”</p> +<p>“I can make you go, Aspatria. You +seem to forget the law—”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></div> +<p>“Will says the law will protect me. +But if it did not, if you took me by force +to your house or yacht, you would not +have me. You could not touch me. Aspatria +Anneys is beyond your reach.”</p> +<p>“You are Aspatria Fenwick.”</p> +<p>“I have never taken your name. Will +told me not to do so. Anneys is a good +name. No Anneys ever wronged me.”</p> +<p>“You refused my home, you refused +my money, and now you refuse my name. +You are treating me as badly as possible. +The day before our marriage I sent to +your brother a signed settlement for your +support, the use of Fenwick Castle as a +residence, and two thousand pounds a +year. Your brother Will, the day after +our marriage, took it to my agent and tore +it to pieces in his presence.”</p> +<p>“Will did right. He knew his sister +would not have your home and money +without your love.”</p> +<p>She spoke calmly, with a dignity that +became well her youth and beauty. Ulfar +thought her exceedingly lovely. He attempted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +to woo her again with the tender +glances and soft tones and caressing touch +of their early acquaintance. Aspatria +sorrowfully withdrew herself; she held only +repelling palms toward his bending face. +She was not coy, he could have overcome +coyness; she was cold, and calm, and +watchful of him and of herself. Her face +and throat paled and blushed, and blushed +and paled; her eyes were dilated with feeling; +her pretty bow-shaped mouth trembled; +she radiated a personality sweet, +strong, womanly,—a piquant, woodland, +pastoral delicacy, all her own.</p> +<p>But after many useless efforts to influence +her, he began to despair. He perceived +that she still loved him, perhaps +better than she had ever done, but that +her determination to consider their marriage +void had its source in a oneness of +mind having no second thoughts and no +doubt behind it. The only hope she gave +him was in another marriage ceremony +which in its splendour and publicity should +atone in some measure for the first. He +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +could not contemplate such a confession +of his own fault. He could not give Will +and Brune Anneys such a triumph. If +Aspatria loved him, how could she ask +such a humiliating atonement? Aspatria +saw the shadow of these reflections on his +face. Though he said nothing, she understood +it was this struggle that gave the +momentary indecision to his pleading.</p> +<p>For herself, she did not desire a present +reconciliation. She had nursed too long +the idea of the Aspatria that was to be, the +wise, clever, brilliant woman who was to +win over again her husband. She did not +like to relinquish this hope for a present +gratification, a gratification so much lower +in its aim that she now understood that it +never could long satisfy a nature so complex +and so changeable as Ulfar’s. She +therefore refused him his present hope, +believing that fate had a far better meeting +in store for them.</p> +<p>While these thoughts flashed through +her mind, she kept her eyes upon the +horizon. In that wide-open fixed gaze her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +loving, troubled soul revealed itself. Ulfar +was wondering whether it was worth while +to begin his argument all over again, when +she said softly: “We must now say farewell. +I see the vicar’s maid coming. In +a few hours the fell-side will know of our +meeting. I must tell Will, myself. I +entreat you to leave the dales as soon as +possible.”</p> +<p>“I will not leave them without you.”</p> +<p>“Go to-night. I shall not change what +I have said. There is nothing to be done +but to part. We are no longer alone. +Good-by, Ulfar!—dear Ulfar!”</p> +<p>“I care not who is present. You are +my wife.” And he clasped her in his +arms and kissed her.</p> +<p>Perhaps she was not sorry. Perhaps +her own glance of love and longing had +commanded the embrace; for when she +released herself she was weeping, and +Ulfar’s tears were on her cheeks. But +she called the vicar’s maid imperatively, +and so put an end to the interview.</p> +<p>“That was my husband, Lottie,” she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +said. It was the only explanation offered. +Aspatria knew it was useless to expect any +reticence on the subject. In that isolated +valley such a piece of news could not be +kept; the very birds would talk about +it in their nests. She must herself tell +Will, and although she had done nothing +wrong, she was afraid to tell him.</p> +<p>When she reached home she was glad +to hear that Will had been sent for to +Squire Frostham’s. “It was something +about a fox,” said Brune. “They wanted +me too, but Alice Frostham is a girl I cannot +abide. I would not go near her.”</p> +<p>“Brune, will you take a long ride for +my sake?”</p> +<p>“I will do anything for you I can.”</p> +<p>“I met Ulfar Fenwick this morning.”</p> +<p>“Then you did a bad thing. I would +not have believed it of you. Good Lord! +there is as much two-facedness in a woman +as there is meat in an egg.”</p> +<p>“Brune, you are thinking wrong. I +did not know he was in the country till +he stood before me; and he did not move +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +me a hair’s-breadth any way. But Lottie +from the vicarage saw us together; and +she was going to Dalton. You know what +she will say; and by and by the Frosthams +will hear; and then they will feel it to be +‘only kind’ to talk to Will about me and +my affairs; and the end of it will be some +foolish deed or other. If you love me, +Brune, go to Redware to-night, and see +Lady Redware, and tell her there is danger +for her brother if he stays around +here.”</p> +<p>“I can say that truly. There is danger +for the scoundrel, a good deal of it.”</p> +<p>“Brune, it would be such a sorrow to +me if every one were talking of me again. +Do what I ask you, Brune. You promised +to stand by me through thick and thin.”</p> +<p>“I did; and I will go to Redware as +soon as I have eaten my dinner. If Lottie +saw him, it will be known all over. And +if no one came up here on purpose to tell +Will, he would hear it at Dalton next week, +when that lot of bothering old squires sit +down to their market dinner. It would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +be a grand bit for them to chew with their +victuals.”</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:370px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_28' id='linki_28'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0153a.jpg' alt='' title='' width='370' height='235' /> +<br /> +</div> +<div class='figright' style='width:85px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_29' id='linki_29'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0153b.jpg' alt='' title='' width='85' height='107' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>“I thought</span> they talked about politics.”</p> +<p>“They are like other men. If you get +more than one man in a +place, they are talking bad +about some woman. They +call it politics, but it is mostly +slander.”</p> +<p>“I am going to tell Will myself.”</p> +<p>“That is a deal the best plan.”</p> +<p>“Be sure to frighten Lady Redware; +make her think Ulfar’s life is in danger,—anything +to get him out of the dales.”</p> +<p>“She will feel as if the heavens were +going to fall, when I get done with her. +My word! who would have thought of him +coming back? Life is full of surprises.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></div> +<p>“But only think, if there was never anything +accidental happened! Surprises are +just what make life worth having,—eh, +Brune?”</p> +<p>“Maybe so, and maybe not. When +Will comes home, tell him everything at +once. I can manage Lady Redware, I’ll +be bound.”</p> +<p>With the promise he went away to perform +it, and Aspatria carried her trembling +heart into solitude. But the lonely place +was full of Ulfar. A thousand hopes were +budding in her heart, growing slowly, +strongly, sweetly, in that earth which +she had made for them out of her love, +her desires, her hopes, and her faithful +aspirations.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_BUT_THEY_WERE_YOUNG' id='CHAPTER_V_BUT_THEY_WERE_YOUNG'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V. +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />BUT THEY WERE YOUNG.</span></h2> +</div> +<p>Brune arrived at Redware Hall while +it was still afternoon, and he found no difficulty +in obtaining an interview with its +mistress. She was sitting at a table in a +large bay-window, painting the view from +it. For in those days ladies were not +familiar with high art and all its nomenclature +and accessories; Lady Redware had +never thought of an easel, or a blouse, or +indeed of any of the trappings now considered +necessary to the making of pictures. +She was prettily dressed in silk; +and a square of bristol-board, a box of +Newman’s water-colours, and a few camel’s-hair +pencils were neatly arranged before +her.</p> +<p>She rose when Brune entered, and met +him with a suave courtesy; and the unsophisticated +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +young man took it for a genuine +pleasure. He felt sorry to trouble +such a nice-looking gentlewoman, and he +said so with a sincerity that made her suddenly +serious. “Have you brought me +bad news, Mr. Anneys?” she asked.</p> +<p>“I am afraid you will be put about a +bit. Sir Ulfar Fenwick met my sister this +morning; and they were seen by ill-natured +eyes, and I came, quiet-like, to let you know +that he must leave the dales to-night.”</p> +<p>“Cannot Sir Ulfar meet his own wife?”</p> +<p>“Lady Redware, that is not the question. +Put it, ‘Cannot Sir Ulfar meet your +sister?’ and I will answer you quick +enough, ‘Not while there are two honest +men in Allerdale to prevent him.’”</p> +<p>“You cannot frighten Sir Ulfar from +Allerdale. To threaten him is to make +him stay.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_30' id='linki_30'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0157.jpg' alt='' title='' width='425' height='486' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>“Dalesmen are not ones to threaten. I +tell you that the vicar’s maid saw Sir Ulfar +and my sister together; and when William +Anneys hears of it, Sir Ulfar will get such +a notice to leave these parts as will give +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +him no choice. I came to warn him away +before he could not help himself. I say +freely, I did so to please Aspatria, and out +of no good-will going his way.”</p> +<p>“But if he will not leave Allerdale?”</p> +<p>“But if William Anneys, and the sixty +gentlemen who will ride with William +Anneys, say he must go? What then?”</p> +<p>“Of course Sir Ulfar cannot fight a +mob.”</p> +<p>“Not one of that mob of gentlemen +would fight him; but they all carry stout +riding-whips.” And Brune looked at the +lady with a sombre intentness which made +further speech unnecessary. She had been +alarmed from the first; she now made no +further attempt to disguise her terror.</p> +<p>“What must I do, Mr. Anneys?” she +asked. “What must I do?”</p> +<p>“Send your brother away from Cumberland +to-night. I say he must leave +to-night. To-morrow morning may be too +late to prevent a great humiliation. Aspatria +begged me to come to you. I do not +say I wanted to come.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span></div> +<p>At this moment the door opened, and +Sarah Sandys entered. Brune turned, and +saw her; and his heart stood still. She +came slowly forward, her garment +of pale-green and +white just touching +her sandalled feet. +She had a rush basket +full of violets in +her hands; there +were primroses in +her breast and belt, +and her face was +like a pink rose. +High on her head her +fair hair was lifted, and, +being fastened with a +large turquoise comb, it +gave the idea of sunshine and +blue sky.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:213px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_31' id='linki_31'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0159.jpg' alt='' title='' width='213' height='425' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>Brune stood looking</span> at her, as a mortal +might look at the divine Cytherea made +manifest. His handsome, open face, full +of candid admiration, had almost an august +character. He bowed to her, as men bow +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +when they bend their heart and give its +homage and delight. Sarah was much +impressed by the young man’s beauty, and +she felt his swift adoration of her own +charms. She made Lady Redware introduce +her to Brune, and she completed her +conquest of the youth as she stood a +moment holding his hand and smiling with +captivating grace into his eyes.</p> +<p>Then Lady Redware explained Brune’s +mission, and Sarah grasped the situation +without any disguises. “It simply means +flight, Elizabeth,” she said. “What could +Ulfar do with fifty or sixty angry Cumberland +squires? He would have to go. In +fact, I know they have a method of persuasion +no mortal man can resist.”</p> +<p>Brune saw that his errand was accomplished. +Lady Redware thanked him for +his consideration, and Sarah rang for the +tea-service, and made him a cup, and gave +it to him with her own lovely hands. +Brune saw their exquisite form, their translucent +glow, the sparkling of diamonds +and emeralds upon them. The tea was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +as if brewed in Paradise; it tasted of all +things delightful; it was a veritable cup +of enchantments.</p> +<p>Then Brune rode away, and the two +women watched him over the hill. He +sat his great black hunter like a cavalry +officer; and the creature devoured the +distance with strides that made their hearts +leap to the sense of its power and life.</p> +<p>“He is the very handsomest man I ever +saw!” said Sarah.</p> +<p>“What is to be done about Ulfar? +Sarah, you must manage this business. +He will not listen to me.”</p> +<p>“Ulfar has five senses. Ulfar is very +fond of himself. He will leave Redware, +of course. How handsome Brune Anneys +is!”</p> +<p>“Will you coax him to leave to-night?”</p> +<p>“Ulfar? Yes, I will; for it is the proper +thing for him to do. It would be a shame +to bring his quarrels to your house.—What +a splendid rider! Look, Elizabeth, he is +just topping the hill! I do believe he +turned his head! Is he not handsome? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +Apollo! Antinoüs! Pshaw! Brune Anneys +is a great deal more human, and a +great deal more godlike, than either.”</p> +<p>“Do not be silly, Sarah. And do occupy +yourself a little with Ulfar now.”</p> +<p>“When the hour comes, I will. Ulfar +is evidently occupying himself at present +in watching his wife. There is a decorous +naughtiness and a stimulating sense of +danger about seeing Aspatria, that must +be a thorough enjoyment to Ulfar.”</p> +<p>“Men are always in fusses. Ulfar has +kept my heart palpitating ever since he +could walk alone.”</p> +<p>Sarah sighed. “It is very difficult,” +she said, “to decide whether very old men +or very young men can be the greater +trial. The suffering both can cause is immense! +Poor Sandys was sixty-six, and +Ulfar is thirty-six, and—” She shook +her head, and sighed again.</p> +<p>“How hateful country-people are!” exclaimed +Elizabeth. “They must talk, no +matter what tragedy they cause with their +scandalous words.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span></div> +<p>“Are they worse than our own set, +either in town or country? You know +what the Countess of Denbigh considered +pleasant conversation?—telling things +that ought not to be told.”</p> +<p>“The Countess is a wretch! she would +tell the most sacred of secrets.”</p> +<p>“I tell secrets also. I do not consider +it wrong. What business has any one to +throw the <i>onus</i> of keeping their secret on +my shoulders? Why should they expect +from me more prudence than they themselves +have shown?”</p> +<p>“That is true. But in these valleys they +speak so uncomfortably direct; nothing +but the strongest, straightest, most definite +words will be used.”</p> +<p>“That is a pity. People ought to send +scandal through society in a respectable +hunt-the-slipper form of circulation. But +that is a kind of decency to be cultivated. +However, I shall tell Ulfar, in the plainest +words I can find, that there will be about +sixty Cumberland squires here to-morrow, +to ride with him out of the county, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +that they are looking forward to the fun +of it just as much as if it was a fox-hunt. +Ulfar has imagination. He will be able +to conceive such a ride,—the flying man, +and the roaring, laughing, whip-cracking +squires after him! He will remember +how Tom Appleton the wrestler, who did +something foul, was escorted across the +county line last summer. And Ulfar hates +a scene. Can you fancy him making himself +the centre of such an affair?”</p> +<p>So they talked while Brune galloped +homeward in a very happy mood. He +felt as those ancients may have felt when +they met the Immortals and saluted them. +The thought of the beautiful Mrs. Sandys +filled his imagination; but he talked comfortably +to Aspatria, and assured her that +there was now no fear of a meeting between +her husband and Will. “Only,” he +said, “tell Will yourself to-night, and he +will never doubt you.”</p> +<p>Unfortunately, Will did not return that +night from the Frosthams’; for in the morning +the two men were to go together to Dalton +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +very early. Will heard nothing there, +but Mrs. Frostham was waiting at her garden +gate to tell him when he returned. He +had left Squire Frostham with his son-in-law, +and was alone. Mrs. Frostham made +a great deal of the information, and broke +it to Will with much consideration. Will +heard her sullenly. He was getting a few +words ready for Aspatria, as Mrs. Frostham +told her tale, but they were for her +alone. To Mrs. Frostham he adopted a +tone she thought very ungrateful.</p> +<p>For when the whole affair, real and consequential, +had been told, he answered: +“What is there to make a wonder of? +Cannot a woman talk and walk a bit with +her own husband? Maybe he had something +very particular to say to her. I think +it is a shame to bother a little lass about a +thing like that.”</p> +<p>And he folded himself so close that Mrs. +Frostham could neither question nor sympathize +with him longer. “Good-evening +to you,” he said coldly; and then, while +visible, he took care to ride as if quite at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +his ease. But the moment the road turned +from Frostham he whipped his horse to +its full speed, and entered the farmyard +with it in a foam of hurry, and himself +in a foam of passion.</p> +<p>Aspatria met him with the confession on +her lips. He gave her no time. He assailed +her with affronting and injurious +epithets. He pushed her hands and face +from him. He vowed her tears were a +mockery, and her intention of confessing a +lie. He met all her efforts at explanation, +and all her attempts to pacify him, at +sword-point.</p> +<p>She bore it patiently for a while; and +then Will Anneys saw an Aspatria he had +never dreamed of. She seemed to grow +taller; she did really grow taller; her face +flamed, her eyes flashed, and, in a voice +authoritative and irresistible, she commanded +him to desist.</p> +<p>“You are my worst enemy,” she said. +“You are as deaf as the village gossips. +You will not listen to the truth. Your +abuse, heard by every servant in the house, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +certifies all that malice dares to think. +And in wounding my honour you are +a parricide to our mother’s good name! +I am ashamed of you, Will!”</p> +<p>From head to foot she reflected the indignation +in her heart, as she stood erect +with her hands clasped and the palms +dropped downward, no sign of tears, no +quiver of fear or doubt, no retreat, and no +submission, in her face or attitude.</p> +<p>“Why, whatever is the matter with you, +Aspatria?”</p> +<p>At this moment Brune entered, and she +went to him, and put her hand through +his arm, and said: “Brune, speak for me! +Will has insulted mother and father, +through me, in such a way that I can +never forgive him!”</p> +<p>“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, +Will Anneys!” And Brune put his sister +gently behind him, and then marched +squarely up to his brother’s face. “You +are as passionate as a brute beast, Will, +and that, too, with a poor little lass that +has her own troubles, and has borne +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +them like—like a good woman always +does.”</p> +<p>“I do not want to hear you speak, +Brune.”</p> +<p>“Ay, but I will speak, and you shall +hear me. I tell you, Aspatria is in no kind +to blame. The man came on her sudden, +out of the plantation. She did not take +his hand, she did not listen to him. She +sent him about his business as quick as +might be.”</p> +<p>“Lottie Patterson saw her,” said Will, +dourly.</p> +<p>“Because Aspatria called Lottie Patterson +to her; and if Lottie Patterson says +she saw anything more or worse than +ought to be, I will pretty soon call upon +Seth Patterson to make his sister’s words +good. Cush! I will that! And what is +more, Will Anneys, if you do not know +how to take care of your sister’s good +name, I will teach you,—you mouse of a +man! You go and side with that Frostham +set against Aspatria! Chaff on the Frosthams! +It is a bad neighbourhood where +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +a girl like Aspatria cannot say a word or +two on the king’s highway at broad noonday, +without having a <i>sisserara</i> about it.”</p> +<p>“I did not side with the Frosthams +against Aspatria.”</p> +<p>“I’ll be bound you did!”</p> +<p>“Let me alone, Brune! Go your ways +out of here, both of you!”</p> +<p>“To be sure, we will both go. Come, +Aspatria. When you are tired of ballooning, +William Anneys, and can come down +to common justice, maybe then I will talk +to you,—not till.”</p> +<p>Now, good honest anger is one of the +sinews of the soul; and he that wants it +when there is occasion has but a maimed +mind. The hot words, the passionate atmosphere, +the rebellion of Aspatria, the +decision of Brune, had the same effect +upon Will’s senseless anger as a thunder-storm +has upon the hot, heavy, summer +air. Will raged his bad temper away, and +was cool and clear-minded after it.</p> +<p>At the same hour the same kind of +mental thunder-storm was prevailing over +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +all common-sense at Redware Hall. Ulfar, +after a long and vain watch for another +opportunity to speak to Aspatria, returned +there in a temper compounded of anger, +jealousy, disappointment, and unsatisfied +affection. He heard Lady Redware’s +story of his own danger +and of Brune’s consideration +with scornful indifference. +Brune’s consideration +he laughed at. +He knew very well, he +answered, that Brune +Anneys hated him, and +would take the greatest +delight in such a hubbub +as he pretended was in +project.</p> +<div class='figleft' style='width:132px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_32' id='linki_32'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0170.jpg' alt='' title='' width='132' height='330' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>“But he came</span> to please +Aspatria,” continued Lady +Redware. “He said he came only to +please Aspatria.”</p> +<p>“So Aspatria wishes me to leave Allerdale? +I will not go.”</p> +<p>“Sarah, he will not go,” cried Lady +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +Redware, as her friend entered the room. +“He says he will not go.”</p> +<p>“That is because you have appealed to +Ulfar’s feelings instead of to his judgment. +When Ulfar considers how savagely primitive +these dalesmen are in their passions, +he will understand that discretion is the +nobler part of valour. In Russia he +thought it a very prudent thing to get out +of the way when a pack of wolves were in +the neighbourhood.”</p> +<p>“The law will protect me in this house. +Human beings have to mind the law.”</p> +<p>“There are times when human beings +are a law unto themselves. How would +you like to see a crowd of angry men +shouting around this house for you? +Think of your sister,—and of me, if I am +worth so much consideration.”</p> +<p>“I am not to be frightened, Sarah.”</p> +<p>“Will you consider, then, that as far as +Keswick and Kendal on one side, and as +far as Dalton and Whitehaven on the other +side, every local newspaper will have, or +will make, its own version of the affair? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +The Earl of Lonsdale, with a large party, +is now at Whitehaven Castle. What a +<i>sauce piquante</i> it will be to his dinners! +How the men will howl over it, and how +the women will snicker and smile!”</p> +<p>“Sarah! you can think of the hatefullest +things.”</p> +<p>“And Lonsdale will go up to London +purposely to have the delight of telling it +at the clubs.”</p> +<p>“Sarah!”</p> +<p>“And the ‘Daily Whisper’ will get +Lonsdale’s most delectable version, and +blow it with the four winds of heaven to +the four corners of the civilized world.”</p> +<p>“Sarah Sandys, I—”</p> +<p>“Worse still! that poor girl whom you +treated so abominably, must suffer the +whole thing over again. Her name will be +put as the head and front of your offending. +All her sorrows and heartbreak will +be made a penny mouthful for country +bumpkins and scandalous gammers to +‘Oh!’ and ‘Ah!’ over. Ulfar, if you are +a man, you will not give her a moment’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +terror of such consequences. You may +see that she fears them, by her sending her +brother to entreat your absence.”</p> +<p>“And I must be called coward and +runaway!”</p> +<p>“Let them call you anything they like, +so that you spare her further shame and +sorrow.”</p> +<p>“Your talking in this fashion to me, +Sarah, is very like Satan correcting sin. +I loved Aspatria when I met you in +Rome.”</p> +<p>“Of course! Adam always has his Eve +ready. ‘Not my fault, good people! +Look at this woman! With her bright +smiles and her soft tongue she beguiled +me; and so I fell!’ We can settle that +question, you and I, again. Now you +must ring the bell, and order your horse—say, +at four o’clock to-morrow morning. +You can have nearly six hours’ sleep,—quite +enough for you.”</p> +<p>“You have not convinced me, Sarah.”</p> +<p>“Then you must ride now, and be convinced +afterward. For your sister’s sake +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +and for Aspatria’s sake, you will surely go +away.”</p> +<p>Lady Redware was crying, and she cried +a little harder to emphasize Sarah’s pleading. +Ulfar was in a hard strait. He +looked angrily at the handsome little +woman urging him to do the thing he +hated to do, and then taking the kerchief +from his sister’s face, he kissed her, and +promised to leave Redware at dawn of +day.</p> +<p>“But,” said he, “if you send me away +now, I tell you, our parting is likely to be +for many years, perhaps for life. I am +going beyond civilization, and so beyond +scandal.”</p> +<p>“Do not flatter yourself so extravagantly, +Ulfar. There is scandal everywhere, +and always has been, even from +the beginning. I have no doubt those +nameless little sisters of Cain and Abel +were talked about unpleasantly by their +sisters and brothers-in-law. In fact, wherever +there are women there are men glad +to pull them down to their own level.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span></div> +<p>“Is it not very hard, +then, that I am not to +be permitted to stay +here and defend the +women I love?”</p> +<p>Sarah shook her +head. “It is beyond +your power, Ulfar. If +Porthos were on earth +again, or Amadis of +Gaul, they might have +happy and useful careers +in handling as they +deserve the maligners +of good, quiet women. +But the men of this +era!—which of them +durst lift the stone that +the hand without sin is +permitted to cast?”</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:192px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_33' id='linki_33'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0175.jpg' alt='' title='' width='192' height='600' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>So they talked</span> the +night away, drifting +gradually from the unpleasant +initial subject to +Ulfar’s plan of travel and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +the far-off prospect of his return. And in +the gray, cold dawn he bade them farewell, +and they watched him until he vanished in +the mists rolling down the mountain. Then +they kissed each other,—a little, sad kiss +of congratulation, wet with tears; they had +won their desire, but their victory had left +them weeping. Alas! it is the very condition +of success that every triumph must be +baptized with somebody’s tears.</p> +<p>This event, beginning in such a trifle as +an almost accidental visit of Aspatria to +the vicar, was the line sharply dividing +very different lives. Nothing in Seat-Ambar +was ever quite the same after it. +William Anneys, indeed, quickly perceived +and acknowledged his fault, and the reconciliation +was kind and complete; but Aspatria +had taken a step forward, and crossed +clearly that bound which divides girlhood +from womanhood. Unconsciously she assumed +a carriage that Will felt compelled +to respect, and a tone was in her voice he +did not care to bluff and contradict. He +never again ordered her to remain silent or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +to leave his presence. A portion of his +household authority had passed from him, +both as regarded Aspatria and Brune; and +he felt himself to be less master than he +had formerly been.</p> +<p>Perhaps this was one reason of the growing +frequency of his visits to Frostham. +There he was made much of, deferred to, +and all his little fancies flattered and +obeyed. Will knew he was the most important +person in the world to Alice +Frostham; and he knew, also, that he +only shared Aspatria’s heart with Ulfar +Fenwick. Men like the whole heart, and +nothing less than the whole heart; hence +Alice’s influence grew steadily all through +the summer days, full to the brim of happy +labour and reasonable love. As early as +the haymaking Will told Aspatria that +Alice was coming to Seat-Ambar as its +mistress; and when the harvest was gathered +in, the wedding took place. It was +as noisily jocund an affair as Aspatria’s +had been silent and sorrowful; and Alice +Frostham, encircled by Will’s protecting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +arm, was led across the threshold of her +own new home, to the sound of music and +rejoicing.</p> +<p>The home was quickly divided, though +without unkind intent. Will and Alice had +their own talk, their own hopes and plans, +and Aspatria and Brune generally felt that +their entrance interfered with some discussion. +So Aspatria and Brune began to +sit a great deal in Aspatria’s room, and by +and by to discuss, in a confidential way, +what they were to do with their future. +Brune had no definite idea. Aspatria’s +intents were clear and certain. But she +knew that she must wait until the spring +brought her majority and her freedom.</p> +<p>One frosty day, near Christmas, as Brune +was returning from Dalton, he heard himself +called in a loud, cheerful voice. He +was passing Seat-Ketel, and he soon saw +Harry Ketel coming quickly toward him. +Harry wore a splendid scarlet uniform; and +the white snow beneath his feet, and the +dark green pines between which he walked, +made it all the more splendid by their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +contrast. Brune had not seen Harry for +five years; but they had been companions +through their boyhood, and their memories +were stored with the pleasant hours +they had spent together.</p> +<p>Brune passed that night, and many subsequent +ones, with his old friend; and when +Harry went back to his regiment he took +with him a certainty that Brune would +soon follow. In fact, Harry had found his +old companion in that mood which is +ready to accept the first opening as the +gift of fate. Brune found there was a +commission to be bought in the Household +Foot-Guards, and he was well able to +pay for it. Indeed, Brune was by no +means a poor man; his father had left +him seven thousand pounds, and his share +of the farm’s proceeds had been constantly +added to it.</p> +<p>Aspatria was delighted. She might now +go to London in Brune’s care. They discussed +the matter constantly, and began +to make the preparations necessary for the +change. But affairs were not then arranged +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +by steam and electricity, and the +letters relating to the purchase and transfer +of Brune’s commission occupied some +months in their transit to and fro; although +Brune did not rely upon the postman’s +idea of the practicability of the roads.</p> +<p>Aspatria’s correspondence was also uncertain +and unsatisfactory for some time. +She had at first no guide to a school but +the advertisements in the London papers +which Harry sent to his friend. But one +night Brune, without any special intention, +named the matter to Mrs. Ketel; and that +lady was able to direct Aspatria to an +excellent school in Richmond, near London. +And as she was much more favourably +situated for a quick settlement of +the affair, she undertook the necessary +correspondence.</p> +<p>Will was not ignorant of these movements, +but Alice induced him to be passive +in them. “No one can then blame us, +Will, whatever happens.” And as Will +and Alice were extremely sensitive to +public opinion, this was a good consideration. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +Besides Alice, not unnaturally, +wished to have the Seat to herself; so +that Aspatria’s and Brune’s wishes fitted +admirably into her own desires, and it +gave her a kind of selfish pleasure to +forward them.</p> +<p>The ninth of March was Aspatria’s +twenty-first birthday; and it was to her a +very important anniversary, for she received +as its gift her freedom and her fortune. +There was no hitch or trouble in +its transfer from Will to herself. Honour +and integrity were in the life-blood of +William Anneys, honesty and justice the +very breath of his nostrils. Aspatria’s +fortune had been guarded with a super-sensitive +care; and when years gave her its +management, Will surrendered it cheerfully +to her control.</p> +<p>Fortunately, the school selected by +Mrs. Ketel satisfied Will thoroughly; and +Brune’s commission in the Foot-Guards +was in honourable accord with the highest +traditions and spirit of the dales. For the +gigantic and physically handsome men of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +these mountain valleys have been for centuries +considered the finest material for +those regiments whose duty it is to guard +the +persons +and the +homes of +royalty. Brune +had only followed in the +steps of a great number of his +ancestors.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_34' id='linki_34'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0182.jpg' alt='' title='' width='419' height='368' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>In the beginning of April, Aspatria +left Seat-Ambar for London,—left +forever all the pettiness of her house life, +chairs and tables, sewing and meals, and +the useless daily labour that has to be continually +done over again. And at the last +Will was very tender with her, and even +Alice did her best to make the parting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +days full of hope and kindness. As for +the journey, there was no anxiety; Brune +was to travel with his sister, and see her +safely within her new home.</p> +<p>Yet neither of them left the old home +without some tears. Would they ever see +again those great, steadfast hills, that +purify those who walk upon them; ever +dwell again within the dear old house, that +had not been builded, but had grown with +the family it had sheltered, through a +thousand years? They hardly spoke to +each other, as they drove through the +sweet valleys, where the sunshine laid a +gold on the green, and the warm south-wind +gently rocked the daisies, and the +lark’s song was like a silvery water-fall up +in the sky.</p> +<p>But they were young; and, oh, the rich +significance of the word “young” when the +heart is young as well as the body, when +the thoughts are not doubts, and when the +eyes look not backward, but only forward, +into a bright future!</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_LOVE_SHALL_BE_LORD_OF_SANDYSIDE' id='CHAPTER_VI_LOVE_SHALL_BE_LORD_OF_SANDYSIDE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI. +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />“LOVE SHALL BE LORD OF SANDY-SIDE.”</span></h2> +</div> +<p>During thirty years of the first half of +this century Mrs. St. Alban’s finishing +school for young gentlewomen was a +famous institution of its kind. For she +had been born to the manner of courts +and of people of high degree; and when +evil fortune met her, she very wisely +turned her inherited social advantages into +a means of honest livelihood. Aspatria +was much impressed by her noble bearing +and fine manners, and by the elaborate +state in which the twelve pupils, of whom +she was one, lived.</p> +<p>Each had her own suite of apartments; +each was expected to keep a maid, and to +dress with the utmost care and propriety. +There were fine horses in the stables for +their equestrian exercise, there were grooms +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +to attend them during it, and there were +regular reception-days, which afforded +tyros in social accomplishments practical +opportunities for cultivating the graceful +and gracious urbanity which evidences +really fine breeding.</p> +<p>Many of Aspatria’s companions were of +high rank,—Lady Julias and Lady Augustas, +who were destined to wear ducal +coronets and to stand around the throne +of their young queen. But they were +always charmingly pleasant and polite, +and Aspatria soon acquired their outward +form of calm deliberation and their mode +of low, soft speech. For the rest, she +decided, with singular prudence, to cultivate +only those talents which nature had +obviously granted her.</p> +<p>A few efforts proved that she had no +taste for art. Indeed, the attempt to portray +the majesty of the mountains or the +immensity of the ocean seemed to her +childishly petty and futile. She had dwelt +among the high places and been familiar +with the great sea, and to make images of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +them appeared a kind of sacrilege. But +she liked the study of languages, and she +had a rich contralto voice capable of expressing +all the emotions of the heart. At +the piano she hesitated; its music, under +her unskilled fingers, sounded mechanical; +she doubted her ability to put a soul into +that instrument. But the harp was different; +its strings held sympathetic tones she +felt competent to master. To these studies +she added a course of English literature +and dancing. She was already a fine +rider, and her information obtained from +the vicar’s library and the Encyclopædia +covered an enormous variety of subjects, +though it was desultory, and in many +respects imperfect.</p> +<p>Her new life was delightful to her. She +had an innate love for study, for quiet, and +for elegant surroundings. These tastes +were fully gratified. The large house stood +in a fair garden, surrounded by very high +walls, with entrance-gates of handsomely +wrought iron. Perfect quiet reigned within +this flowery enclosure. She could study +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +without the constant interruptions which +had annoyed her at home; and she was +wisely aided in her studies by masters +whose low +voices and gliding +steps seemed only to accentuate the +peace of the wide schoolroom, +with its perfect appointments +and its placid group of +beautiful students.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_35' id='linki_35'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0187.jpg' alt='' title='' width='424' height='440' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>On Saturdays Brune generally +spent several hours +with her; and if the weather +were fine, they rode or walked in the Park. +Brune was a constant wonder to Aspatria. +Certainly his handsome uniform had done +much for him, but there was a greater +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +change than could be effected by mere +clothes. Without losing that freshness and +singleness of mind he owed to his country +training, he had become a man of fashion, +a little of a dandy, a very innocent sort of +a lady-killer. His arrival caused always a +faint flutter in Mrs. St. Alban’s dove-cot, +and the noble damosels found many little +womanly devices to excuse their passing +through the parlour while Brune was present. +They liked to see him bend his +beautiful head to them; and Lady Mary +Boleyn, who was Aspatria’s friend and +companion, was mildly envied the privileges +this relation gave her.</p> +<p>During the vacations Aspatria was always +the guest of one or other of her +mates, though generally she spent them +at the splendid seat of the Boleyns in +Hampshire, and the unconscious education +thus received was of the greatest value to +her. It gave the ease of nature to acquired +accomplishments, and, above all, +that air which we call distinction, which is +rarely natural, and is attained only by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +frequent association with those who dwell +on the highest social peaks.</p> +<p>Much might be said of this phase of +Aspatria’s life which may be left to the +reader’s imagination. For three years it +saw only such changes as advancing intelligence +and growing friendships made. +The real change was in Aspatria personally. +No one could have traced without +constant doubt the slim, virginal, unfinished-looking +girl that left Seat-Ambar, +in the womanly perfection of Aspatria +aged twenty-four years. She had grown +several inches taller; her angles had all disappeared; +every joint was softly rounded. +Her hands and arms were exquisite; her +throat and the poise of her head like those +of a Greek goddess. Her hair was darker +and more abundant, and her eyes retained +all their old charm, with some rarer and +nobler addition.</p> +<p>To be sure, she had not the perfect regularity +of feature that distinguished some +of her associates, that exact beauty which +Titian’s Venus possesses, and which makes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +no man’s heart beat a throb the faster. +Her face had rather the mobile irregularity +of Leonardo’s Mona Lisa, the charming +face that men love passionately, the face +that men can die for.</p> +<p>At the close of the third year she refused +all invitations for the summer holidays, +and went back to Seat-Ambar. +There had not been much communication +between Will and herself. He was occupied +with his land and his sheep, his wife +and his two babies. People then took +each other’s affection as a matter of course, +without the daily assurance of it. About +twice a year Will had sent her a few +strong words of love, and a bare description +of any change about the home, or +else Alice had covered a sheet with pretty +nothings, written in the small, pointed, +flowing characters then fashionable.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_36' id='linki_36'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0191.jpg' alt='' title='' width='505' height='256' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>But the love of Aspatria for her home +depended on no such trivial, accidental +tokens. It was in her blood; her personality +was knotted to Seat-Ambar by centuries +of inherited affection; she could test +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +it by the fact that it would have killed her +to see it pass into a stranger’s hands. When +once she had turned her face northward, +it seemed impossible to travel quickly +enough. Hundreds of miles away she +felt the cool wind blowing through the +garden, and the scent of the damask rose +was on it. She heard the gurgling of +the becks and the wayside streams, and the +whistling of the boys in the barn, and the +tinkling of the sheep-bells on the highest +fells. The raspberries were ripe in their +sunny corner; she tasted them afar off. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +The dark oak rooms, their perfume of +ancient things, their air of homelike comfort,—it +was all so vivid, so present to her +memory, that her heart beat and thrilled, +as the breast of a nursing mother thrills +and beats for her longing babe.</p> +<p>She had told no one she was coming; +for, the determination made, she knew +that she would reach home before the +Dalton postman got the letter to Seat-Ambar. +The gig she had hired she left +at the lower garden gate; and then she +walked quickly through the rose-alley up +to the front door. It stood open, and +she heard a baby crying. How strange +the wailing notes sounded! She went +forward, and opened the parlour door; +Alice was washing the child, and she +turned with an annoyed look to see the +intruder.</p> +<p>Of course the expression changed, but +not quickly enough to prevent Aspatria +seeing that her visit was inopportune. +Alice said afterward that she did not recognize +her sister-in-law, and, as Will met her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +precisely as he would have met an entire +stranger, Alice’s excuse was doubtless a +valid one. There were abundant exclamations +and rejoicings when her identity was +established, but Will could do nothing all +the evening but wonder over the changes +that had taken place in his sister.</p> +<p>However, when the first joy of reunion +is over, it is a prudent thing not to try too +far the welcome that is given to the home-comer +who has once left home. Will and +Alice had grown to the idea that Aspatria +would never return to claim the room +in Seat-Ambar which was hers legally so +long as she lived. It had been refurnished +and was used as a guest-room. Aspatria +looked with dismay on the changes made. +Her very sampler had been sent away,—the +bit of canvas made sacred by her +mother’s fingers holding her own over it. +She could remember the instances connected +with the formation of almost every +letter of its simple prayer,—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>Jesus, permit thy gracious name to stand</p> +<p>As the first effort of my infant hand;</p> +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span></p> +<p>And, as my fingers on the sampler move,</p> +<p>Engage my tender heart to seek thy love.</p> +<p>With thy dear children may I have a part,</p> +<p>And write thy Name, thyself, upon my heart.</p> +</div></div> +<p>And it was gone! She went into the +lumber-room, and picked it out from under +a pile of old prints and shabbily framed +certificates for prize cattle.</p> +<p>With a sad heart Aspatria regarded the +other changes. Her little tent-bed, with +its white dimity curtains, had been given +to baby’s nurse. The vase her father had +bought her at Kendal fair was broken. +Her small mirror and dressing-table had +been removed for a fine Psyche in a +gilded frame. Nothing, nothing was untouched, +but the big dower-chest into +which she had flung her wretched wedding-clothes. +She stood silently before it, +reflecting, with excusable ill-nature, that +neither Will nor Alice knew the secret of +its spring. Her mother had taught it to +her, and that bit of knowledge she determined +to keep to herself.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_37' id='linki_37'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0195.jpg' alt='' title='' width='477' height='400' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>After some hesitation she tried the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +spring: it answered her pressure at once; +the lid flew back, and there lay the unhappy +white satin dress, the wreath, and +veil, and slippers, just as she had tumbled +them in. The bitter hour came sharply +back to her; she thought and gazed, and +thought and gazed, until she felt herself +to be weeping. Then she softly closed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +the lid, and, as she did so, a smile parted +her lips,—a smile that denied all that her +tears said; a smile of hope, of good presage, +of coming happiness.</p> +<p>She stayed only a week at Seat-Ambar, +though she had originally intended to +remain until the harvest was over. The +time was spent in public festivity; every +one in Allerdale was invited to give her a +fitting welcome. But the very formality +of all this entertainment pained her. It +was, after all, only a cruel evidence that +Will and Alice did not care to take her into +their real home-life. She would rather +have sat alone with them, and talked of +their hopes and plans, and been permitted +to make friends of the babies.</p> +<p>So far away, so far away as she had +drifted in three years from the absent living! +Would the dead be kinder? She +went to Aspatria Church and sat down in +her mother’s seat, and let the strange spiritual +atmosphere which hovers in old +churches fill her heart with its supernatural +influence. All around her were the graves +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +of her +fore-elders, +strong elemental +men, simple +God-loving women. +Did they know her? +Did they care for her? +Her soul looked with +piteous entreaty into the void behind it, +but there was no answer; only that dreadful +silence of the dead, which presses upon +the drum of the ear like thunder.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_38' id='linki_38'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0197.jpg' alt='' title='' width='422' height='493' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>She went into the quiet yard around the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +church. The ancient, ancient sun shone +on the young grass. Over her mother’s +grave the sweet thyme had grown luxuriantly. +She rubbed her hands in it, and +spread them toward heaven with a prayer. +Then peace came into her heart, and she +felt as if eyes, unseen heavenly eyes, +rained happy influence upon her. Thus +it is that death imparts to life its most +intense interest; for, kneeling in his very +presence, Aspatria forgot the mortality of +her parents, and did reverence to that +within them which was eternal.</p> +<p>She returned to London, and was a little +disappointed there also. Mrs. St. Alban +had promised herself an absolute release +from any outside element. She felt Aspatria +a trifle in the way, and, though far +too polite to show her annoyance, Aspatria +by some similar instinct divined it. +That is the way always. When we plan +for ourselves, all our plans fail. Happy +are they who learn early to let fate alone, +and never interfere with the Powers who +hold the thread of their destiny!</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span></div> +<p>It was not until she had reached this +mood, a kind of content indifference, that +her good genius could work for her. She +then sent Brune as her messenger, and +Brune took his sister to meet her on Richmond +Hill. On their way thither they +talked about Seat-Ambar, and Will and +Alice, until Aspatria suddenly noticed that +Brune was not listening to her. His eyes +were fixed upon a lovely woman approaching +them. It was Sarah Sandys. Brune +stood bareheaded to receive her salutation.</p> +<p>“I never should have known you, Lieutenant +Anneys,” she said, extending her +hand, and beaming like sunshine on the +handsome officer, “had not your colonel +Jardine been in Richmond to-day. He is +very proud of you, sir, and said so many +fine things of you that I am ambitious to +show him that we are old acquaintances. +May I know, through you, Mrs. Anneys +also?”</p> +<p>“This is my sister, Mrs. Sandys,—my +sister—” Brune hesitated a moment, and +then said firmly, “Miss Anneys.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span></div> +<p>Then Sarah insisted on taking them to +her house to lunch; and there she soon +had them under her influence. She waited +on them with ravishing smiles and all sorts +of pretty offices. She took them in her +handsome carriage to drive, she insisted +on their remaining to dinner. And before +the drive was over, she had induced Aspatria +to extend her visit until the opening +of Mrs. St. Alban’s school.</p> +<p>“We three are from the north country,” +she said, with an air of relationship; “and +how absurd for Miss Anneys to be alone at +Mrs. St. Alban’s, where she is not wanted, +and for me to be alone here, when I desire +her society so much!”</p> +<p>Aspatria was much pleased to receive +such a delightful invitation, and a messenger +was sent at once for her maid. Mrs. +St. Alban was quite ready to resign Aspatria, +and the maid was as glad as her mistress +to leave the lonely mansion. In an +hour or two she had removed Aspatria’s +wardrobe, and was arranging the pleasant +rooms Mrs. Sandys had placed at her +guest’s disposal.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span></div> +<p>Sarah was evidently bent on conquest. +Her toilet was a marvellous combination +of some shining blue and white texture, +mingled with pink roses and gold ornaments. +Her soft fair +hair was loosened +and curled, and she +had a childlike manner +of being carelessly +happy. Brune +sat at her right hand; +she talked to him in +smiles and glances, +and gave her words +to Aspatria. She +was determined to +please both sister +and brother, and she +succeeded. Aspatria +thought she had +never in all her life seen a woman so lovable, +so amusing, so individual.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:241px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_39' id='linki_39'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0201.jpg' alt='' title='' width='241' height='391' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>Brune was naturally</span> shy and silent +among women. Sarah made him eloquent, +because she had the tact to discover +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +the subject on which he could talk,—his +regiment, and its sayings and doings. +So Brune was delighted with himself; he +had never before suspected how clever he +was. Stimulated by Sarah’s and Aspatria’s +laughter and curiosity, he found it +easy to retail funny little bits of palace and +mess gossip, and to describe the queer +men and the vain men and the fine fellows +that were his familiars.</p> +<p>“And pray how do you amuse yourself, +Lieutenant? Do you drink wine, and +gamble, and go to the races, and bet your +purse empty?”</p> +<p>“I was never brought up in such ways,” +Brune answered, “and, I can tell you, I +wouldn’t make believe to like them. +There are a good many dalesmen in my +company, and none of us enjoy anything +more than a fair throw or an in-lock.”</p> +<p>“A throw or an in-lock! What do you +mean, Lieutenant? You must explain +yourself to Miss Anneys and myself.”</p> +<p>“Aspatria knows well enough. Did +you ever see north-country lads wrestling, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +madam? No? Then you have as fine a +thing in keeping for your eyes as human +creatures can show you. I’ll warrant that! +Why-a! wrestling brings all men to their +level. When Colonel Jardine is ugly-tempered, +and top-heavy with his authority, a +few sound throws over Timothy Sutcliffe’s +head does bring him to level very well. I +had a little in-play with him yesterday; +for in the wrestling-ring we be all equals, +though out of it he is my colonel.”</p> +<p>“Now for the in-play. Tell me about +it, for I see Miss Anneys is not at all +interested.”</p> +<p>“Colonel Jardine is a fine wrestler; a +fair match he would be even for brother +Will. Yesterday he said he could throw +me; and I took the challenge willingly. +So we shook hands, and went squarely for +the throw. I was in good luck, and soon +got my head under his right arm, and his +head close down to my left side. Then it +was only to get my right arm up to his +shoulder, and lift him as high as my head, +and, when so, lean backward and throw +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +him over my head: we call it the Flying +Horse.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I can see it very well. No wonder +Rosalind fell in love with Orlando when +he threw the wrestler Charles.”</p> +<p>“Were they north-country or Cornish +men?”</p> +<p>She was far too kindly and polite to +smile; indeed, she gave Aspatria a pretty, +imperative glance, and answered, in the +most natural manner, “I think they were +Italians.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” said Brune, with some contempt. +“Chaff on their ways! The Devonshire +wrestlers are brutal; the Cornish are too +slow; but the Cumberland men wrestle +like gentlemen. They meet square and +level in the ring, and the one who could +carry ill-will for a fair throw would very +soon find himself out of all rings and all +good fellowship.”</p> +<p>“You said ‘even brother Will.’ Is your +brother a better wrestler than you?”</p> +<p>“My song! he is that! Will has his +match, though. We had a ploughman +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +once,—Aspatria remembers him,—Robert +Steadman, an upright, muscular young +fellow, civil and respectful as could be in +everything about his work and place; but +on wet days when we were all, masters and +servants, in the barn together, it was a +sight to see Robert wrestling with Will for +the mastery, and Will never so ready to +say, ‘Well done!’ nor the rest of us so +happy, as when we saw Will’s two brawny +legs going handsomely over Robert’s +head.”</p> +<p>“If I were a man, I should try to be a +fine wrestler.”</p> +<p>“It is a great comfort,” said Brune. +“If you have a quarrel of any kind, it is a +deal more satisfactory to meet your man, +and throw him a few times over your head, +than to go to law with him. It puts a +stop to unpleasantness very quickly and +very good-naturedly.”</p> +<p>Then Sarah rose and opened the piano, +and from its keys dashed out a lilting, +hurrying melody, like the galloping of +horses and shaking of bridles; and in a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +few moments she began to sing, and Brune +went to her side, and, because she looked +so steadily into his eyes, he could remember +nothing at all of the song but its +dashing refrain,—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p class='indent4'>“For he whom I wed</p> +<p class='indent4'>Must be north country bred,</p> +<p>And must carry me back to the North Countrie.”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Then Aspatria played some wonderful +music on her harp, and Sarah and Brune +sat still and listened to their own hearts, +and sent out shy glances, and caught +each other in the act, and Brune was +made nervous, and Sarah gay, by the +circumstance.</p> +<p>By and by they began to talk of schools, +and of how much Aspatria had learned; +and so Brune regretted his own ignorance, +and wished he had been more attentive to +his schoolmaster.</p> +<p>Sarah laughed at the wish. “A knowledge +of Shakspeare and the musical +glasses and the Della Cruscans,” she said, +“is for foolish, sentimental women. You +can wrestle, and you can fight, and I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +suppose you can make money, and perhaps +even make love. Is there anything +else a soldier needs?”</p> +<p>“Colonel Jardine is very clever,” continued +Brune, regretfully; “and I had a +good schoolmaster—”</p> +<p>“Nonsense, Lieutenant!” said Sarah. +“None of them are good. They all spoil +your eyes, and seek to lay a curse on you; +that is the confusion of languages.”</p> +<p>“Still, I might have learned Latin.”</p> +<p>“It was the speech of pagans and +infidels.”</p> +<p>“Or logic.”</p> +<p>“Logic hath nothing to say in a good +cause.”</p> +<p>“Or philosophy.”</p> +<p>“Philosophy is curiosity. Socrates was +very properly put to death for it.”</p> +<p>They were all laughing together, when +Sarah condemned Socrates, and the evening +passed like a happy dream away.</p> +<p>It was succeeded by weeks of the same +delight. Aspatria soon learned to love +Sarah. She had never before had a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +woman friend on whom she could rely +and to whom she could open her heart. +Sarah induced her to speak of Ulfar, to +tell her all her suffering and her plans and +hopes, and she gave her in return a true +affection and a most sincere sympathy. +Nothing of the past that referred to Ulfar +was left untold; and as the two women sat +together during the long summer days, +they grew very near to each other, and +there was but one mind and one desire +between them.</p> +<p>So that when the time came for Aspatria +to go back to Mrs. St. Alban’s, Sarah +would not hear of their separation. “You +have had enough of book-learning,” she +said. “Remain with me. We will go to +Paris, to Rome, to Vienna. We will study +through travel and society. It is by rubbing +yourself against all kinds of men and +women that you acquire the finest polish +of life; and then when Ulfar comes back +you will be able to meet him upon all +civilized grounds. And as for the South +Americans, we will buy all the books +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +about them we can find. Are they red +or white or black, I wonder? Are they +pagans or Christians? I seem to remember +that when I was at school I +learned that the Peruvians worshipped +the sun.”</p> +<p>“I think, Sarah, that they are all descendants +of Spaniards; so they must be +Roman Catholics. And I have read that +their women are beautiful and witty.”</p> +<p>“My dear Aspatria, nothing goes with +Spaniards but gravity and green olives.”</p> +<p>Aspatria was easily persuaded to accept +Sarah’s offer; she was indeed very happy +in the prospect before her. But Brune was +miserable. He had spent a rapturous +summer, and it was to end without harvest, +or the promise thereof. He could +not endure the prospect, and one night he +made a movement so decided that Sarah +was compelled to set him back a little.</p> +<p>“Were you ever in love, Mrs. Sandys?” +poor Brune asked, with his heart filling his +mouth.</p> +<p>She looked thoughtfully at him a moment, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +and then slowly answered: “I once +felt myself in danger, and I fled to France. +I consider it the finest action of my life.”</p> +<p>Aspatria felt sorry for her brother, and +she said warmly: “I think no one falls in +love now. Love is out of date.”</p> +<p>Sarah enjoyed her temper. “You are +right, dear,” she answered. “Culture +makes love a conscious operation. When +women are all feeling, they fall in love; +when they have intellect and will, they +attach themselves only after a critical +examination of the object.”</p> +<p>Later, when they were alone, Aspatria +took her friend to task for her cruelty: +“You know Brune loves you, Sarah; and +you do love him. Why make him miserable? +Has he presumed too far?”</p> +<p>“No, indeed! He is as adoring and +humble as one could wish a future lord +and master to be.”</p> +<p>“Well, then?”</p> +<p>“I will give our love time to grow. +When we come back, if Brune has been +true to me in every way, he may fall to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +blessing himself with both hands;” and +then she began to sing,—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“Betide, betide, whatever betide,</p> +<p>Love shall be Lord of Sandy-Side!”</p> +</div></div> +<p>“Love is a burden two hearts carry very +easily together, but, oh, Sarah! I know +how hard it is to bear it alone. Therefore +I say, be kind to Brune while you can.”</p> +<p>“My dear, your idea is a very pretty +one. I read the other day a Hindu +version of it that smelled charmingly of +the soil,—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>‘A clapping is not made with one hand alone:</p> +<p>Your love, my beloved, must answer my own.’”</p> +</div></div> +<p>But in spite of such reflections, Sarah’s +will and intellect were predominant, and +she left poor Brune with only such hope +as he could glean from the lingering pressure +of her hand and the tears in her +eyes. Aspatria’s pleading had done no +good. Perhaps it had done harm; for the +very nature of love is that it should be +spontaneous.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_A_ROSE_OF_A_HUNDRED_LEAVES' id='CHAPTER_VII_A_ROSE_OF_A_HUNDRED_LEAVES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII. +<span class='chsub'> <br /><br />“A ROSE OF A HUNDRED LEAVES.”</span></h2> +</div> +<p>One morning in spring Aspatria stood +in a balcony overlooking the principal +thoroughfare of Rome,—the Rome of papal +government, mythical, mystical, mediæval +in its character. A procession of friars +had just passed; a handsome boy was crying +violets; some musical puppets were +performing in the shadow of the opposite +palace; a party of brigands were going to +the Angelo prison; the spirit of Cæsar was +still abroad in the black-browed men and +women, lounging and laughing in their +gaudy, picturesque costumes; and the spirit +of ecclesiasticism lifted itself above every +earthly object, and touched proudly the +bells of a thousand churches. Aspatria +was weary of all.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:287px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_40' id='linki_40'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0213.jpg' alt='' title='' width='287' height='470' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>She had that</span> morning an imperative +nostalgia. She could see nothing but the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +mountains of Cumberland, and the white +sheep wandering about their green sides. +Through the church-bells +she heard the +sheep-bells. +Above the boy +crying violets +she heard the +boy whistling +in the fresh-ploughed +furrow. +As for the violets, +she knew +how the wild +ones were blowing +in Ambar +wood, and how +in the garden the +daffodil-beds were aglow, +and the sweet thyme humbling +itself at their feet, because +each bore a chalice. Oh for a +breath from the mountains and the sea! +The hot Roman streets, with their ever-changing +human elements of sorrow and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +mirth, sin and prayer, riches and poverty, +made her sad and weary.</p> +<p>Sarah came toward her with a letter in +her hand. “Ria,” she said, “this is from +Lady Redware. Your husband will be in +England very shortly.”</p> +<p>It was the first time Sarah had ever +called Ulfar Aspatria’s husband. In conversation +the two women had always +spoken of him as “Ulfar.” The change +was significant. It implied that Sarah +thought the time had come for Aspatria +to act decisively.</p> +<p>“I shall be delighted to go back to +England. We have been twenty months +away, Sarah. I was just feeling as if it +were twenty years.”</p> +<p>Sarah looked critically at the woman +who was going to cast her last die for love. +She was so entirely different from the girl +who had first won that love, how was it +possible for her to recapture the same +sweet, faithless emotion? She had a swift +memory of the slim girl in the plain black +frock whom she had seen sitting under the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +whin-bushes. And then she glanced at +Aspatria standing under the blue-and-red +awning of the Roman palace. She was +now twenty-six years old, and in the very +glory of her womanhood, tall, superbly +formed, graceful, calm, and benignant. +Her face was luminous with intellect and +feeling, her manner that of a woman high-bred +and familiar with the world. Culture +had done all for her that the lapidary does +for the diamond; travel and social advantages +had added to the gem a golden setting. +She was so little like the sorrowful +child whom Ulfar had last seen in the +vicar’s meadow that Sarah felt instantaneous +recognition to be almost impossible.</p> +<p>After some hesitation, Aspatria agreed +to accept Sarah’s plan and wait in Richmond +the development of events. At first +she had been strongly in favour of a +return to Seat-Ambar. “If Ulfar really +wants to see me,” she said, “he will be +most likely to seek me there.”</p> +<p>“But then, Ria, he may think he does +not want to see you. Men never know +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +what they really do want. You have to +give them ‘leadings.’ If Ulfar can look on +you now and have no curiosity about your +identity, I should say the man was not +worth a speculation from any point. See +if you have hold sufficient on his memory +to pique his curiosity. If you have, lead +him wherever you wish.”</p> +<p>“But how? And where?”</p> +<p>“Do I carry a divining-cup, Ria? Can +I foresee the probabilities of a man so impossible +as Ulfar Fenwick? I only know +that Richmond is a good place to watch +events from.”</p> +<p>And of course the Richmond house +suited Brune. His love had grown to the +utmost of Sarah’s expectations, and he was +no longer to be put off with smiles and +pleasant words. Sarah had promised him +an answer when she returned, and he +claimed it with a passionate persistence +that had finally something imperative in it. +To this mood Sarah succumbed; though +she declared that Brune had chosen the +morning of all others most inconvenient +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +for her. She was just leaving the house. +She was going to London about her +jewels. Brune had arrested the coachman +by a peremptory movement, and he looked +as if he were quite prepared to lift Sarah +out of the carriage.</p> +<p>So Aspatria went alone. She was glad +of the swift movement in the fresh air, she +was glad that she could be quiet and let +it blow passively upon her. The restlessness +of watching had made her feverish. +She had the “strait” of a strong mind +which longs to meet her destiny. For her +love for her husband had grown steadily +with her efforts to be worthy of that love, +and she longed to meet him face to face +and try the power of her personality over +him. The trial did not frighten her; she +felt within her the ability to accomplish +it; her feet were on a level with her task; +she was the height of a woman above +it.</p> +<p>Musing on this subject, letting her mind +shoot to and fro like a shuttle between the +past and the present, she reached Piccadilly, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +and entered a large jeweller’s shop. +The proprietor was talking to a gentleman +who was exhibiting a number of uncut +gems. Aspatria knew him instantly. It +was Ulfar Fenwick,—the same Ulfar, older, +and yet distinctly handsomer. For the +dark hair slightly whitened, and the thin, +worn cheeks, had an intensely human +aspect. She saw that he had suffered; +that the sum of life was on his face,—toil, +difficulty, endurance, mind, and also that +pathetic sadness which tells of endurance +without avail.</p> +<p>She went to the extreme end of the +counter, and began to examine the jewels +which Sarah had sent to be reset. Some +were finished; others were waiting for the +selection of a particular style, and Aspatria +looked critically at the models shown her. +The occupation gave her an opportunity +to calm and consider herself; she could +look at the jewels a few moments without +expressing an opinion.</p> +<p>Then she gave, in a clear, distinct voice, +some order regarding a pearl necklace; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +and Ulfar turned like a flash, and looked +at the woman who had spoken. She had +the pearls in one hand; the other touched +a satin cushion on which lay many ornaments +of diamonds, sapphires, and rubies. +The moonlight iridescence of the pearls, +the sparkling glory of the gems, seemed +to be a part of her noble beauty. He +forgot his own treasures, and stood looking +at the woman whose voice had called +to him out of the past, had penetrated his +heart like a bell struck sharply in its innermost +room. Who was it? Where had +they met before? He knew the face. He +knew, and yet he did not know, the whole +charming personality. As she turned, +his eyes met her eyes, and the pure pallor +of her cheeks was flooded with crimson.</p> +<p>She passed him within touch; the rustle +of her garments, their faint perfume, the +simple sense of her nearness, thrilled his +being wondrously. And, above all, that +sense of familiarity! What could it mean? +He gave the stones into the jeweller’s care, +and hurriedly followed her steps.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span></div> +<p>“That is Sarah Sandys’s carriage, my +barony for it!” he exclaimed; “and the +men are in the Sandys livery. Sarah, +then, is in Richmond; and the woman +who rides in her carriage is very likely in +her house; but who can it be?”</p> +<p>The face haunted him, the voice tormented +him like a melody that we continually +try to catch. He endeavoured to +place both as he rode out to Richmond. +More than once the thought of Aspatria +came to him, but he could not make any +memory of her fit that splendid vision of +the woman with uplifted hand and the +string of pearls dropping from it. Her +exquisite face, between the beauty of their +reflection and the flashing of the gems +beneath, retained in his memory a kind +of glory. “Such loveliness is the proper +setting for pearls and diamonds,” he said. +“Many a beauty I have seen, but none +that can touch the heel of her shoe.”</p> +<p>For he really thought that it was her +personal charms which had so moved him. +It was the sense of familiarity; it was in a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +far deeper and dimmer way a presentiment +of right, of possession, a feeling of personal +touch in the emotion, which perplexed +and stimulated him +as the mere mystery and +beauty of the +flesh could +never have +done.</p> +<div class='figright' style='width:348px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_41' id='linki_41'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0221.jpg' alt='' title='' width='348' height='394' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>As soon as</span> he +reached the top of +Richmond Hill he +saw Sarah. She was +sauntering along +that loveliest of +cliffs, with Brune. An +orderly was leading +Brune’s horse; he himself +was in the first ecstasy of +Sarah’s acknowledged love. Ulfar went +into the Star and Garter Inn and watched +Sarah. He had no claim upon her, and +yet he felt as if she had been false to him. +“And for a mere soldier!” Then he +looked critically at the soldier, and said, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +with some contempt: “I am sorry for him! +Sarah Sandys will have her pastime, and +then say, ‘Farewell, good sir!’” As for +the mere soldier being Brune Anneys, +that was a thought out of Ulfar’s horizon.</p> +<p>In a couple of hours he went to +Sarah’s. She met him with real delight.</p> +<p>“You are just five years lovelier, Sarah,” +he said.</p> +<p>“Admiration from Sir Ulfar Fenwick is +admiration indeed!”</p> +<p>“Yes; I say you are beautiful, though +I have just seen the most bewitching woman +that ever blessed my eyes,—in your +carriage too.” And then, swift as light +or thought, there flashed across his mind +a conviction that the Beauty and Aspatria +were identical. It was a momentary intelligence; +he grasped it merely as a clew +that might lead him somewhere.</p> +<p>“In my carriage? I dare say it was +Ria. She went to Piccadilly this morning +about some jewels.”</p> +<p>“She reminded me of Aspatria.”</p> +<p>“Have you brought back with you that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +old trouble? I have no mind to hear +more of it.”</p> +<p>“Who is the lady I saw this morning?”</p> +<p>“She is the sister of the man I am going +to marry. In four months she will be +my sister.”</p> +<p>“What is her name?”</p> +<p>“That is to tell you my secret, sir.”</p> +<p>“I saw you throwing your enchantments +over some soldier. I knew just how the +poor fellow felt.”</p> +<p>“Then you also have been in Arcadia. +Be thankful for your past blessings. I do +not expect you to rejoice with me; none +of the apostolic precepts are so hard as +that which bids us rejoice with those who +do rejoice.”</p> +<p>“Neither Elizabeth nor you have ever +named Aspatria in your letters.”</p> +<p>“Did you expect us to change guard +over Ambar-Side? I dare say Aspatria +has grown into a buxom, rosy-cheeked +woman and quite forgotten you.”</p> +<p>“I must go and see her.”</p> +<p>“I think you ought. Also, you should +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +give her her freedom. I consider your +behaviour a dog-in-the-manger atrocity.”</p> +<p>“Can you not pick nicer words, Sarah?”</p> +<p>“I would not if I could.”</p> +<p>“Sarah, tell me truly, have I lost my +good looks?”</p> +<p>She regarded him attentively a moment, +and answered: “Not quite. You have +some good points yet. You have grown +thin and gray, and lost something, and +perhaps gained something; but you are +not very old, and then, you know, you +have your title, and your castle, and your +very old, old family, and I suppose a good +deal of money.” In reality, she was sure +that he had never before been so attractive; +for he had now the magic of a +countenance informed by intellect and +experience, eyes brimming with light, lips +neither loose nor coarse, yet full of passion +and the faculty of enjoyment.</p> +<p>He smiled grimly at Sarah’s list of his +charms, and said, “When will you introduce +me to your future sister?”</p> +<p>“This evening. Come about nine. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +have a few sober people who will be +delighted to hear your South American +adventures. Ria goes to Lady Chester’s +ball soon after nine. Do not miss your +chance.”</p> +<p>“Could I see her now?”</p> +<p>“You could not.”</p> +<p>“What for?”</p> +<p>“Do you suppose she would leave a +<i>modiste</i> for—you?”</p> +<p>“I wonder where Aspatria is!”</p> +<p>“Go and find out.”</p> +<p>“Sarah, who is the young lady I saw in +your carriage?”</p> +<p>“She is the sister of the officer you saw +me with, the man I am going to marry.”</p> +<p>“Where did you meet him?”</p> +<p>“At a friend’s house.”</p> +<p>“Where did you meet her?”</p> +<p>“Her brother brought her to my house. +I asked her to stay with me, and finally we +went to Italy together.”</p> +<p>“She has a very aristocratic manner.”</p> +<p>“She ought to have. She was educated +at Mrs. St. Alban’s, and she visits at the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +Earl of Arundel’s, the Duke of Norfolk’s, +and the very exclusive Boleyns’,—Lady +Mary Boleyn is her friend, and she has +also had the great advantage of my society +for nearly two years.”</p> +<p>“Then of course she is not Aspatria, +and my heart is a liar, and my memory is +a traitor, and my eyes do not see correctly. +I will call about nine. I am at the Star +and Garter. If she should name me at +all—”</p> +<p>“Do you imagine she noticed you? and +in such a public place as Howell’s?”</p> +<p>“I really do imagine she noticed me. +Ask her.”</p> +<p>“I see you are in love again. After all +that experience has done for you! It is a +Nemesis, Ulfar. I have often noticed that, +however faithless a man may be, there +comes at last one woman who avenges +all the rest. Enter Nemesis at nine +to-night!”</p> +<p>“Sarah, you are an angel.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, Ulfar. I thought you +classed me with the other side.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span></div> +<p>“As for Aspatria—”</p> +<p>“Life is too short to discuss Aspatria. +I remember one day at Redware being +sharply requested to keep silence on that +subject. The wheel of retribution has +made a perfect circle as regards Aspatria! +I shall certainly tell Ria that you have +made her the heroine of your disagreeable +matrimonial romance.”</p> +<p>“No, no, Sarah! Do not say a word +to her. I must wait until nine, I suppose? +And I am so anxious and so fearful, +Sarah.”</p> +<p>“You must wait until nine. And as for +the rest, I know very well that in the present +age a lover’s cares and fears have</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>Dwindled to the smallest span.</p> +</div></div> +<p>Do go to your hotel, and get clothed and +in your right mind. You are most unbecomingly +dressed. Good-by, old friend, +good-by!” And she left him with an +elaborate courtesy.</p> +<p>Ulfar was now in a vortex. Things +went around and around in his consciousness; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +and whenever he endeavoured to +examine events with his reason, then feeling +advanced some unsupported conviction, +and threw him back into the same senseless +whirl of emotion.</p> +<div class='figleft' style='width:219px'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_42' id='linki_42'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0228.jpg' alt='' title='' width='219' height='427' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='nowrap'>He had failed</span> to catch +the point which would +have given him the clew +to the whole mystery,—the +identity of Brune +with the splendidly accoutred +officer Sarah +avowed to be her intended +husband. +Without taking special +note of him, Ulfar had +seen certain signs of birth, +breeding, and assured +position. In his mind +there was a great gulf +between the haughty-looking +soldier and +the simple, handsome, but rather boorish-looking +young Squire of Ambar-Side. +The two individualities were as far apart +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +in social claims as the north and south +poles are apart physically.</p> +<p>And if this beautiful woman were indeed +Aspatria, how could he reconcile the fact +with her education at St. Alban’s, her +friendship with such exalted families, her +relationship to an officer of evident birth +and position? When he thought thus, he +acknowledged the impossibility; but then +no sooner had he acknowledged it than his +heart passionately denied the deduction, +with the simple iteration, “It is Aspatria! +It is Aspatria!”</p> +<p>Aspatria or not, he told himself that he +was at last genuinely in love. Every affair +before was tame, pale, uninteresting. If +it was not Aspatria, then the first Aspatria +was the shadow of the second and real one; +the preface to love’s glorious tale; the prelude +to his song; the gray, sweet dawn to +his perfect day. He could not eat, nor sit +still, nor think reasonably, nor yet stop +thinking. The sun stood still; the minutes +were hours; at four o’clock he wished to +fling the timepiece out of the window.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span></div> +<p>Aspatria had the immense strength of +certainty. She knew. Also, she had +Sarah to advise with. Still better, she +had the conviction that Ulfar loved her. +Perhaps Sarah had exaggerated Ulfar’s +desperate condition; if so, she had done +it consciously, for she knew that as soon +as a woman is sure of her power she puts +on an authority which commands it. +She was now only afraid that Ulfar would +not be kept in suspense long enough, +that Aspatria would forgive him too +easily.</p> +<p>“Do make yourself as puzzling as you +can, for this one night, Aspatria,” she +urged. “Try to outvie and outdo and +even affront that dove-like simplicity he +used to adore in you, and into which you +are still apt to relapse. He told me once +that you looked like a Quakeress when he +first saw you.”</p> +<p>“I was just home from Miss Gilpin’s +school in Kendal. It was a Quaker school. +I have always kept a black gown ready, +like the one he saw me first in.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span></div> +<p>“No black gown to-night. I have a +mind to stay here and see that you turn +the Quakeress into a princess.”</p> +<p>“I will do all you wish. To-night you +shall have your way; but poor Ulfar must +have suffered, and—”</p> +<p>“Poor Ulfar, indeed! Be merry; that +is the best armour against love. What +ruins women? Revery and sentimentality. +A woman who does not laugh ought to +be watched.”</p> +<p>But though she lectured and advised +Aspatria as to the ways of men and the +ways of love, Sarah had not much faith in +her own counsels. “No one can draw +out a programme for a woman’s happiness,” +she mused; “she will not keep to +its lines. Now, I do wonder whether she +will dress gorgeously or not? What did +Solomon in all his glory wear? If Aspatria +only knew how dress catches a man’s +eye, and then touches his vanity, and then +sets fire to his imagination, and finally, +somehow, someway, gets to his heart! If +she only knew,—</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span></div> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>‘All thoughts, all passions, all delights,</p> +<p class='indent2'>Whatever stirs this mortal frame,</p> +<p>Are but the ministers of Love,</p> +<p class='indent2'>And feed his sacred flame!’”</p> +</div></div> +<p>A little before nine, Ulfar entered Sarah’s +drawing-room. It was lighted with wax +candles. It was sweet with fresh violets, +and at the farther end Aspatria stood by +her harp. She was dressed for Lady +Chester’s ball, and was waiting her chaperon; +but there had been a little rebellion +against her leaving without giving her +admirers one song. Every person was +suggesting his or her favourite; and she +stood smiling, uncertain, listening, watching, +for one voice and face.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_43' id='linki_43'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0233.jpg' alt='' title='' width='434' height='529' /> +<br /> +</div> +<p>Her dazzling bodice was clasped with +emeralds; her draperies were of damasked +gauze, shot with gold and silver, and +abloom with flowers. Her fair neck sparkled +with diamonds; and the long white +fingers which touched the strings so firmly +glinted with flashing gems. The moment +Ulfar entered, she saw him. His eyes, full +of fiery prescience, forced her to meet their +inquiry; and then it was that she sat down +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +and filled the room with tinkling notes, +that made every one remember the mountains, +and the merry racing of the spring +winds, and the trickling of half-hidden +fountains.</p> +<p>Sarah advanced with him. She touched +Aspatria slightly, and said: “Hush! a +moment. This is my friend Sir Ulfar +Fenwick, Ria.”</p> +<p>Ria lifted her eyes sweetly to his eyes; +she bowed with the grace and benignity of +a queen, and adroitly avoided speech by +turning the melody into song:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“I never shall forget</p> +<p>The mountain maid that once I met</p> +<p>By the cold river’s side.</p> +<p>I met her on the mountain-side;</p> +<p>She watched her herds unnoticed there:</p> +<p>‘Trim-bodiced maiden, hail!’ I cried.</p> +<p>She answered, ‘Whither, Wanderer?</p> +<p>For thou hast lost thy way.’”</p> +</div></div> +<p>Every word went to Ulfar’s heart, and +amid all the soft cries of delight he alone +was silent. She was beaming with smiles; +she was radiant as a goddess; the light +seemed to vanish from the room when she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +went away. Her adieu was a general one, +excepting to Ulfar. On him she turned +her bright eyes, and courtesied low with +one upward glance. It set his heart on +fire. He knew that glance. They might +say this or that, they might lie to him +neck-deep, he knew it was Aspatria! He +was cross with Sarah. He accused her of +downright deception. He told her frankly +that he believed nothing about the soldier +and his sister.</p> +<p>She bade him come in the morning and +talk to Ria; and he asked impetuously: +“How soon? Twelve, I suppose? How +am I to pass the time until twelve +to-morrow?”</p> +<p>“Why this haste?”</p> +<p>“Why this deception?”</p> +<p>“After seven years’ indifference, are you +suddenly gone mad?”</p> +<p>“I feel as if I was being very badly +used.”</p> +<p>“How does the real Aspatria feel? Go +at once to Ambar-Side.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span></div> +<p>“The real Aspatria is here. I know it! +I feel it!”</p> +<p>“In a court of law, what evidence would +feeling be?”</p> +<p>“In a court of love—”</p> +<p>“Try it.”</p> +<p>“I will, to-morrow, at ten o’clock.”</p> +<p>His impetuosity pleased her. She was +disposed to leave him to Aspatria now. +And Aspatria was disposed on the following +morning to make his confession very +easy to him. She dressed herself in the +simple black gown she had kept ready for +this event. It had the short elbow sleeves, +and the ruffle round the open throat, and +the daffodil against her snowy breast, that +distinguished the first costume he had ever +seen her in. She loosened her hair and +let it fall in two long braids behind her +ears. She was, as far as dress could make +her so, the Aspatria who had held the +light to welcome him to Ambar-Side that +stormy night ten years ago.</p> +<p>He was standing in the middle of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +room, restless and expectant, when she +opened the door. He called her by name, +and went to meet her. She trembled and +was silent.</p> +<p>“Aspatria, it is you! My Life! My +Soul! It is you!”</p> +<p>He took her hands; they were as cold +as ice. He drew her close to his side; he +stooped to see her eyes; he whispered word +upon word of affection,—sweet-meaning +nouns and adjectives that caught a real +physical heat from the impatient heart and +tongue that forged and uttered them.</p> +<p>“Forgive me, my dearest! Forgive me +fully! Forgive me at once and altogether! +Aspatria, I love you! I love none but +you! I will adore you all my life! Speak +one word to me, one word, my love, one +word: say only ‘Ulfar!’”</p> +<p>She forgot in a moment all that she had +suffered. She forgot all she had promised +Sarah, all her intents of coldness, all reproaches; +she forgot even to forgive him. +She just put her arms around his neck and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +kissed him. She blotted out the past forever +in that one whispered word, “Ulfar.”</p> +<p>And then he took her to his heart; he +kissed her for very wonder; he kissed her +for very joy; but most of all he kissed her +for fervent love. Then once more life was +an “Interlude in Heaven.” Every hour +held some sweet surprise, some accidental +joy. It was Brune, it was Sarah, it was +some eulogium of Ulfar in the great London +weeklies. He had fought in the good +fight for freedom; he had done great +deeds of mercy as well as of valour; he had +crossed primeval forests, and brought back +wonderful medicines, and dyes, and many +new specimens for the botanist and the naturalist. +The papers were never weary in +praising his pluck, his bravery, his generosity, +and his endurance; the Geographical +Society sent him its coveted blue +ribbon. In his own way Ulfar had made +himself a fit mate for the new Aspatria.</p> +<p>And she was a constant wonder to him. +Nothing in all his strange experience +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +touched his heart like the thought of his +simple, patient wife, studying to please +him, to be worthy of his love. Every day +revealed her in some new and charming +light. She was one hundred Aspatrias in +a single, lovable, lovely woman. On <ins title='Removed comma'>what</ins> +ever subject Ulfar spoke, she understood, +supplemented, sympathized with, or assisted +him. She could talk in French and +Italian; she was not ignorant of botany +and natural science, and she was delighted +to be his pupil.</p> +<p>In a single month they became all the +world to each other; and then they began +to long for the lonely old castle fronting +the wild North Sea, to plan for its restoration, +and for a sweet home-life, which +alone could satisfy the thirst of their +hearts for each other’s presence. At the +end of June they went northward.</p> +<p>It was the month of the rose, and the +hedges were pink, and the garden was a +garden of roses. There were banks of +roses, mazes of roses, walks and standards +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +of roses, masses of glorious colour, and +breezes scented with roses. Butterflies were +chasing one another among the flowers; +nightingales, languid with love, were singing +softly above them. And in the midst was +a gray old castle, flying its old border +flags, and looking as happy as if it were +at a festival.</p> +<p>Aspatria was enraptured, spellbound +with delight. With Ulfar she wandered +from one beauty to another, until they +finally reached a great standard of pale-pink +roses. Their loveliness was beyond +compare; their scent went to the brain +like some divine essence. It was a glory,—a +prayer,—a song of joy! Aspatria +stood beside it, and seemed to Ulfar but +its mortal manifestation. She was clothed +in a gown of pale-pink brocade, with a +little mantle of the same, trimmed with +white lace, and a bonnet of white lace and +pink roses. She was a perfect rose of +womanhood. She was the glory of his +life, his prayer, his song of joy!</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span></div> +<p>“It is the loveliest place in the world!” +he said, “and you! you are the loveliest +woman! My sweet Aspatria!”</p> +<p>She smiled divinely. “And yet,” she +answered, “I remember, Ulfar, a song of +yours that said something very different. +Listen:—</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>‘There is a rose of a hundred leaves,</p> +<p><i>But the wild rose is the sweetest</i>!’”</p> +</div></div> +<p>And as she sang the words, Ulfar had a +vision of a young girl, fresh and pure as a +mountain bluebell, in her scrimp black +frock. He saw the wind blowing it tight +over her virgin form; he saw her fair, +childish, troubled face as she kissed him +farewell in the vicar’s meadows; and then +he saw the glorious woman, nobly planned, +perfect on every side, that the child wife +had grown to.</p> +<p>So, when she ceased, he pulled the fairest +rose on the tree; he took from it every +thorn, he put it in her breast, he kissed +the rose, and he kissed her rose-like face. +Then he took up the song where she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +dropped it; and hand in hand, keeping +time to its melody, they crossed the threshold +of their blessed home.</p> +<div class='poem'><div class='stanza'> +<p>“The robin sang beneath the eaves:</p> +<p class='indent2'>‘There is a rose of a hundred leaves,</p> +<p class='indent2'><i>But the wild rose is the sweetest</i>!’</p> +</div><div class='stanza'> +<p>“The nightingale made answer clear:</p> +<p class='indent2'>‘<i>O darling rose! more fair, more dear!</i></p> +<p class='indent2'><i>O rose of a hundred leaves</i>!’”</p> +</div></div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_44' id='linki_44'></a> +</div> +<img src='images/img_0242.jpg' alt='THE END.' title='' width='369' height='375' /> +<br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class="trnote"> +<p><b>Transcriber Notes</b></p> +<p>Archaic spelling preserved, including pottle and alterative.</p> +</div> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: 3.21k3 --> +<!-- timestamp: 2010-08-30 17:25:46 -0500 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Rose of a Hundred Leaves, by +Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ROSE OF A HUNDRED LEAVES *** + +***** This file should be named 33599-h.htm or 33599-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/5/9/33599/ + +Produced by Katherine Ward and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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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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: A Rose of a Hundred Leaves + A Love Story + +Author: Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +Release Date: September 1, 2010 [EBook #33599] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ROSE OF A HUNDRED LEAVES *** + + + + +Produced by Katherine Ward and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + +A ROSE OF A HUNDRED LEAVES + +A Love Story + + +BY AMELIA E. BARR + +AUTHOR OF "FRIEND OLIVIA," "THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON," +"JAN VEDDER'S WIFE," ETC. + + + NEW YORK + DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY + 1891 + +Copyright, 1891, By J. B. Lippincott Company. + +Copyright, 1891, By Dodd, Mead and Company. + +All rights reserved. + +University Press: John Wilson and Son, Cambridge. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + CHAPTER PAGE + I. The Wild Rose is the Sweetest 9 + II. Forgive me, Christ! 35 + III. Only Brother Will 77 + IV. For Mother's Sake 113 + V. But they were Young 151 + VI. "Love shall be Lord of Sandy-Side" 180 + VII. "A Rose of a Hundred Leaves" 208 + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE WILD ROSE IS THE SWEETEST. + + +I tell again the oldest and the newest story of all the world,--the +story of Invincible Love! + +This tale divine--ancient as the beginning of things, fresh and young +as the passing hour--has forms and names various as humanity. The +story of Aspatria Anneys is but one of these,--one leaf from all the +roses in the world, one note of all its myriad of songs. + +Aspatria was born at Seat-Ambar, an old house in Allerdale. It had +Skiddaw to shelter it on the northwest; and it looked boldly out +across the Solway, and into that sequestered valley in Furness known +as "the Vale of the Deadly Nightshade." The plant still grew there +abundantly, and the villagers still kept the knowledge of its medical +value taught them by the old monks of Furness. For these curious, +patient herbalists had discovered the blessing hidden in the fair, +poisonous amaryllis, long before modern physicians called it +"belladonna." + +The plant, with all its lovely relations, had settled in the garden at +Seat-Ambar. Aspatria's mother had loved them all: the girl could still +remember her thin white hands clasping the golden jonquils in her +coffin. This memory was in her heart, as she hastened through the +lonely place one evening in spring. It ought to have been a pleasant +spot, for it was full of snowdrops and daffodils, and many sweet +old-fashioned shrubs and flowers; but it was a stormy night, and the +blossoms were plashed and downcast, and all the birds in hiding from +the fierce wind and driving rain. + +She was glad to get out of the gray, wet, shivery atmosphere, and +to come into the large hall, ruddy and glowing with fire and +candle-light. Her brothers William and Brune sat at the table. Will +was counting money; it stood in small gold and silver pillars +before him. Brune was making fishing-flies. Both looked up at her +entrance; they did not think words necessary for such a little +maid. Yet both loved her; she was their only sister, and both gave +her the respect to which she was entitled as co-heir with them of +the Ambar estate. + +She was just sixteen, and not yet beautiful. She was too young for +beauty. Her form was not developed; she would probably gain two or +three inches in height; and her face, though exquisitely modelled, +wanted the refining which comes either from a multitude of complex +emotions or is given at once by some great heart-sorrow. Yet she had +fascination for those capable of feeling her charm. Her large brown +eyes had their childlike clearness; they looked every one in the face +with its security of good-will. Her mouth was a tempting mouth; the +lips had not lost their bow-shape; they were red and pouting, but +withal ever ready to part. She might have been born with a smile. Her +hair, soft and dark, had that rarest quality of soft hair,--a tendency +to make itself into little curls and tendrils and stray down the white +throat and over the white brow; yet it was carefully parted and +confined in two long braids, tied at the ends with a black ribbon. + +She wore a black dress. It was plainly made, and its broad ruffle +around the open throat gave it an air of simplicity almost childlike +in effect. Her arms below the elbows were uncovered, and her hands +were small and finely formed, as patrician hands should be. There was +no ring upon them, and no bracelet above them. She wore neither brooch +nor locket, nor ornament of any kind about her person; only a daffodil +laid against the snowy skin of her bosom. Even this effect was not the +result of coquetry; it was a holy and loving sentiment materialized. + +Altogether, she was a girl quite in keeping with the antique, homelike +air of the handsome room she entered; her look, her manner, and even +her speech had the local stamp; she was evidently a daughter of the +land. Her brothers resembled her after their masculine fashion. They +were big men, whom nature had built for the spaces of the moors and +mountains and the wide entrances of these old Cumberland homes. They +would have been pushed to pass through narrow city doorways. A fine +open-air colour was in their faces; they had that confident manner +which great physical strength imparts, and that air of conscious pride +which is born in lords of the soil. + +Indeed, William and Brune Anneys made one understand how truthfully +popular nomenclature has called an Englishman "John Bull." For whoever +has seen a bull in its native pastures--proud, obstinate, conscious of +his strength, and withal a little surly--must understand that there is +a taurine basis to the English character, finely expressed by the +national appellation. + +A great thing was to happen that hour, and all three were as +unconscious of the approaching fate as if it was to be a part of +another existence. Squire William finished his accounts, and played a +game of chess with his brother. Aspatria walked up and down the hall, +with her hands clasped behind her, or sat still in the Squire's +hearth-chair, with her dress lifted a little in front, to let the +pleasant heat fall upon her ankles. She did not think of reading or of +sewing, or of improving the time in any way. Perhaps she was not as +dependent on books as the women of this generation. Aspatria's mind +was sensitive and observing; it lived very well on its own ideas. + +The storm increased in violence; the rain beat against the windows, +and the wind howled at the nail-studded oak door, as if it intended to +blow it down. A big ploughman entered the room, shyly pulled his +front hair, and looked with stolid inquiry into his master's face. +The Squire pushed aside the chess-board, rose, and went to the +hearth-stone; for he was young in his authority, and he felt himself +on the hearth-stone to hold an impregnable position. + +"Well, Steve Bell, what is it?" + +"Be I to sow the high land next, sir?" + +"If you can have a face or back wind, it will be best; if you have an +elbow-wind, you must give the land an extra half-bushel." + +"Be I to sow mother-of-corn[1] on the east holme?" + + [1] Clover. + +"It is matterless. Is it going to be a flashy spring?" + +"A right season, sir,--plenty of manger-meat." + +"How is the weather?" + +"The rain is near past; it will take up at midnight." + +As he spoke, Aspatria, who had been sitting with folded hands and +half-shut eyes, straightened herself suddenly, and threw up her head +to listen. There was certainly the tramp of a horse's feet, and in a +moment the door was loudly and impatiently struck with the metal +handle of a riding-whip. + +Steve Bell went to answer the summons; Brune trailed slowly after +him. Aspatria and the Squire heard nothing on the hearth but a human +voice blown about and away by the wind. But Steve's reply was distinct +enough,-- + +"You be wanting Redware Hall, sir? Cush! it's unsensible to try for +it. The hills are slape as ice; the becks are full; the moss will make +a mouthful of you--horse and man--to-night." + +The Squire went forward, and Aspatria also. Aspatria lifted a candle, +and carried it high in her hand. That was the first glimpse of her +that Sir Ulfar Fenwick had. + +"You must stay at Seat-Ambar to-night," said William Anneys. "You +cannot go farther and be sure of your life. You are welcome here +heartily, sir." + +The traveller dismounted, gave his horse to Steve, and with words of +gratitude came out of the rain and darkness into the light and comfort +of the home opened to him. "I am Ulfar Fenwick," he said,--"Fenwick of +Fenwick and Outerby; and I think you must be William Anneys of +Ambar-Side." + +"The same, sir. This is my brother Brune, and my sister Aspatria. You +are dreeping wet, sir. Come to my room and change your clothing." + +Sir Ulfar bowed and smiled assent; and the bow and the smile were +Aspatria's. Her cheeks burned; a strange new life was in all her +veins. She hurried the housekeeper and the servants, and she brought +out the silver and the damask, and the famous crystal cup in its stand +of gold, which was the lucky bowl of Ambar-Side. When Fenwick came +back to the hall, there was a feast spread for him; and he ate and +drank, and charmed every one with his fine manner and his witty +conversation. + +They sat until midnight,--an hour strange to Seat-Ambar. No one +native in that house had ever seen it before, no one ever felt its +mysterious influence. Sir Ulfar had been charming them with tales of +the strange lands he had visited, and the strange peoples who dwelt +in them. He had not spoken much to Aspatria, but it was in her face +he had found inspiration and sympathy. For her young eyes looked +out with such eager interest, with glances so seeking, so without +guile and misgiving, that their bright rays found a corner in his +heart into which no woman had ever before penetrated. And she was +equally subjugated by his more modern orbs,--orbs with that steely +point of brilliant light, generated by large experience and varied +emotion,--electric orbs, such as never shone in the elder world. + +When the clock struck twelve, Squire Anneys rose with amazement. "Why, +it is strike of midnight!" he said. "It is past all, how the hours +have flown! But we mustn't put off sleeping-time any longer. +Good-night heartily to you, sir. It will be many a long day till I +forget this night. What doings you have seen, sir!" + +He was talking thus to his guest, as he led him to the guest-room. +Aspatria still stood by the dying fire. Brune rose silently, +stretched his big arms, and said: "I'll be going likewise. You had +best remember the time of night, Aspatria." + +"What do you think of him, Brune?" + +"Fenwick! I wouldn't think too high of him. One might have to come +down a peg or two. He sets a good deal of store by himself, I should +say." + +"You and I are of two ways of judging, Brune." + +"Never mind; time will let light into all our ways of judging." + +He went yawning upstairs and Aspatria slowly followed. She was not a +bit sleepy. She was wider awake than she had ever been before. Her +hands quivered like a swallow's wings; her face was rosy and luminous. +She removed her clothing, and unbraided her hair and shook it loose +over her slim shoulders. There was a smile on her lips through all +these preparations for sleep,--a smile innocent and glad. Suddenly she +lifted the candle and carried it to the mirror. She desired to look at +herself, and she blushed deeply as she gratified the wish. Was she +fair enough to please this wonderful stranger? + +It was the first time such a query had ever come to her heart. She was +inclined to answer it honestly. Holding the light slightly above her +head, she examined her claims to his regard. Her expressive face, her +starry eyes, her crimson, pouting lips, her long dark hair, her +slight, virginal figure in its gown of white muslin scantily trimmed +with English thread-lace, her small, bare feet, her air of childlike, +curious happiness,--all these things, taken together, pleased and +satisfied her desires, though she knew not how or why. + +Then she composed herself with intentional earnestness. She must "say +her prayers." As yet it was only saying prayers with Aspatria,--only a +holy habit. A large Book of Common Prayer stood open against an oaken +rest on a table; a cushion of black velvet was beneath it. Ere she +knelt, she reflected that it was very late, and that her Collect and +Lord's Prayer would be sufficient. Youth has such confidence in the +sympathy of God. She dropped softly on her knees and said her portion. +God would understand the rest. The little ceremony soothed her, as a +mother's kiss might have done; and with a happy sigh she put out the +light. The old house was dark and still, but her guardian angel saw +her small hands loose lying on the snowy linen, and heard her whisper, +"Dear God! how happy I am!" And this joyous orison was the acceptable +prayer that left the smile of peace upon her sleeping face. + +In the guest-chamber Ulfar Fenwick was also holding a session with +himself. He had come to his room very wide awake; midnight was an +early hour to him. And the incidents he had been telling filled his +mind with images of the past. He could not at once put them aside. +Women he had loved and left visited his memory,--light loves of a +season, in which both had declared themselves broken-hearted at +parting, and both had known that they would very soon forget. Neither +was much to blame: the maid had long ceased to remember his vows and +kisses; he, in some cases, had forgotten her name. Yet, sitting there +by the glowing oak logs, he had visions of fair faces in all kinds of +surroundings,--in lighted halls, in moon-lit groves under the great +stars of the tropics, on the Shetland seas when the aurora made for +lovers an enchanted atmosphere and a light in which beauty was +glorified. Well, they had passed as April passes, and now,-- + + As a glimpse of a burnt-out ember + Recalls a regret of the sun, + He remembered, forgot, and remembered + What love saw done and undone. + +Aspatria was different from all. He whispered her strange name on his +lips, and he thought it must have wandered from some sunny southern +clime into these northern solitudes. His eyes shone; his heart beat. +He said to it: "Make room for this innocent little one! What a darling +she is! How clear, how candid, how beautiful! Oh, to be loved by such +a woman! Oh, to kiss her!--to feel her kiss me!" He set his mouth +tightly; the soft dreamy look in his face changed to one of purpose +and pleasure. + +"I shall win her, or die for it," he said. "By Saint George! I would +rather die than know that any other man had married her." + +Yet the thought of marriage somewhat sobered him. "I should have to +give up my voyage to the Spanish Colonies,--and I am very much +interested in their struggle. I could not take her to Mexico, I +suppose,--there is nothing but fighting there; and I could not--no, I +could not leave her. If she were mine, I should hate to have any one +else breathe the same air with her. I could not endure that others +should speak to her. I should want to strike any man who touched her +hand. Perhaps I had better go away in the morning, and ride this road +no more. I have made my plans." + +And fate had made other plans. Who can fight against his destiny? When +he saw Aspatria in the morning, every plan that did not include her +seemed unworthy of his consideration. She was ten times lovelier in +the daylight. She had that fresh invincible charm which women of +culture and intellect seldom have: she was inspired by her heart. It +taught her a thousand delightful subjugating ways. She served his +breakfast with her own fair hands; she offered him the first sweet +flowers in the garden; she fluttered around his necessities, his +desires, his intentions, with a grace and a kindness nothing but love +could have taught her. + +He thanked her with marvellous glances, with smiles, with single words +dropped only for her ears, with all the potent eloquence which passion +and experience teach. And he had to pay the price, as all men must do. +The lesson he taught he also learned. "Aspatria!" he said, in soft, +penetrating accents; and when she answered his call and came to his +side, her dress trailing across his feet bewitched him. They were in +the garden, and he clasped her hand, and went down the budding alleys +with her, speechless, but gazing into her face until she dropped her +tremulous, transparent lids before her eyes; they were too full of +light and love to show to any mortal. + +The sky was white and blue, the air fresh and sweet; the swallows had +just come, and were chattering with the starlings; hundreds of +daffodils "danced in the wind" and lighted the ground at their +feet; troops of celandines starred the brook that babbled by the +bee-skips; the southernwood, the wall-flower, the budding thyme and +sweet-brier,--a thousand exhalations filled the air and intensified +that intoxication of heart and senses which makes the first stage of +love's fever delirious. + +Fenwick went away in the afternoon, and his adieus were mostly made to +the Squire. He had done his best to win his favour, and he had been +successful. He left Seat-Ambar under an engagement to return soon and +try his skill in wrestling and pole-leaping with Brune. Aspatria knew +he would return: a voice which Fenwick's voice only echoed told her +so. She watched him from her own window across the meadows, and up the +mountain, until he was lost to her vision. + +She was doubtless very much in love, though as yet she had not +admitted the fact to herself. The experience had come with a really +shocking swiftness. Her heart was half angry and half abashed by its +instantaneous surrender. Two circumstances had promoted this +condition. First, the singular charm of the man. Ulfar Fenwick was +unlike any one she had ever seen. The squires and gentlemen who came +to Seat-Ambar were physically the finest fellows in England, but noble +women look for something more than mere bulk in a man. Sir Ulfar +Fenwick had this something more. Culture, travel, great experience +with women, had added to his heroic form a charm flesh and sinew alone +could never compass. And if he had lacked all other physical +advantages, he possessed eyes which had been filled to the brim with +experiences of every kind,--gray eyes with pure, full lids thickly +fringed,--eyes always lustrous, sometimes piercingly bright. Secondly, +Aspatria had no knowledge which helped her to ward off attack or +protract surrender. In a multitude of lovers there is safety; but +Fenwick was Aspatria's first lover. + +He rode hard, as if he would ride from fate. Perhaps he hoped at this +early stage of feeling to do as he had often done before,-- + + To love--and then ride away. + +He had also a fresh, pressing anxiety to see his sister, who was Lady +of Redware Manor. Seven years--and much besides years--had passed +since they met. She was his only sister, and ten years his senior. She +loved him as mothers love, unquestioningly, with miraculous excuses +for all his shortcomings. She had been watching for his arrival many +hours before he appeared. + +"Ulfar! how welcome you are!" she cried, with tears in her eyes and +her voice. "Oh, my dear! how happy I am to see you once more!" + +She might have been his only love, he kissed and embraced and kissed +her again so fondly. Oh, wondrous tie of blood and kinship! At that +moment there really seemed to Ulfar Fenwick no one in the whole world +half so dear as his sister Elizabeth. + +He told her he had lost his way in the storm and been detained by +Squire Anneys; and she praised the Squire, and said that she would +evermore love him for his kindness. "I met him once, at the Election +Ball in Kendal. He danced with me; 'we neighbour each other,' you +see; and they are a grand old family, I can tell you." + +"There is a younger brother, called Brune." + +"I never saw him." + +"A sister also,--a child yet, but very handsome. You ought to see +her." + +"Why?" + +"You would like her. I do." + +"Ulfar, there is a 'thus far' in everything. In your wooing and +pursuing, the line lies south of Seat-Ambar. To wrong a woman of that +house would be wicked and dangerous." + +"Why should I wrong her? I have no intention to do so. I say she is a +lovely lady, a great beauty, worthy of honest love and supreme +devotion." + +"Such a rant about love and beauty! Nine tenths of the men who talk in +this way do but blaspheme Love by taking his name in vain." + +"However, Elizabeth, it is marriage or the Spanish colonies for me. It +is Miss Anneys, or Cuba, New Orleans, and Mexico. Santa Anna is a +supreme villain; I have a fancy to see such a specimen." + +"You are then between the devil and the deep sea; and I should say +that the one-legged Spaniard was preferable to the deep sea of +matrimony." + +"She is so fair! She has a virgin timidity that enchants me." + +"It will become matronly indecision, or mental weakness of will. In +the future it will drive you frantic." + +"Her sweet sensibility--" + +"Will crystallize into passionate irritation or callous opposition. +These childlike, tender, clinging maidens are often capable of sudden +and dangerous action. Better go to Cuba, or even to Mexico, Ulfar." + +"I suppose she has wealth. You will admit that excellence?" + +"She is co-heir with her brothers. She may have two thousand pounds a +year. You cannot afford to marry a girl so poor." + +"I have not yet come to regard a large sum of money as a kind of +virtue, or the want of it as a crime." + +"Your wife ought to represent you. How can this country-girl help you +in the society to which you belong?" + +"Society! What is society? In its elemental verity it means +toil, weariness, loss of rest and health, useless expense, envy, +disappointment, heart-burnings,--all for the sake of exchanging +entertainments with A and B, C and D. It means chaff instead of +wheat." + +"If you want to be happy, Ulfar, put this girl out of your mind. I am +sure her brothers will oppose your suit. They will not let their +sister leave Allerdale. No Anneys has ever done so." + +"You have strengthened my fancy, Elizabeth. There is a deal of +happiness in the idea of prevailing, of getting the mastery, of +putting hindrances out of the way." + +"Well, I have given you good advice." + +"There are many 'counsels of perfection' nobody dreams of following. +To advise a man in love not to love, is one of them." + +"Love!" she cried scornfully. "Before you make such a fuss about the +Spanish Colonies and their new-found freedom, free yourself, Ulfar! +You have been a slave to some woman all your life. You are one of +those men who are naturally not their own property. A child can turn +you hither and thither; a simple country girl can lead you." + +He laughed softly, and murmured,-- + + "There is a rose of a hundred leaves, + But the wild rose is the sweetest." + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +FORGIVE ME, CHRIST! + + +The ultimatum reached by Fenwick in the consideration of any subject +was, to please himself. In the case of Aspatria Anneys he was +particularly determined to do so. It was in vain Lady Redware +entreated him to be rational. How could he be rational? It was the +preponderance of the emotional over the rational in his nature which +imparted so strong a personality to him. He grasped all circumstances +by feeling rather than by reason. + +In a few days he was again at Seat-Ambar. Aspatria drew him, as the +candle draws the moth which has once burned its wings at it. And among +the simple Anneys folk he found a hearty welcome. With Squire William +he travelled the hills, and counted the flocks, and speculated on the +value of the iron-ore cropping out of the ground. With Brune he went +line-fishing, and in the wide barns tried his skill in wrestling or +pole-leaping or single-stick. He tolerated the rusticity of the life, +for the charming moments he found with Aspatria. + +No one like Ulfar Fenwick had ever visited Ambar-Side. To the young +men, who read nothing but the Gentleman's Magazine and the Whitehaven +Herald, and to Aspatria, who had but a volume of the Ladies' Garden +Manual, Notable Things, her Bible and Common Prayer, Fenwick was a +book of travel, song, and story, of strange adventures, of odd bits of +knowledge, and funny experiences. Things old and new fell from his +handsome lips. Squire William and Brune heard them with grave +attention, with delight and laughter; Aspatria with eyes full of +wonder and admiration. + +As the season advanced and they grew more familiar, Aspatria was +thrown naturally into his society. The Squire was in the hay-field; +Brune had his task there also. Or they were down at the Long Pool, +washing the sheep, or on the fells, shearing them. In the haymaking, +Aspatria and Fenwick made some pretence of assistance; but they both +very soon wearied of the real labour. Aspatria would toss a few +furrows of the warm, sweet grass; but it was much sweeter to sit down +under the oak-tree with Fenwick at her side, and watch the moving +picture, and listen to the women singing in their high shrill voices, +as they turned the swaths, the Song of the Mower, and the men +mournfully shouting out the chorus to it,-- + + "We be all like grass! We be all like grass!" + +As for the oak, it liked them to sit under it; all its leaves talked +to each other about them. The starlings, though they are always in a +hurry, stopped to look at the lovers, and went off with a Q-q-q of +satisfaction. The crows, who are a bad lot, croaked innuendoes, and +said it was to be hoped that evil would not come of such folly. But +Aspatria and Fenwick listened only to each other; they saw the whole +round world in each other's eyes. + +Fenwick spoke very low; Aspatria had to droop her ear to his mouth to +understand his words. And they were such delightful words, she could +not bear to lose one of them. Then, as the sun grew warm, and the +scent of the grass filled the soft air, and the haymakers were more +and more subdued and quiet, heavenly languors stole over them. They +sat hand in hand,--Aspatria sometimes with shut eyes humming to +herself, sometimes dreamily pulling the long grass at her side; +Fenwick mostly silent, yet often whispering those words which are +single because they are too sweet to be double,--"Darling! Dearest! +Angel!" and the words drew her eyes to his eyes, drew her lips to his +lips; ere she was aware, her heart had passed from her in long, +loving, stolen kisses. On the fells, in the garden, in the empty, +silent rooms of the old house, it was a repetition of the same divine +song, with wondrously celestial variations. Goethe puts in Faust an +Interlude in Heaven: Fenwick and Aspatria were in their Interlude. + +One evening they stood among the wheat-sheaves. The round, yellow +harvest-moon was just rising above the fells, and the stars trembling +into vision. The reapers had gone away; their voices made faint, +fitful echoes down the misty lane. The Squire was driving home one +load of ripe wheat, and Brune another. Aspatria said softly, "The day +is over. We must go home. Come!" + +She stood in the warm mystical light, with one hand upon the bound +sheaf, the other stretched out to him. Her slim form in its white +dress, her upturned face, her star-like eyes,--he saw all at a glance. +He was subjugated to the innermost room of his heart. He answered, +with inexpressible emotion,-- + +"Come! Come to me, my Dear One! My Love! My Joy! My Wife!" He held her +close to his heart; he claimed her by no formal special yes, but by +all the sweet reluctances and sweeter yieldings, the thousand nameless +consents won day by day. + +Oh, the glory of that homeward walk! The moon beamed upon them. The +trees bent down to touch them. The heath and the honeysuckle made a +posy for them. The nightingale sang them a canticle. They did not seem +to walk; they trod on ether; they moved as people move in happy dreams +of other stars, where thought and wish are motion. It would have been +heaven upon earth if those minutes could have lasted; but it was only +an interlude. + +That night Fenwick spoke to Squire William and asked him for his +sister. The Squire was honestly confounded by the question. Aspatria +was such a little lass! It was beyond everything to talk of marrying +her. Still, in his heart he was proud and pleased at such high fortune +for the little lass; and he said, as soon as Fenwick's father and +family came forward as they should do, he would never be the one to +say nay. + +Fenwick's father lived at Fenwick Castle, on the shore of bleak +Northumberland. He was an old man, but his natural feelings and wisdom +were not abated. He consulted the History of Cumberland, and found +that the family of Ambar-Anneys was as ancient and honourable as his +own. But the girl was country-bred, and her fortune was small, and in +a measure dependent upon her brother's management of the estate. A +careless master of Ambar-Side would make Aspatria poor. While he was +considering these things, Lady Redware arrived at the castle, and they +talked over the matter together. + +"I expected Ulfar to marry very differently, and I must say I am +disappointed. But I suppose it will be useless to make any opposition, +Elizabeth," the old man said to his daughter. + +"Quite useless, father. But absence works miracles. Try to secure +twelve months. You ought to go to a warm climate this winter; ask +Ulfar to take you to Italy. In a year time may re-shuffle the cards. +And you must write to the girl, and to her eldest brother, who is a +fine fellow and as proud as Lucifer. I called upon them before I left +Cumberland. She is very handsome." + +"Handsome! Old men know, Elizabeth, that six months after a man is +married, it makes little difference to him whether his wife is +handsome or not." + +"That may be, or it may not be, father. The thing to consider is, that +young men unfortunately persist in marrying for that first six +months." + +"Well, then, fortune pilots many a ship not steered. Suppose we leave +things to circumstances?" + +"No, no! Human affairs are for the most part arranged in such a way +that those turn out best to which most care is devoted." + +So the letters were thoughtfully written; the one to Aspatria being of +a paternal character, that to her brother polite and complimentary. To +his son Ulfar the old baronet made a very clever appeal. He reminded +him of his great age, and of the few opportunities left for showing +his affection and obedience. He regretted the necessity for a +residence in Italy during the winter, but trusted to his son's love to +see him through the experience. He congratulated Ulfar on winning the +love of a young girl so fresh and unspoiled by the world, but kindly +insisted upon the wisdom of a little delay, and the great benefit this +delay would be to himself. + +It was altogether a very temperate, wise letter, appealing to the best +side of Ulfar's nature. Squire William read it also, and gave it his +most emphatic approval. He was in no hurry to lose his little sister. +She was but a child yet, and knew nothing of the world she was going +into; and "surely to goodness," he said, looking at the child, "she +will have a lot of things to look after, before she can think of +wedding." + +This last conjecture touched Aspatria on a very womanly point. Of +course there were all her "things" to get ready. She had never +possessed more than a few frocks at a time, and those of the simplest +character; but she was quite alive to the necessity of an elaborate +wardrobe, and she had also an instinctive sense of what would be +proper for her position. + +So the suggestions of Ulfar's father were accepted in their entirety, +and the old gentleman was put into a very good temper by the fact. And +what was a year? "It will pass like a dream," said Ulfar. "And I shall +write constantly to you, and you will write to me; and when we meet +again it will be to part no more." Oh, the poverty of words in such +straits as these! Men say the same things in the same extremities now +that have been said millions of times before them. And Aspatria felt +as if there ought to have been entirely new words, to express the joy +of their betrothal and the sorrow of their parting. + +The short delay of a last week together was perhaps a mistake. A very +young girl, to whom great joy and great sorrow are alike fresh +experiences, may afford a prolonged luxury of the emotions of +parting. Love, more worldly-wise, deprecates its demonstrativeness, +and would avert it altogether. The farewell walks, the sentimental +souvenirs, the pretty and petty devices of love's first dream, are +tiresome to more practised lovers; and Ulfar had often proved what +very cobwebs they were to bind a straying fancy. + +"Absence makes the heart grow fonder." Perhaps so, if the last memory +be an altogether charming one. It was, unfortunately, not so in +Aspatria's case. It should have been a closely personal farewell with +Ulfar alone; but Squire Anneys, in his hospitable ignorance, gave it a +public character. Several neighbouring squires and dames came to +breakfast. There was cup-drinking, and toasting, and speech-making; +and Ulfar's last glimpse of his betrothed was of her standing in the +wide porch, surrounded by a waving, jubilant crowd of strangers, whose +intermeddling in his joy he deeply resented. Anneys had invited them +in accord with the traditions of his house and order. Fenwick thought +it was a device to make stronger his engagement to Aspatria. + +"As if it needed such contrivances!" he muttered angrily. "When it +does, it is a broken thread, and no Anneys can knot it again." + +The weeks that followed were full of new interests to Aspatria. +Mistress Frostham, the wife of a near shepherd-lord, had been the +friend of Aspatria's mother; she was fairly conversant with the world +outside the fells and dales, and she took the girl under her care, +accompanied her to Whitehaven, and directed her in the purchase of all +considered necessary for the wife of Ulfar Fenwick. + +Then the deep snows shut in Seat-Ambar, and the great white hills +stood round about it like fortifications. But as often as it was +possible the Dalton postman fought his way up there, with his packet +of accumulated mail; for he knew that a warm welcome and a large +reward awaited him. In the main, the long same days went happily by. +William and Brune had a score of resources for the season; the +farm-servants worked in the barn; they were making and mending sacks +for the wheat, and caps for the sheeps' heads in fly-time, sharpening +scythes and tools, doing the indoor work of a great farm, and mostly +singing as they did it. + +As Aspatria sat in her room, surrounded by fine cambric and linen and +that exquisite English thread-lace now gone out of fashion, she could +hear their laughter and their song, and she unconsciously set her +stitches to its march and melody. The days were not long to her. So +many dozens of garments to make with her own slight fingers! She had +not a moment to waste, but the necessity was one of the sweetest +delight. The solitude and secrecy of her labour added to its charm. +She never took her sewing into the parlour. And yet she might have +done so: William and Brune had a delicacy of affection for her which +would have made them blind to her occupation and densely stupid as to +its design. + +So, although the days were mostly alike, they were not unhappily so; +and at intervals destiny sent her the surprises she loved. One morning +in the beginning of February, Aspatria felt that the postman ought to +come; her heart presaged him. The day was clear and warm,--so much so, +that the men working in the barn had all the windows open. They were +singing in rousing tones the famous North Country song to the +barley-mow, and drinking it through all its verses, out of the jolly +brown bowl, the nipperkin, the quarter-pint, the quart and the +pottle,--the gallon and the anker,--the hogshead and the pipe,--the +well, and the river, and the ocean,--and then rolling back the chorus, +from ocean to the jolly brown bowl. Suddenly, while a dozen men were +shouting in unison,-- + + "Here's a health to the barley mow!" + +the verse was broken by the cry of "Here comes Ringham the postman!" +Then Aspatria ran to the window and saw him climbing the fell. She did +not like to go downstairs until Will called her; but she could not sew +another stitch. And when at last the aching silence in her ears was +filled by Will's joyful "Come here, Aspatria! Here is such a parcel as +never was,--from foreign parts too!" she hardly knew how her feet +twinkled down the long corridor and stairs. + +The parcel was from Rome. Ulfar had sent it to his London banker, and +the banker had sent a special messenger to Dalton with it. Over the +fells at that season no one but Ringham could have found a safe way; +and Ringham was made so welcome that he was quite imperious. He +ordered himself a rasher of bacon, and a bowl of the famous barley +broth, and spread himself comfortably before the great hearth-place. +At the table stood Aspatria, William, and Brune. Aspatria was +nervously trying to undo the seals and cords that bound love's message +to her. Will finally took his pocket-knife and cut them. There was a +long letter, and a box containing exquisite ornaments of Roman +cameos,--precious onyx, made more precious by work of rare artistic +beauty, a comb for her dark hair, a necklace for her white throat, +bracelets for her slender wrists, a girdle of stones linked with gold +for her waist. Oh, how full of simple delight she was! She was too +happy to speak. Then Will discovered a smaller package. It was for +himself and Brune. Will's present was a cameo ring, on which were +engraved the Anneys and Fenwick arms. Brune had a scarf-pin, +representing a lovely Hebe. It was a great day at Seat-Ambar. Aspatria +could work no more; Will and Brune felt it impossible to finish the +game they had begun. + +There is a tide in everything: this was the spring-tide of Aspatria's +love. In its overflowing she was happy for many a day after her +brothers had begun to speculate and wonder why Ringham did not come. +Suddenly it struck her that the snow was gone, and the road open, and +that there was no letter. She began to worry, and Will quietly rode +over to Dalton, to ask if any letter was lying there. He came back +empty-handed, silent, and a little surly. The anniversary of their +meeting was at hand: surely Ulfar would remember it, so Aspatria +thought, and she watched from dawn to dark, but no token of +remembrance came. The flowers began to bloom, the birds to sing, the +May sunshine flooded the earth with glory, but fear and doubt and +dismay and daily disappointment made deepest, darkest winter in the +low, long room where Aspatria watched and waited. Her sewing had been +thrown aside. The half-finished garments, neatly folded, lay under a +cover she had no strength to remove. + +In June she wrote a pitiful little note to her lover. She said that he +ought to tell her, if he was tired of their engagement. She told Will +what she had said, and asked him to post the letter. He answered +angrily, "Don't you write a word to him, good or bad!" And he tore the +letter into twenty pieces before her eyes. + +"Oh, Will, I cannot bear it!" + +"Thou art a woman: bear what other women have tholed before thee." +Then he went angrily from her presence. Brune was thrumming on the +window-pane. She thought he looked sorry for her; she touched his arm +and said, "Brune, will you take a letter to Dalton post for me?" + +"For sure I will. Go thy ways and write it, and I'll be gone before +Will is back." + +It was an unfortunate letter, as letters written in a hurry always +are. Absolute silence would have piqued and worried Ulfar. He would +have fancied her ill, dying perhaps; and the uncertainty, vague and +portentous, would have prompted him to action, if only to satisfy his +own mind. Sometimes he feared that a girl so sensitive would fade away +in neglect; and he expected a letter from William Anneys saying so. +But a hurried, halting, not very correct epistle, whose whole tenour +was, "What is the matter? What have I done? Do you remember last year +at this time?" irritated him beyond reply. + +He was still in Italy when it reached him. Sir Thomas Fenwick was not +likely ever to return to England. He was slowly dying, and he had been +removed to a villa in the Italian hills. And Elizabeth Redware had a +friend with her, a young widow just come from Athens, who affected at +times its splendid picturesque national costume. She was a very +bright, handsome woman, whose fine education had been supplemented by +travel, society, and a rather unhappy matrimonial experience. She knew +how to pique and provoke, how to flirt to the very edge of danger and +then sheer off, how to manipulate men before the fire of passion, as +witches used to manipulate their waxen images before the blazing +coals. + +She had easily won Ulfar's confidence; she had even assisted in the +selection of the cameos; and she declared to Elizabeth that she would +not for a whole world interfere between Ulfar and his pretty innocent! +A natural woman was such a phenomenon! She was glad Ulfar was going to +marry a phenomenon. + +Elizabeth knew her better. She gave the couple opportunity, and +they needed nothing more. There were already between them a good +understanding, transparent secrets, little jokes, a confessed +confidence. They quickly became affectionate. The lovely Sarah, +relict of Herbert Sandys, Esq., not only reminded Ulfar of his +vows to Aspatria, but in the very reminder she tempted him to break +them. When Aspatria's letter was put into his hand, she was with +him, marvellously arrayed in tissue of silver and brilliant colours. A +head-dress of gold coins glittered in her fair braided hair; her +long white arms were shining with bracelets; she was at once languid +and impulsive, provoking Elizabeth and Ulfar to conversation, and +then amazing them by the audacity and contradiction of her opinions. + +"It is so fortunate," she said, "that Ulfar has found a little +out-of-the-way girl to appreciate his great beauty. The world at +present does not think much of masculine beauty. A handsome fellow who +starts for any of its prizes is judged to be frivolous and poetical, +perhaps immoral: you see Byron's beauty made him unfit for a +legislator, he could do nothing but write poetry. I should say it was +Ulfar's best card to marry this innocent with the queer name: with his +face and figure, he will never get into Parliament. No one would trust +him with taxes. He is born to make love, and he and his country +Phyllis can go simpering and kissing through life together. If I were +interested in Ulfar----" + +"You are interested in Ulfar, Sarah," interrupted Elizabeth. "You said +so to me last night." + +"Did I? Nevertheless, life does not give us time really to question +ourselves, and it is the infirmity of my nature to mistake feeling for +evidence." + +"You must not change your opinions so quickly, Sarah." + +"It is often an element of success to change your opinions. It is +hesitating among a variety of views that is fatal. The man who does +not know what he wants is the man who is held cheap." + +"I am sure I know what I want, Sarah." And as he spoke, Ulfar looked +with intelligence at the fair widow, and in answer she shot from her +bright blue eyes a bolt of summer lightning that set aflame at once +the emotional side of Ulfar's nature. + +"You say strange things, Sarah. I wish it was possible to understand +you." + +"'Who shall read the interpretation thereof?' is written on everything +we see, especially on women." + +"I believe," said Elizabeth, "that Ulfar has quarrelled with his +country maid. Is there a quarrel, Ulfar, really?" + +"No," he answered, with some temper. + +Sarah nodded at Ulfar, and said softly: "The absent must be satisfied +with the second place. However, if you have quarrelled with her, +Ulfar, turn over a new leaf. I found that out when poor Sandys was +alive. People who have to live together must blot a leaf now and then +with their little tempers. The only thing is to turn over a new one." + +"If anything unpleasant happens to me," said Ulfar, "I try to bury +it." + +"You cannot do it. The past is a ghost not to be laid; and a past +which is buried alive, it is terrible." It was Sarah who spoke, and +with a sombre earnestness not in keeping with her usual character. +There was a minute's pregnant silence, and it was broken by the +entrance of a servant with a letter. He gave it to Ulfar. + +It was Aspatria's sorrowful, questioning note. Written while Brune +waited, it was badly written, incorrectly constructed and spelled, and +generally untidy. It had the same effect upon Ulfar that a badly +dressed, untidy woman would have had. He was ashamed of the +irregular, childish scrawl. He did not take the trouble to put himself +in the atmosphere in which the anxious, sorrowful words had been +written. He crushed the paper in his hand with much the same +contemptuous temper with which Elizabeth had seen him treat a dunning +letter. She knew, however, that this letter was from Aspatria, and, +saying something about her father, she went into an adjoining room, +and left Ulfar and Sarah together. She thought Sarah would be the +proper alterative. + +The first words Sir Thomas Fenwick uttered regarded Aspatria. Turning +his head feebly, he asked: "Has Ulfar quarrelled with Miss Anneys? I +hear nothing of her lately." + +"I think he is tired of his fancy for her. There is no quarrel." + +"She was a good girl,--eh? Kindhearted, beautiful,--eh, Elizabeth?" + +"She certainly was." + +He said no more then; but at midnight, when Ulfar was sitting beside +him, he called his son, and spoke to him on the subject. "I am +going--almost gone--the way of all flesh, Ulfar. Take heed of my last +words. You promised to make Miss Anneys your wife,--eh?" + +"I did, father." + +"Do not break your promise. If she gives it back to you, that might be +well; but you cannot escape from your own word and deed. Honour keeps +the door of the house of life. To break your word is to set the door +wide open,--open for sorrow and evil of all kinds. Take care, Ulfar." + +The next day he died, and one of Ulfar's first thoughts was that the +death set him free from his promise for one year at the least. A year +contained a multitude of chances. He could afford to write to +Aspatria under such circumstances. So he answered her letter at +once, and it seemed proper to be affectionate, preparatory to +reminding her that their marriage was impossible until the mourning +for Sir Thomas was over. Also death had softened his heart, and +his father's last words had made him indeterminate and a little +superstitious. A clever woman of the world would not have believed +in this letter; its _aura_--subtle but persistent, as the perfume of +the paper--would have made her doubt its fondest lines. But Aspatria +had no idea other than that certain words represented absolutely +certain feelings. + +The letter made her joyful. It brought back the roses to her cheeks, +the spring of motion to her steps. She began to work in her room once +more. Now and then her brothers heard her singing the old song she had +sung so constantly with Ulfar,-- + + "A shepherd in a shade his plaining made, + Of love, and lovers' wrong, + Unto the fairest lass that trod on grass, + And thus began his song: + 'Restore, restore my heart again, + Which thy sweet looks have slain, + Lest that, enforced by your disdain, I sing, + Fye! fye on love! It is a foolish thing! + + "'Since love and fortune will, I honour still + Your dark and shining eye; + What conquest will it be, sweet nymph, to thee, + If I for sorrow die? + Restore, restore my heart again, + Which thy sweet looks have slain, + Lest that, enforced by your disdain, I sing, + Fye! fye on love! It is a foolish thing!'" + +But the lifting of the sorrow was only that it might press more +heavily. No more letters came; no message of any kind; none of the +pretty love-gages he delighted in giving during the first months of +their acquaintance. A gloom more wretched than that of death or +sickness settled in the old rooms of Seat-Ambar. William and Brune +carried its shadow on their broad, rosy faces into the hay-fields and +the wheat-fields. It darkened all the summer days, and dulled all the +usual mirth-making of the ingathering feasts. William was cross and +taciturn. He loved his sister with all his heart, but he did not know +how to sympathize with her. Even mother-love, when in great anxiety, +sometimes wraps itself in this unreasonable irritability. Brune +understood better. He had suffered from a love-change himself; he +knew its ache and longing, its black despairs and still more cruel +hopes. He was always on the lookout for Aspatria; and one day he heard +news which he thought would interest her. Lady Redware was at the +Hall. William had heard it a week before, but he had not considered it +prudent to name the fact. Brune had a kinder intelligence. + +"Aspatria," he said, "Redware Hall is open again. I saw Lady Redware +in the village." + +"Brune! Oh, Brune, is he there too?" + +"No, he isn't. I made sure of that." + +"Brune, I want to go to Redware. Perhaps his sister may tell me the +truth. Go with me. Oh, Brune, go with me! I am dying of suspense and +uncertainty." + +"Ay, they're fit to kill anybody, let alone a little lass like you. It +will put William about, and it may make bad bread between us; but I'll +go with you, even if we do have a falling out. I'm not flayed for +William's rages." + +The next market-day Brune kept his word. As soon as Squire Anneys had +climbed the fell breast and passed over the brow of the hill, Brune +was at the door with horses for Aspatria and himself. She was a good +rider, and they made the distance, in spite of hills and hollows, in +two hours. Lady Redware was troubled at the visit, but she came to the +door to welcome Aspatria, and she asked Brune with particular warmth +to come into the house with his sister. Brune knew better; he was sure +in such a case that it would prove a mere formal call, and that +Aspatria would never have the courage to ask the questions she wished +to. + +But Aspatria had come to that point of mental suffering when she +wanted to know the truth, even though the truth was the worst. Lady +Redware saw the determination on her face, and resolved to gratify it. +She was shocked at the change in Aspatria's appearance. Her beauty +was, in a measure, gone. Her eyes were hollow, and the lids dark and +swollen with weeping. Her figure was more angular. The dew of youth, +the joy of youth, was over. She drooped like a fading flower. If Ulfar +saw her in such condition he might pity, but assuredly he would not +admire her. + +Lady Redware kissed the poor girl. "Come in, my dear," she said +kindly. "How ill you look! Here is wine: take a drink." + +"I am ill. I even hope I am dying. Life is so hard to bear. Ulfar has +forgotten me. I have vexed him, and cannot find out in what way. If +you would only tell me!" + +"You have not vexed him at all." + +"What then?" + +"He is tired, or he has seen a fresher face. That is Ulfar's great +fault. He loves too well, because he does not love very long. Can you +not forget him?" + +"No." + +"You must have other lovers?" + +"No. I never had a lover until Ulfar wooed me. I will have none after +him. I shall love him until I die." + +"What folly!" + +"Perhaps. I am only a foolish child. If I had been wise and clever, he +would not have left me. It is my fault. Do you believe he will ever +come to Seat-Ambar again?" + +"I do not think he will. It is best to tell you the truth. My dear, I +am truly sorry for you! Indeed I am, Aspatria!" + +The girl had covered her face with her thin white hands. Her attitude +was so hopeless that it brought the tears to Lady Redware's eyes. +Hoping to divert her attention, she said,-- + +"Who called you Aspatria?" + +"It was my mother's name. She was born in Aspatria, and she loved the +place very much." + +"Where is it, child? I never heard of it." + +"Not far away, on the sea-coast,--a little town that brother Will says +has been asleep for centuries. Such a pretty place, straggling up the +hillside, and looking over the sea. Mother was born there, and she is +buried there, in the churchyard. It is such an old church, one +thousand years old! Mother said it was built by Saint Kentigern. I +went there to pray last week, by mother's grave. I thought she might +hear me, and help me to bear the suffering." + +"You poor child! It is shameful of Ulfar!" + +"He is not to blame. Will told me that it was a poor woman who +couldn't keep what she had won." + +"It was very brutal in Will to say such a thing." + +"He did not mean it unkindly. We are plain-spoken people, Lady +Redware. Tell me, as plainly as Will would tell me, if there is any +hope for me. Does Ulfar love me at all now?" + +"I fear not." + +"Are you sure?" + +"I am sure." + +"Thank you. Now I will go." She put out her hands before her, as if +she was blind and had to feel her way; and in answer to all Lady +Redware's entreaties to remain, to rest, to eat something, she only +shook her head, and stumbled forward. Brune saw her coming. He was +standing by the horses, but he left them, and went to meet his sister. +Her misery was so visible that he put her in the saddle with fear. But +she gathered the reins silently, and motioned him to proceed; and +Aspatria's last sad smile haunted Lady Redware for many a day. Long +afterward she recalled it with a sharp gasp of pity and annoyance. It +was such a proud, sorrowful farewell. + +She reached home, but it took the last remnant of her strength. She +was carried to her bed, and she remained there many weeks. The hills +were white with snow, and the winter winds were sounding among them +like the chant of a high mass, when she came down once more to the +parlor. Even then Will carried her like a baby in his arms. He had +carried her mother in the same way, when she began to die; and his +heart trembled and smote him. He was very tender with his little +sister, but tempests of rage tossed him to and fro when he thought of +Ulfar Fenwick. + +And he was compelled lately to think of him very often. All over the +fell-side, all through Allerdale, it had begun to be whispered, +"Aspatria Anneys has been deserted by her lover." How the fact had +become known it was difficult to discover: it was as if it had flown +from roof to roof with the sparrows. Will could see it in the faces of +his neighbours, could hear it in the tones of their speech, could feel +it in the clasp of their hands. And he thought of these things, until +he could not eat a meal or sleep an hour in peace. His heart was on +fire with suppressed rage. He told Brune that all he wanted was to lay +Fenwick across his knees and break his neck. And then he spread out +his mighty hands, and clasped and unclasped them with a silent force +that had terrible anticipation in it. And he noticed that after her +illness his sister no longer wore the circlet of diamonds which had +been her betrothal-ring. She had evidently lost all hope. Then it was +time for him to interfere. + +Aspatria feared it when he came to her room one morning and kissed her +and bade her good-by. He said he was going a bit off, and might be a +week away,--happen more. But she did not dare to question him. Will at +times had masterful ways, which no one dared to question. + +Brune knew where his brother was going. The night before he had taken +Brune to the little room which was called the Squire's room. In it +there was a large oak chest, black with age and heavy with iron bars. +It contained the title-deeds, and many other valuable papers. Will +explained these and the other business of the farm to Brune; and Brune +did not need to ask him why. He was well aware what business William +Anneys was bent on, before Will said,--"I am going to Fenwick Castle, +Brune. I am going to make that measureless villain marry Aspatria." + +"Is it worth while, Will?" + +"It is worth while. He shall keep his promise. If he does not, I will +kill him, or he must kill me." + +"If he kills you, Will, he must then fight me." And Brune's face grew +red and hot, and his eyes flashed angry fire. + +"That is as it should be; only keep your anger at interest until you +have lads to take your place. We mustn't leave Ambar-Side without an +Anneys to heir it. I fancy your wrath won't get cold while it is +waiting." + +"It will get hotter and hotter." + +"And whatever happens, don't you be saving of kind words to Aspatria. +The little lass has suffered more than a bit; and she is that like +mother! I couldn't bide, even if I was in my grave, to think of her +wanting kindness." + +The next morning Will went away. Brune would not talk to Aspatria +about the journey. This course was a mistake; it would have done her +good to talk continually of it. As it was, she was left to chew over +and over the cud of her mournful anticipations. She had no womanly +friend near her. Mrs. Frostham had drawn back a little when people +began to talk of "poor Miss Anneys." She had daughters, and she did +not feel that her friendship for the dead included the living, when +the living were unfortunate and had questionable things said about +them. + +And the last bitter drop in Aspatria's cup full of sorrow was the +hardness of her heart toward Heaven. She could not care about God; she +thought God did not care for her. She had tried to make herself pray, +even by going to her mother's grave, but she felt no spark of that +hidden fire which is the only acceptable prayer. There was a Christ +cut out of ivory, nailed to a large ebony cross, in her room. It had +been taken from the grave of an old abbot in Aspatria Church, and had +been in her mother's family three hundred years. It was a Christ that +had been in the grave and had come back to earth. Her mother's eyes +had closed forever while fixed upon it, and to Aspatria it had always +been an object of supreme reverence and love. She was shocked to find +herself unmoved by its white pathos. Even at her best hours she could +only stand with clasped hands and streaming eyes before it, and with +sad imploration cry,-- + +"I cannot pray! I cannot pray! Forgive me, Christ!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +ONLY BROTHER WILL. + + +It was a dull raw day in late autumn, especially dull and raw near the +sea, where there was an evil-looking sky to the eastward. Ulfar +Fenwick stood at a window in Castle Fenwick which commanded the black, +white-frilled surges. He was watching anxiously the point at which the +pale gray wall of fog was thickest, a wall of inconceivable height, +resting on the sea, reaching to the clouds, when suddenly there +emerged from it a beautifully built schooner-yacht. She cut her way +through the mysterious barrier as if she had been a knife, and came +forward with short, stubborn plunges. + +All over the North Sea there are desolate places full of the cries of +parting souls, but nowhere more desolate spaces than around Fenwick +Castle; and as the winter was approaching, Ulfar was anxious to escape +its loneliness. His yacht had been taking in supplies; she was making +for the pier at the foot of Fenwick Cliff, and he was dressed for the +voyage and about to start upon it. He was going to the Mediterranean, +to Civita Vecchia, and his purpose was the filial one of bringing home +the remains of the late baronet. He had promised faithfully to see +them laid with those of his fore-elders on the windy Northumberland +coast; and he felt that this duty must be done, ere he could +comfortably travel the westward route he had so long desired. + +He was slowly buttoning his pilot-coat, when he heard a heavy step +upon the flagged passage. Many such steps had been up and down it +that hour, but none with the same fateful sound. He turned his face +anxiously to the door, and as he did so, it was flung open, as if by +an angry man, and William Anneys walked in, frowning and handling his +big walking-stick with a subdued passion that filled the room as if it +had been suddenly charged with electricity. The two men looked +steadily at each other, neither of them flinching, neither of them +betraying by the movement of an eyelash the emotion that sent the +blood to their faces and the wrath to their eyes. + +"William Anneys! What do you want?" + +"I want you to set your wedding-day. It must not be later than the +fifteenth of this month." + +"Suppose I refuse to do so? I am going to Italy for my father's +body." + +"You shall not leave England until you marry my sister." + +"Suppose I refuse to do so?" + +"Then you will have to take your chances of life or death. You will +give me satisfaction first; and if you escape the fate you well +deserve, Brune may have better fortune." + +"Duelling is now murder, sir, unless we pass over to France." + +"I will not go to France. Wrestling is not murder, and we both know +there is a 'throw' to kill; and I will 'throw' until I do kill,--or am +killed. There's Brune after me." + +"I have ceased to love your sister. I dare say she has forgotten me. +Why do you insist on our marriage? Is it that she may be Lady +Fenwick?" + +"Look you, sir! I care nothing for lordships or ladyships; such things +are matterless to me. But your desertion has set wicked suspicions +loose about Miss Anneys; and the woman they dare to think her, you +shall make your wife. By God in heaven, I swear it!" + +"They have said wrong of Miss Anneys! Impossible!" + +"No, sir! they have not said wrong. If any man in Allerdale had dared +to say wrong, I had torn his tongue from his mouth before I came here; +and as for the women, they know well I would hold their husbands or +brothers or sons responsible for every ill word they spoke. But they +think wrong, and they make me feel it everywhere. They look it, they +shy off from Aspatria,--oh, you know well enough the kind of thing +going on." + +"A wrong thought of Miss Anneys is atrocious. The angels are not more +pure." He said the words softly, as if to himself; and William Anneys +stood watching him with an impatience that in a moment or two found +vent in an emphatic stamp with his foot. + +"I have no time to waste, sir. Are you afraid to sup the ill broth you +have brewed?" + +"Afraid!" + +"I see you have no mind to marry. Well, then, we will fight! I like +that better." + +"I will fight both you and your brother, make any engagement you +wish; but if the fair name of Miss Anneys is in danger, I have a prior +engagement to marry her. I will keep it first. Afterward I am at your +service, Squire, yours and your brother's; for I tell you plainly that +I shall leave my wife at the church door and never see her again." + +"I care not how soon you leave her; the sooner the better. Will the +eleventh of this month suit you?" + +"Make it the fifteenth. To what church will you bring my fair bride?" + +"Keep your scoffing for a fitter time. If you look in that way again, +I will strike the smile off your lips with a hand that will leave you +little smiling in the future." And he passed his walking-stick to his +left, and doubled his large right hand with an ominous readiness. + +"We may even quarrel like gentlemen, Mr. Anneys." + +"Then don't you laugh like a blackguard, that's all." + +"Answer me civilly. At what church shall I meet Miss Anneys, and at +what hour on the fifteenth?" + +"At Aspatria Church, at eleven o'clock." + +"Aspatria?" + +"Ay, to be sure! There will be witnesses there, I can tell +you,--generations of them, centuries of generations. They will see +that you do the right thing, or they will dog your steps till you have +paid the uttermost farthing of the wrong. Mind what you do, then!" + +"The dead frighten me no more than the living do." + +"You will find out, maybe, what the vengeance of the dead is. I would +be willing to leave you to it, if you shab off, and I am not sure but +you will." + +"William Anneys, you are sure I will not. You are saying such things +to provoke me to a fight." + +"What reason have I to be sure? All the vows you made to Aspatria you +have counted as a fool's babble." + +"I give you my word of honour. Between gentlemen that is enough." + +"To be sure, to be sure! Gentlemen can make it enough. But a poor +little lass, what can she do but pine herself into a grave?" + +"I will listen to you no longer, Squire Anneys. If your sister's good +name is at stake, it is my first duty to shield it with my own name. +If that does not satisfy your sense of honour, I will give you and +your brother whatever satisfaction you desire. On the fifteenth of +this month, at eleven o'clock, I will meet you at Aspatria Church. +Where shall I find the place?" + +"It is not far from Gosforth and Dalton, on the coast. You cannot miss +it, unless you never look for it." + +"Sir!" + +"Unless you never look for it. I do not feel to trust you. But this is +a promise made to a man, made to William Anneys; and he will see that +you keep it, or else that you pay for the breaking of it." + +"Good-morning, Squire. There is no necessity to prolong such an +unpleasant visit." + +"Nay, I will not 'good-morning' with you. I have not a good wish of +any kind for you." + +With these defiant words he left the castle, and Fenwick threw off his +pilot-coat and sat down to consider. First thoughts generally come +from the selfish, and therefore the worst, side of any nature; and +Fenwick's first thoughts were that his yacht was ready to sail, and +that he could go away, and stay away until Aspatria married, or some +other favourable change took place. He cared little for England. With +good management he could bring home and bury his father's dust without +the knowledge of William Anneys. Then there was the west! America was +before him, north and south. He had always promised himself to see +the whole western continent ere he settled for life in England. + +Such thoughts were naturally foremost, but he did not encourage them. +He felt no lingering sentiment of pity or love for Aspatria, but he +realized very clearly what suspicion, what the slant eye, the +whispered word, the scornful glance, the doubtful shrug, meant in +those primitive valleys. And he had loved the girl dearly; he had +promised to marry her. If she wished him to keep his promise, if it +was a necessity to her honour, then he would redeem with his own +honour his foolish words. He told himself constantly that he had not a +particle of fear, that he despised Will and Brune Anneys and their +brutal vows of vengeance; but--but perhaps they did unconsciously +influence him. Life was sweet to Ulfar Fenwick, full of new dreams and +hopes set in all kinds of new surroundings. For Aspatria Anneys why +should he die? It was better to marry her. The girl had been sweet to +him, very sweet! After all, he was not sure but he preferred that she +should be so bound to him as to prevent her marrying any other man. He +still liked her well enough to feel pleasure in the thought that he +had put her out of the reach of any future lover she might have. + +Squire Anneys rode home in what Brune called "a pretty temper for any +man." His horse was at the last point of endurance when he reached +Seat-Ambar, he himself wet and muddy, "cross and unreasonable beyond +everything." Aspatria feared the very sound of his voice. She fled to +her room and bolted the door. At that hour she felt as if death would +be the best thing for her; she had brought only sorrow and trouble and +apprehended disgrace to all who loved her. + +"I think God has forgotten me too!" she cried, glancing with eyes full +of anguish to the pale Crucified One hanging alone and forsaken in the +darkest corner of the room. Only the white figure was visible; the +cross had become a part of the shadows. She remembered the joyous, +innocent prayers that had been wont to make peace in her heart and +music on her lips; and she looked with a sorrow that was almost +reproach at her Book of Common Prayer, lying dusty and neglected on +its velvet cushion. In her rebellious, hopeless grief, she had missed +all its wells of comfort. Oh, if an angel would only open her eyes! +One had come to Hagar in the desert: Aspatria was almost in equal +despair. + +Yet when she heard her brother Will's voice she knew not of any other +sanctuary than the little table which held her Bible and Prayer Book, +and upon which the wan, sad ivory Christ looked down. In speechless +misery, with clasped hands and low-bowed head, she knelt there. Will's +voice, strenuous and stern, reached her at intervals. She knew from +the silence in the kitchen and farm-offices, and the hasty movements +of the servants, that Will was cross; and she greatly feared her +eldest brother when he was in what Brune called one of his rages. + +A long lull was followed by a sharp call. It was Will calling her +name. She felt it impossible to answer, impossible to move; and as he +ascended the stairs and came grumbling along the corridor, she +crouched lower and lower. He was at her door, his hand on the latch; +then a few piteous words broke from her lips: "Help, Christ, Saviour +of the world!" + +Instantly, like a flash of lightning, came the answer, "It is I. Be +not afraid." She said the words herself, gave to her heart the promise +and the comfort of it, and, so saying them, she drew back the bolt and +stood facing her brother. He had a candle in his hand, and it showed +her his red, angry face, and showed him the pale, resolute countenance +of a woman who had prayed and been comforted. + +He walked into the room and put the candle down on a small table in +its centre. They both stood a moment by it; then Aspatria lifted her +face to her brother and kissed him. He was taken aback and softened, +and troubled at his heart. Her suffering was so evident; she was such +a gray shadow of her former self. + +"Aspatria! Aspatria! my little lass!" Then he stopped and looked at +her again. + +"What is it, Will? Dear Will, what is it?" + +"You must be married on the fifteenth. Get something ready. I will see +Mrs. Frostham and ask her to help you a bit." + +"Whom am I to marry, Will? On the fifteenth? It is impossible! See how +ill I am!" + +"You are to marry Ulfar Fenwick. Ill? Of course you are ill; but you +must go to Aspatria Church on the fifteenth. Ulfar Fenwick will meet +you there. He will make you his wife." + +"You have forced him to marry me. I will not go, I will not go. I will +not marry Ulfar Fenwick." + +"You shall go, if I carry you in my arms! You shall marry him, or +I--will--kill--you!" + +"Then kill me! Death does not terrify me. Nothing can be more cruel +hard than the life I have lived for a long time." + +He looked at her steadily, and she returned the gaze. His face was +like a flame; hers was white as snow. + +"There are things in life worse than death, Aspatria. There is +dishonour, disgrace, shame." + +"Is sorrow dishonour? Is it a disgrace to love? Is it a shame to weep +when love is dead?" + +"Ay, my little lass, it may be a great wrong to love and to weep. +There is a shadow around you, Aspatria; if people speak of you they +drop their voices and shake their heads; they wonder, and they think +evil. Your good name is being smiled and shaken away, and I cannot +find any one, man or woman, to thrash for it." + +She stood listening to him with wide-open eyes, and lips dropping a +little apart, every particle of colour fled from them. + +"It is for this reason Fenwick is to marry you." + +"You forced him; I know you forced him." She seemed to drag the words +from her mouth; they almost shivered; they broke in two as they fell +halting on the ear. + +"Well, I must say he did not need forcing, when he heard your good +name was in danger. He said, manly enough, that he would make it good +with his own name. I do not much think I could have either frightened +or flogged him into marrying you." + +"Oh, Will! I cannot marry him in this way! Let people say wicked +things of me, if they will." + +"Nay, I will not! I cannot help them thinking evil; but they shall not +look it, and they shall not say it." + +"Perhaps they do not even think it, Will. How can you tell?" + +"Well enough, Aspatria. How many women come to Ambar-Side now? If you +gave a dance next week, you could not get a girl in Allerdale to +accept your invitation." + +"Will!" + +"It is the truth. You must stop all this by marrying Ulfar Fenwick. He +saw it was only just and right: I will say that much for him." + +"Let me alone until morning. I will do what you say.--Oh, mother! +mother I want mother now!" + +"My poor little lass! I am only brother Will; but I am sorry for thee, +I am that!" + +She tottered to the bedside, and he lifted her gently, and laid her on +it; and then, as softly as if he was afraid of waking her, he went out +of the room. Outside the door he found Brune. He had taken off his +shoes, and was in his stocking-feet. Will grasped him by the shoulder +and led him to his own chamber. + +"What were you watching me for? What were you listening to me for? I +have a mind to hit you, Brune." + +"You had better not hit me, Will. I was not bothering myself about +you. I was watching Aspatria. I was listening, because I knew the +madman in you had got loose, and I was feared for my sister. I was not +going to let you say or do things you would be sorry to death for when +you came to yourself. And so you are going to let that villain marry +Aspatria? You are not of my mind, Will. I would not let him put a foot +into our decent family, or have a claim of any kind on our sister." + +"I have done what I thought best." + +"I don't say it is best." + +"And I don't ask for your opinion. Go to your own room, Brune, and +mind your own affairs." + +And Brune, brought up in the religious belief of the natural supremacy +of the elder brother, went off without another word, but with a heart +full to overflowing of turbulent, angry thoughts. + +In the morning Will went to see Mrs. Frostham. He told her of his +interview with Ulfar Fenwick, and begged her to help Aspatria with +such preparations as could be made. But neither to her nor yet to +Aspatria did he speak of Fenwick's avowed intention to leave his wife +after the ceremony. In the first place, he did not believe that +Fenwick would dare to give him such a cowardly insult; and then, also, +he thought that the sight of Aspatria's suffering would make him +tender toward her. William Anneys's simple, kindly soul did not +understand that of all things the painful results of our sins are the +most irritating. The hatred we ought to give to the sin or to the +sinner, we give to the results. + +Surely it was the saddest preparation for a wedding that could be. +Will and Brune were "out." They did not speak to each other, except +about the farm business. Aspatria spent most of her time in her +own room with a sempstress, who was making the long-delayed +wedding-dress. The silk for it had been bought more than a year, and +it had lost some of its lustrous colour. Mrs. Frostham paid a short +visit every day, and occasionally Alice Frostham came with her. She +was a very pretty girl, gentle and affectionate to Aspatria; and +just because of her kindness Will determined at some time to make +her Mistress of Seat-Ambar. + +But in the house there was a great depression, a depression that no +one could avoid feeling. Will gave no orders for wedding-festivities; +a great dinner and ball would have been a necessity under the usual +circumstances, but there were no arrangements even for a breakfast. +Aspatria wondered at the omission, but she did not dare to question +Will; indeed. Will appeared to avoid her as much as he could. + +Really, William Anneys was very anxious and miserable. He had no +dependence upon Fenwick's promise, and he felt that if Fenwick +deceived him there was nothing possible but the last vengeance. He +had this thought constantly in his mind; and he was quietly ordering +things on the farm for a long absence, and for Brune's management or +succession. He paid several visits to Whitehaven, where was his +banker, and to Gosport, where his lawyer lived. He felt, during that +terrible interval of suspense, very much as a man under sentence of +death might feel. + +The morning of the fifteenth broke chill and dark, with a promise of +rain. Great Gable was carrying on a conflict with an army of gray +clouds assailing his summit and boding no good for the weather. The +fog rolled and eddied from side to side of the mountains, which +projected their black forms against a ghastly, neutral tint behind +them; and the air was full of that melancholy stillness which so often +pervades the last days of autumn. + +Squire Anneys had slept little for two weeks, and he had been awake +all the night before. While yet very early, he had every one in the +house called. Still there were no preparations for company or +feasting. Brune came down grumbling at a breakfast by candle-light, +and he and William drank their coffee and made a show of eating almost +in silence. But there was an unspeakable tenderness in William's +heart, if he had known how to express it. He looked at Brune with a +new speculation in his eyes. Brune might soon be master of Ambar-Side: +what kind of a master would he make? Would he be loving to Aspatria? +When Brune had sons to inherit the land, would he remember his +promise, and avenge the insult to the Anneys, if he, William, should +give his life in vain? Out of these questions many others arose; but +he was naturally a man of few words, and not able to talk himself into +a conviction that he was doing right; nor yet was he able to give +utterance to the vague objections which, if defined by words, might +perhaps have changed his feelings and his plans. + +He had sent Aspatria word that she must be ready by ten o'clock. At +eight she began to dress. Her sleep had been broken and miserable. She +looked anxiously in the glass at her face. It was as white as the silk +robe she was to wear. A feeling of dislike of the unhappy garment rose +in her heart. She had bought the silk in the very noon of her love and +hopes, a shining piece of that pearl-like tint which only the most +brilliant freshness and youth can becomingly wear. Many little +accessories were wanting. She tried the Roman cameos with it, and they +looked heavy; she knew in her womanly heart that it needed the lustre +of gems, the sparkle of diamonds or rubies. + +Mrs. Frostham came a little later, and assisted her in her toilet; but +a passing thought of the four bridemaids she had once chosen for this +office made her eyes dim, while the stillness of the house, the utter +neglect of all symbols of rejoicing, gave an ominous and sorrowful +atmosphere to the bride-robing. Still, Aspatria looked very handsome; +for as the melancholy toilet offices proceeded with so little interest +and so little sympathy, a sense of resentment had gradually gathered +in the poor girl's heart. It made her carry herself proudly, it +brought a flush to her cheeks, and a flashing, trembling light to her +eyes which Mrs. Frostham could not comfortably meet. + +A few minutes before ten, she threw over all her fateful finery a +large white cloak, which added a decided grace and dignity to her +appearance. It was a garment Ulfar had sent her from London,--a long, +mantle-like wrap, made of white cashmere, and lined with quilted +white satin. Long cords and tassels of chenille fastened it at the +throat, and the hood was trimmed with soft white fur. She drew the +hood over her head, she felt glad to hide the wreath of orange-buds +and roses which Mrs. Frostham had insisted upon her wearing,--the sign +and symbol of her maidenhood. + +Will looked at her with stern lips, but as he wrapped up her +satin-sandalled feet in the carriage, he said softly to her, "God +bless you, Aspatria!" His voice trembled, but not more than Aspatria's +as she answered,-- + +"Thank you, Will. You and Brune are father and mother to me to-day. +There is no one else." + +"Never mind, my little lass. We are enough." + +She was alone in the carriage. Will and Brune rode on either side of +her. The Frosthams, the Dawsons, the Bellendens, the Atkinsons, and +the Lutons followed. Will had invited every one to the church, and +curiosity brought those who were not moved by sympathy or regard. +Fortunately the rain held off, though the air was damp and exceedingly +depressing. + +When they arrived at Aspatria Church, they found the yard full; every +gravestone was occupied by a little party of gossips. At the gate +there was a handsome travelling-chariot with four horses. It lifted a +great weight of apprehension from William Anneys, for it told him that +Fenwick had kept his word. He helped Aspatria to alight, and his heart +ached for her. How would she be able to walk between that crowd of +gazing, curious men and women? He held her arm tight against his big +heart, and Brune, carefully watching her, followed close behind. + +But Aspatria's inner self had taken possession of the outer woman. She +walked firmly and proudly, with an erect grace, without hesitation and +without hurry, toward her fate. Something within her kept saying words +of love and encouragement; she knew not what they were, only they +strengthened her like wine. She passed the church door whispering the +promise given her,--"It is I. Be not afraid." And then her eyes fell +upon the ancient stone font, at which her father and mother had named +her. She put out her hand and just touched its holy chalice. + +The church was crowded with a curious and not unsympathetic +congregation. Aspatria Anneys was their own, a dales-woman by a +thousand years of birthright. Fenwick was a stranger. If he were going +to do her any wrong, and Will Anneys was ready to punish him for it, +every man and woman present would have stood shoulder to shoulder with +Will. There was an undefined expectation of something unusual, of +something more than a wedding. This feeling, though unexpressed, made +itself felt in a very pronounced way. Will and Brune looked +confidingly around; Aspatria gathered courage with every step. She +felt that she was among her own people, living and dead. + +As soon as they really entered the church, they saw Fenwick. He was +with an officer wearing the uniform of the Household Troops; and +he was evidently pointing out to him the ancient tombs of the +Ambar-Anneys family, the Crusaders in stone, with sheathed swords +and hands folded in prayer, and those of the family abbots, adorned +with richly floriated crosses. + +When he saw Aspatria he bowed, and advanced rapidly to the altar. She +had loosened her cloak and flung back her hood, and she watched his +approach with eyes that seemed two separate souls of love and sorrow. +One glance from them troubled him to the seat of life. He motioned to +the waiting clergyman, and took his place beside his bride. There was +a dead stillness in the church, and a dead stillness outside; the +neighing of a horse sounded sharp, imperative, fateful. A ripple of a +smile followed; it was a lucky omen to hear a horse neigh. Brune +glanced at his sister, but she had not heeded it. Her whole being was +swallowed up in the fact that she was standing at Ulfar's side, that +she was going to be his wife. + +The aged clergyman was fumbling with the Prayer Book: "The Form of +Solemnization of Matrimony" seemed hard to find. And so vagrant is +thought, that while he turned the leaves Aspatria remembered the +travelling-chariot, and wondered whether Ulfar meant to carry her away +in it, and what she would do for proper clothing. Will ought to have +told her something of the future. How cruel every one had been! It +took but a moment for these and many other thoughts to invade +Aspatria's heart, and spread dismay and anxiety and again the sense of +resentment. + +Then she heard the clergyman begin. His voice was like that of some +one speaking in a dream, till she sharply called herself together, +hearing also Ulfar's voice, and knowing that she too would be called +upon for her assent. She glanced up at Ulfar, who was dressed with +great care and splendour and looking very handsome, and said her "I +will" with the glance. Ulfar could not receive it unmoved; he looked +steadily at her, and then he saw the ruin of youth that his +faithlessness had made. Remorse bit him like a serpent, but remorse is +not repentance. Then William Anneys gave his sister to his enemy; and +the gift was like death to him, and the look accompanying the gift +filled Ulfar's heart with a contemptuous anger fatal to all juster or +kinder feelings. + +When the service was ended, Fenwick turned to Aspatria and offered her +his hand. She put hers into his, and so he led her down the aisle, +and through the churchyard, to her own carriage. William had followed +close. He wondered if Fenwick meant to take his wife with him, and he +resolved to give him the opportunity to do so. But as soon as he +perceived that the bridegroom would carry out his threat, and desert +his bride at the church gates, he stepped forward and said,-- + +"That is enough, Sir Ulfar Fenwick. I have made you keep your word. I +will care for your wife. She shall neither bear your name nor yet take +anything from your bounty." + +Fenwick paid no heed to his brother-in-law. He looked at Aspatria. She +was whiter than snow; she had the pallor of death. He lifted his hat +and said,-- + +"Farewell, Lady Fenwick. We shall meet no more." + +"Sir Ulfar," she answered calmly, "it is not my will that we met here +to-day." + +"And as for meeting no more," said Brune, with passionate contempt, "I +will warrant that is not in your say-so, Ulfar Fenwick." + +As he spoke, Fenwick's friend handed Will Anneys a card; then they +drove rapidly away. Will was carefully wrapping his sister for her +solitary ride back to Seat-Ambar; and he did this with forced +deliberation, trying to appear undisturbed by what had occurred; for, +since it had happened, he wished his neighbours to think he had fully +expected it. And while so engaged he found opportunity to whisper to +Aspatria: "Now, my little lass, bear up as bravely as may be. It is +only one hour. Only one hour, dearie! Don't you try to speak. Only +keep your head high till you get home, darling!" + +So the sad procession turned homeward, Aspatria sitting alone in her +carriage, William and Brune riding on either side of her, the squires +and dames bidden to the ceremony following slowly behind. Some talked +softly of the affair; some passionately assailed William Anneys for +not felling the villain where he stood. Gradually they said good-by, +and so went to their own homes. Aspatria had to speak to each, she had +to sit erect, she had to bear the wondering, curious gaze not only of +her friends, but of the hinds and peasant-women in the small hamlets +between the church and Seat-Ambar; she had to endure her own longing +and disappointment, and make a poor attempt to smile when the children +flung their little posies of late flowers into the passing carriage. + +To the last moment she bore it. "A good, brave girl!" said Will, as +he left her at her own room door. "My word! it is better to have good +blood than good fortune: good blood never was beat! Aspatria is only a +little lass, but she is more than a match for yon villain! A big +villain he is, a villain with a latchet!" + +The miserable are sacred. All through that wretched afternoon no one +troubled Aspatria. Will and Brune sat by the parlour fire, for the +most part silent. The rain, which had barely held off until their +return from the church, now beat against the window-panes, and +drenched and scattered even the hardy Michaelmas daisies. The house +was as still as if there had been death instead of marriage in it. Now +and then Brune spoke, and sometimes William answered him, and +sometimes he did not. + +At last, after a long pause, Brune asked: "What was it Fenwick's +friend gave you? A message?" + +"A message." + +"You might as well say what, Will." + +"Ay, I might. It said Fenwick would wait for me a week at the Sceptre +Inn, Carlisle." + +"Will you go to Carlisle?" + +"To be sure I will go. I would not miss the chance of 'throwing' +him,--no, not for ten years' life!" + +"Dear me! what a lot of trouble has come with just taking a stranger +in out of the storm!" + +"Ay, it is a venturesome thing to do. How can any one tell what a +stranger may bring in with him?" + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +FOR MOTHER'S SAKE. + + +In the upper chamber where Will had left his sister, a great mystery +of sorrow was being endured. Aspatria felt as if all had been. Life +had no more joy to give, and no greater grief to inflict. She +undressed with rapid, trembling fingers; her wedding finery was +hateful in her sight. On the night before she had folded all her store +of clothing, and laid it ready to put in a trunk. She had been quite +in the dark as to her destiny; the only thing that appeared certain to +her was that she would have to leave home. Perhaps she would go with +Ulfar from the church door. In that case Will would have to send her +clothing, and she had laid it in the neatest order for the emergency. + +On the top of one pile lay a crimson Canton crape shawl. Her mother +had worn it constantly during the last year of her life; and Aspatria +had put it away, as something too sacred for ordinary use. She now +folded it around her shoulders, and sat down. Usually, when things +troubled her, she was restless and kept in motion, but this trouble +was too bitter and too great to resist; she was quiet, she took its +blows passively, and they smote her on every side. + +Could she ever forget that cruel ride home, ever cease to burn and +shiver when she remembered the eyes that had scanned her during its +progress? The air seemed full of them. She covered her face to avoid +the pitying, wondering, scornful glances. But this ride through the +valley of humiliation was not the bitterest drop in her bitter cup; +she could have smiled as she rode and drank it, if Ulfar had been at +her side. It was his desertion that was so distracting to her. She had +thought of many sorrows in connection with this forced marriage, but +this sorrow had never suggested itself as possible. + +Therefore, when Ulfar bade her farewell she had felt as if standing on +the void of the universe. It was the superhuman woman within her that +had answered him, and that had held up her head and had strengthened +her for her part all through that merciless ride. And the sight of her +handsome, faithless lover, the tones of his voice, the touch of his +hand, his half-respectful, half-pitying kindness, had awakened in her +heart a tenfold love for him. + +For she understood then, for the first time, her social and +educational inferiority. She felt even that she had done herself less +than justice in her fine raiment: her country breeding and simple +beauty would have appeared to greater advantage in the white merino +she had desired to wear. She had been forced into a dress that +accentuated her deficiencies. At that hour she thought she could never +see Mrs. Frostham again. + +To these tempestuous, humiliating, heart-breaking reflections the +storm outside made an angry accompaniment. The wind howled down the +chimney and wailed around the house, and the rain beat against the +window and pattered on the flagged walks. The darkness came on early, +and the cold grew every hour more searching. She was not insensible to +these physical discomforts, but they seemed so small a part of her +misery that she made no resistance to their attack. Will and Brune, +sitting almost speechless downstairs, were both thinking of her. When +it was quite dark they grew unhappy. First one and then the other +crept softly to her room door. All was as still as death. No movement, +no sound of any kind, betrayed in what way the poor soul within +suffered. No thread of light came from beneath the door: she was in +the dark, and she had eaten nothing all day. + +About six o'clock Will could bear it no longer. He knocked softly at +her door, and said: "My little lass, speak to Will! Have a cup of tea! +Do have a cup of tea, dearie!" + +The voice was so unlike Will's voice that it startled Aspatria. It +told her of a suffering almost equalling her own. She rose from the +chair in which she had been sitting for hours, and went to him. The +room was dark, the passage was dark; he saw nothing but the denser +dark of her figure, and her white face above it. She saw nothing but +his great bulk and his shining eyes. But she felt the love flowing +out from his heart to her, she felt his sorrow and his sympathy, and +it comforted her. She said: "Will, do not fret about me. I am +over-getting the shame and sorrow. Yes, I will have a cup of tea, and +tell Tabitha to make a fire here. Dear Will, I have been a great +care and shame to you." + +"Ay, you have, Aspatria; but I would rather die than miss you, my +little lass." + +This interview gave a new bent to Aspatria's thoughts. As she drank +the tea, and warmed her chilled feet before the blaze, she took into +consideration what misery her love for Ulfar Fenwick had brought to +her brothers' once happy home, the anxiety, the annoyance, the shame, +the ill-will and quarrelling, the humiliations that Will and Brune had +been compelled to endure. Then suddenly there flashed across her mind +the card given to Will by Ulfar's friend. She was not too simple to +conceive of its meaning. It was a defiance of some kind, and she knew +how Will would answer it. Her heart stood still with terror. + +She had seen Will and Ulfar wrestling; she had heard Will say to +Brune, when Ulfar was absent, "He knows little about it; when I had +that last grip, I could have flung him into eternity." It was common +enough for dalesmen quarrelling to have a "fling" with one another and +stand by its results. If Will and Ulfar met thus, one or both would be +irremediably injured. In their relation to her, both were equally +dear. She would have given her poor little life cheerfully for the +love of either. Her cup shook in her hand. She had a sense of hurry in +the matter, that drove her like a leaf before a strong wind. If Will +got to bed before she saw him, he might be away in the morning ere she +was aware. She put down her cup, and while she stood a moment to +collect her strength and thoughts, the subject on all its sides +flashed clearly before her. + +A minute afterward she opened the parlour door. Brune sat bent +forward, with a poker in his hands. He was tracing a woman's name in +the ashes, though he was hardly conscious of the act. Will's head was +thrown back against his chair; he seemed to be asleep. But when +Aspatria opened the door, he sat upright and looked at her. A pallor +like death spread over his face; it was the crimson shawl, his +mother's shawl, which caused it. Wearing it, Aspatria closely +resembled her. Will had idolized his mother in life, and he worshipped +her memory. If Aspatria had considered every earthly way of touching +Will's heart, she could have selected none so certain as the shawl, +almost accidentally assumed. + +She went direct to Will. He drew a low stool to his side, and Aspatria +sat down upon it, and then stretched out her left hand to Brune. The +two men looked at their sister, and then they looked at each other. +The look was a vow. Both so understood it. + +"Will and Brune," the girl spoke softly, but with a great +steadiness,--"Will and Brune, I am sorry to have given you so much +shame and trouble." + +"It is not your fault, Aspatria," said Brune. + +"But I will do so no more. I will never name Ulfar again. I will try +to be cheerful and to make home cheerful, try to carry on life as it +used to be before he came. We will not let people talk of him, we will +not mind it if they do. Eh, Will?" + +"Just now, dear, in a little while." + +"Will, dear Will! what did that card mean,--the one Ulfar's friend +gave? You will not go near Ulfar, Will? Please do not!" + +"I have a bit of business to settle with him, Aspatria, and then I +never want to see his face again." + +"Will, you must not go." + +"Ay, but I must. I have been thought of with a lot of bad names, but +no one shall think 'coward' of me." + +"Will, remember all I have suffered to-day." + +"I am not likely to forget it." + +"That ride home, Will, was as if I was going up Calvary. My +wedding-dress was heavy as a cross, and that foolish wreath of flowers +was a wreath of cruel thorns. I was pitied and scorned, till I felt +as if my heart--my real heart--was all bruised and torn. I have +suffered so much, Will, spare me more suffering. Will! Will! for your +little sister's sake, put that card in the fire, and stay here, right +here with me." + +"My lass! my dear lass, you cannot tell what you are asking." + +"I am asking you to give up your revenge. I know that is a great thing +for a man to do. But, Will, dear, you stand in father's place, you are +sitting in father's chair; what would he say to you?" + +"He would say, 'Give the rascal a good thrashing, Will. When a man +wrongs a woman, there is no other punishment for him. Thrash him to +within an inch of his cruel, selfish, contemptible life!' That is what +father would say, Aspatria. I know it, I feel it." + +"If you will not give up your revenge for me, nor yet for father, then +I ask you for mother's sake! What would mother say to-night if she +were here?--very like she is here. Listen to her, Will. She is +saying, 'Spare my little girl any more sorrow and shame, Will, my boy +Will!'--that is what mother would say. And if you hurt Ulfar you hurt +me also, and if Ulfar hurts you my heart will break. The fell-side is +ringing now with my troubles. If I have any more, I will go away where +no one can find me. For mother's sake, Will! For mother's sake!" + +The strong man was sobbing behind his hands, the struggle was a +terrific one. Brune watched it with tears streaming unconsciously down +his cheeks. Aspatria sunk at Will's feet, and buried her face on his +knees. + +"For mother's sake, Will! Let Ulfar go free." + +"My dear little lass, I cannot!" + +"For mother's sake, Will! I am speaking for mother! For mother's +sake!" + +"I--I--Oh, what shall I do, Brune?" + +"For mother's sake, Will!" + +He trembled until the chair shook. He dared not look at the weeping +girl. She rose up. She gently moved away his hands. She kissed his +eyelids. She said, with an irresistible entreaty: "Look at me, Will. I +am speaking for mother. Let Ulfar alone. I do not say forgive him." + +"Nay, I will never forgive him." + +"But let him alone. Will! Will! let him alone, for mother's sake!" + +Then he stood up. He looked into Aspatria's eyes; he let his gaze +wander to the crimson shawl. He began to sob like a child. + +"You may go, Aspatria," he said, in broken words. "If you ask me +anything in mother's name, I have no power to say no." + +He walked to the window and looked out into the dark stormy night, and +Brune motioned to Aspatria to go away. He knew Will would regain +himself better in her absence. She was glad to go. As soon as Will had +granted her request, she fell to the lowest ebb of life. She could +hardly drag herself up the long, dark stairs. She dropped asleep as +soon as she reached her room. + +It was a bitter awakening. The soul feels sorrow keenest at the first +moments of consciousness. It has been away, perhaps, in happy scenes, +or it has been lulling itself in deep repose, and then suddenly it is +called to lift again the heavy burden of its daily life. Aspatria +stood in her cold, dim room; and even while shivering in her thin +night-dress, with bare feet treading the polished oak floor, she +hastily put out of her sight the miserable wedding-garments. A large +dower-chest stood conveniently near. She opened it wide, and flung +dress and wreath and slippers and cloak into it. The lid fell from her +hands with a great clang, and she said to herself, "I will never open +it again." + +The storm still continued. She dressed in simple household fashion, +and went downstairs. Brune sat by the fire. He said: "I was waiting +for you, Aspatria. Will is in the barn. He had his coffee and bacon +long ago." + +"Brune, will you be my friend through all this trouble?" + +"I will stand by you through thick and thin, Aspatria. There is my +hand on it." + +About great griefs we do not chatter; and there was no further +discussion of those events which had been barely turned away from +tragedy and death. Murder and despairing love and sorrow might have a +secret dwelling-place in Seat-Ambar, but it was in the background. The +front of life went on as smoothly as ever; the cows were milked, the +sheep tended, the men and maids had their tasks, the beds were made, +and the tables set, with the usual order and regularity. + +And Aspatria found this "habit of living" to be a good staff to lean +upon. She assumed certain duties, and performed them; and the house +was pleasanter for her oversight. Will and Brune came far oftener to +sit at the parlour fireside, when they found Aspatria there to welcome +them. And so the days and weeks followed one another, bringing with +them those commonplace duties and interests which give to existence a +sense of stability and order. No one spoke of Fenwick; but all the +more Aspatria nursed his image in her heart and her imagination. He +had dressed himself for his marriage with great care and splendour. +Never had he looked so handsome and so noble in her eyes, and never +until that hour had she realized her social inferiority to him, her +lack of polish and breeding, her ignorance of all things which a woman +of birth and wealth ought to know and to possess. + +This was a humiliating acknowledgment; but it was Aspatria's first +upward step, for with it came an invincible determination to make +herself worthy of her husband's love and companionship. The hope and +the object gave a new colour to her life. As she went about her simple +duties, as she sat alone in her room, as she listened to her brothers +talking, it occupied, strengthened, and inspired her. Dark as the +present was, it held the hope of a future which made her blush and +tingle to its far-off joy. To learn everything, to go everywhere, to +become a brilliant woman, a woman of the world, to make her husband +admire and adore her,--these were the dreams that brightened the long, +sombre winter, and turned the low dim rooms into a palace of +enchantment. + +She was aware of the difficulties in her way. She thought first of +asking Will to permit her to go to a school in London. But she knew he +would never consent. She had no friends to whom she could confide her +innocent plans, she had as yet no money in her own control. But in +less than two years she would be of age. Her fortune would then be at +her disposal, and the law would permit her to order her own life. In +the mean time she could read and study at home: when the spring came +she would see the vicar, and he would lend her books from his library. +There was an Encyclopaedia in the house; she got together its scattered +volumes, and began to make herself familiar with its _melange_ of +information. + +In such efforts her heart was purified from all bitterness, wounded +vanity, and impatience. Life was neither lonely nor monotonous, she +had a noble object to work for. So the winter passed, and the spring +came again. All over the fells the ewes and their lambs made constant +work for the shepherds; and Aspatria greatly pleased Will by going +out frequently to pick up the perishing, weakly lambs and succour +them. + +One day in April she took a bottle of warm milk and a bit of sponge +and went up Calder Fell. On the first reach of the fell she found a +dying lamb, and carried it down to the shelter of some whin-bushes. +Then she fed it with the warm milk, and the little creature went to +sleep in her arms. + +The grass was green and fresh, the sun warm; the whins sheltered her +from the wind, and a little thrush in them, busy building her nest, +was making sweet music out of air as sweet. All was so glad and quiet: +she, too, was happy in her own thoughts. A wagon passed, and then a +tax-cart, and afterward two old men going ditching. She hardly lifted +her head; every one knew Aspatria Anneys. When the shadows told her +that it was near noon, she rose to go home, holding the lamb in her +arms. At that moment a carriage came slowly from behind the hedge. +She saw the fine horses with their glittering harness, and knew it +was a strange vehicle in Ambar-Side, so she sat down again until it +should pass. The lamb was in her left arm. She threw back her head, +and gazed fixedly into the whin-bush where the thrush had its nest. +Whoever it was, she did not wish to be recognized. + +Lady Redware, Sarah Sandys, and Ulfar Fenwick were in the carriage. At +the moment she stood with the lamb in her arms, Ulfar had known his +wife. Lady Redware saw her almost as quickly, and in some occult way +she transferred, by a glance, the knowledge to Sarah. The carriage was +going very slowly; the beauty of the thrown-back head, the simplicity +of her dress, the pastoral charm of her position, all were distinct. +Ulfar looked at her with a fire of passion in his eyes, Lady Redware +with annoyance. Sarah asked, with a mocking laugh, "Is that really +Little Bo Peep?" The joke fell flat. Ulfar did not immediately answer +it; and Sarah was piqued. + +"I shall go to Italy again," she said. "Englishmen may be admirable +_en masse_, but individually they are stupid or cross." + +"In Italy there are the Capuchins," answered Ulfar. He remembered that +Sarah had expressed herself strongly about the order. + +"I have just passed a week at Oxford among the Reverends; all things +considered, I prefer the Capuchins. When you have dined with a lord +bishop, you want to become a socialist." + +"Your Oxford friends are very nice people, Sarah." + +"Excellent people, Elizabeth, quite superior people, and they are all +sure not only of going to heaven, but also of joining the very best +society the place affords." + +"Best society!" said Ulfar, pettishly. "I am going to America. There, +I hope, I shall hear nothing about it." + +"America is so truly admirable. Why was it put in such an out-of-the-way +place? You have to sail three thousand miles to get to it," pouted Sarah. + +"All things worth having are put out of the way," replied Ulfar. + +"Yes," sighed Sarah. "What an admirable story is that of the serpent +and the apple!" + +"Come, Ulfar!" said Lady Redware, "do try to be agreeable. You used to +be so delightful! Was he not, Sarah?" + +"Was he? I have forgotten, Elizabeth. Since that time a great deal of +water has run into the sea." + +"If you want an ill-natured opinion about yourself, by all means go to +a woman for it." And Ulfar enunciated this dictum with a very scornful +shrug of his shoulders. + +"Ulfar!" + +"It is so, Elizabeth." + +"Never mind him, dear!" said Sarah. "I do not. And I have noticed that +the men who give bad characters to women have usually much worse ones +themselves. I think Ulfar is quite ready for American society and its +liberal ideas." And Sarah drew her shawl into her throat, and looked +defiantly at Ulfar. + +"The Americans are all socialists. I have read that, Ulfar. You know +what these liberal ideas come to,--always socialism." + +"Do not be foolish, Elizabeth. Socialism never comes from liberality +of thought: it is always a bequest of tyranny." + +"Ulfar, when are you going to be really nice and good again?" + +"I do not know, Elizabeth." + +"Ulfar is a standing exception to the rule that when things are at +their worst they must mend. Ulfar, lately, is always at his worst, and +he never mends." + +There was really some excuse for Ulfar; he was suffering keenly, and +neither of the two women cared to recognize the fact. He had just +returned from Italy with his father's remains, and after their burial +he had permitted Elizabeth to carry him off with her to Redware. In +reality the neighbourhood of Aspatria drew him like a magnet. He had +been haunted by her last, resentful, amazed, miserable look. He +understood from it that Will had never told her of his intention to +bid her farewell as soon as she was his wife, and he was not devoid of +imagination. His mind had constantly pictured scenes of humiliation +which he had condemned the woman he had once so tenderly loved to +endure. + +And that passing glimpse of her under the whin-bushes had revived +something of his old passion. He answered his sister's and Sarah's +remarks pettishly, because he wanted to be left alone with the new +hope that had come to him. Why not take Aspatria to America? She was +his wife. He had been compelled, by his sense of justice and honour, +to make her Lady Fenwick; why should he deny himself her company, +merely to keep a passionate, impulsive threat? + +To the heart the past is eternal, and love survives the pang of +separation. He thought of Aspatria for the next twenty-four hours. To +see her! to speak to her! to hear her voice! to clasp her to his +heart! Why should he deny himself these delights? What pleasure could +pride and temper give him in exchange? Fenwick had always loved to +overcome an obstacle, and such people cannot do without obstacles; +they are a necessary aliment. To see and to speak with Aspatria was +now the one thing in life worthy of his attention. + +It was not an easy thing to accomplish. Every day for nearly a week he +rode furiously to Calder Wood, tied his horse there, and then hung +about the brow of Calder Cliff, for it commanded Seat-Ambar, which lay +below it as the street lies below a high tower. With his glass he +could see Will and Brune passing from the house to the barns or the +fields, and once he saw Aspatria go to meet her brother Will; he saw +her lift her face to Will's face, he saw Will put her arm through his +arm and so go with her to the house. How he hated Will Anneys! What a +triumph it would be to carry off his sister unknown to him and without +his say-so! + +One morning he determined if he found no opportunity to see Aspatria +that day alone he would risk all, and go boldly to the house. Why +should he not do so? He had scarcely made the decision when he saw +Will and Brune drive away together. He remembered it was Dalton +market-day; and he knew that they had gone there. Almost immediately +Aspatria left the house also. Then he was jealous. Where was she going +as soon as her brothers left her? She was going to the vicar's to +return a book and carry him a cream cheese of her own making. + +He knew then how to meet her. She would pass through a meadow on her +way home, and this meadow was skirted by a young plantation. Half-way +down there was a broad stile between the two. He hurried his steps, +and arrived there just as Aspatria entered the meadow. There was a +high frolicking wind blowing right in her face. It had blown her +braids loose, and her tippet and dress backward; her slim form was +sharply defined by it, and it compelled her to hold up both her hands +in order to keep her hat on her head. + +She came on so, treading lightly, almost dancing with the merry gusts +to and fro. Once Ulfar heard a little cry that was half laughter, as +the wind made her pirouette and then stand still to catch her breath. +Ulfar thought the picture bewitching. He waited until she was within a +yard or two of the stile, ere he crossed it. She was holding her hat +down: she did not see him until he could have put his hand upon her. +Then she let her hands fall, and her hat blew backward, and she stood +quite still and quite speechless, her colour coming and going, all a +woman's softest witchery beaming in her eyes. + +"Aspatria! dear Aspatria! I am come to take you with me. I am going to +America." He spoke a little sadly, as if he had some reason for +feeling grieved. + +She shook her head positively, but she did not, or she could not, +speak. + +"Aspatria, have you no kiss, no word of welcome, no love to give me?" +And he put out his hand, as if to draw her to his embrace. + +She stepped quickly backward: "No, no, no! Do not touch me, Ulfar. Go +away. Please go away!" + +"But you must go with me. You are my wife, Aspatria." And he said the +last words very like a command. + +"I am not your wife. Oh, no!" + +"I say you are. I married you in Aspatria Church." + +"You also left me there, left me to such shame and sorrow as no man +gives to the woman he loves." + +"Perhaps I did act cruelly in two or three ways, Aspatria; but people +who love forgive two or three offences. Let us be lovers as we used to +be." + +"No, I will not be lovers as we used to be. People who love do not +commit two or three such offences as you committed against me." + +"I will atone for them. I will indeed! Aspatria, I miss you very much. +I will not go to America without you. How soon can you be ready? In a +week?" + +"You will atone to me? How? There is but one way. You shall, in your +own name, call every one in Allerdale, gentle and simple, to Aspatria +Church. You shall marry me again in their presence, and go with me to +my own home. The wedding-feast shall be held there. You shall count +Will and Brune Anneys as your brothers. You shall take me away, in the +sight of all, to your home. Of all the honour a wife ought to have you +must give me here, among my own people, a double portion. Will you do +this in atonement?" + +"You are talking folly, Aspatria. I have married you once." + +"You have not married me once. You met me at Aspatria Church to shame +me, to break my heart with love and sorrow, to humble my good +brothers. No, I am not your wife! I will not go with you!" + +"I can make you go, Aspatria. You seem to forget the law--" + +"Will says the law will protect me. But if it did not, if you took me +by force to your house or yacht, you would not have me. You could not +touch me. Aspatria Anneys is beyond your reach." + +"You are Aspatria Fenwick." + +"I have never taken your name. Will told me not to do so. Anneys is a +good name. No Anneys ever wronged me." + +"You refused my home, you refused my money, and now you refuse my +name. You are treating me as badly as possible. The day before our +marriage I sent to your brother a signed settlement for your support, +the use of Fenwick Castle as a residence, and two thousand pounds a +year. Your brother Will, the day after our marriage, took it to my +agent and tore it to pieces in his presence." + +"Will did right. He knew his sister would not have your home and money +without your love." + +She spoke calmly, with a dignity that became well her youth and +beauty. Ulfar thought her exceedingly lovely. He attempted to woo her +again with the tender glances and soft tones and caressing touch of +their early acquaintance. Aspatria sorrowfully withdrew herself; she +held only repelling palms toward his bending face. She was not coy, he +could have overcome coyness; she was cold, and calm, and watchful of +him and of herself. Her face and throat paled and blushed, and blushed +and paled; her eyes were dilated with feeling; her pretty bow-shaped +mouth trembled; she radiated a personality sweet, strong, womanly,--a +piquant, woodland, pastoral delicacy, all her own. + +But after many useless efforts to influence her, he began to despair. +He perceived that she still loved him, perhaps better than she had +ever done, but that her determination to consider their marriage void +had its source in a oneness of mind having no second thoughts and no +doubt behind it. The only hope she gave him was in another marriage +ceremony which in its splendour and publicity should atone in some +measure for the first. He could not contemplate such a confession of +his own fault. He could not give Will and Brune Anneys such a triumph. +If Aspatria loved him, how could she ask such a humiliating atonement? +Aspatria saw the shadow of these reflections on his face. Though he +said nothing, she understood it was this struggle that gave the +momentary indecision to his pleading. + +For herself, she did not desire a present reconciliation. She had +nursed too long the idea of the Aspatria that was to be, the wise, +clever, brilliant woman who was to win over again her husband. She did +not like to relinquish this hope for a present gratification, a +gratification so much lower in its aim that she now understood that it +never could long satisfy a nature so complex and so changeable as +Ulfar's. She therefore refused him his present hope, believing that +fate had a far better meeting in store for them. + +While these thoughts flashed through her mind, she kept her eyes upon +the horizon. In that wide-open fixed gaze her loving, troubled soul +revealed itself. Ulfar was wondering whether it was worth while to +begin his argument all over again, when she said softly: "We must now +say farewell. I see the vicar's maid coming. In a few hours the +fell-side will know of our meeting. I must tell Will, myself. I +entreat you to leave the dales as soon as possible." + +"I will not leave them without you." + +"Go to-night. I shall not change what I have said. There is nothing to +be done but to part. We are no longer alone. Good-by, Ulfar!--dear +Ulfar!" + +"I care not who is present. You are my wife." And he clasped her in +his arms and kissed her. + +Perhaps she was not sorry. Perhaps her own glance of love and longing +had commanded the embrace; for when she released herself she was +weeping, and Ulfar's tears were on her cheeks. But she called the +vicar's maid imperatively, and so put an end to the interview. + +"That was my husband, Lottie," she said. It was the only explanation +offered. Aspatria knew it was useless to expect any reticence on the +subject. In that isolated valley such a piece of news could not be +kept; the very birds would talk about it in their nests. She must +herself tell Will, and although she had done nothing wrong, she was +afraid to tell him. + +When she reached home she was glad to hear that Will had been sent for +to Squire Frostham's. "It was something about a fox," said Brune. +"They wanted me too, but Alice Frostham is a girl I cannot abide. I +would not go near her." + +"Brune, will you take a long ride for my sake?" + +"I will do anything for you I can." + +"I met Ulfar Fenwick this morning." + +"Then you did a bad thing. I would not have believed it of you. Good +Lord! there is as much two-facedness in a woman as there is meat in an +egg." + +"Brune, you are thinking wrong. I did not know he was in the country +till he stood before me; and he did not move me a hair's-breadth any +way. But Lottie from the vicarage saw us together; and she was going +to Dalton. You know what she will say; and by and by the Frosthams +will hear; and then they will feel it to be 'only kind' to talk to +Will about me and my affairs; and the end of it will be some foolish +deed or other. If you love me, Brune, go to Redware to-night, and see +Lady Redware, and tell her there is danger for her brother if he stays +around here." + +"I can say that truly. There is danger for the scoundrel, a good deal +of it." + +"Brune, it would be such a sorrow to me if every one were talking of +me again. Do what I ask you, Brune. You promised to stand by me +through thick and thin." + +"I did; and I will go to Redware as soon as I have eaten my dinner. If +Lottie saw him, it will be known all over. And if no one came up here +on purpose to tell Will, he would hear it at Dalton next week, when +that lot of bothering old squires sit down to their market dinner. It +would be a grand bit for them to chew with their victuals." + +"I thought they talked about politics." + +"They are like other men. If you get more than one man in a place, +they are talking bad about some woman. They call it politics, but it +is mostly slander." + +"I am going to tell Will myself." + +"That is a deal the best plan." + +"Be sure to frighten Lady Redware; make her think Ulfar's life is in +danger,--anything to get him out of the dales." + +"She will feel as if the heavens were going to fall, when I get done +with her. My word! who would have thought of him coming back? Life is +full of surprises." + +"But only think, if there was never anything accidental happened! +Surprises are just what make life worth having,--eh, Brune?" + +"Maybe so, and maybe not. When Will comes home, tell him everything at +once. I can manage Lady Redware, I'll be bound." + +With the promise he went away to perform it, and Aspatria carried her +trembling heart into solitude. But the lonely place was full of Ulfar. +A thousand hopes were budding in her heart, growing slowly, strongly, +sweetly, in that earth which she had made for them out of her love, +her desires, her hopes, and her faithful aspirations. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +BUT THEY WERE YOUNG. + + +Brune arrived at Redware Hall while it was still afternoon, and he +found no difficulty in obtaining an interview with its mistress. She +was sitting at a table in a large bay-window, painting the view from +it. For in those days ladies were not familiar with high art and all +its nomenclature and accessories; Lady Redware had never thought of an +easel, or a blouse, or indeed of any of the trappings now considered +necessary to the making of pictures. She was prettily dressed in silk; +and a square of bristol-board, a box of Newman's water-colours, and a +few camel's-hair pencils were neatly arranged before her. + +She rose when Brune entered, and met him with a suave courtesy; and +the unsophisticated young man took it for a genuine pleasure. He felt +sorry to trouble such a nice-looking gentlewoman, and he said so with +a sincerity that made her suddenly serious. "Have you brought me bad +news, Mr. Anneys?" she asked. + +"I am afraid you will be put about a bit. Sir Ulfar Fenwick met my +sister this morning; and they were seen by ill-natured eyes, and I +came, quiet-like, to let you know that he must leave the dales +to-night." + +"Cannot Sir Ulfar meet his own wife?" + +"Lady Redware, that is not the question. Put it, 'Cannot Sir Ulfar +meet your sister?' and I will answer you quick enough, 'Not while +there are two honest men in Allerdale to prevent him.'" + +"You cannot frighten Sir Ulfar from Allerdale. To threaten him is to +make him stay." + +"Dalesmen are not ones to threaten. I tell you that the vicar's maid +saw Sir Ulfar and my sister together; and when William Anneys hears of +it, Sir Ulfar will get such a notice to leave these parts as will +give him no choice. I came to warn him away before he could not help +himself. I say freely, I did so to please Aspatria, and out of no +good-will going his way." + +"But if he will not leave Allerdale?" + +"But if William Anneys, and the sixty gentlemen who will ride with +William Anneys, say he must go? What then?" + +"Of course Sir Ulfar cannot fight a mob." + +"Not one of that mob of gentlemen would fight him; but they all carry +stout riding-whips." And Brune looked at the lady with a sombre +intentness which made further speech unnecessary. She had been alarmed +from the first; she now made no further attempt to disguise her +terror. + +"What must I do, Mr. Anneys?" she asked. "What must I do?" + +"Send your brother away from Cumberland to-night. I say he must leave +to-night. To-morrow morning may be too late to prevent a great +humiliation. Aspatria begged me to come to you. I do not say I wanted +to come." + +At this moment the door opened, and Sarah Sandys entered. Brune +turned, and saw her; and his heart stood still. She came slowly +forward, her garment of pale-green and white just touching her +sandalled feet. She had a rush basket full of violets in her hands; +there were primroses in her breast and belt, and her face was like a +pink rose. High on her head her fair hair was lifted, and, being +fastened with a large turquoise comb, it gave the idea of sunshine and +blue sky. + +Brune stood looking at her, as a mortal might look at the divine +Cytherea made manifest. His handsome, open face, full of candid +admiration, had almost an august character. He bowed to her, as men +bow when they bend their heart and give its homage and delight. Sarah +was much impressed by the young man's beauty, and she felt his swift +adoration of her own charms. She made Lady Redware introduce her to +Brune, and she completed her conquest of the youth as she stood a +moment holding his hand and smiling with captivating grace into his +eyes. + +Then Lady Redware explained Brune's mission, and Sarah grasped the +situation without any disguises. "It simply means flight, Elizabeth," +she said. "What could Ulfar do with fifty or sixty angry Cumberland +squires? He would have to go. In fact, I know they have a method of +persuasion no mortal man can resist." + +Brune saw that his errand was accomplished. Lady Redware thanked him +for his consideration, and Sarah rang for the tea-service, and made +him a cup, and gave it to him with her own lovely hands. Brune saw +their exquisite form, their translucent glow, the sparkling of +diamonds and emeralds upon them. The tea was as if brewed in +Paradise; it tasted of all things delightful; it was a veritable cup +of enchantments. + +Then Brune rode away, and the two women watched him over the hill. He +sat his great black hunter like a cavalry officer; and the creature +devoured the distance with strides that made their hearts leap to the +sense of its power and life. + +"He is the very handsomest man I ever saw!" said Sarah. + +"What is to be done about Ulfar? Sarah, you must manage this business. +He will not listen to me." + +"Ulfar has five senses. Ulfar is very fond of himself. He will leave +Redware, of course. How handsome Brune Anneys is!" + +"Will you coax him to leave to-night?" + +"Ulfar? Yes, I will; for it is the proper thing for him to do. It +would be a shame to bring his quarrels to your house.--What a splendid +rider! Look, Elizabeth, he is just topping the hill! I do believe he +turned his head! Is he not handsome? Apollo! Antinoues! Pshaw! Brune +Anneys is a great deal more human, and a great deal more godlike, than +either." + +"Do not be silly, Sarah. And do occupy yourself a little with Ulfar +now." + +"When the hour comes, I will. Ulfar is evidently occupying himself at +present in watching his wife. There is a decorous naughtiness and a +stimulating sense of danger about seeing Aspatria, that must be a +thorough enjoyment to Ulfar." + +"Men are always in fusses. Ulfar has kept my heart palpitating ever +since he could walk alone." + +Sarah sighed. "It is very difficult," she said, "to decide whether +very old men or very young men can be the greater trial. The suffering +both can cause is immense! Poor Sandys was sixty-six, and Ulfar is +thirty-six, and--" She shook her head, and sighed again. + +"How hateful country-people are!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "They must +talk, no matter what tragedy they cause with their scandalous words." + +"Are they worse than our own set, either in town or country? You know +what the Countess of Denbigh considered pleasant conversation?--telling +things that ought not to be told." + +"The Countess is a wretch! she would tell the most sacred of +secrets." + +"I tell secrets also. I do not consider it wrong. What business has +any one to throw the _onus_ of keeping their secret on my shoulders? +Why should they expect from me more prudence than they themselves have +shown?" + +"That is true. But in these valleys they speak so uncomfortably +direct; nothing but the strongest, straightest, most definite words +will be used." + +"That is a pity. People ought to send scandal through society in a +respectable hunt-the-slipper form of circulation. But that is a kind +of decency to be cultivated. However, I shall tell Ulfar, in the +plainest words I can find, that there will be about sixty Cumberland +squires here to-morrow, to ride with him out of the county, and that +they are looking forward to the fun of it just as much as if it was a +fox-hunt. Ulfar has imagination. He will be able to conceive such a +ride,--the flying man, and the roaring, laughing, whip-cracking +squires after him! He will remember how Tom Appleton the wrestler, who +did something foul, was escorted across the county line last summer. +And Ulfar hates a scene. Can you fancy him making himself the centre +of such an affair?" + +So they talked while Brune galloped homeward in a very happy mood. He +felt as those ancients may have felt when they met the Immortals and +saluted them. The thought of the beautiful Mrs. Sandys filled his +imagination; but he talked comfortably to Aspatria, and assured her +that there was now no fear of a meeting between her husband and Will. +"Only," he said, "tell Will yourself to-night, and he will never doubt +you." + +Unfortunately, Will did not return that night from the Frosthams'; for +in the morning the two men were to go together to Dalton very early. +Will heard nothing there, but Mrs. Frostham was waiting at her garden +gate to tell him when he returned. He had left Squire Frostham with +his son-in-law, and was alone. Mrs. Frostham made a great deal of the +information, and broke it to Will with much consideration. Will heard +her sullenly. He was getting a few words ready for Aspatria, as Mrs. +Frostham told her tale, but they were for her alone. To Mrs. Frostham +he adopted a tone she thought very ungrateful. + +For when the whole affair, real and consequential, had been told, he +answered: "What is there to make a wonder of? Cannot a woman talk and +walk a bit with her own husband? Maybe he had something very +particular to say to her. I think it is a shame to bother a little +lass about a thing like that." + +And he folded himself so close that Mrs. Frostham could neither +question nor sympathize with him longer. "Good-evening to you," he +said coldly; and then, while visible, he took care to ride as if quite +at his ease. But the moment the road turned from Frostham he whipped +his horse to its full speed, and entered the farmyard with it in a +foam of hurry, and himself in a foam of passion. + +Aspatria met him with the confession on her lips. He gave her no time. +He assailed her with affronting and injurious epithets. He pushed her +hands and face from him. He vowed her tears were a mockery, and her +intention of confessing a lie. He met all her efforts at explanation, +and all her attempts to pacify him, at sword-point. + +She bore it patiently for a while; and then Will Anneys saw an +Aspatria he had never dreamed of. She seemed to grow taller; she did +really grow taller; her face flamed, her eyes flashed, and, in a voice +authoritative and irresistible, she commanded him to desist. + +"You are my worst enemy," she said. "You are as deaf as the village +gossips. You will not listen to the truth. Your abuse, heard by every +servant in the house, certifies all that malice dares to think. And +in wounding my honour you are a parricide to our mother's good name! I +am ashamed of you, Will!" + +From head to foot she reflected the indignation in her heart, as she +stood erect with her hands clasped and the palms dropped downward, no +sign of tears, no quiver of fear or doubt, no retreat, and no +submission, in her face or attitude. + +"Why, whatever is the matter with you, Aspatria?" + +At this moment Brune entered, and she went to him, and put her hand +through his arm, and said: "Brune, speak for me! Will has insulted +mother and father, through me, in such a way that I can never forgive +him!" + +"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Will Anneys!" And Brune put his +sister gently behind him, and then marched squarely up to his +brother's face. "You are as passionate as a brute beast, Will, and +that, too, with a poor little lass that has her own troubles, and has +borne them like--like a good woman always does." + +"I do not want to hear you speak, Brune." + +"Ay, but I will speak, and you shall hear me. I tell you, Aspatria is +in no kind to blame. The man came on her sudden, out of the +plantation. She did not take his hand, she did not listen to him. She +sent him about his business as quick as might be." + +"Lottie Patterson saw her," said Will, dourly. + +"Because Aspatria called Lottie Patterson to her; and if Lottie +Patterson says she saw anything more or worse than ought to be, I will +pretty soon call upon Seth Patterson to make his sister's words good. +Cush! I will that! And what is more, Will Anneys, if you do not know +how to take care of your sister's good name, I will teach you,--you +mouse of a man! You go and side with that Frostham set against +Aspatria! Chaff on the Frosthams! It is a bad neighbourhood where a +girl like Aspatria cannot say a word or two on the king's highway at +broad noonday, without having a _sisserara_ about it." + +"I did not side with the Frosthams against Aspatria." + +"I'll be bound you did!" + +"Let me alone, Brune! Go your ways out of here, both of you!" + +"To be sure, we will both go. Come, Aspatria. When you are tired of +ballooning, William Anneys, and can come down to common justice, maybe +then I will talk to you,--not till." + +Now, good honest anger is one of the sinews of the soul; and he that +wants it when there is occasion has but a maimed mind. The hot words, +the passionate atmosphere, the rebellion of Aspatria, the decision of +Brune, had the same effect upon Will's senseless anger as a +thunder-storm has upon the hot, heavy, summer air. Will raged his bad +temper away, and was cool and clear-minded after it. + +At the same hour the same kind of mental thunder-storm was prevailing +over all common-sense at Redware Hall. Ulfar, after a long and vain +watch for another opportunity to speak to Aspatria, returned there in +a temper compounded of anger, jealousy, disappointment, and +unsatisfied affection. He heard Lady Redware's story of his own danger +and of Brune's consideration with scornful indifference. Brune's +consideration he laughed at. He knew very well, he answered, that +Brune Anneys hated him, and would take the greatest delight in such a +hubbub as he pretended was in project. + +"But he came to please Aspatria," continued Lady Redware. "He said he +came only to please Aspatria." + +"So Aspatria wishes me to leave Allerdale? I will not go." + +"Sarah, he will not go," cried Lady Redware, as her friend entered +the room. "He says he will not go." + +"That is because you have appealed to Ulfar's feelings instead of to +his judgment. When Ulfar considers how savagely primitive these +dalesmen are in their passions, he will understand that discretion is +the nobler part of valour. In Russia he thought it a very prudent +thing to get out of the way when a pack of wolves were in the +neighbourhood." + +"The law will protect me in this house. Human beings have to mind the +law." + +"There are times when human beings are a law unto themselves. How +would you like to see a crowd of angry men shouting around this house +for you? Think of your sister,--and of me, if I am worth so much +consideration." + +"I am not to be frightened, Sarah." + +"Will you consider, then, that as far as Keswick and Kendal on one +side, and as far as Dalton and Whitehaven on the other side, every +local newspaper will have, or will make, its own version of the +affair? The Earl of Lonsdale, with a large party, is now at +Whitehaven Castle. What a _sauce piquante_ it will be to his dinners! +How the men will howl over it, and how the women will snicker and +smile!" + +"Sarah! you can think of the hatefullest things." + +"And Lonsdale will go up to London purposely to have the delight of +telling it at the clubs." + +"Sarah!" + +"And the 'Daily Whisper' will get Lonsdale's most delectable version, +and blow it with the four winds of heaven to the four corners of the +civilized world." + +"Sarah Sandys, I--" + +"Worse still! that poor girl whom you treated so abominably, must +suffer the whole thing over again. Her name will be put as the head +and front of your offending. All her sorrows and heartbreak will be +made a penny mouthful for country bumpkins and scandalous gammers to +'Oh!' and 'Ah!' over. Ulfar, if you are a man, you will not give her a +moment's terror of such consequences. You may see that she fears +them, by her sending her brother to entreat your absence." + +"And I must be called coward and runaway!" + +"Let them call you anything they like, so that you spare her further +shame and sorrow." + +"Your talking in this fashion to me, Sarah, is very like Satan +correcting sin. I loved Aspatria when I met you in Rome." + +"Of course! Adam always has his Eve ready. 'Not my fault, good people! +Look at this woman! With her bright smiles and her soft tongue she +beguiled me; and so I fell!' We can settle that question, you and +I, again. Now you must ring the bell, and order your horse--say, +at four o'clock to-morrow morning. You can have nearly six hours' +sleep,--quite enough for you." + +"You have not convinced me, Sarah." + +"Then you must ride now, and be convinced afterward. For your sister's +sake and for Aspatria's sake, you will surely go away." + +Lady Redware was crying, and she cried a little harder to emphasize +Sarah's pleading. Ulfar was in a hard strait. He looked angrily at the +handsome little woman urging him to do the thing he hated to do, and +then taking the kerchief from his sister's face, he kissed her, and +promised to leave Redware at dawn of day. + +"But," said he, "if you send me away now, I tell you, our parting is +likely to be for many years, perhaps for life. I am going beyond +civilization, and so beyond scandal." + +"Do not flatter yourself so extravagantly, Ulfar. There is scandal +everywhere, and always has been, even from the beginning. I have no +doubt those nameless little sisters of Cain and Abel were talked about +unpleasantly by their sisters and brothers-in-law. In fact, wherever +there are women there are men glad to pull them down to their own +level." + +"Is it not very hard, then, that I am not to be permitted to stay here +and defend the women I love?" + +Sarah shook her head. "It is beyond your power, Ulfar. If Porthos were +on earth again, or Amadis of Gaul, they might have happy and useful +careers in handling as they deserve the maligners of good, quiet +women. But the men of this era!--which of them durst lift the stone +that the hand without sin is permitted to cast?" + +So they talked the night away, drifting gradually from the unpleasant +initial subject to Ulfar's plan of travel and the far-off prospect of +his return. And in the gray, cold dawn he bade them farewell, and they +watched him until he vanished in the mists rolling down the mountain. +Then they kissed each other,--a little, sad kiss of congratulation, +wet with tears; they had won their desire, but their victory had left +them weeping. Alas! it is the very condition of success that every +triumph must be baptized with somebody's tears. + +This event, beginning in such a trifle as an almost accidental visit +of Aspatria to the vicar, was the line sharply dividing very different +lives. Nothing in Seat-Ambar was ever quite the same after it. William +Anneys, indeed, quickly perceived and acknowledged his fault, and the +reconciliation was kind and complete; but Aspatria had taken a step +forward, and crossed clearly that bound which divides girlhood from +womanhood. Unconsciously she assumed a carriage that Will felt +compelled to respect, and a tone was in her voice he did not care to +bluff and contradict. He never again ordered her to remain silent or +to leave his presence. A portion of his household authority had passed +from him, both as regarded Aspatria and Brune; and he felt himself to +be less master than he had formerly been. + +Perhaps this was one reason of the growing frequency of his visits to +Frostham. There he was made much of, deferred to, and all his little +fancies flattered and obeyed. Will knew he was the most important +person in the world to Alice Frostham; and he knew, also, that he only +shared Aspatria's heart with Ulfar Fenwick. Men like the whole heart, +and nothing less than the whole heart; hence Alice's influence grew +steadily all through the summer days, full to the brim of happy labour +and reasonable love. As early as the haymaking Will told Aspatria that +Alice was coming to Seat-Ambar as its mistress; and when the harvest +was gathered in, the wedding took place. It was as noisily jocund an +affair as Aspatria's had been silent and sorrowful; and Alice +Frostham, encircled by Will's protecting arm, was led across the +threshold of her own new home, to the sound of music and rejoicing. + +The home was quickly divided, though without unkind intent. Will and +Alice had their own talk, their own hopes and plans, and Aspatria and +Brune generally felt that their entrance interfered with some +discussion. So Aspatria and Brune began to sit a great deal in +Aspatria's room, and by and by to discuss, in a confidential way, what +they were to do with their future. Brune had no definite idea. +Aspatria's intents were clear and certain. But she knew that she must +wait until the spring brought her majority and her freedom. + +One frosty day, near Christmas, as Brune was returning from Dalton, he +heard himself called in a loud, cheerful voice. He was passing +Seat-Ketel, and he soon saw Harry Ketel coming quickly toward him. +Harry wore a splendid scarlet uniform; and the white snow beneath his +feet, and the dark green pines between which he walked, made it all +the more splendid by their contrast. Brune had not seen Harry for +five years; but they had been companions through their boyhood, and +their memories were stored with the pleasant hours they had spent +together. + +Brune passed that night, and many subsequent ones, with his old +friend; and when Harry went back to his regiment he took with him a +certainty that Brune would soon follow. In fact, Harry had found his +old companion in that mood which is ready to accept the first opening +as the gift of fate. Brune found there was a commission to be bought +in the Household Foot-Guards, and he was well able to pay for it. +Indeed, Brune was by no means a poor man; his father had left him +seven thousand pounds, and his share of the farm's proceeds had been +constantly added to it. + +Aspatria was delighted. She might now go to London in Brune's care. +They discussed the matter constantly, and began to make the +preparations necessary for the change. But affairs were not then +arranged by steam and electricity, and the letters relating to the +purchase and transfer of Brune's commission occupied some months in +their transit to and fro; although Brune did not rely upon the +postman's idea of the practicability of the roads. + +Aspatria's correspondence was also uncertain and unsatisfactory +for some time. She had at first no guide to a school but the +advertisements in the London papers which Harry sent to his friend. +But one night Brune, without any special intention, named the matter +to Mrs. Ketel; and that lady was able to direct Aspatria to an +excellent school in Richmond, near London. And as she was much more +favourably situated for a quick settlement of the affair, she +undertook the necessary correspondence. + +Will was not ignorant of these movements, but Alice induced him to be +passive in them. "No one can then blame us, Will, whatever happens." +And as Will and Alice were extremely sensitive to public opinion, this +was a good consideration. Besides Alice, not unnaturally, wished to +have the Seat to herself; so that Aspatria's and Brune's wishes fitted +admirably into her own desires, and it gave her a kind of selfish +pleasure to forward them. + +The ninth of March was Aspatria's twenty-first birthday; and it was to +her a very important anniversary, for she received as its gift her +freedom and her fortune. There was no hitch or trouble in its transfer +from Will to herself. Honour and integrity were in the life-blood of +William Anneys, honesty and justice the very breath of his nostrils. +Aspatria's fortune had been guarded with a super-sensitive care; and +when years gave her its management, Will surrendered it cheerfully to +her control. + +Fortunately, the school selected by Mrs. Ketel satisfied Will +thoroughly; and Brune's commission in the Foot-Guards was in +honourable accord with the highest traditions and spirit of the dales. +For the gigantic and physically handsome men of these mountain +valleys have been for centuries considered the finest material for +those regiments whose duty it is to guard the persons and the homes of +royalty. Brune had only followed in the steps of a great number of his +ancestors. + +In the beginning of April, Aspatria left Seat-Ambar for London,--left +forever all the pettiness of her house life, chairs and tables, sewing +and meals, and the useless daily labour that has to be continually +done over again. And at the last Will was very tender with her, and +even Alice did her best to make the parting days full of hope and +kindness. As for the journey, there was no anxiety; Brune was to +travel with his sister, and see her safely within her new home. + +Yet neither of them left the old home without some tears. Would they +ever see again those great, steadfast hills, that purify those who +walk upon them; ever dwell again within the dear old house, that had +not been builded, but had grown with the family it had sheltered, +through a thousand years? They hardly spoke to each other, as they +drove through the sweet valleys, where the sunshine laid a gold on the +green, and the warm south-wind gently rocked the daisies, and the +lark's song was like a silvery water-fall up in the sky. + +But they were young; and, oh, the rich significance of the word +"young" when the heart is young as well as the body, when the thoughts +are not doubts, and when the eyes look not backward, but only forward, +into a bright future! + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +"LOVE SHALL BE LORD OF SANDY-SIDE." + + +During thirty years of the first half of this century Mrs. St. Alban's +finishing school for young gentlewomen was a famous institution of its +kind. For she had been born to the manner of courts and of people of +high degree; and when evil fortune met her, she very wisely turned her +inherited social advantages into a means of honest livelihood. +Aspatria was much impressed by her noble bearing and fine manners, and +by the elaborate state in which the twelve pupils, of whom she was +one, lived. + +Each had her own suite of apartments; each was expected to keep a +maid, and to dress with the utmost care and propriety. There were +fine horses in the stables for their equestrian exercise, there +were grooms to attend them during it, and there were regular +reception-days, which afforded tyros in social accomplishments +practical opportunities for cultivating the graceful and gracious +urbanity which evidences really fine breeding. + +Many of Aspatria's companions were of high rank,--Lady Julias and Lady +Augustas, who were destined to wear ducal coronets and to stand around +the throne of their young queen. But they were always charmingly +pleasant and polite, and Aspatria soon acquired their outward form of +calm deliberation and their mode of low, soft speech. For the rest, +she decided, with singular prudence, to cultivate only those talents +which nature had obviously granted her. + +A few efforts proved that she had no taste for art. Indeed, the +attempt to portray the majesty of the mountains or the immensity of +the ocean seemed to her childishly petty and futile. She had dwelt +among the high places and been familiar with the great sea, and to +make images of them appeared a kind of sacrilege. But she liked the +study of languages, and she had a rich contralto voice capable of +expressing all the emotions of the heart. At the piano she hesitated; +its music, under her unskilled fingers, sounded mechanical; she +doubted her ability to put a soul into that instrument. But the harp +was different; its strings held sympathetic tones she felt competent +to master. To these studies she added a course of English literature +and dancing. She was already a fine rider, and her information +obtained from the vicar's library and the Encyclopaedia covered an +enormous variety of subjects, though it was desultory, and in many +respects imperfect. + +Her new life was delightful to her. She had an innate love for study, +for quiet, and for elegant surroundings. These tastes were fully +gratified. The large house stood in a fair garden, surrounded by very +high walls, with entrance-gates of handsomely wrought iron. Perfect +quiet reigned within this flowery enclosure. She could study without +the constant interruptions which had annoyed her at home; and she was +wisely aided in her studies by masters whose low voices and gliding +steps seemed only to accentuate the peace of the wide schoolroom, with +its perfect appointments and its placid group of beautiful students. + +On Saturdays Brune generally spent several hours with her; and if the +weather were fine, they rode or walked in the Park. Brune was a +constant wonder to Aspatria. Certainly his handsome uniform had done +much for him, but there was a greater change than could be effected +by mere clothes. Without losing that freshness and singleness of mind +he owed to his country training, he had become a man of fashion, a +little of a dandy, a very innocent sort of a lady-killer. His arrival +caused always a faint flutter in Mrs. St. Alban's dove-cot, and the +noble damosels found many little womanly devices to excuse their +passing through the parlour while Brune was present. They liked to see +him bend his beautiful head to them; and Lady Mary Boleyn, who was +Aspatria's friend and companion, was mildly envied the privileges this +relation gave her. + +During the vacations Aspatria was always the guest of one or other of +her mates, though generally she spent them at the splendid seat of the +Boleyns in Hampshire, and the unconscious education thus received was +of the greatest value to her. It gave the ease of nature to acquired +accomplishments, and, above all, that air which we call distinction, +which is rarely natural, and is attained only by frequent association +with those who dwell on the highest social peaks. + +Much might be said of this phase of Aspatria's life which may be left +to the reader's imagination. For three years it saw only such changes +as advancing intelligence and growing friendships made. The real +change was in Aspatria personally. No one could have traced without +constant doubt the slim, virginal, unfinished-looking girl that left +Seat-Ambar, in the womanly perfection of Aspatria aged twenty-four +years. She had grown several inches taller; her angles had all +disappeared; every joint was softly rounded. Her hands and arms were +exquisite; her throat and the poise of her head like those of a Greek +goddess. Her hair was darker and more abundant, and her eyes retained +all their old charm, with some rarer and nobler addition. + +To be sure, she had not the perfect regularity of feature that +distinguished some of her associates, that exact beauty which Titian's +Venus possesses, and which makes no man's heart beat a throb the +faster. Her face had rather the mobile irregularity of Leonardo's Mona +Lisa, the charming face that men love passionately, the face that men +can die for. + +At the close of the third year she refused all invitations for the +summer holidays, and went back to Seat-Ambar. There had not been much +communication between Will and herself. He was occupied with his land +and his sheep, his wife and his two babies. People then took each +other's affection as a matter of course, without the daily assurance +of it. About twice a year Will had sent her a few strong words of +love, and a bare description of any change about the home, or else +Alice had covered a sheet with pretty nothings, written in the small, +pointed, flowing characters then fashionable. + +But the love of Aspatria for her home depended on no such trivial, +accidental tokens. It was in her blood; her personality was knotted to +Seat-Ambar by centuries of inherited affection; she could test it by +the fact that it would have killed her to see it pass into a +stranger's hands. When once she had turned her face northward, it +seemed impossible to travel quickly enough. Hundreds of miles away she +felt the cool wind blowing through the garden, and the scent of the +damask rose was on it. She heard the gurgling of the becks and the +wayside streams, and the whistling of the boys in the barn, and the +tinkling of the sheep-bells on the highest fells. The raspberries were +ripe in their sunny corner; she tasted them afar off. The dark oak +rooms, their perfume of ancient things, their air of homelike +comfort,--it was all so vivid, so present to her memory, that her +heart beat and thrilled, as the breast of a nursing mother thrills and +beats for her longing babe. + +She had told no one she was coming; for, the determination made, she +knew that she would reach home before the Dalton postman got the +letter to Seat-Ambar. The gig she had hired she left at the lower +garden gate; and then she walked quickly through the rose-alley up to +the front door. It stood open, and she heard a baby crying. How +strange the wailing notes sounded! She went forward, and opened the +parlour door; Alice was washing the child, and she turned with an +annoyed look to see the intruder. + +Of course the expression changed, but not quickly enough to prevent +Aspatria seeing that her visit was inopportune. Alice said afterward +that she did not recognize her sister-in-law, and, as Will met her +precisely as he would have met an entire stranger, Alice's excuse was +doubtless a valid one. There were abundant exclamations and rejoicings +when her identity was established, but Will could do nothing all the +evening but wonder over the changes that had taken place in his +sister. + +However, when the first joy of reunion is over, it is a prudent thing +not to try too far the welcome that is given to the home-comer who has +once left home. Will and Alice had grown to the idea that Aspatria +would never return to claim the room in Seat-Ambar which was hers +legally so long as she lived. It had been refurnished and was used as +a guest-room. Aspatria looked with dismay on the changes made. Her +very sampler had been sent away,--the bit of canvas made sacred by her +mother's fingers holding her own over it. She could remember the +instances connected with the formation of almost every letter of its +simple prayer,-- + + Jesus, permit thy gracious name to stand + As the first effort of my infant hand; + And, as my fingers on the sampler move, + Engage my tender heart to seek thy love. + With thy dear children may I have a part, + And write thy Name, thyself, upon my heart. + +And it was gone! She went into the lumber-room, and picked it out from +under a pile of old prints and shabbily framed certificates for prize +cattle. + +With a sad heart Aspatria regarded the other changes. Her little +tent-bed, with its white dimity curtains, had been given to baby's +nurse. The vase her father had bought her at Kendal fair was broken. +Her small mirror and dressing-table had been removed for a fine Psyche +in a gilded frame. Nothing, nothing was untouched, but the big +dower-chest into which she had flung her wretched wedding-clothes. She +stood silently before it, reflecting, with excusable ill-nature, that +neither Will nor Alice knew the secret of its spring. Her mother had +taught it to her, and that bit of knowledge she determined to keep to +herself. + +After some hesitation she tried the spring: it answered her pressure +at once; the lid flew back, and there lay the unhappy white satin +dress, the wreath, and veil, and slippers, just as she had tumbled +them in. The bitter hour came sharply back to her; she thought and +gazed, and thought and gazed, until she felt herself to be weeping. +Then she softly closed the lid, and, as she did so, a smile parted +her lips,--a smile that denied all that her tears said; a smile of +hope, of good presage, of coming happiness. + +She stayed only a week at Seat-Ambar, though she had originally +intended to remain until the harvest was over. The time was spent in +public festivity; every one in Allerdale was invited to give her a +fitting welcome. But the very formality of all this entertainment +pained her. It was, after all, only a cruel evidence that Will and +Alice did not care to take her into their real home-life. She would +rather have sat alone with them, and talked of their hopes and plans, +and been permitted to make friends of the babies. + +So far away, so far away as she had drifted in three years from the +absent living! Would the dead be kinder? She went to Aspatria Church +and sat down in her mother's seat, and let the strange spiritual +atmosphere which hovers in old churches fill her heart with its +supernatural influence. All around her were the graves of her +fore-elders, strong elemental men, simple God-loving women. Did they +know her? Did they care for her? Her soul looked with piteous entreaty +into the void behind it, but there was no answer; only that dreadful +silence of the dead, which presses upon the drum of the ear like +thunder. + +She went into the quiet yard around the church. The ancient, ancient +sun shone on the young grass. Over her mother's grave the sweet thyme +had grown luxuriantly. She rubbed her hands in it, and spread them +toward heaven with a prayer. Then peace came into her heart, and she +felt as if eyes, unseen heavenly eyes, rained happy influence upon +her. Thus it is that death imparts to life its most intense interest; +for, kneeling in his very presence, Aspatria forgot the mortality of +her parents, and did reverence to that within them which was eternal. + +She returned to London, and was a little disappointed there also. Mrs. +St. Alban had promised herself an absolute release from any outside +element. She felt Aspatria a trifle in the way, and, though far too +polite to show her annoyance, Aspatria by some similar instinct +divined it. That is the way always. When we plan for ourselves, all +our plans fail. Happy are they who learn early to let fate alone, and +never interfere with the Powers who hold the thread of their destiny! + +It was not until she had reached this mood, a kind of content +indifference, that her good genius could work for her. She then sent +Brune as her messenger, and Brune took his sister to meet her on +Richmond Hill. On their way thither they talked about Seat-Ambar, and +Will and Alice, until Aspatria suddenly noticed that Brune was not +listening to her. His eyes were fixed upon a lovely woman approaching +them. It was Sarah Sandys. Brune stood bareheaded to receive her +salutation. + +"I never should have known you, Lieutenant Anneys," she said, +extending her hand, and beaming like sunshine on the handsome officer, +"had not your colonel Jardine been in Richmond to-day. He is very +proud of you, sir, and said so many fine things of you that I am +ambitious to show him that we are old acquaintances. May I know, +through you, Mrs. Anneys also?" + +"This is my sister, Mrs. Sandys,--my sister--" Brune hesitated a +moment, and then said firmly, "Miss Anneys." + +Then Sarah insisted on taking them to her house to lunch; and there +she soon had them under her influence. She waited on them with +ravishing smiles and all sorts of pretty offices. She took them in her +handsome carriage to drive, she insisted on their remaining to dinner. +And before the drive was over, she had induced Aspatria to extend her +visit until the opening of Mrs. St. Alban's school. + +"We three are from the north country," she said, with an air of +relationship; "and how absurd for Miss Anneys to be alone at Mrs. St. +Alban's, where she is not wanted, and for me to be alone here, when I +desire her society so much!" + +Aspatria was much pleased to receive such a delightful invitation, and +a messenger was sent at once for her maid. Mrs. St. Alban was quite +ready to resign Aspatria, and the maid was as glad as her mistress to +leave the lonely mansion. In an hour or two she had removed Aspatria's +wardrobe, and was arranging the pleasant rooms Mrs. Sandys had placed +at her guest's disposal. + +Sarah was evidently bent on conquest. Her toilet was a marvellous +combination of some shining blue and white texture, mingled with pink +roses and gold ornaments. Her soft fair hair was loosened and curled, +and she had a childlike manner of being carelessly happy. Brune sat at +her right hand; she talked to him in smiles and glances, and gave her +words to Aspatria. She was determined to please both sister and +brother, and she succeeded. Aspatria thought she had never in all her +life seen a woman so lovable, so amusing, so individual. + +Brune was naturally shy and silent among women. Sarah made him +eloquent, because she had the tact to discover the subject on which +he could talk,--his regiment, and its sayings and doings. So Brune was +delighted with himself; he had never before suspected how clever he +was. Stimulated by Sarah's and Aspatria's laughter and curiosity, he +found it easy to retail funny little bits of palace and mess gossip, +and to describe the queer men and the vain men and the fine fellows +that were his familiars. + +"And pray how do you amuse yourself, Lieutenant? Do you drink wine, +and gamble, and go to the races, and bet your purse empty?" + +"I was never brought up in such ways," Brune answered, "and, I can +tell you, I wouldn't make believe to like them. There are a good many +dalesmen in my company, and none of us enjoy anything more than a fair +throw or an in-lock." + +"A throw or an in-lock! What do you mean, Lieutenant? You must explain +yourself to Miss Anneys and myself." + +"Aspatria knows well enough. Did you ever see north-country lads +wrestling, madam? No? Then you have as fine a thing in keeping for +your eyes as human creatures can show you. I'll warrant that! Why-a! +wrestling brings all men to their level. When Colonel Jardine is +ugly-tempered, and top-heavy with his authority, a few sound throws +over Timothy Sutcliffe's head does bring him to level very well. I had +a little in-play with him yesterday; for in the wrestling-ring we be +all equals, though out of it he is my colonel." + +"Now for the in-play. Tell me about it, for I see Miss Anneys is not +at all interested." + +"Colonel Jardine is a fine wrestler; a fair match he would be even for +brother Will. Yesterday he said he could throw me; and I took the +challenge willingly. So we shook hands, and went squarely for the +throw. I was in good luck, and soon got my head under his right arm, +and his head close down to my left side. Then it was only to get my +right arm up to his shoulder, and lift him as high as my head, and, +when so, lean backward and throw him over my head: we call it the +Flying Horse." + +"Oh, I can see it very well. No wonder Rosalind fell in love with +Orlando when he threw the wrestler Charles." + +"Were they north-country or Cornish men?" + +She was far too kindly and polite to smile; indeed, she gave Aspatria +a pretty, imperative glance, and answered, in the most natural manner, +"I think they were Italians." + +"Oh!" said Brune, with some contempt. "Chaff on their ways! The +Devonshire wrestlers are brutal; the Cornish are too slow; but the +Cumberland men wrestle like gentlemen. They meet square and level in +the ring, and the one who could carry ill-will for a fair throw would +very soon find himself out of all rings and all good fellowship." + +"You said 'even brother Will.' Is your brother a better wrestler than +you?" + +"My song! he is that! Will has his match, though. We had a ploughman +once,--Aspatria remembers him,--Robert Steadman, an upright, muscular +young fellow, civil and respectful as could be in everything about his +work and place; but on wet days when we were all, masters and +servants, in the barn together, it was a sight to see Robert wrestling +with Will for the mastery, and Will never so ready to say, 'Well +done!' nor the rest of us so happy, as when we saw Will's two brawny +legs going handsomely over Robert's head." + +"If I were a man, I should try to be a fine wrestler." + +"It is a great comfort," said Brune. "If you have a quarrel of any +kind, it is a deal more satisfactory to meet your man, and throw him a +few times over your head, than to go to law with him. It puts a stop +to unpleasantness very quickly and very good-naturedly." + +Then Sarah rose and opened the piano, and from its keys dashed out a +lilting, hurrying melody, like the galloping of horses and shaking of +bridles; and in a few moments she began to sing, and Brune went to +her side, and, because she looked so steadily into his eyes, he could +remember nothing at all of the song but its dashing refrain,-- + + "For he whom I wed + Must be north country bred, + And must carry me back to the North Countrie." + +Then Aspatria played some wonderful music on her harp, and Sarah and +Brune sat still and listened to their own hearts, and sent out shy +glances, and caught each other in the act, and Brune was made nervous, +and Sarah gay, by the circumstance. + +By and by they began to talk of schools, and of how much Aspatria had +learned; and so Brune regretted his own ignorance, and wished he had +been more attentive to his schoolmaster. + +Sarah laughed at the wish. "A knowledge of Shakspeare and the musical +glasses and the Della Cruscans," she said, "is for foolish, +sentimental women. You can wrestle, and you can fight, and I suppose +you can make money, and perhaps even make love. Is there anything else +a soldier needs?" + +"Colonel Jardine is very clever," continued Brune, regretfully; "and I +had a good schoolmaster--" + +"Nonsense, Lieutenant!" said Sarah. "None of them are good. They all +spoil your eyes, and seek to lay a curse on you; that is the confusion +of languages." + +"Still, I might have learned Latin." + +"It was the speech of pagans and infidels." + +"Or logic." + +"Logic hath nothing to say in a good cause." + +"Or philosophy." + +"Philosophy is curiosity. Socrates was very properly put to death for +it." + +They were all laughing together, when Sarah condemned Socrates, and +the evening passed like a happy dream away. + +It was succeeded by weeks of the same delight. Aspatria soon learned +to love Sarah. She had never before had a woman friend on whom she +could rely and to whom she could open her heart. Sarah induced her to +speak of Ulfar, to tell her all her suffering and her plans and hopes, +and she gave her in return a true affection and a most sincere +sympathy. Nothing of the past that referred to Ulfar was left untold; +and as the two women sat together during the long summer days, they +grew very near to each other, and there was but one mind and one +desire between them. + +So that when the time came for Aspatria to go back to Mrs. St. +Alban's, Sarah would not hear of their separation. "You have had +enough of book-learning," she said. "Remain with me. We will go to +Paris, to Rome, to Vienna. We will study through travel and society. +It is by rubbing yourself against all kinds of men and women that you +acquire the finest polish of life; and then when Ulfar comes back you +will be able to meet him upon all civilized grounds. And as for the +South Americans, we will buy all the books about them we can find. +Are they red or white or black, I wonder? Are they pagans or +Christians? I seem to remember that when I was at school I learned +that the Peruvians worshipped the sun." + +"I think, Sarah, that they are all descendants of Spaniards; so they +must be Roman Catholics. And I have read that their women are +beautiful and witty." + +"My dear Aspatria, nothing goes with Spaniards but gravity and green +olives." + +Aspatria was easily persuaded to accept Sarah's offer; she was indeed +very happy in the prospect before her. But Brune was miserable. He had +spent a rapturous summer, and it was to end without harvest, or the +promise thereof. He could not endure the prospect, and one night he +made a movement so decided that Sarah was compelled to set him back a +little. + +"Were you ever in love, Mrs. Sandys?" poor Brune asked, with his heart +filling his mouth. + +She looked thoughtfully at him a moment, and then slowly answered: "I +once felt myself in danger, and I fled to France. I consider it the +finest action of my life." + +Aspatria felt sorry for her brother, and she said warmly: "I think no +one falls in love now. Love is out of date." + +Sarah enjoyed her temper. "You are right, dear," she answered. +"Culture makes love a conscious operation. When women are all feeling, +they fall in love; when they have intellect and will, they attach +themselves only after a critical examination of the object." + +Later, when they were alone, Aspatria took her friend to task for her +cruelty: "You know Brune loves you, Sarah; and you do love him. Why +make him miserable? Has he presumed too far?" + +"No, indeed! He is as adoring and humble as one could wish a future +lord and master to be." + +"Well, then?" + +"I will give our love time to grow. When we come back, if Brune has +been true to me in every way, he may fall to blessing himself with +both hands;" and then she began to sing,-- + + "Betide, betide, whatever betide, + Love shall be Lord of Sandy-Side!" + +"Love is a burden two hearts carry very easily together, but, oh, +Sarah! I know how hard it is to bear it alone. Therefore I say, be +kind to Brune while you can." + +"My dear, your idea is a very pretty one. I read the other day a Hindu +version of it that smelled charmingly of the soil,-- + + 'A clapping is not made with one hand alone: + Your love, my beloved, must answer my own.'" + +But in spite of such reflections, Sarah's will and intellect were +predominant, and she left poor Brune with only such hope as he could +glean from the lingering pressure of her hand and the tears in her +eyes. Aspatria's pleading had done no good. Perhaps it had done harm; +for the very nature of love is that it should be spontaneous. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +"A ROSE OF A HUNDRED LEAVES." + + +One morning in spring Aspatria stood in a balcony overlooking the +principal thoroughfare of Rome,--the Rome of papal government, +mythical, mystical, mediaeval in its character. A procession of friars +had just passed; a handsome boy was crying violets; some musical +puppets were performing in the shadow of the opposite palace; a +party of brigands were going to the Angelo prison; the spirit of Caesar +was still abroad in the black-browed men and women, lounging and +laughing in their gaudy, picturesque costumes; and the spirit of +ecclesiasticism lifted itself above every earthly object, and +touched proudly the bells of a thousand churches. Aspatria was +weary of all. + +She had that morning an imperative nostalgia. She could see nothing +but the mountains of Cumberland, and the white sheep wandering about +their green sides. Through the church-bells she heard the sheep-bells. +Above the boy crying violets she heard the boy whistling in the +fresh-ploughed furrow. As for the violets, she knew how the wild ones +were blowing in Ambar wood, and how in the garden the daffodil-beds +were aglow, and the sweet thyme humbling itself at their feet, because +each bore a chalice. Oh for a breath from the mountains and the sea! +The hot Roman streets, with their ever-changing human elements of +sorrow and mirth, sin and prayer, riches and poverty, made her sad +and weary. + +Sarah came toward her with a letter in her hand. "Ria," she said, +"this is from Lady Redware. Your husband will be in England very +shortly." + +It was the first time Sarah had ever called Ulfar Aspatria's husband. +In conversation the two women had always spoken of him as "Ulfar." The +change was significant. It implied that Sarah thought the time had +come for Aspatria to act decisively. + +"I shall be delighted to go back to England. We have been twenty +months away, Sarah. I was just feeling as if it were twenty years." + +Sarah looked critically at the woman who was going to cast her last +die for love. She was so entirely different from the girl who had +first won that love, how was it possible for her to recapture the +same sweet, faithless emotion? She had a swift memory of the slim +girl in the plain black frock whom she had seen sitting under the +whin-bushes. And then she glanced at Aspatria standing under the +blue-and-red awning of the Roman palace. She was now twenty-six +years old, and in the very glory of her womanhood, tall, superbly +formed, graceful, calm, and benignant. Her face was luminous with +intellect and feeling, her manner that of a woman high-bred and +familiar with the world. Culture had done all for her that the +lapidary does for the diamond; travel and social advantages had +added to the gem a golden setting. She was so little like the +sorrowful child whom Ulfar had last seen in the vicar's meadow that +Sarah felt instantaneous recognition to be almost impossible. + +After some hesitation, Aspatria agreed to accept Sarah's plan and wait +in Richmond the development of events. At first she had been strongly +in favour of a return to Seat-Ambar. "If Ulfar really wants to see +me," she said, "he will be most likely to seek me there." + +"But then, Ria, he may think he does not want to see you. Men never +know what they really do want. You have to give them 'leadings.' If +Ulfar can look on you now and have no curiosity about your identity, I +should say the man was not worth a speculation from any point. See if +you have hold sufficient on his memory to pique his curiosity. If you +have, lead him wherever you wish." + +"But how? And where?" + +"Do I carry a divining-cup, Ria? Can I foresee the probabilities of a +man so impossible as Ulfar Fenwick? I only know that Richmond is a +good place to watch events from." + +And of course the Richmond house suited Brune. His love had grown to +the utmost of Sarah's expectations, and he was no longer to be put off +with smiles and pleasant words. Sarah had promised him an answer when +she returned, and he claimed it with a passionate persistence that had +finally something imperative in it. To this mood Sarah succumbed; +though she declared that Brune had chosen the morning of all others +most inconvenient for her. She was just leaving the house. She was +going to London about her jewels. Brune had arrested the coachman by a +peremptory movement, and he looked as if he were quite prepared to +lift Sarah out of the carriage. + +So Aspatria went alone. She was glad of the swift movement in the +fresh air, she was glad that she could be quiet and let it blow +passively upon her. The restlessness of watching had made her +feverish. She had the "strait" of a strong mind which longs to meet +her destiny. For her love for her husband had grown steadily with her +efforts to be worthy of that love, and she longed to meet him face to +face and try the power of her personality over him. The trial did not +frighten her; she felt within her the ability to accomplish it; her +feet were on a level with her task; she was the height of a woman +above it. + +Musing on this subject, letting her mind shoot to and fro like a +shuttle between the past and the present, she reached Piccadilly, and +entered a large jeweller's shop. The proprietor was talking to a +gentleman who was exhibiting a number of uncut gems. Aspatria knew him +instantly. It was Ulfar Fenwick,--the same Ulfar, older, and yet +distinctly handsomer. For the dark hair slightly whitened, and the +thin, worn cheeks, had an intensely human aspect. She saw that he had +suffered; that the sum of life was on his face,--toil, difficulty, +endurance, mind, and also that pathetic sadness which tells of +endurance without avail. + +She went to the extreme end of the counter, and began to examine the +jewels which Sarah had sent to be reset. Some were finished; others +were waiting for the selection of a particular style, and Aspatria +looked critically at the models shown her. The occupation gave her an +opportunity to calm and consider herself; she could look at the jewels +a few moments without expressing an opinion. + +Then she gave, in a clear, distinct voice, some order regarding a +pearl necklace; and Ulfar turned like a flash, and looked at the +woman who had spoken. She had the pearls in one hand; the other +touched a satin cushion on which lay many ornaments of diamonds, +sapphires, and rubies. The moonlight iridescence of the pearls, the +sparkling glory of the gems, seemed to be a part of her noble beauty. +He forgot his own treasures, and stood looking at the woman whose +voice had called to him out of the past, had penetrated his heart like +a bell struck sharply in its innermost room. Who was it? Where had +they met before? He knew the face. He knew, and yet he did not know, +the whole charming personality. As she turned, his eyes met her eyes, +and the pure pallor of her cheeks was flooded with crimson. + +She passed him within touch; the rustle of her garments, their faint +perfume, the simple sense of her nearness, thrilled his being +wondrously. And, above all, that sense of familiarity! What could it +mean? He gave the stones into the jeweller's care, and hurriedly +followed her steps. + +"That is Sarah Sandys's carriage, my barony for it!" he exclaimed; +"and the men are in the Sandys livery. Sarah, then, is in Richmond; +and the woman who rides in her carriage is very likely in her house; +but who can it be?" + +The face haunted him, the voice tormented him like a melody that we +continually try to catch. He endeavoured to place both as he rode out +to Richmond. More than once the thought of Aspatria came to him, but +he could not make any memory of her fit that splendid vision of the +woman with uplifted hand and the string of pearls dropping from it. +Her exquisite face, between the beauty of their reflection and the +flashing of the gems beneath, retained in his memory a kind of glory. +"Such loveliness is the proper setting for pearls and diamonds," he +said. "Many a beauty I have seen, but none that can touch the heel of +her shoe." + +For he really thought that it was her personal charms which had so +moved him. It was the sense of familiarity; it was in a far deeper +and dimmer way a presentiment of right, of possession, a feeling of +personal touch in the emotion, which perplexed and stimulated him as +the mere mystery and beauty of the flesh could never have done. + +As soon as he reached the top of Richmond Hill he saw Sarah. She was +sauntering along that loveliest of cliffs, with Brune. An orderly was +leading Brune's horse; he himself was in the first ecstasy of Sarah's +acknowledged love. Ulfar went into the Star and Garter Inn and watched +Sarah. He had no claim upon her, and yet he felt as if she had been +false to him. "And for a mere soldier!" Then he looked critically at +the soldier, and said, with some contempt: "I am sorry for him! Sarah +Sandys will have her pastime, and then say, 'Farewell, good sir!'" As +for the mere soldier being Brune Anneys, that was a thought out of +Ulfar's horizon. + +In a couple of hours he went to Sarah's. She met him with real +delight. + +"You are just five years lovelier, Sarah," he said. + +"Admiration from Sir Ulfar Fenwick is admiration indeed!" + +"Yes; I say you are beautiful, though I have just seen the most +bewitching woman that ever blessed my eyes,--in your carriage too." +And then, swift as light or thought, there flashed across his mind a +conviction that the Beauty and Aspatria were identical. It was a +momentary intelligence; he grasped it merely as a clew that might lead +him somewhere. + +"In my carriage? I dare say it was Ria. She went to Piccadilly this +morning about some jewels." + +"She reminded me of Aspatria." + +"Have you brought back with you that old trouble? I have no mind to +hear more of it." + +"Who is the lady I saw this morning?" + +"She is the sister of the man I am going to marry. In four months she +will be my sister." + +"What is her name?" + +"That is to tell you my secret, sir." + +"I saw you throwing your enchantments over some soldier. I knew just +how the poor fellow felt." + +"Then you also have been in Arcadia. Be thankful for your past +blessings. I do not expect you to rejoice with me; none of the +apostolic precepts are so hard as that which bids us rejoice with +those who do rejoice." + +"Neither Elizabeth nor you have ever named Aspatria in your letters." + +"Did you expect us to change guard over Ambar-Side? I dare say +Aspatria has grown into a buxom, rosy-cheeked woman and quite +forgotten you." + +"I must go and see her." + +"I think you ought. Also, you should give her her freedom. I consider +your behaviour a dog-in-the-manger atrocity." + +"Can you not pick nicer words, Sarah?" + +"I would not if I could." + +"Sarah, tell me truly, have I lost my good looks?" + +She regarded him attentively a moment, and answered: "Not quite. You +have some good points yet. You have grown thin and gray, and lost +something, and perhaps gained something; but you are not very old, and +then, you know, you have your title, and your castle, and your very +old, old family, and I suppose a good deal of money." In reality, she +was sure that he had never before been so attractive; for he had now +the magic of a countenance informed by intellect and experience, eyes +brimming with light, lips neither loose nor coarse, yet full of +passion and the faculty of enjoyment. + +He smiled grimly at Sarah's list of his charms, and said, "When will +you introduce me to your future sister?" + +"This evening. Come about nine. I have a few sober people who will be +delighted to hear your South American adventures. Ria goes to Lady +Chester's ball soon after nine. Do not miss your chance." + +"Could I see her now?" + +"You could not." + +"What for?" + +"Do you suppose she would leave a _modiste_ for--you?" + +"I wonder where Aspatria is!" + +"Go and find out." + +"Sarah, who is the young lady I saw in your carriage?" + +"She is the sister of the officer you saw me with, the man I am going +to marry." + +"Where did you meet him?" + +"At a friend's house." + +"Where did you meet her?" + +"Her brother brought her to my house. I asked her to stay with me, and +finally we went to Italy together." + +"She has a very aristocratic manner." + +"She ought to have. She was educated at Mrs. St. Alban's, and she +visits at the Earl of Arundel's, the Duke of Norfolk's, and the very +exclusive Boleyns',--Lady Mary Boleyn is her friend, and she has also +had the great advantage of my society for nearly two years." + +"Then of course she is not Aspatria, and my heart is a liar, and my +memory is a traitor, and my eyes do not see correctly. I will call +about nine. I am at the Star and Garter. If she should name me at +all--" + +"Do you imagine she noticed you? and in such a public place as +Howell's?" + +"I really do imagine she noticed me. Ask her." + +"I see you are in love again. After all that experience has done for +you! It is a Nemesis, Ulfar. I have often noticed that, however +faithless a man may be, there comes at last one woman who avenges all +the rest. Enter Nemesis at nine to-night!" + +"Sarah, you are an angel." + +"Thank you, Ulfar. I thought you classed me with the other side." + +"As for Aspatria--" + +"Life is too short to discuss Aspatria. I remember one day at Redware +being sharply requested to keep silence on that subject. The wheel of +retribution has made a perfect circle as regards Aspatria! I shall +certainly tell Ria that you have made her the heroine of your +disagreeable matrimonial romance." + +"No, no, Sarah! Do not say a word to her. I must wait until nine, I +suppose? And I am so anxious and so fearful, Sarah." + +"You must wait until nine. And as for the rest, I know very well that +in the present age a lover's cares and fears have + + Dwindled to the smallest span. + +Do go to your hotel, and get clothed and in your right mind. You are +most unbecomingly dressed. Good-by, old friend, good-by!" And she left +him with an elaborate courtesy. + +Ulfar was now in a vortex. Things went around and around in his +consciousness; and whenever he endeavoured to examine events with his +reason, then feeling advanced some unsupported conviction, and threw +him back into the same senseless whirl of emotion. + +He had failed to catch the point which would have given him the clew +to the whole mystery,--the identity of Brune with the splendidly +accoutred officer Sarah avowed to be her intended husband. Without +taking special note of him, Ulfar had seen certain signs of +birth, breeding, and assured position. In his mind there was a +great gulf between the haughty-looking soldier and the simple, +handsome, but rather boorish-looking young Squire of Ambar-Side. +The two individualities were as far apart in social claims as +the north and south poles are apart physically. + +And if this beautiful woman were indeed Aspatria, how could he +reconcile the fact with her education at St. Alban's, her friendship +with such exalted families, her relationship to an officer of evident +birth and position? When he thought thus, he acknowledged the +impossibility; but then no sooner had he acknowledged it than his +heart passionately denied the deduction, with the simple iteration, +"It is Aspatria! It is Aspatria!" + +Aspatria or not, he told himself that he was at last genuinely in +love. Every affair before was tame, pale, uninteresting. If it was not +Aspatria, then the first Aspatria was the shadow of the second and +real one; the preface to love's glorious tale; the prelude to his +song; the gray, sweet dawn to his perfect day. He could not eat, nor +sit still, nor think reasonably, nor yet stop thinking. The sun stood +still; the minutes were hours; at four o'clock he wished to fling the +timepiece out of the window. + +Aspatria had the immense strength of certainty. She knew. Also, she +had Sarah to advise with. Still better, she had the conviction that +Ulfar loved her. Perhaps Sarah had exaggerated Ulfar's desperate +condition; if so, she had done it consciously, for she knew that as +soon as a woman is sure of her power she puts on an authority which +commands it. She was now only afraid that Ulfar would not be kept in +suspense long enough, that Aspatria would forgive him too easily. + +"Do make yourself as puzzling as you can, for this one night, +Aspatria," she urged. "Try to outvie and outdo and even affront that +dove-like simplicity he used to adore in you, and into which you are +still apt to relapse. He told me once that you looked like a Quakeress +when he first saw you." + +"I was just home from Miss Gilpin's school in Kendal. It was a Quaker +school. I have always kept a black gown ready, like the one he saw me +first in." + +"No black gown to-night. I have a mind to stay here and see that you +turn the Quakeress into a princess." + +"I will do all you wish. To-night you shall have your way; but poor +Ulfar must have suffered, and--" + +"Poor Ulfar, indeed! Be merry; that is the best armour against love. +What ruins women? Revery and sentimentality. A woman who does not +laugh ought to be watched." + +But though she lectured and advised Aspatria as to the ways of men and +the ways of love, Sarah had not much faith in her own counsels. "No +one can draw out a programme for a woman's happiness," she mused; "she +will not keep to its lines. Now, I do wonder whether she will dress +gorgeously or not? What did Solomon in all his glory wear? If Aspatria +only knew how dress catches a man's eye, and then touches his vanity, +and then sets fire to his imagination, and finally, somehow, someway, +gets to his heart! If she only knew,-- + + 'All thoughts, all passions, all delights, + Whatever stirs this mortal frame, + Are but the ministers of Love, + And feed his sacred flame!'" + +A little before nine, Ulfar entered Sarah's drawing-room. It was +lighted with wax candles. It was sweet with fresh violets, and at the +farther end Aspatria stood by her harp. She was dressed for Lady +Chester's ball, and was waiting her chaperon; but there had been a +little rebellion against her leaving without giving her admirers one +song. Every person was suggesting his or her favourite; and she stood +smiling, uncertain, listening, watching, for one voice and face. + +Her dazzling bodice was clasped with emeralds; her draperies were of +damasked gauze, shot with gold and silver, and abloom with flowers. +Her fair neck sparkled with diamonds; and the long white fingers which +touched the strings so firmly glinted with flashing gems. The moment +Ulfar entered, she saw him. His eyes, full of fiery prescience, forced +her to meet their inquiry; and then it was that she sat down and +filled the room with tinkling notes, that made every one remember the +mountains, and the merry racing of the spring winds, and the trickling +of half-hidden fountains. + +Sarah advanced with him. She touched Aspatria slightly, and said: +"Hush! a moment. This is my friend Sir Ulfar Fenwick, Ria." + +Ria lifted her eyes sweetly to his eyes; she bowed with the grace and +benignity of a queen, and adroitly avoided speech by turning the +melody into song:-- + + "I never shall forget + The mountain maid that once I met + By the cold river's side. + I met her on the mountain-side; + She watched her herds unnoticed there: + 'Trim-bodiced maiden, hail!' I cried. + She answered, 'Whither, Wanderer? + For thou hast lost thy way.'" + +Every word went to Ulfar's heart, and amid all the soft cries of +delight he alone was silent. She was beaming with smiles; she was +radiant as a goddess; the light seemed to vanish from the room when +she went away. Her adieu was a general one, excepting to Ulfar. On +him she turned her bright eyes, and courtesied low with one upward +glance. It set his heart on fire. He knew that glance. They might say +this or that, they might lie to him neck-deep, he knew it was +Aspatria! He was cross with Sarah. He accused her of downright +deception. He told her frankly that he believed nothing about the +soldier and his sister. + +She bade him come in the morning and talk to Ria; and he asked +impetuously: "How soon? Twelve, I suppose? How am I to pass the time +until twelve to-morrow?" + +"Why this haste?" + +"Why this deception?" + +"After seven years' indifference, are you suddenly gone mad?" + +"I feel as if I was being very badly used." + +"How does the real Aspatria feel? Go at once to Ambar-Side." + +"The real Aspatria is here. I know it! I feel it!" + +"In a court of law, what evidence would feeling be?" + +"In a court of love--" + +"Try it." + +"I will, to-morrow, at ten o'clock." + +His impetuosity pleased her. She was disposed to leave him to Aspatria +now. And Aspatria was disposed on the following morning to make his +confession very easy to him. She dressed herself in the simple black +gown she had kept ready for this event. It had the short elbow +sleeves, and the ruffle round the open throat, and the daffodil +against her snowy breast, that distinguished the first costume he had +ever seen her in. She loosened her hair and let it fall in two long +braids behind her ears. She was, as far as dress could make her so, +the Aspatria who had held the light to welcome him to Ambar-Side that +stormy night ten years ago. + +He was standing in the middle of the room, restless and expectant, +when she opened the door. He called her by name, and went to meet her. +She trembled and was silent. + +"Aspatria, it is you! My Life! My Soul! It is you!" + +He took her hands; they were as cold as ice. He drew her close to his +side; he stooped to see her eyes; he whispered word upon word of +affection,--sweet-meaning nouns and adjectives that caught a real +physical heat from the impatient heart and tongue that forged and +uttered them. + +"Forgive me, my dearest! Forgive me fully! Forgive me at once and +altogether! Aspatria, I love you! I love none but you! I will adore +you all my life! Speak one word to me, one word, my love, one word: +say only 'Ulfar!'" + +She forgot in a moment all that she had suffered. She forgot all she +had promised Sarah, all her intents of coldness, all reproaches; she +forgot even to forgive him. She just put her arms around his neck and +kissed him. She blotted out the past forever in that one whispered +word, "Ulfar." + +And then he took her to his heart; he kissed her for very wonder; he +kissed her for very joy; but most of all he kissed her for fervent +love. Then once more life was an "Interlude in Heaven." Every hour +held some sweet surprise, some accidental joy. It was Brune, it was +Sarah, it was some eulogium of Ulfar in the great London weeklies. He +had fought in the good fight for freedom; he had done great deeds of +mercy as well as of valour; he had crossed primeval forests, and +brought back wonderful medicines, and dyes, and many new specimens for +the botanist and the naturalist. The papers were never weary in +praising his pluck, his bravery, his generosity, and his endurance; +the Geographical Society sent him its coveted blue ribbon. In his own +way Ulfar had made himself a fit mate for the new Aspatria. + +And she was a constant wonder to him. Nothing in all his strange +experience touched his heart like the thought of his simple, patient +wife, studying to please him, to be worthy of his love. Every day +revealed her in some new and charming light. She was one hundred +Aspatrias in a single, lovable, lovely woman. On what ever subject +Ulfar spoke, she understood, supplemented, sympathized with, or +assisted him. She could talk in French and Italian; she was not +ignorant of botany and natural science, and she was delighted to be +his pupil. + +In a single month they became all the world to each other; and then +they began to long for the lonely old castle fronting the wild North +Sea, to plan for its restoration, and for a sweet home-life, which +alone could satisfy the thirst of their hearts for each other's +presence. At the end of June they went northward. + +It was the month of the rose, and the hedges were pink, and the garden +was a garden of roses. There were banks of roses, mazes of roses, +walks and standards of roses, masses of glorious colour, and breezes +scented with roses. Butterflies were chasing one another among the +flowers; nightingales, languid with love, were singing softly above +them. And in the midst was a gray old castle, flying its old border +flags, and looking as happy as if it were at a festival. + +Aspatria was enraptured, spellbound with delight. With Ulfar she +wandered from one beauty to another, until they finally reached a +great standard of pale-pink roses. Their loveliness was beyond +compare; their scent went to the brain like some divine essence. It +was a glory,--a prayer,--a song of joy! Aspatria stood beside it, and +seemed to Ulfar but its mortal manifestation. She was clothed in a +gown of pale-pink brocade, with a little mantle of the same, trimmed +with white lace, and a bonnet of white lace and pink roses. She was a +perfect rose of womanhood. She was the glory of his life, his prayer, +his song of joy! + +"It is the loveliest place in the world!" he said, "and you! you are +the loveliest woman! My sweet Aspatria!" + +She smiled divinely. "And yet," she answered, "I remember, Ulfar, a +song of yours that said something very different. Listen:-- + + 'There is a rose of a hundred leaves, + _But the wild rose is the sweetest_!'" + +And as she sang the words, Ulfar had a vision of a young girl, fresh +and pure as a mountain bluebell, in her scrimp black frock. He saw the +wind blowing it tight over her virgin form; he saw her fair, childish, +troubled face as she kissed him farewell in the vicar's meadows; and +then he saw the glorious woman, nobly planned, perfect on every side, +that the child wife had grown to. + +So, when she ceased, he pulled the fairest rose on the tree; he took +from it every thorn, he put it in her breast, he kissed the rose, and +he kissed her rose-like face. Then he took up the song where she +dropped it; and hand in hand, keeping time to its melody, they crossed +the threshold of their blessed home. + + "The robin sang beneath the eaves: + 'There is a rose of a hundred leaves, + _But the wild rose is the sweetest_!' + + "The nightingale made answer clear: + '_O darling rose! more fair, more dear! + O rose of a hundred leaves_!'" + + +THE END. + + * * * * * + +Transcriber Notes + +Archaic spelling preserved, including pottle and alterative. + +Passages in italics indicated by _underscores_. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Rose of a Hundred Leaves, by +Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A ROSE OF A HUNDRED LEAVES *** + +***** This file should be named 33599.txt or 33599.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/5/9/33599/ + +Produced by Katherine Ward and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +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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