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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Love Me Little, Love Me Long, by Charles Reade
+
+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: Love Me Little, Love Me Long
+
+Author: Charles Reade
+
+
+Release Date: November, 2003 [Etext #4607]
+This file was first posted on February 18, 2002
+Last Updated: April 12, 2013
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOVE ME LITTLE, LOVE ME LONG ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by James Rusk
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LOVE ME LITTLE, LOVE ME LONG
+
+By Charles Reade
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+SHOULD these characters, imbedded in carpet incidents, interest the
+public at all, they will probably reappear in more potent scenes. This
+design, which I may never live to execute, is, I fear, the only excuse
+I can at present offer for some pages, forming the twelfth chapter of
+this volume.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+NEARLY a quarter of a century ago, Lucy Fountain, a young lady of
+beauty and distinction, was, by the death of her mother, her sole
+surviving parent, left in the hands of her two trustees, Edward
+Fountain, Esq., of Font Abbey, and Mr. Bazalgette, a merchant whose
+wife was Mrs. Fountain's half-sister.
+
+They agreed to lighten the burden by dividing it. She should spend
+half the year with each trustee in turn, until marriage should take
+her off their hands.
+
+Our mild tale begins in Mr. Bazalgette's own house, two years after
+the date of that arrangement.
+
+The chit-chat must be your main clue to the characters. In life it is
+the same. Men and women won't come to you ticketed, or explanation in
+hand.
+
+"Lucy, you are a great comfort in a house; it is so nice to have some
+one to pour out one's heart to; my husband is no use at all."
+
+"Aunt Bazalgette!"
+
+"In that way. You listen to my faded illusions, to the aspirations of
+a nature too finely organized, ah! to find its happiness in this
+rough, selfish world. When I open my bosom to him, what does he do?
+Guess now--whistles."
+
+"Then I call that rude."
+
+"So do I; and then he whistles more and more."
+
+"Yes; but, aunt, if any serious trouble or grief fell upon you, you
+would find Mr. Bazalgette a much greater comfort and a better stay
+than poor spiritless me."
+
+"Oh, if the house took fire and fell about our ears, he would come out
+of his shell, no doubt; or if the children all died one after another,
+poor dear little souls; but those great troubles only come in stories.
+Give me a friend that can sympathize with the real hourly
+mortifications of a too susceptible nature; sit on this ottoman, and
+let me go on. Where was I when Jones came and interrupted us? They
+always do just at the interesting point."
+
+Miss Fountain's face promptly wreathed itself into an expectant smile.
+She abandoned her hand and her ear, and leaned her graceful person
+toward her aunt, while that lady murmured to her in low and thrilling
+tones--his eyes, his long hair, his imaginative expressions, his
+romantic projects of frugal love; how her harsh papa had warned Adonis
+off the premises; how Adonis went without a word (as pale as death,
+love), and soon after, in his despair, flung himself--to an ugly
+heiress; and how this disappointment had darkened her whole life, and
+so on.
+
+Perhaps, if Adonis had stood before her now, rolling his eyes, and his
+phrases hot from the annuals, the flourishing matron might have sent
+him to the servants' hall with a wave of her white and jeweled hand.
+But the melody disarms this sort of brutal criticism--a woman's voice
+relating love's young dream; and then the picture--a matron still
+handsome pouring into a lovely virgin's ear the last thing she ought;
+the young beauty's eyes mimicking sympathy; the ripe beauty's soft,
+delicious accents--purr! purr! purr!
+
+Crash overhead! a window smashed aie! aie! clatter! clatter! screams
+of infantine rage and feminine remonstrance, feet pattering, and a
+general hullabaloo, cut the soft recital in two. The ladies clasped
+hands, like guilty things surprised.
+
+Lucy sprang to her feet; the oppressed one sank slowly and gracefully
+back, inch by inch, on the ottoman, with a sigh of ostentatious
+resignation, and gazed, martyr-like, on the chandelier.
+
+"Will you not go up to the nursery?" cried Lucy, in a flutter.
+
+"No, dear," replied the other, faintly, but as cool as a marble slab;
+"you go; cast some of your oil upon those ever-troubled waters and
+then come back and let us try once more."
+
+Miss Fountain heard but half this sentence; she was already gliding up
+the stairs. She opened the nursery door, and there stood in the middle
+of the room "Original Sin." Its name after the flesh was Master
+Reginald. It was half-past six, had been baptized in church, after
+which every child becomes, according to polemic divines of the day, "a
+little soul of Christian fire" until it goes to a public school. And
+there it straddled, two scarlet cheeks puffed out with rage, soft
+flaxen hair streaming, cerulean eyes glowing, the poker grasped in two
+chubby fists. It had poked a window in vague ire, and now threatened
+two females with extinction if they riled it any more.
+
+The two grown-up women were discovered, erect, but flat, in distant
+corners, avoiding the bayonet and trusting to their artillery.
+
+     "Wicked boy!"
+     "Naughty boy!" (grape.)
+     "Little ruffian!" etc.
+
+And hints as to the ultimate destination of so sanguinary a soul
+(round shot).
+
+"Ah! here's miss. Oh, miss, we are so glad you are come up; don't go
+anigh him, miss; he is a tiger."
+
+Miss Fountain smiled, and went gracefully on one knee beside him. This
+brought her angelic face level with the fallen cherub's. "What is the
+matter, dear?" asked she, in a tone of soft pity.
+
+The tiger was not prepared for this: he dropped his poker and flung
+his little arm round his cousin's neck.
+
+"I love YOU. Oh! oh! oh!"
+
+"Yes, dear; then tell me, now--what is the matter? What have you been
+doing?"
+
+"Noth--noth--nothing--it's th--them been na--a--agging me!"
+
+"Nagging you?" and she smiled at the word and a tiger's horror of it.
+
+"Who has been nagging you, love?"
+
+"Th--those--bit--bit--it." The word was unfortunately lost in a sob.
+It was followed by red faces and two simultaneous yells of
+remonstrance and objurgation.
+
+"I must ask you to be silent a minute," said Miss Fountain, quietly.
+"Reginald, what do you mean by--by--nagging?"
+
+Reginald explained. "By nagging he meant--why--nagging."
+
+"Well, then, what had they been doing to him?"
+
+No; poor Reginald was not analytical, dialectical and critical, like
+certain pedanticules who figure in story as children. He was a
+terrible infant, not a horrible one.
+
+"They won't fight and they won't make it up, and they keep nagging,"
+was all could be got out of him.
+
+"Come with me, dear," said Lucy, gravely.
+
+"Yes," assented the tiger, softly, and went out awestruck, holding her
+hand, and paddling three steps to each of her serpentine glides.
+
+Seated in her own room, tiger at knee, she tried topics of admonition.
+During these his eyes wandered about the room in search of matter more
+amusing, so she was obliged to bring up her reserve.
+
+"And no young lady will ever marry you."
+
+"I don't want them to, cousin; I wouldn't let them; you will marry me,
+because you promised."
+
+"Did I?"
+
+"Why, you know you did--upon your honor; and no lady or gentleman ever
+breaks their word when they say that; you told me so yourself," added
+he of the inconvenient memory.
+
+"Ah! but there is another rule that I forgot to tell you."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"That no lady ever marries a gentleman who has a violent temper."
+
+"Oh, don't they?"
+
+"No; they would be afraid. If you had a wife, and took up the poker,
+she would faint away, and die--perhaps!"
+
+"Oh, dear!"
+
+"I should."
+
+"But, cousin, you would not _want_ the poker taken to you; you
+never nag."
+
+"Perhaps that is because we are not married yet."
+
+"What, then, when we are, shall you turn like the others?"
+
+"Impossible to say."
+
+"Well, then" (after a moment's hesitation), "I'll marry you all the
+same."
+
+"No! you forget; I shall be afraid until your temper mends."
+
+"I'll mend it. It is mended now. See how good I am now," added he,
+with self-admiration and a shade of surprise.
+
+"I don't call this mending it, for I am not the one that offended you;
+mending it is promising me never, never to call naughty names again.
+How would you like to be called a dog?"
+
+"I'd kill 'em."
+
+"There, you see--then how can you expect poor nurse to like it?"
+
+"You don't understand, cousin--Tom said to George the groom that Mrs.
+Jones was an--old--stingy--b--"
+
+"I don't want to hear anything about Tom."
+
+"He is such a clever fellow, cousin. So I think, if Jones is an old
+one, those two that keep nagging me must be young ones. What do you
+think yourself?" asked Reginald, appealing suddenly to her candor.
+
+"And no doubt it was Tom that taught you this other vulgar word
+'nagging,'" was the evasive reply.
+
+"No, that was mamma."
+
+Lucy colored, wheeled quickly, and demanded severely of the terrible
+infant: "Who is this Tom?"
+
+"What! don't you know Tom?" Reginald began to lose a grain of his
+respect for her. "Why, he helps in the stables; oh, cousin, he is such
+a nice fellow!"
+
+"Reginald, I shall never marry you if you keep company with grooms,
+and speak their language."
+
+"Well!" sighed the victim, "I'll give up Tom sooner than you."
+
+"Thank you, dear; now I _am_ flattered. One struggle more; we
+must go together and ask the nurses' pardon."
+
+"Must we? ugh!"
+
+"Yes--and kiss them--and make it up."
+
+Reginald made a wry face; but, after a pause of solemn reflection, he
+consented, on condition that Lucy would keep near him, and kiss him
+directly afterward.
+
+"I shall be sure to do that, because you will be a good boy then."
+
+Outside the door Reginald paused: "I have a favor to ask you,
+cousin--a great favor. You see I am so very little, and you are so
+big; now the husband ought to be the biggest."
+
+"Quite my own opinion, Reggy."
+
+"Well, dear, now if you would be so kind as not to grow any older till
+I catch you up, I shall be so very, very, very much obliged to you,
+dear."
+
+"I will try, Reggy. Nineteen is a very good age. I will stay there as
+long as my friends will let me."
+
+"Thank you, cousin."
+
+"But that is not what we have in hand."
+
+The nurses were just agreeing what a shame it was of miss to take that
+little vagabond's part against them, when she opened the door. "Nurse,
+here is a penitent--a young gentleman who is never going to use rude
+words, or be violent and naughty again."
+
+"La! miss, why, it is witchcraft--the dear child--soon up and soon
+down, as a boy should."
+
+"Beg par'n, nurse--beg par'n, Kitty," recited the dear child, late
+tiger, and kissed them both hastily; and, this double formula gone
+through, ran to Miss Fountain and kissed her with warmth, while the
+nurses were reciting "little angel," "all heart," etc.
+
+"To take the taste out of my mouth," explained the penitent, and was
+left with his propitiated females; and didn't they nag him at short
+intervals until sunset! But, strong in the contemplation of his future
+union with Cousin Lucy, this great heart in a little body despised the
+pins and needles that had goaded him to fury before.
+
+Lucy went down to the drawing-room. She found Mrs. Bazalgette leaning
+with one elbow on the table, her hand shading her high, polished
+forehead; her grave face reflecting great mental power taxed to the
+uttermost. So Newton looked, solving Nature.
+
+Miss Fountain came in full of the nursery business, but, catching
+sight of so much mind in labor, approached it with silent curiosity.
+
+The oracle looked up with an absorbed air, and delivered itself very
+slowly, with eye turned inward.
+
+"I am afraid--I don't think--I quite like my new dress."
+
+"That _is_ unfortunate."
+
+"That would not matter; I never like anything till I have altered it;
+but here is Baldwin has just sent me word that her mother is dying,
+and she can't undertake any work for a week. Provoking! could not the
+woman die just as well after the ball?"
+
+"Oh, aunt!"
+
+"And my maid has no more taste than an owl. What on earth am I to do?"
+
+"Wear another dress."
+
+"What other can I?"
+
+"Nothing can be prettier than your white mousseline de soie with the
+tartan trimming."
+
+"No, I have worn that at four balls already; I won't be known by my
+colors, like a bird. I have made up my mind to wear the jaune, and I
+will, in spite of them all; that is, if I can find anybody who cares
+enough for me to try it on, and tell me what it wants." Lucy offered
+at once to go with her to her room and try it on.
+
+"No--no--it is so cold there; we will do it here by the fire. You will
+find it in the large wardrobe, dear. Mind how you carry it. Lucy! lots
+of pins."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette then rang the bell, and told the servant to say she
+was out if anyone called, no matter who.
+
+Meantime Lucy, impressed with the gravity of her office, took the
+dress carefully down from the pegs; and as it would have been death to
+crease it, and destruction to let its hem sweep against any of the
+inferior forms of matter, she came down the stairs and into the room
+holding this female weapon of destruction as high above her head as
+Judith waves the sword of Holofernes in Etty's immortal picture.
+
+The other had just found time to loosen her dress and lock one of the
+doors. She now locked the other, and the rites began. Well!!??
+
+"It fits you like a glove."
+
+"Really? tell the truth now; it is a sin to tell a story--about a new
+gown. What a nuisance one can't see behind one!"
+
+"I could fetch another glass, but you may trust my word, aunt. This
+point behind is very becoming; it gives distinction to the waist."
+
+"Yes, Baldwin cuts these bodies better than Olivier; but the worst of
+her is, when it comes to the trimming you have to think for yourself.
+The woman has no mind; she is a pair of hands, and there is an end of
+her."
+
+"I must confess it is a little plain, for one thing," said Lucy.
+
+"Why, you little goose, you don't think I am going to wear it like
+this. No. I thought of having down a wreath and bouquet from Foster's
+of violets and heart's-ease--the bosom and sleeves covered with blond,
+you know, and caught up here and there with a small bunch of the
+flowers. Then, in the center heart's-ease of the bosom, I meant to
+have had two of my largest diamonds set--hush!"
+
+The door-handle worked viciously; then came rap! rap! rap! rap!
+
+"Tic--tic--tic; this is always the way. Who is there? Go away; you
+can't come here."
+
+"But I want to speak to you. What the deuce are you doing?" said
+through the keyhole the wretch that owned the room in a mere legal
+sense.
+
+"We are trying a dress. Come again in an hour."
+
+"Confound your dresses! Who is we?"
+
+"Lucy has got a new dress."
+
+"Aunt!" whispered Lucy, in a tone of piteous expostulation.
+
+"Oh, if it is Lucy. Well, good-by, ladies. I am obliged to go to
+London at a moment's notice for a couple of days. You will have done
+by when I come back, perhaps," and off went Bazalgette whistling, but
+not best pleased. He had told his wife more than once that the
+drawing-rooms and dining-rooms of a house are the public rooms, and
+the bedrooms the private ones.
+
+Lucy colored with mortification. It was death to her to annoy anyone;
+so her aunt had thrust her into a cruel position.
+
+"Poor Mr. Bazalgette!" sighed she.
+
+"Fiddle de dee. Let him go, and come back in a better temper--set
+transparent; so then, backed by the violet, you know, they will
+imitate dewdrops to the life."
+
+"Charming! Why not let Olivier do it for you, as poor Baldwin cannot?"
+
+"Because Olivier works for the Claytons, and we should have that Emily
+Clayton out as my double; and as we visit the same houses--"
+
+"And as she is extremely pretty--aunt, what a generalissima you are!"
+
+"Pretty! Snub-nosed little toad. No, she is not pretty. But she is
+eighteen; so I can't afford to dress her. No. I see I shall have to
+moderate my views for this gown, and buy another dress for the flowers
+and diamonds. There, take it off, and let us think it calmly over. I
+never act in a hurry but I am sorry for it afterward--I mean in things
+of real importance." The gown was taken off in silence, broken only by
+occasional sighs from the sufferer, in whose heart a dozen projects
+battled fiercely for the mastery, and worried and sore perplexed her,
+and rent her inmost soul fiercely divers ways.
+
+"Black lace, dear," suggested Lucy, soothingly.
+
+Mrs. B. curled her arm lovingly round Lucy's waist. "Just what I was
+beginning to think," said she, warmly. "And we can't both be mistaken,
+can we? But where can I get enough?" and her countenance, that the
+cheering coincidence had rendered seraphic, was once more clouded with
+doubt.
+
+"Why, you have yards of it."
+
+"Yes, but mine is all made up in some form or other, and it musses
+one's things so to pick them to pieces."
+
+"So it does, dear," replied Lucy, with gentle but genuine feeling.
+
+"It would only be for one night, Lucy--I should not hurt it, love--you
+would not like to fetch down your Brussels point scarf, and see how it
+would look, would you? We need not cut the lace, dear; we could tack
+it on again the next morning; you are not so particular as I am--you
+look well in anything."
+
+Lucy was soon seated denuding herself and embellishing her aunt. The
+latter reclined with grace, and furthered the work by smile and
+gesture.
+
+"You don't ask me about the skirmish in the nursery."
+
+"Their squabbles bore me, dear; but you can tell me who was the most
+in fault, if you think it worth while."
+
+"Reginald, then, I am afraid; but it is not the poor boy; it is the
+influence of the stable-yard; and I do advise and entreat you to keep
+him out of it."
+
+"Impossible, my dear; you don't know boys. The stable is their
+paradise. When he grows older his father must interfere; meantime, let
+us talk of something more agreeable."
+
+"Yes; you shall go on with your story. You had got to his look of
+despair when your papa came in that morning."
+
+"Oh, I have no time for anybody's despair just now; I can think of
+nothing but this detestable gown. Lucy, I suspect I almost wish I had
+made them put another breadth into the skirt."
+
+"Luncheon, ma'am."
+
+Lucy begged her aunt to go down alone; she would stay and work.
+
+"No, you must come to luncheon; there is a dish on purpose for
+you--stewed eels."
+
+"Eels; why, I abhor them; I think they are water-serpents."
+
+"Who is it that is so fond of them, then?"
+
+"It is you, aunt."
+
+"So it is. I thought it had been you. Come, you must come down,
+whether you eat anything or not. I like somebody to talk to me while I
+am eating, and I had an idea just now--it is gone--but perhaps it will
+come back to me: it was about this abominable gown. O! how I wish
+there was not such a thing as dress in the world!!!"
+
+While Mrs. Bazalgette was munching water-snakes with delicate zeal,
+and Lucy nibbling cake, came a letter. Mrs. Bazalgette read it with
+heightening color, laid it down, cast a pitying glance on Lucy, and
+said, with a sigh, "Poor girl!"
+
+Lucy turned a little pale. "Has anything happened?" she faltered.
+
+"Something is going to happen; you are to be torn away from here,
+where you are so happy--where we all love you, dear. It is from that
+selfish old bachelor. Listen: 'Dear madam, my niece Lucy has been due
+here three days. I have waited to see whether you would part with her
+without being dunned. My curiosity on that point is satisfied, and I
+have now only my affection to consult, which I do by requesting you to
+put her and her maid into a carriage that will be waiting for her at
+your door twenty-four hours after you receive this note. I have the
+honor to be, madam,' an old brute!!"
+
+"And you can smile; but that is you all over; you don't care a straw
+whether you are happy or miserable."
+
+"Don't I?"
+
+"Not you; you will leave this, where you are a little queen, and go
+and bury yourself three months with that old bachelor, and nobody will
+ever gather from your face that you are bored to death; and here we
+are asked to the Cavendishes' next Wednesday, and the Hunts' ball on
+Friday--you are such a lucky girl--our best invitations always drop in
+while you are with us--we go out three times as often during your
+months as at other times; it is your good fortune, or the weather, or
+something."
+
+"Dear aunt, this was your own arrangement with Uncle Fountain. I used
+to be six months with each in turn till you insisted on its being
+three. You make me almost laugh, both you and Uncle Fountain; what
+_do_ you see in me worth quarreling for?"
+
+"I will tell you what _he_ sees--a good little spiritless
+thing--"
+
+"I am larger than you, dear."
+
+"Yes, in body--that he can make a slave of--always ready to nurse him
+and his foe, or to put down your work and to take up his--to play at
+his vile backgammon."
+
+"Piquet, please."
+
+"Where is the difference?--to share his desolation, and take half his
+blue devils on your own shoulders, till he will hyp you so that to get
+away you will consent to marry into his set--the county set--some
+beggarly old family that came down from the Conquest, and has been
+going down ever since; so then he will let you fly--with a string: you
+must vegetate two miles from him; so then he can have you in to
+Backquette and write his letters: he will settle four hundred a year
+on you, and you will be miserable for life."
+
+"Poor Uncle Fountain, what a schemer he turns out!"
+
+"Men all turn out schemers when you know them, Miss Impertinence.
+Well, dear, I have no selfish views for you. I love my few friends too
+single-heartedly for that; but I _am_ sad when I see you leaving
+us to go where you are not prized."
+
+"Indeed, aunt, I am prized at Font Abbey. I am overrated there as I am
+here. They all receive me with open arms."
+
+"So is a hare when it comes into a trap," said Mrs. Bazalgette,
+sharply, drawing upon a limited knowledge of grammar and field-sports.
+
+"No--Uncle Fountain really loves me."
+
+"As much as I do?" asked the lady, with a treacherous smile.
+
+"Very nearly," was the young courtier's reply. She went on to console
+her aunt's unselfish solicitude, by assuring her that Font Abbey was
+not a solitude; that dinners and balls abounded, and her uncle was
+invited to them all.
+
+"You little goose, don't you see? all those invitations are for your
+sake, not his. If we could look in on him now we should find him
+literally in single cursedness. Those county folks are not without
+cunning. They say beauty has come to stay with the beast; we must ask
+the beast to dinner, so then beauty will come along with him.
+
+"What other pleasure awaits you at Font Abbey?"
+
+"The pleasure of giving pleasure," replied Lucy, apologetically.
+
+"Ah! that is your weakness, Lucy. It is all very well with those who
+won't take advantage; but it is the wrong game to play with all the
+world. You will be made a tool of, and a slave of, and use of. I speak
+from experience. You know how I sacrifice myself to those I love;
+luckily, they are not many."
+
+"Not so many as love you, dear."
+
+"Heaven forbid! but you are at the head of them all, and I am going to
+prove it--by deeds, not words."
+
+Lucy looked up at this additional feature in her aunt's affection.
+
+"You must go to the great bear's den for three months, but it shall be
+the last time!" Lucy said nothing.
+
+"You will return never to quit us, or, at all events, not the
+neighborhood."
+
+"That--would be nice," said the courtier warmly, but hesitatingly;
+"but how will you gain uncle's consent?"
+
+"By dispensing with it."
+
+"Yes; but the means, aunt?"
+
+"A husband!"
+
+Lucy started and colored all over, and looked askant at her aunt with
+opening eyes, like a thoroughbred filly just going to start all across
+the road. Mrs. Bazalgette laid a loving hand on her shoulder, and
+whispered knowingly in her ear: "Trust to me; I'll have one ready for
+you against you come back this time."
+
+"No, please don't! pray don't!" cried Lucy, clasping her hands in
+feeble-minded distress.
+
+"In this neighborhood--one of the right sort."
+
+"I am so happy as I am."
+
+"You will be happier when you are quite a slave, and so I shall save
+you from being snapped up by some country wiseacre, and marry you into
+our own set."
+
+"Merchant princes," suggested Lucy, demurely, having just recovered
+her breath and what little sauce there was in her.
+
+"Yes, merchant princes--the men of the age--the men who could buy all
+the acres in the country without feeling it--the men who make this
+little island great, and a woman happy, by letting her have everything
+her heart can desire."
+
+"You mean everything that money can buy."
+
+"Of course. I said so, didn't I?"
+
+"So, then, you are tired of me in the house?" remonstrated Lucy,
+sadly.
+
+"No, ingrate; but you will be sure to marry soon or late."
+
+"No, I will not, if I can possibly help it."
+
+"But you can't help it; you are not the character to help it. The
+first man that comes to you and says: 'I know you rather dislike me'
+(you could not hate anybody, Lucy,) 'but if you don't take me I shall
+die of a broken fiddlestick,' you will whine out, 'Oh, dear! shall
+you? Well, then, sooner than disoblige you, here--take me!'"
+
+"Am I so weak as this?" asked Lucy, coloring, and the water coming
+into her eyes.
+
+"Don't be offended," said the other, coolly; "we won't call it
+weakness, but excess of complaisance; you can't say no to anybody."
+
+"Yet I have said it," replied Lucy, thoughtfully.
+
+"Have you? When? Oh, to me. Yes; where I am concerned you have
+sometimes a will of your own, and a pretty stout one; but never with
+anybody else."
+
+The aunt then inquired of the niece, "frankly, now, between
+ourselves," whether she had no wish to be married. The niece informed
+her in confidence that she had not, and was puzzled to conceive how
+the bare idea of marriage came to be so tempting to her sex. Of
+course, she could understand a lady wishing to marry, if she loved a
+gentleman who was determined to be unhappy without her; but that women
+should look about for some hunter to catch instead of waiting quietly
+till the hunter caught them, this puzzled her; and as for the
+superstitious love of females for the marriage rite in cases when it
+took away their liberty and gave them nothing amiable in return, it
+amazed her. "So, aunt," she concluded, "if you really love me, driving
+me to the altar will be an unfortunate way of showing it."
+
+While listening to this tirade, which the young lady delivered with
+great serenity, and concluded with a little yawn, Mrs. Bazalgette had
+two thoughts. The first was: "This girl is not flesh and blood; she is
+made of curds and whey, or something else;" the second was: "No, she
+is a shade hypocriticaler than other girls--before they are married,
+that is all;" and, acting on this latter conviction, she smiled a
+lofty incredulity, and fell to counting on her fingers all the moneyed
+bachelors for miles.
+
+At this Lucy winced with sensitive modesty, and for once a shade of
+vexation showed itself on her lovely features. The quick-sighted,
+keen-witted matron caught it, and instantly made a masterly move of
+feigned retreat. "No," cried she, "I will not tease you anymore, love;
+just promise me not to receive any gentleman's addresses at Font
+Abbey, and I will never drive you from my arms to the altar."
+
+"I promise that," cried Lucy, eagerly.
+
+"Upon your honor?"
+
+"Upon my honor."
+
+"Kiss me, dear. I know you won't deceive me now you have pledged your
+honor. This solemn promise consoles me more than you can conceive."
+
+"I am so glad; but if you knew how little it costs me."
+
+"All the better; you will be more likely to keep it," was the dry
+reply.
+
+The conversation then took a more tender turn. "And so to-morrow you
+go! How dull the house will be without you! and who is to keep my
+brats in order now I have no idea. Well, there is nothing but meeting
+and parting in this world; it does not do to love people, does it?
+(ah!) Don't cry, love, or I shall give way; my desolate heart already
+brims over--no--now don't cry" (a little sharply); "the servants will
+be coming in to take away the things."
+
+"Will you c--c--come and h--help me pack, dear?"
+
+"Me, love? oh no! I could not bear the sight of your things put out to
+go away. I promised to call on Mrs. Hunt this afternoon; and you must
+not stop in all day yourself--I cannot let your health be sacrificed;
+you had better take a brisk walk, and pack afterward."
+
+"Thank you, aunt. I will go and finish my drawing of Harrowden Church
+to take with me."
+
+"No, don't go there; the meadows are wet. Walk upon the Hatton road;
+it is all gravel."
+
+"Yes; only it is so ugly, and I have nothing to do that way."
+
+"But I'll give you something to do," said Mrs. Bazalgette, obligingly.
+"You know where old Sarah and her daughter live--the last cottages on
+that road; I don't like the shape of the last two collars they made
+me; you can take them back, if you like, and lend them one of yours I
+admire so for a pattern."
+
+"That I will, with pleasure."
+
+"Shall you come back through the garden? If you don't--never mind;
+but, if you do, you may choose me a bouquet. The servants are
+incapable of a bouquet."
+
+"I will; thank you, dear. How kind and thoughtful of you to give me
+something to occupy me now that I am a little sad." Mrs. Bazalgette
+accepted this tribute with a benignant smile, and the ladies parted.
+
+
+The next morning a traveling-carriage, with four smoking post-horses,
+came wheeling round the gravel to the front door. Uncle Fountain's
+factotum got down from the dicky, packed Lucy's imperial on the roof,
+and slung a box below the dicky; stowed her maid away aft, arranged
+the foot-cushion and a shawl or two inside, and, half obsequiously,
+half bumptiously, awaited the descent of his fair charge.
+
+Then, upstairs, came a sudden simultaneous attack of ardent lips, and
+a long, clinging embrace that would have graced the most glorious,
+passionate, antique love. Sculpture outdone, the young lady went down,
+and was handed into the carriage. Her ardent aunt followed presently,
+and fired many glowing phrases in at the window; and, just as the
+carriage moved, she uttered a single word quite quietly, as much as to
+say, Now, this I mean. This genuine word, the last Aunt Bazalgette
+spoke, had been, two hundred years before, the last word of Charles
+the First. Note the coincidences of history.
+
+The two postboys lifted their whips level to their eyes by one
+instinct, the horses tightened the traces, the wheels ground the
+gravel, and Lucy was whirled away with that quiet, emphatic post-dict
+ringing in her ears,
+
+Remember!
+
+
+Font Hill was sixty miles off: they reached it in less than six hours.
+There was Uncle Fountain on the hall steps to receive her, and the
+comely housekeeper, Mrs. Brown, ducking and smiling in the background.
+While the servants were unpacking the carriage, Mr. Fountain took Lucy
+to her bedroom. Mrs. Brown had gone on before to see for the third
+time whether all was comfortable. There was a huge fire, all red; and
+on the table a gigantic nosegay of spring flowers, with smell to them
+all.
+
+"Oh how nice, after a journey!" said Lucy, mowing down Uncle Fountain
+and Mrs. Brown with one comprehensive smile.
+
+Mrs. Brown flamed with complacency.
+
+"What!" cried her uncle; "I suppose you expected a black fire and
+impertinent apologies by way of substitute for warmth; a stuffy room,
+and damp sheets, roasted, like a woodcock, twenty minutes before use."
+
+"No, uncle, dear, I expected every comfort at Font Abbey." Brown
+retired with a courtesy.
+
+"Aha! What! you have found out that it is all humbug about old
+bachelors not knowing comfort? Do bachelors ever put their friends
+into damp sheets? No; that is the women's trick with their household
+science. Your sex have killed more men with damp sheets than ever fell
+by the sword."
+
+"Yet nobody erects monuments to us," put in Lucy, slyly.
+
+She missed fire. Uncle Fountain, like most Englishmen, could take in a
+pun by the ear, but wit only by the eye. "Do you remember when Mrs.
+Bazalgette put you into the linen sponge, and killed you?"
+
+"Killed me?"
+
+"Certainly, as far as in her lay. We can but do our best; well, she
+did hers, and went the right way to work."
+
+"You see I survive."
+
+"By a miracle. Dinner is at six."
+
+"Very well, dear."
+
+"Yes; but six in this house means sixty minutes after five and sixty
+minutes before seven. I mention this the first day because you are
+just come from a place where it means twenty minutes to seven; also
+let me observe that I think I have noticed soup and potatoes eat
+better hot than cold, and meat tastes nicer done to a turn than--"
+
+"To a cinder?"
+
+"Ha! ha! and come with an appetite, please."
+
+"Uncle, no tyranny, I beg."
+
+"Tyranny? you know this is Liberty Hall; only when I eat I expect my
+companion to-eat too; besides, there is nothing to be gained by humbug
+to-day. There will be only us two at dinner; and when I see young
+ladies fiddling with an asparagus head instead of eating their dinner,
+it don't fall into the greenhorn's notion--exquisite creature! all
+soul! no stomach! feeds on air, ideas, and quadrille music--no; what
+do you think I say?"
+
+"Something flattering, I feel sure."
+
+"On the contrary, something true. I say hypocrite! Been grubbing like
+a pig all day, so can't eat like a Christian at meal time; you can't
+humbug me."
+
+"Alas! so I see. That decides me to be candid--and hungry."
+
+"Well, I am off; I don't stick to my friends and bore them with my
+affairs like that egotistical hussy, Jane Bazalgette. I amuse myself,
+and leave them to amuse themselves; that is my notion of politeness. I
+am going to see my pigs fed, then into the village. I am building a
+new blacksmith's shop there (you must come and look at it the first
+thing to-morrow); and at six, if you want to find me--"
+
+"I shall peep behind the soup-tureen."
+
+"And there I shall be, if I am alive." At dinner the old boy threw
+himself into the work with such zeal that soon after the cloth was
+removed, from fatigue and repletion, he dropped asleep, with his
+shoulder toward Lucy, but his face instinctively turned toward the
+fire. Lucy crept away on tiptoe, not to disturb him.
+
+In about an hour he bustled into the drawing-room, ordered tea, blew
+up the footman because the cook had not water boiling that moment,
+drank three cups, then brightened up, rubbed his hands, and with a
+cheerful, benevolent manner, "Now, Lucy," cried he, "come and help me
+puzzle out this tiresome genealogy."
+
+A smile of warm assent from Lucy, and the old bachelor and the
+blooming Hebe were soon seated with a mountain of parchments by their
+side, and a tree spreading before them.
+
+It was not a finite tree like an elm or an oak; no, it was a banyan
+tree; covered an acre, and from its boughs little suckers dropped to
+earth, and turned to little trees, and had suckers in their turn, and
+"confounded the confusion."
+
+Uncle Fountain's happiness depended, _pro tem,_ on proving that
+he was a sucker from the great bough of the Fontaines of Melton; and
+why? Because, this effected, he had only to go along that bough by an
+established pedigree to the great trunk of the Funteyns of Salle, and
+the first Funteyn of Salle was said to be (and this he hoped to prove
+true) great-grandson of Robert de Fontibus, son of John de Fonte.
+
+Now Uncle Fountain could prove himself the shoot of George his father
+(a step at which so many pedigrees halt), who was the shoot of
+William, who was the shoot of Richard; but here came a gap of eighty
+years between him and that Fountain, younger son of Melton, to whom he
+wanted to hook on. Now the logic of women, children, and criticasters
+is a thing of gaps; they reason as marches a kangaroo; but to
+mathematicians, logicians, and genealogists, a link wanting is a chain
+broken. This blank then made Uncle Fountain miserable, and he cried
+out for help. Lucy came with her young eyes, her woman's patience, and
+her own complaisance. A great ditch yawned between a crocheteer and a
+rotten branch he coveted. Our Quinta Curtia flung herself, her
+eyesight, and her time into that ditch.
+
+Twelve o'clock came, and found them still wallowing in modern
+antiquity.
+
+"Bless me!" cried Mr. Fountain when John brought up the bed-candles,
+"how time flies when one is really employed."
+
+"Yes, indeed, uncle;" and by a gymnastic of courtesy she first crushed
+and then so molded a yawn that it glided into society a smile.
+
+"We have spent a delightful evening, Lucy."
+
+"Thanks to you, uncle."
+
+"I hope you will sleep well, child."
+
+"I am sure I shall, dear," said she, sweetly and inadvertently.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+A LARGE aspiration is a rarity; but who has not some small ambition,
+none the less keen for being narrow--keener, perhaps? Mrs. Bazalgette
+burned to be great by dress; Mr. Fountain, member of a sex with higher
+aims, aspired to be great in the county.
+
+Unluckily, his main property was in the funds. He had acres
+in ----shire; but so few that, some years ago, its lord lieutenant
+declined to make him an injustice of the peace. That functionary died,
+and on his death the mortified aspirant bought a coppice, christened
+it Springwood, and under cover of this fringe to his three meadows,
+applied to the new lord lieutenant as M'Duff approached M'Beth. The
+new man made him a magistrate; so now he aspired to be a deputy
+lieutenant, and attended all the boards of magistrates, and turnpike
+trusts, etc., and brought up votes and beer-barrels at each election,
+and, in, short, played all the cards in his pack, Lucy included, to
+earn that distinction.
+
+We may as well confess that there lurked in him a half-unconscious
+hope that some day or other, in some strange collision or combination
+of parties, a man profound in county business, zealous in county
+interests, personally obnoxious to nobody, might drop into the seat of
+county member; and, if this should be, would not he have the sense to
+hold his tongue upon the noisy questions that waste Parliament's time,
+and the nation's; but, on the first of those periodical attacks to
+which the wretched landowner is subject, wouldn't he speak, and show
+the difference between a mere member of the Commons and a member for
+the county?
+
+If anyone had asked this man plump which is the most important,
+England or ----shire, he would have certainly told you England; but
+our opinions are not the notions we repeat, and can defend by reasons
+or even by facts: our opinions are the notions we feel and act on.
+
+Could you have looked inside Mr. Fountain's head, you would have seen
+ideas corresponding to the following diagrams:
+
+[drawing]
+
+Mr. Fountain courted the stomach of the county.
+
+Without this, he knew, an angel could not reach its heart; and here
+one of his eccentricities broke out. He drew a line, in his
+dictatorial way, between dinner and feeding parties. "A dinner party
+is two rubbers. Four gentlemen and four ladies sit round a circular
+table; then each can hear what anyone says, and need not twist the
+neck at every word. Foraging parties are from fourteen to thirty, set
+up and down a plank, each separated from those he could talk to as
+effectually as if the ocean rolled between, and bawling into one
+person's ear amid the din of knives, forks, and multitude. I go to
+those long strings of noisy duets because I must, but I give
+_society_ at home."
+
+The county people had just strength of mind to like the old boy's
+sociable dinners, though not to imitate them, and an invitation from
+him was very rarely declined when Lucy was with him.
+
+And she was in her glory. She could carry complaisance such a long way
+at Font Abbey--she was mistress of the house.
+
+She listened with a wonderful appearance of interest to county
+matters, i.e., to minute scandal and infinitesimal politics; to
+the county cricket match and archery meeting; to the past ball and the
+ball to come. In the drawing-room, when a cold fit fell on the
+coterie, she would glide to one egotist after another, find out the
+monotope, and set the critter Peter's, the Place de Concorde, the
+Square of St. Mark, Versailles, the Alhambra, the Apollo Belvidere,
+the Madonna of the Chair, and all the glories of nature and the feats
+of art could not warm. So, then, the fine gentleman began to act--to
+walk himself out as a person who had seen and could give details about
+anything, but was exalted far above admiring anything _(quel grand
+homme! rien ne peut lui plaire);_ and on this, while the women were
+gazing sweetly on him, and revering his superiority to all great
+impressions, and the men envying, rather hating, but secretly admiring
+him too, she who had launched him bent on him a look of soft pity, and
+abandoned him to admiration.
+
+"Poor Mr. Talboys," thought she, "I fear I have done him an ill turn
+by drawing him out;" and she glided to her uncle, who was sitting
+apart, and nobody talking to him.
+
+Mr. Talboys, started by Lucy, ambled out his high-pacing
+_nil admirantem_ character, and derived a little quiet
+self-satisfaction. This was the highest happiness he was capable of;
+so he was not ungrateful to Miss Fountain, who had procured it him,
+and partly for this, partly because he had been kind to her and lent
+her a pony, he shook hands with her somewhat cordially at parting. As
+it happened, he was the last guest.
+
+"You have won that, man's heart, Lucy," cried Mr. Fountain, with a
+mixture of surprise and pride.
+
+Lucy made no reply. She looked quickly into his face to see if he was
+jesting.
+
+
+"Writing, Lucy--so late?"
+
+"Only a few lines, uncle. You shall see them; I note the more
+remarkable phenomena of society. I am recalling a conversation between
+three of our guests this evening, and shall be grateful for your
+opinion on it. There! Read it out, please."
+
+
+Mrs. Luttrell. "We missed you at the archery meeting--ha! ha! ha!"
+
+Mrs. Willis. "Mr. Willis would not let me go--he! he! he!"
+
+Mrs. James. "Well, at all events--he! he!--you will come to the flower
+show."
+
+Mrs. Willis. "Oh yes!--he! he!--I am so fond of flowers--ha! ha!"
+
+Mrs. Luttrell. "So am I. I adore them--he! he!"
+
+Mrs. Willis. "How sweetly Miss Malcolm sings--he! he!"
+
+Mrs. Luttrell. "Yes, she shakes like a bird--ha! ha!"
+
+Mrs. James. "A little Scotch accent though--he! he!"
+
+Mrs. Luttrell. "She is Scotch--he! he!" (To John offering her tea.)
+"No more, thank you--he! he!"
+
+Mrs. James. "Shall you go the Assize sermon?--ha! ha!"
+
+Mrs. Willis. "Oh, yes--he! he!--the last was very dry--he! he! Who
+preaches it this term?--he!"
+
+Mrs. James. "The Bishop--he! he!"
+
+Mrs. Willis. "Then I shall certainly go; he is such a dear
+preacher--he! he!"
+
+
+"Just tell me what is the precise meaning of 'ha! ha!' and what of
+'he! he!'"
+
+"The precise meaning? There you puzzle me, uncle."
+
+"I mean, what do you mean by them?"
+
+"Oh, I put 'ha! ha!' when they giggle, and 'he! he!' when they only
+chuckle."
+
+"Then this is a caricature, my lady?"
+
+"No, dear, you know I have no satire in me; it is taken down to the
+letter, and I fear I must trouble you for the solution."
+
+"Well, the solution is, they are three fools."
+
+"No, uncle, begging your pardon, they are not," replied Lucy, politely
+but firmly.
+
+"Well, then, three d--d fools."
+
+Lucy winced at the participle, but was two polite to lecture her
+elder. "They have not that excuse," said she; "they are all sensible
+women, who discharge the duties of life with discretion except
+society; and they can discriminate between grave and gay whenever they
+are not at a party; and as for Mrs. Luttrell, when she is alone with
+me she is a sweet, natural love."
+
+"They cackled--at every word--like that--the whole evening!!??"
+
+"Except when you told that funny story about the Irish corporal who
+was attacked by a mastiff, and killed him with his halberd, and, when
+he was reproached by his captain for not being content to repel so
+valuable an animal with the butt end of his lance, answered--ha! ha!"
+
+"So, then, he answered 'Haw! haw!' did he?"
+
+"Now, uncle! No; he answered, 'So I would, your arnr, if he had run at
+me with his tail!' Now, that was genuine wit, mixed with quite enough
+fun to make an intelligent person laugh; and then you told it so
+drolly--ha! ha!"
+
+"They did not laugh at _that?"_
+
+"Sat as grave as judges."
+
+"And you tell me they are not fools."
+
+"I must repeat, they have not that excuse. Perhaps their risibility
+had been exhausted. After laughing three hours _a propos de
+rien,_ it is time to be serious out of place. I will tell you what
+they _did_ laugh at, though. Miss Malcolm sang a song with a
+title I dare not attempt. There were two lines in it which I am going
+to mispronounce; but you are not Scotch, so I don't care for
+_you,_ uncle, darling.
+
+      "'He had but a saxpence; he break it in twa,
+        And he gave me the half o't when he gaed awa.'
+
+"They laughed at that; a general giggle went round."
+
+"Well, I must confess, I don't see much to laugh at in that, Lucy."
+
+"It would be odd if you did, uncle, dear; why, it is pathetic."
+
+"Pathetic? Oh, is it?"
+
+"You naughty, cunning uncle, you know it is; it is pathetic, and
+almost heroic. Consider, dear: in a world where the very newspapers
+show how mercenary we all are, a poor young man is parted from his
+love. He has but one coin to go through the world with, and what does
+he do with it? Scheme to make the sixpence a crown, and to make the
+crown a pound? No; he breaks this one treasure in two, that both the
+poor things may have a silver token of love and a pledge of his
+return. I am sure, if the poet had been here, he would have been quite
+angry with us for laughing at that line."
+
+"Keep your temper. Why, this is new from you, Lucy; but you women of
+sugar can all cauterize your own sex; the theme inspires you."
+
+"Uncle, how dare you! Are you not afraid I shall be angry one of these
+days, dear!!? The gentlemen were equally concerned in this last
+enormity. Poor Jemmy, or Jammy, with his devotion and tenderness that
+soothed, and his high spirit that supported the weaker vessel, was as
+funny to our male as to our female guests--so there. I saw but one
+that understood him, and did not laugh at him."
+
+"Talboys, for a pound."
+
+"Mr. Talboys? no! _You,_ dear uncle; you did not laugh; I noticed
+it with all a niece's pride."
+
+"Of course I didn't. Can I hear a word these ladies mew? can I tell in
+what language even they are whining and miauling? I have given up
+trying this twenty years and more."
+
+"I return to my question," said Lucy hastily.
+
+"And I to my solution; your three graces are three d--d fools. If you
+can account for it in any other way, do."
+
+"No, uncle dear. If you had happened to agree with me beforehand, I
+would; but as you do not, I beg to be excused. But keep the paper, and
+the next time listen to the talk and unmeaning laughter; you will find
+I have not exaggerated, and some day, dear, I will tell you how my
+mamma used to account for similar monstrosities in society."
+
+"Here is a mysterious little toad. Well, Lucy, for all this you
+enjoyed yourself. I never saw you in better spirits."
+
+"I am glad you saw that," said Lucy, with a languid smile.
+
+"And how Talboys came out."
+
+"He did," sighed Lucy.
+
+Here the young lady lighted softly on an ottoman, and sank gracefully
+back with a weary-o'-the-world air; and when she had settled down like
+so much floss silk, fixing her eye on the ceiling, and doling her
+words out languidly yet thoughtfully--just above a whisper, "Uncle,
+darling," inquired she, "where are the men we have all heard of?"
+
+"How should I know? What men?"
+
+"Where are the men of sentiment, that can understand a woman, and win
+her to reveal her real heart, the best treasure she has, uncle dear?"
+She paused for a reply; none coming, she continued with decreasing
+energy:
+
+"Where are the men of spirit? the men of action? the upright,
+downright men, that Heaven sends to cure us of our disingenuousness?
+Where are the heroes and the wits?" (an infinitesimal yawn); "where
+are the real men? And where are the women to whom such men can do
+homage without degrading themselves? where are the men who elevate a
+woman without making her masculine, and the women who can brighten and
+polish, and yet not soften the steel of manhood--tell me, tell me
+instantly," said she, with still greater languor and want of
+earnestness, and her eyes remained fixed on the ceiling in deep
+abstraction.
+
+"They are all in this house at this moment," said Mr. Fountain,
+coolly.
+
+"Who, dear? I fear I was not attending to you. How rude!!"
+
+"Horrid. I say the men and women you inquire for are all in this house
+of mine;" and the old gentleman's eyes twinkled.
+
+"Uncle! Heaven forgive you, and--oh, fie!"
+
+"They are, upon my soul."
+
+"Then they must be in some part of it I have not visited. Are they in
+the kitchen?" (with a little saucy sneer.)
+
+"No, they are in the library."
+
+"In the lib--Ah! _le malin!"_
+
+"They were never seen in the drawing-room, and never will be."
+
+"Yet surely they must have lived in nature before they were embalmed
+in print," said Lucy, interrogating the ceiling again.
+
+"The nearest approach you will meet to these paragons is Reginald
+Talboys," said Fountain, stoutly.
+
+"Uncle, I do love you;" and Lucy rose with Juno-like slowness and
+dignity, and, leaning over the old boy, kissed him with sudden small
+fury.
+
+"Why?" asked he, eagerly, connecting this majestic squirt of affection
+with his last speech.
+
+"Because you are such a nice, dear, _sarcastic_ thing. Let us
+drink tea in the library to-morrow, then that will be an approach
+to--"
+
+With this illegitimate full stop the conversation ended, and Miss
+Fountain took a candle and sauntered to bed.
+
+
+In church next Sunday Lucy observed a young lady with a beaming face,
+who eyed her by stealth in all the interstices of devotion. She asked
+her uncle who was that pretty girl with a _nez retrousse._
+
+"A cocked nose? It must be my little friend, Eve Dodd. I didn't know
+she was come back."
+
+"What a pretty face to be in such--such a--such an impossible bonnet.
+It has come down from another epoch." This not maliciously, but with a
+sort of tender, womanly concern for beauty set off to the most
+disadvantage.
+
+"O, hang her bonnet! She is full of fun; she shall drink tea with us;
+she is a great favorite of mine."
+
+They quickened their pace, and caught Eve Dodd just as she took a
+flying leap over some water that lay in her path, and showed a
+charming ankle. In those days female dress committed two errors that
+are disappearing: it revealed the whole foot by day, and hid a section
+of the bosom at night.
+
+After the usual greetings, Mr. Fountain asked Eve if she would come
+over and drink tea with him and his niece.
+
+Miss Dodd colored and cast a glance of undisguised admiration at Miss
+Fountain, but she said: "Thank you, sir; I am much obliged, but I am
+afraid I can't come. My brother would miss me."
+
+"What--the sailor? Is he at home?"
+
+"Yes, sir; came home last night"; and she clapped her hands by way of
+comment. "He has been with my mother all church-time; so now it is my
+turn, and I don't know how to let him out of my sight yet awhile." And
+she gave a glance at Miss Fountain, as much as to say, "You
+understand."
+
+"Well, Eve," said Mr. Fountain good-humoredly, "we must not separate
+brother and sister," and he was turning to go.
+
+"Perhaps, uncle," said Lucy, looking not at Mr. Fountain, but at
+Eve--"Mr.--Mr.--"
+
+"David Dodd is my brother's name," said Eve, quickly.
+
+"Mr. David Dodd might be persuaded to give us the pleasure of his
+company too."
+
+"Oh yes, if I may bring dear David with me," burst out the child of
+nature, coloring again with pleasure.
+
+"It will add to the obligation," said Lucy, finishing the sentence in
+character.
+
+"So that is settled," said Mr. Fountain, somewhat dryly.
+
+As they were walking home together, the courtier asked her uncle
+rather coldly, "Who are these we have invited, dear?"
+
+"Who are they? A pretty girl and a man she wouldn't come without."
+
+"And who is the gentleman? What is he?"
+
+"A marine animal--first mate of a ship."
+
+"First mate? mate? Is that what in the novels is called boatswain's
+mate?"
+
+"Haw! haw! haw! I say, Lucy, ask him when he comes if he is the
+bosen's mate. How little Eve will blaze!"
+
+"Then I shall ask him nothing of the kind. Do tell me! I know
+admirals--they swear--and captains, and, I think, lieutenants, and,
+_above all,_ those little loves of midshipmen, strutting with
+their dirks and cocked hats, like warlike bantams, but I never met
+'mates.' Mates?"
+
+"That is because you have only been introduced to the Royal Navy; but
+there is another navy not so ornamental, but quite as useful, called
+the East India Company's."
+
+"I am ashamed to say I never heard of it."
+
+"I dare say not. Well, in this navy there are only two kinds of
+superior officers--the mates and the captain. There are five or six
+mates. Young Dodd has been first mate some time, so I suppose he will
+soon be a captain."
+
+"Uncle!"
+
+"Well."
+
+"Will this--mate--swear?"
+
+"Clearly."
+
+"There, now. I do not like swearing on a Sunday. That wicked old
+admiral used to make me shudder."
+
+"Oh," said Mr. Fountain, playing upon innocence, "he swore by the
+Supreme Being, 'I bet sixpence.'"
+
+"Yes," said Lucy, in a low, soft voice of angelic regret.
+
+"Ah! he was in the Royal Navy. But this is a merchantman; you don't
+think he will presume to break into the monopoly of the superior
+branch. He will only swear by the wind and weather. Thunder and
+squalls! Donner and blitzen! Handspikes and halyards! these are the
+innocent execrations of the merchant service--he! he! ho!"
+
+"Uncle, can you be serious?" asked Lucy, somewhat coldly; "if so, be
+so good as to tell me, is this gentleman--a--gentleman?"
+
+"Well," replied the other, coolly, "he is what I call a nondescript;
+like an attorney, or a surgeon, or a civil engineer, or a banker, or a
+stock-broker, and all that sort of people. He can be a gentleman if he
+is thoroughly bent on it; you would in his place, and so should I; but
+these skippers don't turn their mind that way. Old families don't go
+into the merchant service. Indeed, it would not answer. There they
+rise by--by--mere maritime considerations."
+
+"Then, uncle," began Lucy, with dignified severity, "permit me to say
+that, in inviting a nondescript, you showed--less consideration for me
+than--you--are in the habit--of doing, dearest."
+
+"Well, have a headache, and can't come down."
+
+"So I certainly should; but, most unfortunately, I have an objection
+to tell fibs on a Sunday."
+
+"You are quite right; we should rest from our usual employments one
+day-ha! ha! and so go at it fresher to-morrow--haw! ho! Come, Lucy,
+don't you be so exclusive. Eve Dodd is a merry girl. She comes and
+amuses me when you are not here, and David, by all accounts, is a fine
+young fellow, and as modest as a girl of fifteen; they will make me
+laugh, especially Eve, and it would be hard at my age, I think, if I
+might not ask whom I like--to tea."
+
+"So it would," put in Lucy, hastily; she added, coaxing, "it shall
+have its own way--it shall have what makes it laugh."
+
+
+Long before eight o'clock the Fountains had forgotten that they had
+invited the Dodds.
+
+Not so Eve. She was all in a flutter, and hesitated between two
+dresses, and by some blessed inspiration decided for the plainest; but
+her principal anxiety was, not about herself, but about David's
+deportment before the Queen of Fashion, for such report proclaimed
+Miss Fountain. "And those fine ladies are so satirical," said Eve to
+herself; "but I will lecture him going along."
+
+Dinner time, and, by consequence, tea time, came earlier in those
+days; so, about eight o'clock, a tall, square-shouldered young fellow
+was walking in the moonlight toward Font Abbey, Eve holding his hand,
+and tripping by his side, and lecturing him on deportment very gravely
+while dancing around him and pulling him all manner of ways, like your
+solid tune with your gamboling accompaniment, a combination now in
+vogue. All of a sudden, without with your leave or by your leave, the
+said David caught this light fantastic object up in his arms, and
+carried it on one shoulder.
+
+On this she gave a little squeak; then, without a moment's interval,
+continued her lecture as if nothing had happened. She looked down from
+her perch like a hen from a ladder, and laid down the law to David
+with seriousness and asperity.
+
+"And just please to remember that they are people a long way above
+us--at least above what we are now, since father fell into trouble; so
+don't you make too free; and Miss Fountain is the finest of all the
+fine ladies in the county."
+
+"Then I am sorry we are going."
+
+"No, you are not; she is a beautiful girl."
+
+"That alters the case."
+
+"No, it does not. Don't chatter so, David, interrupting forever, but
+listen and mind what I say, or I'll never take you anywhere again."
+
+"Are you sure you are taking me now?" asked David, dryly.
+
+"Why not, Mr. David?" retorted Eve, from his shoulder. "Didn't I hear
+you tell how you took the _Combermere_ out of harbor, and how you
+brought her into port; she didn't take you out and bring you home,
+eh?"
+
+"Had me there, though."
+
+"Yes; and, what is more, you are not skipper of the _Combermere_
+yet, and never will be; but I am skipper of you."
+
+"Ashore--not a doubt of it," said David, with cool indifference. He
+despised terrestrial distinction, courting only such as was marine.
+
+"Then I command you to let me down this instant. Do you hear, crew!"
+
+"No," objected David; "if I put you overboard you can't command the
+vessel, and ten to one if the craft does not founder for want of
+seawomanship on the quarterdeck. However," added he, in a relenting
+tone, "wait till we get to that puddle shining on ahead, and then I'll
+disembark you."
+
+"No, David, do let me down, that's a good soul. I am tired," added
+she, peevishly.
+
+"Tired! of what?"
+
+"Of doing nothing, stupid; there, let me down, dear; won't you,
+darling! then take that, love" (a box of the ear).
+
+"Well, I've got it," said David, dryly.
+
+"Keep it, then, till the next. No, he won't let me down. He has got
+both my hands in one of his paws, and he will carry me every foot of
+the way now--I know the obstinate pig."
+
+"We all have our little characters, Eve. Well, I have got your wrists,
+but you have got your tongue, and that is the stronger weapon of the
+two, you know; and you are on the poop, so give your orders, and the
+ship shall be worked accordingly; likewise, I will enter all your
+remarks on good-breeding into my log."
+
+Here, unluckily, David tapped his forehead to signify that the log in
+question was a metaphorical one, the log of memory. Eve had him again
+directly. She freed a claw. "So this is your log, is it?" cried she,
+tapping it as hard as she could; "well, it does sound like wood of
+some sort. Well, then, David, dear--you wretch, I mean--promise me not
+to laugh loud."
+
+"Well, I will not; it is odds if I laugh at all. I wish we were to
+moor alongside mother, instead of running into this strange port."
+
+"Stuff! think of Miss Fountain's figure-head--nor tell too many
+stories--and, above all, for heaven's sake, do keep the poor dear old
+sea out of sight for once."
+
+"Ay, ay, that stands to reason."
+
+By this time they were at Font Abbey, and David deposited his fair
+burden gently on the stone steps of the door. She opened it without
+ceremony, and bustled into the dining-room, crying, "I have brought
+David, sir; and here he is;" and she accompanied David's bow with a
+corresponding movement of her hand, the knuckles downward.
+
+The old gentleman awoke with a start, rubbed his eyes, shook hands
+with the pair, and proposed to go up to Lucy in the drawing-room.
+
+Now, it happened unluckily that Miss Fountain had been to the library
+and taken down one or two of those men and women who, according to her
+uncle, exist only on paper, and certain it is she was in charming
+company when she heard her visitors' steps and voices coming up the
+stairs. Had those visitors seen the vexed expression of her face as
+she laid down the book they would have instantly 'bout ship and home
+again; but that sour look dissolved away as they came through the open
+door.
+
+On coming in they saw a young lady seated on a sofa.
+
+Apparently she did not see them enter. Her face _happened_ to be
+averted; but, ere they had taken three steps, she turned her face, saw
+them, rose, and took two steps to meet them, all beaming with
+courtesy, kindness and quiet satisfaction at their arrival.
+
+She gave her hand to Eve.
+
+"This is my brother, Miss Fountain."
+
+Miss Fountain instantly swept David a courtesy with such a grace and
+flow, coupled with an engaging smile, that the sailor was fascinated,
+and gazed instead of bowing.
+
+Eve had her finger ready to poke him, when he recovered himself and
+bowed low.
+
+Eve played the accompaniment with her hand, knuckles down.
+
+They sat down. Cups of tea, etc., were brought round to each by John.
+It was bad tea, made out of the room. Catch a human being making good
+tea in which it is not to share.
+
+Mr. Fountain was only half awake.
+
+Eve was more or less awed by Lucy. David, tutored by Eve, held his
+tongue altogether, or gave short answers.
+
+"This must be what the novels call a sea-cub!" thought Miss Fountain.
+
+The friends, Propriety and Restraint, presided over the innocent
+banquet, and a dismal evening set in.
+
+The first infraction of this polite tranquillity came, I blush to say,
+from the descendant of John de Fonte. He exploded in a yawn of
+magnitude; to cover this, the young lady began hastily to play her old
+game of setting people astride their topic, and she selected David
+Dodd for the experiment. She put on a warm curiosity about the sea,
+and ships, and the countries men visit in them. Then occurred a droll
+phenomenon: David flashed with animation, and began full and
+intelligent answers; then, catching his sister's eye, came to
+unnatural full stops; and so warmly and skillfully was he pressed that
+it cost him a gigantic effort to avoid giving much amusement and
+instruction. The courtier saw this hesitation, and the vivid flashes
+of intelligence, and would not lose her prey. She drew him with all a
+woman's tact, and with a warmth so well feigned that it set him on
+real fire. His instinct of politeness would not let him go on all
+night giving short answers to inquiring beauty. He turned his eye,
+which glowed now like a live coal, toward that enticing voice, and
+presently, like a ship that has been hanging over the water ever so
+long on the last rollers, with one gallant glide he took the sea, and
+towed them all like little cockle-boats in his wake. From sea to sea,
+from port to port, from tribe to tribe, from peril to peril, from feat
+to feat, David whirled his wonderstruck hearers, and held them panting
+by the quadruple magic of a tuneful voice, a changing eye, an ardent
+soul, and truth at first-hand.
+
+They sat thrilled and surprised, most of all Miss Fountain. To her,
+things great and real had up to that moment been mere vague outlines
+seen through a mist. Moreover, her habitual courtesy had hitherto
+drawn out pumps; but now, when least expected, all in a moment, as a
+spark fires powder, it let off a man.
+
+A sailor is a live book of travels. Check your own vanity (if you
+possibly can) and set him talking, you shall find him full of curious
+and profitable matter.
+
+The Fountains did not know this, and, even if they had, Dodd would
+have taken them by surprise; for, besides being a sailor and a
+sea-enthusiast, he was a fellow of great capacity and mental vigor.
+
+He had not skimmed so many books as we have, but I fear he had sucked
+more. However, his main strength did not lie there. He was not a paper
+man, and this--oh! men of paper and oh! C. R. in particular--gave him
+a tremendous advantage over you that Sunday evening.
+
+The man whose knowledge all comes from reading accumulates a great
+number of what?--facts? No, of the shadows of facts; shadows often so
+thin, indistinct and featureless, that, when one of the facts
+themselves runs against him in real life, he does not know his old
+friend, round about which he has written a smart leader in a journal
+and a ponderous trifle in the Polysyllabic Review.
+
+But this sailor had stowed into his mental hold not fact-shadows, but
+the glowing facts all alive, O. For thirteen years, man and boy, he
+had beat about the globe, with real eyes, real ears, and real brains
+ever at work. He had drunk living knowledge like a fish, and at
+fountainheads.
+
+Yet, to utter intellectual wealth nobly, two things more are
+indispensable the gift of language and a tunable voice, which last
+does not always come by talking with tempests.
+
+Well, David Dodd had sucked in a good deal of language from books and
+tongues; not, indeed, the Norman-French and demi-Latin and jargon of
+the schools, printed for English in impotent old trimestrials for the
+further fogification of cliques, but he had laid by a fair store of
+the best--of the monosyllables--the Saxon--the soul and vestal fire of
+the great English tongue.
+
+So he was never at a loss for words, simple, clear, strong, like
+blasts of a horn.
+
+His voice at this period was mellow and flexible. He was a mimic, too;
+the brighter things he had seen, whether glories of nature or acts of
+man, had turned to pictures in this man's mind. He flashed these
+pictures one after another upon the trio; he peopled the soft and
+cushioned drawing-room with twenty different tribes and varieties of
+man, barbarous, semi-barbarous, and civilized; their curious customs,
+their songs and chants, and dances, and struts, and actual postures.
+
+The aspect of famous shores from the sea, glittering coasts, dark
+straits, volcanic rocks defying sea and sky, and warm, delicious
+islands clothed with green, that burst on the mariner's sight after
+rugged places and scowling skies.
+
+The adventures of one unlucky ship, the _Connemara,_ on a single
+whaling cruise on the coast of Peru. The first slight signs of a gale,
+seen only by the careful skipper. The hasty preparations for it: all
+hands to shorten sail; then the moaning of the wind high up in the
+sky. All hands to reef sail now--the whirl and whoo of the gale as it
+came down on them. The ship careening as it caught her, the
+speaking-trumpet--the captain howling his orders through it amid the
+tumult.
+
+The floating icebergs--the ship among them, picking her way in and out
+a hundred deaths. Baffled by the unyielding wind off Cape Horn,
+sailing six weeks on opposite tacks, and ending just where they began,
+weather-bound in sight of the gloomy Horn. Then the terrors of a
+land-locked bay, and a lee shore; the ship tacking, writhing,
+twisting, to weather one jutting promontory; the sea and safety is on
+the other side of it; land and destruction on this--the attempt, the
+hope, the failure; then the stout-hearted, skillful captain would try
+one rare maneuver to save the ship, cargo, and crew. He would
+club-haul her, "and if that fails, my lads, there is nothing but up
+mainsail, up helm, run her slap ashore, and lay her bones on the
+softest bit of rock we can pick."
+
+Long ere this the poor ship had become a live thing to all these four,
+and they hung breathless on her fate.
+
+Then he showed how a ship is club-hauled, and told how nobly
+the old _Connemara_ behaved (ships are apt to when well
+handled--double-barreled guns ditto), and how the wind blew fiercer,
+and the rocks seemed to open their mouths for her, and how she hung
+and vibrated between safety and destruction, and at last how she
+writhed and slipped between Death's lips, yet escaped his teeth, and
+tossed and tumbled in triumph on the great but fair fighting sea; and
+how they got at last to the whaling ground, and could not find a whale
+for many a weary day, and the novices said: "They were all killed
+before we sailed;" and how, as uncommon ill luck is apt to be balanced
+by uncommon good luck, one fine evening they fell in with a whole
+shoal of whales at play, jumping clean into the air sixty feet long,
+and coming down each with a splash like thunder; even the captain had
+never seen such a game; and how the crew were for lowering the boats
+and going at them, but the captain would not let them; a hundred
+playful mountains of fish, the smallest weighing thirty ton, flopping
+down happy-go-lucky, he did not like the looks of it.
+
+"The boat will be at the mercy of chance among all those tails, and we
+are not lucky enough to throw at random. No; since the beggars have
+taken to dancing, for a change, let them dance all night; to-morrow
+they shall pay the piper." How, at peep of day, the man at the
+mast-head saw ten whales about two leagues off on the weather-bow; how
+the ship tacked and stood toward them; how she weathered on one of
+monstrous size, and how he and the other youngsters were mad to lower
+the boat and go after it, and how the captain said: "Ye lubbers, can't
+ye see that is a right whale, and not worth a button? Look here away
+over the quarter at this whale. See how low she spouts. She is a sperm
+whale, and worth seven hundred pounds if she was only dead and towed
+alongside."
+
+"'That she shall be in about a minute,' cried one; and, indeed, we
+were all in a flame; the boat was lowered, and didn't I worship the
+skipper when he told me off to be one of her crew!
+
+"I was that eager to be in at that whale's death, I didn't recollect
+there might be smaller brutes in danger.
+
+"Just before the oars fell into the water, the skipper looked down
+over the bulwarks, and says he to one of us that had charge of the
+rope that is fast to the boat at one end and to the harpoon at the
+other, 'Now, Jack you are a new hand; mind all I told you last night,
+or your mother will see me come ashore without you, and that will vex
+her; and, my lads, remember, if there is a single lubberly hitch in
+that line, you will none of you come up the ship's side again.'
+
+"'All right, captain,' says Jack, and we pulled off singing,
+
+     "'And spring to your oars, and, make your boat fly,
+       And when you come near her beware of her eye,'
+
+till the coxswain bade us hold our lubberly tongues, and not frighten
+the whales; however, we soon found we wanted all our breath for our
+work, and more too." Then David painted the furious race after the
+whale, and how the boat gradually gained, and how at last, as he was
+grinding his teeth and pulling like mad, he heard a sound ahead like a
+hundred elephants wallowing; and now he hoped to see the harpooner
+leave his oar, and rise and fling his weapon; "but that instant, up
+flukes, a tower of fish was seen a moment in the air, with a tail-fin
+at the top of it just about the size of this room we are sitting in,
+ladies, and down the whale sounded; then it was pull on again in her
+wake, according as she headed in sounding; pull for the dear life; and
+after a while the oarsmen saw the steerman's eyes, prying over the
+sea, turn like hot coals. The men caught fire at this, and put their
+very backbones into each stroke, and the boat skimmed and flew.
+Suddenly the steersman cried out fiercely, 'Stand up, harpoon! Up rose
+the harpooner, _his_ eye like a hot coal now. The men saw
+nothing; they must pull fiercer than ever. The harpooner balanced his
+iron, swayed his body lightly, and the harpoon hissed from him. A soft
+thud--then a heaving of the water all round, a slap that sounded like
+a church tower falling flat upon an acre of boards, and drenched, and
+blinded, and half smothered us all in spray, and at the same moment
+away whirled the boat, dancing and kicking in the whale's foaming,
+bubbling wake, and we holding on like grim death by the thwarts, not
+to be spun out into the sea."
+
+"Delightful!" cried Miss Fountain; "the waves bounded beneath you like
+a steed that knows its rider. Pray continue."
+
+"Yes, Miss Fountain. Now of course you can see that, if the line ran
+out too easy, the whale would leave us astern altogether, and if it
+jammed or ran too hard, she would tow us under water."
+
+"Of course we see," said Eve, ironically; "we understand everything by
+instinct. Hang explanations when I'm excited; go ahead, do!"
+
+"Then I won't explain how it is or why it is, but I'll just let you
+know that two or three hundred fathom of line are passed round the
+boat from stem to stern and back, and carried in and out between the
+oarsmen as they sit. Well, it was all new to me then; but when the
+boat began jumping and rocking, and the line began whizzing in and
+out, and screaming and smoking like--there now, fancy a machine, a
+complicated one, made of poisonous serpents, the steam on, and you
+sitting in the middle of the works, with not an inch to spare, on the
+crankest, rockingest, jumpingest, bumpingest, rollingest cradle that
+ever--"
+
+"David!" said Eve, solemnly.
+
+"Hallo!" sang out David.
+
+"Don't!"
+
+"Oh, yes, do!" cried Lucy, slightly clasping her hands.
+
+"If this little black ugly line was to catch you, it would spin you
+out of the boat like a shuttlecock; if it held you, it would cut you
+in two, or hang you to death, or drown you all at one time; and if it
+got jammed against anything alive or dead that could stand the strain,
+it would take the boat and crew down to the coral before you could
+wink twice."
+
+"Oh, dear!" said Lucy; "then I don't think I like it now; it is too
+terrible. Pray go on, Mr.--Mr.--"
+
+"Well, Miss Fountain, when a novice like me saw this black serpent
+twisting and twirling, and smoking and hissing in and out among us, I
+remembered the skipper's words, and I hailed Jack--it was he had laid
+the line--he was in the bow.
+
+"'Jack,' said I.
+
+"'Hallo!" said he.
+
+"'For God's sake, are there any hitches in the line?' said I.
+
+"'Not as I _knows_ on,' says he, much cooler than you sit there;
+and that is a sailor all over. Well, she towed us about a mile, and
+then she was blown, and we hauled up on the line, and came up with
+her, and drove lances into her, till she spouted blood instead of salt
+water, and went into her flurry, and rolled suddenly over our way
+dead, and was within a foot of smashing us to atoms; but if she had it
+would only have been an accident, for she was past malice, poor thing.
+Then we took possession, planted our flagstaff in her spouting-hole,
+you know, and pulled back to the ship, and she came down and anchored
+to the whale, and then, for the first time, I saw the blubber stripped
+off a whale and hoisted by tackles into the ship's hold, which is as
+curious as any part of the business, but a dirtyish job, and not fit
+for the present company, and I dare say that is enough about whales."
+
+"No! no! no!"
+
+"Well, then, shall I tell you how one old whale knocked our boat clean
+into the air, bottom uppermost, and how we swam round her and managed
+to right her?"
+
+"And went back to the ship and had your tea in bed and your clothes
+dried?"
+
+"No, Eve," replied David, with the utmost simplicity; "we got in and
+to work again, and killed the whale in less than half an hour, and
+planted our flag on her, and away after another."
+
+Then he told them how they harpooned one right whale, and by good luck
+were able to make her fast to the stern of the ship. "And, if you
+will believe me, Miss Fountain, though there was just a breath on and
+off right aft, and the foresail, jib and mizzen all set to catch it,
+she towed the ship astern a good cable's length, and the last thing
+was she broke the harpoon shaft just below the line, and away she swam
+right in the wind's eye."
+
+"And there was an end of her and your nasty, cruel, harpoon, and--oh,
+I'm so pleased!"
+
+"No, there wasn't, Eve; we heard of both fish and harpoon again, but
+not for a good many years."
+
+"Mr. Dodd!"
+
+"Yes, Miss Fountain. It is curious, like many things that fall out at
+sea, but not so wonderful as her towing a ship of four hundred tons,
+with the foresail, mizzen, and jib all aback. Well, sir, did you ever
+hear of Nantucket? It is a port in the United States; and our
+harpooner happened to be there full four years after we lost this
+whale. Some Yankee whalers were treating him to the best of grog, and
+it was brag Briton, brag Yankee, according to custom whenever these
+two met. Well, our man had no more invention than a stone; so he was
+getting the worst of it till he bethought him of this whale; so he up
+and told how he had struck a right whale in the Pacific, and she had
+towed the ship with her sails aback, at least her foresail, mizzen,
+and jib, only he didn't tell it short like me, but as long as the Red
+Sea, with the day and the hour, the latitude (within four or five
+degrees, I take it), and what we had done a week before, and what we
+had not done, all by way of prologue, and for fear of weathering the
+horn--tic, tic--the point of the story too soon. When he had done
+there was a general howl of laughter, and they began to cap lies with
+him, and so they bantered him most cruelly, by all accounts; but at
+last a long silent chap, weather-beaten to the color of rosewood, put
+in his word.
+
+"'What was the ship's name, mate?'
+
+"'The _Connemara_,' says he.
+
+"'And what is your name?' So he told him, 'Jem Green.'
+
+"The other brings a great mutton fist down on the table, and makes all
+the glasses dance. 'You stay at your moorings till I come back,' says
+he. 'I have got something belonging to you, Jem Green,' and he sheered
+off. The others lay to and passed the grog. Presently the long
+one comes back with a harpoon steel in his hand; there was
+_Connemara_ stamped on it, and also 'James Green' graved with a
+knife. 'Is that yours?' 'Is my hand mine?' says Jem; 'but wasn't there
+a broken shaft to it!"
+
+"'There was,' says the Yankee harpooner; 'I cut it out.'
+
+"'Well!' says Jem, 'that is the harpoon we were fast by to this very
+whale. Where did you kill her?'
+
+"'In the Greenland seas.' And he whips out his private log. 'Here you
+are,' says he; 'March 25, 1820, latitude so and so, killed a right
+whale; lost half the blubber, owing to the carcass sinking; cut an
+English harpoon out of her.'
+
+"'Avast there, mate!' cried Jem, and he whips, out _his_ log;
+'overhaul that.' The other harpooner overhauled it. 'Mates, look,
+here,' says he; 'I reckon we hain't fathomed the critters yet. The
+Britisher struck her in the Pacific on the 5th of March, and we killed
+her off Greenland on the 25th, five thousand miles of water by the
+lowest reckoning.' By this time there were a dozen heads jammed
+together, like bees swarming, over the two logs. 'She got a wound in
+the Pacific! "Hallo!" says she; "this is no sea for a lady to live
+in;" so she up helm, and right away across the pole into the Atlantic,
+and met her death.'"
+
+"Your story has an interest you little suspect, young gentleman. If
+this is true, the northwest passage is proved."
+
+"That has been proved a hundred times, sir, and in a hundred ways; the
+only riddle is to find it. The man that tells you there is not a
+northwest passage is no sailor, and the fish that can't find it is not
+a whale; for there is not a young suckling no bigger than this room
+that does not know that passage as well as a mid on his first voyage
+knows the way to the mizzen-top through lubber's hole. How tired you
+must be of whales, ladies?"
+
+"Oh no."
+
+"Kill us one more, David. I love bloodshed--to hear of."
+
+"Well, now, I don't think that can be Miss Fountain's taste, to look
+at her."
+
+Then David told them how he had fallen in with a sperm whale, dead of
+disease, floating as high as a frigate; how, with a very light breeze,
+the skipper had crept down toward her; how, at half a mile distance
+the stench of her was severe, but, as they neared her, awful; then so
+intolerable that the skipper gave the crew leave to go below and close
+the lee ports. So there were but two men left on the brig's deck, and
+a ship's company that a hurricane would not have driven from their
+duty skulked before a foul smell; but such a smell! a smell that
+struck a chill and a loathing to the heart, and soul, and marrow-bone;
+a smell like the gases in a foul mine; "it would have suffocated us in
+a few moments if we had been shut up along with it." Then he told how
+the skipper and he stuffed their noses and ears with cotton steeped in
+aromatic vinegar, and their mouths with pig-tail (by which, as it
+subsequently appeared, Lucy understood pork or bacon in some form
+unknown to her narrow experience), and lighted short pipes, and
+breached the brig upon the putrescent monster, and grappled to it, and
+then the skipper jumped on it, a basket slung to his back, and a rope
+fast under his shoulders in case of accident, and drove his spade in
+behind the whale's side-fin."
+
+"His spade, Mr. Dodd?"
+
+"His whale-spade; it is as sharp as a razor;" and how the skipper dug
+a hole in the whale as big as a well and four feet deep, and, after a
+long search, gave a shout of triumph, and picked out some stuff that
+looked like Gloucester cheese; and, when he had nearly filled his
+basket with this stuff, he slacked the grappling-iron, and David
+hauled him on board, and the carcass dropped astern, and the captain
+sang out for rum, and drank a small tumbler neat, and would have
+fainted away, spite of his precautions, but for the rum, and how a
+heavenly perfume was now on deck fighting with that horrid odor; and
+how the crew smelled it, and crept timidly up one by one, and how "the
+Glo'ster cheese was a great favorite of yours, ladies. It was the king
+of perfumes--amber-gas; there is some of it in all your richest
+scents; and the knowing skipper had made a hundred guineas in the turn
+of the hand. So knowledge is wealth, you see, and the sweet can be got
+out of the sour by such as study nature."
+
+"Don't preach, David, especially after just telling a fib. A hundred
+guineas!"
+
+"I am wrong,"' said David.
+
+"Very wrong, indeed."
+
+"There were eight pounds; and he sold it at a guinea the ounce to a
+wholesale chemist, so that looks to me like 128 pounds."
+
+Then David left the whales, and encouraged by bright eyes and winning
+smiles, and warm questions, sang higher strains.
+
+Ships in dire distress at sea, yet saved by God's mercy, and the cool,
+invincible courage of captain and crew--great ships run ashore--the
+waves breaking them up--the rigging black with the despairing crew,
+eying the watery death that tumbled and gaped and roared for them
+below; and then little shore boats, manned by daring hearts, launched
+into the surf, and going out to the great ship and her peril, risking
+more life for the chance of saving life. And he did not present the
+bare skeletons of daring acts; those grand morgues, the journals, do
+that. There lie the dry bones of giant epics waiting Genius's hand to
+make them live. He gave them not only the broad outward facts--the
+bones; but those smaller touches that are the body and soul of a
+story, true or false, wanting which the deeds of heroes sound an
+almanac; above all, he gave them glimpses, not only of what men acted,
+but what they felt: what passed in the hearts of men perishing at sea,
+in sight of land, houses, fires on the hearth, and outstretched hands,
+and in the hearts of the heroes that ran their boats into the surf and
+Death's maw to save them, and of the lookers on, admiring, fearing,
+shivering, glowing, and of the women that sobbed and prayed ashore
+with their backs to the sea, just able to risk lover, husband, and son
+for the honor of manhood and the love of Christ, but not able to look
+on at their own flesh and blood diving so deep, and lost so long in
+cockle-shells between the hills of waves.
+
+Such great acts, great feelings, great perils, and the gushes that
+crowned all of holy triumph when the boats came in with the dripping
+and saved, and man for a moment looked greater than the sea and the
+wind and death, this seaman poured hot from his own manly heart into
+quick and womanly bosoms, that heaved visibly, and glowed with
+admiring sympathy, and fluttered with gentle fear.
+
+And after a while, though not at first, David's yarns began to contain
+a double interest to one of the party--Miss Fountain. Those who live
+to please get to read character at sight, and David, though in these
+more noble histories he scarcely named himself, was laying a
+full-length picture of his own mind bare to these keen feminine eyes.
+As for old Fountain, he was charmed, and saw nothing more than David
+showed him outright. But the women sat flashing secret intelligence
+backward and forward from eye to eye after the manner of their sex.
+
+"Do you see?" said one lady's eyes.
+
+"Yes," replied the other. "He was concerned in this feat, though he
+does not say so."
+
+"Oh, you agree with me? Then we are right," replied the first pair of
+speakers.
+
+"There again: look; this sailor, whom he describes as a fellow that
+happened to be ashore at that foreign port with nothing better to do,
+and who went out with the English smugglers to save the brig when the
+natives durst not launch a boat?"
+
+"Himself! not a doubt of it."
+
+And so the blue and hazel lightning went dancing to and fro; ay, even
+when the tale took a sorrowful turn, and dimmed these bright orbs of
+intelligence, the lightning struggled through the dew, and David was
+read and discussed by gleams, and glances, and flashes, without a word
+spoken. And he, all unconscious that he sat between a pair of
+telegraphs, and heating more and more under his great recollections
+and his hearers' sympathy, inthralled them with his tuneful voice, his
+glowing face, his lion eye, and his breathing, burning histories.
+Heart to dare and do, yet heart to feel, and brain and tongue to tell
+a deed well, are rare allies, yet here they met.
+
+He mastered his hearers, and played on their breasts as David played
+the harp, and perhaps Achilles; Bochsa never, nor any of his tribe. He
+made the old man forget his genealogies, his small ambition, his gout,
+his years, and be a boy again an hour or two in thought, and blood,
+and early fire. He made the women's bosoms pant and swell, and seem to
+aspire to be the nests and cradles of heroes, and their eyes flash and
+glisten, and their cheeks flush and grow pale by turns; and the four
+little papered walls that confined them seemed to fall without noise,
+and they were away in thought out of a carpeted temple of wax, small
+talk, nonentity, and nonentities, away to sea-breezes that they almost
+felt in their hair and round their temples as their hearts rose and
+fell upon a broad swell of passion, perils, waves, male men,
+realities. The spell was at its height, when the sea-wizard's eye fell
+on the mantel-piece. Died in a moment his noble ardor: "Why, it is
+eight bells," said he, servilely; then, doggedly, "time to turn in."
+
+"Hang that clock!" shouted Mr. Fountain; "I'll have it turned out of
+the room."
+
+Said Lucy, with gentle enthusiasm, "It must be beautiful to be a
+sailor, and to have seen the real world, and, above all, to be brave
+and strong like Mr. ----,. must it not, uncle?" and she looked askant
+at David's square shoulders and lion eye, and for the first time in
+her life there crossed her an undefined instinct that this gentleman
+must be the male of her species.
+
+"As for his courage," said Eve, "that we have only his own word for."
+
+David grinned.
+
+"Not even that," replied Lucy, "for I observed he spoke but little of
+himself."
+
+"I did not notice that," said Eve, pertly; "but as for his strength,
+he certainly is as strong as a great bear, and as rude. What do you
+think? my lord carried me all the way from the top of the green lane
+to your house, and I am no feather."
+
+"No, a skein of silk," put in David.
+
+"I asked the gentleman politely to put me down, and he wouldn't, so
+then I boxed his ears."
+
+"Oh, how could you?"
+
+"Oh, bless you, he never hits me again; he is too great a coward. And
+the great mule carried me all the more--carried me to your very door."
+
+"I almost think--I believe I could guess why he carried you, if you
+will not be offended at my assuming the interpreter," said Lucy,
+looking at Eve and speaking at David. "You have thin shoes on, Miss
+Dodd; now I remember the gravel ends at green lane, and the grass
+begins; so, from what we know of Mr. Dodd, perhaps he carried you that
+you might not have damp feet."
+
+"Nothing of the kind--yes, it was, though, by his coloring up. La!
+David, dear boy!"
+
+"What is a man alongside for but to keep a girl out of mischief?" said
+David, bruskly.
+
+"Pray convert all your sex to that view," laughed Lucy.
+
+So now they were going. Then Mr. Fountain thanked David for the
+pleasant evening he had given them; then David blushed and stammered.
+He had a veneration for old age--another of his superstitions.
+
+Her uncle's lead gave Lucy an opportunity she instantly seized. "Mr.
+Dodd, you have taken us into a new world of knowledge; we never were
+so interested in our lives." At this pointblank praise David blushed,
+and was anything but comfortable, and began to back out of it all with
+a curt bow. Then, as the ladies can advance when a man of merit
+retreats, Lucy went the length of putting out her hand with a sweet,
+grateful smile; so he took it, and, in the ardor of encouraging so
+much spirit and modesty, she unconsciously pressed it. On this
+delicious pressure, light as it was, he raised his full brown eye, and
+gave her such a straightforward look of manly admiration and pleasure
+that she blushed faintly and drew back a little in her turn.
+
+
+"Well, Davy, dear, how do you like the Fountains?"
+
+"Eve, she is a clipper!"
+
+"And the old gentleman?"
+
+"He was very friendly. What do _you_ think of her?"
+
+"She is an out-and-out woman of the world, and very agreeable, as
+insincere people generally are. I like her because she was so polite
+to you."
+
+"Oh, that is your reading of her, is it?"
+
+The rest of the walk passed almost in silence.
+
+
+"Uncle, I am not sleepy to-night."
+
+"Who is? that young rascal has set me on fire with his yarns. Who
+would have thought that awkward cub had so much in him?"
+
+"Awkward, but not a cub; say rather a black swan; and you know, uncle,
+a swan is an awkward thing on land, but when it takes the water it is
+glorious, and that man was glorious; but--Da--vid Do--dd."
+
+"I don't know whether he was glorious, but I know he amused me, and
+I'll have him to tea three times a week while he lasts."
+
+"Uncle, do you believe such an unfortunate combination of sounds is
+his real name?" asked Lucy, gravely.
+
+"Why, who would be mad enough to feign such a name?"
+
+"That is true; but now tell me--if he should ever, think of marrying
+with such a name?"
+
+"Then there will be two David Dodd's in the world, Mr. and Mrs."
+
+"I don't think so; he will be merciful, and take her name instead of
+she his; he is so good-natured."
+
+"Ordinary sponsors would have been content with Samuel or Nathan; but
+no, this one's must, call in 'apt alliteration's artful aid,' and have
+the two 'd's.'"
+
+Lucy assented with a smile, and so, being no longer under the spell of
+the enthusiast and the male, the genealogist and the fine lady took
+the rise out of what Miss Fountain was pleased to call his impossible
+title,
+
+Da--vid Dodd.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+LUCY was not called on to write any more formal invitations to Mr.
+Talboys. Her uncle used merely to say to her: "Talboys dines with us
+to-day." She made no remark; she respected her uncle's preference;
+besides--the pony! Of these trios Mr. Fountain was the true soul. He
+had to blow the coals of conversation right and left. It is very good
+of me not to compare him to the Tropic between two frigid zones. At
+first he took his nap as usual; for he said to himself: "Now I have
+started them they can go on." Besides, he had seen pictures in the
+shop windows of an old fellow dozing and then the young ones
+"popping."
+
+Dozing off with this idea uppermost, he used to wake with his eyes
+shut and his ears wide open; but it was to hear drowsy monosyllables
+dropping out at intervals like minute-guns, or to find Lucy gone and
+Talboys reading the coals. Then the schemer sighed, and took to strong
+coffee soon after dinner, and gave up his nap, and its loss impaired
+his temper the rest of the evening.
+
+He indemnified himself for these sleepless dinners by asking David
+Dodd and his sister to tea thrice a week on the off-nights; this
+joyous pair amused the old gentleman, and he was not the man to deny
+himself a pleasure without a powerful motive.
+
+"What, again so soon?" hazarded Lucy, one day that he bade her invite
+them. "I hardly know how to word my invitation; I have exhausted the
+forms."
+
+"If you say another word, I'll make them come every night. Am I to
+have no amusement?" he added, in a deep tone of reproach; "they make
+me laugh."
+
+"Ah! I forgot; forgive me."
+
+"Little hypocrite; don't they you too, pray? Why, you are as dull as
+ditchwater the other evenings."
+
+"Me, dear, dull with you?"
+
+"Yes, Miss Crocodile, dull with a pattern uncle and his friend--and
+your admirer." He watched her to see how she would take this last
+word. Catch her taking it at all. "I am never dull with you, dear
+uncle," said she; "but a third person, however estimable, is a certain
+restraint, and when that person is not very lively--" Here the
+explanation came quietly to an untimely end, like those old tunes that
+finish in the middle or thereabouts.
+
+"But that is the very thing; what do I ask them for to-night but to
+thaw Talboys?"
+
+"To thaw Talboys? he! he!"
+
+Lucy seemed so tickled by this expression that the old gentleman was
+sorry he had used it.
+
+"I mean, they will make him laugh." Then, to turn it off, he said
+hastily, "And don't forget the fiddle, Lucy."
+
+"Oh, yes, dear, please let me forget that, and then perhaps they may
+forget to bring it."
+
+"Why, you pressed him to bring it; I heard you."
+
+"Did I?" said Lucy, ruefully.
+
+"I am sure I thought you were mad after a fiddle, you seconded Eve so
+warmly; so that was only your extravagant politeness after all. I am
+glad you are caught. I like a fiddle, so there is no harm done."
+
+Yes, reader, you have hit it. Eve, who openly quizzed her brother, but
+secretly adored him, and loved to display all his accomplishments, had
+egged on Mr. Fountain to ask David to bring his violin next time. Lucy
+had shivered internally. "Now, of all the screeching, whining things
+that I dislike, a violin!"--and thus thinking, gushed out, "Oh, pray
+do, Mr. Dodd," with a gentle warmth that settled the matter and
+imposed on all around.
+
+This evening, then, the Dodds came to tea.
+
+They found Lucy alone in the drawing-room, and Eve engaged her
+directly in sprightly conversation, into which they soon drew David,
+and, interchanging a secret signal, plied him with a few artful
+questions, and--launched him. But the one sketch I gave of his manner
+and matter must serve again and again. Were I to retail to the reader
+all the droll, the spirited, the exciting things he told his hearers,
+there would be no room for my own little story; and we are all so
+egotistical! Suffice it to say, the living book of travels was
+inexhaustible; his observation and memory were really marvelous, and
+his enthusiasm, coupled with his accuracy of detail, had still the
+power to inthrall his hearers.
+
+"Mr. Dodd," said Lucy, "now I see why Eastern kings have a
+story-teller always about them--a live story-teller. Would not you
+have one, Miss Dodd, if you were Queen of Persia?"
+
+"Me? I'd have a couple--one to make me laugh; one miserable."
+
+"One would be enough if his resources were equal to your brother's.
+Pray go on, Mr. Dodd. It was madness to interrupt you with small
+talk."
+
+David hung his head for a moment, then lifted it with a smile, and
+sailed in the spirit into the China seas, and there told them how the
+Chinamen used to slip on board his ship and steal with supernatural
+dexterity, and the sailors catch them by the tails, which they
+observing, came ever with their tails soaped like pigs at a village
+feast; and how some foolhardy sailors would venture into the town at
+the risk of their lives; and how one day they had to run for it, and
+when they got to the shore their boat was stolen, and they had to
+'bout ship and fight it out, and one fellow who knew the natives
+had loaded the sailors' guns with currant jelly. Make
+ready--present--fire! In a moment the troops of the Celestial Empire
+smarted, and were spattered with seeming gore, and fled yelling.
+
+Then he told how a poor comrade of his was nabbed and clapped in
+prison, and his hands and feet were to be cut off at sunrise; himself
+at noon. It was midnight, and strict orders from the quarterdeck had
+been issued that no man should leave the ship: what was to be done? It
+was a moonlight night. They met, silent as death, between
+decks--daren't speak above a whisper, for fear the officers should
+hear them. His messmate was crying like a child. One proposed one
+thing, one another; but it was all nonsense, and we knew it was, and
+at sunrise poor Tom must die.
+
+At last up jumps one fellow, and cries, "Messmates, I've got it; Tom
+isn't dead yet."
+
+This was the moment Mr. Fountain and Mr. Talboys chose for coming into
+the drawing-room, of course. Mr. Fountain, with a shade of hesitation
+and awkwardness, introduced the Dodds to Mr. Talboys: he bowed a
+little stiffly, and there was a pause. Eve could not repress a little
+movement of nervous impatience. "David is telling us one of his
+nonsensical stories, sir," said she to Mr. Fountain, "and it is so
+interesting; go on, David."
+
+"Well, but," said David, modestly, "it isn't everybody that likes
+these sea-yarns as you do, Eve. No, I'll belay, and let my betters get
+a word in now."
+
+"You are more merciful than most story-tellers, sir," said Talboys.
+
+Eve tossed her head and looked at Lucy, who with a word could have the
+story go on again. That young lady's face expressed general
+complacency, politeness, and _tout m'est egal._ Eve could have
+beat her for not taking David's part. "Doubleface!" thought she. She
+then devoted herself with the sly determination of her sex to trotting
+David out and making him the principal figure in spite of the
+new-corner.
+
+But, as fast as she heated him, Talboys cooled him. We are all great
+at something or other, small or great. Talboys was a first-rate
+freezer. He was one of those men who cannot shine, but can eclipse.
+They darken all but a vain man by casting a dark shadow of trite
+sentences on each luminary. The vain man insults them directly, and so
+gets rid of them.
+
+Talboys kept coming across honest enthusiastic David with little
+remarks, each skillfully discordant with the rising sentiment. Was he
+droll, Talboys did a bit of polite gravity on him; was he warm in
+praise of some gallant action, chill irony trickled on him from T.
+
+His flashes of romance were extinguished by neat little dicta,
+embodying sordid and false, but current views of life. The gauze wings
+of eloquence, unsteeled by vanity, will not bear this repeated dabbing
+with prose glue, so David collapsed and Talboys conquered--"spell"
+benumbed "charm." The sea-wizard yielded to the petrifier, and "could
+no more," as the poets say. Talboys smiled superior. But, as his art
+was a purely destructive one, it ended with its victim; not having an
+idea of his own in his skull, the commentator, in silencing his text,
+silenced himself and brought the society to a standstill. Eve sat with
+flashing eyes; Lucy's twinkled with sly fun: this made Eve angrier.
+She tried another tack.
+
+"You asked David to bring his fiddle," said she, sharply, "but I
+suppose now--"
+
+"Has he brought it?" asked Mr. Fountain, eagerly.
+
+"Yes, he has; I made him" (with a glance of defiance at Talboys).
+
+Mr. Fountain rang the bell directly and sent for the fiddle. It came.
+David took it and tuned it, and made it discourse. Lucy leaned a
+little back in her chair, wore her "_tout m'est egal_ face," and
+Eve watched her like a cat. First her eyes opened with a mild
+astonishment, then her lips parted in a smile; after a while a faint
+color came and went, and her eyes deepened and deepened in color, and
+glistened with the dewy light of sensibility.
+
+A fiddle wrought this, or rather genius, in whose hand a jews-harp is
+the lyre of Orpheus, a fiddle the harp of David, a chisel a hewer of
+heroic forms, a brush or a pen the scepter of souls, and, alas! a nail
+a picklock.
+
+Inside every fiddle is a soul, but a coy one. The nine hundred and
+ninety-nine never win it. They play rapid tunes, but the soul of
+beautiful gayety is not there; slow tunes, very slow ones, wherein the
+spirit of whining is mighty, but the sweet soul of pathos is absent;
+doleful, not nice and tearful. Then comes the Heaven-born fiddler,*
+who can make himself cry with his own fiddle. David had a touch of
+this witchcraft. Though a sound musician and reasonably master of his
+instrument, he could not fly in a second up and down it, tickling the
+fingerboard and scratching the strings without an atom of tone, as the
+mechanical monkeys do that boobies call fine players.
+
+     * This is a definition of the Heaven-born fiddler by Pate
+     Bailey, a gypsy tinker and celestial violinist. Being asked
+     for a test of proficiency on that instrument, he replied
+     that no man is a fiddler "till he can gar himsel greet wi a
+     feddle."
+
+     "Great Orpheus played so well he moved Old Nick,
+      But these move nothing but their fiddlestick."*
+
+     * See how unjust satire is! Don't they move their finger-
+     nails?
+
+But he could make you laugh and crow with his fiddle, and could make
+you jump up, aetat. 60, and snap your fingers at old age and
+propriety, and propose a jig to two bishops and one master of the
+rolls, and, they declining, pity them without a shade of anger, and
+substitute three chairs; then sit unabashed and smiling at the past;
+and the next minute he could make you cry, or near it. In a word he
+could evoke the soul of that wonderful wooden shell, and bid it
+discourse with the souls and hearts of his hearers.
+
+Meantime Lucy Fountain's face would have interested a subtle student
+of her sex.
+
+Her sensibility to music was great, and the feeling strains stole into
+her nature, and stirred the treasures of the deep to the surface. Eve,
+a keen if not a profound observer, was struck by the rising beauty of
+this countenance, over which so many moods chased one another. She
+said to herself: "Well, David is right, after all; she is a lovely
+girl. Her features are nothing out of the way. Her nose is neither one
+thing nor the other, but her expression is beautiful. None of your
+wooden faces for me. And, dear heart, how her neck rises! La! how her
+color comes and goes! Well, I do love the fiddle myself dearly; and
+now, if her eyes are not brimming; I could kiss her! La! David," cried
+she, bursting the bounds of silence, "that is enough of the tune the
+old cow died of; take and play something to keep our hearts up--do."
+
+Eve's good-humor and mirth were restored by David's success, and now
+nothing would serve her turn but a duet, pianoforte and violin. Miss
+Fountain objected, "Why spoil the violin?" David objected too, "I had
+hoped to hear the piano-forte, and how can I with a fiddle sounding
+under my chin?" Eve overruled both peremptorily.
+
+"Well, Miss Dodd, what shall we select? But it does not matter; I feel
+sure Mr. Dodd can play _a livre ouvert."_
+
+"Not he," said Eve, hypocritically, being secretly convinced he could.
+"Can you play 'a leevre ouvert,' David?"
+
+"Who is it by, Miss Fountain?" Lucy never moved a muscle.
+
+After a rummage a duet was found that looked promising, and the
+performance began. In the middle David stopped.
+
+"Ha! ha! David's broke down," shrieked Eve, concealing her uneasiness
+under fictitious gayety. "I thought he would."
+
+"I beg your pardon," explained David to Miss Fountain, "but you are
+out of time."
+
+"Am I?" said Lucy, composedly.
+
+"And have been, more or less, all through."
+
+"David, you forget yourself."
+
+"No, no; set me right, by all means, Mr. Dodd. I am not a hardened
+offender."
+
+"Is it not just possible the violin may be the instrument that is out
+of time?" suggested Talboys, insidiously.
+
+"No," said David, simply, "I was right enough."
+
+"Let us try again, Mr. Dodd. Play me a few bars first in exact time.
+Thank you. Now."
+
+"All went merry as a marriage bell" for a page and a half; then David,
+fiddling away, cried out, "You are getting too fast; 'ri tum tiddy,
+iddy ri tum ti;" then, by stamping and accenting very strongly, he
+kept the piano from overflowing its bounds. The piece ended. Eve
+rubbed her hands. "Now you'll catch it, Mr. David!"
+
+"I am afraid I gave you a great deal of trouble, Mr. Dodd."
+
+_"En revanche,_ you gave us a great deal of pleasure," put in Mr.
+Talboys.
+
+Lucy turned her head and smiled graciously. "But piano-forte players
+play so much by themselves, they really forget the awful importance of
+time."
+
+"I profit by your confession that they do sometimes play by
+themselves," said Mr. Talboys. "Be merciful, and let us hear you by
+yourself."' Eve turned as red as fire.
+
+David backed the request sincerely.
+
+Lucy played a piece composed expressly for the piano by a pianist of
+the day. David sat on her left hand and watched intently how she did
+it.
+
+When it was over, Talboys did a bit of rapture; Eve another.
+
+"That is playing."
+
+"I would not have believed it if I had not seen it done," said David.
+"Eve, you should have seen her beautiful fingers thread in and out
+among the keys; it was like white fire dancing; and as for her hand,
+it is not troubled with joints like ours, I should say."
+
+"The music, Mr. Dodd," said Lucy, severely.
+
+"Oh, the music! Well, I could hardly take on me to say. You see I
+heard it by the eye, and that was all in its favor; but I should say
+the music wasn't worth a button."
+
+"David!"
+
+"How you run off with one's words, Eve! I mean, played by anybody but
+her. Why, what was it, when you come to think? Up and down the gamut,
+and then down and up. No more sense in it than _a b c_--a
+scramble to the main-masthead for nothing, and back to no good. I'd as
+lief see you play on the table, Miss Fountain."
+
+"Poor Moscheles!" said Lucy, dryly.
+
+"Revenge is in your power," said Talboys; "play no more; punish us all
+for this one heretic."
+
+Lucy reflected a moment; she then took from the canterbury a thick old
+book. "This was my mother's. Her taste was pure in music, as in
+everything. I shall be sorry if you do not _all_ like this,"
+added she, softly.
+
+It was an old mass; full, magnificent chords in long succession,
+strung together on a clear but delicate melody. She played it to
+perfection: her lovely hands seemed to grasp the chords. No fumbling
+in the base; no gelatinizing in the treble. Her touch, firm and
+masterly, yet feminine, evoked the soul of her instrument, as David
+had of his, and she thought of her mother as she played. These were
+those golden strains from which all mortal dross seems purged. Hearing
+them so played, you could not realize that he who writ them had ever
+eaten, drunk, smoked, snuffed, and hated the composer next door. She
+who played them felt their majesty and purity. She lifted her beaming
+eye to heaven as she played, and the color receded from her cheek; and
+when her enchantment ended she was silent, and all were silent, and
+their ears ached for the departed charm.
+
+Then she looked round a mute inquiry.
+
+Talboys applauded loudly.
+
+But the tear stood in David's eye, and he said nothing.
+
+"Well, David," said Eve, reproachfully, "I'm sure if that does not
+please you--"
+
+"Please me," cried David, a little fretfully; "more shame for me if it
+does not. Please is not the word. It is angel music, I call it--ah!"
+
+"Well, you need not break your heart for that: he is going to cry--ha!
+ha!"
+
+"I'm no such thing," cried David, indignantly, and blew his
+nose--promptly, with a vague air of explanation and defiance.
+
+But why the male of my species blows its nose to hide its sensibility
+a deeper than I must decide.
+
+Mr. Talboys for some time had not been at his ease. He had been
+playing too, and an instrument he hated--second fiddle. He rose and
+joined Mr. Fountain, who was sitting half awake on a distant sofa.
+
+"Aha!" thought Eve, exulting, "we have driven him away."
+
+Judge her mortification when Lucy, after shutting the piano, joined
+her uncle and Mr. Talboys. Eve whispered David: "Gone to smooth him
+down: the high and mighty gentleman wasn't made enough of."
+
+"Every one in their turn," said David, calmly; "that is manners. Look!
+it is the old gentleman she is being kind to. She could not be unkind
+to anyone, however."
+
+Eve put her lips to David's ear: "She will be unkind to you if you are
+ever mad enough to let her see what I see," said she, in a cutting
+whisper.
+
+"What do you see? More than there is to see, I'll wager," said David,
+looking down.
+
+"Ah! that is the way with young men, the moment they take a fancy;
+their sister is nothing to them, their best friend loses their
+confidence."
+
+"Don't ye say that, Eve--now don't say that!"
+
+"No, no, David, never mind me. I am cross. And if you saw a sore heart
+in store for anyone you had a regard for, wouldn't you be cross? Young
+men are so stupid, they can't read a girl no more than Hebrew. If she
+is civil and affable to them, oh, they are the man directly, when,
+instead of that, if it was so, she would more likely be shy and half
+afraid to come near them. David, you are in a fool's paradise. In
+company, and even in flirtation, all sorts meet and part again; but it
+isn't so with marriage. There 'it is beasts of a kind that in one are
+joined, and birds of a feather that came together.' Like to like,
+David. She is a fine lady and she will marry a fine gentleman, and
+nothing else, with a large income. If she knew what has been in your
+head this month past, she would open her eyes and ask if the man was
+mad."
+
+"She has a right to look down on me, I know," murmured David, humbly;
+"but" (his eye glowing with sudden rapture) "she doesn't--she
+doesn't."
+
+"Look down on you! You are better company than she is, or anyone she
+can get in this-out-of-the-way place; it is her interest to be civil
+to you. I am too hard upon her. She is a lady--a perfect lady--and
+that is why she is above giving herself airs. No, David, she is not
+the one to treat us with disrespect, if we don't forget ourselves. But
+if ever you let her see that you are in love with her, you will get an
+affront that will make your cheek burn and my heart smart--so I tell
+you."
+
+"Hush! I never told you I was in love with her."
+
+"Never told me? Never told me? Who asked you to tell me? I have eyes,
+if you have none."
+
+"Eve," said David imploringly, "I don't hear of any lover that she
+has. Do you?"
+
+"No," said Eve carelessly. "But who knows? She passes half the year a
+hundred miles from this, and there are young men everywhere. If she
+was a milkmaid, they'd turn to look at her with such a face and figure
+as that, much more a young lady with every grace and every charm. She
+has more than one after her that we never see, take my word."
+
+Eve had no sooner said this than she regretted it, for David's face
+quivered, and he sighed like one trying to recover his breath after a
+terrible blow.
+
+What made this and the succeeding conversation the more trying and
+peculiar was, that the presence of other persons in the room, though
+at a considerable distance, compelled both brother and sister, though
+anything but calm, to speak _sotto voce._ But in the history of
+mankind more strange and incongruous matter has been dealt with in an
+undertone, and with artificial and forced calmness.
+
+"My poor David!" said Eve sorrowfully; "you who used to be so proud,
+so high-spirited, be a man! Don't throw away such a treasure as your
+affection. For my sake, dear David, your sister's sake, who does love
+you so very, very dearly!"
+
+"And I love you, Eve. Thank you. It was hard lines. Ah! But it is
+wholesome, no doubt, like most bitters. Yes. Thank you, Eve. I do
+admire her v-very much," and his voice faltered a little. "But I am a
+man for all that, and I'll stand to my own words. I'll never be any
+woman's slave."
+
+"That is right, David."
+
+"I will not give hot for cold, nor my heart for a smile
+or two. I can't help admiring her, and I do hope she will
+be--happy--ah!--whoever she fancies. But, if I am never to command
+her, I won't carry a willow at my mast-head, and drift away from
+reason and manhood, and my duty to you, and mother, and myself."
+
+"Ah! David, if you could see how noble you look now. Is it a promise,
+David? for I know you will keep your word if once you pass it."
+
+"There is my hand on it, Eve."
+
+The brother and sister grasped hands, and when David was about to
+withdraw his, Eve's soft but vigorous little hand closed tighter and
+kept it firmer, and so they sat in silence.
+
+"Eve."
+
+"My dear!"
+
+"Now don't you be cross."
+
+"No, dear. Eve is sad, not cross; what is it?
+
+"Well, Eve--dear Eve."
+
+"Don't be afraid to speak your mind to me--why should you?"
+
+"Well, then, Eve, now, if she had not some little kindness for me,
+would she be so pleased with these thundering yarns I keep spinning
+her, as old as Adam, and as stale as bilge-water? You that are so
+keen, how comes it you don't notice her eyes at these times? I feel
+them shine on me like a couple of suns. They would make a statue pay
+the yarn out. Who ever fancied my chat as she does?"
+
+"David," said Eve, quietly, "I have thought of all this; but I am
+convinced now there is nothing in it. You see, David, mother and I are
+used to your yarns, and so we take them as a matter of course; but the
+real fact is, they are very interesting and very enticing, and you
+tell them like a book. You came all fresh to this lady, and, as she is
+very quick, she had the wit to see the merit of your descriptions
+directly. I can see it myself _now._ All young women like to be
+amused, David, and, above all, _excited;_ and your stories are
+very exciting; that is the charm; that is what makes her eyes fire;
+but if that puppy there, or that book-shelf yonder, could tell her
+your stories, she would look at either the puppy or the book-stand
+with just the same eyes she looks on you with, my poor David."
+
+"Don't say so, Eve. Let me think there is some little feeling for me
+inside those sweet eyes, that look so kind on me--"
+
+"And on me, and on everybody. It is her manner. I tell you she is so
+to all the world. She isn't the first I've met. Trust me to read a
+woman, David; what can you know?"
+
+"I know nothing; but they tell me you can fathom one another better
+than any man ever could," said David, sorrowfully.
+
+"'David, just now you were telling as interesting a story as ever was.
+You had just got to the thrilling part."
+
+"Oh, had I? What was I saying?"
+
+"I can't tell you to the very word; I am not your sweetheart any more
+than she is; but one of the sailors was in danger of his life, and so
+on. You never told me the story before; I was not worth it. Well, just
+then does not that affected puppy choose his time to come meandering
+in?"
+
+"Puppy! I call him a fine gentleman."
+
+"Well, there isn't so much odds. In he comes; your story is broken off
+directly. Does she care? No, she has got one of her own set; he is not
+a very bright one; he is next door to a fool. No matter; before he
+came, to judge by her crocodile eyes, she was hot after your story;
+the moment he did come, she didn't care a pin for you _nor_ your
+story. I gave her more than one opening to bring it on again; not she.
+I tell you, you are nothing but a _pass_ time;* you suit her turn
+so long as none of her own set are to be had. If she would leave you
+for such a jackanapes as that, what would she do for a real gentleman?
+such a man as she is a woman, for instance, and as if there weren't
+plenty such in her own set--oh, you goose!"
+
+     * I write this word as the lady thought proper to pronounce
+     it.
+
+David interrupted her. "I have been a vain fool, and it is lucky no
+one has seen it but you," and he hid his face in his hands a moment;
+then, suddenly remembering where he was, and that this was an attitude
+to attract attention, he tried to laugh--a piteous effort; then he
+ground his teeth and said: "Let us go home. All I want now is to get
+out of the house. It would have been better for me if I had never set
+foot in it."
+
+"Hush! be calm, David, for Heaven's sake. I am only waiting to catch
+her eye, and then we'll bid them good-evening."
+
+"Very well, I'll wait"; and David fixed his eyes sadly and doggedly on
+the ground. "I won't look at her if I can help it," said he,
+resolutely, but very sadly, and turned his head away.
+
+"Now, David," whispered Eve.
+
+David rose mechanically and moved with his sister toward the other
+group. Miss Fountain turned at their approach. Somewhat to David's
+surprise, Eve retreated as quickly as she had advanced.
+
+"We are to stay."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"She made me a signal."
+
+"Not that I saw," said David, incredulously.
+
+"What! didn't you see her give me a look?"
+
+"Yes, I did. But what has that to do with it?"
+
+"That look was as much as to say, Please stay a little longer; I have
+something to say to you."
+
+"Good Heavens!"
+
+"I think it is about a bonnet, David. I asked her to put me in the way
+of getting one made like hers. She does wear heavenly bonnets."
+
+"Ay. I did well to listen to you, Eve; you see I can't even read her
+face, much less her heart. I saw her look up, but that was all. How is
+a poor fellow to make out such craft as these, that can signal one
+another a whole page with a flash of the eye? Ah!"
+
+"There, David, he is going. Was I right?"
+
+Mr. Talboys was, in fact, taking leave of Miss Fountain. The old
+gentleman convoyed his friend. As the door closed on them Miss
+Fountain's face seemed to catch fire. Her sweet complacency gave way
+to a half-joyous, half-irritated small energy. She came gliding
+swiftly, though not hurriedly, up to Eve. "Thank you for seeing." Then
+she settled softly and gradually on an ottoman, saying, "Now, Mr.
+Dodd."
+
+David looked puzzled. "What is it?" and he turned to his interpreter,
+Eve.
+
+But it was Lucy who replied: "'His messmate was crying like a child.
+At sunrise poor Tom must die. Then up rose one fellow' (we have not
+any idea who one fellow means in these narratives--have we, Miss
+Dodd?) 'and cried, "I have it, messmates. Tom isn't dead yet."' Now,
+Mr. Dodd, between that sentence and the one that is to follow all that
+has happened in this room was a hideous dream. On that understanding
+we have put up with it. It is now happily dispersed, and we--go ahead
+again."
+
+"I see, Eve, she thinks she would like some more of that China yarn."
+
+"Her sentiments are not so tame. She longs for it, thirsts for it, and
+must and will have it--if you will be so very obliging, Mr. Dodd." The
+contrast between all this singular vivacity of Miss Fountain and the
+sudden return to her native character and manner in the last sentence
+struck the sister as very droll--seemed to the brother so winning,
+that, scarcely master of himself, he burst out: "You shan't ask me
+twice for that, or anything I can give you;" and it was with burning
+cheeks and happy eyes he resumed his tale of bold adventure and skill
+on one side, of numbers, danger and difficulty on the other. He told
+it now like one inspired, and both the young ladies hung panting and
+glowing on his words.
+
+David and Eve went home together.
+
+David was in a triumphant state, but waited for Eve to congratulate
+him. Eve was silent.
+
+At last David could refrain no longer. "Why, you say nothing."
+
+"No. Common sense is too good to be wasted; don't go so fast."
+
+"No. There--I heave to for convoy to close up. Would it be wasted on
+me? ha! ha!"
+
+"To-night. There you go pelting on again."
+
+"Eve, I can't help it. I feel all canvas, with a cargo of angels'
+feathers and sunshine for ballast."
+
+"Moonshine."
+
+"Sun, moon, and stars, and all that is bright by night or day. I'll
+tell you what to do; you keep your head free, and come on under easy
+sail; I'll stand across your bows with every rag set and drawing, so
+then I shall be always within hail."
+
+This sober-minded maneuver was actually carried out. The little
+corvette sailed steadily down the middle of the lane; the great
+merchantman went pitching and rolling across her bows; thus they kept
+together, though their rates of sailing were so different.
+
+Merry Eve never laughed once, but she smiled, and then sighed.
+
+David did not heed her. All of a moment his heart vented itself in a
+sea-ditty so loud, and clear, and mellow, that windows opened, and out
+came nightcapped heads to hear him carol the lusty stave, making night
+jolly.
+
+Meantime, the weather being balmy, Mr. Fountain had walked slowly with
+Mr. Talboys in another direction. Mr. Talboys inquired, "Who were
+these people?"
+
+"Oh, only two humble neighbors," was the reply.
+
+"I never met them anywhere. They are received in the neighborhood?"
+
+"Not in society, of course."
+
+"I don't understand you. Have not I just met them here?"
+
+"That is not the way to put it," said the old gentleman, a little
+confused. "You did not meet them; you did me and my niece the honor to
+dine with us, and the Dodds dropped in to tea--quite another matter."
+
+"Oh, is it?"
+
+"Is it not? I see you have been so long out of England you have
+forgotten these little distinctions; society would go to the deuce
+without them. We ask our friends, and persons of our own class, to
+dinner, but we ask who we like to tea in this county. Don't you like
+her? She is the prettiest girl in the village."
+
+"Pretty and pert."
+
+"Ha! ha! that is true. She is saucy enough, and amusing in
+proportion."
+
+"It is the man I alluded to."
+
+"What, David? ay, a very worthy lad. He is a downright modest,
+well-informed young man."
+
+"I don't doubt his general merits, but let me ask you a serious
+question: his evident admiration of Miss Fountain?"
+
+"His ad-mi-ration of Miss Fountain?"
+
+"Is it agreeable to you?"
+
+"It is a matter of consummate indifference to me."
+
+"But not, I think, to her. She showed a submission to the cub's
+impertinence, and a desire to please instead of putting him down, that
+made me suspect. Do you often ask Mr. Dodd--what a name!--to tea?"
+
+"My dear friend, I see that, with all your accomplishments, you have
+something to learn. You want insight into female character. Now I, who
+must go to school to you on most points, can be of use to you here."
+Then, seeing that Talboys was mortified at being told thus gently
+there was a department of learning he had not fathomed, he added: "At
+all events, I can interpret my own niece to you. I have known her much
+longer than you have."
+
+Mr. Talboys requested the interpreter to explain the pleasure his
+niece took in Mr. Dodd's fiddle.
+
+"Part politeness, part sham. Why, she wanted not to ask them this
+evening, the fiddle especially. I'll give you the clue to Lucy; she is
+a female Chesterfield, and the droll thing is she is polite at heart
+as well. Takes it from her mother: she was something between an angel
+and a duchess."
+
+"Politeness does not account for the sort of partiality she showed for
+these Dodds while I was in the room."
+
+"Pure imagination, my dear friend. I was there; and had so monstrous a
+phenomenon occurred I must have seen it. If you think she could really
+prefer their society to yours, you are as unjust to her as yourself.
+She may have concealed her real preference out of _finesse,_ or
+perhaps she has observed that our inferiors are touchy, and ready to
+fancy we slight them for those of our own rank."
+
+Talboys shrugged his shoulders; he was but half convinced. "Her
+enthusiasm when the cub scraped the fiddle went beyond mere
+politeness."
+
+"Beyond other people's, you mean. Nothing on earth ever went beyond
+hers--ha! ha! ha! To-morrow night, if you like, we will have my
+gardener, Jack Absolom, in to tea."
+
+"No, I thank you. I have no wish to go beyond Mr. and Miss Dodd."
+
+"Oh, only for an experiment. The first minute Jack will be wretched,
+and want to sink through the floor; but in five minutes you will fancy
+Lucy will have made Jack Absolom at home in my drawing-room. He will
+be laying down the law about Jonquilles, and she all sweetness,
+curiosity, and enthusiasm outside--_ennui_ in."
+
+"Can her eyes glisten out of politeness?" inquired Talboys, with a
+subdued sneer.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"They could shed tears, perhaps, for the same motive?" said Talboys,
+with crushing irony.
+
+"Well! Hum! I'd back them at four to seven."
+
+Mr. Talboys was silent, and his manner showed that he was a little
+mortified at a subject turning to joke which he had commenced
+seriously. He must stop this annoyance. He said severely, "It is time
+to come to an understanding with you."
+
+At these words, and, above all, at their solemn tone, the senior
+pricked his ears and prepared his social diplomacy.
+
+"I have visited very frequently at your house, Mr. Fountain."
+
+"Never without being welcome, my dear sir."
+
+"You have, I think, divined one reason of my very frequent visits
+here."
+
+"I have not been vain enough to attribute them entirely to my own
+attractions."
+
+"You approve the homage I render to that other attraction?"
+
+"Unfeignedly."
+
+"Am I so fortunate as to have her suffrage, too?"
+
+"I have no better means of knowing than you have."
+
+"Indeed! I was in hopes you might have sounded her inclinations."
+
+"I have scrupulously avoided it," replied the veteran. "I had no right
+to compromise you upon mere conjecture, however reasonable. I awaited
+your authority to take any move in so delicate a matter. Can you blame
+me? On one side my friend's dignity, on the other a young lady's peace
+of mind, and that young lady my brother's daughter."
+
+"You were right, my dear sir; I see and appreciate your reserve, your
+delicacy, though I am about to remove its cause. I declare myself to
+you your niece's admirer; have I your permission to address her?"
+
+"You have, and my warmest wishes for your success."
+
+"Thank you. I think I may hope to succeed, provided I have a fair
+chance afforded me."
+
+"I will take care you shall have that."
+
+"I should prefer not to have others buzzing about the lady whose
+affection I am just beginning to gain."
+
+"You pay this poor sailor an amazing compliment," said Mr. Fountain, a
+little testily; "if he admires Lucy it can only be as a puppy is
+struck with the moon above. The moon does not respond to all this
+wonder by descending into the whelp's jaws--no more will my niece. But
+that is neither here nor there; you are now her declared suitor, and
+you have a right to stipulate; in short, you have only to say the
+word, and 'exeunt Dodds,' as the play-books say."
+
+"Dodds? I have no objection to the lady. Would it not be possible to
+invite her to tea alone?"
+
+"Quite possible, but useless. She would not stir out without her
+brother."
+
+"She seems a little person likely to give herself airs. Well, then, in
+that case, though as you say I am no doubt raising Mr. Dodd to a false
+importance, still--"
+
+"Say no more; we should indulge the whims of our friends, not attack
+them with reasons. You will see the Dodds no more in my house."
+
+"Oh, as to that, just as you please. Perhaps they would be as well out
+of it," said Talboys, with a sudden affectation of carelessness. "I
+must not take you too far. Good-night."
+
+"Go-o-d night!"
+
+Poor David. He was to learn how little real hold upon society has the
+man who can only instruct and delight it.
+
+Mr. Fountain bustled home, rubbing his hands with delight. "Aha!"
+thought he; "jealous! actually jealous! absurdly jealous! That is a
+good sign. Who would have thought so proud a man could be jealous of a
+sailor? I have found out your vulnerable point, my friend. I'll tell
+Lucy; how she will laugh. David Dodd! Now we know how to manage him,
+Lucy and I. If he freezes back again, we have but to send for David
+Dodd and his fiddle." He bustled home, and up into the drawing-room to
+tell Lucy Mr. Talboys had at last declared himself. His heart felt
+warm. He would settle six thousand pounds on Mrs. Talboys during his
+life and his whole fortune after his death.
+
+He found the drawing-room empty. He rang the bell. "Where is Miss
+Fountain?" John didn't know, but supposed she had gone to her room.
+
+"You don't know? You never know anything. Send her maid to me."
+
+The maid came and courtesied demurely at the door.
+
+"Tell your mistress I want to speak to her directly--before she
+undresses."
+
+The maid went out, and soon returned to say that her mistress had
+retired to rest; but that, if he pleased, she would rise, and just
+make a demi-toilet, and come to him. This smooth and fair-sounding
+proposal was not, I grieve to say, so graciously received as offered.
+"Much obliged," snapped old Fountain. "Her _demi-toilette_ will
+keep me another hour out of my bed, and I get no sleep after dinner
+now _among you._ Tell her to-morrow at breakfast time will do."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+DAVID DODD was so radiant and happy for a day or two that Eve had not
+the heart to throw cold water on him again.
+
+Three days elapsed, and no invitation to Font Abbey; on this his
+happiness cooled of itself. But when day after day rolled by, and no
+Font Abbey, he was dashed, uneasy, and, above all, perplexed. What
+could be the reason? Had he, with his rough ways, offended her? Had
+she been too dignified to resent it at the time? Was he never to go to
+Font Abbey again? Eve's first feeling was unmixed satisfaction. We
+have seen already that she expected no good from this rash attachment.
+For a single moment her influence and reasons had seemed to wean David
+from it; but his violent agitation and joy at two words of kindly
+curiosity from Miss Fountain, and the instant unreasonable revival of
+love and hope, showed the strange power she had acquired over him. It
+made Eve tremble.
+
+But now the Fountains were aiding her to cure this folly. She had read
+them right, had described them to David aright. A wind of caprice had
+carried him and her into Font Abbey; another such wind was carrying
+them out. No event had happened. Mr. and Miss Fountain had been seen
+more than once in the village of late. "They have dropped us, and
+thank Heaven!" said Eve, in her idiomatic way.
+
+She pitied David deeply, and was kinder and kinder to him now, to show
+him she felt for him; but she never mentioned the Font Abbey people to
+him either to praise or blame them, though it was all she could do to
+suppress her satisfaction at the turn their insolent caprice had
+taken.
+
+That satisfaction was soon clouded. This time, instead of rousing
+himself and his pride, David sank into a moody despondency; varied by
+occasional fretfulness. His appetite went, and his bright color, and
+his elastic step. This silent sadness was so new in him, such a
+contrast to his natural temperature, large, genial, and ever cheerful,
+that Eve could not bear it. "I must shake him out of this, at all
+hazards," thought she: yet she put off the experiment, and put it off,
+partly in hopes that David would speak first, partly because she saw
+the wound she would probe was deep, and she winced beforehand for her
+patient.
+
+Meantime, prolonged doubt and suspense now goaded with their
+intolerable stings the active spirit that chill misgivings had at
+first benumbed. Spurred into action by these torments, David had
+already watched several days in the neighborhood of Font Abbey,
+determined to speak to Miss Fountain, and find out whether he had
+given her offense; for this was still his uppermost idea. Having
+failed in this attempt at an interview with her, he was now meditating
+a more resolute course, and he paced the little gravel-walk at home
+debating in himself the pros and cons. Raising his head suddenly, he
+saw his sister walking slowly at the other end of the path. She was
+coming toward him, but her eyes were bent thoughtfully on the ground.
+David slipped behind some bushes, not to have his unhappiness and his
+meditations interrupted. The lover and the lunatic have points in
+common.
+
+He had been there some time when a grave little voice spoke quietly to
+him from the lawn. "David, I want to speak to you." David came out.
+
+"Here am I."
+
+"Oh, I knew where you were. Don't do that again, sir, please, or
+you'll catch it."
+
+"Oh, I didn't think you saw me," said David, somewhat confusedly.
+
+"What has that to do with it, stupid? David," continued she, assuming
+a benevolent, cheerful, and somewhat magnificent nonchalance, "I
+sometimes wonder you don't come to me with your troubles. I might
+advise you as well as here and there one. But perhaps you think now,
+because I am naturally gay, I am not sensible. You mustn't go by that
+altogether. Manner is very deceiving. The most foolishly conducted men
+and women ever I met were as grave as judges, and as demure as cats
+after cream. Bless you, there is folly in every heart. Your slow ones
+bottle it up for use against the day wisdom shall be most needed. My
+sort let it fizz out at their mouths in their daily talk, and keep
+their good sense for great occasions, like the present."
+
+"Have we drifted among the proverbs of Solomon?" inquired David,
+dryly. "No need to make so many tacks, Eve. Haven't I seen your sense
+and profited by it--I and one or two more? Who but you has steered the
+house this ten years, and commanded the lubberly crew?"*
+
+     * The reader must not be misled by the familiar phraseology
+     of these two speakers to suppose that anything the least
+     droll or humorous was intended by either of them at any part
+     of this singular dialogue. Their hearts were sad and their
+     faces grave.
+
+"And then again, David, where the heart is concerned, young women are
+naturally in advance of young men."
+
+"God knows. He made them both. I don't."
+
+"Why, all the world knows it. And then, besides, I am five years older
+than you.
+
+"So mother says; but I don't know how to believe it. No one would say
+so to look at you."
+
+"I'll tell you, David. Folk that have small features look a deal
+younger than their years; and you know poor father used to say my face
+was the pattern of a flat-iron. So nobody gives me my age; but I am
+five good years older than you, only you needn't go and tell the town
+crier."
+
+"Well, Eve?"
+
+"Well, then, put all these together, and now, why not come to me for
+friendly advice and the voice of reason?"
+
+"Reason! reason! there are other lights besides reason."
+
+"Jack-o'-lantern, eh? and Will-o'-the-wisp."
+
+"Eve, nobody can advise me that can't feel for me. Nobody can feel for
+me that doesn't know my pain; and you don't know that, because you
+were never in love."
+
+"Oh, then, if I had ever been in love, you would listen."
+
+"As I would to an angel from Heaven."
+
+"And be advised by me."
+
+"Why not? for then you'd be competent to advise; but now you haven't
+an idea what you are talking about."
+
+"What a pity! Don't you think it would be as well if you were not to
+speak to me so sulky?"
+
+"I ask your pardon; Eve. I did not mean to offend you."
+
+"Davy, dear--for God's sake what is this chill that has come between
+you and me? You are a man. Speak out like a man."
+
+David turned his great calm, sorrowful eye full upon her.
+
+"Well, then, Eve, if the truth must be told, I am disappointed in
+you."
+
+"Oh, David."
+
+"A little. You are not the girl I took you for. You know which way my
+fancy lies, yet you keep steering me in the teeth of it; then you see
+how down-hearted I am this while, but not a word of comfort or hope
+comes from you, and me almost dried up for want of one."
+
+"Make one word of it, David--I am not a sister to you."
+
+"I don't say that, but you might be kinder; you are against me just
+when I want you with me the most."
+
+"Now this is what I like," said Eve, cheerfully; "this is plain
+speaking. So now it is my turn, my lad. Do you remember Balaam and his
+ass?"
+
+"Sure," said David; but, used as he was to Eve's transitions, he
+couldn't help staring a little at being carried eastward ho so
+suddenly.
+
+"Then what did the ass say when she broke silence at last?"
+
+"Well, you know, Eve; I take shame to say I don't remember her very
+words, but the tune of them I do. Why, she sang out, 'Avast there! it
+is first fault, so you needn't be so hasty with your thundering rope's
+end."'
+
+"There! You'd make a nice commentator. You haven't taken it up one
+bit; you are as much in the dark as our parson. He preached on her the
+very Sunday you came home, and it was all I could do to help whipping
+up into the pulpit, and snatching away his book, and letting daylight
+in on them."
+
+David was scandalized at the very idea of such a breach of discipline.
+"That is ridiculous," said he; "one can't have two skippers in a
+church any more than in a ship, brig, or bark. But you can let
+daylight in on me."
+
+"I mean. To begin: the ass was in the right and Balaam in the wrong;
+so what becomes of your 'first fault?' She was frugal of her words,
+but every syllable was a needle; the worst is, some skins are so thick
+our needles won't enter 'em. Says she, 'This seven years you have
+known me; always true to the bridle and true to you. Did ever I
+disobey you before? Then why go and fancy I do it without some great
+cause that you can't see?' Then the man's eyes were open, and he saw
+it was destruction his old friend had run back from, and galled his
+foot to save his life; so of course he thanked her, and blessed her
+then. Not he. He was too much of a man."
+
+"Ay, ay, I see; but what is the moral? for I have no heart to expound
+riddles."
+
+"Oh, I'll tell you the moral sooner than you'll like, perhaps. The ass
+is a type, David. In Holy Writ you know almost everything is a type.
+When a thing means one thing and stands for another, that's a type."
+
+"Ducks can swim--at least I've heard so. Now if you could tell me what
+she is a type of?"
+
+"What, the ass? Don't you know? Why, of women, to be sure--of us poor
+creatures of burden, underrated and misunderstood all the world over.
+And Balaam he stands for men, and for you at the head of them," cried
+she, turning round with flashing eyes on David; "you have known me and
+my true affection more than seven years, or seventeen. I carried you
+in my arms when you were a year old and I was six. You were my little
+curly-headed darling, and have been from that day to this. Did ever I
+cross you, or be cold or unkind to you, till the other day?"
+
+"No, Eve, no, no, no! Come sit beside me.
+
+"Then shouldn't you have said, 'Don't slobber _me;_ I won't have
+it; you and I are bad friends.' Oughtn't you to have said, 'Eve could
+never give herself the pain of crossing me' (no, there isn't a man in
+the world with gumption enough to say that--that is a woman's
+thought); but at least you might have said, 'She sees rocks ahead that
+I can't.' (Balaam couldn't see the drawn sword ahead, but there it
+was.) it was for you to say, 'My sister Eve would not change from gay
+to grave all at once, and from indulging me in everything to thwarting
+me and vexing me, unless she saw some great danger threatening your
+peace of mind, your career in life, your very reason, perhaps.'"
+
+"I have been to blame, Eve; but speak out and let me know the worst.
+You have heard something against her character? Speak plain out, for
+Heaven's sake!"
+
+"It is all very well of you to say speak plain out, but there are
+things girls don't like to speak about to any man. But after what you
+said, that you would listen to me if I--so it is my duty. You will see
+my face red enough in about a minute. Two years ago I couldn't have
+done this even for you. It is hard I must expose my own folly--my own
+crime."
+
+"Why, Eve, lass, how you tremble! Drop it now! drop it!"
+
+"Hold your tongue!" said Eve, sharply, but in considerable agitation.
+"It is too late now, after something you have said to me. If I didn't
+speak out now, I should be like that bad man you told us of, who let
+out the beacon light when the wind was blowing hard on shore. Listen,
+David, and take my words to heart. The road you are on now I have been
+upon, only I went much farther on it than you shall go." She resumed
+after a short pause: "You remember Henry Dyke?"
+
+"What, the young clergyman, who used to be always alongside you at our
+last anchorage?"
+
+"Yes. He was just such a man as Miss Fountain is a woman. He was but a
+dish of skim-milk, yet he could poison my life."
+
+Then Eve told the story of her heart. She described her lover as he
+appeared to her in the early days of courtship, young, handsome, good,
+noble in sentiment, and warm and tender in manner. Halcyon days--not a
+speck to be seen on love's horizon.
+
+Then she delineated the fine gradations by which the illusion faded,
+too slowly and too late for her to withdraw the love she had conceived
+for his person at that time when person and mind seemed alike
+superior. She painted with the delicate touch of her sex the portrait
+of a man and a scholar born to please all the world, and incapable of
+condensing his affections; a pious flirt, no longer stimulated to
+genuine ardor by doubts of success, but too kind-hearted to pain her
+beyond measure when a little factitious warmth from time to time would
+give her hours of happiness, keep her, on the whole, content, and,
+above all, retain her his. Then she shifted the mirror to herself, the
+fiery and faithful one, and showed David what centuries of torture a
+good little creature like this Dyke, with its charming exterior, could
+make a quick, and ardent, and devoted nature suffer in a year or two.
+Came out in her narrative, link by link, the gentle delicious
+complacency of the first period, the chill airs that soon ruffled it,
+the glowing hopes, the misgivings that dashed them; then the
+diminution of confidence, more complexing and exasperating than its
+utter loss; the alternations of joy and doubt, the fever and the ague
+of the wounded spirit; then the gusts of hatred followed by deeper
+love; later still, the periodical irritation at hopes long deferred,
+and still gleams of bliss between the paroxysms, so that now, as the
+vulgar say in their tremendous Saxon, she "spent her time between
+heaven and hell"; last of all, the sickness and recklessness of the
+wornout and wearied heart over which melancholy or fury impended.
+
+It was at this crisis when, as she could now see on a calm retrospect,
+her mind was distempered, a new and terrible passion stepped upon the
+scene--jealousy. A friend came and whispered her, "Mr. Dyke was
+courting another woman at the same time, and that other woman was
+rich."
+
+"David, at that word a flash of lightning seemed to go through me, and
+show me the man as he really was."
+
+"The mean scoundrel, to sell himself for money!!"
+
+"No, David, he would not have sold himself, with his eyes open, any
+more than perhaps your Miss Fountain would; but what little heart he
+had he could give to any girl that was not a fright. He was a
+self-deceiver and a general lover, and such characters and their
+affections sink by nature to where their interest lies. Iron is not
+conscious, yet it creeps toward the loadstone. Well, while she was
+with me I held up and managed to question her as coldly as I speak to
+you now, but as soon as she left me I went off in violent hysterics."
+
+"Poor Eve!"
+
+"She had not been gone an hour when doesn't the Devil put it into
+_his_ head to send me a long, affectionate letter, and in the
+postscript he invited himself to supper the same afternoon. Then I got
+up and dried my eyes, and I seemed to turn into stone with resolution.
+'Come!' I said, 'but don't think you shall ever go back to her. Your
+troubles and mine shall end to-night.'"
+
+"Why, Eve, you turn pale with thinking of it. I fear you have had
+worse thoughts pass through your mind than any man is worth."
+
+"David, your blood was in my veins, and mine is in yours.
+
+"If I didn't think so! The Lord deliver us from temptation! We don't
+know ourselves nor those we love."
+
+"He had driven me mad."
+
+"Mad, indeed. What! had you the heart to see the man bleed to
+death--the man you had loved--you, my little gentle Eve?"
+
+"Oh no, no; no blood!" said Eve, with a shudder. "Laudanum!"
+
+"Good God!"
+
+"Oh, I see your thought. No, I was not like the men in the newspapers,
+that kill the poor woman with a sure hand, and then give themselves a
+scratch. It was to be one spoonful for him, but two for me. I can't
+dwell on it" (and she hid her face in her hands); "it is too terrible
+to remember how far I was misled. Who, think you, saved us both?"
+David could not guess.
+
+"A little angel--my good angel, that came home from sea that very
+afternoon. When I saw your curly head, and your sweet, sunburned face
+come in at the door, guess if I thought of putting death in the pot
+after that? Ah! the love of our own flesh and blood, that is the
+love--God and good angels can smile on it."
+
+"Yes; but go on," said David, impatiently.
+
+"It is ended, David. They say a woman's heart is a riddle, and perhaps
+you will think so when I tell you that when he had brought me down to
+this, and hadn't died for it, I turned as cold as ice to him that
+minute, once and forever. I looked back at the precipice, and I hated
+him. Ay, from that evening he was like the black dog to my eye. I used
+to slip anywhere to hide out of his way--just as you did out of mine
+but now."
+
+"Can't you forget that? Well, to be sure. Well?"
+
+"So then (now you may learn what these skim-milk cheeses are made of),
+when he found he was my aversion, he fell in love with me again as hot
+as ever; tried all he could think of to win me back; wrote a letter
+every day; came to me every other day; and when he saw it was all over
+for good between us he cried and bellowed till my hate all went, and
+scorn came in its place. Next time we met he played quite another
+part--the calm, heart-broken Christian; gave me his blessing; went
+down on his knees, and prayed a beautiful prayer, that took me off my
+guard and made me almost respect him; then went away, and quietly
+married the girl with money; and six months after wrote to me he was
+miserable, dated from the vicarage her parents had got him."
+
+"Now, you know, if he wasn't a parson, d--n me if I'd turn in to-night
+till I'd rope's-ended that lubber!"
+
+"As if I'd let you dirty your hands with such rubbish! I sent the note
+back to him with just one line, 'Such a fool as you are has no right
+to be a villain.' There, David, there is your poor sister's life. Oh,
+what I went through for that man! Often I said, is Heaven just, to let
+a poor, faithful, loving girl, who has done no harm, be played with on
+the hook, and tortured hot and cold, day after day, month after month,
+year after year, as I was? But now I see why it was permitted; it was
+for your sake, that you might profit by my sharp experience, and not
+fling your heart away on frozen mud, as I did;" and, happy in this
+feminine theory of Divine justice, Eve rested on her brother a look
+that would have adorned a seraph, then took him gently round the neck
+and laid her little cheek flat to his.
+
+She felt as if she had just saved a beloved life.
+
+Who can estimate the value of a happiness so momentary, yet so holy?
+
+Presently looking up, she saw David's face illuminated. "What is it?"
+she asked joyously; "you look pleased."
+
+David was "pleased because now he was sure she could feel for him, and
+would side with him."
+
+"That I do; but, David, as it is all over between you and her--"
+
+"All over? Am I dead then?"
+
+Eve gasped with astonishment: "Why, what have I been telling you all
+this for?"
+
+"Who should you tell your trouble to but your own brother? Why,
+Eve--ha! ha!--you don't really see any likeness between your case and
+mine, do you? You are not so blind as to compare her with that
+thundering muff?"
+
+"They are brother and sister, as we are," was the reply. "Ever since I
+saw you looked her way, my eye has hardly been off her, and she is
+Henry Dyke in petticoats."
+
+"I don't thank you for saying that. Well, and if she is, what has that
+to do with it? I am not a woman. I am not forced to lie to waiting for
+a wind, as the girls are. I am a man. I can work for the wish of my
+heart, and, if it does not come to meet me, I can overhaul it." Eve
+was a little staggered by this thrust, but she was not one to show an
+antagonist any advantage he had obtained. "David," said she, coldly,
+"it must come to one of two things; either she will send you about
+your business in form, which is a needless affront for you and me
+both, or she will hold you in hand, and play with you and drive you
+_mad._ Take warning; remember what is in our blood. Father was as
+well as you are, but agitation and vexation robbed him of his reason
+for a while; and you and I are his children. Milk of roses creeps
+along in that young lady's veins, but fire gallops in ours. Give her
+up, David, as she has you. She has let you escape; don't fly back like
+a moth to the candle! You shan't, however; I won't let you."
+
+"Eve," said David, quietly, "you argue well, but you can't argue light
+into dark, nor night into day. She is the sun to me. I have seen her
+light; and now I can't live without it."
+
+He added, more calmly: "It is her or none. I never saw a girl but this
+that I wanted to see twice, and I never shall."
+
+"But it is that which frightens me for you, David. Often I have wished
+I could see you flirt a bit and harden your heart."
+
+"And break some poor girl's."
+
+"Oh, hang them! they always contrive to pass it on. What do I care for
+girls! they are not my brother. But no, David, I can't believe you
+will go against me and my judgment after the insult she has put on
+you. No more about it, but just you choose between my respect and this
+wild-goose chase."
+
+"I choose both," said David, quietly. "Both you shan't have"; and,
+with this, up bounced Eve, and stood before him bristling like a
+cat-o'mountain. David tried to soothe her--to coax her--in vain; her
+cheek was on fire, and her eyes like basilisks'. It was a picture to
+see the pretty little fury stand so erect and threatening, great David
+so humble and deprecating, yet so dogged. At last he took out his
+knife; it was not one of your stabbing-knives, but the sort of
+pruning-knife that no sailor went without in those days. "Now," said
+he, sadly, "take and cut my head off--cut me to pieces, if you will--I
+won't wince or complain; and then you will get your way; but while I
+do live I shall love her, and I can't afford to lose her by sitting
+twiddling my thumbs, waiting for luck. I'll try all I know to win her,
+and if I lose her I won't blame her, but myself for not finding out
+how to please her; and with that I'll live a bachelor all my days for
+her, or else die, just as God wills--I shan't much care which."
+
+"Oh, I know you, you obstinate toad," said Eve, clinching her teeth
+and her little hand. Then she burst out furiously: "Are you quite
+resolved?"
+
+"Quite, dear Eve," said David, sadly--but somehow it was like a rock
+speaking.
+
+"Then there is my hand," said Eve, with an instant transition to
+amiable cheerfulness that dazzled a body like a dark lantern flying
+open. Used as David was to her, it stupefied him; he stared at her,
+and was all abroad. "Well, what is the wonder now?" inquired Eve;
+"there are but two of us. We must be together somehow or another must
+we not? You won't be wise with me; well, then, I'll be a fool with
+you. I'll help you with this girl."
+
+"Oh, my dear Eve!"
+
+"You won't gain much. Without me you hadn't the shadow of a chance,
+and with me you haven't a chance, that is all the odds."
+
+"I have! I have! you have taken away my breath with joy;" and David
+was quite overcome with the turn Eve had taken in his favor.
+
+"Oh, you need not thank me," said Eve, tossing her head with a
+hypocrisy all her own. "It is not out of affection for you I do it,
+you may be very sure of that; but it looks so ridiculous to see my
+brother slipping out of my way behind a tree as soon as he sees me
+coming--oh! oh! oh! oh!" And a violent burst of sobs and tears
+revealed how that incident had rankled in this stoical little heart.
+
+David, with the tear in his own eye, clasped her in his arms, and
+kissed her and coaxed her and begged her again and again to forgive
+him. This she did internally at the first word; but externally no;
+pouted and sobbed till she had exacted her full tribute, then cleared
+up with sudden alacrity and inquired his plans.
+
+"I am going to call at Font Abbey, and find out whether I have
+offended her."
+
+Eve demurred, "That would never do. You would betray yourself and
+there would be an end of you. How good I am not to let you go. No,
+I'll call there. I shall quietly find out whether it is her doing that
+we have not been invited so long, or whose it is. You stay where you
+are. I won't be a minute."
+
+When the minute was thirty-five, David came under her window and
+called her. She popped her head out: "Well?"
+
+"What are you doing?"
+
+"Putting on my bonnet."
+
+"Why, you have been an hour."
+
+"You wouldn't have me go there a fright, would you?"
+
+At last she came down and started for Font Abbey, and David was left
+to count the minutes till her return. He paced the gravel sailor-wise,
+taking six steps and then turning, instead of going in each direction
+as far as he could. He longed and feared his sister's return. One
+hour--two hours elapsed; still he walked a supposed deck on the little
+lawn--six steps and then turn. At last he saw her coming in the
+distance; he ran to meet her; but when he came up with her he did not
+speak, but looked wistfully in her face, and tried hard to read it and
+his fate.
+
+"Now, David, don't make a fool of yourself, or I won't tell you."
+
+"No, no. I'll be calm, I will--be--calm."
+
+"Well, then, for one thing, she is to drink tea with us this evening."
+
+"She? Who? What? Where? Oh!"
+
+"Here."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+MR. FOUNTAIN sat at breakfast opposite his niece with a twinkle set in
+his eye like a cherry-clack in a tree, relishing beforehand her
+smiles, and blushes, and gratitude to him for having hooked and played
+his friend, so that now she had but to land him. "I'll just finish
+this delicious cup of coffee," thought he, "and then I'll tell you, my
+lady." While he was slowly sipping said cup, Lucy looked up and said
+graciously to him, "How silly Mr. Talboys was last night--was he not,
+dear?"
+
+"Talboys? silly? what? do you know? Why, what on earth do you mean?"
+
+"Silly is a harsh word--injudicious, then--praising me _a tort et a
+travers,_ and was downright ill-bred--was discourteous to another
+of our guests, Mr. Dodd."
+
+"Confound Mr. Dodd! I wish I had never invited him."
+
+"So do I. If you remember, I dissuaded you."
+
+"I do remember now. What! you don't like him, either?"
+
+"There you are mistaken, dear. I esteem Mr. Dodd highly, and Miss
+Dodd, too, in spite of her manifest defects; but in making up parties,
+however small, we should choose our guests with reference to each
+other, not merely to ourselves. Now, forgive me, it was clear
+beforehand that Mr. Talboys and the Dodds, especially Miss Dodd, would
+never coalesce; hence my objection in inviting them; but you overruled
+me--with a rod of iron, dear."
+
+"Yes; but why? Because you gave me such a bad reason; you never said a
+word about this incongruity."
+
+"But it was in my mind all the time."
+
+"Then why didn't it come out?"
+
+"Because--because something else would come out instead. As if one
+gave one's real reasons for things!! Now, uncle dear, you allow me
+great liberties, but would it have been quite the thing for me to
+lecture you upon the selection of your own _convives?"_
+
+"Why, you have ended by doing it."
+
+Lucy colored. "Not till the event proves--not till--"
+
+"Not till your advice is no longer any use."
+
+Lucy, driven into a corner, replied by an imploring look, which had
+just the opposite effect of argument. It instantly disarmed the old
+boy; he grinned superior, and spared his supple antagonist three
+sarcasms that were all on the tip of his tongue. He was rewarded for
+his clemency by a little piece of advice, delivered by his niece with
+a sort of hesitating and penitent air he did not understand one bit,
+eyes down upon the cloth all the time.
+
+It came to this. He was to listen to her suggestions with a prejudice
+in their favor if he could, and give them credit for being backed by
+good reasons; at all events, he was never to do them the injustice to
+suppose they rested on those puny considerations she might put forward
+in connection with them.
+
+"Silly" is a term carrying with it a certain promptness and decision;
+above all, it was a very remarkable word for Lucy to use. "The girl is
+a martinet in these things," thought he; "she can't forgive the least
+bit of impoliteness. I suppose he snubbed Jack Tar. What a crime! But
+I had better let this blow over before I go any farther." So he
+postponed his disclosure till to-morrow.
+
+But, before to-morrow came, he had thought it over again, and
+convinced himself it would be the wiser course not to interfere at all
+for the present, except by throwing the young people constantly
+together. He had lived long enough to see that, in nine cases out of
+ten, husband and wife might be defined "a man and a woman that were
+thrown a good deal together--generally in the country." A marries B,
+and C D; but, under similar circumstances, i.e., thrown
+together, A would have married D, and C B. This applies to puppy dogs,
+male and female, as well as to boys and girls.
+
+Perhaps a personal feeling had some little share, too, in bringing him
+to the above conclusion. He was a bit of a schemer--liked to play
+puppets. At present, his niece and friend were the largest and finest
+puppets he had on hand; the day he should bring them to a mutual,
+rational understanding, the puppet-strings would fall from his hands
+and the puppets turn independent agents. He represented to Talboys
+that Lucy was young and very innocent in some respects; that marriage
+did not seem to run in her head as in most girls'; that a precipitate
+avowal might startle her, and raise unnecessary difficulties by
+putting her on her guard too early in their acquaintance. "You have no
+rival," he concluded; "best win her quietly by degrees. Undermine the
+coy jade! she is worth it." Cool Talboys acquiesced. David had spurred
+him out of his pace one night; but David was put out of the way; the
+course was clear; and, as he could walk over it now, why gallop?
+
+Childish as his friend's jealousy of this poor sailor had seemed to
+Mr. Fountain, still, the idea once started, he could not help
+inspecting Lucy to see how she would take his sudden exclusion from
+these parties. Now Lucy missed the Dodds very much, and was surprised
+to see them invited no more. But it was not in her character to
+satisfy a curiosity of this sort by putting a point-blank question to
+the person who could tell her in two words. She was one of those
+thorough women whose instinct it is to find out little things, not to
+ask about them. When day after day passed by, and the Dodds were not
+invited, it flashed through her mind, first, that there must be some
+reason for this; secondly, that she had only to take no notice, and
+the reason, if any, would be sure to pop out. She half suspected
+Talboys, but gave him no sign of suspicion. With unruffled demeanor
+and tranquil patience, she watched demurely for disclosures from her
+uncle or from him like the prettiest little velvet panther conceivable
+lying flat in a blind path, deranging nobody, but waiting with amiable
+tranquillity for her friends to come her way.
+
+Thus, under the smooth surface of the little society at Font Abbey
+_finesse_ was cannily at work. But the surface of every society
+is like the skin of a man--hides a deal of secret machinery.
+
+Here were two undermining a "coy jade" (perhaps, on the whole, Uncle
+Fountain, it might be more prudent in you not to call her that name
+again; you see she is my heroine, and I am a man that could cut you
+out of this story, and nobody miss you), and the coy jade watching for
+the miners like a sweet little velvet panther, and, to fling away
+metaphor, an honest heart set aching sore, hard by, for having come
+among such a lot.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+A FABLE tells us a fowler one day saw sitting in tree a wood-pigeon.
+This is a very shy bird, so he had to creep and maneuver to get within
+gunshot unseen, unheard. He stole from tree to tree, and muffled his
+footsteps in the long grass so adroitly that, just as he was going to
+pull the trigger, he stepped light as a feather on a venomous snake.
+It bit; he died.
+
+This is instructive and pointed, but a trifle severe.
+
+What befell Uncle Fountain, busy enmeshing his cock and hen pheasant,
+netting a niece and a friend, went to the same tune, but in a lower
+key, as befitted a domestic tale.*
+
+     * "Domestic," you are aware, is Latin for "tame." Ex.,
+     "domestic fowl," "domestic drama," "story of domestic
+     intereet," "or chronicle of small beer,"
+
+Among his letters at breakfast-time came one which he had no sooner
+read than he flung on the table and went into a fury. Lucy sat aghast;
+then inquired in tender anxiety what was the matter.
+
+Angry explanations are apt to be dark ones. "It is a confounded
+shame--it is a trick, child--it is a do."
+
+"Ah! what is that, uncle? 'a do'?--'a do'?"
+
+"Yes, 'a do.' He knew I hated figures; can't bear the sight of them,
+and the cursed responsibility of adding them up right."
+
+"But who knew all this?"
+
+"He came over here bursting with health, and asked me to be one of his
+executors--mind, one. I consented on a distinct understanding I was
+never to be called upon to act. He was twenty years my junior, and
+like so much mahogany. It was just a form; I did it to soothe a man
+who called himself my friend, and set his mind at rest."
+
+"But, uncle dear, I don't understand even now. Can it be possible that
+a friend has abused your good nature?"
+
+"A little," with an angry sneer.
+
+"Has he betrayed your confidence?"
+
+"Hasn't he?"
+
+"Oh dear! What has he done?"
+
+"Died, that is all," snarled the victim.
+
+"Oh, uncle! Poor man!"
+
+"Poor man, no doubt. But how about poor me? Why, it turns out I am
+sole executor."
+
+"But, dear uncle, how could the poor soul help dying?"
+
+"That is not candid, Lucy," said Mr. Fountain, severely. "Did ever I
+say he could help dying? But he could help coming here under false
+colors, a mahogany face, and trapping his friend."
+
+"Uncle, what is the use--your trying to play the misanthrope with me,
+who know how good you are, in spite of your pretenses to the contrary?
+To hide your emotion from your poor niece, you go into a feigned fury,
+and all the time you know how sorry you are your poor friend is gone."
+
+"Of course I am. He has secured one mourner. He might have died to all
+eternity if he hadn't nailed me first. See how selfish men are, and
+bad-hearted into the bargain. I believe that young fellow had been to
+a doctor, and found out he was booked in spite of his mahogany cheeks;
+so then he rides out here and wheedles an unguarded friend--I'm
+wired--I'm trapped--I'm snared."
+
+Lucy set herself to soothe her injured relative. "You must say to
+yourself, _'C'est un petit matheur.'"_
+
+"Tell myself a falsehood? What shall I gain by that? Let me tell you,
+it is these minor troubles that send a man to Bedlam. One breeds
+another, till they swarm and buzz you distracted, and sting you dead.
+_'Petit maiheur!'_ it is a greater one than you have ever
+encountered since you have been under _my_ wing."
+
+"It is, dear, it is; but I hope to encounter much greater ones before
+I am your age."
+
+"The deuce you do!"
+
+"Or else I shall die without ever having lived--a vegetable, not a
+human being."
+
+"Bombast! a 'flower' your lovers will call you."
+
+"And men of sense a 'weed.' But don't let us discuss me. What I wish
+to know is the nature of your annoyance, dear." He explained to her
+with a groan that he should have to wind up all the affairs of an
+estate of 8,000 pounds a year, pay the annual and other encumbrances,
+etc., etc.
+
+"Well, but, dear, you will be quite at home in this, you have such a
+turn for business."
+
+"For my own," shrieked the old bachelor, angrily, "not for other
+people's. Why, Lucy, there will be half a dozen separate accounts, all
+of four figures. It is not as if executors were paid. And why are they
+not paid? There ought to be a law compelling the estates they
+administer to pay them, and handsomely. It never occurred to me
+before, but now I see the monstrous iniquity of amateur executors,
+amateur trustees, amateur guardians. They take business out of the
+hands of those who live by business. I sincerely regret my share in
+this injustice. If a snob works, he always expects to be paid! how
+much more a gentleman. He ought to be paid double--once for the work,
+and once for giving up his natural ease. Here am I, guardian gratis to
+a cub of sixteen--the worst age--done school, and not begun Oxford and
+governesses."
+
+"Tutors, you mean."
+
+"Do I? Is it the tutors the whelps fall in love with, little goose?
+Stop; I'll describe my 'interesting charge,' as the books call it. He
+has hair you could not tell from tow. He has no eyebrows--a little
+unfledged slippery horror. He used to come in to dessert, and turn all
+our stomachs except his silly father's."
+
+"Poor orphan!"
+
+"When you speak to him he never answers--blushes instead."
+
+"Poor child!"
+
+"He has read of eloquent blushes, and thinks there is no need to reply
+in words--blushing must be such an interesting and effective
+substitute."
+
+"Poor boy, he wants a little judicious kindness. We will have him
+here."
+
+"Here!" cried the old gentleman, with horror. "What! make Font Abbey a
+kennel!!! No, Lucy, no, this house is sacred; no nuisances admitted
+here. Here, on this single spot of earth, reigns comfort, and shall
+reign unruffled while I live. This is the temple of peace. If I must
+be worried, I must, but not beneath this hallowed roof."
+
+This eloquence, delivered as it was with a sudden solemnity, told upon
+the mind.
+
+"Dear Font Abbey," murmured Lucy, half closing her eyes, "how well you
+describe it! Societies of the cosey; the walls seem padded, the
+carpets velvet, and the whole structure care-proof; all is quiet
+gayety and sweet punctuality. Here comfort and good humor move by
+clock-work; that is Font Abbey. Yet you are right; if you were to be
+seen in it no more, it would lose the life of its charm, dear Uncle
+Fountain."
+
+"Thank you, my dear--thank you. I do like to see my friends about me
+comfortable, and, above all, to be comfortable myself. The place is
+well enough, and I am bitterly sorry I must leave it, and sorry to
+leave you, my dear."
+
+"Leave us? not immediately?"
+
+"This very day. Why, the funeral is to be this week--a grand
+funeral--and I have to order it all. Then there are relatives to be
+invited--thirty letters--others to be asked to the reading of the
+will. It will be one hurry-scurry till we get the house clear of the
+corpse and the vultures; then at it I must go, head-foremost, into
+fathomless addition--subtraction--multiplication, and vexation. 'Oh,
+now forever farewell, something or other--farewell content!' You talk
+of misanthropy. I shall end there. Lucy."
+
+"Yes, dear uncle."
+
+"I never--do--a good-natured thing--but--I--bitterly--repent it. By
+Jupiter! the coffee is cold; the first time that has befallen me since
+I turned off seven servants that battled that point of comfort with
+me."
+
+Lucy suggested that the coffee might have cooled a little while he was
+being so kind as to answer her question at unusual length. Then she
+came round to him bringing a fresh supply of fragrant slow poison, and
+sat beside him and soothed him till his ire went down, and came the
+calm depression of a man who, accustomed for many years to do just
+what he liked, found himself suddenly obliged to do something he did
+not like--a thing out of the groove of his habits too.
+
+Sure enough, he left Font Abbey the same day, with a promise, exacted
+by Lucy, that he should make her the partner of all his vexations by
+writing to her every day.
+
+"And, Lucy," said the old Parthian, as he stepped into his
+traveling-carriage, "my friend Talboys will miss me; pray be kind to
+him while I am away. He is a particular friend of mine. I may be
+wrong, but I do like men of known origin--of old family."
+
+"And you are right. I will be kind to him for your sake, dear."
+
+A slight cold confined Lucy to the house for three or four days after
+her uncle's departure (by the by, I think this must have been the
+reason of David's ill success in his endeavors to get an interview
+with her out of doors).
+
+Thus circumstanced, ladies rummage.
+
+Lucy found in a garret a chest containing a quantity of papers and
+parchments, and the beautifulest dust. No such dust is made in these
+degenerate days. Some of these MSS. bore recent dates, and were easily
+legible, though not so easily intelligible, being written as Gratiano
+spake.* The writers had omitted to put the idea'd words into red ink,
+so they had to be picked out with infinite difficulty from the
+multitude of unidea'd ones.
+
+     * "Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing . . . . his
+     reasons are as three grains of wheat in two bushels of
+     chaff."
+
+Other of the MSS., more ancient, wore a double veil. They hid their
+sense in verbiage, and also in narrow Germanifled letters, farther
+deformed by contractions and ornamental flourishes, whose joint effect
+made a word look like a black daddy-long-legs, all sprawling fantastic
+limbs and the body a dot.
+
+The perusal of these pieces was slow and painful; it was like walking
+or slipping about among broken ruins overgrown with nettles. But then
+Uncle Fountain was so anxious to hook on to the Flunkeys--oh, Ciel!
+what am I saying?--the Funteyns, and his direct genealogical evidence
+had so completely broken down. She said to herself, "Oh dear! if I
+could find something among these old writings, and show it him on his
+return." She had them all dusted and brought down, and a table-cloth
+laid on a long table in the drawing-room, and spelled them with a
+good-humored patience that belonged partly to her character, partly to
+her sex. A female who undertakes this sort of work does not skip as we
+should; the habit of needle-work in all its branches reconciles that
+portion of mankind to invisible progress in other matters.
+
+Besides this, they are naturally careful, and, above all, born to
+endure, they carry patience into nearly all they do.*
+
+     * At about the third rehearsal of a new play our actresses
+     bring the author's words into their heads, our actors are
+     still all abroad, and at the first performance the breaks-
+     down are sure to be among the males; the female jumenta
+     carry their burden (be it of pig-lead) safe from wing to
+     wing.
+
+Lucy made her way manfully through all the well-written
+circumlocution, and in a very short time considering; but the antique
+[Greek] tried her eyes too much at night, so she gave nearly her whole
+day to it, for she was anxious to finish all before her uncle's
+return. It was a curious picture--Venus immersed in musty records.
+
+One day she had studied and spelled four mortal hours, when a visitor
+was suddenly announced--Miss Dodd. That young lady came briskly in at
+the heels of the servant and caught Lucy at her work. After the first
+greeting, her eye rested with such undisguised curiosity on the
+"mouldy records" that Lucy told her in general terms what she was
+trying to do for her uncle. "La!" said Eve, "you will ruin your
+eye-sight; why not send them over to us? I will make David read them."
+
+"And his eyesight?"
+
+"Oh, bless you, he has a knack at reading old writing. He has made a
+study of it."
+
+"If I thought I was not presuming too far on Mr. Dodd's good nature, I
+would send one or two of them."
+
+"Do; and I will make him draw up a paper of the contents; I have seen
+him at this sort of work before now. But there, la! I suppose you know
+it is all vanity."
+
+"I do it to please my poor uncle."
+
+"And very good you are. But what the better will the poor old
+gentleman be? We are here to act our own part well; we can't ride up
+to heaven on our great-grandfather."
+
+These maxims were somewhat coldly received, so Eve shifted her ground.
+"After all, I don't know why I should be the one to say that, for my
+own name is older than your uncle's a pretty deal."
+
+Lucy looked puzzled; then suddenly fancying she had caught Eve's
+meaning, she said: "That is true. Hail mother of mankind!!" and bowed
+her head with graceful reverence.
+
+Eve stared and colored, not knowing what on earth her companion meant.
+I am afraid it must be owned that Eve steadily eschewed books and
+always had. What little book-learning she had came to her filtered
+through David, and by this channel she accepted it willingly, even
+sought it at odd times, when there was no bread, pudding, dress,
+theology, scandal, or fun going on. She turned it off by a sudden
+inquiry where Mr. Fountain was; "they told me in the village he was
+away." Now several circumstances combined to make Lucy more
+communicative than usual. First, she had been studying hard; and,
+after long study, when a lively person comes to us, it is a great
+incitement to talk. Pitiful by nature, I spare you the "bent bow."
+Secondly, she was a little anxious lest her uncle's sudden neglect
+should have mortified Miss Dodd, and a neutral topic handled at length
+tends to replace friendly feeling without direct and unpleasant
+explanations. She therefore answered every question in full; told her
+that her uncle had lost a dear friend; that he was executor and
+guardian to the poor boy, now entirely an orphan. Her uncle, with his
+usual zeal on behalf of his friends; had gone off at once, and
+doubtless would not return till he had fulfilled in every respect the
+wishes of the deceased.
+
+To this general sketch she added many details, suppressing the
+misanthropy Mr. Fountain had exhibited or affected at the first
+receipt of the intelligence.
+
+In short, angelic gossip. Earthly gossip always backbites, you know.
+Eve missed something somehow, no doubt the human or backbiting
+element; still, it was gossip, sacred gossip, far dearer than
+Shakespeare to the female heart, and Eve's eyes glowed with pleasure
+and her tongue plied eager questions.
+
+With all this, such instinctive artists are these delicate creatures,
+both these ladies were secretly in ambush, Lucy to learn whether Eve
+and David were hurt or surprised at not being invited of late, and why
+she and he had not called since; Eve to find out what was the cause
+David and she had been so suddenly dropped: was it Lucy's doing or
+whose?
+
+Each lady being bent on receiving, not on making revelations, nothing
+transpired on either side. Seeing this, Eve became impatient and made
+a bold move.
+
+"Miss Fountain," said she, "you are all alone. I wish you would come
+over to us this evening and have tea."
+
+Lucy did not immediately reply. Eve saw her hesitation. "It is but a
+poor place," said she, "to ask you to."
+
+"I will come," said the lady, directly. "I will come with great
+pleasure."
+
+"Will seven be too early for you?"
+
+"Oh, no, I don't dine now my uncle is away. I call luncheon dinner."
+
+"Perhaps, six, then?"
+
+"Pray let me come at your usual hour. Why derange your family for one
+person?" Six o'clock was settled.
+
+"I must take some of this rubbish with me," said Eve; "come along, my
+dears"; and with an ample and mock enthusiastic gesture she caught up
+an armful of manuscripts.
+
+"The servant shall take them over for you."
+
+"Oh, bother the servant; I am my own servant--if you will lend me a
+pin or two."
+
+Lucy drew six pins out from different parts of her dress. Eve noticed
+this, but said nothing. She pinned up her apron so as to make an
+enormous pocket, and went gayly off with the "spoils of time."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+"Is that what you call being calm, David? Let me alone--don't slobber
+me. I am sure I wish she had said, 'No.' If I had thought she would
+come I would never have asked her."
+
+"You would, Eve; you would, for love of me."
+
+"Who knows? Perhaps I might. I am more indulgent than kind."
+
+"Eve, do tell me all. Is she well? does she come of her own good will?
+Dear Eve!"
+
+"Well, I'll tell you: first we had a bit of a talk for a blind like;
+and her uncle is away; so then I asked her plump to come to tea. Well,
+David, first she looked 'No'--only for a single moment, though; she
+soon altered her mind, and so then, the moment it was to be 'Yes,' she
+cleared up, and you would have thought she had been asked to the
+king's banquet. Ah! David, my lad, you have fallen into good
+hands--you have launched your heart on a deeper ocean than ever your
+ship sailed on."
+
+David took no notice. He was in a state of exaltation for one thing,
+and, besides, Eve's simile was sent to the wrong address; we
+terrestrials fear water in proportion to its depth, but these mariners
+dread their native element only when it is shallow.
+
+David now kept asking in an excited way what they could do for her.
+"What could they get to do her honor? Wouldn't she miss the luxuries
+of her fine place?"
+
+"Now you be quiet, David; we need not put ourselves about, for she
+will be the easiest girl to please you have ever seen here; or, if she
+isn't, she'll act it so that you'll be none the wiser. However, you
+can go and buy some flowers for me."
+
+"That I will; we have none good enough for her here."
+
+"And, David, tea under the catalpa, as we always do on fine nights."
+
+"You don't mean that."
+
+"Ah! but I do. These fine ladies are all for novelties. Now I'm much
+mistaken if this one has ever had her tea out of doors in all her born
+days. What! do you think our little stuffy room would be any treat to
+her, after the drawing-room at Font Abbey? Come, you be off till
+half-past five; you'll fidget yourself and fidget me else."
+
+David recognized her superiority, obeyed and vanished.
+
+Eve, having got rid of him, showed none of the insouciance she had
+recommended. She darted into the kitchen, bared her arms, and made
+wheaten cakes with unequaled rapidity, the servant looking on with
+demure admiration all the while. These put into the oven, she got her
+keys and put out the silver teapot, cream jug and sugar basin, things
+not used every day, I can tell you; item, the best old china tea
+service; item, some rare tea, of which David had brought home a small
+quantity from China. At six o'clock Miss Fountain came; a footman
+marched twenty yards behind her. She dismissed him at the door, and
+Eve invited her at once into the garden. There David joined them, his
+heart beating violently. She put out her hand kindly and calmly, and
+shook hands with him in the most unembarrassed way imaginable. At the
+touch of her soft hand every fiber in him thrilled and the color
+rushed into his face. At this a faint blush tinged her own, but no
+more than the warm welcome she was receiving might account for.
+
+They seated her in a comfortable chair under the catalpa. Presently
+out came a nice, clean maid, her white neck half hidden, half
+revealed, by plain, unfigured muslin worn where the frock ended. She
+put the tea things on the table, and courtesied to Lucy, who returned
+her salute by a benignant smile. Out came another stouter one with the
+kettle, hung it from a hoop between two stout sticks, and lighted a
+fire she had laid underneath, retiring with a parting look at the
+kettle as soon as it hissed. Then returned maid one with bread, and
+wheaten cakes, and fruit, butter nice and hard from the cellar, and
+yellow cream, and went off smiling.
+
+A gentle zeal seemed to animate these domestics, as if they, also, in
+relative proportions, gave the fete, or at least contributed good
+will. Lucy's quick eye caught this. It was new to her.
+
+The tea was soon made, and its Oriental fragrance mingled with the
+other odors that filled the balmy air. Gay golden broken lights
+flickered in patches on the table, the china cups, the ladies'
+dresses, and the grass, all but in one place, where the cool deep
+shadow lay undisturbed around the foot of the tree-stem. Looking up to
+see whence the flickering gold came that sprinkled her white hand,
+Lucy saw one of the loveliest and commonest things in nature. The sky
+was blue--the sun fiery--the air potable gold outside the tree, so
+that, as she looked up, the mellow green leaves of the catalpa, coming
+between her and the bright sky and glowing air, shone like transparent
+gold--staircase upon staircase of great exotic translucent leaves,
+with specks of lovely blue sky that seemed to come down and perch
+among the top branches. Charming as these sights were, contrast
+doubled their beauties; for all these dimples of bright blue and
+flakes of translucent gold were eyed from the cool and from the deep
+shade.
+
+The light, it is true, came down and danced on the turf here and
+there, but it left its heat behind through running the gauntlet of the
+myriad leaves. Over Lucy's head hung by a silk line from one of the
+branches a huge globe of humble but fragrant flowers; they were, in
+point of fact, fastened with marvelous skill all round a damp sponge,
+but she did not know that. Thus these simple hosts honored their
+lovely guest. And while these sights and smells stole into her deep
+eyes and her delicate nostrils, "Fiddle, David," said Eve, loftily,
+and straightway a simple mellow tune rang sweetly on the cheerful
+chords--a rustic, dulcet, and immortal ditty, in tune with summer and
+afternoon, with gold-checkered grass, and leaves that slumbered, yet
+vibrated, in the glowing air.
+
+A bright, dreamy hour; the soul and senses floated gently in color,
+fragrance, melody, and great calm. "Each sound seemed but an echo of
+tranquillity."
+
+Lucy looked up and absorbed the scene, then closed her eyes and
+listened; and presently her lips parted gradually in so ravishing a
+smile, her eyes remaining closed, that even Eve, who saw her in her
+true light, a terrible girl come there to burn and destroy David,
+remaining cool as a cucumber, could hardly forbear seizing and
+mumbling her.
+
+
+In certain companies you shall see a boisterous cordiality, which at
+bottom is as hollow as diplomacy; but there is a modest geniality
+which is to society what the bloom is to the plum.
+
+And this charm Lucy found in her hosts of the catalpa. For this very
+reason that they were her hosts, their manner to her changed a little,
+and becomingly; they made no secret that it was a downright pleasure
+to them to have her there. They petted her, and showed her so much
+simple kindness, that what with the scene, the music, and her
+companions' goodness, the coy bud opened--timidly at first--but in a
+way it never had expanded at Font Abbey.
+
+She even developed a feeble sense of fun, followed suit demurely when
+Eve came out sprightly, laughed like a brook gurgling to Eve's peal of
+bells, and lo and behold, when the two girls got together, and faced
+the man, strong in numbers, a favorite trick, backed her ally as
+cowards back the brave, and set her on to sauce David. They cast
+doubts upon his skill in navigation. They perplexed him with
+treacherous questions in geography, put with an innocent affectation
+of a humble desire for information. In short, they played upon him
+lightly as they touch the piano. And Eve carolled a song, and David
+accompanied her on the fiddle; and at the third verse Lucy chimed in
+spontaneously with a second, and the next verse David struck in with a
+base, and the tepid air rang with harmony, and poor David thrilled
+with happiness. His heart felt his voice mingle and blend with hers,
+and even this contact was delicious to his imagination. And they were
+happy. But all must end; the shades of evening came down, and the
+pleasant little party broke up, and, as John had not come, David asked
+leave to escort her home. Oh no, she could not think of giving him
+that trouble; so saying, she went home with him. When they were alone,
+his deep love made him timid and confused. He walked by her side, and
+did not speak to her. She waited with some surprise at this silence,
+and then, as he was shy, she talked to him, uttered many airy
+nothings, and then put questions to him. "Did he always drink tea out
+of doors?"
+
+"On fine nights in summer. Eve settled all such matters."
+
+"Have you not a voice?"
+
+"I have a voice, but no vote. She is skipper ashore."
+
+"Oh, is she? Who taught her how delicious it is to drink tea out of
+doors?"
+
+David did not know--fancied it was her own idea. "Did you really like
+it, Miss Fountain?"
+
+"Like it, Mr. Dodd! It was Elysium. I never passed a sweeter evening
+in my life."
+
+David colored all over. "I wish I could believe that."
+
+"Was it the tulip-tree, or the violin, or was it your conversation,
+Mr. Dodd, I wonder?" asked she demurely, looking mock-innocent in his
+face.
+
+"It was your goodness to be so easily pleased," said Dodd, with a gush
+that made her color. She smiled, however. "Well, that is one way of
+looking at things," said she. _"Entre nous,_ I think Miss Dodd
+was the enchantress."
+
+"Eve is capital company, for that matter."
+
+"Indeed she is; you must be very happy together. Your mutual affection
+is very charming, Mr. Dodd, but sometimes it almost makes me sad.
+Forgive me! I have no brother."
+
+"You will never want one to love you a thousand times better than a
+brother can love."
+
+"Oh, shan't I?" said the lady, and opened her eyes.
+
+"No; and there is more than one that worships the ground you tread on
+at this moment; but you know that."
+
+"Oh, do I?" She opened her eyes still wider.
+
+David longed to tell how he loved her, but dared not. He looked
+wistfully at her face. It was quite calm and had suddenly became a
+little reserved. He felt he was on new and dangerous ground; he sighed
+and was silent. He turned away his face. When this involuntary sigh
+broke from him she turned her head a little and looked at him. He felt
+her eye dwell on him, and his cheeks burned under it.
+
+The next moment they were at Font Hill, and Lucy seemed to David to
+hesitate whether to give him her hand at parting or not.
+
+She did give him her hand, though not so freely, David thought, as she
+had done on his own little lawn three hours before, and this dashed
+his spirits. It seemed to him a step lost, and he had hoped to gain a
+step somehow by walking home with her. He felt like one who has
+undertaken to catch some skittish timorous thing, that, if you stand
+still, will come within a certain small but safe distance, but you
+must not move a step toward it, or, whir, away it is. He went slowly
+home, his heart warm and cold by turns; warm when he remembered the
+sweet hours he had just spent, and her sweet looks and heavenly tones,
+every one of which he saw and heard again; cold when he thought of the
+social distance that separated them, and the hundred chances to one
+against his love. Then he said to himself: "Time was I thought I could
+never bring a yard down from the foretop to the deck, but I mastered
+that. Time was I thought I could never work out a logarithm without a
+formula, but I mastered that. Time was the fiddle beat me so I was
+ready to cry over it, but at last I learned to make it sing, and now I
+can make her smile with it (God bless her!) instead of stopping her
+ears. I can hardly mind the thing that didn't beat me dead for a long
+while, but I persevered and got the upper hand. Ay, but this is higher
+and harder than them all--a hundred times harder and higher.
+
+"I'll hold my course, let the wind blow high or low, and if I can't
+overhaul the wish of my heart, well, I'll carry her flag to the last.
+I'll die a bachelor for her sake, as sure as you are the moon, my
+lass, and you the polar star, and from this hour I'll never look at
+you, but I'll make believe it is her I am looking up at; for she is as
+high above me, and as bright as you are. God bless her! and to think I
+never even said good-night to her! I stood there like a mummy." And
+David reproached himself for his unkindness.
+
+
+Lucy, on entering the drawing-room, was surprised to find it blazing
+with candles, but she was more surprised at what she saw seated calmly
+in an armchair--Mrs. Bazalgette. Lucy stood transfixed; the audacious
+intruder laughed at her astonishment; the next moment they
+intertwined, and fell to kissing one another with tender violence.
+
+"Well, love, the fact is, I was passing here on my way home from
+Devonshire, and I wanted particularly to speak to you, so I thought I
+would venture just to pop in for a passing call, and lo! I find the
+old ogre is absent, and not expected back for ever so long, so I have
+installed myself at his Font Abbey, partly out of love for you, dear,
+partly, I confess it, out of hate to him. You will write and tell me
+his face when he comes home and hears I have been living and enjoying
+myself in his den. I ordered my imperial into his bedroom. I took it
+for granted that would be the only comfortable one in his house."
+
+"Aunt Bazalgette!" cried Lucy, turning pale; "oh, aunt, what will
+become of us?"
+
+"Don't be frightened; the gray-haired monster that dyes his whiskers,
+and gets him up to look only sixty, interposed and forbade the
+consecration."
+
+"I am glad of it. You shall sleep in mine, dear, and I will go into
+the east room. It is a sweet little room."
+
+"Is it? then why not put me there?" Lucy colored a little. "I think
+mine would suit you better, dear, because it is larger and airier,
+and--"
+
+"I see. As you please; you know I never make difficulties."
+
+"And how long have you been here, aunt?"
+
+"About three hours."
+
+"Three hours, and not send for me! I was only in the village. Did no
+one tell you?"
+
+"Yes; but you know it is not my way to make a fuss and put people out.
+How could I tell? You might be agreeably employed, and I was sure of
+you before bedtime."
+
+Mighty-fine! but the truth is, she came to Font Abbey to pry. She had
+heard a vague report about Lucy and a gentleman.
+
+She was very glad to find Lucy was out; it gave her an opportunity.
+She sent for Lucy's maid to help her unpack a dress or two--thirteen.
+This girl was paid out of Lucy's estate, but did not know that. Mrs.
+Bazalgette handed her her wages, and that gives an influence. The wily
+matron did not trust to that alone. In unpacking she gave the girl a
+dress and several smaller presents, and, this done, slowly and
+cautiously pumped her. Jane, to fulfill her share of a bargain, which,
+though never once alluded to, was perfectly understood between both
+the parties, told her all she knew and all she conjectured; told her,
+in particular, how constantly Mr. Talboys was in the house, and how,
+one night, the old gentleman had walked part of the way home with him,
+"which Mr. Thomas says he didn't think his master would do it for the
+king, mum!" and had come in all of a flurry, and sent up for miss, and
+swore* awful when she couldn't come because she was abed. "So you may
+depend, mum, it is so; leastways, the gentlemen they are willing. We
+talk it over mostly every day in the servants' hall, mum, and we are
+all of a mind so fur; but whether it will come to a wedding, that we
+haven't a settled yet. It's miss beats us; she is like no other young
+lady ever I came anigh. A man or woman--it is all the same to her--a
+kind word for everybody, and pass on. But I do really think she likes
+her own side of the house a trifle the best."
+
+     *The ladies of the bedchamber will embellish. After all, it
+     is their business.
+
+"And there you don't agree with her, Jane?"
+
+"Well, mum--being as we are alone--now is it natural? But Mr. Thomas
+he says, 'The cold ones take the first offer that comes when there is
+money ahind it. It isn't us they wants,' says he. I told him I should
+think not the likes of him--'but our house and land,' says he, 'and
+hopera box and cetera.' 'But I don't think that of our one,' says I;
+'bless you, she is too high-minded.' But what I think, mum, is, she
+wouldn't say 'no' to her uncle; her mouth don't seem made for saying
+no, especially to him; and he is bent on Talboys, mum, you take my
+word."
+
+To return to the drawing-room: Mrs. Bazalgette, after the above
+delicate discussion, sat there in ambush, knowing more of Lucy's
+affairs than Lucy knew. Her next point was to learn Lucy's sentiments,
+and to find whether she was deliberately playing false and breaking
+her promise, vide.
+
+"Well, Lucy, any lovers yet?"
+
+"No, aunt."
+
+"Take care, Lucy, a little bird whispers in my ear."
+
+"Then it is a humming-bird," and Lucy pouted. "Now, aunt, did you
+really come to Font Abbey to tease me about such nonsense
+as--as--gentlemen?" and Lucy looked hurt.
+
+"Here's an actress for you," thought Mrs. Bazalgette; but she calmly
+dropped the subject, and never recurred to it openly all the evening,
+but lay secretly in watch, and put many subtle but seeming innocent
+questions to her niece about her habits, her uncle's guest, whether
+her uncle kept a horse for her, whether he bought it for her, etc.,
+etc.
+
+The next morning Mrs. Bazalgette breakfasted in bed, during which
+process she rang her bell seven times. Lucy received at the
+breakfast-table a letter from her uncle.
+
+
+"MY DEAR NIECE--The funeral was yesterday, and, I flatter myself, well
+performed: there were five-and-twenty carriages. After that a
+luncheon, in the right style, and then to the reading of the will. And
+here I shall surprise you, but not more than I was myself: I am left
+5,000 pounds consols. My worthy friend, whose loss we are called on so
+suddenly to deplore, accompanied this bequest in his will with many
+friendly expressions of esteem, which I have always studied and shall
+study to deserve. He bequeathed to me also, during minority, the care
+of his boy, the heir to this fine property, which far exceeds the
+value I had imagined. There is a letter attached to the will; in
+compliance with it Arthur is to go to Cambridge, but not until he has
+been well prepared. He will therefore accompany me to Font Abbey
+to-morrow, and I must contrive somehow or other to find him a
+mathematical tutor in the neighborhood. There is a handsome allowance
+made out of the estate for his board, etc., etc.
+
+"He is an interesting boy, and has none of the rudeness and
+mischievousness they generally have--blue eyes, soft, silky, flaxen
+hair, and as modest as a girl. His orphaned state merits kindness, and
+his prospects entitle him to consideration. I mention this because I
+fancy, when we last discussed this matter, I saw a little disposition
+on your part to be satirical at the poor boy's expense. I am sure,
+however, that you will restrain this feeling at my request, and treat
+him like a younger brother. I only wish he was three or four years
+older--you understand me, miss.
+
+"To-morrow afternoon, then, we shall be at Font Abbey. Let him have
+the east room, and tell Brown to light a blazing fire in my bedroom.
+and warm and air every mortal thing, on pain of death.
+
+                              "Your affectionate uncle,
+
+                              "JOHN FOUNTAIN."
+
+
+On reading this letter Lucy formed an innocent scheme. It had long
+been matter of regret to her that Aunt Bazalgette could not see the
+good qualities of Uncle Fountain, and Uncle Fountain of Aunt
+Bazalgette. "It must be mere prejudice," said she, "or why do I love
+them both?" She had often wished she could bring them together, and
+make them know one another better; they would find out one another's
+good qualities then, and be friends. But how? As Shakespeare says,
+"Oxen and wain-ropes would not haul them, together."
+
+At last chance aided her--Mrs. Bazalgette was at Font Abbey actually.
+Lucy knew that if she announced Mr. Fountain's expected return the B
+would fly off that minute, so she suppressed the information, and,
+giving up to young Arthur as she had to Mrs. B., moved into a still
+smaller room than the east room.
+
+And now her heart quaked a little. "But, after all, Uncle Fountain is
+a gentleman," thought she, "and not capable of showing hostility to
+her under his own roof. Here she is safe, though nowhere else; only I
+must see him, and explain to him before he sees her." With this view
+Lucy declined demurely her aunt's proposal for a walk. No, she must be
+excused; she had work to do in the drawing-room that could not be
+postponed.
+
+"Work! that alters the case. Let me see it." She took for granted it
+was some useful work--something that could be worn when done. "What!
+is this it--these dirty parchments? Oh! I see; it is for that selfish
+old man; who but he would set a lady to parchments!"
+
+"A bad guess," cried Lucy, joyously. "I found them myself, and set
+myself to work on them."
+
+"Don't tell me! He is at the bottom of it. If it was for yourself you
+would give it up directly. How amusing for me to see you work at
+that!" Lucy rose and brought her the new novel. Mrs. Bazalgette took
+it and sat down to it, but she could not fix her attention long on it.
+Ladies whose hearts are in dress have no taste for books, however
+frivolous; can't sit them for above a second or two. Mrs. Bazalgette
+fidgeted and fidgeted, and at last rose and left the room, book in
+hand. "How unkind I am!" said Lucy to herself.
+
+She was sitting sentinel till the carriage should arrive; then she
+could run down and prepare her uncle for his innocent and accidental
+visitor. It would not be prudent to let him receive the information
+from a servant, or without the accompanying explanation. This it was
+that made her so unnaturally firm when the little idle B pressed her
+to waste in play the shining hours.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette went book in hand to her bedroom, and had not been
+there long before she found employment. Many of Lucy's things were
+still in the wardrobes. Mrs. B. rummaged them, inspected them at the
+window, and ended by ringing for her maid and trying divers of her
+niece's dresses on. "They make her dresses better than they do mine;
+they take more pains." At last she found one that was new to her,
+though Lucy had worn it several times at Font Abbey.
+
+"Where did she get this, Jane?"
+
+"Present from the old gentleman, mum; he had it down from London for
+her all at one time with this shawl and twelve puragloves."
+
+Lucy looked two inches taller than Mrs. B., but somehow, I can't tell
+how, this dress of hers fitted the latter like a glove. It embraced
+her; it held her tenderly, but tight, as gowns and lovers should. The
+poor dear could not get out of it. "I _must_ wear it an hour or
+two," said she. "Besides, it will save my own, knocking about in these
+country lanes." Thus attired she went into the drawing-room to
+surprise Lucy. Now Lucy was determined not to move; so, not to be
+enticed, she did not even look up from her work; on this the other
+took a mild huff and whisked out.
+
+So keen are the feminine senses, that Lucy, on reflection, recognized
+something brusk, perhaps angry, in the rustle of that retiring dress,
+and soon after rang the bell and inquired where Mrs. Bazalgette was.
+John would make henquiries.
+
+"Your haunt is in the back garden, miss."
+
+"Walking, or what?"
+
+John would make henquiries.
+
+"She is reading, miss; and she is sitting on the seat master 'ad made
+for _you,_ miss.
+
+"Very well: thank you."
+
+"Any more commands, miss?"
+
+"Not at present." John retired with a regretful air, as one capable of
+executing important commissions, but lost for lack of opportunity. All
+the servants in this house liked to come into contact with Lucy. She
+treated them with a dignified kindness and reserved politeness that
+wins these good creatures more than either arrogance or familiarity.
+"Jeames is not such a fool as he looks."
+
+Lucy was glad. Her aunt had got her book. It is an interesting story;
+she will not miss me now, and the carriage will soon be here, and then
+I will make up for my unkindness. Curiously enough, at this very
+juncture, the fair student found something in her parchment which gave
+her some little hopes of a favorable result.
+
+She was following this clue eagerly, when all of a sudden she started.
+Her ear had caught the rattle of a carriage over the stones of the
+stable yard. She rang the bell, and inquired if that was not the
+carriage.
+
+"Yes, miss.
+
+"My uncle has sent it back, then? He is not coming to-day?"
+
+John would inquire of the coachman.
+
+"Oh yes, miss, master is come, but he got out at the foot of the hill,
+and walked up through the shrubbery with the young gentleman to show
+him the grounds." On this news Lucy rose hastily, snatched up a garden
+hat, and, without any other preparation, went out to intercept her
+uncle. As she stepped into the garden she heard a loud scream,
+followed by angry voices; she threw her hands up to heaven in dismay
+and ran toward the sounds. They came from the back garden. She went
+like lightning round the corner of the house, and came plump upon an
+agitated group, of whom she made one directly, spellbound. Here stood
+Aunt Bazalgette, her head turned haughtily, her cheeks scarlet. There
+stood Mr. Fountain on the other side of the rustic seat, red as fire,
+too, but wearing a hang-dog look, and behind him young Arthur, pale,
+with two eyes like saucers, gazing awestruck at the first row he had
+ever seen between a full-grown lady and gentleman.
+
+Our narrative must take a step to the rear, as an excellent writer,
+Private ----* phrases it, otherwise you might be misled to suppose
+that Uncle Fountain was quarreling with Mrs. B. for having set her
+foot in sacred Font Abbey.
+
+     *"I had an escape myself. As I opened the door of a house, a
+     black fellow was behind waiting for me, and made a chop. I
+     took a step to the rear, fired through the door, and cooked
+     his goose."--_Times._
+
+No, the pudding was richer than that. Mr. Fountain had young Arthur in
+charge, and, not being an ill-natured old gentleman, he pitied the
+boy, and did all he could to make him feel he was coming among
+friends. He sent the carriage on, and showed Arthur the grounds, and
+covertly praised the place and all about it, Lucy included, for was
+not she an appendage of his abbey. "You will see my niece--a charming
+young lady, who will be kind to you, and you must make friends with
+her. She is very accomplished--paints. She plays like an angel, too.
+Ah! there she is. She has got the gown on I gave her--a compliment to
+me--a very pretty attention, Arthur, the day of my return. What is she
+doing?"
+
+Arthur, with his young eyes, settled this question. "The lady is
+asleep. See, she has dropped her book." And; in fact, the whole
+attitude was lax and not ungraceful. Her right hand hung down, and the
+domestic story, its duty done, reposed beneath.
+
+"Now, Arthur," said the senior, making himself young to please the
+boy, and to show him that, if he looked old, he was not worn out,
+"would you like a bit of fun? We will startle her--we'll give her a
+kiss." Arthur hung back irresolute, and his cheeks were dyed with
+blushes.
+
+"Not you, you young rogue; you are not her uncle." The old gentleman
+then stole up at the back of the seat, followed with respectful
+curiosity by Arthur. She happened to move as the senior got near; so,
+for fear she was going to wake of herself and baffle the surprise, he
+made a rush and rubbed his beard a little roughly against Mrs.
+Bazalgette's cheek. Up starts that lady, who was not fast asleep, but
+only under the influence of the domestic tale, utters a scream, and,
+when she sees her ravisher, goes into a passion.
+
+"How dare you? What is the meaning of this insult?"
+
+"How came you here?" was the reply, in an equally angry tone.
+
+"Can't a lady come into your little misery of a garden without being
+outraged?"
+
+"It isn't the garden--it is only the back garden," cried the
+proprietor of Font Hill; _"(blesse)_ I'll swear that is my
+niece's gown; so you've invaded that, too."
+
+"Aunt Bazalgette--Uncle Fountain, it was my fault," sighed a piteous
+voice. This was Lucy, who had just come on the scene. "Dear uncle,
+forgive me; it was I who invited her."
+
+Lucy's pathetic tones, which were fast degenerating into sobs, were
+agreeably interrupted.
+
+At one and the same moment the man and woman of the world took a new
+view of the situation, looked at one another, and burst out laughing.
+Both these carried a safety-valve against choler--a trait that takes
+us into many follies, but keeps us out of others--a sense of humor.
+The next thing to relieve the situation was the senior's comprehensive
+vanity. He must recover young Arthur's reverence, which was doubtless
+dissolving all this time. "Now, Arthur," he whispered, "take a lesson
+from a gentleman of the old school. I hate this she-devil; but this is
+at my house, so--observe." He then strutted jauntily and feebly up to
+Mrs. Bazalgette: "Madam, my niece says you are her guest; but permit
+me to dispute her title to that honor." Mrs. Bazalgette smiled
+agreeably. She wanted to stay a day or two at Font Abbey. The senior
+flourished out his arm. "Let me show you what _we_ call the
+garden here." She took his arm graciously. "I shall be delighted, sir
+[pompous old fool!]."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette steeled her mind to admire the garden, and would have
+done so with ease if it had been hideous. But, unfortunately, it was
+pretty--prettier than her own; had grassy slopes, a fountain, a
+grotto, variegated beds, and beds a blaze of one color (a fashion not
+common at that time); item, a brook with waterlilies on its bosom.
+"This brook is not mine, strictly speaking," said her host; "I
+borrowed it of my neighbor." The lady opened her eyes; so he grinned
+and revealed a characteristic transaction. A quarter of a century ago
+he had found the brook flowing through a meadow close to his garden
+hedge. He applied for a lease of the meadow, and was refused by the
+proprietor in the following terms: "What is to become of my cows?"
+
+He applied constantly for ten years, and met the same answer.
+Proprietor died, the cows turned to ox-beef, and were eaten in London
+along with flour and a little turmeric, and washed down with Spanish
+licorice-water, salt, gentian and a little burned malt. Widow
+inherited, made hay, and refused F. the meadow because her husband had
+always refused him. But in the tenth year of her siege she assented,
+for the following reasons: _primo,_ she had said "no" so often
+the word gave her a sense of fatigue; _secundo,_ she liked
+variety, and thought a change for the worse must be better than no
+change at all.
+
+Her tenant instantly cut a channel from the upper part of the stream
+into his garden, and brought the brook into the lawn, made it write an
+S upon his turf, then handed it but again upon the meadow "none the
+worse," his own comment. These things could be done in the
+country--_jadis._
+
+It cost Mrs. Bazalgette a struggle to admire the garden and borrowed
+stream--they were so pretty. She made the struggle and praised all.
+Lucy, walking behind the pair, watched them with innocent
+satisfaction. "How fast they are making friends," thought she,
+mistaking an armistice for an alliance.
+
+"Since the place is so fortunate as to please you, you will stay a
+week with me, madam, at least."
+
+"A week! No, Mr. Fountain; I really admire your courtesy too much to
+abuse it."
+
+"Not at all; you will oblige me."
+
+"I cannot bring myself to think so."
+
+"You may believe me. I have a selfish motive."
+
+"Oh, if you are in earnest."
+
+"I will explain. If you are my guest for a week, that will give me a
+claim to be yours in turn." And he bent a keen look upon the lady, as
+much as to say, "Now I shall see whether you dare let me spy on you as
+you are doing on me."
+
+"I propose an amendment," said Mrs. Bazalgette, with a merry air of
+defiance: "for every day I enjoy here you must spend two beneath my
+roof. On this condition, I will stay a week at Font Abbey."
+
+"I consent," said Mr. Fountain, a little sharply. He liked the
+bargain. "I must leave you to Lucy for a minute; I have some orders to
+give. I like _my_ guests to be comfortable." With this he retired
+to his study and pondered. "What is she here for? it is not affection
+for Lucy; that is all my eye, a selfish toad like her. (How agreeable
+she can make herself, though.) She heard I was out, and came here to
+spy directly. That was sharp practice. Better not give her a chance of
+seeing my game. I disarmed her suspicion by asking her to stay a week,
+aha! Well, during that week Talboys must not come, that is all; aha!
+my lady, I won't give those cunning eyes of yours a chance of looking
+over my hand." He then wrote a note to Talboys, telling him there was
+a guest at Font Abbey, a disagreeable woman, "who makes mischief
+whenever she can. She would be sure to divine our intentions, and use
+all her influence with Lucy to spite me. You had better stay away till
+she is gone." He sent this off by a servant, then pondered again.
+
+"She suspects something; then that is a sign she has her own designs
+on Lucy. Hum! no. If she had, she would not have invited me to her
+house. She invited me directly and cheerfully--!"
+
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette walked and sat with an arm round Lucy's waist, and
+told her seven times before dinner how happy she was at the prospect
+of a quiet week with her. In the evening she yawned eleven times. Next
+day she asked Lucy who was coming to dinner.
+
+"Nobody, dear."
+
+"Nobody at all?"
+
+"I thought you would perhaps not care to have our tete-a-tete
+interrupted yet."
+
+"Oh, but I should like to explore the natives too."
+
+"I will give uncle a hint, dear." The hint was given very delicately,
+but the malicious senior had a perverse construction ready
+immediately.
+
+"So this is her mighty affection for you. Can't get through two days
+without strangers."
+
+"Uncle," said Lucy, imploringly, "she is so used to society, and she
+has me all day; we ought to give her some little amusement at night."
+
+"Well, I can't make up parties now; my friends are all in London. She
+only wants something to flirt with. Send for David Dodd."
+
+"What, for her to flirt with?"
+
+"Yes; he is a handsome fellow; he will serve her turn."
+
+"For shame, uncle; what would Mr. Bazalgette say? Poor aunt, she is a
+coquette now."
+
+"And has been this twenty years."
+
+"Now I was thinking--Mr. Talboys?"
+
+"Talboys is not at home; she must be content with lower game. She
+shall bring down David."
+
+Lucy hesitated. "I don't think she will like Mr. Dodd, and I am sure
+he will not like her."
+
+"How can you know that?"
+
+"He is so honest. He will not understand a woman of the world and her
+little in--sin--No, I don't mean that."
+
+"Well, if he does not understand her he may like her."
+
+
+"Aunt, he has made me ask the Dodds to tea, and I am afraid you will
+not like them."
+
+"Well, if I don't we must try some more natives to-morrow. Who are
+they?" Lucy told her. "Pretty people to ask to meet me," said she,
+loftily. This scorn dissolved in course of the evening. Lucy, anxious
+her guests should be pleased with one another, drew the Dodds out,
+especially David--made him spin a yarn. With this and his good looks
+he so pleased Mrs. Bazalgette that it was the last yarn he ever span
+during her stay. She took a fancy to him, and set herself to captivate
+him with sprightly ardor.
+
+David received her advances politely, but a little coldly. The lady
+was very agreeable, but she kept him from Lucy; he hardly got three
+words with her all the evening. As they went home together, Eve
+sneered: "Well, you managed nicely; it was your business to make
+friends with that lady."
+
+"With all my heart."
+
+"Then why didn't you do what she bid you?"
+
+"She gave me no orders that I heard," said the literal first mate.
+
+"She gave you a plain hint, though."
+
+"To do what?"
+
+"To do what? stupid! Why, to make love to her, to be sure."
+
+"Why, she is a married woman?"
+
+"If she chooses to forget that, is it your business to remember it?"
+
+"And if she was single, and the loveliest in the world, how could I
+court her when my heart is full of an angel?"
+
+"If your heart is full, your head is empty. Why, you see nothing."
+
+"I can't see why I should belie my heart."
+
+"Can't you? Then I can. David, in less than a month Miss Fountain goes
+to this lady and stays a quarter of a year: she told me so herself.
+Oh, my ears are always open in your service ever since I did agree to
+be as great a fool as you are. Now don't you see that if you can't get
+Mrs. Bazalgette to invite you to her house, you must take leave of the
+other here forever?"
+
+"I see what you mean, Eve; how wise you are! It is wonderful. But what
+is to be done? I am bad at feigning. I can't make love to her."
+
+"But you can let her make love to you: is that an effort you feel
+equal to? and I must do the rest. Oh, we have a nice undertaking
+before us. But, if boys will cry for fruit that is out of their reach,
+and their silly sisters will indulge them--don't slobber _me."_
+
+"You are such a dear girl to fight for me so a little against your
+judgment."
+
+"A little, eh? Dead against it, you mean. Don't look so blank, David;
+you are all right as far as me. When my heart is on your side you can
+snap your fingers at my judgment."
+
+David was cheered by this gracious revelation.
+
+Eve was a tormenting little imp. She could not help reminding him
+every now and then that all her maneuvers and all his love were to end
+in disappointment. These discouraging comments had dashed poor David's
+spirits more than once; but he was beginning to discover that they
+were invariably accompanied or followed by an access of cheerful zeal
+in the desperate cause--a pleasing phenomenon, though somewhat
+unintelligible to this honest fellow, who had never microscoped the
+enigmatical sex.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette reproached Lucy: "You never told me how handsome Mr.
+Dodd was."
+
+"Didn't I?
+
+"No. He is the handsomest man I ever saw."
+
+"I have not observed that, but I think he is one of the worthiest."
+
+"I should not wonder," said the other lady, carelessly. "It is clear
+you don't appreciate him here. You half apologized to me for inviting
+him."
+
+"That was because you are such a fashionable lady, and the Dodds have
+no such pretensions."
+
+"All the better; my taste is not for sophisticated people. I only put
+up with them because I am obliged. Why, Lucy, you ought to know how my
+heart yearns for nature and truth; I am sure I have told you so often
+enough. An hour spent with a simple, natural creature like Captain
+Dodd refreshes me as a cooling breeze after the heat and odors of a
+crowded room."
+
+"Miss Dodd is very natural too--is she not?"
+
+"Very. Pertness and vulgarity are natural enough--to some people."
+
+"My uncle likes her the best of the two."
+
+"Then your uncle is mad. But the fact is, men are no judges in such
+cases; they are always unjust to their own sex, and as blind to the
+faults of ours as beetles."
+
+"But surely, aunt, she is very arch and lively."
+
+"Pert and fussy, you mean."
+
+"Pretty, at all events? Rather?"
+
+"What, with that snub nose!!?"
+
+Lucy offered to invite other neighbors; Mrs. Bazalgette replied she
+didn't want to be bothered with rurality. "You can ask Captain Dodd,
+if you like; there is no need to invite the sister."
+
+"Oh yes, I must; my uncle likes her the best."
+
+"But _I_ don't; and I am only here for a day or two."
+
+"Miss Dodd would be hurt. It would be unkind--discourteous."
+
+"No, no. She watches him all the time like a little dragon."
+
+_"Apres?_ We have no sinister designs on Mr. Dodd, have we?" and
+something unusually keen flashed upon Aunt Bazalgette out of the tail
+of the quiet Lucy's eye.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette looked cross. "Nonsense, Lucy; so tiresome! Can't we
+have an agreeable person without tacking on a disagreeable one?"
+
+"Aunt," said Lucy, pathetically, "ask me anything else in the world,
+but don't ask me to be rude, for _I can't."_
+
+"Well, then, you are bound to entertain her, since she is your choice,
+and leave me mine."
+
+Lucy acquiesced softly.
+
+David, tutored by his sister, now tried to seem interested in her who
+came between him and Lucy, and a miserable hand he made of this his
+first piece of acting. Luckily for him, Mrs. Bazalgette liked the
+sound of her own voice; and his good looks, too, went a long way with
+the mature woman. Lucy and Eve sat together at the tea-table; Mr.
+Fountain slumbered below; Arthur was in the study, nailed to a novel;
+Eve, under a careless exterior, watched intently to find out if Lucy,
+under a calm surface, cared for David at all or not, and also watched
+for a chance to serve him. She observed a certain languor about the
+young lady, but no attempt to take David from the coquette. At last,
+however, Lucy did say demurely, "Mr. Dodd seems to appreciate my
+aunt."
+
+"Don't you think it is rather the other way?"
+
+"That is an insidious question, Miss Dodd. I shall make no admissions;
+but I warn you she is a very fascinating woman."
+
+"My brother is greatly admired by the ladies, too."
+
+"Oh, since I praised my champion, you have a right to praise yours.
+But he will get the worst in that little encounter."
+
+"Why so?
+
+"Because my sprightly aunt forgets the very names of her conquests
+when once she has thoroughly made them."
+
+"She will never make this one; my brother carries an armor against
+coquettes."
+
+"Ay, indeed; and pray what may that be?" inquired Lucy, a little
+quizzingly.
+
+"A true and deep attachment."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"And if you will look at him a little closer you will see that he
+would be glad to get away from that old flirt; but David is very
+polite to ladies."
+
+Lucy stole a look from under her silken lashes, and it so happened
+that at that very moment she encountered a sorrowful glance from David
+that said plainly enough, I am obliged to be here, but I long to be
+there. She received his glance full in her eyes, absorbed it blandly,
+then lowered her lashes a moment, then turned her head with a sweet
+smile toward Eve. "I think you said your brother was engaged."
+
+"No."
+
+"I misunderstood you, then."
+
+"Yes." Eve uttered this monosyllable so dryly that Lucy drew back, and
+immediately turned the conversation into chit-chat.
+
+It had not trickled above ten minutes when an exclamation from David
+interrupted it. The young ladies turned instinctively, and there was
+David flushing all over, and speaking to Mrs. Bazalgette with a
+tremulous warmth, that, addressed as it was to a pretty woman, sounded
+marvelously like love-making.
+
+Lucy turned her crest round a little haughtily, and shot such a glance
+on Eve. Eve read in it a compound of triumph and pique.
+
+
+David came to Eve one morning with parchments in his hand and a merry
+smile. "Eureka!"
+
+"You're another," said Eve, as quick as lightning, and upon
+speculation.
+
+"I have made Mr. Fountain's pedigree out," explained David.
+
+"You don't say so! won't he be pleased?"
+
+"Yes. Do you think _she_ will be pleased?"
+
+"Why not? She will look pleased, anyway. I say, don't you go and tell
+them the whole county was owned by the Dodds before Fountain, or
+Funteyn, or Font, was ever heard of."
+
+"Hardly. I have my own weaknesses, my lass; I've no need to adopt
+another man's."
+
+"Bless my soul, how wise you are got! So sudden, too! You shouldn't
+surprise a body like that. Lucky I'm not hysterical. Now let me think,
+David--Solomon, I mean--no, you shall keep this discovery back awhile;
+it may be wanted." She then reminded him that the Fountains were
+capricious; that they had dropped him for a week, and eight again; if
+so, this might be useful to unlock their street door to him at need.
+
+"Good heavens, Eve, what cunning!"
+
+"David, when I have a bad cause in hand, I do one of two things: I
+drop it, or I go into it heart and soul. If my zeal offends you, I can
+retire from the contest with great pleasure."
+
+"No! no! no! no! no! If you leave the helm I shall go ashore
+directly"--dismay of David; grim satisfaction of his imp.
+
+This matter settled, David asked Eve if she did not think Master
+Nelson (Mr. Fountain's new ward) was a very nice boy.
+
+"Yes; and I see he has taken a wonderful fancy to you."
+
+"And so have I to him; we have had one or two walks together. He is to
+come here at twelve o'clock to-day."
+
+"Now why couldn't you have asked me first, David? The painters are
+coming into the house to-day; and the paperers, and all, and we can't
+be bothered with mathematics. You must do them at Font Abbey." Eve was
+a little cross. David only laughed at her; but he hesitated about
+making a school-house of Font Abbey--it would look like intruding.
+
+"Pooh! nonsense," said Eve; "they will only be too glad to take
+advantage of your good-nature."
+
+"He is an orphan," said David, doggedly.
+
+However, the lesson was given at Font Abbey, and after it Master
+Nelson came bounding into the drawing-room to the ladies.
+
+"Oh, Lucy, Mr. Dodd is such a beautiful geometrician! He has been
+giving me a lesson; he is going to give me one every day. He knows a
+great deal more than my last tutor." On this Master Nelson was
+questioned, and revealed that a friendship existed between him and Mr.
+Dodd such as girls are incapable of (this was leveled at Lucy); being
+cross-examined as to the date of this friendship, he was obliged to
+confess that it had only existed four days, but was to last to death.
+
+"But, Arthur," said Lucy, "will not this take up too much of Mr.
+Dodd's time? I think you had better consult Uncle Fountain before you
+make a positive arrangement of the kind."
+
+"Oh, I have spoken to my guardian about it, and he was _so_
+pleased. He said that would save him a mathematical tutor."
+
+"Oh, then," said Mrs. Bazalgette, "Mr. Dodd is to teach mathematics
+gratis."
+
+"My friend is a gentleman," was the timid reply. (Juveniles have a
+pomposity all their own, and exquisitely delicious.*) "We read
+together because we like one another, and that is why we walk together
+and play together; if we were to offer him money he would throw it at
+our heads." Mr. Arthur then relaxed his severity, and, condescending
+once more to the familiar, added: "And he has made me a kite on
+mathematical principles--such a whacker--those in the shops are no
+use; and he has sent his mother's Bath chair on to the downs, and he
+is going to show me the kite draw him ten knots an hour in it--a knot
+means a mile, Lucy--so I can't stay wasting my time here; only, if you
+want to see some fun for once in your lives, come on the downs in
+about an hour--will you? Oh yes! do come!"
+
+     * Read the Oxford Essays.
+
+"Certainly not," said Mrs. Bazalgette, sharply.
+
+"Excuse us, dear," said Lucy in the same breath.
+
+"Well, Lucy," said Mrs. Bazalgette, "am I wrong about your uncle's
+selfishness! I have tried in vain ever since I came here to make you
+see it where _you_ were the only sufferer."
+
+"Not quite in vain, aunt," said Lucy sadly; "you have shown me defects
+in my poor uncle that I should never have discovered."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette smiled grimly.
+
+"Only, as you hate him, and I love him, and always mean to love him,
+permit me to call his defects 'thought-lessness.' _You_ can apply
+the harsh term 'selfish-ness' to the most good-natured, kind,
+indulgent--oh!"
+
+"Ha! ha! Don't cry, you silly girl. Thoughtless? a calculating old
+goose, who is eternally aiming to be a fox--never says or does
+anything without meaning something a mile off. Luckily, his veil is so
+thin that everybody sees through it but you. What do you think of his
+_thought-less-ness_ in getting a tutor gratis? Poor Mr. Dodd!"
+
+"I will answer for it, it is a pleasure to Mr. Dodd to be of service
+to his little friend," said Lucy, warmly.
+
+"How do you know a bore is a pleasure to Mr. Dodd?"
+
+"Mr. Dodd is a new acquaintance of yours, aunt, but I have had
+opportunities of observing his character, and I assure you all this
+pity is wasted."
+
+"Why, Lucy, what did you say to Arthur just now. You are contradicting
+_yourself."_
+
+"What a love of opposition I must have. Are you not tired of in-doors?
+Shall we go into the village?"
+
+"No; I exhausted the village yesterday."
+
+"The garden?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, then, suppose we sketch the church together. There is a good
+light."
+
+"No. Let us go on the downs, Lucy."
+
+"Why, aunt, it--it is a long walk."
+
+"All the better."
+
+"But we said 'No.'"
+
+"What has that to do with it?"
+
+
+Arthur was right; the kites that are sold by shops of prey are not
+proportioned nor balanced; this is probably in some way connected with
+the circumstance that they are made to sell, not fly. The monster
+kite, constructed by the light of Euclid, rose steadily into the air
+like a balloon, and eventually, being attached to the chair, drew Mr.
+Arthur at a reasonable pace about half a mile over a narrow but level
+piece of turf that was on the top of the downs. Q.E.D. This done,
+these two patient creatures had to wind the struggling monster in, and
+go back again to the starting point. Before they had quite achieved
+this, two petticoats mounted the hill and moved toward them across the
+plateau. At sight of them David thrilled from head to foot, and Arthur
+cried, "Oh, bother!" an unjust ejaculation, since it was by his
+invitation they came. His alarms were verified. The ladies made
+themselves No. 1 directly, and the poor kite became a shield for
+flirtation. Arthur was so cross.
+
+At last the B's desire to occupy attention brought her to the verge of
+trouble. Seeing David saying a word to Lucy, she got into the chair,
+and went gayly off, drawn by the kite, which Arthur, with a mighty
+struggle, succeeded in hooking to the car for her. Now, the plateau
+was narrow, and the chair wanted guiding. It was easy to guide it, but
+Mrs. Bazalgette did not know how; so it sidled in a pertinacious and
+horrid way toward a long and steepish slope on the left side. She
+began to scream, Arthur to laugh--the young are cruel, and, I am
+afraid, though he stood perfectly neutral to all appearance, his heart
+within nourished black designs. But David came flying up at her
+screams--just in time. He caught the lady's shoulders as she glided
+over the brow of the slope, and lifted her by his great strength up
+out of the chair, which went the next moment bounding and jumping
+athwart the hill, and soon rolled over and groveled in rather an ugly
+way.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette sobbed and cried so prettily on David's shoulder, and
+had to be petted and soothed by all hands. Inward composure soon
+returned, though not outward, and in due course histrionics commenced.
+First the sprain business. None of you do it better, ladies, whatever
+you may think. David had to carry her a bit. But she was too wise to
+be a bore. Next, the heroic business: _would_ be put down,
+_would_ walk, possible or not; _would_ not be a trouble to
+her kind friends. Then the martyr smiling through pain. David was very
+attentive to her; for while he was carrying her in his arms she had
+won his affection, all he could spare from Lucy. Which of you can tell
+all the consequences if you go and carry a pretty woman, with her
+little insinuating mouth close to your ears?
+
+Lucy and Arthur walked behind. Arthur sighed. Lucy was _reveuse._
+Arthur broke silence first. "Lucy!"
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+"When is she going?"
+
+"Arthur, for shame! I won't tell you. To-morrow."
+
+"Lucy," said Arthur, with a depth of feeling, "she spoils
+everything!!!"
+
+
+Next morning ---- _come back?_ What for? _I will have the
+goodness to tell you what she said in his ear?_ Why, nothing.
+
+_You are a female reader?_ Oh! that alters the case. To attempt
+to deceive you would be cowardly, immoral; it would fail. She sighed,
+"My preserver!" at which David had much ado not to laugh in her face.
+Then she murmured still more softly, "You must come and see me at my
+home before you sail--will you not? I insist" (in the tone of a
+supplicant), "come, promise me."
+
+"That I will--with pleasure," said David, flushing.
+
+"Mind, it is a promise. Put me down. Lucy, come here and make him put
+me down. I _will not_ be a burden to my friends."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THAT same evening, Mrs. Bazalgette, being alone with Lucy in the
+drawing-room, put her arm round that young lady's waist, and lovingly,
+not seriously, as a man might have been apt to do, reminded her of her
+honorable promise--not to be caught in the net of matrimony at Font
+Abbey. Lucy answered, without embarrassment, that she claimed no merit
+for keeping her word. No one had had the ill taste to invite her to
+break it.
+
+"You are either very sly or very blind," replied Mrs. Bazalgette,
+quietly.
+
+"Aunt!" said Lucy, piteously.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette, who, by many a subtle question and observation during
+the last week, had satisfied herself of Lucy's innocence, now set to
+work and laid Uncle Fountain bare.
+
+"I do not speak in a hurry, Lucy; a hint came round to me a fortnight
+ago that you had an admirer here, and it turns out to be this Mr.
+Talboys."
+
+"Mr. Talboys?"
+
+"Yes. Does that surprise you? Do you think a young gentleman would
+come to Font Abbey three nights in a week without a motive?"
+
+Lucy reflected.
+
+"It is all over the place that you two are engaged."
+
+Lucy colored, and her eyes flashed with something very like anger, but
+she held her peace.
+
+"Ask Jane else."
+
+"What! take my servant into my confidence?"
+
+"Oh, there is a way of setting that sort of people chattering without
+seeming to take any notice. To tell the truth, I have done it for you.
+It is all over the village, and all over the house."
+
+"The proper person to ask must have been Uncle Fountain himself."
+
+"As if he would have told me the truth."
+
+"He is a gentleman, aunt, and would not have uttered a falsehood."
+
+"Doctrine of chivalry! He would have uttered half a dozen in one
+minute. Besides, why should I question a person I can read without.
+Your uncle, with his babyish cunning that everybody sees through, has
+given me the only proof I wanted. He has not had Mr. Talboys here once
+since I came."
+
+"Cunning little aunt! Mr. Talboys happens not to be at home; uncle
+told me so himself."
+
+"Simple little niece, uncle told you a fib; Mr. Talboys is at home.
+And observe! until I came to Font Abbey, he was here three times a
+week. You admit that. I come; your uncle knows I am not so unobservant
+as you, and Mr. Talboys is kept out of sight."
+
+"The proof that my uncle has deceived me," said Lucy, coldly, and with
+lofty incredulity.
+
+"Read that note from Miss Dodd!"
+
+"What! you in correspondence with Miss Dodd?"
+
+"That is to say, she has thrust herself into correspondence with
+me--just like her assurance."
+
+The letter ran thus:
+
+
+"DEAR MADAM--My brother requests me to say that, in compliance with
+your request, he called at the lodge of Talboys Park, and the people
+informed him Mr. Talboys had not left Talboys Park at all since
+Easter. I remain yours, etc."
+
+
+Lucy was dumfounded.
+
+"I suspected something, Lucy, so I asked Mr. Dodd to inquire."
+
+"It was a singular commission to send him on."
+
+"Oh, he takes long walks--cruises, he calls them--and he is so
+good-natured. Well, what do you think of your uncle's veracity now?"
+
+Lucy was troubled and distressed, but she mastered her countenance: "I
+think he has sacrificed it for once to his affection for me. I fear
+you are right; my eyes are opened to many circumstances. But do--oh,
+pray do!--see his goodness in all this."
+
+"The goodness of a story-teller."
+
+"He admires Mr. Talboys--he reveres him. No doubt he wished to secure
+his poor niece what he thinks a great match, and now you assign ill
+motives to him. Yes, I confess he has deviated from truth. Cruel!
+cruel! what can you give me in exchange if you rob me of my esteem for
+those I love!"
+
+This innocent distress, with its cause, were too deep for a lady whose
+bright little intelligence leaned toward cunning rather than wisdom.
+In spite of her niece's trouble, and the brimming eyes that implored
+forbearance, she drove the sting, merrily in again and again, till at
+last Lucy, who was not defending herself, but an absent friend, turned
+a little suddenly on her and said:
+
+"And do you think he says nothing against you?"
+
+"Oh, he is a backbiter, too, is he? I didn't know he had that vice.
+Ah! and, pray, what can he find to say against me?"
+
+"Oh, people that hate one another can always find something
+ill-natured to say," retorted Lucy, with a world of meaning.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette turned red, and her little nose went up into the air
+at an angle of forty-five. She said, with majestic disdain: "I don't
+hate the man--I don't condescend to hate him."
+
+"Then don't condescend to backbite him, dear."
+
+This home-thrust, coming from such a quarter, took away my Lady
+Disdain's very breath. She sat transfixed; then, upon reflection, got
+up a tear, and had to be petted.
+
+This sweet lady departed, flinging down her firebrand on those
+hospitable boards.
+
+Lucy, though she had defended her uncle, was not a little vexed that
+he had managed matters so as to get her talked of with Mr. Talboys.
+Her natural modesty and reserve prevented her from remonstrating; nor
+was there any positive necessity. She was one of those young ladies
+who seem born mistresses of the art of self-defense. Deriving the art
+not from experience, but from instinct, they are as adroit at
+seventeen as they are at twenty-seven; so a last year's bird
+constructs her first nest as cunningly as can a veteran feathered
+architect.
+
+Therefore, without a grain of discourtesy or tangible ill-temper, she
+quietly froze, and a small family with her, they could not tell how or
+why, for they had never even suspected this girl's power. You would
+have seemed to them as one that mocketh had you told them they owed
+their gayety, their good-humor, their happiness, and their
+conversational powers to her.
+
+Of these Talboys suffered the most. She brought him to a stand-still
+by a very simple process. She no longer patted or spurred him. To vary
+the metaphor, a man that has no current must be stirred or stagnate;
+Lucy's light hand stirred Talboys no more; Talboys stagnated. Mr.
+Fountain suffered next in proportion. He began to find that something
+was the matter, but what he had no idea. He did not observe that,
+though Lucy answered him as kindly as ever, she did not draw him out
+as heretofore, far less that she was vexed with him, and on her guard
+against him and everybody, like a _maitresse d'armes._ No. "The
+days were drawing in. The air was heavy; no carbon in it. Wind in the
+east again!!!" etc. So subtle is the influence of these silly little
+creatures upon creation's lords.
+
+Mr. Talboys did not take delicate hints. He continued his visits three
+times a week, and the coast was kept clear for him. On this Miss
+Fountain proceeded to overt acts of war. She brought a champion on the
+scene--a terrible champion--a champion so irresistible that I set any
+woman down as a coward who lets him loose upon a sex already so
+unequal to the contest as ours. What that champion's real name is I
+have in vain endeavored to discover, but he is _called_
+"Headache." When this terrible ally mingled in the game--on the
+Talboys nights--dismay fell upon the wretched males that abode in and
+visited the once cheerful, cozy Font Abbey. Messrs. Fountain and
+Talboys put their heads together in grave, anxious consultations, and
+Arthur vented a yell of remonstrance. He found the lady one afternoon
+preparing indisposition. She was leaning languidly back, and the fire
+was dying out of her eye, and the color out of her cheek, and the
+blinds were drawn down. The poor boy burst in upon this prologue. "Oh,
+Lucy," he cried, in piteous, foreboding tones, "don't go and have a
+headache to-night. It was so jolly till you took to these
+_stupid_ headaches."
+
+"I am so sorry, Arthur," said Lucy, apologetically, but at bottom she
+was inexorable. The disease reached its climax just before dinner. All
+remedies failed, and there was nothing for it but to return to her own
+room, and read the last new tale of domestic interest--and
+principle--until sleep came to her relief.
+
+After dinner Arthur shot out with the retiring servants, and interred
+himself in the study, where he sought out with care such wild romances
+as give entirely false views of life, and found them, "and so shut up
+in measureless content."--Macbeth.
+
+The seniors consulted at their ease. They both appreciated the painful
+phenomenon, but they differed _toto coelo_ as to the cause. Mr.
+Fountain ascribed it to the somber influence of Mrs. Bazalgette, and
+miscalled her, till Jane's hair stood on end: she happened to be the
+one at the keyhole that night. Mr. Talboys laid all the blame on David
+Dodd. The discussion was vigorous, and occupied more than two hours,
+and each party brought forward good and plausible reasons; and, if
+neither made any progress toward converting the other, they gained
+this, at least, that each corroborated himself. Now Mrs. Bazalgette
+was gone no direct reprisals on her were possible. Registering a vow
+that one day or other he would be even with her, the senior consented,
+though not very willingly, to co-operate with his friend against an
+imaginary danger. In answer to his remark that the Dodds were never
+invited to tea now, Mr. Talboys had replied: "But I find from Mr.
+Arthur he visits the house every day on the pretense of teaching him
+mathematics--a barefaced pretense--a sailor teach mathematics!" Mr.
+Fountain had much ado to keep his temper at this pertinacity in a
+jealous dream. He gulped his ire down, however, and said, somewhat
+sullenly: "I really cannot consent to send my poor friend's son to the
+University a dunce, and there is no other mathematician near."
+
+"If I find you one," said Talboys, hastily, "will you relieve Mr. Dodd
+of his labors, and me of his presence?"
+
+"Certainly," said the other. Poor David!
+
+"Then there is my friend Bramby. He is a second wrangler. He shall
+take Arthur, and keep him till Miss Fountain leaves us. Bramby will
+refuse me nothing. I have a living in my gift, and the incumbent is
+eighty-eight."
+
+The senior consented with a pitying smile.
+
+"Bramby will take him next week," said Talboys, severely.
+
+Mr. Fountain nodded his head. It was all the assent he could effect:
+and at that moment there passed through him the sacrilegious thought
+that the Conqueror must have imported an ass or two among his other
+forces, and that one of these, intermarrying with Saxon blood, had
+produced a mule, and that mule was his friend.
+
+The same uneasy jealousy, which next week was to expel David from Font
+Abbey, impelled Mr. Talboys to call the very next day at one o'clock
+to see what was being done under cover of trigonometry. He found Mr.
+and Miss Fountain just sitting down to luncheon. David and Arthur were
+actually together somewhere, perhaps going through the farce of
+geometry. He was half vexed at finding no food for his suspicions.
+Presently, so spiteful is chance, the door opened, and in marched
+Arthur and David.
+
+"I have made him stay to luncheon for once," said Arthur; "he couldn't
+refuse me; we are to part so soon." Arthur got next to Lucy, and had
+David on his left. Mr. Talboys gave Mr. Fountain a look, and very soon
+began to play his battery upon David.
+
+"How do you naval officers find time to learn geometry?"
+
+"What? don't you know it is a part of our education, sir?"
+
+"I never heard that before."
+
+"That is odd; but perhaps you have spent all your life ashore" (this
+in commiserating accents). David then politely explained to Mr.
+Talboys that a man who looked one day to command a ship must not only
+practice seamanship, but learn navigation, and that navigation was a
+noble art founded on the exact sciences as well as on practical
+experiences; that there did still linger upon the ocean a few of the
+old captains, who, born at a period when a ship, in making a voyage,
+used to run down her longitude first, and then begin to make her
+latitude, could handle a ship well, and keep her off a lee shore _if
+they saw it in time,_ but were, in truth, hardly to be trusted to
+take her from port to port. "We get a word with these old salts now
+and then when we are becalmed alongside, and the questions they put
+make us quite feel for them. Then they trust entirely to their
+instruments. They can take an observation, but they can't verify one.
+They can tack her and wear her (I have seen them do one when they
+should have done the other), and they can read the sky and the water
+better than we young ones; and while she floats they stick to her, and
+the greater the danger the louder the oaths--but that is all." He then
+assured them with modest fervor that much more than that was expected
+of the modern commander, particularly in the two capital articles of
+exact science and gentlemanly behavior. He concluded with considerable
+grace by apologizing for his enthusiastic view of a profession
+that had been too often confounded with the faults of its
+professors--faults that were curable, and that they would all, he
+hoped, live long enough to see cured. Then, turning to Miss Fountain,
+he said: "And if I began by despising my business, and taking a small
+view of it, how should I ever hold sticks with my able competitors,
+who study it with zeal and admiration?"
+
+Lucy. "I don't quite understand all you have said, Mr. Dodd,
+but that last I think is unanswerable."
+
+Fountain. "I am sure of it. As the Duke of Wellington said the
+other day in the House of Lords, 'That is a position I defy any noble
+lord to assault with success'--haw! ho!"
+
+Mr. Talboys averted his attack. "Pray, sir," said he, with a sneer,
+"may I ask, have nautical commanders a particular taste for education
+as well as science?"
+
+"Not that I know of. If you mean me, I am hungry to learn, and I find
+few but what can teach me something, and what little I know I am
+willing to impart, sir; give and take."
+
+"It is the direction of your teaching that seems to me so singular.
+Mathematics are horrible enough, and greatly to be avoided."
+
+"That is news to me."
+
+"On _terra firma,_ I mean."
+
+At this opening of the case Talboys versus Newton, Arthur
+shrugged his shoulders to Lucy and David, and went swiftly out as from
+the presence of an idiot. It was abominably rude. But, besides being
+ill-natured and a little shallow, Mr. Talboys was drawling out his
+words, and Arthur was sixteen--candid epoch, at which affectation in
+man or woman is intolerable to us; we get a little hardened to it long
+before sixty. Mr. Talboys bit his lip at this boyish impertinence, but
+he was too proud a man to notice it otherwise than by quietly
+incorporating the offender into his satire. "But the enigma is why you
+read them with a stripling, of whose breeding we have just had a
+specimen--mathematics with a hob-ba-de-hoy? _Grand Dieu!_ Do pray
+tell us, Mr. Dodd, why you come to Font Abbey every day; is it really
+to teach Master Orson mathematics and manners?"
+
+David did not sink into the earth as he was intended to.
+
+"I come to teach him algebra and geometry, what little I know."
+
+"But your motive, Mr. Dodd?"
+
+David looked puzzled, Lucy uneasy at seeing her guest badgered.
+
+"Ask Miss Fountain why she thinks I do my best for Arthur," said
+David, lowering his eyes.
+
+Talboys colored and looked at Fountain.
+
+"I think it must be out of pure goodness," said Lucy, sweetly.
+
+Mr. Talboys ignored her calmly. "Pray enlighten us, Mr. Dodd. Now what
+is the real reason you walk a mile every day to do mathematics with
+that interesting and well-behaved juvenile?"
+
+"You are very curious, sir," said David, grimly, his ire rising
+unseen.
+
+"I am--on this point."
+
+"Well, since you must be told what most men could see without help, it
+is--because he is an orphan; and because an orphan finds a brother in
+every man that is worth the shoe-leather he stands in. Can ye read the
+riddle now, ye lubber?" and David started up haughtily, and, with
+contempt and wrath on his face, marched through the open window and
+joined his little friend on the lawn, leaving Fountain red with anger
+and Talboys white.
+
+The next thing was, Lucy rose and went quietly out of the room by the
+door.
+
+"It is the last time he shall set his foot within my door. Provoking
+cub!"
+
+"You are convinced at last that he is a dangerous rival?"
+
+"A rival? Nonsense and stuff!!"
+
+"Then why was she so agitated? She went out with tears in her eyes: I
+saw them."
+
+"The poor girl was frightened, no doubt. We don't have fracases at
+Font Abbey. On this one spot of earth comfort reigns, and balmy peace,
+and shall reign unruffled while I live. The passions are not admitted
+here, sir. Gracious Heaven forbid! I'd as soon see a bonfire in the
+middle of my dining-room as Jealousy & Co."
+
+"In that case you had better exclude the cause."
+
+"The cause is your imagination, my good friend; but I will give it no
+handle. I will exclude David Dodd until she has accepted you in form."
+
+With this understanding the friends parted.
+
+
+After dinner that same day Arthur sat in the drawing-room with Lucy.
+He was reading, she working placidly. She looked off her work demurely
+at him several times. He was absorbed in a flighty romance. "I have
+dropped my worsted, Arthur. It is by you."
+
+Arthur picked the ball up and brought it to her; then back to his
+romance, heart and soul. Another sidelong glance at him; then, after a
+long silence, "Your book seems very interesting."
+
+"I'll fling it against the wall if it does not mind," was the
+infuriated reply. "Here are two fools quarreling, page after page, and
+can't see, or won't see, what everybody else can see, that it is an
+absurd misunderstanding. One word of common sense would put it all
+right."
+
+"Then why not put the book down and talk to me?"
+
+"I can't. It won't let me. I must see how long the two fools will go
+on not seeing what everybody else sees."
+
+"Will not the number of volumes tell you that?"
+
+"Signorina, don't you try to be satirical!" said the sprightly youth;
+"you'll only make a mess of it. What is the use dropping one drop of
+vinegar into such a great big honey pot?"
+
+"You are a saucy boy," retorted Lucy, in tones of gentle approbation.
+
+A long silence.
+
+"Arthur, will you hold this skein for me?"
+
+Arthur groaned.
+
+"Never mind, dear. I will try and manage with a chair."
+
+"No you won't, now; there."
+
+The victim was caught by the hands. But with fatal instinctive
+perverseness he sat in silent amazement watching Lucy's supple white
+hand disentangling impossibilities instead of chattering as he was
+intended to. Lucy gave a little sigh. Here was a dreadful
+business--obliged to elicit the information she had resolved should be
+forced upon her.
+
+"By the by, Arthur," said she, carelessly, "did Mr. Dodd say anything
+to you on the lawn?"
+
+"What about?"
+
+"About what was said after you went out so ru--so suddenly."
+
+"No; why? what was said? Something about me? Tell me."
+
+"Oh, no, dear; as Mr. Dodd did not mention it, it is not worth while.
+You must not move your hands, please."
+
+"Now, Lucy, that is too bad. It is not fair to excite one's curiosity
+and then stop directly."
+
+"But it is nothing. Mr. Talboys teased Mr. Dodd a little, that is all,
+and Mr. Dodd was not so patient as I have seen him on like occasions.
+There, _you_ are disentangled at last."
+
+"Now, signorina, let us talk sense. Tell me, which do you like best of
+all the gentlemen that come here?"
+
+"You, dear; only keep your hands still."
+
+"None of your chaff, Lucy."
+
+"Chaff! what is that?"
+
+"Flattery, then. I hope it isn't that affected fool Talboys, for I
+hate hun."
+
+"I cannot undertake to share your prejudices, Mr. Arthur."
+
+"Then you actually like him."
+
+"I don't dislike him."
+
+"Then I pity your taste, that is all."
+
+"Mr. Talboys has many good qualities; and if he was what you describe
+him, Uncle Fountain would not prize him as he does."
+
+"There is something in that, Lucy; but I think my guardian and you are
+mad upon just that one point. Talboys is a fool and a snob."
+
+"Arthur," said Lucy, severely, "if you speak so of my uncle's friends,
+you and I shall quarrel."
+
+"You won't quarrel just now, if you can help it."
+
+"Won't I, though? Why not, pray?"
+
+"Because your skein is not wound yet."
+
+"Oh, you little black-hearted thing!"
+
+"I know human nature, miss," said the urchin, pompously; "I have read
+Miss Edgeworth!!!"
+
+He then made an appeal to her candor and good sense. "Now don't you
+see my friend Mr. Dodd is worth them all put together?"
+
+"I can't quite see that."
+
+"He is so noble, so kind, so clever."
+
+"You must own he is a trifle brusk."
+
+"Never. And, if he is, that is not like hurting people's feelings on
+purpose, and saying nasty, ill-natured things wrapped up in politeness
+that you daren't say out like a man, or you'd get kicked. He is a
+gentleman inside; that Talboys is only one outside; but you girls
+can't look below the surface."
+
+"We have not read Miss Edgeworth. His hands are not so white as Mr.
+Talboys'."
+
+"Nor his liver, either--oh, you goose! Which has the finest eyes? Why,
+you don't see such eyes as Mr. Dodd's every day. They are as large as
+yours, only his are dark."
+
+"Don't be angry, dear. You must admit his voice is very loud."
+
+"He can make it loud, but it is always low and gentle whenever he
+speaks to you. I have noticed that; so that is monstrous ungrateful of
+you."
+
+"There, the skein is wound. Arthur!"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"I have a great mind to tell you something your friend Mr. Dodd said
+while you were out of the room--but no, you shall finish your story
+first."
+
+"No, no; hang the story!"
+
+"Ah! you only say that out of politeness. I have taken you from it so
+long already."
+
+The impetuous boy jumped up, seized the volumes, dashed out, and
+presently came running back, crying: "There, I have thrown them behind
+the bookcase for ever and ever. Now will you tell me what he said?"
+
+Lucy smiled triumphantly. She could relish a bloodless victory over an
+inanimate rival. Then she said softly, "Arthur, what I am going to
+tell you is in confidence."
+
+"I will be torn in pieces before I betray it," said the young
+chevalier.
+
+Lucy smiled at his extravagance, then began again very gravely: "Mr.
+Talboys, who, with many good qualities, has--what shall I say?--narrow
+and artificial views compared with your friend--"
+
+"Ah! now you are talking sense."
+
+"Then why interrupt me, dear?--began teasing him, and wanting to know
+the real reason he comes here."
+
+"The real reason? What did the fool mean?"
+
+"How can I tell, Arthur, any more than you? Mr. Dodd evidently thought
+that some slur was meant on the purity of his friendship for you."
+
+"Shame! shame! oh!"
+
+"I saw his anger rising; for Mr. Dodd, though not irritable, is
+passionate--at least I think so. I tried to smooth matters. But no;
+Mr. Talboys persisted in putting this ungenerous question, when all of
+a sudden Mr. Dodd burst out, 'You wish to know why I love Arthur?
+Because he is an orphan; and because an orphan finds a brother in
+every man who is worth the shoe-leather he stands in. That is all the
+riddle, you lubber!!' It was terribly rude; but oh! Arthur, I must
+tell you your friend looked noble; he seemed to swell and rise to a
+giant as he spoke, and we all felt such little shrimps around him; and
+his lip trembled, and fire flashed from his eyes. How you would have
+admired him then; and he swept out of the room, and left us for his
+little friend, who is worthy of it all, since he stands up for him
+against us all. Arthur! why, he is crying! poor child! and do you
+think those words did not go to _my_ heart as well? I am an
+orphan, too. Arthur, don't cry, love! oh! oh! oh!"
+
+Oh, magic of a word from a great heart! Such a word, uncouth and
+simple, but hot from a manly bosom, pierced silk and broadcloth as if
+they had been calico and fustian, and made a fashionable young lady
+and a bold school-boy take hands and cry together. But such sweet
+tears dry quickly; they dry almost as they flow.
+
+"Hallo!" cried the mercurial prince; "a sudden thought strikes me. You
+kept running him down a minute ago."
+
+"Me?" said Lucy, with a look of amazement.
+
+"Why, you know you did. Now tell me what was that for."
+
+"To give you the pleasure of defending him."
+
+"Oh. Hum? Lucy, you are not quite so simple as the others think;
+sometimes I can't make you out myself."
+
+"Is it possible? Well, you know what to do, dear."
+
+"No, I don't."
+
+"Why, read Miss Edgeworth over again."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+ARTHUR was bundled off to a private tutor, and the Dodds invited to
+Font Abbey no more, and Talboys dined there three days a week. So far,
+David Dodd was in a poor and miserable position compared with Talboys,
+who visited Lucy at pleasure, and could close the very street door
+against a rival, real or imaginary. But the street door is not the
+door of the heart, and David had one little advantage over his
+powerful antagonist; it was a slender one, and he owed it to a subtle
+source--female tact. His sister had long been aware of Talboys. The
+gossip of the village had enlightened her as to his visits and
+supposed pretensions. She had deliberately withheld this information
+from her brother, for she said to herself: "Men always make
+_such_ fools of themselves when they are jealous. No. David
+shan't even know he has got a rival; if he did he would be wretched
+and live on thorns, and then he would get into passions, and either
+make a fool of himself in her eyes, or do something rash and be shown
+to the door."
+
+Thus far Eve, defending her brother. And with this piece of shrewdness
+she did a little more for him than she intended or was conscious of;
+for Talboys, either by feeble calculation or instinct of petty
+rivalry, constantly sneered at David before Lucy; David never
+mentioned Talboys' name to her. Now superior ignores, inferior
+detracts. Thus Talboys lowered himself and rather elevated David;
+moreover, he counteracted his own strongest weapon, the street door.
+After putting David out of sight, this judicious rival could not let
+him fade out of mind too; he found means to stimulate the lady's
+memory, and, as far as in him lay, made the absent present. May all my
+foes unweave their webs as cleverly! David knew nothing of this. He
+saw himself shut out from Paradise, and he was sad. He felt the loss
+of Arthur too. The orphan had been medicine to him. When a man is
+absorbed in a hopeless passion, to be employed every day in a good
+action has a magical soothing influence on the racked heart. Try this
+instead of suicide, despairing lover. It is a quack remedy; no M. D.
+prescribes it. Never you mind; in desperate ills a little cure is
+worth a deal of etiquette. Poor David had lost this innocent
+comfort--lost, too, the pleasure of going every day to the house she
+lived in. To be sure, when he used to go he seldom caught a glimpse of
+her, but he did now and then, and always enjoyed the hope.
+
+"I see how it is," said he to Eve one day; "I am not welcome to the
+master of the house. Well, he is the master; I shall not force my way
+where I am not welcome"; but after these spirited words he hung his
+head.
+
+"Oh, nonsense," said Eve. "It isn't him. There are mischief-makers
+behind."
+
+"Ay? just you tell me who they are. I'll teach them to come across my
+hawse"; and David's eyes flashed.
+
+"Don't you be silly," said Eve, and turned it off; "and don't be so
+downhearted. Why, you are not half a man."
+
+"No more I am, Eve. What has come to me?"
+
+"What, indeed? just when everything goes swimmingly."
+
+"Eve, how can you say so?"
+
+"Why, David, she leaves this in a few days for Mrs. Bazalgette's
+house. You tell me you have got a warm invitation there. Then make the
+play there, and, if you can't win her, say you don't deserve her,
+twiddle your thumb, and see a bolder lover carry her off. You foolish
+boy, she is only a woman; she is to be won. If you don't mind, some
+man will show you it was as easy as you think it is hard. Timid wooers
+make a mountain of a mole-hill."
+
+"Why, it is you who have kept me backing and filling all this time,
+Eve."
+
+"Of course. Prudence at first starting, but that isn't to say courage
+is never to come in. First creep within the fortification wall; but,
+once inside, if you don't storm the city that minute, woe be unto you.
+Come, cheer up! it is only for a few days, and then she goes where you
+will have her all to yourself; besides, you shall have one sweet
+delicious evening with her all alone before she goes. What! have you
+forgotten the pedigree? Wasn't I right to keep that back? and now
+march and take a good long walk."
+
+Her tongue was a spur. It made David's drooping manhood rear and
+prance--a trumpet, and pealed victory to come. David kissed her warmly
+and strode away radiant. She looked sadly after him.
+
+She had never spoken so hopefully, so encouragingly. The reason will
+startle such of my readers as have not taken the trouble to comprehend
+her. It was that she had never so thoroughly desponded. Such was Eve.
+When matters went smoothly, she itched to torment and take the gloss
+off David; but now the affair looked really desperate, so it would
+have been unkind not to sustain him with all her soul. The cause of
+her despondency and consequent cheerfulness shall now be briefly
+related. Scarce an hour ago she had met Miss Fountain in the village
+and accompanied her home. For David's sake she had diverted the
+conversation by easy degrees to the subject of marriage, in order to
+sound Miss Fountain. "You would never give your hand without your
+heart, I am sure."
+
+"Heaven forbid," was the reply.
+
+"Not even to a coronet?"
+
+"Not even to a crown."
+
+So far so good; but Miss Fountain went on to say that the heart was
+not the only thing to be consulted in a matter so important as
+marriage.
+
+"It is the only thing I would ever consult," said Eve. As Lucy did not
+reply, Eve asked her next what she would do if she loved a poor man.
+Lucy replied coldly that it was not her present intention to love
+anybody but her relations; that she should never love any gentleman
+until she had been married to him, or, correcting herself, at all
+events, been some time engaged to him, and she should certainly never
+engage herself to anyone who would not rather improve her position in
+society than deteriorate it. Eve met these pretty phrases with a look
+of contempt, as much as to say, "While you speak I am putting all that
+into plain vulgar English." The other did not seem to notice it. "To
+leave this interesting topic for a while," said she, languidly, "let
+me consult you, Miss Dodd. I have not, as you may have noticed, great
+abilities, but I have received an excellent education. To say nothing
+of those _soi-disant_ accomplishments with which we adorn and
+sometimes weary society, my dear mother had me well grounded in
+languages and history. Without being eloquent, I have a certain
+fluency, in which, they tell me, even members of Parliament are
+deficient, smoothly as their speeches read made into English by the
+newspapers. Like yourself, Miss Dodd, and all our sex, I am not
+destitute of tact, and tact, you know, is 'the talent of talents.' I
+feel," here she bit her lip, "myself fit for public life. I am
+ambitious."
+
+"Oh, you are, are you?"
+
+"Very; and perhaps you will kindly tell me how I had best direct that
+ambition. The army? No; marching against daisies, and dancing and
+flirting in garrison towns, is frivolous and monotonous too. It isn't
+as if war was raging, trumpets ringing, and squadrons charging. Your
+brother's profession? Not for the world; I am a coward" [consistent].
+"Shall I lower my pretensions to the learned professions?"
+
+"I don't doubt your cleverness, but the learned professions?"
+
+"A woman has a tongue, you know, and that is their grand requisite. I
+interrupted you, Miss Dodd; pray forgive me."
+
+"Well, then, let us go through them. To be a clergyman, what is
+required? To preach, and visit the sick, and feel for them, and
+understand what passes in the sorrowful hearts of the afflicted. Is
+that beyond our sex?"
+
+"That last is far more beyond a man at most times; and oh, the
+discourses one has to sit out in church!"
+
+"Portia made a very passable barrister, Miss Dodd."
+
+"Oh, did she?"
+
+"Why, you know she did; and as for medicine, the great successes there
+are achieved by honeyed words, with a long word thrown in here and
+there. I've heard my own mamma say so. Now which shall I be?"
+
+"I suppose you are making fun of me," said Eve; "but there is many a
+true word spoken in jest. You could be a better, parson, lawyer or
+doctor than nine out of ten, but they won't let us. They know we could
+beat them into fits at anything but brute strength and wickedness, so
+they have shut all those doors in us poor girls' faces."
+
+"There; you see," said Lucy archly, "but two lines are open to our
+honorable ambition, marriage and--water-colors. I think marriage the
+more honorable of the two; above all, it is the more fashionable. Can
+you blame me, then, if my ambition chooses the altar and not the
+easel?"
+
+"So that is what you have been bringing me to."
+
+"You came of your own accord," was the sly retort. "Let me offer you
+some luncheon."
+
+"No, thank you; I could not eat a morsel just now."
+
+Eve went away, her bright little face visibly cast down. It was not
+Miss Fountain's words only, and that new trait of hard satire, which
+she had so suddenly produced from her secret recesses. Her very tones
+were cynical and worldly to Eve's delicate sense of hearing.
+
+"Poor, poor David!" she thought, and when she got to the door of the
+room she sighed; and as she went home she said more than once to
+herself, "No more heart than a marble statue. Oh, how true our first
+thought is! I come back to mine--"
+
+Lucy (sola). _"Then_ what right had she to come here and
+try to turn me inside out?"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+As the hour of Lucy's departure drew near, Mr. Fountain became anxious
+to see her betrothed to his friend, for fear of accidents. "You had
+better propose to her in form, or authorize me to do so, before she
+goes to that Mrs. Bazalgette." This time it was Talboys that hung
+back. He objected that the time was not opportune. "I make no
+advance," said he; "on the contrary, I seem of late to have lost
+ground with your niece."
+
+"Oh, I've seen the sort of distance she has put on; all superficial,
+my dear sir. I read it in your favor. I know the sex; they can't elude
+me. Pique, sir--nothing on earth but female pique. She is bitter
+against us for shilly-shallying. These girls hate shilly-shally in a
+man. They are monopolists--severe monopolists; shilly-shally is one of
+their monopolies. Throw yourself at her feet, and press her with
+ardor; she will clear up directly." The proposed attitude did not
+tempt the stiff Talboys. His pride took the alarm.
+
+"Thank you. It is a position in which I should not care to place
+myself unless I was quite sure of not being refused. No, I will not
+risk my proposal while she is under the influence of this Dodd; he is,
+somehow or other, the cause of her coldness to me."
+
+"Good heavens! why, she has been hermetically sealed against him ever
+so long," cried Fountain, almost angrily.
+
+"I saw his sister come out of your gate only the other day. Sisters
+are emissaries--dangerous ones, too. Who knows? her very coldness may
+be vexation that this man is excluded. Perhaps she suspects me as the
+cause."
+
+"These are chimeras--wild chimeras. My niece cares nothing for such
+people as the Dodds."
+
+"I beg your pardon; these low attachments are the strongest. It is a
+notorious fact."
+
+"There is no attachment; there is nothing but civility, and the
+affability of a well-bred superior to an inferior. Attachment! why,
+there is not a girl in Europe less capable of marrying beneath her;
+and she is too cold to flirt---but with a view to matrimonial
+position. The worst of it is, that, while you fear an imaginary
+danger, you are running into a real one. If we are defeated it will
+not be by Dodd, but by that Mrs. Bazalgette. Why, now I think of it,
+whence does Lucy's coldness date? From that viper's visit to my house.
+Rely on it, if we are suffering from any rival influence, it is that
+woman's. She is a dangerous woman--she is a character I detest--she is
+a schemer."
+
+"Am I to understand that Mrs. Bazalgette has views of her own for Miss
+Fountain?" inquired Talboys, his jealousy half inclined to follow the
+new lead.
+
+"In all probability."
+
+"Oh, then it is mere surmise."
+
+"No, it is not mere surmise; it is the reasonable conjecture of a man
+who knows her sex, and human nature, and life. Since I have my views,
+what more likely than that she has hers, if only to spite me? Add to
+this her strange visit to Font Abbey, and the somber influence she has
+left behind. And to this woman Lucy is going unprotected by any
+positive pledge to you. Here is the true cause for anxiety. And if you
+do not share it with me, it must be that you do not care about our
+alliance."
+
+Mr. Talboys was hurt. "Not care for the alliance? It was dear to
+him--all the dearer for the difficulties. He was attached to Miss
+Fountain--warmly attached; would do anything for her except run the
+risk of an affront--a refusal." Then followed a long discussion, the
+result of which was that he would not propose in form now, but
+_would_ give proofs of his attachment such as no lady could
+mistake; _inter alia,_ he would be sure to spend the last evening
+with her, and would ride the first stage with her next day, squeeze
+her hand at parting, and look unutterable. And as for the formal
+proposal, that was only postponed a week or two. Mr. Fountain was to
+pay his visit to Mrs. Bazalgette, and secretly prepare Miss Fountain;
+then Talboys would suddenly pounce--and pop. The grandeur and boldness
+of this strategy staggered, rather than displeased, Mr. Fountain.
+
+"What! under her own roof?" and he could not help rubbing his hands
+with glee and spite--"under her own eye, and _malgre_ her
+personal influence? Why, you are Nap. I."
+
+"She will be quite out of the way of the Dodds there," said Talboys,
+slyly.
+
+The senior groaned. ("'Mule I.' I should have said.")
+
+
+And so they cut and dried it all.
+
+
+The last evening came, and with it, just before dinner, a line by
+special messenger from Mr. Talboys. "He could not come that evening.
+His brother had just arrived from India; they had not met for seven
+years. He could not set him to dine alone."
+
+After dinner, in the middle of her uncle's nap, in came Lucy, and,
+unheard-of occurrence--deed of dreadful note--woke him. She was
+radiant, and held a note from Eve. "Good news, uncle; those good, kind
+Dodds! they are coming to tea."
+
+"What?" and he wore a look of consternation. Recollecting, however,
+that Talboys was not to be there, he was indifferent again. But when
+he read the note he longed for his self-invited visitors. It ran thus:
+
+
+"DEAR MISS FOUNTAIN--David has found out the genealogy. He says there
+is no doubt you came from the Fountains of Melton, and he can prove
+it. He has proved it to me, and I am none the wiser. So, as David is
+obliged to go away to-morrow, I think the best way is for me to bring
+him over with the papers to-night. We will come at eight, unless you
+have company."
+
+
+"He is a worthy young man," shouted Mr. Fountain. "What o'clock is
+it?"
+
+"Very nearly eight. Oh, uncle, I am so glad. How pleased you will be!"
+
+The Dodds arrived soon after, and while tea was going on David spread
+his parchments on the table and submitted his proofs. He had eked out
+the other evidence by means of a series of leases. The three fields
+that went with Font Abbey had been let a great many times, and the
+landlord's name, Fountain in the latter leases, was Fontaine in those
+of remoter date. David even showed his host the exact date at which
+the change of orthography took place. "You are a shrewd young
+gentleman," cried Mr. Fountain, gleefully.
+
+David then asked him what were the names of his three meadows. The
+names of them? He didn't know they had any.
+
+"No names? Why, there isn't a field in England that hasn't its own
+name, sir. I noticed that before I went to sea." He then told Mr.
+Fountain the names of his three meadows, and curious names they were.
+Two of them were a good deal older than William the Conqueror. David
+wrote them on a slip of paper. He then produced a chart. "What is
+that, Mr. David?"
+
+"A map of the Melton estate, sir."
+
+"Why, how on earth did you get that?"
+
+"An old shipmate of mine lives in that quarter--got him to make it for
+me. Overhaul it, sir; you will find the Melton estate has got all your
+three names within a furlong of the mansion house."
+
+"From this you infer--"
+
+"That one of that house came here, and brought the E along with him
+that has got dropped somehow since, and, being so far from his
+birthplace, he thought he would have one or two of the old names about
+him. What will you bet me he hasn't shot more than one brace of
+partridges on those fields about Melton when he was a boy? So he
+christened your three fields afresh, and the new names took; likely he
+made a point of it with the people in the village. For all that, I
+have found one old fellow who stands out against them to this day. His
+name is Newel. He will persist in calling the field next to your house
+Snap Witcheloe. 'That is what my grandfather allus named it,' says he,
+'and that is the name it went by afore there was ever a Fountain in
+this ere parish.' I have looked in the Parish Register, and I see
+Newel's grandfather was born in 1690. Now, sir, all this is not
+mathematical proof; but, when you come to add it to your own direct
+proofs, that carry you within a cable's length of Port Fontaine, it is
+very convincing; and, not to pay out too much yarn, I'll bet--my
+head--to a China orange--"
+
+"David, don't be vulgar."
+
+"Never mind, Mr. Dodd--be yourself."
+
+"Well, then, to serve Eve out, I'll bet her head (and that is a better
+one than mine) to a China orange that Fontaine and Fountain are one,
+and that the first Fontaine came over here from Melton more than one
+hundred and thirty years ago, and less than one hundred and forty,
+when Newel's grandfather was a young man."
+
+_"Probatum est,"_ shouted old Fountain, his eyes sparkling, his
+voice trembling with emotion. "Miss Fontaine," said he, turning to
+Lucy, throwing a sort of pompous respect into his voice and manner,
+"you shall never marry any man that cannot give you as good a home as
+Melton, and quarter as good a coat of arms with you as your own, the
+Founteyns'." David's heart took a chill as if an ice-arrow had gone
+through it. "So join me to thank our young friend here."
+
+Mr. Fountain held out his hand. David gave his mechanically in return,
+scarcely knowing what he did. "You are a worthy and most intelligent
+young man, and you have made an old man as happy as a lord," said the
+old gentleman, shaking him warmly.
+
+"And there is my hand, too," said Lucy, putting out hers with a blush,
+"to show you I bear you no malice for being more unselfish and more
+sagacious than us all." Instantly David's cold chill fled
+unreasonably. His cheeks burned with blushes, his eyes glowed, his
+heart thumped, and the delicate white, supple, warm, velvet hand that
+nestled in his shot electric tremors through his whole frame, when
+glided, with well-bred noiselessness, through the open door, Mr.
+Talboys, and stood looking yellow at that ardent group, and the
+massive yet graceful bare arm stretched across the table, and the
+white hand melting into the brown one.
+
+
+While he stood staring, David looked up, and caught that strange, that
+yellow look. Instantly a light broke in on him. "So I should look,"
+felt David, "if I saw her hand in his." He held Lucy's hand tight (she
+was just beginning to withdraw it), and glared from his seat on the
+newcomer like a lion ready to spring. Eve read and turned pale; she
+knew what was in the man's blood.
+
+
+Lucy now quietly withdrew her hand, and turned with smiling composure
+toward the newcomer, and Mr. Fountain thrust a minor anxiety between
+the passions of the rivals. He rose hastily, and went to Talboys, and,
+under cover of a warm welcome, took care to let him know Miss Dodd had
+been kind enough to invite herself and David. He then explained with
+uneasy animation what David had done for him.
+
+Talboys received all this with marked coldness; but it gave him time
+to recover his self-possession. He shook hands with Lucy, all but
+ignored David and Eve, and quietly assumed the part of principal
+personage. He then spoke to Lucy in a voice tuned for the occasion, to
+give the impression that confidential communication was not unusual
+between him and her. He apologized, scarce above a whisper, for not
+having come to dinner on her last day.
+
+"But after dinner," said he, "my brother seemed fatigued. I
+treacherously recommended bed. You forgive me? The nabob instantly
+acted on my selfish hint. I mounted my horse, and _me voila."_ In
+short, in two minutes he had retaliated tenfold on David. As for Lucy,
+she was a good deal amused at this sudden public assumption of a
+tenderness the gentleman had never exhibited in private, but a little
+mortified at his parade of mysterious familiarity; still, for a
+certain female reason, she allowed neither to appear, but wore an air
+of calm cordiality, and gave Talboys his full swing.
+
+David, seated sore against his will at another table, whither Mr.
+Fountain removed him and parchments on pretense of inspecting the
+leases, listened with hearing preternaturally keen--listened and
+writhed.
+
+His back was toward them. At last he heard Talboys propose in
+murmuring accents to accompany her the first stage of her journey. She
+did not answer directly, and that second was an age of anguish to poor
+David.
+
+When she did answer, as if to compensate for her hesitation, she said,
+with alacrity: "I shall be delighted; it will vary the journey most
+agreeably; I will ride the pony you were so kind as to give me."
+
+The letters swam before David's eyes.
+
+Lucy came to the table, and, standing close behind David--so close
+that he felt her pure cool breath mingle with his hair, said to her
+uncle: "Mr. Talboys proposes to me to ride the first stage to-morrow;
+if I do, you must be of the party."
+
+"Oh, must I? Well, I'll roll after you in my phaeton."
+
+At this moment Eve could bear no longer the anguish on David's beloved
+face. It made her hysterical. She could hardly command herself. She
+rose hastily, and saying, "We must not keep you up the night before a
+journey," took leave with David. As he shook hands with Lucy, his
+imploring eye turned full on hers, and sought to dive into her heart.
+But that soft sapphire eye was unfathomable. It was like those dark
+blue southern waters that seem to reveal all, yet hide all, so deep
+they are, though clear.
+
+
+Eve. "Thank Heaven, we are safe out of the house."
+
+David. "I have got a rival."
+
+Eve. "A pretty rival; she doesn't care a button for him."
+
+David. "He rides the first stage with her."
+
+Eve. "Well, what of that?"
+
+David. "I have got a rival."
+
+
+David was none of your lie-a-beds. He rose at five in summer, six in
+winter, and studied hard till breakfast time; after that he was at
+every fool's service. This morning he did not appear at the breakfast
+table, and the servant had not seen him about. Eve ran upstairs full
+of anxiety. He was not in his room. The bed had not been slept in; the
+impress of his body outside showed, however, that he had flung himself
+down on it to snatch an uneasy slumber.
+
+Eve sent the girl into the village to see if she could find him or
+hear tidings of him. The girl ran out without her bonnet, partaking
+her mistress's anxiety, but did not return for nearly half an hour,
+that seemed an age to Eve. The girl had lost some time by going to
+Josh Grace for information. Grace's house stood in an orchard; so he
+was the unlikeliest man in the village to have seen David. She set
+against this trivial circumstance the weighty one that he was her
+sweetheart, and went to him first.
+
+"I hain't a-sin him, Sue; thee hadst better ask at the blacksmith's
+shop," said Joshua Grace.
+
+Susan profited by this hint, and learned at the blacksmith's shop that
+David had gone by up the road about six in the morning, walking very
+fast. She brought the news to Eve.
+
+"Toward Royston?"
+
+"Yes, miss; but, la! he won't ever think to go all the way to
+Royston--without his breakfast."
+
+"That will do, Susan. I think I know what he is gone for."
+
+On the servant retiring, her assumed firmness left her.
+
+"On the road _she_ is to travel! and his rival with her. What mad
+act is he going to do? Heaven have mercy on him, and me, and her!"
+
+Eve knew what was in the man's blood. She sat trembling at home till
+she could bear it no longer. She put on her bonnet, and sallied out on
+the road to Royston, determined to stop the carriage, profess to have
+business at Royston, and take a seat beside Mr. Fountain. She felt
+that the very sight of her might prevent David from committing any
+great rashness or folly. On reaching the high road, she observed a
+fresh track of narrow wheels, that her rustic experience told her
+could only be those of a four-wheeled carriage, and, making inquiries,
+she found she was too late; carriage and riders had gone on before.
+
+Her heart sank. Too late by a few minutes; but somehow she could not
+turn back. She walked as fast as she could after the gay cavalcade, a
+prey to one of those female anxieties we have all laughed at as
+extravagant, proved unreasonable, and sometimes found prophetic.
+
+Meantime Lucy and Mr. Talboys cantered gayly along; Mr. Fountain
+rolled after in a phaeton; the traveling carriage came last. Lucy was
+in spirits; motion enlivens us all, but especially such of us as are
+women. She had also another cause for cheerfulness, that may perhaps
+transpire. Her two companions and unconscious dependents were governed
+by her mood. She made them larks to-day, as she had owls for some
+weeks past, last night excepted. She would fall back every now and
+then, and let Uncle Fountain pass her; then come dashing up to him,
+and either pull up short with a piece of solemn information like an
+_aid-de-camp_ from headquarters, or pass him shooting a shaft of
+raillery back into his chariot, whereat he would rise with mock fury
+and yell a repartee after her. Fountain found himself good
+company--Talboys himself. It was not the lady; oh dear no! it never
+is.
+
+At last all seemed so bright, and Mr. Talboys found himself so
+agreeable, that he suddenly recalled his high resolve not to pop in a
+county desecrated by Dodds. "I'll risk it now," said he; and he rode
+back to Fountain and imparted his intention, and the senior nearly
+bounded off his seat. He sounded the charge in a stage whisper,
+because of the coachman, "At her at once!"
+
+"Secret conference? hum!" said Lucy, twisting her pony, and looking
+slyly back.
+
+Mr. Talboys rejoined her, and, after a while, began in strange,
+melodious accents, "You will leave a blank--"
+
+"Shall we canter?" said Lucy, gayly, and off went the pony. Talboys
+followed, and at the next hill resumed the sentimental cadence.
+
+"You will leave a sad blank here, Miss Fountain."
+
+"No greater than I found," replied the lady, innocently (?). "Oh,
+dear!" she cried, with sudden interest, "I am afraid I have dropped my
+comb." She felt under her hat. [No, viper, you have not dropped your
+comb, but you are feeling for a large black pin with a head to it.
+There, you have found it, and taken it out of your hair, and got it
+hid in your hand. What is that for?]
+
+"Ten times greater," moaned the honeyed Talboys; "for then we had not
+seen you. Ah! my dear Miss Fountain--The devil! wo-ho, Goliah!"
+
+For the pony spilled the treacle. He lashed out both heels with a
+squeak of amazement within an inch of Mr. Talboys' horse, which
+instantly began to rear, and plunge, and snort. While Talboys, an
+excellent horseman, was calming his steed, Lucy was condoling with
+hers. "Dear little naughty fellow!" said she, patting him ["I did it
+too hard"].
+
+"As I was saying, the blessing we have never enjoyed we do not miss;
+but, now that you have shone upon us, what can reconcile us to lose
+you, unless it be the hope that--Hallo!"
+
+Lucy. "Ah!"
+
+The pony was off with a bound like a buck. She had found out the right
+depth of pin this time. "Ah! where is my whip? I have dropped it; how
+careless!" Then they had to ride back for the whip, and by this means
+joined Mr. Fountain. Lucy rode by his side, and got the carriage
+between her and her beau. By this plan she not only evaded sentiment,
+but matured by a series of secret trials her skill with her weapon.
+Armed with this new science, she issued forth, and, whenever Mr.
+Talboys left off indifferent remarks and sounded her affections, she
+probed the pony, and he kicked or bolted as the case might require.
+
+"Confound that pony!" cried Talboys; "he used to be quiet enough."
+
+"Oh, don't scold him, dear, playful little love. He carries me like a
+wave."
+
+At this simple sentence Talboys' dormant jealousy contrived to revive.
+He turned sulky, and would not waste any more tenderness, and
+presently they rattled over the stones of Royston. Lucy commended her
+pony with peculiar earnestness to the ostler. "Pray groom him well,
+and feed him well, sir; he is a love." The ostler swore he would not
+wrong her ladyship's nag for the world.
+
+Lucy then expressed her desire to go forward without delay: "Aunt will
+expect me." She took her seat in the carriage, bade a kind farewell to
+both the gentlemen now that no tender answer was possible, and was
+whirled away.
+
+Thus the coy virgin eluded the pair.
+
+Now her manner in taking leave of Talboys was so kind, so smiling (in
+the sweet consciousness of having baffled him), that Fountain felt
+sure it all had gone smoothly. They were engaged.
+
+"Well?" he cried, with great animation.
+
+"No," was the despondent reply.
+
+"Refused?" screeched the other; "impossible!"
+
+"No, thank you," was the haughty reply.
+
+"What then? Did you change your mind? Didn't you propose after all?"
+
+"I _couldn't._ That d--d pony wouldn't keep still."
+
+Fountain groaned.
+
+
+Lucy, left to herself, gave a little sigh of relief. She had been
+playing a part for the last twenty-four hours. Her cordiality with Mr.
+Talboys naturally misled Eve and David, and perhaps a male reader or
+two. Shall I give the clue? It may be useful to you, young gentlemen.
+Well, then, her sex are compounders. Accustomed from childhood never
+to have anything entirely their own way, they are content to give and
+take; and, these terms once accepted, it is a point of honor and tact
+with them not to let a creature see the irksome part of the bargain is
+not as delicious as the other. One coat of their own varnish goes over
+the smooth and the rough, the bitter and the sweet.
+
+Now Lucy, besides being singularly polite and kind, was _femme
+jusqu' au bout des ongles._ If her instincts had been reasons, and
+her vague thoughts could have been represented by anything so definite
+as words, the result might have appeared thus:
+
+"A few hours, and you can bore me no more, Mr. Talboys. Now what must
+I do for you in return? _Seem not to be bored to-day? Mais c'est la
+moindre des choses. Seem to be pleased with your society?_ Why not?
+it is only for an hour or two, and my seeming to like it will not
+prolong it. My heart swells with happiness at the thought of escaping
+from you, good bore; you shall share my happiness, good bore. It is so
+kind of you not to bore me to all eternity."
+
+This was why the last night she sat like Patience on an ottoman
+smiling on Talboys and racking David's heart; and this was why she
+made the ride so pleasant to those she was at heart glad to leave,
+till they tried sentiment on, and then she was an eel directly, pony
+and all.
+
+Lucy (sola). "That is over. Poor Mr. Talboys! Does he fancy he
+has an attachment? No; I please and I am courted wherever I go, but I
+have never been loved. If a man loved me I should see it in his face,
+I should feel it without a word spoken. Once or twice I fancied I saw
+it in one man's eyes: they seemed like a lion's that turned to a
+dove's as they looked at me." Lucy closed her own eyes and recalled
+her impression: "It must have been fancy. Ought I to wish to inspire
+such a passion as others have inspired? No, for I could never return
+it. The very language of passion in romances seems so extravagant to
+me, yet so beautiful. It is hard I should not be loved, merely because
+I cannot love. Many such natures have been adored. I could not bear to
+die and not be loved as deeply as ever woman was loved. I must be
+loved, adored and worshiped: it would be so sweet--sweet!" She slowly
+closed her eyes, and the long lovely lashes drooped, and a celestial
+smile parted her lips as she fell into a vague, delicious reverie.
+Suddenly the carriage stopped at the foot of a hill. She opened her
+eyes, and there stood David Dodd at the carriage window.
+
+Lucy put her head out. "Why, it is Mr. Dodd! Oh, Mr. Dodd, is there
+anything the matter?"
+
+"No."
+
+"You look so pale."
+
+"Do I?" and he flushed faintly.
+
+"Which way are you going?"
+
+"I am going home again now," said David, sorrowfully.
+
+"You came all this way to bid me good-by," and she arched her eyebrows
+and laughed--a little uneasily.
+
+"It didn't seem a step. It will seem longer going back."
+
+"No, no, you shall ride back. My pony is at the White Horse; will you
+not ride my pony back for me? then I shall know he will be kindly
+used; a stranger would whip him."
+
+"I should think my arm would wither if I ill-used him."
+
+"You are very good. I suppose it is because you are so brave."
+
+"Me brave? I don't feel so. Am I to tell him to drive on?" and he
+looked at her with haggard and imploring eyes.
+
+Her eyes fell before his.
+
+"Good-by, then," said she.
+
+He cried with a choking voice to the postilion, "Go ahead."
+
+The carriage went on and left him standing in the road, his head upon
+his breast.
+
+
+At the steepest part of the hill a trace broke, and the driver drew
+the carriage across the hill and shouted to David. He came running up,
+and put a large stone behind each wheel.
+
+Lucy was alarmed. "Mr. Dodd! let me out."
+
+He handed her out. The postboy was at a _nonplus;_ but David
+whipped a piece of cord and a knife out of his pocket, and began, with
+great rapidity and dexterity, to splice the trace.
+
+"Ah! now you are pleased, Mr. Dodd; our misfortune will elicit your
+skill in emergencies."
+
+"Oh, no, it isn't that; it is--I never hoped to see you again so
+soon."
+
+Lucy colored, and her eyes sought the ground; the splice was soon
+made.
+
+"There!" said David; "I could have spent an hour over it; but you
+would have been vexed, and the bitter moment must have come at last."
+
+
+"God bless you, Miss Fountain--oh! mayn't I say Miss Lucy to-day?" he
+cried, imploringly.
+
+"Of course you may," said Lucy, the tears rising in her eyes at his
+sad face and beseeching look. "Oh, Mr. Dodd, parting with those we
+esteem is always sad enough; I got away from the door without
+crying--for once; don't _you_ make me cry."
+
+"Make you cry?" cried David, as it he had been suspected of
+sacrilege; "God forbid!" He muttered in a choking voice, "You give the
+word of command, for I can't."
+
+"You can go on," said her soft, clear voice; but first she gave David
+her hand with a gentle look--"Good-by."
+
+But David could not speak to her. He held her hand tight in both his
+powerful hands. They seemed iron to her--shaking, trembling, grasping
+iron. The carriage went slowly on, and drew her hand away. She shrank
+into a corner of the carriage; he frightened her.
+
+He followed the carriage to the brow of the hill, then sat down upon a
+heap of stones, and looked despairingly after it.
+
+
+Meantime Lucy put her head in her hands and blushed, though she was
+all alone. "How dare he forget the distance between us? Poor fellow!
+have not I at times forgotten it? I am worse than he. I lost my
+self-possession; I should have checked his folly; he knows nothing of
+_les convenances._ He has hurt my hand, he is so rough; I feel
+his clutch now; there, I thought so, it is all red--poor fellow!
+Nonsense! he is a sailor; he knows nothing of the world and its
+customs. Parting with a pleasant acquaintance forever made him a
+little sad.
+
+"He is all nature; he is like nobody else; he shows every feeling
+instead of concealing it, that is all. He has gone home, I hope." She
+glanced hastily back. He was sitting on the stones, his arms drooping,
+his head bowed, a picture of despondency. She put her face in her
+hands again and pondered, blushing higher and higher. Then the pale
+face that had always been ruddy before, the simple grief and
+agitation, the manly eye that did not know how to weep, but was so
+clouded and troubled, and wildly sad; the shaking hands, that had
+clutched hers like a drowning man's (she felt them still), the
+quivering features, choked voice, and trembling lip, all these
+recoiled with double force upon her mind: they touched her far more
+than sobs and tears would have done, her sex's ready signs of shallow
+grief.
+
+Two tears stole down her cheeks.
+
+"If he would but go home and forget me!" She glanced hastily back.
+David was climbing up a tree, active as a cat. "He is like nobody
+else--he! he! Stay! is that to see the last of me--the very last? Poor
+soul! Madman, how will this end? What can come of it but misery to
+him, remorse to me?
+
+"This is love." She half closed her eyes and smiled, repeating, "This
+is love.
+
+"Oh how I despise all the others and their feeble flatteries!"
+
+"Heaven forgive me my mad, my wicked wish!
+
+"I _am_ beloved.
+
+"I am adored.
+
+"I am miserable!"
+
+
+As soon as the carriage was out of sight, David came down and hurried
+from the place. He found the pony at the inn. The ostler had not even
+removed his saddle.
+
+           "Methought that ostler did protest too much."
+
+David kissed the saddle and the pommels, and the bridle her hand had
+held, and led the pony out. After walking a mile or two he mounted the
+pony, to sit in her seat, not for ease. Walking thirty miles was
+nothing to this athlete; sticking on and holding on with his chin on
+his knee was rather fatiguing.
+
+Meantime, Eve walked on till she was four miles from home. No David.
+She sat down and cried a little space, then on again. She had just
+reached an angle in the road, when--clatter, clatter--David came
+cantering around with his knee in his mouth. Eve gave a joyful scream,
+and up went both her hands with sudden delight. At the double shock to
+his senses the pony thought his end was come, and perhaps the world's.
+He shied slap into the hedge and stuck there--alone; for, his rider
+swaying violently the reverse way, the girths burst, the saddle peeled
+off the pony's back, and David sat griping the pommel of the saddle in
+the middle of the road at Eve's feet, looking up in her face with an
+uneasy grin, while dust rose around him in a little column. Eve
+screeched, and screeched, and screeched; then fell to, with a face as
+red as a turkey-cock's, and beat David furiously, and hurt--her little
+hands.
+
+David laughed. This incident did him good--shook him up a bit. The
+pony groveled out of the ditch and cantered home, squeaking at
+intervals and throwing his heels.
+
+David got up, hoisted the side saddle on to his square shoulders, and,
+keeping it there by holding the girths, walked with Eve toward Font
+Abbey. She was now a little ashamed of her apprehensions; and,
+besides, when she leathered David, she was, in her own mind, serving
+him out for both frights. At all events, she did not scold him, but
+kindly inquired his adventures, and he told her what he had done and
+said, and what Miss Fountain had said.
+
+The account disappointed Eve. "All this is just a pack of nothing,"
+said she. "It is two lovers parting, or it is two common friendly
+acquaintances; all depends on how it was done, and that you don't tell
+me." Then she put several subtle questions as to the looks, and tones
+and manner of the young lady. David could not answer them. On this she
+informed him he was a fool.
+
+"So I begin to think," said he.
+
+"There! be quiet," said she, "and let me think it over."
+
+"Ay! ay!" said he.
+
+While he was being quiet and letting her think a carriage came rapidly
+up behind them, with a horseman riding beside it; and, as the
+pedestrians drew aside, an ironical voice fell upon them, and the
+carriage and horseman stopped, and floured, them with dust.
+
+
+Messrs. Talboys and Fountain took a stroll to look at the new jail
+that was building in Royston, and, as they returned, Talboys, whose
+wounded pride had now fermented, told Mr. Fountain plainly that he saw
+nothing for it but to withdraw his pretensions to Miss Fountain.
+
+"My own feelings are not sufficiently engaged for me to play the
+up-hill game of overcoming her disinclination."
+
+"Disinclination? The mere shyness of a modest girl. If she was to be
+'won unsought,' she would not be worthy to be Mrs. Talboys."
+
+"Her worth is indisputable," said Mr. Talboys, "but that is no reason
+why I should force upon her my humble claims."
+
+The moment his friend's pride began to ape humility, Fountain saw the
+wound it had received was incurable. He sighed and was silent.
+Opposition would only have set fire to opposition.
+
+They went home together in silence. On the road Talboys caught sight
+of a tall gentleman carrying a side-saddle, and a little lady walking
+beside him. He recognized his _bete noir_ with a grim smile. Here
+at least was one he had defeated and banished from the fair. What on
+earth was the man doing? Oh, he had been giving his sister a ride on a
+donkey, and they had met with an accident. Mr. Talboys was in a humor
+for revenge, so he pulled up, and in a somewhat bantering voice
+inquired where was the steed.
+
+"Oh, he is in port by now," said David.
+
+"Do you usually ease the animal of that part of his burden, sir?"
+
+"No," said David, sullenly.
+
+Eve, who hated Mr. Talboys, and saw through his sneers, bit her lip
+and colored, but kept silence.
+
+But Mr. Talboys, unwarned by her flashing eye, proceeded with his
+ironical interrogatory, and then it was that Eve, reflecting that both
+these gentlemen had done their worst against David, and that
+henceforth the battlefield could never again be Font Abbey, decided
+for revenge. She stepped forward like an airy sylph, between David and
+his persecutor, and said, with a charming smile, "I will explain,
+sir."
+
+Mr. Talboys bowed and smiled.
+
+"The reason my brother carries this side-saddle is that it belongs to
+a charming young lady--you have some little acquaintance with
+her--Miss Fountain."
+
+"Miss Fountain!" cried Talboys, in a tone from which all the irony was
+driven out by Eve's coup.
+
+"She begged David to ride her pony home; she would not trust him to
+anybody else."
+
+"Oh!" said Talboys, stupefied.
+
+"Well, sir, owing to--to--an accident, the saddle came off, and the
+pony ran home; so then David had only her saddle to take care of for
+her."
+
+"Why, we escorted Miss Fountain to Royston, and we never saw Mr.
+Dodd."
+
+"Ay, but you did not go beyond Royston," said Eve, with a cunning air.
+
+"Beyond Royston? where? and what was he doing there? Did he go all
+that way to take her orders about her pony?" said Talboys, bitterly.
+
+"Oh, as to that you must excuse me, sir," cried Eve, with a scornful
+laugh; "that is being too inquisitive. Good-morning"; and she carried
+David off in triumph.
+
+The next moment Mr. Talboys spurred on, followed by the phaeton.
+Talboys' face was yellow.
+
+_"La langue d'une femme est son epee."_
+
+"Sheer off and repair damages, you lubber," said David, dryly, "and
+don't come under our guns again, or we shall blow you out of the
+water. Hum! Eve, wasn't your tongue a little too long for your teeth
+just now?"
+
+"Not an inch."
+
+"She might be vexed; it is not for me to boast of her kindness."
+
+"Temper won't let a body see everything. I'll tell you what I have
+done, too--I've declared war."
+
+"Have you? Then run the Jack up to the mizzen-top, and let us fight it
+out."
+
+"That is the way to look at it, David. Now don't you speak to me till
+we get home; let me think."
+
+At the gate of Font Abbey, they parted, and Eve went home. David came
+to the stable yard and hailed, "Stable ahoy!" Out ran a little
+bandy-legged groom. "The craft has gone adrift," cried David, "but
+I've got the gear safe. Stow it away"; and as he spoke he chucked the
+saddle a distance of some six yards on to the bandy-legged groom, who
+instantly staggered back and sank on a little dunghill, and there sat,
+saddled, with two eyes like saucers, looking stupefied surprise
+between the pommels.
+
+"It is you for capsizing in a calm," remarked David, with some
+surprise, and went his way.
+
+
+"Well, Eve, have you thought?"
+
+"Yes, David, I was a little hasty; that puppy would provoke a saint.
+After all there is no harm done; they can't hurt us much now. It is
+not here the game will be played out. Now tell me, when does your ship
+sail?"
+
+"It wants just five weeks to a day."
+
+"Does she take up her passengers at ---- as usual?"
+
+"Yes, Eve, yes."
+
+"And Mrs. Bazalgette lives within a mile or two of ----. You have a
+good excuse for accepting her invitation. Stay your last week in her
+house. There will be no Talboys to come between you. Do all a man can
+do to win her in that week."
+
+"I will."
+
+"And if she says 'No,' be man enough to tear her out of your heart."
+
+"I can't tear her out of my heart, but I will win her. I must win her.
+I can't live without her. A month to wait!"
+
+
+Mr. Talboys. "Well, sir, what do you say now?"
+
+Mr. Fountain (hypocritically). "I say that your sagacity was
+superior to mine; forgive me if I have brought you into a mortifying
+collision. To be defeated by a merchant sailor!" He paused to see the
+effect of his poisoned shaft.
+
+Talboys. "But I am not defeated. I will not be defeated. It is
+no longer a personal question. For your sake, for her sake, I must
+save her from a degrading connection. I will accompany you to Mrs.
+Bazalgette's. When shall we go?"
+
+"Well, not immediately; it would look so odd. The old one would smell
+a rat directly. Suppose we say in a month's time."
+
+"Very well; I shall have a clear stage."
+
+"Yes, and I shall then use all my influence with her. Hitherto I have
+used none."
+
+"Thank you. Mr. Dodd cannot penetrate there, I conclude."
+
+"Of course not."
+
+"Then she will be Mrs. Talboys."
+
+"Of course she will."
+
+
+Lucy sighed a little over David's ardent, despairing passion, and his
+pale and drawn face. Her woman's instinct enabled her to comprehend in
+part a passion she was at this period of her life incapable of
+feeling, and she pitied him. He was the first of her admirers she had
+ever pitied. She sighed a little, then fretted a little, then
+reproached herself vaguely. "I must have been guilty of some
+imprudence--given some encouragement. Have I failed in womanly
+reserve, or is it all his fault? He is a sailor. Sailors are like
+nobody else. He is so simple-minded. He sees, no doubt, that he is my
+superior in all sterling qualities, and that makes him forget the
+social distance between him and me. And yet why suspect him of
+audacity? Poor fellow, he had not the courage to _say_ anything
+to me, after all. No; he will go to sea, and forget his folly before
+he comes back." Then she had a gust of egotism. It was nice to be
+loved ardently and by a hero, even though that hero was not a
+gentleman of distinction, scarcely a gentleman at all. The next moment
+she blushed at her own vanity. Next she was seized with a sense of the
+great indelicacy and unpardonable impropriety of letting her mind run
+at all upon a person of the other sex; and shaking her lovely
+shoulders, as much as to say, "Away idle thoughts," she nestled and
+fitted with marvelous suppleness into a corner of the carriage, and
+sank into a sweet sleep, with a red cheek, two wet eyelashes, and a
+half-smile of the most heavenly character imaginable. And so she
+glided along till, at five in the afternoon, the carriage turned in at
+Mr. Bazalgette's gates. Lucy lifted her eyes, and there was quite a
+little group standing on the steps to receive her, and waving welcome
+to the universal pet. There was Mr. Bazalgette, Mrs. Bazalgette, and
+two servants, and a little in the rear a tall stranger of
+gentleman-like appearance.
+
+The two ladies embraced one another so rapidly yet so smoothly, and so
+dovetailed and blended, that they might be said to flow together, and
+make one in all but color, like the Saone and the Rhone. After half a
+dozen kisses given and returned with a spirit and rapidity from which,
+if we male spectators of these ardent encounters were wise, we might
+slyly learn a lesson, Aunt Bazalgette suddenly darted her mouth at
+Lucy's ear, and whispered a few words with an animation that struck
+everybody present. Lucy smiled in reply. After "the meeting of the
+muslins," Mr. Bazalgette shook hands warmly, and at last Lucy was
+introduced to his friend Mr. Hardie, who expressed in courteous terms
+his hopes that her journey had been a pleasant one.
+
+
+The animated words Mrs. Bazalgette whispered into Lucy's ear at that
+moment of burning affection were as follows:
+
+"You have had it washed!"
+
+
+Lucy (unpacking her things in her bedroom). "Who is Mr. Hardie,
+dear?"
+
+"What! don't you know? Mr. Hardie is the great banker."
+
+"Only a banker? I should have taken him for something far more
+distinguished. His manner is good. There is a suavity without
+feebleness or smallness."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette's eye flashed, but she answered with apparent
+nonchalance: "I am glad you like him; you will take him off my hands
+now and then. He must not be neglected; Bazalgette would murder us.
+_Apropos,_ remind me to ask him to tell you Mr. Hardie's story,
+and how he comes to be looked up to like a prince in this part of the
+world, though he is only a banker, with only ten thousand a year."
+
+"You make me quite curious, aunt. Cannot you tell me?"
+
+"Me? Oh, dear, no! Paper currency, foreign loans, government
+securities, gold mines, ten per cents, Mr. Peel, and why _one_
+breaks and _another_ doesn't! all that is quite beyond me.
+Bazalgette is your man. I had no idea your mousseline-delame would
+have washed so well. Why, it looks just out of the shop; it--" Come
+away, reader, for Heaven's sake!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+THE man whom Mr. Bazalgette introduced so smoothly and off-hand to
+Lucy Fountain exercised a terrible influence over her life, as you
+will see by and by. This alone would make it proper to lay his
+antecedents before the reader. But he has independent claims to this
+notice, for he is a principal figure in my work. The history of this
+remarkable man's fortune is a study. The progress of his mind is
+another, and its past as well as its future are the very corner-stone
+of that capacious story which I am now building brick by brick, after
+my fashion where the theme is large. I invite my reader, therefore, to
+resist the natural repugnance which delicate minds feel to the ring of
+the precious metals, and for the sake of the coming story to accompany
+me into AN OLD BANK.
+
+The Hardies were goldsmiths in the seventeenth century; and when that
+business split, and the deposit and bill-of-exchange business went one
+way, and the plate and jewels another, they became bankers from father
+to son. A peculiarity attended them; they never broke, nor even
+cracked. Jew James Hardie conducted for many years a smooth,
+unostentatious and lucrative business. It professed to be a bank of
+deposit only, and not of discount. This was not strictly true. There
+never was a bank in creation that did not discount under the rose,
+when the paper represented commercial effects, and the indorsers were
+customers and favorites. But Mr. Hardie's main business was in
+deposits bearing no interest. It was of that nature known as "the
+legitimate banking business," a title not, I think, invented by the
+customers, since it is a system destitute of that reciprocity which is
+the soul of all just and legitimate commercial relations.
+
+You shall lend me your money gratis, and I will lend it out at
+interest: such is legitimate banking--in the opinion of bankers.
+
+This system, whose decay we have seen, and whose death my young
+readers are like to see, flourished under old Hardie, green--as the
+public in whose pockets its roots were buried.
+
+Country gentlemen and noblemen, and tradesmen well-to-do, left
+floating balances varying from seven, five, three thousand pounds,
+down to a hundred or two, in his hands. His art consisted in keeping
+his countenance, receiving them with the air of a person conferring a
+favor, and investing the bulk of them in government securities, which
+in that day returned four and five per cent. As he did not pay one
+shilling for the use of the capital, he pocketed the whole interest. A
+small part of the aggregate balance was not invested, but remained in
+the bank coffers as a reserve to meet any accidental drain. It was a
+point of honor with the squires and rectors, who shared their incomes
+with him in a grateful spirit, never to draw their balances down too
+low; and more than once in this banker's career a gentleman has
+actually borrowed money for a month or two of the bank at four per
+cent, rather than exhaust his deposit, or, in other words, paid his
+debtor interest for the temporary use of his own everlasting property.
+Such capitalists are not to be found in our day; they may reappear at
+the Millennium.
+
+The banker had three clerks; one a youth and very subordinate, the
+other two steady old men, at good salaries, who knew the affairs of
+the bank, but did not chatter them out of doors, because they were
+allowed to talk about them to their employer; and this was a vent. The
+tongue must have a regular vent or random explosions--choose! Besides
+the above compliment paid to years of probity and experience, the
+ancient _regime_ bound these men to the interest and person of
+their chief by other simple customs now no more.
+
+At each of the four great festivals of the Church they dined with Mr.
+and Mrs. Hardie, and were feasted and cordially addressed as equals,
+though they could not be got to reply in quite the same tone. They
+were never scorned, but a peculiar warmth of esteem and friendship was
+shown them on these occasions. One reason was, the old-fangled banker
+himself aspired to no higher character than that of a man of business,
+and were not these clerks men of business good and true? his staff,
+not his menials?
+
+And since I sneered just now at a vital simplicity, let me hasten to
+own that here, at least, it was wise, as well as just and worthy.
+Where men are forever handling heaps of money, it is prudent to
+fortify them doubly against temptation--with self-respect, and a
+sufficient salary.
+
+It is one thing not to be led into temptation (accident on which half
+the virtue in the world depends), another to live in it and overcome
+it; and in a bank it is not the conscience only that is tempted, but
+the senses. Piles of glittering gold, amiable as Hesperian fruit;
+heaps of silver paper, that seem to whisper as they rustle, "Think how
+great we are, yet see how little; we are fifteen thousand pounds, yet
+we can go into your pocket; whip us up, and westward ho! If you have
+not the courage for that, at all events wet your finger; a dozen of us
+will stick to it. That pen in your hand has but to scratch that book
+there, and who will know? Besides, you can always put us back, you
+know."
+
+Hundreds and thousands of men take a share in the country's public
+morality, legislate, build churches, and live and die respectable, who
+would be jail-birds sooner or later if their sole income was the pay
+of a banker's clerk, and their eyes, and hands, and souls rubbed daily
+against hundred-pound notes as his do. I tell you it is a temptation
+of forty-devil power.
+
+Not without reason, then, did this ancient banker bestow some respect
+and friendship on those who, tempted daily, brought their hands pure,
+Christmas after Christmas, to their master's table. Not without reason
+did Mrs. Hardie pet them like princes at the great festivals, and
+always send them home in the carriage as persons their entertainers
+delighted to honor. Herein I suspect she looked also, woman-like, to
+their security; for they were always expected to be solemnly, not
+improperly, intoxicated by the end of supper; no wise fuddled, but
+muddled; for the graceful superstition of the day suspected severe
+sobriety at solemnities as churlish and ungracious.
+
+The bank itself was small and grave, and a trifle dingy, and bustle
+there was none in it; but if the stream of business looked sluggish
+and narrow, it was deep and quietly incessant, and tended all one
+way--to enrich the proprietor without a farthing risked.
+
+Old Hardie had sat there forty years with other people's money
+overflowing into his lap as it rolled deep and steady through that
+little counting-house, when there occurred, or rather recurred, a
+certain phenomenon, which comes, with some little change of features,
+in a certain cycle of commercial changes as regularly as the month of
+March in the year, or the neap-tides, or the harvest moon, but,
+strange to say, at each visit takes the country by surprise.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE nation had passed through the years of exhaustion and depression
+that follow a long war; its health had returned, and its elastic vigor
+was already reviving, when two remarkable harvests in succession, and
+an increased trade with the American continent, raised it to
+prosperity. One sign of vigor, the roll of capital, was wanting;
+speculation was fast asleep. The government of the day seems to have
+observed this with regret. A writer of authority on the subject says
+that, to stir stagnant enterprise, they directed "the Bank of England
+to issue about four millions in advances to the state and in enlarged
+discounts." I give you the man's words; they doubtless carry a
+signification to you, though they are jargon in a fog to me. Some
+months later the government took a step upon very different motives,
+which incidentally had a powerful effect in loosening capital and
+setting it in agitation. They reduced to four per cent the Navy Five
+per Cents, a favorite national investment, which represented a capital
+of two hundred millions. Now, when men have got used to five per cent
+from a certain quarter, they cannot be content with four, particularly
+the small holders; so this reduction of the Navy Five per Cents
+unsettled several thousand capitalists, and disposed them to search
+for an investment. A flattering one offered itself in the nick of
+time. Considerable attention had been drawn of late to the mineral
+wealth of South America, and one or two mining companies existed, but
+languished in the hands of professed speculators. The public now broke
+like a sudden flood into these hitherto sluggish channels of
+enterprise, and up went the shares to a high premium.
+
+Almost contemporaneously, numerous joint-stock companies were formed,
+and directed toward schemes of internal industry. The small
+capitalists that had sold out of the Navy Five per Cents threw
+themselves into them all, and being bona fide speculators, drew
+hundreds in their train. Adventure, however, was at first restrained
+in some degree by the state of the currency. It was low, and rested on
+a singularly sound basis. Mr. Peel's Currency Bill had been some
+months in operation; by its principal provision the Bank of England
+was compelled on and after a certain date to pay gold for its notes on
+demand. The bank, anticipating a consequent rush for gold, had
+collected vast quantities of sovereigns, the new coin; but the rush
+never came, for a mighty simple reason. Gold is convenient in small
+sums, but a burden and a nuisance in large ones. It betrays its
+presence and invites robbers; it is a bore to lug it about, and a
+fearful waste of golden time to count it. Men run upon gold only when
+they have reason to distrust paper. But Mr. Peel's Bill, instead of
+damaging Bank of England paper, solidified it, and gave the nation a
+just and novel confidence in it. Thus, then, the large hoard of gold,
+fourteen to twenty millions, that the caution of the bank directors
+had accumulated in their coffers, remained uncalled for. But so large
+an abstraction from the specie of the realm contracted the provincial
+circulation. The small business of the country moved in fetters, so
+low was the metal currency. The country bankers petitioned government
+for relief, and government, listening to representations that were no
+doubt supported by facts, and backed by other interests, tampered with
+the principle of Mr. Peel's Bill, and allowed the country bankers to
+issue 1 pound and 2 pound notes for eleven years to come.
+
+To this step there were but six dissentients in the House of Commons,
+so little was its importance seen or its consequences foreseen. This
+piece of inconsistent legislation removed one restraint, irksome but
+salutary, from commercial enterprise at a moment when capital was
+showing some signs of a feverish agitation. Its immediate consequences
+were very encouraging to the legislator; the country bankers sowed the
+land broadcast with their small paper, and this, for the cause above
+adverted to, took _pro tem._ the place of gold, and was seldom
+cashed at all except where silver was wanted. On this enlargement of
+the currency the arms of the nation seemed freed, enterprise shot
+ahead unshackled, and unwonted energy and activity thrilled in the
+veins of the kingdom. The rise in the prices of all commodities which
+followed, inevitable consequence of every increase in the currency,
+whether real or fictitious, was in itself adverse to the working
+classes; but the vast and numerous enterprises that were undertaken,
+some in the country itself, some in foreign parts, to which English
+workmen were conveyed, raised the price of labor higher still in
+proportion; so no class was out of the sun.
+
+Men's faces shone with excitement and hope. The dormant hordes of
+misers crept out of their napkins and sepulchral strong-boxes into the
+warm air of the golden time. The mason's chisel chirped all over the
+kingdom, and the shipbuilders'* hammers rang all round the coast; corn
+was plenty, money became a drug, labor wealth, and poverty and
+discontent vanished from the face of the land. Adventure seemed all
+wings, and no lumbering carcass to clog it. New joint-stock companies
+were started in crowds as larks rise and darken the air in winter;**
+hundreds came to nothing, but hundreds stood, and of these nearly all
+reached a premium, small in some cases, high in most, fabulous in
+some; and the ease with which the first calls for cash on the
+multitudinous shares were met argued the vast resources that had
+hitherto slumbered in the nation for want of promising investments
+suited to the variety of human likings and judgments. The mind can
+hardly conceive any species of earthly enterprise that was not fitted
+with a company, oftener with a dozen, and with fifty or sixty where
+the proposed road to metal was direct. Of these the mines of Mexico
+still kept the front rank, but not to the exclusion of European,
+Australian and African ore.
+
+     * Two hundred new vessels are said to have been laid on the
+     stocks in one year.
+
+     ** In two years 624 new companies were projected.
+
+That masterpiece of fiction, "the Prospectus,"* diffused its gorgeous
+light far and near, lit up the dark mine, and showed the minerals
+shining and the jewels peeping; shone broad over the smiling fields,
+soon to be plowed, reaped, and mowed by machinery; and even illumined
+the depths of the sea, whence the buried treasures of ancient and
+modern times were about to be recovered by the Diving-bell Company.
+
+     * There is a little unlicked anonymuncule going scribbling
+     about, whose creed seems to be that a little camel, to be
+     known, must be examined and compared with other quadrupeds,
+     but that the great arts can be judged out of the depths of a
+     penny-a-liner's inner consciousness, and to be rated and
+     ranked need not be compared _inter se._ Applying the
+     microscope to the method of the novelist, but diverting the
+     glass from the learned judge's method in Biography, the
+     learned historian's method in History, and the daily
+     chronicler's method in dressing _res gestoe_ for a journal,
+     this little addle-pate has jumped to a comparative estimate,
+     not based on comparison, so that all his blindfold
+     vituperation of a noble art is chimera, not reasoning; it
+     is, in fact, a retrograde step in science and logic. This is
+     to evade the Baconian method, humble and wise, and crawl
+     back to the lazy and self-confident system of the ancients,
+     that kept the world dark so many centuries. It is [Greek]
+     versus Induction. "[Greek]," ladies, is "divination by means
+     of an ass's skull." A pettifogger's skull, however, will
+     serve the turn, provided that pettifogger has been bitten
+     with an insane itch for scribbling about things so
+     infinitely above his capacity as the fine arts. Avoid this
+     sordid dreamer, and follow, in letters as in science, the
+     Baconian method! Then you will find that all uninspired
+     narratives are more or less inexact, and that one, and one
+     only, Fiction proper, has the honesty to antidote its errors
+     by professing inexactitude. You will find that the
+     Historian, Biographer, Novelist, and Chronicler are all
+     obliged _to paint upon their data_ with colors the
+     imagination alone can supply, and all do it--alive or dead.
+     You will find that Fiction, as distinguished from neat
+     mendacity, has not one form upon earth, but a dozen. You
+     will find the most habitually, willfully, and inexcusably
+     inaccurate, with the means of accuracy under its nose, that
+     form of fiction called "anonymous criticism," political and
+     literary; the most equivocating, perhaps, is the
+     "imaginavit," better known at Lincoln's Inn as the
+     "affidavit." In the article of exaggeration, the mildest and
+     tamest are perhaps History and the Novel, the boldest and
+     most sparkling is the Advertisement, but the grandest,
+     ablest, most gorgeous and plausibly exaggerating is surely
+     the grave commercial prospectus, drawn up and signed by
+     potent, grave and reverend seniors, who fear God, worship
+     Mammon, revere big wigs right or wrong, and never read
+     romances.
+
+One mine was announced with a "vein of ore as pure and solid as a tin
+flagon."
+
+In another the prospectus offered mixed advantages. The ore lay in so
+romantic a situation, and so thick, that the eye could be regaled with
+a heavenly landscape, while the foot struck against neglected lumps of
+gold weighing from two pounds to fifty.
+
+This put the Bolanos mine on its mettle, and it announced, "not mines,
+but mountains of silver." Here, then, men might chip metal instead of
+painfully digging it. With this, up went the shares till they reached
+500 premium.
+
+
+     Tialpuxahua was done at 199 premium.
+     Anglo Mexican  10 pounds paid, went to 158 pounds premium.
+     United Mexican 10   "      " ,     "   155 pounds   "
+     Columbian      10   "      " ,     "    82 pounds   "
+
+
+But the Real del Monte, a mine of longer standing, on which 70 pounds
+was paid up, went to 550 premium, and at a later period, for I am not
+following the actual sequence of events, reached the enormous height
+of 1350 premium.
+
+The Prospectus of the Equitable Loan Company lamented in paragraph one
+the imposition practiced on the poor, and denounced the pawnbrokers'
+15 per cent. In paragraph four it promised 40 per cent to its
+shareholders.
+
+Philanthropy smiled in the heading, and Avarice stung in the tail. No
+wonder a royal duke and other good names figured in this concern.
+Another eloquent sheet appealed to the national dignity. Should a
+nation that was just now being intersected by forty canal companies,
+and lighted by thirty gas companies, and every life in it worth a
+button insured by a score of insurance companies, dwell in hovels?
+Here was a country that, after long ruling the sea, was now mining the
+earth, and employing her spoils nobly, lending money to every nation
+and tribe that would fight for constitutional liberty. Should the
+principal city of so sovereign a nation be a collection of dingy
+dwellings made with burned clay? No; let these perishable and ignoble,
+materials give way, and London be granite, or at least wear a granite
+front--with which up went the Red Granite Company.
+
+A railway was projected from Dover to Calais, but the shares never
+came into the market.
+
+The Rhine Navigation shares were snapped up directly. The original
+holders, having no faith in their own paper, sold large quantities
+directly for the account. But they had underrated the ardor of the
+public. At settling day the shares were at 28 premium, and the sellers
+found they had made a most original hedge; for "the hedge" is not a
+daring operation that grasps at large gains; it is a timid and
+cautious maneuver, whose humble aim is to lower the figures of
+possible loss or gain. To be ruined by a stroke of caution so shocked
+the directors' sense of justice that they forged new coupons in
+imitation of the old, and tried to pass them off. The fraud was
+discovered; a committee sat on it. Respectables quaked. Finally, a
+scapegoat was put forward and expelled the Stock Exchange, and with
+that the inquiry was hushed. It would have let too much daylight in on
+a host of "good names" in the City and on 'Change.
+
+At the same time, the country threw itself with ardor into
+Transatlantic loans. This, however, was an existing speculation vastly
+dilated at the period we are treating, but created about five years
+earlier. Its antecedent history can be dispatched in a few words.
+
+England is said to be governed by a limited monarchy; but in case of a
+struggle between the two, her heart goes more with unlimited republic
+than with genuine monarchy. The Spanish colonies in South America
+found this out, and in their long battle for independence came to us
+for sympathy and cash. They often obtained both, and in one case
+something more; we lent Chili a million at six per cent, but we lent
+her ships, bayonets, and Cochrane gratis. This last, a gallant and
+amphibious dragoon, went to work in a style the slow Spaniard was
+unprepared for; blockaded the coast, overawed the Royalist party, and
+wrenched the state from the mother country, and settled it a republic.
+One of the first public acts of this Chilian republic was to borrow a
+million of us to go on with. Peru took only half a million at this
+period. Colombia, during the protracted struggle her independence cost
+her, obtained a sort of _carte blanche_ loan from us at ten per
+cent. We were to deliver the stock in munitions of war, as called for,
+which, you will 'observe, was selling our loan; for at the bottom of
+all our romance lies business, business, business. Her freedom
+secured, the new state accommodated us by taking two millions of 5 per
+cent stock at 84. In all, about ten millions nominal capital, eight
+millions cash, crossed the Atlantic while we were cool; but now that
+we were heated by three hundred joint-stock companies, and the fire
+fanned by seven hundred prospectuses, fresh loans were effected with a
+wider range of territory and on a more important scale.
+
+     Brazil now got . . . 3,200,000 l. in two loans;
+     Colombia . . . . . . 4,750,000 l.;
+     Peru . . . . . . . . 1,366,000 l. in two loans;
+     Mexico . . . . . . . 6,400,000 l. in two loans;
+     Buenos Ayres . . . . 1,000,000 l.;
+
+and Guatemala, a state we never heard of till she wanted money, took a
+million and a half. Besides these there were smaller loans, lent, not
+to nations, but to tribes. So hot was our money in our pockets that we
+tried 200,000 pounds on Patagonia. But the savages could not be got to
+nail us, which was the more to be regretted, as we might have done a
+good stroke with them; could have sent the stock out in fisherman's
+boots, cocked hats, beads, Bibles, and army misfits.
+
+Europe found out there existed an island overflowing with faith and
+overburdened with money; she ran at us for a slice of the latter. We
+lent Naples two millions and a half at 5 per cent stock 92 1/2.
+Portugal a million and a half at 87. Austria three millions and a half
+at 82 1/2. Denmark three millions and a half at 3 per cent stock 75
+1/2. Then came a _bonne bouche._ The subtle Greek had gathered
+from his western visitors a notion of the contents of Thucydides, and
+he came to us for sympathy and money to help him shake off the
+barbarians and their yoke, and save the wreck of the ancient temples.
+The appeal was shrewdly planned. England reads Thucydides, and skims
+Demosthenes, though Greece, it is presumed, does not. The impressions
+of our boyhood fasten upon our hearts, and our mature reason judges
+them like a father, not like a judge. To sweep the Tartar out of the
+Peloponnese, and put in his place a free press that should recall from
+the tomb that soul of freedom, and revive by degrees that tongue of
+music--who can play Solomon when such a proposal comes up for
+judgment?
+
+"Give yourself no further concern about the matter," said the lofty
+Burdett, with a gentlemanlike wave of the hand; "your country shall be
+saved."
+
+"In a few weeks," said another statesman, "Cochrane will be at
+Constantinople, and burn the port and its vessels. Having thus
+disarmed invasion, he will land in the Morea and clear it of
+the Turks."
+
+Greece borrowed in two loans 2,800,000 pounds at 5 per cent. Russia
+(droll juxtaposition!) drew up the rear. She borrowed three millions
+and a half, but upon far more favorable terms than, with all our
+romance, we accorded to "Graeculus esuriens." The Greek stock ruled *
+from 56 1/2 to 59.
+
+     * A corruption from the French verb "rouler."
+
+Into these loans, and the multitudinous mines and miscellaneous
+enterprises, gas, railroad, canal, steam, dock, provision, insurance,
+milk, water, building, washing, money-lending, fishing, lottery,
+annuities, herring-curing, poppy-oil, cattle, weaving, bog draining,
+street-cleaning, house-roofing, old clothes exporting, steel-making,
+starch, silk-worm, etc., etc., etc., companies, all classes of the
+community threw themselves, either for investment or temporary
+speculation, on the fluctuations of the share-market. One venture was
+ennobled by a prince of the blood figuring as a director; another was
+sanctified by an archbishop; hundreds were solidified by the best
+mercantile names in the cities of London, Liverpool, and Manchester.
+Princes, dukes, duchesses, stags, footmen, poets, philosophers,
+divines, lawyers, physicians, maids, wives, widows, tore into the
+market, and choked the Exchange up so tight that the brokers could not
+get in nor out, and a bare passage had to be cleared by force and
+fines through a mass of velvet, fustian, plush, silk, rags, lace, and
+broadcloth, that jostled and squeezed each other in the struggle for
+gain. The shop-keeper flung down his scales and off to the
+share-market; the merchant embarked his funds and his credit; the
+clerk risked his place and his humble respectability. High and low,
+rich and poor, all hurried round the Exchange, like midges round a
+flaring gas-light, and all were to be rich in a day.
+
+And, strange to say, all seemed to win and none to lose; for nothing
+was at a discount except toil and self-denial, and the patient
+industry that makes men rich, but not in a day.
+
+One cold misgiving fell. The vast quantities of gold and silver that
+Mexico, mined by English capital and machinery, was about to pour into
+our ports, would so lower the price of those metals that a heavy loss
+must fall on all who held them on a considerable scale at their
+present values in relation to corn, land, labor and other properties
+and commodities.
+
+"We must convert our gold," was the cry. Others more rash said: "This
+is premature caution--timidity. There is no gold come over yet; wait
+till you learn the actual bulk of the first metallic imports." "No,
+thank you," replied the prudent ones, "it will be too late then; when
+once they have touched our shores, the fall will be rapid." So they
+turned their gold, whose value was so precarious, into that
+unfluctuating material, paper. This solitary fear was soon swallowed
+up in the general confidence. The king congratulated Parliament, and
+Parliament the king. Both houses rang with trumpet notes of triumph, a
+few of which still linger in the memories of living men.
+
+1. "The cotton trade and iron trade were never so flourishing."
+
+2. "The exports surpassed by millions the highest figure recorded in'
+history."
+
+3. "The hum of industry was heard throughout the fields."
+
+4. "Joy beamed in every face."
+
+5. "The country now reaped in honor and repose all it had sown in
+courage, constancy and wisdom."
+
+6. "Our prosperity extended to all ranks of men, enhanced by those
+arts which minister to human comfort, and those inventions by which
+man seems to have obtained a mastery over Nature through the
+application of her own powers."
+
+But one honorable gentleman informed the Commons that "distress had
+vanished from the land,"* and in addressing the throne acknowledged a
+novel embarrassment: "Such," said he, "is the general prosperity of
+the country, that I feel at a loss how to proceed; whether to give
+precedence to our agriculture, which is the main support of the
+country, to our manufactures, which have increased to an unexampled
+extent, or to our commerce, which distributes them to the ends of the
+earth, finds daily new outlets for their distribution, and new sources
+of national wealth and prosperity."
+
+     * "The poor ye shall have always with you."--Chimerical
+     Evangelist.
+
+Our old bank did not profit by the golden shower. Mr. Hardie was old,
+too, and the cautious and steady habits of forty years were not to be
+shaken readily. He declined shares, refused innumerable discounts, and
+loans upon scrip and invoices, and, in short, was behind the time. His
+bank came to be denounced as a clog on commerce. Two new banks were
+set up in the town to oil the wheels of adventure, on which he was a
+drag, and Hardie fell out of the game.
+
+He was not so old or cold as to be beyond the reach of mortification,
+and these things stung him. One day he said fretfully to old Skinner,
+"It is hardly worth our while to take down the shutters now, for
+anything we do."
+
+One afternoon two of his best customers, who were now up to their
+chins in shares, came and solicited a heavy loan on their joint
+personal security. Hardie declined. The gentlemen went out. Young
+Skinner watched them, and told his father they went into the new bank,
+stayed there a considerable time, and came out looking joyous. Old
+Skinner told Mr. Hardie. The old gentleman began at last to doubt
+himself and his system.
+
+"The bank would last my time," said he, "but I must think of my son. I
+have seen many a good business die out because the merchant could not
+keep up with the times; and here they are inviting me to be director
+in two of their companies--good mercantile names below me. It is very
+flattering. I'll write to Dick. It is just he should have a voice;
+but, dear heart! at his age we know beforehand he will be for
+galloping faster than the rest. Well, his old father is alive to curb
+him."
+
+It was always the ambition of Mr. Richard Hardie to be an accomplished
+financier. For some years past he had studied money at home and
+abroad--scientifically. His father's connection had gained him a
+footing in several large establishments abroad, and there he sat and
+worked _en amateur_ as hard as a clerk. This zeal and diligence
+in a young man of independent means soon established him in the
+confidence of the chiefs, who told him many a secret. He was now in a
+great London bank, pursuing similar studies, practical and
+theoretical.
+
+He received his father's letters sketching the rapid decline of the
+bank, and finally a short missive inviting him down to consider an
+enlarged plan of business. During the four days that preceded the
+young man's visit, more than one application came to Hardie senior for
+advances on scrip, cargoes coming from Mexico, and joint personal
+securities of good merchants that were in the current ventures. Old
+Hardie now, instead of refusing, detained the proposals for
+consideration. Meantime, he ordered five journals daily instead of
+one, sought information from every quarter, and looked into passing
+events with a favorable eye. The result was that he blamed himself,
+and called his past caution timidity. Mr. Richard Hardie arrived and
+was ushered into the bank parlor. After the first affectionate
+greetings old Skinner was called in, and, in a little pompous,
+good-hearted speech, invited to make one in a solemn conference. The
+compliment brought the tears into the old man's eyes. Mr. Hardie
+senior opened, showed by the books the rapid decline of business,
+pointed to the rise of two new banks owing to the tight hand he had
+held unseasonably, then invited the other two to say whether an
+enlarged system was not necessary to meet the times, and submitted the
+last, proposals for loans and discounts. "Now, sir, let me have your
+judgment."
+
+"After my betters, sir," was old Skinner's reply.
+
+"Well, Dick, have you formed any opinion on this matter?"
+
+"I have, sir."
+
+"I am extremely glad of it," said the old gentleman, very sincerely,
+but with a shade of surprise; "out with it, Dick."
+
+The young man thus addressed by his father would not have conveyed to
+us the idea of "Dick." His hair was brown; there were no wrinkles
+under his eyes or lines in his cheek, but in his manner there was no
+youth whatever. He was tall, commanding, grave, quiet, cold, and even
+at that age almost majestic. His first sentence, slow and firm,
+removed the paternal notion that a cipher or a juvenile had come to
+the council-table.
+
+"First, sir, let me return to you my filial thanks for that caution
+which you seem to think has been excessive. There I beg respectfully
+to differ with you."
+
+"I am glad of it, Dick; but now you see it is time to relax, eh?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+The two old men stared at one another. The senile youth proceeded:
+"That some day or other our system will have to be relaxed is
+probable, but just now all it wants is--tightening."
+
+"Why, Dick? Skinner, the boy is mad. You can't have watched the signs
+of the times."
+
+"I have, sir; and looked below the varnish."
+
+"To the point, then, Dick. There is a general proposal 'to relax our
+system.' The boy uses good words, Skinner, don't he? and here are six
+particulars over which you can cast your eye. Hand them to him,
+Skinner."
+
+"I will take things in that order," said Richard, quietly running his
+eye over the papers. There was a moment's silence. "It is proposed to
+connect the bank with the speculations of the day."
+
+"That is not fairly stated, Dick; it is too broad. We shall make a
+selection; we won't go in the stream above ankle deep."
+
+"That is a resolution, sir, that has been often made but never
+kept--for this reason: you can't sit on dry land and calculate the
+force of the stream. It carries those who paddle in it off their feet,
+and then they must swim with it or--sink."
+
+"Dick, for Heaven's sake, no poetry here."
+
+"Nay, sir," said old Skinner, "remember, 'twas you brought the stream
+in."
+
+"More fool I. 'Flow on, thou shining Dick'; only the more figures of
+arithmetic, and the fewer figures of speech, you can give old Skinner
+and me, the more weight you will carry with us."
+
+The young man colored a moment, but never lost his ponderous calmness.
+
+"I will give you figures in their turn, But we were to begin with the
+general view. Half-measures, then, are no measures; they imply a
+vacillating judgment; they are a vain attempt to make a pound of
+rashness and a pound of timidity into two pounds of prudence. You
+permit me that figure, sir; it comes from the summing-book. The able
+man of business fidgets. He keeps quiet, or carries something out."
+
+Old Skinner rubbed his hands. "These are wise words, sir."
+
+"No, only clever ones. This is book-learning. It is the sort of wisdom
+you and I have outgrown these forty years. Why, at his age I was
+choke-full of maxims. They are good things to read; but act proverbs,
+and into the Gazette you go. My faith in any general position has
+melted away with the snow of my seventy winters."
+
+"What, then, if it was established that all adders bite, would you
+refuse to believe his adder would bite you, sir?"
+
+"Dick, if a single adder bit me, it would go farther to convince me
+that the next adder would bite me too than if fifty young Buffons told
+me all adders bite."
+
+The senile youth was disconcerted for a single moment. He hesitated.
+The keys that the old man had himself said would unlock his judgment
+lay beside him on the table. He could not help glancing slyly at them,
+but he would not use them before their turn. His mind was methodical.
+His will was strong in all things. He put his hand in his side-pocket,
+and drew out a quantity of papers neatly arranged, tied, and indorsed.
+
+The old men instantly bestowed a more watchful sort of attention on
+him.
+
+"This, gentlemen, is a list of the joint-stock companies created last
+year. What do you suppose is their number?"
+
+"Fifty, I'll be bound, Mr. Richard."
+
+"More than that, Skinner. Say eighty."
+
+ "Two hundred and forty-three, gentlemen. Of these some were
+stillborn, but the majority hold the market. The capital proposed to
+be subscribed on the sum total is two hundred and forty-eight
+millions."
+
+"Pheugh! Skinner!"
+
+"The amount actually paid at present (chiefly in bank-notes) is stated
+at 43,062,608 pounds, and the balance due at the end of the year on
+this set of ventures will be 204,937,392 pounds or thereabouts. The
+projects of _this year_ have not been collected, but they are on
+a similar scale. Full a third of the general sum total is destined to
+foreign countries, either in loans or to work mines, etc., the return
+for which is uncertain and future. All these must come to nothing, and
+ruin the shareholders that way, or else must sooner or later be paid
+in specie, since no foreign nation can use our paper, but must sell it
+to the Bank of England. We stand, then, pledged to burst like a
+bladder, or to _export_ in a few months thrice as much specie as
+we possess. To sum up, if the country could be sold to-morrow, with
+every brick that stands upon it, the proceeds would not meet the
+engagements into which these joint-stock companies have inveigled her
+in the course of twenty months. Viewed then, in gross, under the test,
+not of poetry and prospectus, but of arithmetic, the whole thing is a
+bubble."
+
+"A bubble?" uttered both the seniors in one breath, and almost in a
+scream.
+
+"But I am ready to test it in detail. Let us take three main
+features--the share-market, the foreign loans, and the inflated
+circulation caused by the provincial banks. Why do the public run
+after shares? Is it in the exercise of a healthy judgment? No; a
+cunning bait has been laid for human weakness. Transferable shares
+valued at 100 pounds can be secured and paid for by small instalments
+of 5 pounds or less. If, then, his 100 pound shares rise to 130 pounds
+each, the adventurer can sell at a nominal profit of 30 per cent, but
+a real profit of 600 per cent on his actual investment. This
+intoxicates rich and poor alike. It enables the small capitalist to
+operate on the scale that belongs, in healthy times, to the large
+capitalist; a beggar can now gamble like a prince; his farthings are
+accepted as counters for sovereigns; but this is a distinct feature of
+all the more gigantic bubbles recorded. Here, too, you see, is
+illusory credit on a vast scale, with its sure consequence, inflated
+and fictitious values; another bit of soap that goes to every bubble
+in history. Now for the Transatlantic loans. I submit them to a simple
+test. Judge nations like individuals. If you knew nothing of a man but
+that he had set up a new shop, would you lend him money? Then why lend
+money to new republics of whom you know nothing but that, born
+yesterday, they may die to-morrow, and that they are exhausted by
+recent wars, and that, where responsibility is divided, conscience is
+always subdivided?"
+
+"Well said, Richard, well said."
+
+"If a stranger offered you thirty per cent, would you lend him your
+money?"
+
+"No; for I should know he didn't mean to pay."
+
+"Well, these foreign negotiators offer nominally five per cent, but,
+looking at the price of the stock, thirty, forty, and even fifty per
+cent. Yet they are not so liberal as they appear; they could afford
+ninety per cent. You understand me, gentlemen. Would you lend to a man
+that came to you under an alias like a Newgate thief? Cast your eye
+over this prospectus. It is the Poyais loan. There is no such place as
+Poyais."
+
+"Good heavens!"
+
+"It is a loan to an anonymous swamp by the Mosquito River. But
+Mosquito suggests a bite. So the vagabonds that brought the proposal
+over put their heads together as they crossed the Atlantic, and
+christened the place Poyais; and now fools that are not fools enough
+to lend sixpence to Zahara, are going to lend 200,000 pounds to rushes
+and reeds."
+
+"Why, Richard, what are you talking about? 'The air is soft and balmy;
+the climate fructifying; the soil is spontaneous'--what does that
+mean? mum! mum! 'The water runs over sands of gold.' Why, it is a
+description of Paradise. And, now I think of it, is not all this taken
+from John Milton?"
+
+"Very likely. It is written by thieves."
+
+"It seems there are tortoise-shell, diamonds, pearls--"
+
+"In the prospectus, but not in the morass. It is a good,
+straightforward morass, with no pretensions but to great damp. But
+don't be alarmed, gentlemen, our countrymen's money will not be
+swamped there. It will all be sponged up in Threadneedle Street by the
+poetic swindlers whose names, or aliases, you hold in your hand. The
+Greek, Mexican, and Brazilian loans may be translated from Prospectish
+into English thus: At a date when every sovereign will be worth five
+to us in sustaining shriveling paper and collapsing credit, we are
+going to chuck a million sovereigns into the Hellespont, five million
+sovereigns into the Gulf of Mexico, and two millions into the Pacific
+Ocean. Against the loans to the old monarchies there is only this
+objection, that they are unreasonable; will drain out gold when gold
+will be life-blood; which brings me, by connection, to my third
+item--the provincial circulation. Pray, gentlemen, do you remember the
+year 1793?"
+
+For some minutes past a dead silence and a deep, absorbed attention
+had received the young man's words; but that quiet question was like a
+great stone descending suddenly on a silent stream. Such a noise,
+agitation, and flutter. The old banker and his clerk both began to
+speak at once.
+
+"Don't we?"
+
+"Oh, Lord, Mr. Richard, don't talk of 1793."
+
+"What do you know about 1793? You weren't born."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Richard, such a to-do, sir! 1800 firms in the Gazette.
+Seventy banks stopped."
+
+"Nearer a hundred, Mr. Skinner. Seventy-one stopped in the provinces,
+and a score in London."
+
+"Why, sir, Mr. Richard knows everything, whether he was born or not."
+
+"No, he doesn't, you old goose; he doesn't know how you and I sat
+looking at one another, and pretending to fumble, and counting out
+slowly, waiting sick at heart for the sack of guineas that was to come
+down by coach. If it had not come we should not have broken, but we
+should have suspended payment for twenty-four hours, and I was young
+enough then to have cut my throat in the interval."
+
+"But it came, sir--it came, and you cried, 'Keep the bank open till
+midnight!' and when the blackguards heard that, and saw the sackful of
+gold, they crept away; they were afraid of offending us. Nobody came
+anigh us next day. Banks smashed all round us like glass bottles, but
+Hardie & Co. stood, and shall stand for ever and ever. Amen."
+
+"Who showed the white feather, Mr. Skinner? Who came creeping and
+sniveling, and took my hand under the counter, and pressed it to give
+me courage, and then was absurd enough to make apologies, as if
+sympathy was as common as dirt? Give me your hand directly, you
+old--Hallo!"
+
+"God bless you, sir! God bless you! It is all right, sir. The bank is
+safe for another fifty years. We have got Master Richard, and he has
+got a head. O Gemini, what a head he has got, and the other day
+playing marbles!"
+
+"Yes, and we are interrupting him with our nonsense. Go on, Richard."
+
+Richard had secretly but fully appreciated the folly of the
+interruption. His was a great mind, and moved in a sort of pecuniary
+ether high above the little weaknesses my reader has observed in
+Hardie senior and old Skinner. Being, however, equally above the other
+little infirmities of fretfulness and fussiness, he waited calmly and
+proceeded coolly.
+
+"What was the cause of the distress in 1793?"
+
+"Ah! that was the puzzle--wasn't it, Skinner? We were never so
+prosperous as that year. The distress came over us like a
+thunder-storm all in a moment. Nobody knows the exact cause."
+
+"I beg your pardon, sir, it is as well known as any point of history
+whatever. Some years of prosperity had created a spawn of country
+banks, most of them resting on no basis; these had inflated the
+circulation with their paper. A panic and a collapse of this
+fictitious currency was as inevitable as the fall of a stone forced
+against nature into the air."
+
+"There _were_ a great many petty banks, Richard, and, of course,
+plenty of bad paper. I believe you are right. The causes of things
+were not studied in those days as they are now."
+
+"All that we know now, sir, is to be found in books written long
+before 1793."
+
+"Books! books!"
+
+"Yes, sir; a book is not dead paper except to sleepy minds. A book is
+a man giving you his best thoughts in his very best words. It is only
+the shallow reader that can't learn life from genuine books. I'll back
+him who studies them against the man who skims his fellow-creatures,
+and vice versa. A single page of Adam Smith, studied, understood, and
+acted on by the statesmen of your day, would have averted the panic of
+1793. I have the paragraph in my note-book. He was a great man, sir;
+oblige me, Mr. Skinner."
+
+"Certainly, sir, certainly. 'Should the circulation of paper exceed
+the value of the gold and silver of which it supplies the place, many
+people would immediately perceive they had more of this paper than was
+necessary for transacting their business at home; and, as they could
+not send it abroad, bank paper only passing current where it is
+issued, there would be a run upon the banks to the extent of this
+superfluous paper.'"
+
+Richard Hardie resumed. "We were never so overrun with rotten banks as
+now. Shoemakers, cheesemongers, grocers, write up 'Bank' over one of
+their windows, and deal their rotten paper by the foolscap ream. The
+issue of their larger notes is colossal, and renders a panic
+inevitable soon or late; but, to make it doubly sure, they have been
+allowed to utter 1 pound and 2 pound notes. They have done it, and on
+a frightful scale. Then, to make it trebly sure, the just balance
+between paper and specie is disturbed in the other scale as well as by
+foreign loans to be paid in gold. In 1793 the candle was left
+unsnufled, but we have lighted it at both ends and put it down to
+roast. Before the year ends, every sovereign in the banks of this
+country may be called on to cash 30 pounds of paper--bank-paper,
+share-paper, foolscap-paper, waste-paper. In 1793, a small excess of
+paper over specie had the power to cause a panic and break some ninety
+banks; but our excess of paper is far larger, and with that fatal
+error we have combined foreign loans and three hundred bubble
+companies. Here, then, meet three bubbles, each of which, unaided,
+secures a panic. Events revolve, gentlemen, and reappear at intervals.
+The great French bubble of 1719 is here to-day with the addition of
+two English tom-fooleries, foreign loans and 1 pound notes. Mr. Law
+was a great financier. Mr. Law was the first banker and the greatest.
+All mortal bankers are his pupils, though they don't know it. Mr. Law
+was not a fool; his critics are. Mr. Law did not commit one error out
+of six that are attributed to him by those who judge him without
+reading, far less studying, his written works. He was too sound and
+sober a banker to admit small notes. They were excluded from his
+system. He found France on the eve of bankruptcy; in fact, the state
+had committed acts of virtual bankruptcy. He saved her with his bank.
+
+"Then came his two errors, one remedial, the other fatal. No. 1, he
+created a paper company and blew it up to a bubble. When the shares
+had reached the skies, they began to come down, like stones, by an
+inevitable law. No. 2, to save them from their coming fate, he propped
+them with his bank. Overrating the power of governments, and
+underrating Nature's, he married the Mississippi shares (at forty
+times their value) to his banknotes by edict. What was the
+consequence? The bank paper, sound in itself, became rotten by
+marriage. Nothing could save the share-paper. The bank paper, making
+common cause with it, shared its fate. Had John Law let his two tubs
+each stand on its own bottom, the shares would have gone back to what
+they came from--nothing; the bank, based as it was on specie, backed
+stoutly by the government, and respected by the people for great
+national services, would have weathered the storm and lasted to this
+day. But he tied his rickety child to his healthy child, and flung
+them into a stormy sea, and told them to swim together: they sank
+together. Now observe, sir, the fatal error that ruined the great
+financier in 1720 is this day proposed to us. We are to connect our
+bank with bubble companies by the double tie of loans and liability.
+John Law was sore tempted. The Mississippi Company was his own child
+as well as the bank. Love of that popularity he had drunk so deeply,
+egotism, and parental partiality, combined to obscure that great man's
+judgment. But, with us, folly stands naked on one side, bubbles in
+hand--common sense and printed experience on the other. These six
+specimen bubbles here are not _our_ children. Let me see whose
+they are, aliases excepted."
+
+"Very good, young gentleman, very good. Now it is my turn. I have got
+a word or two to say on the other side. The journals, which are so
+seldom agreed, are all of one mind about these glorious times. Account
+for that!"
+
+"How can you know their minds, sir?"
+
+"By their leading columns."
+
+"Those are no clue."
+
+"What! Do they think one thing and print another? Why should the
+independent press do that? Nonsense."
+
+"Why, sir? Because they are bribed to print it, but they are not
+bribed to think it."
+
+"Bribed? The English press bribed?"
+
+"Oh, not directly, like the English freeman. Oblige me with a journal
+or two, no matter which; they are all tarred with the same stick in
+time of bubble. Here, sir, are 50 pounds worth of bubble
+advertisements, yielding a profit of say 25 pounds on this single
+issue. In this one are nearer 100 pounds worth of such advertisements.
+Now is it in nature that a newspaper, which is a trade speculation,
+should say the word that would blight its own harvest? This is the
+oblique road by which the English press is bribed. These leaders are
+mere echoes of to-day's advertisement sheet, and bidders for
+to-morrow's."
+
+"The world gets worse every day, Skinner."
+
+"It gets no better," replied Richard, philosophically.
+
+"But, Richard, here is our county member, and ----, staid, sober men
+both, and both have pledged their honor on the floor of the House of
+Commons to the sound character of some of these companies."
+
+"They have, sir; but they will never redeem the said honor, for they
+are known to be bribed, and not obliquely, by those very companies."
+(The price current of M. P. honor, in time of bubble, ought to be
+added to the works of arithmetic.) "Those two Brutuses get 500
+pounds apiece per annum for touting those companies down at
+Stephen's. ---- goes cheaper and more oblique. He touts, in the same
+place, for a gas company, and his house in the square flares from cellar
+to garret, gratis."
+
+"Good gracious! and he talked of the light of conscience in his very
+last speech. But this cannot apply to all. There is the archbishop; he
+can't have sold his name to that company."
+
+"Who knows? He is over head and ears in debt."
+
+"But the duke, _he_ can't have."
+
+"Why not? He is over head and ears in debt. Princes deep in debt by
+misconduct, and bishops deep in ditto by ditto, are half-honest, needy
+men; and half-honest, needy men are all to be bought and sold like
+hogs in Smithfield, especially in time of bubble."
+
+"What is the world come to!"
+
+"What it was a hundred years ago."
+
+"I have got one pill left for him, Skinner. Here is the Chancellor of
+the Exchequer, a man whose name stands for caution, has pronounced a
+panegyric on our situation. Here are his words quoted in this leader;
+now listen: 'We may safely venture to contemplate with instructive
+admiration the harmony of its proportions and the solidity of its
+basis.' What do you say to that?"
+
+"I say it is one man's opinion versus the experience of a century.
+Besides, that is a quotation, and may be a fraudulent one."
+
+"No, no. The speech was only delivered last Wednesday: we will refer
+to it. Mum! mum! Ah, here it is. 'The Chancellor of the Exchequer rose
+and--' mum! mum! ah--'I am of--o-pinion that--if, upon a fair review
+of our situation, there shall appear to be nothing hollow in its
+foundation, artificial in its superstructure, or flimsy in its general
+results, we may safely venture to contemplate with instructive
+admiration the harmony of its proportions and the solidity of its
+basis.'"
+
+"Ha! ha! ha! I quite agree with cautious Bobby. If it is not hollow,
+it may be solid; if it is not a gigantic paper balloon, it may be a
+very fine globe, and vice versa, which vice versa he in
+his heart suspects to be the truth. You see, sir, the mangled
+quotation was a swindle, like the flimsy superstructures it was
+intended to prop. The genuine paragraph is a fair sample of Robinson,
+and of the art of withholding opinion by means of expression. But as
+quoted, by a fraudulent suppression of one half, the unbalanced half
+is palmed off as a whole, and an indecision perverted into a decision.
+I might just as fairly cite him as describing our situation to be
+'hollow in its basis, artificial in its superstructure, flimsy in its
+general result.' Since you value names, I will cite you one man that
+has commented on the situation; not, like Mr. Robinson, by misty
+sentences, each neutralizing the other, but by consistent acts: a man,
+gentlemen, whose operations have always been numerous and courageous in
+less _prosperous_ times, yet now he is _out of everything_ but a single
+insurance company."
+
+"Who is the gentleman?"
+
+"It is not a gentleman; it is a blackguard," said the exact youth.
+
+"You excite my curiosity. Who is the capitalist, then, that stands
+aloof?"
+
+"Nathan Meyer Rothschild."
+
+"The devil."
+
+Old Skinner started sitting. "Rothschild hanging back. Oh, master, for
+Heavens sake don't let us try to be wiser than those devils of Jews.
+Mr. Richard, I bore up pretty well against your book-learning, but now
+you've hit me with a thunderbolt. Let us get in gold, and keep as snug
+as mice, and not lend one of them a farthing to save them from the
+gallows. Those Jews smell farther than a Christian can see. Don't
+let's have any more 1793's, sir, for Heaven's sake. Listen to Mr.
+Richard; he has been abroad, and come back with a head."
+
+"Be quiet, Skinner. You seem to possess private information, Richard."
+
+"I employ three myrmidons to hunt it; it will be useful by and by."
+
+"It may be now. Remark on these proposals."
+
+"Well, sir, two of them are based on gold mines, shares at a fabulous
+premium. Now no gold mine can be worked to a profit by a company.
+_Primo:_ Gold is not found in veins like other metals. It is an
+abundant metal made scarce to man by distribution over a wide surface.
+The very phrase gold mine is delusive. _Secundo:_ Gold is a metal
+that cannot be worked to a profit by a company for this reason:
+workmen will hunt it for others so long as the daily wages average
+higher than the amount of metal they find per diem; but, that Rubicon
+once passed, away they run to find gold for themselves in some spot
+with similar signs; if they stay, it is to murder your overseers and
+seize your mine. Gold digging is essentially an individual
+speculation. These shares sell at 700 pounds apiece; a dozen of them
+are not worth one Dutch tulip-root. Ah! here is a company of another
+class, in which you have been invited to be director; they would have
+given you shares and made you liable." Mr. Richard consulted his
+note-book. "This company, which 'commands the wealth of both
+Indies'--in perspective--dissolved yesterday afternoon for want of
+eight guineas. They had rented offices at eight guineas a week, and
+could not pay the first week. 'Turn out or pay,' said the landlord, a
+brute absorbed in the present, and with no faith in the glorious
+future. They offered him 1,500 pounds worth of shares instead of his
+paltry eight guineas cash. On this he swept his premises of them. What
+a godsend you would have been to these Jeremy Diddlers, you and the
+ten thousand they would have bled you of."
+
+The old banker turned pale.
+
+"Oh, that is nothing new, sir. _'To-morrow_ the first lord of the
+treasury calls at my house, and brings me 11,261 pounds 14s. 11 3/4d.,
+which is due to me from the nation at twelve of the clock on that day;
+you couldn't lend me a shilling till then, could ye?' Now for the
+loans. Baynes upon Haggart want 2,000 pounds at 5 per cent."
+
+"Good names, Richard, surely," said old Hardie, faintly.
+
+"They were; but there are no good names in time of bubble. The
+operations are so enormous that in a few weeks a man is hollowed out
+and his frame left standing. In such times capitalists are like
+filberts; they look all nut, but half of them are dust inside the
+shell, and only known by breaking. Baynes upon Haggart, and Haggart
+upon Baynes, the city is full of their paper. I have brought some down
+to show it to you. A discounter, who is a friend of mine, did it for
+them on a considerable scale at thirty per cent discount (cast your
+eye over these bills, Haggart on Baynes). But he has burned his
+fingers even at that, and knows it. So I am authorized to offer all
+these to you at fifty per cent discount."
+
+"Good heavens! Richard!"
+
+"If, therefore, you think of doing rotten apple upon rotten pear,
+otherwise Haggart upon Baynes, why do it at five per cent when it is
+to be had by the quire at fifty?"
+
+"Take them out of my sight," said old Hardie, starting up--"take them
+all out of my sight. Thank God I sent for you. No more discussion, no
+more doubt. Give me your hand, my son; you have saved the bank!"
+
+The conference broke up with these eager words, and young Skinner
+retired swiftly from the keyhole.
+
+The next day Mr. Hardie senior came to a resolution which saddened
+poor old Skinner. He called the clerks in and introduced them to Mr.
+Richard as his managing partner.
+
+"Every dog has his day," said the old gentleman. "Mine has been a long
+one. Richard has saved the bank from a fatal error; Richard shall
+conduct it as Hardie & Son. Don't be disconsolate, Skinner; I'll look
+in on you now and then."
+
+Hardie junior sent back all the proposals with a polite negative. He
+then proceeded on a two-headed plan. Not to lose a shilling when the
+panic he expected should come, and to make 20,000 pounds upon its
+subsiding. Hardie & Son held Exchequer bills on rather a large scale.
+They were at half a crown premium. He sold every one and put gold in
+his coffers. He converted in the same way all his other securities
+except consols. These were low, and he calculated they would rise in
+any general depreciation of more pretentious investments. He drew out
+his balance, a large one, from his London correspondent, and put his
+gold in his coffers. He drew a large deposit from the Bank of England.
+Whenever his own notes came into the bank, he withdrew them from
+circulation. "They may hop upon Hardie & Son," said he, "but they
+shan't run upon us, for I'll cut off their legs and keep them in my
+safe."
+
+One day he invited several large tradesmen in the town to dine with
+him at the bank. They came full of curiosity. He gave them a luxurious
+dinner, which pleased them. After dinner he exposed the real state of
+the nation, as he understood it. They listened politely, and sneered
+silently, but visibly. He then produced six large packets of his
+banknotes; each packet contained 3,000 pounds. Skinner, then present,
+enveloped these packets in cartridge-paper, and the guests were
+requested to seal them up. This was soon done. In those days a bunch
+of gigantic seals dangled and danced on the pit of every man's
+stomach. The sealed packets went back into the safe.
+
+"Show us a sparkle o' gold, Mr. Richard," said Meredith, linen-draper
+and wag.
+
+"Mr. Skinner, oblige me by showing Mr. Meredith a little of your
+specie--a few anti-bubble pills, eh! Mr. Meredith."
+
+Omnes. "Ha! ha! ha!"
+
+Presently a shout from Meredith: "Boys, he has got it here by the
+bushel. All new sovereigns. Don't any of ye be a linen-draper, if you
+have got a chance to be a banker. How much is there here, Mr.
+Richard?"
+
+"We must consult the books to ascertain that, sir."
+
+"Must you? Then just turn your head away, Mr. Richard, and I'll put in
+a claw."
+
+Omnes. "Haw! haw! ho!"
+
+Richard Hardie resumed. "My precautions seem extravagant to you now,
+but in a few months you will remember this conversation, and it will
+lead to business." The rest of the evening he talked of anything,
+everything, except banking. He was not the man to dilute an
+impression.
+
+Hardie junior was so confident in his reading and his reasonings that
+he looked every day into the journals for the signs of a general
+collapse of paper and credit; instead of which, public confidence
+seemed to increase, not diminish, and the paper balloon, as he called
+it, dilated, not shrank; and this went on for months. His gold lay a
+dead and useless stock, while paper was breeding paper on every side
+of him. He suffered his share of those mortifications which every man
+must look to endure who takes a course of his own, and stems a human
+current. He sat somber and perplexed in his bank parlor, doing
+nothing; his clerks mended pens in the office. The national calamity
+so confidently predicted, and now so eagerly sighed for, came not.
+
+In other words, Richard Hardie was a sagacious calculator, but not a
+prophet; no man is till afterward, and then nine out of ten are. At
+last he despaired of the national calamity ever coming at all. So
+then, one dark November day, an event happened that proved him a
+shrewd calculator of probabilities in the gross, and showed that the
+records, of the past, "studied" instead of "skimmed," may in some
+degree counterbalance youth and its narrow experience. Owing to the
+foreign loans, there were a great many bills out against this country.
+Some heavy ones were presented, and seven millions in gold taken out
+of the Bank of England and sent abroad. This would have trickled back
+by degrees; but the suddenness and magnitude of the drain alarmed the
+bank directors for the safety of the bank, subject as it was by Mr.
+Peel's bill to a vast demand for gold.
+
+Up to this period, though they had amassed specie themselves, they had
+rather fed the paper fever in the country at large, but now they began
+to take a wide and serious view of the grave contingencies around
+them. They contracted their money operations, refused in two cases to
+discount corn, and, in a word, put the screw on as judiciously as they
+could. But time was up. Public confidence had reached its culminating
+point. The sudden caution of the bank could not be hidden; it awoke
+prudence, and prudence after imprudence drew terror at its heels.
+There was a tremendous run upon the country banks. The smaller ones
+"smashed all around like glass bottles," as in 1793; the larger ones
+made gigantic and prolonged efforts to stand, and generally fell at
+last.
+
+Many, whose books showed assets 40s. in the pound, suspended
+payment; for in a violent panic the bank creditors can all draw their
+balances in a few hours or days, but the poor bank cannot put a
+similar screw on its debtors. Thus no establishment was safe. Honor
+and solvency bent before the storm, and were ranked with rottenness;
+and, as at the same time the market price of securities sank with
+frightful rapidity, scarcely any amount of invested capital was safe
+in the unequal conflict.
+
+Exchequer bills went down to 60s. discount, and the funds rose
+and fell like waves in a storm.
+
+London bankers were called out of church to answer dispatches from
+their country correspondents.
+
+The Mint worked day and night, and coined a hundred and fifty thousand
+sovereigns per diem for the Bank of England; but this large supply
+went but a little way, since that firm had in reality to cash nearly
+all the country notes that were cashed.
+
+Post-chaises and four stood like hackney-coaches in Lombard Street,
+and every now and then went rattling off at a gallop into the country
+with their golden freight. In London, at the end of a single week, not
+an old sovereign was to be seen, so fiercely was the old coinage swept
+into the provinces, so active were the Mint and the smashers; these
+last drove a roaring trade; for paper now was all suspected, and
+anything that looked like gold was taken recklessly in exchange.
+
+Soon the storm burst on the London banks. A firm known to possess half
+a million in undeniable securities could not cash them fast enough to
+meet the checks drawn on their counter, and fell. Next day, a house
+whose very name was a rock suspended for four days. An hour or two
+later two more went hopelessly to destruction. The panic rose to
+madness. Confidence had no longer a clue, nor names a distinction. A
+man's enemies collected three or four vagabonds round his door, and in
+another hour there was a run upon him, that never ceased till he was
+emptied or broken. At last, as, in the ancient battles, armies rested
+on their arms to watch a duel in which both sides were represented,
+the whole town watched a run upon the great house of Pole, Thornton &
+Co. The Bank of England, from public motives, spiced of course with
+private interest, had determined to support Pole, Thornton & Co., and
+so perhaps stem the general fury, for all things have their
+turning-point. Three hundred thousand pounds were advanced to Pole &
+Co., who with this aid and their own resources battled through the
+week, but on Saturday night were drained so low that their fate once
+more depended on the Bank of England. Another large sum was advanced
+them. They went on; but, ere the next week ended, they succumbed, and
+universal panic gained the day.
+
+Climax of all, the Bank of England notes lost the confidence of the
+public, and a frightful run was made on it. The struggle had been
+prepared for, and was gigantic on both sides. Here the great hall of
+the bank, full of panic-stricken citizens jostling one another to get
+gold for the notes of the bank; there, foreign nations sending over
+ingots and coin to the bank, and the Mint working night and day,
+Sunday and week-day, to turn them into sovereigns to meet the run.
+Sovereigns or else half-sovereigns were promptly delivered on demand.
+No hesitation or sign of weakness peeped out; but under this bold and
+prudent surface, dismay, sickness of heart, and the dread of a great
+humiliation. At last, one dismal evening, this establishment, which at
+the beginning of the panic had twenty millions specie, left off with
+about five hundred thousand pounds in coin, and a similar amount in
+bullion. A large freight of gold was on the seas, coming to their aid,
+and due, but not arrived; the wind was high; and in a few hours the
+people would be howling round their doors again. They sent a hasty
+message to the government, and implored them to suspend, by order in
+council, the operation of Mr. Peel's bill for a few days. A plump
+negative from Mr. Canning.
+
+Then, being driven to expedients, they bethought them of a chest of 1
+pound notes that they had luckily omitted to burn.
+
+Another message to the government, "May we use these?"
+
+"As a temporary expedient, yes."
+
+The one-pound notes were whirling all over the country before
+daybreak, and, marvelous anomaly, which took Richard Hardie by
+surprise, they oiled the waves, the panic abated from that hour. The
+holders of country notes took the 1 pound B. E. notes as cash with
+avidity. The very sight of them piled on a counter stopped a run in
+more than one city.
+
+The demand for gold at the Bank of England continued, but less
+fiercely; and as the ingots still came tumbling in, and the Mint
+hailed sovereigns on them, their stock of specie rose as the demand
+declined, and they came out of their fiercest battle with honor. But,
+ere the tide turned, things in general came to a pass scarcely known
+in the history of civilized nations. Ladies and gentlemen took
+heirlooms to the pawnbrokers', and swept their tills of the last coin.
+Not only was wild speculation, hitherto so universal and ardent,
+snuffed out like a candle, but investment ceased and commerce came to
+a stand-still. Bank stock, East India stock, and, some days, consols
+themselves, did not go down; they went out, were blotted from the book
+of business. No man would give them gratis; no man would take them on
+any other terms. The brokers closed their books; there were no buyers
+nor sellers. Trade was coming to the same pass, except the retail
+business in eatables; and an observant statesman and economist, that
+watched the phenomenon, pronounced that in forty-eight hours more all
+dealings would have ceased between man and man, or returned to the
+rude and primitive form of barter, or direct exchange of men's several
+commodities, labor included.
+
+Finally, things crept into their places; shades of distinction were
+drawn between good securities and bad. Shares were forfeited,
+companies dissolved, bladders punctured, balloons flattened, bubbles
+burst, and thousands of families ruined--thousands of people
+beggared--and the nation itself, its paper fever reduced by a severe
+bleeding, lay sick, panting, exhausted, and discouraged for a year or
+two to await the eternal cycle--torpor, prudence, health, plethora,
+blood-letting; torpor, prudence, health, plethora, bloodletting, etc.,
+etc., etc., etc., _in secula seculorum._
+
+
+The journals pitched into "speculation."
+
+Three banks lay in the dust in the town of ----, and Hardie & Son
+stood looking calmly down upon the ruins.
+
+Richard Hardie had carried out his double-headed plan.
+
+There was no run upon him--could not be one in the course of nature,
+his balances were so low, and his notes were all at home. He created
+artificially a run of a very different kind. He dined the same party
+of tradesmen--all but one, who could not come, being at supper after
+Polonius his fashion. After dinner he showed the packets still sealed,
+and six more unsealed. "Here, gentlemen, is our whole issue." There
+was a huge wood fire in the old-fashioned room. He threw a packet of
+notes into it. A most respectable grocer yelled and lost color: victim
+of his senses, he thought sacred money was here destroyed, and his
+host a well-bred, and oh! how plausible, maniac. The others derided
+him, and packet after packet fed the flames. When two only were left,
+containing about five thousand pounds between them, Hardie junior made
+a proposal that they should advertise in their shop windows to receive
+Hardie's five-pound notes as five guineas in payment for their goods.
+Observing a natural hesitation, he explained that they would by this
+means, crush their competitors, and could easily clap a price on their
+goods to cover the odd shillings. The bargain was soon struck. Mr.
+Richard was a great man. All his guests felt in their secret souls and
+pockets--excuse the tautology--that some day or other they should want
+to borrow money of him. Besides, "crush their competitors!"
+
+Next day Mr. Richard loosed his hand and let a flock of his own
+bank-notes fly (they were asked for earnestly every day). Some soon
+found their way to the shops in question. The next day still more took
+wing and buzzed about the shops. Presently other tradesmen, finding
+people rushed to the shops in question, began to bid against them for
+Hardie's notes, a result the long-headed youth had expected; and said
+notes went up to ten shillings premium. Too calm and cold to be
+betrayed into deserting his principles, he confined the issue within
+the bounds he had prescribed, and when they were all out seldom saw
+one of them again. By this means he actually lowered the Bank of
+England notes in public estimation, and set his own high above them in
+the town of ----. Deposits came in. Confidence unparalleled took the
+place of fear so far as he was concerned, and he was left free to work
+the other part of his plan.
+
+To the amazement and mystification of old Skinner, he laid out ten
+thousand pounds in Exchequer bills, and followed this up by other
+large purchases of paper, paper, nothing but paper.
+
+Hardie senior was nervous.
+
+"Are you true to your own theory, Richard?"
+
+The youth explained to him that blind confidence always ends in blind
+distrust, and then all paper becomes depreciated alike, but good paper
+is sure to recover. "Sixty-two shillings discount, sir, is a
+ridiculous decline of Exchequer bills. We are at peace, and elastic,
+and the government is strong. My other purchases all rest upon certain
+information, carefully and laboriously amassed while the world was so
+busy blowing bubbles. I am now buying paper that is unjustly
+depreciated in Panic, i.e., in the second act of that mania of
+which Bubble is the first act." He added: "When the herd buy, the
+price rises; when they sell, it falls. To buy with them and sell with
+them is therefore to buy dear and sell cheap. My game--and it is a
+game that reduces speculation to a certainty--is threefold:
+
+"First, never, at any price or under any temptation, buy anything that
+is not as good as gold.
+
+"Secondly, buy that sound article when the herd sells it.
+
+"Thirdly, sell it when the herd buys it."
+
+"Richard," said the old man, "I see what it is--you are a genius."
+
+"No."
+
+"It is no use your denying it, Richard."
+
+"Common sense, sir, common sense."
+
+"Yes, but common sense carried to such a height as you do is genius."
+
+"Well, sir, then I own to the genius of common sense."
+
+"I admire you, Richard--I am proud of you; but the bank has stood one
+hundred and forty years, and never a genius in it;" the old man
+sighed.
+
+Hardie senior, having relieved his mind of this vague misgiving, never
+returned to it--probably never felt it again. It was one of those
+strange flashes that cross a mind as a meteor the sky.
+
+The old gentleman, having little to do, talked more than heretofore,
+and, like fathers, talked about his son, and, unlike sons, cried him
+up at his own expense. The world is not very incredulous; above all,
+it never disbelieves a man who calls himself a fool. Having then
+gained the public ear by the artifice of self-depreciation, he poured
+into it the praises of Hardie junior. He went about telling how he, an
+old man, was all but bubbled till this young Daniel came down and
+foretold all. Thus paternal garrulity combined for once with a man's
+own ability to place Richard Hardie on the pinnacle of provincial
+grandeur.
+
+A few years more and Hardie senior died. (His old clerk, Skinner,
+followed him a month later.)
+
+Richard Hardie, now sole partner and proprietor, assumed a mode of
+living unknown to his predecessors. He built a large, commodious
+house, and entertained in the first style. The best families in the
+neighborhood visited a man whose manner was quiet and stately, his
+income larger than their own, and his house and table luxurious
+without vulgar pretensions, and the red-hot gilding and glare with
+which the injudicious parvenu brands himself and furniture.
+
+The bank itself put on a new face. Twice as much glass fronted the
+street, and a skylight was let into the ceiling: there were five
+clerks instead of three; the new ones at much smaller salaries than
+the pair that had come down from antiquity.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+SUCH was Mr. Hardie at twenty-five, and his townspeople said: "If he
+is so wise now he is a boy, what in Heaven's name will he be at
+forty?" To sixty the provincial imagination did not attempt to follow
+his wisdom. He was now past thirty, and behind the scenes of his bank
+was still the able financier I have sketched. But in society he seemed
+another man. There his characteristics were quiet courtesy,
+imperturbability, a suave but impressive manner, vast information on
+current events, and no flavor whatever of the shop.
+
+He had learned the happy art, which might be called "the barrister's
+art," _hoc agendi,_ of throwing the whole man into a thing at one
+time, and out of it at another. In the bank and in his own study he
+was a devout worshiper of Mammon; in society, a courteous, polished,
+intelligent gentleman, always ready to sift and discuss any worthy
+topic you could start except finance. There was some affectation in
+the cold and immovable determination with which he declined to say
+three words about money. But these great men act habitually on a
+preconceived system: this gives them their force.
+
+If Lucy Fountain had been one of those empty girls that were so rife
+at the time, the sterling value of his conversation would have
+disgusted her, and his calm silence where there was nothing to be said
+(sure proof of intelligence) would have passed for stupidity with her.
+But she was intelligent, well used to bungling, straightforward
+flattery, and to smile with arch contempt at it, and very capable of
+appreciating the more subtle but less satirical compliment a man pays
+a pretty girl by talking sense to her; and, as it happened, her foible
+favored him no less than did her strong points. She attached too solid
+a value to manner; and Mr. Hardie's manner was, to her fancy, male
+perfection. It added to him in her estimation as much as David Dodd's
+defects in that kind detracted from the value of his mind and heart.
+
+To this favorable opinion Mr. Hardie responded in full.
+
+He had never seen so graceful a creature, nor so young a woman so
+courteous and high-bred.
+
+He observed at once, what less keen persons failed to discover, that
+she was seldom spontaneous or off her guard. He admired her the more.
+He had no sympathy with the infantine in man or woman. "She thinks
+before she speaks," said he, with a note of admiration. On the other
+hand, he missed a trait or two the young lady possessed, for they
+happened to be virtues he had no eye for; but the sum total was most
+favorable; in short, it was esteem at first sight.
+
+
+As a cobweb to a cabbage-net, so fine was Mrs. Bazalgette's
+reticulation compared with Uncle Fountain's. She invited Mr. Hardie to
+stay a fortnight with her, commencing just one day before Lucy's
+return. She arranged a round of gayety to celebrate the double event.
+What could be more simple? Yet there was policy below. The whirl of
+pleasure was to make Lucy forget everybody at Font Abbey; to empty her
+heart, and pave Mrs. B.'s candidate's way to the vacancy. Then, she
+never threw Mr. Hardie at Lucy's head, contenting herself with
+speaking of him with veneration when Lucy herself or others introduced
+his name. She was always contriving to throw the pair together, but no
+mortal could see her hand at work in it. _Bref,_ a she-spider.
+The first day or two she watched her niece on the sly, just to see
+whether she regretted Font Abbey, or, in other words, Mr. Talboys.
+Well acquainted with all the subtle signs by which women read one
+another, she observed with some uneasiness that Lucy appeared somewhat
+listless and pensive at times, when left quite to herself. Once she
+found her with her cheek in her hand, and, by the way the young lady
+averted her head and slid suddenly into distinct cheerfulness,
+suspected there must have been tears in her eyes, but could not be
+positive. Next, she noticed with satisfaction that the round of
+gayety, including, as it did, morning rides as well as evening dances,
+dissipated these little reveries and languors. She inferred that
+either there was nothing in them but a sort of sediment of
+_ennui,_ the natural remains of a visit to Font Abbey, or that,
+if there was anything more, it had yielded to the active pleasures she
+had provided, and to the lady's easy temper, and love of society, "the
+only thing she loves, or ever will," said Mrs. B., assuming prophecy.
+
+"Aunt, how superior Mr. Hardie's conversation is. He interests one in
+topics that are unbearable generally; politics now. I thought I
+abhorred them, but I find it was only those little paltry Whig and
+Tory squabbles that wearied me. Mr. Hardie's views are neither Whig
+nor Tory; they are patriotic, and sober, and large-minded. He thinks
+of the country. I can take some interest in what he calls politics."
+
+"And, pray, what is that?"
+
+"Well, aunt, the liberation of commerce from its fetters for one
+thing. I can contrive to be interested in that, because I know England
+can be great only by commerce. Then the education of all classes,
+because without that England cannot be enlightened or good."
+
+"He never says a word to me about such things," said Mrs. Bazalgette;
+"I suppose he thinks they are above poor me." She delivered this with
+so admirable an imitation of pique, that the courtier was deceived,
+and applied butter to "a fox's wound."
+
+"Oh no, aunt. Consider; if that was it, he would not waste them on me,
+who am so inferior to you in sagacity. More likely he says, 'This
+young lady has not yet completed her education; I will sprinkle a
+little good sense among her frivolous accomplishments.' Whatever the
+motive, I am very much obliged to Mr. Hardie. A man of sense is so
+refreshing after--(full stop). What do you think of his voice?"
+
+"His voice? I don't remember anything about it."
+
+"Yes, you do--you must; it is a very remarkable one; so mellow, so
+quiet, yet so modulated."
+
+"Well, I do remember now; it is rather a pleasant voice--for a man."
+
+"Rather a pleasant voice!" repeated Lucy, opening her eyes; "why, it
+is a voice to charm serpents."
+
+"Ha! ha! It has not charmed him one yet, you see."
+
+This speech was not in itself pellucid; but these sweet ladies among
+themselves have so few topics compared with men, and consequently beat
+their little manor so often, that they seize a familiar idea, under
+any disguise, with the rapidity of lightning.
+
+"Oh, charmers are charm-proof," replied Lucy; "that is the only reason
+why. I am sure of that." Then she reflected awhile. "It is his
+natural voice, is it not? Did you ever hear him speak in any other?
+Think."
+
+"Never."
+
+"Then he must be a good man. Apropos, is Mr. Hardie a good man, aunt?"
+
+"Why, of course he is."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"I never heard of any scandal against him."
+
+"Oh, I don't mean your negative goodness. You never heard anything
+against _me_ out of doors."
+
+"Well, and are you not a good girl?"
+
+"Me, aunt? Why, you know I am not."
+
+"Bless me, what have you done?"
+
+"I have done nothing, aunt," exclaimed Lucy, "and the good are never
+nullities. Then I am not open, which is a great fault in a character.
+But I can't help it! I can't! I can't!"
+
+"Well, you need not break your heart for that. You will get over it
+before you have been married a year. Look at me; I was as shy as any
+of you at first going off, but now I can speak my mind; and a good
+thing too, or what would become of me among the selfish set?"
+
+"Meaning me, dear?"
+
+"No. Divide it among you. Come, this is idle talk. Men's voices, and
+whether they are good, bad, or indifferent, as if that mattered a pin,
+provided their incomes are good and their manners endurable. I want a
+little serious conversation with you."
+
+"Do you?" and Lucy colored faintly; "with all my heart."
+
+"We go to the Hunts' ball the day after to-morrow, Lucy; I suppose you
+know that? Now what on earth am I to wear? that is the question. There
+is no time to get a new dress made, and I have not got one--"
+
+"That you have not worn at least once."
+
+"Some of them twice and three times;" and the B looked aghast at the
+state of nudity to which she was reduced. Lucy sidled toward the door.
+
+"Since you consult me, dear, I advise you to wear what I mean to wear
+myself."
+
+"Ah! what a capital idea! then we shall pass for sisters. I dare say I
+have got some old thing or other that will match yours; but you had
+better tell me at once what you do mean to wear."
+
+"A gown, a pair of gloves, and a smirk"; and with this heartless
+expression of nonchalance Lucy glided away and escaped the impending
+shower.
+
+"Oh, the selfishness of these girls!" cried the deserted one. "I have
+got her a husband to her taste, so now she runs away from me to think
+of him."
+
+The next moment she looked at the enormity from another point of view,
+and then with this burst of injured virtue gave way to a steady
+complacency.
+
+"She is caught at last. She notices his very voice. She fancies she
+cares for politics--ha! ha! She is gone to meditate on him--could not
+bear any other topic--would not even talk about dress, a thing her
+whole soul was wrapped up in till now. I have known her to go on for
+hours at a stretch about it."
+
+There are people with memories so constructed that what they said, and
+another did not contradict or even answer, seems to them, upon
+retrospect, to have been delivered by that other person, and received
+in dead silence by themselves.
+
+Meantime Lucy was in her own room and the door bolted.
+
+So she was the next day; and uneasy Mrs. Bazalgette came hunting her,
+and tapped at the door after first trying the handle, which in Lucy's
+creed was not a discreet and polished act.
+
+"Nobody admitted here till three o'clock."
+
+"It is me, Lucy."
+
+"So I conclude," said Lucy gayly. "'Me' must call again at three,
+whoever it is."
+
+"Not I," said Aunt Bazalgette, and flounced off in a pet.
+
+At three Dignity dissolved in curiosity, and Mrs. Bazalgette entered
+her niece's room in an ill-temper; it vanished like smoke at the sight
+of two new dresses, peach-colored and _glacees,_ just finished,
+lying on the bed. An eager fire of questions. "Where did you get them?
+which is mine? who made them?"
+
+"A new dressmaker."
+
+"Ah! what a godsend to poor us! Who is she?"
+
+"Let me see how you like her work before I tell you. Try this one on."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette tried on her dress, and was charmed with it. Lucy
+would not try on hers. She said she had done so, and it fitted well
+enough for her.
+
+"Everything fits you, you witch," replied the B. "I must have this
+woman's address; she is an angel."
+
+Lucy looked pleased. "She is only a beginner, but desirous to please
+you; and 'zeal goes farther than talent,' says Mr. Dodd."
+
+"Mr. Dodd! Ah! by-the-by, that reminds me--I am so glad you mentioned
+his name. Where does the woman live?"
+
+"The woman, or, as some consider her, the girl, lives at present with
+a charming person called by the world Mrs. Bazalgette, but by the
+dressmaker her sweet little aunt--" (kiss) (kiss) (kiss); and Lucy,
+whose natural affection for this lady was by a certain law of nature
+heated higher by working day and night for her in secret, felt a need
+of expansion, and curled, round her like a serpent with a dove's
+heart.
+
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette did what you and I, manly reader, should have been apt
+to omit. She extricated herself, not roughly, yet a little
+hastily--like a water-snake gliding out of the other sweet serpent's
+folds.* Sacred dress being present, she deemed caresses frivolous--and
+ill-timed. "There, there, let me alone, child, and tell me all about
+it directly. 'What put it into your head? Who taught you? Is this your
+first attempt? Have you paid for the silk, or am I to? Do tell me
+quick; don't keep me on thorns!"
+
+     * Here flashes on the cultivated mind the sprightly couplet,
+
+      "Oh, that I had my mistress at this bay,
+       To kiss and clip me--till I run away."
+
+                SHAKESPEARE.--Venus and Adonis.
+
+Lucy answered this fusillade in detail. "You know, aunt, dressmakers
+bring us their failures, and we, by our hints, get them made into
+successes."
+
+"So we do."
+
+"So I said to myself, 'Now why not bring a little intelligence to bear
+at the beginning, and make these things right at once?' Well, I bought
+several books, and studied them, and practiced cutting out, in large
+sheets of brown paper first; next I ventured a small flight--I made
+Jane a gown."
+
+"What! your servant?"
+
+"Yes. I had a double motive; first attempts are seldom brilliant, and
+it was better to fail in merino, and on Jane, than on you, madam, and
+in silk. In the next place, Jane had been giving herself airs, and
+objecting to do some work of that kind for me, so I thought it a good
+opportunity to teach her that dignity does not consist in being
+disobliging. The poor girl is so ashamed now: she comes to me in her
+merino frock, and pesters me all day to let her do things for me. I am
+at my wit's end sometimes to invent unreal distresses, like the
+writers of fiction, you know; and, aunty, dear, you will not have to
+pay for the stuff: to tell you the real truth, I overheard Mr.
+Bazalgette say something about the length of your last dressmaker's
+bill, and, as I have been very economical at Font Abbey, I found I had
+eighteen pounds to spare, so I said nothing, but I thought we will
+have a dress apiece that _nobody_ shall have to pay for."
+
+"Eighteen pounds? These two lovely dresses, lace, trimmings, and all,
+for eighteen pounds!"
+
+"Yes, aunt. So you see those good souls that make our dresses have
+imposed upon us without ceremony: they would have been twenty-five
+pounds apiece; now would they not?"
+
+"At least. Well, you are a clever girl. I might as well try on yours,
+as you won't."
+
+"Do, dear."
+
+She tried on Lucy's gown, and, as before, got two looking-glasses into
+a line, twisted and twirled, and inspected herself north, south, east
+and west, and in an hour and a half resigned herself to take the dress
+off. Lucy observed with a sly smile that her gayety declined, and she
+became silent and pensive.
+
+
+"In the dead of the night, when with labor oppressed, All mortals
+enjoy the sweet blessing of rest," a phantom stood at Lucy's bedside
+and fingered her. She awoke with a violent scream, the first note of
+which pierced the night's dull ear, but the second sounded like a wail
+from a well, being uttered a long way under the bedclothes. "Hush!
+don't be a fool," cried the affectionate phantom; and kneaded the
+uncertain form through the bedclothes; "fancy screeching so at sight
+of me!" Then gradually a single eye peeped timidly between two white
+hands that held the sheets ready for defense like a shield.
+
+"B--b--but you are all in white," gulped Lucy, trembling all over; for
+her delicate fibers were set quivering, and could not be stilled by a
+word, fingered at midnight all in a moment by a shape.
+
+"Why, what color should I be--in my nightgown?" snapped the specter.
+"What color is yours?" and she gave Lucy a little angry pull--"and
+everybody else's?"
+
+"But at the dead of night, aunt, and without any warning--it's
+terrible. Oh dear!" (another little gulp in the throat, exceeding
+pretty).
+
+"Lucy, be yourself," said the specter, severely; "you used not to be
+so selfish as to turn hysterical when your aunt came to you for
+advice."
+
+Lucy had to do a little. "Forgive, blessed shade!" She apologized,
+crushed down her obtrusive, egotistical tremors, and vibrated to
+herself.
+
+Placable Aunt Bazalgette accepted her excuses, and opened the business
+that brought her there.
+
+"I didn't leave my bed at this hour for nothing, you may be sure."
+
+"N--no, aunt."
+
+"Lucy," continued Mrs. Bazalgette, deepening, "there is a weight on my
+mind."
+
+Up sat Lucy in the bed, and two sapphire eyes opened wide and made
+terror lovely.
+
+"Oh, aunt, what have you been doing? It is remorse, then, that will
+not let you sleep. Ah! I see! your flirtations--your flirtations--this
+is the end of them."
+
+"My flirtations!" cried the other, in great surprise. "I never flirt.
+I only amuse myself with them."*
+
+     *In strict grammar this "them" ought to refer to
+     "flirtations;" but Lucy's aunt did not talk strict grammar.
+     Does yours?
+
+"You--never--flirt? Oh! oh! oh! Mr. Christopher, Mr. Horne, Sir George
+Healey, Mr. M'Donnell, Mr. Wolfenton, Mr. Vaughan--there! oh, and Mr.
+Dodd!"
+
+"Well, at all events, it's not for any of those fools I get out of my
+bed at this time of night. I have a weight on my mind; so do be
+serious, if you can. Lucy, I tried all yesterday to hide it from
+myself, but I cannot succeed."
+
+"What, dear aunt?"
+
+"That your gown fits me ever so much better than my own." She sighed
+deeply.
+
+Lucy smiled slyly; but she replied, "Is not that fancy?"
+
+"No, Lucy, no," was the solemn reply; "I have tried to shut my eyes to
+it, but I can't."
+
+"So it seems. Ha! ha!"
+
+"Now do be serious; it is no laughing matter. How unfortunate I am!"
+
+"Not at all. Take my gown; I can easily alter yours to fit me, if
+necessary."
+
+"Oh, you good girl, how clever you are! I should never have thought of
+that." N. B--She had been thinking of nothing else these six hours.
+
+"Go to bed, dear, and sleep in peace," said Lucy, soothingly. "Leave
+all to me."
+
+"No, I can't leave all to you. Now I am to have yours, I must try it
+on." It was hers now, so her confidence in its fitting was shaken.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette then lighted all the candles in the sconces, and
+opened Lucy's drawers, and took out linen, and put on the dress with
+Lucy's aid, and showed Lucy how it fitted, and was charmed, like a
+child with a new toy.
+
+Presently Lucy interrupted her raptures by an exclamation. Mrs.
+Bazalgette looked round, and there was her niece inspecting the
+ghostly robe which had caused her such a fright.
+
+"Here are oceans of yards of lace on her very nightgrown!" cried Lucy.
+
+"Well, does not every lady wear lace on her nightgown?" was the
+tranquil reply. "What is that on yours, pray?"
+
+"A little misery of Valenciennes an inch broad; but this is
+Mechlin--superb! delicious! Well, aunt, you are a sincere votary of
+the graces; you put on fine things because they are fine things, not
+with the hollow motive of dazzling society; you wear Mechlin, not for
+_eclat,_ but for Mechlin. Alas! how few, like you, pursue quite
+the same course in the dark that they do in the world's eye."
+
+"Don't moralize, dear; unhook me!"
+
+
+After breakfast Mrs. Bazalgette asked Lucy how long she could give her
+to choose which of the two gowns to take, after all.
+
+"Till eight o'clock."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette breathed again. She had thought herself committed to
+No. 2, and No. 1 was beginning to look lovely in consequence. At
+eight, the choice being offered her with impenetrable nonchalance by
+Lucy, she took Lucy's without a moment's hesitation, and sailed off
+gayly to her own room to put it on, in which progress the ample
+peach-colored silk held out in both hands showed like Cleopatra's
+foresail, and seemed to draw the dame along.
+
+Lucy, too, was happy--demurely; for in all this business the female
+novice, "la ruse sans le savoir," had outwitted the veteran. Lucy had
+measured her whole aunt. So she made dress A for her, but told her she
+was to have dress B. This at once gave her desires a perverse bent
+toward her own property, the last direction they could have been
+warped into by any other means; and so she was deluded to her good,
+and fitted to a hair, soul and body.
+
+Going to the ball, one cloud darkened for an instant the matron's
+mind.
+
+"I am so afraid they will see it only cost nine pounds."
+
+"Enfant!" replied Lucy, "aetat. 20." At the ball Mr. Hardie and Lucy
+danced together, and were the most admired couple.
+
+The next day Mr. Hardie announced that he was obliged to curtail his
+visit and go up to London. Mrs. Bazalgette remonstrated. Mr. Hardie
+apologized, and asked permission to make out the rest of his visit on
+his return. Mrs. B. accorded joyfully, but Lucy objected: "Aunt, don't
+you be deluded into any such arrangement; Mr. Hardie is liable to
+another fortnight. We have nothing to do with his mismanagement. He
+comes to spend a fortnight with us: he tries, but fails. I am sorry
+for Mr. Hardie, but the engagement remains in full force. I appeal to
+you, Mr. Bazalgette, you are so exact."
+
+"I don't see myself how he can get out of it with credit," said
+Bazalgette, solemnly.
+
+"I am happy to find that my duty is on the side of my inclination,"
+said Mr. Hardie. He smiled, well pleased, and looked handsomer than
+ever.
+
+They all missed him more or less, but nobody more than Lucy. His
+conversation had a peculiar charm for her. His knowledge of current
+events was unparalleled; then there was a quiet potency in him she
+thought very becoming in a man; and then his manner. He was the first
+of our unfortunate sex who had reached beau ideal. One was harsh,
+another finicking; a third loud; a fourth enthusiastic; a fifth timid;
+and all failed in tact except Mr. Hardie. Then, other male voices were
+imperfect; they were too insignificant or too startling, too bass or
+too treble, too something or too other. Mr. Hardie's was a mellow
+tenor, always modulated to the exact tone of good society. Like
+herself, too, he never laughed loud, seldom out; and even his smiles,
+like her own, did not come in unmeaning profusion, so they told when
+they did come.
+
+The Bazalgettes led a very quiet life for the next fortnight, for Mrs.
+Bazalgette was husbanding invitations for Mr. Hardie's return.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette yawned many times during this barren period, but with
+considerate benevolence she shielded Lucy from _ennui._ Lucy was
+a dressmaker, gifted, but inexperienced; well, then, she would supply
+the latter deficiency by giving her an infinite variety of alterations
+to make in a multitude of garments. There are egotists who charge for
+tuition, but she would teach her dear niece gratis. A mountain of
+dresses rose in the drawing-room, a dozen metamorphoses were put in
+hand, and a score more projected.
+
+"She pulled down, she built up, she rounded the angular, and squared
+the round." And here Mr. Bazalgette took perverse views and
+misbehaved. He was a very honest man, but not a refined courtier. He
+seldom interfered with these ladies, one way or other, except to
+provide funds, which interference was never snubbed; for was he not
+master of the house in that sense? But, having observed what was going
+on day after day in the drawing-room or workshop, he walked in and
+behaved himself like a brute.
+
+"How much a week does she give you, Lucy?" said he, looking a little
+red.
+
+Lucy opened her eyes in utter astonishment, and said nothing; her very
+needle and breath were suspended.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette shrugged her shoulders to Lucy, but disdained words.
+Mr. Bazalgette turned to his wife.
+
+"I have often recommended economy to you, Jane, I need not say with
+what success; but this sort of economy is not for your credit or mine.
+If you want to add a dressmaker to your staff--with all my heart. Send
+for one when you like, and keep her to all eternity. But this young
+lady is our ward, and I will not have her made a servant of for your
+convenience."
+
+"Put your work down, dear," said Mrs. Bazalgette resignedly. "He does
+not understand our affection, nor anything else except pounds,
+shillings and pence."
+
+"Oh, yes I do. I can see through varnished selfishness for one thing."
+
+"You certainly ought to be a judge of the unvarnished article,"
+retorted the lady.
+
+"Having had it constantly under my eyes these twenty years," rejoined
+the gentleman.
+
+"Oh, aunt! Oh, Mr. Bazalgette!" cried Lucy, rising and clasping her
+hands; if you really love me, never let me be the cause of a
+misunderstanding, or an angry word between those I esteem; it would
+make me too miserable; and, dear Mr. Bazalgette, you must let people
+be happy in their own way, or you will be sure to make them unhappy.
+My aunt and I understand one another better than you do."
+
+"She understands you, my poor girl."
+
+"Not so well as I do her. But she knows I hate to be idle, and love to
+do these bagatelles for her. It is my doing from the first, not hers;
+she did not even know I could do it till I produced two dresses for
+the Hunts' ball. So, you see--"
+
+"That is another matter; all ladies play at work. But you are in for
+_three months' hard labor._ Look at that heap of vanity. She is
+making a lady's-maid of you. It is unjust. It is selfish. It is
+improper. It is not for my credit, of which I am more jealous than
+coquettes are of theirs; besides, Lucy, you must not think, because I
+don't make a parade as she does, that I am not fond of you. I have a
+great deal more real affection for you than she has, and so you will
+find if we are ever put to the test."
+
+At this last absurdity Mrs. Bazalgette burst out laughing. But "la
+rusee sans le savoir" turned toward the speaker, and saw that he spoke
+with a certain emotion which was not ordinary in him. She instantly
+went to him with both hands gracefully extended. "I do think you have
+an affection for me. If you really have, show it me _some other
+way,_ and not by making me unhappy."
+
+"Well, then, I will, Lucy. Look here; if Solomon was such a fool as to
+argue with one of you young geese you would shut his mouth in a
+minute. There, I am going; but you will always be the slave of one
+selfish person or other; you were born for it."
+
+Thus impotently growling, the merchant prince retired from the field,
+escorted with amenity by the courtier. In the passage she suddenly
+dropped forward like a cypress-tree, and gave him her forehead to
+kiss. He kissed it with some little warmth, and confided to her, in
+friendly accents, that she was a fool, and off he went, grumbling
+inarticulately, to his foreign loans and things.
+
+The courtier returned to smooth her aunt in turn, but that lady
+stopped her with a lofty gesture.
+
+"My plan is to look on these monstrosities as horrid dreams, and go on
+as if nothing had happened."
+
+Happy philosophy.
+
+Lucy acquiesced with a smile, and in an instant both immortal souls
+plunged and disappeared in silk, satin, feathers and point lace.
+
+The afternoon post brought letters that furnished some excitement. Mr.
+Hardie announced his return, and Captain Kenealy accepted an
+invitation that had been sent to him two days before. But this was not
+all. Mrs. Bazalgette, with something between a laugh and a crow,
+handed Lucy a letter from Mr. Fountain, in which that diplomatic
+gentleman availed himself of her kind invitation, and with elephantine
+playfulness proposed, as he could not stay a month with her, to be
+permitted to bring a friend with him for a fortnight. This friend had
+unfortunately missed her through absence from his country-house at the
+period of her visit to Font Abbey, and had so constantly regretted his
+ill fortune that he (Fountain) had been induced to make this attempt
+to repair the calamity. His friend's name was Talboys; he was a
+gentleman of lineage, and in his numerous travels had made a
+collection of foreign costumes which were really worth inspecting,
+and, if agreeable to Mrs. Bazalgette, he should send them on before by
+wagon, for no carriage would hold them.
+
+Lucy colored on reading this letter, for it repeated a falsehood that
+had already made her blush. The next moment, remembering how very
+keenly her aunt must be eying her, and reading her, she looked
+straight before her, and said coldly, "Uncle Fountain ought to be
+welcome here for his courtesy to you at Font Abbey, but I think he
+takes rather a liberty in proposing a stranger to you."
+
+"Rather a liberty? Say a very great liberty."
+
+"Well, then, aunt, why not write back that any friend of his would be
+welcome, but that the house is full? You have only room for Uncle
+Fountain."
+
+"But that is not true, Lucy," said Mrs. Bazalgette, with sudden
+dignity.
+
+Lucy was staggered and abashed at this novel objection; recovering,
+she whined humbly, "but it is very nearly true."
+
+It was plain Lucy did not want Mr. Talboys to visit them. This decided
+Mrs. Bazalgette to let his dresses and him come. He would only be a
+foil to Mr. Hardie, and perhaps bring him on faster. Her decision once
+made on the above grounds, she conveyed it in characteristic colors.
+"No, my love; where I give my affection, there I give my confidence. I
+have your word not to encourage this gentleman's addresses, so why
+hurt your uncle's feelings by closing my door to his friend? It would
+be an ill compliment to you as well as to Mr. Fountain; he shall
+come."
+
+Her postscript to Mr. Fountain ran thus:
+
+"Your friend would have been welcome independently of the foreign
+costumes; but as I am a very candid little woman, I may as well tell
+you that, now you _have_ excited my curiosity, he will be a great
+deal more welcome with them than without them."
+
+And here I own that I, the simpleminded, should never have known all
+that was signified in these words but for the comment of John
+Fountain, Esq.
+
+"It is all right, Talboys," said he. "My bait has taken. You must pack
+up these gimcracks at once and send them off, or she'll smile like a
+marble Satan in your face, and stick you full of pins and needles."
+
+The next day Mr. Bazalgette walked into the room, haughtily overlooked
+the pyramid of dresses, and asked Lucy to come downstairs and see
+something. She put her work aside, and went down with him, and lo! two
+ponies--a cream-colored and a bay. "Oh, you loves!" cried the virgin,
+passionately, and blushed with pleasure. Her heart was very
+accessible--to quadrupeds.
+
+"Now you are to choose which of these you will have."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Bazalgette!"
+
+"Have you forgotten what you told me? 'Try and make me happy some
+other way,' says you. Now I remembered hearing you say what a nice
+pony you had at Font Abbey; so I sent a capable person to collect
+ponies for you. These have both a reputation. Which will you have?"
+
+"Dear, good, kind Uncle Bazalgette; they are ducks!"
+
+"Let us hope not; a duck's paces won't suit you, if you are as fond of
+galloping as other young ladies. Come, jump up, and see which is the
+best brute of the two."
+
+"What, without my habit?"
+
+"Well, get your habit on, then. Let us see how quick you can be."
+
+Off ran Lucy, and soon returned fully equipped. She mounted the ponies
+in turn, and rode them each a mile or two in short distances. Finally
+she dismounted, and stood beaming on the steps of the hall. The groom
+held the ponies for final judgment.
+
+"The bay is rather the best goer, dear," said she, timidly.
+
+"Miss Fountain chooses the bay, Tom."
+
+"No, uncle, I was going to ask you if I might have the cream-colored
+one. He is so pretty."
+
+"Ha! ha! ha! here's a little goose. Why, they are to ride, not to
+wear. Come, I see you are in a difficulty. Take them both to the
+stable, Tom."
+
+"No, no, no," cried Lucy. "Oh, Mr. Bazalgette, don't tempt me to be so
+wicked." Then she put both her fingers in her ears and screamed, "Take
+the bay darling out of my sight, and leave the cream-colored love."
+And as she persisted in this order, with her fingers in her ears, and
+an inclination to stamp with her little feet, the bay disappeared and
+color won the day.
+
+Then she dropped suddenly like a cypress toward Mr. Bazalgette, which
+meant "you can kiss me." This time it was her cheek she proffered, all
+glowing with exercise and innocent excitement.
+
+
+Captain Kenealy was the first arrival: a well-appointed soldier; eyes
+equally bright under calm and excitement, mustache always clean and
+glossy; power of assent prodigious. He looked so warlike, and was so
+inoffensive, that he was in great request for miles and miles round
+the garrison town of ----. The girls, at first introduction to him,
+admired him, and waited palpitating to be torn from their mammas, and
+carried half by persuasion, half by force, to their conqueror's tent;
+but after a bit they always found him out, and talked before, and at,
+and across this ornament as if it had been a bronze Mars, or a
+mustache-tipped shadow. This the men viewing from a little distance
+envied the gallant captain, and they might just as well have been
+jealous of a hair-dresser's dummy.
+
+One eventful afternoon, Mrs. Bazalgette and Miss Fountain walked out,
+taking the gallant captain between them as escort. Reginald hovered on
+the rear. Kenealy was charmingly equipped, and lent the party a
+luster. If he did not contribute much to the conversation, he did not
+interrupt it, for the ladies talked through him as if he had been a
+column of red air. Sing, muse, how often Kenealy said "yaas" that
+afternoon; on second thoughts, don't. I can weary my readers without
+celestial aid: Toot! toot! toot! went a cheerful horn, and the
+mail-coach came into sight round a corner, and rolled rapidly toward
+them. Lucy looked anxiously round, and warned Master Reginald of the
+danger now impending over infants. The terrible child went instantly
+(on the "vitantes stulti vitia" principle) clean off the road
+altogether into the ditch, and clayed (not pipe) his trousers to the
+knee. As the coach passed, a gentleman on the box took off his hat to
+the ladies and made other signs. It was Mr. Hardie.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette proposed to return home to receive him. They were
+about a mile from the house. They had not gone far before the
+rear-guard intermitted blackberrying for an instant, and uttered an
+eldrich screech; then proclaimed, "Another coach! another coach!" It
+was a light break coming gently along, with two showy horses in it,
+and a pony trotting behind.
+
+At one and the same moment Lucy recognized a four-footed darling, and
+the servant recognized her. He drew up, touched his hat, and inquired
+respectfully whether he was going right for Mr. Bazalgette's. Mrs.
+Bazalgette gave him directions while Lucy was patting the pony, and
+showering on him those ardent terms of endearment some ladies bestow
+on their lovers, but this one consecrated to her trustees and
+quadrupeds. In the break were saddles, and a side-saddle, and other
+caparisons, and a giant box; the ladies looked first at it, and then
+through Kenealy at one another, and so settled what was inside that
+box.
+
+They had not walked a furlong before a traveling-carriage and four
+horses came dashing along, and heads were put out of the window, and
+the postboys ordered to stop. Mr. Talboys and Mr. Fountain got out,
+and the carriage was sent on. Introductions took place. Mrs.
+Bazalgette felt her spirits rise like a veteran's when line of battle
+is being formed. She was one of those ladies who are agreeable or
+disagreeable at will. She decided to charm, and she threw her
+enchantment over Messrs. Fountain and Talboys. Coming with hostile
+views, and therefore guilty consciences, they had expected a cold
+welcome. They received a warm, gay, and airy one. After a while she
+maneuvered so as to get between Mr. Fountain and Captain Kenealy, and
+leave Lucy to Mr. Talboys. She gave her such a sly look as she did it.
+It implied, "You will have to tell me all he says to you while we are
+dressing."
+
+Mr. Talboys inquired who was Captain Kenealy. He learned by her answer
+that that officer had arrived to-day, and she had no previous
+acquaintance with him.
+
+Whatever little embarrassment Lucy might feel, remembering her
+equestrian performance with Mr. Talboys and its cause, she showed
+none. She began about the pony, and how kind of him it was to bring
+it. "And yet," said she, "if I had known, I would not have allowed you
+to take the trouble, for I have a pony here."
+
+Mr. Talboys was sorry for that, but he hoped she would ride his now
+and then, all the same.
+
+"Oh, of course. My pony here is very pretty. But a new friend is not
+like an old friend."
+
+Mr. Talboys was gratified on more accounts than one by this speech. It
+gave him a sense of security. She had no friend about her now she had
+known as long as she had him, and those three months of constant
+intimacy placed him above competition. His mind was at ease, and he
+felt he could pop with a certainty of success, and pop he would, too,
+without any unnecessary delay.
+
+The party arrived in great content and delectation at the gates that
+led to the house. "Stay!" said Mrs. Bazalgette; "you must come across
+the way, all of you. Here is a view that all our guests are expected
+to admire. Those, that cry out 'Charming! beautiful! Oh, I never!' we
+take them in and make them comfortable. Those that won't or can't
+ejaculate--"
+
+"You put them in damp beds," said Mr. Fountain, only half in jest.
+
+"Worse than that, sir--we flirt with them, and disturb the placid
+current of their hearts forever and ever. Don't we, Lucy?"
+
+"You know best, aunt," said Lucy, half malice, half pout. The others
+followed the gay lady, and, when the view burst, ejaculated to order.
+
+But Mr. Fountain stood ostentatiously in the middle of the road, with
+his legs apart, like him of Rhodes. "I choose the alternative," cried
+he. "Sooner than pretend I admire sixteen plowed fields and a hill as
+much as I do a lawn and flower-beds, I elect to be flirted, and my
+what do ye call 'em?--my stagnant current--turned into a whirlpool."
+Ere the laugh had well subsided, caused by this imitation of Hercules
+and his choice, he struck up again, "Good news for you, young
+gentleman; I smell a ball; here is a fiddle-case making for this
+hospitable mansion."
+
+"No," said Mrs. Bazalgette, "I never ordered any musician to come
+here."
+
+A tall but active figure came walking light as a feather, with a large
+carpet-bag on his back, a boy behind carrying a violin-case.
+
+Lucy colored and lowered her eyes, but never said a word.
+
+The young man came up to the gate, and then Mr. Talboys recognized
+him.
+
+He hesitated a single moment, then turned and came to the group and
+took off his hat to the ladies. It was David Dodd!
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+THE new guest's manner of presenting himself with his stick over his
+shoulder, and his carpet-bag on his back, subjected him to a battery
+of stares from Kenealy, Talboys, Fountain, and abashed him sore.
+
+This lasted but a moment. He had one friend in the group who was too
+true to her flirtations while they endured, and too strong-willed, to
+let her flirtee be discouraged by mortal.
+
+"Why, it is Mr. Dodd," cried she, with enthusiasm, and she put forth
+both hands to him, the palms downward, with a smiling grace. "Surely
+you know Mr. Dodd," said she, turning round quickly to the gentlemen,
+with a smile on her lip, but a dangerous devil in her eye.
+
+The mistress of the house is all-powerful on these occasions. Messrs.
+Talboys and Fountain were forced to do the amiable, raging within;
+Lucy anticipated them; but her welcome was a cold one. Says Mrs.
+Bazalgette, tenderly, "And why do you carry that heavy bag, when you
+have that great stout lad with you? I think it is his business to
+carry it, not yours"; and her eyes scathed the boy, fiddle and all.
+
+All the time she was saying this David was winking to her, and making
+faces to her not to go on that tack. His conduct now explained his
+pantomime. "Here, youngster," said he, "you take these things
+in-doors, and here is your half-crown."
+
+Lucy averted her head, and smiled unobserved.
+
+As soon as the lad was out of hearing, David continued: "It was not
+worth while to mortify him. The fact is, I hired him to carry it; but,
+bless you, the first mile he began to go down by the head, and would
+have foundered; so we shifted our cargoes." This amused Kenealy, who
+laughed good-humoredly. On this, David laughed for company.
+
+"There," cried his inamorata, with rapture, "that is Mr. Dodd all
+over; thinks of everybody, high or low, before himself." There was a
+grunt somewhere behind her; her quick ear caught it; she turned round
+like a thing on a pivot, and slapped the nearest face. It happened to
+be Fountain's; so she continued with such a treacle smile, "Don't you
+remember, sir, how he used to teach your cub mathematics gratis?" The
+sweet smile and the keen contemporaneous scratch confounded Mr.
+Fountain for a second. As soon as he revived he said stiffly, "We can
+all appreciate Mr. Dodd."
+
+Having thus established her Adonis on a satisfactory footing, she
+broke out all over graciousness again, and, smiling and chatting, led
+her guests beneath the hospitable roof.
+
+But one of these guests did not respond to her cheerful strain. The
+Norman knight was full of bitterness. Mr. Talboys drew his friend
+aside and proposed to him to go back again. The senior was aghast.
+"Don't be so precipitate," was all that he could urge this time.
+"Confound the fellow! Yes, if that is the man she prefers to you, I
+will go home with you to-morrow, and the vile hussy shall never enter
+my doors again."
+
+In this mind the pair went devious to their dressing-rooms.
+
+
+One day a witty woman said of a man that "he played the politician
+about turnips and cabbages." That might be retorted (by a snob and
+brute) on her own sex in general, and upon Mrs. Bazalgette in
+particular. This sweet lady maneuvered on a carpet like Marlborough on
+the south of France. She was brimful of resources, and they all tended
+toward one sacred object, getting her own way. She could be imperious
+at a pinch and knock down opposition; but she liked far better to
+undermine it, dissolve it, or evade it. She was too much of a woman to
+run straight to her _je-le-veux,_ so long as she could wind
+thitherward serpentinely and by detour. She could have said to Mr.
+Hardie, "You will take down Lucy to dinner," and to Mr. Dodd, "You
+will sit next me"; but no, she must mold her males--as per sample.
+
+To Mr. Fountain she said, "Your friend, I hear, is of old family."
+
+"Came in with the Conqueror, madam."
+
+"Then he shall take me down: that will be the first step toward
+conquering me--ha! ha!" Fountain bowed, well pleased.
+
+To Mr. Hardie she said, "Will you take down Lucy to-day? I see she
+enjoys your conversation. Observe how disinterested I am."
+
+Hardie consented with twinkling composure.
+
+Before dinner she caught Kenealy, drew him aside, and put on a long
+face. "I am afraid I must lose you to-day at dinner. Mr. Dodd is quite
+a stranger, and they all tell me I must put him at his ease.
+
+"Yaas."
+
+"Well, then, you had better get next Lucy, as you can't have me."
+
+"Yaas."
+
+"And, Captain Kenealy, you are my aid-de-camp. It is a delightful
+post, you know, and rather a troublesome one."
+
+"Yaas."
+
+"You must help me be kind to this sailor."
+
+"Yaas. He is a good fellaa. Carried the baeg for the little caed."
+
+"Oh, did he?"
+
+"And didn't maind been laughed at."
+
+"Now, that shows how intelligent you must be," said the wily one; "the
+others could not comprehend the trait. Well, you and I must patronize
+him. Merit is always so dreadfully modest."
+
+"Yaas."
+
+This arrangement was admirable, but human; consequently, not without a
+flaw. Uncle Fountain was left to chance, like the flying atoms of
+Epicurus, and chance put him at Bazalgette's right hand save one. From
+this point his inquisitive eye commanded David Dodd and Mrs.
+Bazalgette, and raked Lucy and her neighbors, who were on the opposite
+side of the table. People who look, bent on seeing everything,
+generally see something; item, it is not always what they would like
+to see.
+
+As they retired to rest for the night, Mr. Fountain invited his friend
+to his room.
+
+"We shall not have to go home. I have got the key to our antagonist.
+Young Dodd is _her_ lover." Talboys shook his head with cool
+contempt. "What I mean is that she has invited him for her own
+amusement, not her niece's. I never saw a woman throw herself at any
+man's head as she did at that sailor's all dinner. Her very husband
+saw it. He is a cool hand, that Bazalgette; he only grinned, and took
+wine with the sailor. He has seen a good many go the same
+road--soldiers, sailors, tinkers, tai--"
+
+Talboys interrupted him. "I really must call you to order. You are
+prejudiced against poor Mrs. Bazalgette, and prejudice blinds
+everybody. Politeness required that she should show some attention to
+her neighbor, but her principal attention was certainly not bestowed
+on Mr. Dodd."
+
+Fountain was surprised. "On whom, then?"
+
+"Well, to tell the truth, on your humble servant."
+
+Fountain stared. "I observed she did not neglect you; but when she
+turned to Dodd her face puckered itself into smiles like a bag."
+
+"I did not see it, and I was nearer her than you," said Talboys
+coldly.
+
+"But I was in front of her."
+
+"Yes, a mile off." There being no jurisconsult present to explain to
+these two magistrates that if fifty people don't see a woman pucker
+her face like a bag, and one does see her p. h. f. l. a. b., the
+affirmative evidence preponderates, they were very near coming to a
+quarrel on this grave point. It was Fountain who made peace. He
+suddenly remembered that his friend had never been known to change an
+opinion. "Well," said he, "let us leave that; we shall have other
+opportunities of watching Dodd and her; meantime I am sorry I cannot
+convince you of my good news, for I have some bad to balance it. You
+have a rival, and he did not sit next Mrs. Bazalgette."
+
+"Pray may I ask whom he did sit next?" sneered Talboys.
+
+"He sat--like a man who meant to win--by the girl herself."
+
+"Oh, then it is that sing-song captain you fear, sir?" drawled
+Talboys.
+
+"No, sir, no more than I dread the _epergne._ Try the other
+side."
+
+"What, Mr. Hardie? Why, he is a banker."
+
+"And a rich one."
+
+"She would never marry a banker."
+
+"Perhaps not, if she were uninfluenced; but we are not at Talboys
+Court or Font Abbey now. We have fallen into a den of _parvenues._ That
+Hardie is a great catch, according to their views, and all Mrs.
+Bazalgette's influence with Lucy will be used in his favor.
+
+"I think not. She spoke quite slightingly of him to me."
+
+"Did she? Then that puts the matter quite beyond doubt. Why should she
+speak slightingly of him? Bazalgette spoke to me of him with grave
+veneration. He is handsome, well behaved, and the girl talked to him
+nineteen to the dozen. Mrs. Bazalgette could not be sincere in
+underrating him. She undervalued him to throw dust in your eyes."
+
+"It is not so easy to throw dust in my eyes."
+
+"I don't say it is; but this woman will do it; she is as artful as a
+fox. She hoodwinked even me for a moment. I really did not see through
+her feigned politeness in letting you take her down to dinner."
+
+"You mistake her character entirely. She is coquettish, and not so
+well-bred as her niece, but artful she is not. In fact, there is
+almost a childish frankness about her."
+
+At this stroke of observation Fountain burst out laughing bitterly.
+
+Talboys turned pale with suppressed ire, and went on doggedly: "You
+are mistaken in every particular. Mrs. Bazalgette has no fixed views
+for her niece, and I by no means despair of winning her to my side.
+She is anything but discouraging."
+
+Fountain groaned.
+
+"Mr. Hardie is a new acquaintance, and Miss Fountain told me herself
+she preferred old friends to new. She looked quite conscious as she
+said it. In a word, Mr. Dodd is the only rival I have to
+fear--good-night;" and he went out with a stately wave of the hand,
+like royalty declining farther conference. Mr. Fountain sank into an
+armchair, and muttered feebly, "Good-night." There he sat collapsed
+till his friend's retiring steps were heard no more; then, springing
+wildly to his feet, he relieved his swelling mind with a long, loud,
+articulated roar of Anglo-Saxon, "Fool! dolt! coxcomb! noodle! puppy!
+ass!!!!"
+
+Did ye ever read "Tully 'de Amicitia'?"
+
+
+David Dodd was saved from misery by want of vanity. His reception at
+the gate by Miss Fountain was cool and constrained, but it did not
+wound him. For the last month life had been a blank to him. She was
+his sun. He saw her once more, and the bare sight filled him with life
+and joy. His was naturally a sanguine, contented mind. Some lovers
+equally ardent would have seen more to repine at than to enjoy in the
+whole situation; not so David. She sat between Kenealy and Hardie, but
+her presence filled the whole room, and he who loved her better than
+any other had the best right to be happy in the place that held her.
+He had only to turn his eyes, and he could see her. What a blessing,
+after a month of vacancy and darkness. This simple idolatry made him
+so happy that his heart overflowed on all within reach. He gave Mrs.
+Bazalgette answers full of kindness and arch gayety combined. He
+charmed an old married lady on his right. His was the gay, the merry
+end of the table, and others wished themselves up at it.
+
+After the ladies had retired, his narrative powers, _bonhomie_
+and manly frankness soon told upon the men, and peals of genuine
+laughter echoed up to the very drawing-room, bringing a deputation
+from the kitchen to the keyhole, and irritating the ladies overhead,
+who sat trickling faint monosyllables about their three little topics.
+
+Lucy took it philosophically. "Now those are the good creatures that
+are said to be so unhappy without us. It was a weight off their minds
+when the door closed on our retiring forms--ha! ha!"
+
+"It was a restraint taken off them, my dear," said Mrs. Mordan, a
+starched dowager, stiffening to the naked eye as she spoke. "When they
+laugh like that, they are always saying something improper."
+
+"Oh, the wicked things," replied Lucy, mighty calmly.
+
+"I wish I knew what they are saying," said eagerly another young lady;
+then added, "Oh!" and blushed, observing her error mirrored in all
+eyes.
+
+Lucy the Clement instructed her out of the depths of her own
+experience in impropriety. "They swear. That is what Mrs. Mordan
+means," and so to the piano with dignity.
+
+Presently in came Messrs. Fountain and Talboys. Mrs. Bazalgette asked
+the former a little crossly how he could make up his mind to leave the
+gay party downstairs.
+
+"Oh, it was only that fellow Dodd. The dog is certainly very amusing,
+but 'there's metal more attractive here.'"
+
+Coffee and tea were fired down at the other gentlemen by way of hints;
+but Dodd prevailed over all, and it was nearly bedtime when they
+joined the ladies.
+
+Mr. Talboys had an hour with Lucy, and no rival by to ruffle him.
+
+Next day a riding-party was organized. Mr. Talboys decided in his mind
+that Kenealy was even less dangerous than Hardie, so lent him the
+quieter of his two nags, and rode a hot, rampageous brute, whose very
+name was Lucifer, so that will give you an idea. The grooms had driven
+him with a kicking-strap and two pair of reins, and even so were
+reluctant to drive him at all, but his steady companion had balanced
+him a bit. Lucy was to ride her old pony, and Mrs. Bazalgette the new.
+The horses came to the door; one of the grooms offered to put Lucy up.
+Talboys waved him loftily back, and then, strange as it may appear,
+David, for the first time in his life, saw a gentleman lift a lady
+into the saddle.
+
+Lucy laid her right hand on the pommel and resigned her left foot; Mr.
+Talboys put his hand under that foot and heaved her smoothly into the
+saddle. "That is clever," thought simple David; "that chap has got
+more pith in his arm than one would think." They cantered away, and
+left him looking sadly after them. It seemed so hard that another man
+should have her sweet foot in his hand, should lift her whole glorious
+person, and smooth her sacred dress, and he stand by helpless; and
+then the indifference with which that man had done it all. To him it
+had been no sacred pleasure, no great privilege. A sense of loneliness
+struck chill on David as the clatter of her pony's hoofs died away. He
+was in the house; but in that house was a sort of inner circle, of
+which she was the center, and he was to be outside it altogether.
+
+Liable to great wrath upon great occasions, he had little of that
+small irritability that goes with an egotistical mind and feminine
+fiber, so he merely hung his head, blamed nobody, and was sad in a
+manly way. While he leaned against the portico in this dejected mood,
+a little hand pulled his coat-tail. It was Master Reginald, who looked
+up in his face, and said timidly, "Will you play with me?" The fact
+is, Mr. Reginald's natural audacity had received a momentary check. He
+had just put this same question to Mr. Hardie in the library, and had
+been rejected with ignominy, and recommended to go out of doors for
+his own health and the comfort of such as desired peaceable study of
+British and foreign intelligence.
+
+"That I will, my little gentleman," said David, "if I know the game."
+
+"Oh, I don't care what it is, so that it is fun. What is your name?"
+
+"David Dodd."
+
+"Oh."
+
+"And what is yours?"
+
+"What, don't--you--know??? Why, Reginald George Bazalgette. I am
+seven. I am the eldest. I am to have more money than the others when
+papa dies, Jane says. I wonder when he will die."
+
+"When he does you will lose his love, and that is worth more than his
+money; so you take my advice and love him dearly while you have got
+him."
+
+"Oh, I like papa very well. He is good-natured all day long. Mamma is
+so ill-tempered till dinner, and then they won't let me dine with her;
+and then, as soon as mamma has begun to be good-tempered upstairs in
+the drawing-room, my bedtime comes directly; it's abominable!!" The
+last word rose into a squeak under his sense of wrong.
+
+David smiled kindly: "So it seems we all have our troubles," said he.
+
+"What! have you any troubles?" and Reginald opened his eyes in wonder.
+He thought size was an armor against care.
+
+"Not so many as most folk, thank God, but I have some," and David
+sighed.
+
+"Why, if I was as big as you, I'd have no troubles. I'd beat everybody
+that troubled me, and I would marry Lucy directly"; and at that
+beloved name my lord falls into a reverie ten seconds long.
+
+David gave a start, and an ejaculation rose to his lips. He looked
+down with comical horror upon the little chubby imp who had divined
+his thought.
+
+Mr. Reginald soon undeceived him. "She is to be my wife, you know.
+Don't you think she will make a capital one?" Before David could
+decide this point for him, the kaleidoscopic mind of the terrible
+infant had taken another turn. "Come into the stable-yard; I'll show
+you Tom," cried young master, enthusiastically. Finally, David had to
+make the boy a kite. When made it took two hours for the paste to dry;
+and as every ten minutes spent in waiting seemed an hour to one of Mr.
+Reginald's kidney, as the English classics phrase it, he was almost in
+a state of frenzy at last, and flew his new kite with yells. But after
+a bit he missed a familiar incident; "It doesn't tumble down; my other
+kites all tumble down."
+
+"More shame for them," said David, with a dash of contempt, and
+explained to him that tumbling down is a flaw in a kite, just as
+foundering at sea is a vile habit in a ship, and that each of these
+descents, however picturesque to childhood's eye, implies a
+construction originally derective, or some little subsequent
+mismanagement. It appeared by Reginald's retort that when his kite
+tumbled he had the tumultuous joy of flying it again, but, by its
+keeping the air like this, monotony reigned; so he now proposed that
+his new friend should fasten the string to the pump-handle, and play
+at ball with him beneath the kite. The good-natured sailor consented,
+and thus the little voluptuary secured a terrestrial and ever-varying
+excitement, while occasional glances upward soothed him with the mild
+consciousness that there was his property still hovering in the
+empyrean; amid all which, poor love-sick David was seized with a
+desire to hear the name of her he loved, and her praise, even from
+these small lips. "So you are very fond of Miss Lucy?" said he.
+
+"Yes," replied Reginald, dryly, and said no more; for it is a
+characteristic of the awfu' bairn to be mute where fluency is
+required, voluble where silence.
+
+"I wonder why you love her so much," said David, cunningly. Reginald's
+face, instead of brightening with the spirit of explanation, became
+instantly lack-luster and dough-like; for, be it known, to the
+everlasting discredit of human nature, that his affection and
+matrimonial intentions, as they were no secret, so they were the butt
+of satire from grown-up persons of both sexes in the house, and of
+various social grades; down to the very gardener, all had had a fling
+at him. But soon his natural cordiality gained the better of that
+momentary reserve. "Well, I'll tell you," said he, "because you have
+behaved well all day."
+
+David was all expectation.
+
+"I like her because she has got red cheeks, and does whatever one asks
+her."
+
+
+Oh, breadth of statement! Why was not David one of your repeaters? He
+would have gone and told Lucy. I should have liked her to know in what
+grand primitive colors peach-bloom and queenly courtesy strike what
+Mr. Tennyson is pleased to call "the deep mind of dauntless infancy."
+But David Dodd was not a reporter, and so I don't get my way; and how
+few of us do! not even Mr. Reginald, whose joyous companionship with
+David was now blighted by a footman. At sight of the coming plush,
+"There, now!" cried Reginald. He anticipated evil, for messages from
+the ruling powers were nearly always adverse to his joys. The footman
+came to say that his master would feel obliged if Mr. Dodd would step
+into his study a minute.
+
+David went immediately.
+
+"There, now!" squeaked Reginald, rising an octave. "I'm never happy
+for two hours together." This was true. He omitted to add, "Nor
+unhappy for one." The dear child sought comfort in retaliation. He
+took stones and pelted the footman's retiring calves. His admirers, if
+any, will be glad to learn that this act of intelligent retribution
+soothed his deep mind a little.
+
+Mr. Bazalgette had been much interested by David's conversation the
+last night, and, hearing he was not with the riding-party, had a mind
+to chat with him. David found him in a magnificent study, lined with
+books, and hung with beautiful maps that lurked in mahogany cylinders
+attached to the wall; and you pulled them out by inserting a
+brass-hooked stick into their rings, and hauling. Mr. Bazalgette began
+by putting him a question about a distant port to which he had just
+sent out some goods. David gave him full information. Began,
+seaman-like, with the entrance to the harbor, and told him what danger
+his captain should look out for in running in, and how to avoid it;
+and from that went to the character of the natives, their tricks upon
+the sailors, their habits, tastes, and fancies, and, entering with
+intelligence into his companion's business, gave him some very shrewd
+hints as to the sort of cargo that would tempt them to sell the very
+rings out of their ears. Succeeding so well in this, Mr. Bazalgette
+plied him on other points, and found him full of valuable matter, and,
+by a rare union of qualities, very modest and very frank. "Now I like
+this," said Mr. Bazalgette, cheerfully. "This is a return to old
+customs. A century or two ago, you know, the merchant and the captain
+felt themselves parts of the same stick, and they used to sit and
+smoke together before a voyage, and sup together after one, and be
+always putting their heads together; but of late the stick has got so
+much longer, and so many knots between the handle and the point, that
+we have quite lost sight of one another. Here we merchants sit at home
+at ease, and send you fine fellows out among storms and waves, and
+think more of a bale of cotton spoiled than of a captain drowned."
+
+David. "And we eat your bread, sir, as if it dropped from the
+clouds, and quite forget whose money and spirit of enterprise causes
+the ship to be laid on the stocks, and then built, and then rigged,
+and then launched, and then manned, and then sailed from port to
+port."
+
+"Well, well, if you eat our bread, we eat your labor, your skill, your
+courage, and sometimes your lives, I am sorry to say. Merchants and
+captains ought really to be better acquainted."
+
+"Well, sir," said David, "now you mention it, you are the first
+merchant of any consequence I ever had the advantage of talking with."
+
+"The advantage is mutual, sir; you have given me one or two hints I
+could not have got from fifty merchants. I mean to coin you, Captain
+Dodd."
+
+David laughed and blushed. "I doubt it will be but copper coin if you
+do. But I am not a captain; I am only first mate."
+
+"You don't say so! Why, how comes that?"
+
+"Well, sir, I went to sea very young, but I wasted a year or two in
+private ventures. When I say wasted, I picked up a heap of knowledge
+that I could not have gained on the China voyage, but it has lost me a
+little in length of standing; but, on the other hand, I have been very
+lucky; it is not every one that gets to be first mate at my age; and
+after next voyage, if I can only make a little bit of interest, I
+think I shall be a captain. No, sir, I wish I was a captain; I never
+wished it as now;" and David sighed deeply.
+
+"Humph!" said Mr. Bazalgette, and took a note.
+
+He then showed David his maps. David inspected them with almost boyish
+delight, and showed the merchant the courses of ships on Eastern and
+Western voyages, and explained the winds and currents that compelled
+them to go one road and return another, and in both cases to go so
+wonderfully out of what seems the track as they do. _Bref,_ the
+two ends of the mercantile stick came nearer.
+
+"My study is always open to you, Mr. Dodd, and I hope you will not let
+a day pass without obliging me by looking in upon me."
+
+David thanked him, and went out innocently unconscious that he had
+performed an unparalleled feat. In the hall he met Captain Kenealy,
+who, having received orders to amuse him, invited him to play at
+billiards. David consented, out of good-nature, to please Kenealy.
+Thus the whole day passed, and _les facheux_ would not let him
+get a word with Lucy.
+
+At dinner he was separated from her, and so hotly and skillfully
+engaged by Mrs. Bazalgette that he had scarcely time to look at his
+idol. After dinner he had to contest her with Mr. Talboys and Mr.
+Hardie, the latter of whom he found a very able and sturdy antagonist.
+Mr. Hardie had also many advantages over him. First, the young lady
+was not the least shy of Mr. Hardie, but the parting scene beyond
+Royston had put her on her guard against David, and her instinct of
+defense made her reserved with him. Secondly, Mrs. Bazalgette was
+perpetually making diversions, whose double object was to get David to
+herself and leave Lucy to Mr. Hardie.
+
+With all this David found, to his sorrow, that, though he now lived
+under the same roof with her, he was not so near her as at Font Abbey.
+There was a wall of etiquette and of rivals, and, as he now began to
+fear, of her own dislike between them. To read through that mighty
+transparent jewel, a female heart, Nauta had recourse--to what, do you
+think? To arithmetic. He set to work to count how many times she spoke
+to each of the party in the drawing-room, and he found that Mr. Hardie
+was at the head of the list, and he was at the bottom. That might be
+an accident; perhaps this was his black evening; so he counted her
+speeches the next evening. The result was the same. Droll statistics,
+but sad and convincing to the simple David. His spirits failed him;
+his aching heart turned cold. He withdrew from the gay circle, and sat
+sadly with a book of prints before him, and turned the leaves
+listlessly. In a pause of the conversation a sigh was heard in the
+corner. They all looked round, and saw David all by himself, turning
+over the leaves, but evidently not inspecting them.
+
+A sort of flash of satirical curiosity went from eye to eye.
+
+But tact abounded at one end of the room, if there was a dearth of it
+at the other.
+
+_La rusee sans le savoir_ made a sign to them all to take no
+notice; at the same time she whispered: "Going to sea in a few days
+for two years; the thought will return now and then." Having said this
+with a look at her aunt, that, Heaven knows how, gave the others the
+notion that it was to Mrs. Bazalgette she owed the solution of David's
+fit of sadness, she glided easily into indifferent topics. So then the
+others had a momentary feeling of pity for David. Miss Lucy noticed
+this out of the tail of her eye.
+
+That night David went to bed thoroughly wretched. He could not sleep,
+so he got up and paced the deck of his room with a heavy heart. At
+last, in his despair, he said, "I'll fire signals of distress." So he
+sat down and took a sheet of paper, and fired: "Nothing has turned as
+I expected. She treats me like a stranger. I seem to drop astern
+instead of making any way. Here are three of us, I do believe, and all
+seem preferred to your poor brother; and, indeed, the only thing that
+gives me any hope is that she seems too kind to be in earnest, for it
+is not in her angelic nature to be really unkind; and what have I
+done? Eve, dear, such a change from what she was at Font Abbey, and
+that happy evening when she came and drank tea with us, and lighted
+our little garden up, and won your heart, that was always a little set
+against her. Now it is so different that I sit and ask myself whether
+all that is not a dream. Can anyone change so in one short month? I
+could not. But who knows? perhaps I do her wrong. You know I never
+could read her at home without your help, and, dear Eve, I miss you
+now from my side most sadly. Without you I seem to be adrift, without
+rudder or compass."
+
+Then, as he could not sleep, he dressed himself, and went out at four
+o'clock in the morning. He roamed about with a heavy heart; at last he
+bethought him of his fiddle. Since Lucy's departure from Font Abbey
+this had been a great solace to him. It was at once a depository and
+vent to him; he poured out his heart to it and by it; sometimes he
+would fancy, while he played, that he was describing the beauties of
+her mind and person; at others, regretting the sad fate that separated
+him from her; or, hope reviving, would see her near him, and be
+telling her how he loved her; and, so great an inspirer is love, he
+had invented more than one clear melody during the last month, he who
+up to that time had been content to render the thoughts of others,
+like most fiddlers and composers.
+
+So he said to himself, "I had better not play in the house, or I shall
+wake them out of their first sleep."
+
+He brought out his violin, got among some trees near the stable-yard,
+and tried to soothe his sorrowful heart. He played sadly, sweetly and
+dreamingly. He bade the wooden shell tell all the world how lonely he
+was, only the magic shell told it so tenderly and tunefully that he
+soon ceased to be alone. The first arrival was on four legs: Pepper, a
+terrier with a taste for sounds. Pepper arrived cautiously, though in
+a state of profound curiosity, and, being too wise to trust at once to
+his ears, avenue of sense by which we are all so much oftener deceived
+than by any other, he first smelled the musician carefully and
+minutely all round. What he learned by this he and his Creator alone
+know, but apparently something reassuring; for, as soon as he had
+thoroughly snuffed his Orpheus, he took up a position exactly opposite
+him, sat up high on his tail, cocked his nose well into the air, and
+accompanied the violin with such vocal powers as Nature had bestowed
+on him. Nor did the sentiment lose anything, in intensity at all
+events, by the vocalist. If David's strains were plaintive, Pepper's
+were lugubrious; and what may seem extraordinary, so long as David
+played softly the Cerberus of the stableyard whined musically, and
+tolerably in tune; but when he played loud or fast poor Pepper got
+excited, and in his wild endeavors to equal the violin vented dismal
+and discordant howls at unpleasantly short intervals. All this
+attracted David's attention, and he soon found he could play upon
+Pepper as well as the fiddle, raising him and subduing him by turns;
+only, like the ocean, Pepper was not to be lulled back to his musical
+ripple quite so quickly as he could be lashed into howling frenzy.
+
+While David was thus playing, and Pepper showing a fearful broadside
+of ivory teeth, and flinging up his nose and sympathizing loudly and
+with a long face, though not perhaps so deeply as he looked, suddenly
+rang behind David a chorus of human chuckles. David wheeled, and there
+were six young women's faces set in the foliage and laughing merrily.
+Though perfectly aware that David would look round, they seemed taken
+quite by surprise when he did look, and with military precision became
+instantly two files, for the four impudent ones ran behind the two
+modest ones, and there, by an innocent instinct, tied their
+cap-strings, which were previously floating loose, their custom ever
+in the early morning.
+
+"Play us up something merry, sir," hazarded one of the mock-modest
+ones in the rear.
+
+"Shan't I be taking you from your work?" objected David dryly.
+
+"Oh, all work and no play is bad for the body," replied the minx,
+keeping ostentatiously out of sight.
+
+Good-natured David played a merry tune in spite of his heart; and even
+at that disadvantage it was so spirit-stirring compared with anything
+the servants had heard, it made them all frisky, of which disposition
+Tom, the stable boy, who just then came into the yard, took advantage,
+and, leading out one of the housemaids by the polite process of
+hauling at her with both hands, proceeded to country dancing, in which
+the others soon demurely joined.
+
+Now all this was wormwood to poor David; for to play merriment when
+the heart is too heavy to be cheered by it makes that heart bitter as
+well as sad. But the good-natured fellow said to himself: "Poor
+things, I dare say they work from morning till night, and seldom see
+pleasure but at a distance; why not put on a good face, and give them
+one merry hour." So he played horn-pipes and reels till all their
+hearts were on fire, and faces red, and eyes glittering, and legs
+aching, and he himself felt ready to burst out crying, and then he
+left off. As for _il penseroso_ Pepper, he took this intrusion of
+merry music upon his sympathies very ill. He left singing, and barked
+furiously and incessantly at these ancient English melodies and at the
+dancers, and kept running from and running at the women's whirling
+gowns alternately, and lost his mental balance, and at last, having by
+a happier snap than usual torn off two feet of the under-housemaid's
+frock, shook and worried the fragment with insane snarls and gleaming
+eyes, and so zealously that his existence seemed to depend on its
+annihilation.
+
+David gave those he had brightened a sad smile, and went hastily
+in-doors. He put his violin into its case, and sealed and directed his
+letter to Eve. He could not rest in-doors, so he roamed out again, but
+this time he took care to go on the lawn. Nobody would come there, he
+thought, to interrupt his melancholy. He was doomed to be disappointed
+in that respect. As he sat in the little summer-house with his head on
+the table, he suddenly heard an elastic step on the dry gravel. He
+started peevishly up and saw a lady walking briskly toward him: it was
+Miss Fountain.
+
+She saw him at the same instant. She hesitated a single half-moment;
+then, as escape was impossible, resumed her course. David went
+bashfully to meet her.
+
+"Good-morning, Mr. Dodd," said she, in the most easy, unembarrassed
+way imaginable.
+
+He stammered a "good-morning," and flushed with pleasure and
+confusion.
+
+He walked by her side in silence. She stole a look at him, and saw
+that, after the first blush at meeting her, he was pale and haggard.
+On this she dashed into singularly easy and cheerful conversation with
+him; told him that this morning walk was her custom--"My substitute
+for rouge, you know. I am always the first up in this languid house;
+but I must not boast before you, who, I dare say, turn out--is not
+that the word?--at daybreak. But, now I think of it, no! you would
+have crossed my hawse before, Mr. Dodd," using naval phrases to
+flatter him.
+
+"It was my ill-luck; I always cruised a mile off. I had no idea this
+bit of gravel was your quarter-deck."
+
+"It is, though, because it is always dry. You would not like a
+quarter-deck with that character, would you?"
+
+"Oh yes, I should. I'd have my bowsprit always wet, and my
+quarter-deck always dry. But it is no use wishing for what we cannot
+have."
+
+"That is very true," said Lucy, quietly.
+
+David reflected on his own words, and sighed deeply.
+
+This did not suit Lucy. She plied him with airy nothings, that no man
+can arrest and impress on paper; but the tone and smile made them
+pleasing, and then she asked his opinion of the other guests in such a
+way as implied she took some interest in his opinion of them, but
+mighty little in the people themselves. In short, she chatted with him
+like an old friend, and nothing more; but David was not subtle enough
+in general, nor just now calm enough, to see on what footing all this
+cordiality was offered him. His color came back, his eye brightened,
+happiness beamed on his face, and the lady saw it from under her
+lashes.
+
+"How fortunate I fell in with you here! You are yourself again--on
+your quarter-deck. I scarce knew you the last few days. I was afraid I
+had offended you. You seemed to avoid me."
+
+"Nonsense, Mr. Dodd; what is there about you to avoid?"
+
+"Plenty, Miss Fountain; I am so inferior to your other friends."
+
+"I was not aware of it, Mr. Dodd."
+
+"And I have heard your sex has gusts of caprice, and I thought the
+cold wind was blowing upon me; and that did seem very sad, just when I
+am going out, and perhaps shall never see your sweet face or hear your
+lovely voice again."
+
+"Don't say that, Mr. Dodd, or you will make me sad in earnest. Your
+prudence and courage, and a kind Providence, will carry you safe
+through this voyage, as they have through so many, and on your return
+the acquaintance you do me the honor to value so highly will await
+you--if it depends on me."
+
+All this was said kindly and beautifully, and almost tenderly, but
+still with a certain majesty that forbade love-making--rendered it
+scarce possible, except to a fool. But David was not captious. He
+could not, like the philosopher, sift sunshine. For some days he had
+been almost separated from her. Now she was by his side. He adored her
+so that he could no longer _realize_ sorrow or disappointment to
+come. They were uncertain--future. The light of her eyes, and voice,
+and face, and noble presence were here; he basked in them.
+
+He told her not to mind a word he had said. "It was all nonsense. I am
+happier now--happier than ever."
+
+At this Lucy looked grave and became silent.
+
+David, to amuse her, told her there was "a singing dog aboard," and
+would she like to hear him?
+
+This was a happy diversion for Lucy. She assented gayly. David ran for
+his fiddle, and then for Pepper. Pepper wagged his tail, but, strong
+as his musical taste was, would not follow the fiddle. But at this
+juncture Master Reginald dawned on the stable-yard with a huge slice
+of bread and butter. Pepper followed him. So the party came on the
+lawn and joined Lucy. Then David played on the violin, and Pepper
+performed exactly as hereinbefore related. Lucy laughed merrily, and
+Reginald shrieked with delight, for the vocal terrier was mortal
+droll.
+
+
+"But, setting Pepper aside, that is a very sweet air you are playing
+now, Mr. Dodd. It is full of soul and feeling."
+
+"Is it?" said David, looking wonderstruck; "you know best."
+
+"Who is the composer?"
+
+David looked confused and said, "No one of any note."
+
+Lucy shot a glance at him, keen as lightning. What with David's
+simplicity and her own remarkable talent for reading faces, his
+countenance was a book to her, wide open, Bible print. "The composer's
+name is Mr. Dodd," said she, quietly.
+
+"I little thought you would be satisfied with it," replied David,
+obliquely.
+
+"Then you doubted my judgment as well as your own talent."
+
+"My talent! I should never have composed an air that would bear
+playing but for one thing."
+
+"And what was that?" said Lucy, affecting vast curiosity. She felt
+herself on safe ground now--the fine arts.
+
+"You remember when you went away from Font Abbey, and left us all so
+heavy-hearted?"
+
+"I remember leaving Font Abbey," replied Lucy, with saucy emphasis,
+and an air of lofty disbelief in the other incident.
+
+"Well, I used to get my fiddle, and think of you so far away, and
+sweet sad airs came to my heart, and from my heart they passed into
+the fiddle. Now and then one seemed more worthy of you than the rest
+were, and then I kept that one."
+
+"You mean you took the notes down," said Lucy coldly.
+
+"Oh no, there was no need; I wrote it in my head and in my heart. May
+I play you another of your tunes? I call them your tunes."
+
+Lucy blushed faintly, and fixed her eyes on the ground. She gave a
+slight signal of assent, and David played a melody.
+
+"It is very beautiful," said she in a low voice. "Play it again. Can
+you play it as we walk?"
+
+"Oh yes." He played it again. They drew near the hall door. She looked
+up a moment, and then demurely down again.
+
+"Now will you be so good as to play the first one twice?" She listened
+with her eyelashes drooping. "Tweedle dee! tweedle dum! tweedle dee."
+"And _now_ we will go into breakfast," cried Lucy, with sudden
+airy cheerfulness, and, almost with the word, she darted up the steps,
+and entered the house without even looking to see whether David
+followed or what became of him.
+
+He stood gazing through the open door at her as she glided across the
+hall, swift and elastic, yet serpentine, and graceful and stately as
+Juno at nineteen.
+
+           "Et vera iucessu patuit lady."
+
+These Junones, severe in youthful beauty, fill us Davids with
+irrational awe; but, the next moment, they are treated like small
+children by the very first matron they meet; they resign their
+judgment at once to hers, and bow their wills to her lightest word
+with a slavish meanness.
+
+Creation's unmarried lords, realize your true position--girls govern
+you, and wives govern girls.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette, on Lucy's entrance, ran a critical eye over her, and
+scolded her like a six-year-old for walking in thin shoes.
+
+"Only on the gravel, aunt," said the divine slave, submissively.
+
+"No matter; it rained last night. I heard it patter. You want to be
+laid up, I suppose."
+
+"I will put on thicker ones in future, dear aunt," murmured the
+celestial serf.
+
+Now Mrs. Bazalgette did not really care a button whether the servile
+angel wore thick soles or thin. She was cross about something a mile
+off that. As soon as she had vented her ill humor on a sham cause, she
+could come to its real cause good-temperedly. "And, Lucy, love, do
+manage better about Mr. Dodd."
+
+Lucy turned scarlet. Luckily, Mrs. Bazalgette was evading her niece's
+eye, so did not see her telltale cheek.
+
+"He was quite thrown out last night; and really, as he does not ride
+with us, it is too bad to neglect him in-doors."
+
+"Oh, excuse me, aunt, Mr. Dodd is your protege. You did not even tell
+me you were going to invite him."
+
+"I beg your pardon, that I certainly did. Poor fellow, he was out of
+spirits last night."
+
+"Well, but, aunt, surely you can put an admirer in good spirits when
+you think proper," said Lucy slyly.
+
+"Humph! I don't want to attract too much attention. I see Bazalgette
+watching me, and I don't wish to be misinterpreted myself, or give my
+husband pain."
+
+She said this with such dignity that Lucy, who knew her regard for her
+husband, had much ado not to titter. But courtesy prevailed, and she
+said gravely: "I will do whatever you wish me, only give me a hint at
+the time; a look will do, you know."
+
+The ladies separated; they met again at the breakfast-room door.
+Laughter rang merrily inside, and among the gayest voices was Mr.
+Dodd's. Lucy gave Mrs. Bazalgette an arch look. "Your patient seems
+better;" and they entered the room, where, sure enough, they found Mr.
+Dodd the life and soul of the assembled party.
+
+"A letter from Mrs. Wilson, aunt."
+
+"And, pray, who is Mrs. Wilson?"
+
+"My nurse. She tells me 'it is five years since she has seen me, and
+she is wearying to see me.' What a droll expression, 'wearying.'"
+
+"Ah!" said David Dodd.
+
+"You have heard the word before, Mr. Dodd?"
+
+"No, I can't say I have; but I know what it must mean."
+
+"Lying becalmed at the equator, eh! Dodd?" said Bazalgette,
+misunderstanding him.
+
+"Mrs. Wilson tells me she has taken a farm a few miles from this."
+
+"Interesting intelligence," said Mrs. Bazalgette.
+
+"And she says she is coming over to see me one of these days, aunt,"
+said Lucy, with a droll expression, half arch, half rueful. She added
+timidly, "There is no objection to that, is there?"
+
+"None whatever, if she does not make a practice of it; only mind,
+these old servants are the greatest pests on earth."
+
+"I remember now," said Lucy thoughtfully, "Mrs. Wilson was always very
+fond of me. I cannot think why, though."
+
+"No more can I," said Mr. Hardie, dryly; "she must be a thoroughly
+unreasonable woman."
+
+Mr. Hardie said this with a good deal of grace and humor, and a laugh
+went round the table.
+
+"I mean she only saw me at intervals of several years."
+
+"Why, Lucy, what an antiquity you are making yourself," said Fountain.
+
+But Lucy was occupied with her puzzle. "She calls me her nursling,"
+said Lucy, _sotto voce,_ to her aunt, but, of course, quite
+audibly to the rest of the company; "her dear nursling;" and says,
+"she would walk fifty miles to see me. Nursling? hum! there is another
+word I never heard, and I do not exactly know--Then she says--"
+
+_"Taisez-vous, petite sotte!"_ said Mrs. Bazalgette, in a sharp
+whisper, so admirably projected that it was intelligible only to the
+ear it was meant for.
+
+Lucy caught it and stopped short, and sat looking by main force calm
+and dignified, but scarlet, and in secret agony. "I have said
+something amiss," thought Lucy, and was truly wretched.
+
+"We don't believe in Mrs. Wilson's affection on this side the table,"
+said Mr. Hardie; "but her revelations interest us, for they prove that
+Miss Fountain had a beginning. Now we had thought she rose from the
+foam like Venus, or sprung from Jove's brow like Minerva, or descended
+from some ancient pedestal, flawless as the Parian itself."
+
+"What, sir," cried Bazalgette, furiously, "did you think our niece was
+built in a day? So fair a structure, so accomplished a--"
+
+"Will you be quiet, good people?" said Mrs. Bazalgette. "She was born,
+she was bred, she was brought up, in which I had a share, and she is a
+very good girl, if you gentlemen will be so good as not to spoil her
+for me with your flattery."
+
+"There!" said Lucy, courageously, enforcing her aunt's thunderbolt;
+and she leaned toward Mrs. Bazalgette, and shot back a glance of
+defiance, with arching neck, at Mr. Bazalgette.
+
+
+After breakfast she ran to Mrs. Bazalgette. "What was it?"
+
+"Oh, nothing; only the gentlemen were beginning to grin."
+
+"Oh, dear! did I say anything--ridiculous?"
+
+"No, because I stopped you in time. Mind, Lucy, it is never safe to
+read letters out from people in that class of life; they talk about
+everything, and use words that are quite out of date. I stopped you
+because I know you are a simpleton, and so I could not tell what might
+pop out next."
+
+"Oh, thank you, aunt--thank you," cried Lucy, warmly. "Then I did not
+expose myself, after all."
+
+"No, no; you said nothing that might not be proclaimed at St. Paul's
+Cross--ha! ha!"
+
+"Am I a simpleton, aunt?" inquired Lucy, in the tone of an indifferent
+person seeking knowledge.
+
+"Not you," replied this oblivious lady. "You know a great deal more
+than most girls of your age. To be sure, girls that have been at a
+fashionable school generally manage to learn one or two things you
+have no idea of."
+
+"Naturally."
+
+"As you say--he! he! But you make up for it, my dear, in other
+respects. If the gentlemen take you for a pane of glass, why, all the
+better; meantime, shall I tell you your real character? I have only
+just discovered it myself."
+
+"Oh, yes, aunt, tell me my character. I should so like to hear it from
+you."
+
+"Should you?" said the other, a little satirically; "well, then, you
+are an INNOCENT FOX."
+
+"Aunt!"
+
+"An in-no-cent fox; so run and get your work-box. I want you to run up
+a tear in my flounce."
+
+Lucy went thoughtfully for her workbox, murmuring ruefully, "I am an
+innocent fox--I am an in-nocent fox."
+
+She did not like her new character at all; it mortified her, and
+seemed self-contradictory as well as derogatory.
+
+On her return she could not help remonstrating: "How can that be my
+character? A fox is cunning, and I despise cunning; and _I am
+sure_ I am not _innocent,"_ added she, putting up both hands
+and looking penitent. With all this, a shade of vexation was painted
+on her lovely cheeks as she appealed against her epigram.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette (with the calm, inexorable superiority of
+matron despotism). "You are an in-nocent fox!! Is your needle
+threaded? Here is the tear; no, not there. I caught against the
+flowerpot frame, and I'll swear I heard my gown go. Look lower down,
+dear. Don't give it up."
+
+All which may perhaps remind the learned and sneering reader of
+another fox--the one that "had a wound, and he could not tell where."
+
+
+They rode out to-day as usual, and David had the equivocal pleasure of
+seeing them go from the door.
+
+Lucy was one of the first down, and put her hand on the saddle, and
+looked carelessly round for somebody to put her up. David stepped
+hastily forward, his heart beating, seized her foot, never waited for
+her to spring, but went to work at once, and with a powerful and
+sustained effort raised her slowly and carefully like a dead weight,
+and settled her in the saddle. His gripe hurt her foot. She bore it
+like a Spartan sooner than lose the amusement of his simplicity and
+enormous strength, so drolly and unnecessarily exerted. It cost her a
+little struggle not to laugh right out, but she turned her head away
+from him a moment and was quit for a spasm. Then she came round with a
+face all candor.
+
+"Thank you, Mr. Dodd," said she, demurely; and her eyes danced in her
+head. Her foot felt encircled with an iron band, but she bore him not
+a grain of malice for that, and away she cantered, followed by his
+longing eyes.
+
+David bore the separation well. "To-morrow morning I shall have her
+all to myself," said he. He played with Kenealy and Reginald, and
+chatted with Bazalgette. In the evening she was surrounded as usual,
+and he obtained only a small share of her attention. But the thought
+of the morrow consoled him. He alone knew that she walked before
+breakfast.
+
+The next morning he rose early, and sauntered about till eight
+o'clock, and then he came on the lawn and waited for her. She did not
+come. He waited, and waited, and waited. She never came. His heart
+died within him. "She avoids me," said he; "it is not accident. I have
+driven her out of her very garden; she always walked here before
+breakfast (she said so) till I came and spoiled her walk; Heaven
+forgive me."
+
+David could not flatter himself that this interruption of her
+acknowledged habit was accidental. On the other hand, how kind and
+cheerful she had been with him on the same spot yesterday morning. To
+judge by her manner, his company on her quarter-deck was not unwelcome
+to her yet she kept her room to-day, from the window of which she
+could probably see him walking to and fro, longing for her. The bitter
+disappointment was bad enough, but here tormenting perplexity as to
+its cause was added, and between the two the pining heart was racked.
+
+This is the cruelest separation; mere distance is the mildest. Where
+land and sea alone lie between two loving hearts, they pine, but are
+at rest. A piece of paper, and a few lines traced by the hand that
+reads like a face, and the two sad hearts exult and embrace one
+another afresh, in spite of a hemisphere of dirt and salt water, that
+parts bodies but not minds. But to be close, yet kept aloof by red-hot
+iron and chilling ice, by rivals, by etiquette and cold
+indifference--to be near, yet far--this is to be apart--this, this is
+separation.
+
+A gush of rage and bitterness foreign to his natural temper came over
+Mr. Dodd. "Since I can't have the girl I love, I will have nobody but
+my own thoughts. I cannot bear the others and their chat to-day. I
+will go and think of her, since that is all she will let me do"; and
+directly after breakfast David walked out on the downs and made by
+instinct for the sea. The wounded deer shunned the lively herd.
+
+The ladies, as they sat in the drawing-room, received visits of a less
+flattering character than usual. Reginald kept popping in, inquiring,
+"Where was Mr. Dodd?" and would not believe they had not hid him
+somewhere. He was followed by Kenealy, who came in and put them but
+one question, "Where is Dawd?"
+
+"We don't know," said Mrs. Bazalgette sharply; "we have not been
+intrusted with the care of Mr. Dodd."
+
+Kenealy sauntered forth disconsolate. Finally Mr. Bazalgette put his
+head in, and surveyed the room keenly but in silence; so then his wife
+looked up, and asked him satirically if he did not want Mr. Dodd.
+
+"Of course I do," was the gracious reply; "what else should I come
+here for?"
+
+"Well, he is lost; you had better put him in the 'Hue and Cry.'"
+
+La Bazalgette was getting jealous of her own flirtee: he attracted too
+much of that attention she loved so dear.
+
+At last Reginald, despairing of Dodd, went in search of another
+playmate--Master Christmas, a young gentleman a year older than
+himself, who lived within half a mile. Before he went he inquired what
+there was for his dinner, and, being informed "roast mutton," was not
+enraptured; he then asked with greater solicitude what was the
+pudding, and, being told "rice," betrayed disgust and anger, as was
+remembered when too late.
+
+At two o'clock, the day being fine, the ladies went for a long ride,
+accompanied by Talboys only. Kenealy excused himself: "He must see if
+he could not find Dawd."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette started in a pet; but, after the first canter, she set
+herself to bewitch Mr. Talboys, just to keep her hand in; she
+flattered him up hill and down dale. Lucy was silent and
+_distraite._
+
+"From that hill you look right down upon the sea," said Mrs.
+Bazalgette; "what do you say? It is only two miles farther."
+
+On they cantered, and, leaving the high road, dived into a green lane
+which led them, by a gradual ascent, to Mariner's Folly on the summit
+of the cliff. Mariner's Folly looked at a distance like an enormous
+bush in the shape of a lion; but, when you came nearer, you saw it was
+three remarkably large blackthorn-trees planted together. As they
+approached it at a walk, Mrs. Bazalgette told Mr. Talboys its legend.
+
+"These trees were planted a hundred and fifty years ago by a retired
+buccaneer."
+
+"Aunt, now, it was only a lieutenant."
+
+"Be quiet, Lucy, and don't spoil me; I _call_ him a buccaneer.
+Some say it is named his "Folly," because, you must know, his ghost
+comes and sits here at times, and that is an absurd practice,
+shivering in the cold. Others more learned say it comes from a Latin
+word 'folio,' or some such thing, that means a leaf; the mariner's
+leafy screen." She then added with reckless levity, "I wonder whether
+we shall find Buckey on the other side, looking at the ships through a
+ghostly telescope--ha! ha!--ah! ah! help! mercy! forgive me! Oh, dear,
+it is only Mr. Dodd in his jacket--you frightened me so. Oh! oh!
+There--I am ill. Catch me, somebody;" and she dropped her whip, and,
+seeing David's eye was on her, subsided backward with considerable
+courage and trustfulness, and for the second time contrived to be in
+her flirtee's arms.
+
+I wish my friend Aristotle had been there; I think he would have been
+pleased at her [Greek] (presence of mind) in turning even her terror
+of the supernatural so quickly to account, and making it subservient
+to flirtation.
+
+
+David sat heart-stricken and hopeless, gazing at the sea. The hours
+passed by his heavy heart unheeded. The leafy screen deadened the
+light sound of the horses' feet on the turf, and, moreover, his senses
+were all turned inward. They were upon him, and he did not move, but
+still held his head in his hands and gazed upon the sea. At Mrs.
+Bazalgette's cries he started up, and looked confusedly at them all;
+but, when she did the feinting business, he thought she was going to
+faint, and caught her in his arms; and, holding her in them a moment
+as if she had been a child, he deposited her very gently in a sitting
+posture at the foot of one of the trees, and, taking her hand, slapped
+it to bring her to.
+
+"Oh, don't! you hurt me," cried the lady in her natural voice.
+
+Lucy, barbarous girl, never came to her aunt's assistance. At the
+first fright she seemed slightly agitated, but she now sat impassive
+on her pony, and even wore a satirical smile.
+
+"Now, dear aunt, when you have done, Mr. Dodd will put you on your
+horse again."
+
+On this hint David lifted her like a child, _malgre_ a little
+squeak she thought it well to utter, and put her in the saddle again.
+She thanked him in a low, murmuring voice. She then plied David with a
+host of questions. "How came he so far from home?" "Why had he
+deserted them all day?" David hung his head, and did not answer. Lucy
+came to his relief: "It would be as well if you would make him promise
+to be at home in time for dinner; and, by the way, I have a favor to
+ask of you, Mr. Dodd."
+
+"A favor to ask of me?!"
+
+"Oh, you know we all make demands upon your good-nature in turn."
+
+"That is true," said La Bazalgette, tenderly. "I don't know what will
+become of us all when he goes."
+
+Lucy then explained "that the masked ball suggested by Mr. Talboys'
+beautiful dresses was to be very soon, and she wanted Mr. Dodd to
+practice quadrilles and waltzes with her; it will be so much better
+with the violin and piano than with a piano alone, and you are such an
+excellent timist--will you, Mr. Dodd?"
+
+"That I will," said David, his eyes sparkling with delight; "thank
+you."
+
+"Then, as I shall practice before the gentlemen join us, and it is
+four o'clock now, had you not better turn your back on the sea, and
+make the best of your way home?"
+
+"I will be there almost as soon as you."
+
+"Indeed! what, on foot, and we on horseback?"
+
+"Ay; but I can steer in the wind's eye."
+
+"Aunt, Mr. Dodd proposes a race home."
+
+"With all my heart. How much start are we to give him?"
+
+"None at all," said David; "are you ready? Then give way," and he
+started down the hill at a killing pace.
+
+The equestrians were obliged to walk down the hill, and when they
+reached the bottom David was going as the crow flies across some
+meadows half a mile ahead. A good canter soon brought them on a line
+with him, but every now and then the turns of the road and the hills
+gave him an advantage. Lucy, naturally kind-hearted, would have
+relaxed her pace to make the race more equal, but Talboys urged her
+on; and as a horse is, after all, a faster animal than a sailor, they
+rode in at the front gate while David was still two fields off.
+
+"Come," said Mrs. Bazalgette, regretfully, "we have beat him, poor
+fellow, but we won't go in till we see what has become of him."
+
+As they loitered on the lawn, Henry the footman came out with a
+salver, and on it reposed a soiled note. Henry presented it with
+demure obsequiousness, then retired grinning furtively.
+
+"What is this--a begging-letter? What a vile hand! Look, Lucy; did you
+ever? Why, it must be some pauper."
+
+"Have a little mercy, aunt," said Lucy, piteously; "that hand has been
+formed under my care and daily superintendence: it is Reginald's."
+
+"Oh, that alters the case. What can the dear child have to say to me!
+Ah! the little wretch! Send the servants after him in every direction.
+Oh, who would be a mother!"
+
+The letter was written in lines with two pernicious defects. 1st. They
+were like the wooden part of a bow instead of its string. 2d. They
+yielded to gravity--kept tending down, down, to the righthand corner
+more and more. In the use of capitals the writer had taken the
+copyhead as his model. The style, however, was pithy, and in writing
+that is the first Christian grace--no, I forgot, it is the second;
+pellucidity is the first.
+
+     "Dear mama, me and johnny
+     Cristmas are gone to the north
+     Pole his unkle went twise we
+     Shall be back in siks munths
+     Please give my love to lucy and
+     Papa and ask lucy to be kind to
+     My ginnipigs i shall want them
+     Wen i come back. too much
+     Cabiges is not good for ginnipigs.
+     Wen i come back i hope there
+     Will be no rise left. it is very
+     Unjust to give me those nasty
+     Messy pudens i am not a child
+     There filthy there abbommanabel.
+     Johny says it is funy at the north
+     Pole and there are bares
+     and they
+     Are wite.
+     I remain
+
+                 "Your duteful son
+
+                 "Reginald George Bazalgette."
+
+
+This innocent missive set house and premises in an uproar. Henry was
+sent east through the dirt, _multa reluctantem,_ in white
+stockings. Tom galloped north. Mrs. Bazalgette sat in the hall, and
+did well-bred hysterics for Kenealy and Talboys. Lucy pinned up her
+habit, and ran to the boundary hedge on the bare chance of seeing the
+figures of the truants somewhere short of the horizon. Lo, and behold,
+there was David Dodd crossing the very nearest field and coming toward
+her, an urchin in each hand.
+
+Lucy ran to meet them. "Oh, you dear naughty children, what a fright
+you have given us! Oh, Mr. Dodd, how good of you! Where _did_ you
+find them?"
+
+"Under that hedge, eating apples. They tell me they sailed for the
+North Pole this morning, but fell in with a pirate close under the
+land, so 'bout ship and came ashore again."
+
+"A pirate, Mr. Dodd? Oh, I see, a beggar--a tramp."
+
+"A deal worse than that, Miss Lucy. Now, youngster, why don't you spin
+your own yarn?"
+
+"Yes, tell me, Reggy."
+
+"Well, dear, when I had written to mamma, and Johnny had folded
+it--because I can write but I can't fold it, and he can fold it but he
+can't write it--we went to the North Pole, and we got a mile; and then
+we saw that nasty Newfoundland dog sitting in the road waiting to
+torment us. It is Farmer Johnson's, and it plays with us, and knocks
+us down, and licks us, and frightens us, and we hate it; so we came
+home."
+
+"Ha! ha! good, prudent children. Oh, dear, you have had no dinner."
+
+"Oh, yes we had, Lucy, such a nice one: we bought such a lot of apples
+of a woman. I never had a dinner all apples before; they always spoil
+them with mutton and things, and that nasty, nasty rice"
+
+"Hear to that!" shouted David Dodd. "They have been dining upon
+varjese" (verjuice), "and them growing children. I shall take them
+into the kitchen, and put some cold beef into their little holds this
+minute, poor little lambs."
+
+"Oh yes, do; and I will run and tell the good news." She ran across
+the lawn, and came into the hall red with innocent happiness and
+agitation. "They are found, aunt, they are found; don't cry. Mr. Dodd
+found them close by, They have had no dinner, so that good, kind Mr.
+Dodd is taking them into the kitchen. I will send Master Christmas
+home with a servant. Shall I bring you Reggy to kiss?"
+
+"No, no; wicked little wretch, to frighten his poor mother! Whip him,
+somebody, and put him to bed."
+
+
+In the evening, soon after the ladies had left the dining-room, the
+pianoforte was heard playing quadrilles in the drawing-room. David
+fidgeted on his seat a little, and presently rose and went for his
+violin, and joined Lucy in the drawing-room alone. Mrs. B. was trying
+on a dress. Between the tunes Lucy chatted with him as freely and
+kindly as ever. David was in heaven. When the gentlemen came up from
+the dining-room, his joy was interrupted, but not for long. The two
+musicians played with so much spirit, and the fiddle, in particular,
+was so hearty, that Mrs. Bazalgette proposed a little quiet dance on
+the carpet: and this drew the other men away from the piano, and left
+David and Lucy to themselves.
+
+She stole a look more than once at his bright eyes and rich ruddy
+color, and asked herself, "Is that really the same face we found
+looking wan and haggard on the sea? I think I have put an end to that,
+at all events." The consciousness of this sort of power is secretly
+agreeable to all men and all women, whether they mean to abuse it or
+no. She smiled demurely at her mastery over this great heart, and said
+to herself, "One would think I was a witch." Later in the evening she
+eyed him again, and thought to herself, "If my company and a few
+friendly words can make him so happy, it does seem very hard I should
+select him to shun for the few days he has to pass in England now; but
+then, if I let him think--I don't know what to do with him. Poor Mr.
+Dodd."
+
+Miss Fountain did not torment her bolder aspirants with alternate
+distance and familiarity. She rode out every fine day with Mr.
+Talboys, and was all affability. She sat next Mr. Hardie at dinner,
+and was all affability.
+
+Narrative has its limits and, to relate in some sequence the honest
+sailor's tortures in love with a tactician, I have necessarily omitted
+concurrent incidents of a still tamer character; but the reader may,
+by the help of his own intelligence, gather their general results from
+the following dialogues, which took place on the afternoon and evening
+of the terrible infant's escapade.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette. "'Well, my dear friend, and how does this
+naughty girl of mine use you?"
+
+Mr. Hardie. "As well as I could expect, and better than I
+deserve."
+
+Mrs. B. "Then she must be cleverer than any girl that ever
+breathed. However, she does appreciate your conversation; she makes no
+secret of it."
+
+Mr. H. "I have so little reason to complain of my reception
+that I will make my proposal to her this evening if you think proper."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette started, and glanced admiration on a man of eight
+thousand a year, who came to the point of points without being either
+cajoled or spurred thither; but she shook her head. "Prudence, my dear
+Mr. Hardie, prudence. Not just yet. You are making advances every day;
+and Lucy is an odd girl; with all her apparent tenderness, she is
+unimpressionable."
+
+"That is only virgin modesty," said Hardie, dogmatically.
+
+"Fiddlestick," replied Mrs. B., good-humoredly. "The greatest flirts I
+ever met with were virgins, as you call them. I tell you she is not
+disposed toward marriage as all other girls are until they have tasted
+its bitters."
+
+Mr. H. "If I know anything of character, she will make a very
+loving wife."
+
+Mrs. B. (sharply). "That means a nice little negro. Well, I
+think she might, when once caught; but she is not caught, and she is
+slippery, and, if you are in too great a hurry, she may fly off; but,
+above all, we have a dangerous rival in the house just now."
+
+Mr. H. "What, that Mr. Talboys? I don't fear him. He is next
+door to a fool."
+
+Mrs. B. "What of that? Fools are dangerous rivals for a lady's
+favor. We don't object to fools. It depends on the employment. There
+is one office we are apt to select them for."
+
+Mr. H. "A husband, eh?" The lady nodded.
+
+Mrs. B. "I meant to marry a fool in Bazalgette, but I found my
+mistake. The wretch had only feigned absurdity. He came out in his
+true colors directly."
+
+Mr. H. "A man of sense, eh? The sinister hypocrite! He only
+wore the caps and bells to allure unguarded beauty, and doffed them
+when he donned the wedding-suit."
+
+Mrs. B. "Yes. But these are reminiscences so sweet that I shall
+be glad to return from them to your little affair. Seriously, then,
+Mr. Talboys is not to be overlooked, for this reason: he is well
+backed."
+
+"By whom?"
+
+"By some one who has influence with Lucy--her nearest relation, Mr.
+Fountain."
+
+"What! is he nearer to her than you are?"
+
+"Certainly; and she is fond of him to infatuation. One day I did but
+hint that selfishness entered into his character (he is eaten up with
+it), and that he told fibs; Mr. Hardie, she turned round on me like a
+tigress--Oh, how she made me cry!"
+
+The keen hand, Hardie, smiled satirically, and after a pause answered
+with consummate coolness: "I believe thus much, that she loves her
+uncle, and that his influence, exerted unscrupulously--"
+
+"Which it will be. He may be strong enough to spoil us, even though
+he should not be able to carry his own point; now trust me, my dear
+friend, Lucy's preference is clearly for you, but I know the weakness
+of my own sex, and, above all, I know Lucy Fountain. A mouse can help
+a lion in a matter of small threads, too small for his nobler and
+grander wisdom to see. Let me be your mouse for once." The little
+woman caught the great man with the everlasting hook, and the
+discussion ended in "claw me and I will claw thee," and in the mutual
+self-complacency that follows that arrangement. _Vide_ "Blackwood,"
+_passim._
+
+Mr. H. "I really think she would accept me if I offered to-day;
+but I have so high an opinion of your sagacity and friendship for me,
+madam, that I will defer my judgment to yours. I must, however, make
+one condition, that you will not displace my plan without suggesting a
+distinct course of action for me to adopt in its place."
+
+This smooth proposal, made quietly but with twinkling eye, would have
+shut the mouth of nine advisers in ten, but it found the Bazalgette
+prepared.
+
+"Oh, the pleasure of having a man of ability to deal with!" cried she,
+with enthusiasm. "This is my advice, then: stay Mr. Fountain out. He
+must go in a day or two. His time is up, and I will drop a hint of
+fresh visitors expected. When he is gone, warm by degrees, and offer
+yourself either in person, or through Bazalgette, or me."
+
+"In person, then, certainly. Of all foibles, employing another pair of
+eyes, another tongue, another person to make love for one is surely
+the silliest."
+
+"I am quite of your opinion," cried the lady, with a hearty laugh.
+
+
+Mr. Fountain. "So you are satisfied with the state of things?"
+
+Mr. Talboys. "Yes, I think I have beaten the sailor out of the
+field."
+
+"Well, but--this Hardie?"
+
+"Hardie! a shopkeeper. I don't fear him."
+
+"In that case, why not propose? I have been doing the
+preliminaries--sounding your praises."
+
+Mr. Talboys (tyrannically). "I propose next Saturday."
+
+Mr. Fountain. "Very well."
+
+Talboys. "In the boat."
+
+"In the boat? What boat? There's no boat."
+
+"I have asked her to sail with me from ---- in a boat; there is a very
+nice little lugger-rigged one. I am having the seats padded and
+stuffed and lined, and an awning put up, and the boat painted white
+and gold."
+
+"Bravo! Cleopatra's galley."
+
+"I assure you she looks forward to it with pleasure; she guesses why I
+want to get her into that boat. She hesitated at first, but at last
+consented with a look--a conscious look; I can hardly describe it."
+
+"There is no need," cried Fountain. "I know it; the jade turned all
+eyelashes."
+
+"That is rather exaggerated, but still--"
+
+"But still I have described it--to a hair. Ha! ha!"
+
+Talboys (gravely). "Well, yes."
+
+Mr. Talboys, I am bound to own, was accurate. During the last day or
+two Lucy had taken a turn; she had been bewitching; she had flattered
+him with tact, but deliciously; had consulted him as to which of his
+beautiful dresses she should wear at the masked ball, and, when
+pressed to have a sail in the boat he was fitting for her, she ended
+by giving a demure assent.
+
+Chorus of male readers, _"Oh, les femmes, les femmes!"_
+
+
+David Dodd had by nature a healthy as well as a high mind; but the
+fever and ague of an absorbing passion were telling on it. Like many a
+great heart before his day, his heart was tossed like a ship, and went
+up to heaven, and down again to despair, as a girl's humor shifted, or
+seemed to shift, for he forgot that there is such a thing as accident,
+and that her sex are even more under its dominion than ours. No;
+whatever she did must be spontaneous, voluntary, premeditated even,
+and her lightest word worth weighing, her lightest action worth
+anxious scrutiny as to its cause.
+
+Still he had this about him that the peevish and puny lover has not.
+Her bare presence was joy to him. Even when she was surrounded by
+other figures, he saw and felt but the one; the rest were nothings.
+But when she went out of his sight, some bright illusion seemed to
+fade into cold and dark reality. Then it fell on him like a weighty,
+icy hammer, that in three days he must go to sea for two years, and
+that he was no nearer her heart now than he was at Font Abbey. Was he
+even as near?
+
+So the next afternoon he thrust in before Talboys, and put Lucy on her
+horse by brute force, and griped her stout little boot, which she had
+slyly substituted for a shoe, and touched her glossy habit, and felt a
+thrill of bliss unspeakable at his momentary contact with her; but she
+was no sooner out of sight than a hollow ache seized the poor fellow,
+and he hung his head and sighed.
+
+"I say, capting," said a voice in his ear. He looked up, and there
+stood Tom, the stable-boy, with both hands in his pockets. Tom was not
+there by his own proper movement, but was agent of Betsy, the
+under-housemaid.
+
+Female servants scan the male guests pretty closely too,
+without seeming to do it, and judge them upon lamentably broad
+principles--youth, health, size, beauty, and good temper. Oh, the
+coarse-minded critics! Hence it befell that in their eyes, especially
+after the fiddle business, David was a king compared with his rivals.
+
+"If I look at him too long, I shall eat him," said the cook-maid.
+
+"He is a darling," said the upper housemaid.
+
+Betsy aforesaid often opened a window to have a sly look at him, and
+on one of these occasions she inspected him from an upper story at her
+leisure. His manner drew her attention. She saw him mount Lucy, and
+eye her departing form sadly and wistfully. Betsy glowered and
+glowered, and hit the nail on the head, as people will do who are so
+absurd as to look with their own eyes, and draw their own conclusions
+instead of other people's. After this she took an opportunity, and
+said to Tom, with a satirical air, "How are you off for nags, your
+way?"
+
+"Oh, we have got enough for our corn," replied Tom, on the defensive.
+
+"It seems you can't find one for the captain among you."
+
+"Will you give a kiss if I make you out a liar?"
+
+"Sooner than break my arm. Come, you might, Tom. Now is it reasonable,
+him never to get a ride with her, and that useless lot prancing about
+with her all day long?"
+
+
+"Why don't you ride with 'em, capting?"
+
+"I have no horse."
+
+"I have got a horse for you, sir--master's."
+
+"That would be taking a liberty."
+
+"Liberty, sir! no; master would be so pleased if you would but ride
+him. He told me so."
+
+"Then saddle him, pray."
+
+"I have a-saddled him. You had better come in the stable-yard,
+capting; then you can mount and follow; you will catch them before
+they reach the Downs." In another minute David was mounted.
+
+"Do you ride short or long, capting?" inquired Tom, handling the
+stirrup-leather.
+
+David wore a puzzled look. "I ride as long as I can stick on;" and he
+trotted out of the stable-yard. As Tom had predicted, he caught the
+party just as they went off the turn-pike on to the grass. His heart
+beat with joy; he cantered in among them. His horse was fresh,
+squeaked, and bucked at finding himself on grass and in company, and
+David announced his arrival by rolling in among their horses' feet
+with the reins tight grasped in his fist. The ladies screamed with
+terror. David got up laughing; his horse had hoped to canter away
+without him, and now stood facing him and pulling.
+
+"No, ye don't," said David. "I held on to the tiller-ropes though I
+did go overboard." Then ensued a battle between David and his horse,
+the one wanting to mount, the other anxious to be unencumbered with
+sailors. It was settled by David making a vault and sitting on the
+animal's neck, on which the ladies screamed again, and Lucy, half
+whimpering, proposed to go home.
+
+"Don't think of it," cried David. "I won't be beat by such a small
+craft as this--hallo!" for, the horse backing into Talboys, that
+gentleman gave him a clandestine cut, and he bolted, and, being a
+little hard-mouthed, would gallop in spite of the tiller-ropes. On
+came the other nags after him, all misbehaving more or less, so fine a
+thing is example. When they had galloped half a mile the ground began
+to rise, and David's horse relaxed his pace, whereon David whipped him
+industriously, and made him gallop again in spite of remonstrance.
+
+The others drew the rein, and left him to gallop alone. Accordingly,
+he made the round of the hill and came back, his horse covered with
+lather and its tail trembling. "There," said he to Lucy, with an air
+of radiant self-satisfaction, "he clapped on sail without orders from
+quarter-deck, so I made him carry it till his bows were under water."
+
+"You will kill my uncle's horse," was the reply, in a chilling tone.
+
+"Heaven forbid!"
+
+"Look at its poor flank beating."
+
+David hung his head like a school-girl rebuked. "But why did he clap
+on sail if he could not carry it?" inquired he, ruefully, of his
+monitress.
+
+The others burst out laughing; but Lucy remained grave and silent.
+
+David rode along crestfallen.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette brought her pony close to him, and whispered, "Never
+mind that little cross-patch. _She_ does not care a pin about the
+_horse;_ you interrupted her flirtation, that is all."
+
+This piece of consolation soothed David like a bunch of
+stinging-nettles.
+
+While Mrs. Bazalgette was consoling David with thorns, Kenealy and
+Talboys were quizzing his figure on horseback.
+
+He sat bent like a bow and visibly sticking on: _item,_ he had no
+straps, and his trousers rucked up half-way to his knee.
+
+Lucy's attention being slyly drawn to these phenomena by David's
+friend Talboys, she smiled politely, though somewhat constrainedly;
+but the gentlemen found it a source of infinite amusement during the
+whole ride, which, by the way, was not a very long one, for Miss
+Fountain soon expressed a wish to turn homeward. David felt guilty, he
+scarce knew why.
+
+The promised happiness was wormwood. On dismounting, she went to the
+lawn to tend her flowers. David followed her, and said bitterly, "I am
+sorry I came to spoil your pleasure."
+
+Miss Fountain made no answer.
+
+"I thought I might have one ride with you, when others have so many."
+
+"Why, of course, Mr. Dodd. If you like to expose yourself to ridicule,
+it is no affair of mine." The lady's manner was a happy mixture of
+frigidity and crossness. David stood benumbed, and Lucy, having
+emptied her flower-pot, glided indoors without taking any farther
+notice of him.
+
+David stood rooted to the spot. Then he gave a heavy sigh, and went
+and leaned against one of the pillars of the portico, and everything
+seemed to swim before his eyes.
+
+Presently he heard a female voice inquire, "Is Miss Lucy at home?" He
+looked, and there was a tall, strapping woman in conference with
+Henry. She had on a large bonnet with flaunting ribbons, and a bushy
+cap infuriated by red flowers. Henry's eye fell upon these
+embellishments: "Not at home," chanted he, sonorously.
+
+"Eh, dear," said the woman sadly, "I have come a long way to see her."
+
+"Not at home, ma'am," repeated Henry, like a vocal machine.
+
+"My name is Wilson, young man," said she, persuasively, and the
+Amazon's voice was mellow and womanly, spite of her coal-scuttle full
+of field poppies. "I am her nurse, and I have not seen her this five
+years come Martinmas;" and the Amazon gave a gentle sigh of
+disappointment.
+
+"Not at home, ma'am!" rang the inexorable Plush.
+
+But David's good heart took the woman's part. "She is at home, now,"
+said he, coming forward. "I saw her go into the house scarce a minute
+ago."
+
+"Oh, thank you, sir," said Mrs. Wilson. But Mr. Plush's face was
+instantly puckered all over with signals, which David not
+comprehending, he said, "Can I say a word with you, sir?" and, drawing
+him on one side, objected, in an injured and piteous tone. "We are not
+at home to such gallimaufry as that; it is as much as my place is
+worth to denounce that there bonnet to our ladies."
+
+"Bonnet be d--d," roared David, aloud. "It is her old nurse. Come,
+heave ahead;" and he pointed up the stairs.
+
+"Anything to oblige you, captain," said Henry, and sauntered into the
+drawing-room; "Mrs. Wilson, ma'am, for Miss Fountain."
+
+"Very well; my niece will be here directly."
+
+Lucy had just gone to her own room for some working materials.
+
+"You had better come to an anchor on this seat, Mrs. Wilson," said
+David.
+
+"Thank ye kindly, young gentleman," said Mrs. Wilson; and she settled
+her stately figure on the seat. "I have walked a many miles to-day,
+along of our horse being lame, and I am a little tired. You are one of
+the family, I do suppose?"
+
+"No, I am only a visitor."
+
+"Ain't ye now? Well, thank ye kindly, all the same. I have seen a
+worse face than yours, I can tell you," added she; for in the midst of
+it all she had found time to read countenances _more mulierurn._
+
+"And I have seen a good many hundred worse than yours, Mrs. Wilson."
+
+Mrs. Wilson laughed. "Twenty years ago, if you had said so, I might
+have believed you, or even ten; but, bless you, I am an old woman now,
+and can say what I choose to the men. Forty-two next Candlemas."
+
+In the country they call themselves old at forty-two, because they
+feel young. In town they call themselves young at forty-two, because
+they feel old.
+
+David found that he had fallen in with a gossip; and, being in no
+humor for vague chat, he left Mrs. Wilson to herself, with an
+assurance that Miss Fountain would be down to her directly.
+
+In leaving her he went into worse company--his own thoughts; they were
+inexpressibly sad and bitter. "She hates me, then," said he.
+"Everybody is welcome to her at all hours, except me. That lady said
+it was because I interrupted her flirtation. Aha! well, I shan't
+interrupt her flirtation much longer. I shan't be in her way or
+anybody's long. A few short hours, and this bitter day will be
+forgotten, and nothing left me but the memory of the kindness she had
+for me once, or seemed to have, and the angel face I must carry in my
+heart wherever I go, by land or sea. The sea? would to God I was upon
+it this minute! I'd rather be at sea than ashore in the dirtiest night
+that ever blew."
+
+He had been walking to and fro a good half-hour, deeply dejected and
+turning bitter, when, looking in accidentally at the hall door, he
+caught sight of Mrs. Wilson sitting all alone where he had left her.
+"Why, what on earth is the meaning of that?" thought he; and he went
+into the hall and asked Mrs. Wilson how she came to be there all
+alone.
+
+"That is what I have been asking myself a while past," was the dry
+reply.
+
+"Have you not seen her?"
+
+"No, sir, I have not seen her, and, to my mind, it is doubtful whether
+I am to see her."
+
+"But I say you shall see her."
+
+"No, no, don't put yourself out, sir," said the woman, carelessly; "I
+dare say I shall have better luck next time, if I should ever come to
+this house again, which it is not very likely." She added gently,
+"Young folk are thoughtless; we must not judge them too hardly."
+
+"Thoughtless they may be, but they have no business to be heartless. I
+have a great mind to go up and fetch her down."
+
+"Don't ye trouble, sir. It is not worth while putting you about for an
+old woman like me." Then suddenly dropping the mask of nonchalance
+which women of this class often put on to hide their sensibility, she
+said, very, very gravely, and with a sad dignity, that one would not
+have expected from her gossip and her finery, "I begin to fear, sir,
+that the child I have suckled does not care to know me now she is a
+woman grown."
+
+David dashed up the stairs with a red streak on his brow. He burst
+into the drawing-room, and there sat Mrs. Bazalgette overlooking, and
+Lucy working with a face of beautiful calm. She looked just then so
+very like a pure, tranquil Madonna making an altar-cloth, or
+something, that David's intention to give her a scolding was withered
+in the bud, and he gazed at her surprised and irresolute, and said not
+a word.
+
+"Anything the matter?" inquired Mrs. Bazalgette, attracted by the
+bruskness of his entry.
+
+"Yes, there is," said David sternly.
+
+Lucy looked up.
+
+"Miss Fountain's old nurse has been sitting in the hall more than half
+an hour, and nobody has had the politeness to go near her."
+
+"Oh, is that all? Well, don't look daggers at me. There is Lucy; give
+her a lesson in good-breeding, Mr. Dodd." This was said a little
+satirically, and rather nettled David.
+
+"Perhaps it does not become me to set up for a teacher of that. I know
+my own deficiencies as well as anybody in this house knows them; but
+this I know, that, if an old friend walked eight miles to see me, it
+would not be good-breeding in me to refuse to walk eight yards to see
+her. And, another thing, everybody's time is worth something; if I did
+not mean to see her, I would have that much consideration to send down
+and tell her so, and not keep the woman wasting her time as well as
+her trouble, and vexing her heart into the bargain."
+
+"Where is she, Mr. Dodd?" asked Lucy quickly.
+
+"Where is she?" cried David, getting louder and louder. "Why, she is
+cooling her heels in the hall this half hour and more. They hadn't the
+manners to show her into a room."
+
+"I will go to her, Mr. Dodd," said Lucy, turning a little pale. "Don't
+be angry; I will go directly"; and, having said this with an abject
+slavishness that formed a miraculous contrast with her late crossness
+and imperious chilliness, she put down her work hastily and went out;
+only at the door she curved her throat, and cast back, Parthian-like,
+a glance of timid reproach, as much as to say, "Need you have been so
+very harsh with a creature so obedient as this is?"
+
+That deprecating glance did Mr. Dodd's business. It shot him with
+remorse, and made him feel a brute.
+
+"Ha! ha! That is the way to speak to her, Mr. Dodd; the other
+gentlemen spoil her."
+
+"It was very unbecoming of me to speak to her harshly like that."
+
+"Pooh! nonsense; these girls like to be ordered about; it saves them
+the trouble of thinking for themselves; but what is to become of me?
+You have sent off my workwoman."
+
+"I will do her work for her."
+
+"What! can you sew?"
+
+"Where is the sailor that can't sew?"
+
+"Delightful! Then please to sew these two thick ends together. Here is
+a large needle."
+
+David whipped out of his pocket a round piece of leather with strings
+attached, and fastened it to the hollow of his hand.
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"It is a sailor's thimble." He took the work, held it neatly, and
+shoved the needle from behind through the thick material. He worked
+slowly and uncouthly, but with the precision that was a part of his
+character, and made exact and strong stitches. His task-mistress
+looked on, and, under the pretense of minute inspection, brought a
+face that was still arch and pretty unnecessarily close to the marine
+milliner, in which attitude they were surprised by Mr. Bazalgette,
+who, having come in through the open folding-doors, stood looking
+mighty sardonic at them both before they were even aware he was in the
+room.
+
+Omphale colored faintly, but Hercules gave a cool nod to the newcomer,
+and stitched on with characteristic zeal and strict attention to the
+matter in hand.
+
+At this Bazalgette uttered a sort of chuckle, at which Mrs. Bazalgette
+turned red. David stitched on for the bare life.
+
+"I came to offer to invite you to my study, but--"
+
+"I can't come just now," said David, bluntly; "I am doing a lady's
+work for her."
+
+"So I see," retorted Bazalgette, dryly.
+
+"We all dine with the Hunts but you and Mr. Dodd," said Mrs.
+Bazalgette, "so you will be _en tete-a-tete_ all the evening."
+
+"All the better for us both." And with this ingratiating remark Mr.
+Bazalgette retired whistling.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette heaved a gentle sigh: "Pity me, my friend," said she,
+softly.
+
+"What is the matter?" inquired David, rather bluntly.
+
+"Mr. Bazalgette is so harsh to me--ah!--to me, who longs so for
+kindness and gentleness that I feel I could give my very soul in
+exchange for them."
+
+The bait did not take.
+
+"It is only his manner," said David, good-naturedly. "His heart is all
+right; I never met a better. What sort of a knot is that you are
+tying? Why, that is a granny's knot;" and he looked morose, at which
+she looked amazed; so he softened, and explained to her with
+benevolence the rationale of a knot. "A knot is a fastening intended
+to be undone again by fingers, and not to come undone without them.
+Accordingly, a knot is no knot at all if it jams or if it slips. A
+granny's knot does both; when you want to untie it you must pick at it
+like taking a nail out of a board, and, for all that, sooner or later
+it always comes undone of itself; now you look here;" and he took a
+piece of string out of his pocket, and tied her a sailor's knot,
+bidding her observe that she could untie it at once, but it could
+never come untied of itself. He showed her with this piece of string
+half a dozen such knots, none of which could either jam or slip.
+
+"Tie me a lover's knot," suggested the lady, in a whisper.
+
+"Ay! ay!" and he tied her a lover's knot as imperturbably as he had
+the reef knot, bowling-knot, fisherman's bend, etc.
+
+"This is very interesting," said Mrs. Bazalgette, ironically. She
+thought David might employ a tete-a-tete with a flirt better than
+this. "What a time Lucy is gone!"
+
+"All the better."
+
+"Why?" and she looked down in mock confusion.
+
+"Because poor Mrs. Wilson will be glad."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette was piqued at this unexpected answer. "You seem quite
+captivated with this Mrs. Wilson; it was for her sake you took Lucy to
+task. Apropos, you need not have scolded her, for she did not know the
+woman was in the house."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean Lucy was not in the room when Mrs. Wilson was announced. I
+was, but I did not tell her; the all-important circumstance had
+escaped my memory. Where are you running to now?"
+
+"Where? why, to ask her pardon, to be sure."
+
+Mrs. B. [Brute!]
+
+David ran down the stairs to look for Lucy, but he found somebody else
+instead--his sister Eve, whom the servant had that moment admitted
+into the hall. It was "Oh, Eve!" and "Oh, David!" directly, and an
+affectionate embrace.
+
+"You got my letter, David?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, then you will before long. I wrote to tell you to look out for
+me; I had better have brought the letter in my pocket. I didn't know I
+was coming till just an hour before I started. Mother insisted on my
+going to see the last of you. Cousin Mary had invited me to ----, so I
+shall see you off, Davy dear, after all. I thought I'd just pop in and
+let you know I was in the neighborhood. Mary and her husband are
+outside the gate in their four-wheel. I would not let them drive in,
+because I want to hear your story, and they would have bothered us."
+
+"Eve, dear, I have no good news for you. Your words have come true. I
+have been perplexed, up and down, hot and cold, till I feel sometimes
+like going mad. Eve, I cannot fathom her. She is deeper than the
+ocean, and more changeable. What am I saying? the sea and the wind;
+they are to be read; they have their signs and their warnings; but
+she--"
+
+"There! there! that is the old song. I tell you it is only a girl--a
+creature as shallow as a puddle, and as easy to fathom, as you call
+it, only men are so stupid, especially boys. Now just you tell me all
+she has said, all she has done, and all she has looked, and I will
+turn her inside out like a glove in a minute."
+
+Cheered by this audacious pledge, David pumped upon Eve all that has
+trickled on my readers, and some minor details besides, and repeated
+Lucy's every word, sweet or bitter, and recalled her lightest
+action--_Meminerunt omnia amantes_--and every now and then he
+looked sadly into Eve's keen little face for his doom.
+
+She heard him in silence until the last fatal incident, Lucy's
+severity on the lawn. Then she put in a question. "Were those her
+exact words?"
+
+"Do I ever forget a syllable she says to me?"
+
+"Don't be angry. I forgot what a ninny she has made of you. Well,
+David, it is all as plain as my hand. The girl likes you--that is
+all."
+
+"The girl likes me? What do you mean? How can you say that? What sign
+of liking is there?"
+
+"There are two. She avoids you, and she has been rude to you."
+
+"And those are signs of liking, are they?" said David, bitterly.
+
+"Why, of course they are, stupid. Tell me, now, does she shun this
+Captain Keely?"
+
+"Kenealy. No."
+
+"Does she shun Mr. Harvey?"
+
+"Hardie. No."
+
+"Does she shun Mr. Talboys?"
+
+"Oh Eve, you break my heart--no! no! She shuns no one but poor David."
+
+"Now think a little. Here are three on one sort of footing, and one on
+a different footing; which is likeliest to be _the man,_ the one
+or the three? You have gained a point since we were all together. She
+_distinguishes_ you."
+
+"But what a way to distinguish me. It looks more like hatred than
+love, or liking either."
+
+"Not to my eye. Why should she shun you? You are handsome, you are
+good-tempered, and good company. Why should she be shy of you? She is
+afraid of you, that is why; and why is she afraid of you? because she
+is afraid of her own heart. That is how I read her. Then, as for her
+snubbing you, if her character was like mine, that ought to go for
+nothing, for I snub all the world; but this is a little queen for
+politeness. I can't think she would go so far out of her way as to
+affront anybody unless she had an uncommon respect for him."
+
+"Listen to that, now! I am on my beam-ends."
+
+"Now think a minute, David," said Eve, calmly, ignoring his late
+observation; "did you ever know her snub anybody?"
+
+"Never. Did you?"
+
+"No; and she never would, unless she took an uncommon interest in the
+person. When a girl likes a man, she thinks she has a right to ill-use
+him a little bit; he has got her affection to set against a scratch or
+two; the others have not. So she has not the same right to scratch
+them. La! listen to me teaching him A B C. Why, David, you know
+nothing; it's scandalous."
+
+Eve's confidence communicated itself at last to David; but when he
+asked her whether she thought Lucy would consent to be his wife, her
+countenance fell in her turn. "That is a very different thing. I am
+pretty sure she likes you; how could she help it? but I doubt she will
+never go to the altar with you. Don't be angry with me, Davy, dear.
+You are in love with her, and to you she is an angel. But I am of her
+own sex, and see her as she is; no matter who she likes, she will
+never be content to make a bad match, as they call it. She told me so
+once with her own lips. But she had no need to tell me; worldliness is
+written on her. David, David, you don't know these great houses, nor
+the fair-spoken creatures that live in them, with tongues tuned to
+sentiment, and mild eyes fixed on the main chance. Their drawing-rooms
+are carpeted market-places; you may see the stones bulge through the
+flowery pattern; there the ladies sell their faces, the gentlemen
+their titles and their money; and much I fear Miss Fountain's hand
+will go like the rest--to the highest bidder."
+
+"If I thought so, my love, deep as it is, would turn to contempt; I
+would tear her out of my heart, though I tore my heart out of my
+body." He added, "I will know what she is before many hours."
+
+"Do, David. Take her off her guard, and make hot love to her; that is
+your best chance. It is a pity you are so much in love with her; you
+might win her by a surprise if you only liked her in moderation."
+
+"How so, dear Eve?"
+
+"The battle would be more even. Your adoring her gives her the upper
+hand of you. She is sure to say 'no' at first, and then I am afraid
+you will leave off, instead of going on hotter and hotter. The very
+look she will put on to check you will check you, you are so green.
+What a pity I can't take your place for half an hour. I would have her
+against her will. I would take her by storm. If she said 'no' twenty
+times, she should say 'yes' the twenty-first; but you are afraid of
+her; fancy being afraid of a woman. Come, David, you must not
+shilly-shally, but attack her like a man; and, if she is such a fool
+she can't see your merit, forgive her like a man, and forget her like
+a man. Come, promise me you will."
+
+"I promise you this, that if I lose her it shall not be for want of
+trying to win her; and, if she refuses me because I am not her fancy,
+I shall die a bachelor for her sake." Eve sighed. "But if she is the
+mercenary thing you take her for--if she owns to liking me, but
+prefers money to love, then from that moment she is no more to me than
+a picture or a statue, or any other lovely thing that has no soul."
+
+With these determined words he gave his sister his arm, and walked
+with her through the grounds to the road where her cousin was waiting
+for her.
+
+
+Lucy found Mrs. Wilson in the hall. "Come into the library, Mrs.
+Wilson," said she; "I have only just heard you were here. Won't you
+sit down? Are you not well, Mrs. Wilson? You tremble. You are
+fatigued, I fear. Pray compose yourself. May I ring for a glass of
+wine for you?"
+
+"No, no, Miss Lucy," said the woman, smiling; "it is only along of you
+coming to me so sudden, and you so grown. Eh! sure, can this fine
+young lady be the little girl I held in my lap but t'other day, as it
+seems?"
+
+There was an agitation and ardor about Mrs. Wilson that, coupled with
+the flaming bonnet, made Miss Fountain uneasy. She thought Mrs. Wilson
+must be a little cracked, or at least flighty.
+
+"Pray compose yourself, madam," said she, soothingly, but with that
+dignity nobody could assume more readily than she could. "I dare say I
+am much grown since I last had the pleasure of seeing you; but I have
+not outgrown my memory, and I am happy to receive you, or any of our
+old servants that knew my dear mother."
+
+"Then I must not look for a welcome," said Mrs. Wilson, with feminine
+logic, "for I was never your servant, nor your mamma's." Lucy opened
+her eyes, and her face sought an explanation.
+
+"I never took any money for what I gave you, so how could I be a
+servant? To see me a dangling of my heels in your hall so long, one
+would say I was a servant; but I am not a servant, nor like to be,
+please God, unless I should have the ill luck to bury my two boys, as
+I have their father. So perhaps the best thing I can do, miss, is to
+drop you my courtesy and walk back as I came." The Amazon's manner was
+singularly independent and calm, but the tell-tale tears were in the
+large gray honest eyes before she ended.
+
+Lucy's natural penetration and habit of attending to faces rather than
+words came to her aid. "Wait a minute, Mrs. Wilson," said she; "I
+think there is some misunderstanding here. Perhaps the fault is mine.
+And yet I remember more than one nursery-maid that was kind enough to
+me; but I have heard nothing of them since."
+
+"Their blood is not in your veins as mine is, unless the doctors have
+lanced it out."
+
+"I never was bled in my life, if you mean that, madam. But I must ask
+you to explain how I can possibly have the--the advantage of
+possessing _your_ blood in _my_ veins."
+
+Mrs. Wilson eyed her keenly. "Perhaps I had better tell you the story
+from first to last, young lady," said she quietly.
+
+"If you please," said the courtier, mastering a sigh; for in Mrs.
+Wilson there was much that promised fluency.
+
+"Well, miss, when you came into the world, your mamma could not nurse
+you. I do notice the gentry that eat the fat of the land are none the
+better for it; for a poor woman can do a mother's part by her child,
+but high-born and high-fed folk can't always; so you had to be brought
+up by hand, miss, and it did not agree with you, and that is no great
+wonder, seeing it is against nature. Well, my little girl, that was
+born just two days after you, died in my arms of convulsion fits when
+she was just a month old. She had only just been buried, and me in
+bitter grief, when doesn't the doctor call and ask me as a great
+favor, would I nurse Mrs. Fountain's child, that was pining for want
+of its natural food. I bade him get out of my sight. I felt as if no
+woman had a right to have a child living when my little darling was
+gone. But my husband, a just man as ever was, said, 'Take a thought,
+Mary; the child is really pining, by all accounts.' Well, I would not
+listen to him. But next Sunday, after afternoon church, my mother,
+that had not said a word till then, comes to me, and puts her hand on
+my shoulder with a quiet way she had. 'Mary,' says she, 'I am older
+than you, and have known more.' She had buried six of us, poor thing.
+Says she, scarce above a whisper, 'Suckle that failing child. It will
+be the better for her, and the better for you, Mary, my girl.' Well,
+miss, my mother was a woman that didn't interfere every minute, and
+seldom gave her reasons; but, if you scorned her advice, you mostly
+found them out to your cost; and then she was my mother; and in those
+days mothers were more thought of, leastways by us that were women and
+had suffered for our children, and so learned to prize the woman that
+had suffered for us. 'Well, then,' I said, 'if you say so, mother, I
+suppose I didn't ought to gainsay you, on the Lord His day.' For you
+see my mother was one that chose her time for speaking--eh! but she
+was wise. 'Mother,' says I, 'to oblige you, so be it'; and with that I
+fell to crying sore on my mother's neck, and she wasn't long behind
+me, you may be sure. Whiles we sat a crying in one another's arms, in
+comes John, and goes to speak a word of comfort. 'It is not that,'
+says my mother; 'she have given her consent to nurse Mrs. Fountain's
+little girl.' 'It is much to her credit,' says he: says he, 'I will
+take her up to the house myself.' 'What for?' says I; 'them that
+grants the favor has no call to run after them that asks it.' You see,
+Miss Lucy, that was my ignorance; we were small farmers, too
+independent to be fawning, and not high enough to weed ourselves of
+upishness. Your mamma, she was a real lady, so she had no need to
+trouble about her dignity; she thought only of her child; and she
+didn't send the child, but she came with it herself. Well, she came
+into our kitchen, and made her obeisance, and we to her, and mother
+dusted her a seat. She was pale-like, and a mother's care was in her
+face, and that went to my heart. 'This is very, very kind of you, Mrs.
+Wilson,' said she. Those were her words. 'Mayhap it is,' says I; and
+my heart felt like lead. Mother made a sign to your mamma that she
+should not hurry me. I saw the signal, for I was as quick as she was;
+but I never let on I saw it. At last I plucked up a bit of courage,
+and I said, 'Let me see it.' So mother took you from the girl that
+held you all wrapped up, and mother put you on my knees; and I took a
+good look at you. You had the sweetest little face that ever came into
+the world, but all peaked and pining for want of nature. With you
+being on my knees, my bosom began to yearn over you, it did. 'The
+child is starved,' said I; 'that is all its grief. And you did right
+to bring it' here.' Your mother clasps her hands, 'Oh, Mrs. Wilson,'
+says she, 'God grant it is not too late.' So then I smiled back to
+her, and I said, 'Don't you fret; in a fortnight you shan't know her.'
+You see I was beginning to feel proud of what I knew I could do for
+you. I was a healthy young woman, and could have nursed two children
+as easy as some can one. To make a long story short, I gave you the
+breast then and there; and you didn't leave us long in doubt whether
+cow's milk or mother's milk is God's will for sucklings. Well, your
+mamma put her hands before her face, and I saw the tears force their
+way between her fingers. So, when she was gone, I said to my mother,
+'What was that for?' 'I shan't tell you,' says she. 'Do, mother,' says
+I. So she said, 'I wonder at your having to ask; can't you see it was
+jealousy-like. Do you think she has not her burden to bear in this
+world as well as you? How would you like to see another woman do a
+mother's part for a child of yours, and you sit looking on like a
+toy-mother? Eh! Miss Lucy, but I was vexed for her at that, and my
+heart softened; and I used to take you up to the great house, and
+spend nearly the whole day there, not to rob her of her child more
+than need be."
+
+"Oh, Mrs. Wilson! Oh, you kind, noble-hearted creature, surely Heaven
+will reward you."
+
+"That is past praying for, my dear. Heaven wasn't going to be long in
+debt to a farmer's wife, you may be sure; not a day, not an hour. I
+had hardly laid you to my breast when you seemed to grow to my heart.
+My milk had been tormenting me for one thing. My good mother had
+thought of that, I'll go bail; and of course you relieved me. But,
+above all, you numbed the wound in my heart, and healed it by degrees:
+a part of my love that lay in the churchyard seemed to come back like,
+and settle on the little helpless darling that milked me. At whiles I
+forgot you were not my own; and even when I remembered it, it was--I
+don't know--somehow--as if it wasn't so. I knew in my head you were
+none of mine, but what of that? I didn't feel it here. Well, miss, I
+nursed you a year and two months, and a finer little girl never was
+seen, and such a weight! And, of course, I was proud of you; and often
+your dear mother tried to persuade me to take a twenty-pound note, or
+ten; but I never would. I could not sell my milk to a queen. I'd
+refuse it, or I'd make a gift of it, and the love that goes with it,
+which is beyond price. I didn't say so to her in so many words, but I
+did use to tell her 'I was as much in her little girl's debt as she
+was in mine,' and so I was. But as for a silk gown, and a shawl, and
+the like, I didn't say 'No' to them; who ever does?"
+
+"Nurse!"
+
+"My lamb!"
+
+"Can you ever forgive me for confounding you with a servant? I am so
+inexperienced. I knew nothing of all this."
+
+"Oh, Miss Lucy, 'let that flea stick in the wall,' as the saying is."
+
+"But, dear Mrs. Wilson, now only think that your affection for me
+should have lasted all these years. You speak as if such tenderness
+was common. I fear you are mistaken there: most nurses go away and
+think no more of those to whom they have been as mothers in infancy."
+
+"How do you know that, Miss Lucy? Who can tell what passes inside
+those poor women that are ground down into slaves, and never dare show
+their real hearts to a living creature? Certainly hirelings will be
+hirelings, and a poor creature that is forced to sell her breast, and
+is bundled off as soon as she has served the grand folks' turn, why,
+she behooves to steel herself against nature, and she knows that from
+the first; but whether she always does get to harden herself, I take
+leave to doubt. Miss Lucy; I knew an unfortunate girl that nursed a
+young gentleman, leastways a young nobleman it was, and years after
+that I have known her to stand outside the hedge for an hour to catch
+a sight of him at play on the lawn among the other children. Ay, and
+if she had a penny piece to spare she would go and buy him
+sugar-plums, and lay wait for him, and give them him, and he heir to
+thousands a year."
+
+"Poor thing! Poor thing!"
+
+"Next to the tie of blood, Miss Lucy, the tie of milk is a binding
+affection. When you went to live twenty miles from us, I behooved to
+come in the cart and see you from time to time."
+
+"I remember, nurse, I remember."
+
+"When I came to our new farm hard by, you were away; but as soon as I
+heard you were come back, it was like a magnet drawing me. I could not
+keep away from you."
+
+"Heaven forbid you should; and I will come and see you, dear nurse."
+
+"Will ye, now? Do now. I have got a nice little parlor for you. It is
+a very good house for a farm-house; and there we can set and talk at
+our ease, and no fine servants, dressed like lords, coming staring
+in."
+
+Lucy now proffered a timid request that Mrs. Wilson would take off her
+bonnet. "I want to see your good kind face without any ornament."
+
+"Hear to that, now, the darling;" and off came the bonnet.
+
+"Now your cap."
+
+"Well, I don't know; I hadn't time to do my hair as should be before
+coming."
+
+"What does that matter with me? I must see you without that cap."
+
+"What! don't you like my new cap? Isn't it a pretty cap? Why, I bought
+it a purpose to come and see you in."
+
+"Oh, it is a very pretty cap in itself," said the courtier, "but it
+does not suit the shape of your face. Oh, what a difference! Ah! now I
+see your heart in your face. Will you let me make you a cap?"
+
+"Will you, now, Miss Lucy? I shall be so proud wearing it our house
+will scarce hold me."
+
+At this juncture a footman came in with a message from Mrs. Bazalgette
+to remind Lucy that they dined out.
+
+"I must go and dress, nurse." She then kissed her and promised to ride
+over and visit her at her farm next week, and spend a long time with
+her quietly, and so these new old friends parted.
+
+Lucy pondered every word Mrs. Wilson had said to her, and said to
+herself: "What a child I am still! How little I know! How feebly I
+must have observed!"
+
+The party at dinner consisted of Mr. Bazalgette, David, and Reginald,
+who, taking advantage of his mother's absence and Lucy's, had
+prevailed on the servants to let him dine with the grown-up ones.
+"Halo? urchin," said Mr. Bazalgette, "to what do we owe this honor?"
+
+"Papa," said Reginald, quaking at heart, "if I don't ever begin to be
+a man what is to become of me?"
+
+Mr. Reginald did not exhibit his full powers at dinner-time. He was
+greatest at dessert. Peaches and apricots fell like blackberries. He
+topped up with the ginger and other preserves; then he uttered a sigh,
+and his eye dwelt on some candied pineapple he had respited too long.
+Putting the pineapple's escape and the sigh together, Mr. Bazalgette
+judged that absolute repletion had been attained. "Come, Reginald,"
+said he, "run away now, and let Mr. Dodd and me have our talk." Before
+the words were even out of his mouth a howl broke from the terrible
+infant. He had evidently feared the proposal, and got this dismal howl
+all ready.
+
+"Oh, papa! Oh! oh!"
+
+"What is the matter?"
+
+"Don't make me go away with the ladies this time. Jane says I am not a
+man because I go away when the ladies go. And Cousin Lucy won't marry
+me till I am a man. Oh, papa, do let me be a man this once."
+
+"Let him stay, sir," said David.
+
+"Then he must go and play at the end of the room, and not interrupt
+our conversation."
+
+Mr. Reginald consented with rapture. He had got a new puzzle. He could
+play at it in a corner; all he wanted was to be able to stop Jane's
+mouth, should she ever jeer him again. Reginald thus disposed of, Mr.
+Bazalgette courted David to replenish his glass and sit round to the
+fire. The fire was huge and glowing, the cut glass sparkled, and the
+ruby wine glowed, and even the faces shone, and all invited genial
+talk. Yet David, on the eve of his departure and of his fate,
+oppressed with suspense and care, was out of the reach of those
+genial, superficial influences. He could only just mutter a word of
+assent here and there, then relapsed into his reverie, and eyed the
+fire thoughtfully, as if his destiny lay there revealed. Mr.
+Bazalgette, on the contrary, glowed more and more in manner as well as
+face, and, like many of his countrymen, seemed to imbibe friendship
+with each fresh glass of port.
+
+At last, under the double influence of his real liking for David and
+of the Englishman-thawing Portuguese decoction, he gave his favorite a
+singular proof of friendship. It came about as follows. Observing that
+he had all the talk to himself, he fixed his eyes with an expression
+of paternal benevolence on his companion, and was silent in turn.
+
+David looked up, as we all do when a voice ceases, and saw this mild
+gaze dwelling on him.
+
+"Dodd, my boy, you don't say a word; what is the matter?"
+
+"I am very bad company, sir, that is the truth."
+
+"Well, fill your glass, then, and I'll talk for you. I have got
+something to say for you, young gentleman." David filled his glass and
+forced himself to attend; after a while no effort was needed.
+
+"Dodd," resumed the mature merchant, "I need hardly tell you that I
+have a particular regard for you; the reason is, you are a young man
+of uncommon merit."
+
+"Mr. Bazalgette! sir! I don't know which way to look when you praise
+me like that. It is your goodness; you overrate me."
+
+"No, I don't. I am a judge of men. I have seen thousands, and seen
+them too close to be taken in by their outside. You are the only one
+of my wife's friends that ever had the run of my study. What do you
+think of that, now?"
+
+"I am very proud of it, sir; that is all I can find to say."
+
+"Well, young man, that same good opinion I have of you induces me to
+do something else, that I have never done for any of your
+predecessors."
+
+Mr. Bazalgette paused. David's heart beat. Quick as lightning it
+darted through his mind, "He is going to ask a favor for me.
+Promotion? Why not? He is a merchant. He has friends in the Company.'"
+
+"I am going to interfere in your concerns, Dodd."
+
+"You are very good, sir."
+
+"Well, perhaps I am. I have to overcome a natural reluctance. But you
+are worth the struggle. I shall therefore go against the usages of the
+world, which I don't care a button for, and my own habits, which I
+care a great deal for, and give you, humph--a piece of friendly
+advice."
+
+David looked blank.
+
+"Dodd, my boy, you are playing the fool in this house."
+
+David looked blanker.
+
+"It is not your fault; you are led into it by one of those sweet
+creatures that love to reduce men to the level of their own wisdom.
+You are in love, or soon will be."
+
+David colored all over like a girl, and his face of distress was
+painful to see.
+
+"You need not look so frightened; I am your friend, not your enemy.
+And do you really think others besides me have not seen what is going
+on? Now, Dodd, my dear fellow, I am an old man, and you are a young
+one. Moreover, I understand the lady, and you don't."
+
+"That is true, sir; I feel I cannot fathom her."
+
+"Poor fellow! Well, but I have known her longer than you."
+
+"That is true, sir."
+
+"And on closer terms of intimacy."
+
+"No doubt, sir."
+
+"Then listen to me. She is all very charming outside, and full of
+sensibility outside, but she has no more real feeling than a fish. She
+will go a certain length with you, or with any agreeable young man,
+but she can always stop where it suits her. No lady in England values
+position and luxury more than she does, or is less likely to sacrifice
+them to love, a passion she is incapable of. Here, then, is a game at
+which you run all the risk. No! leave her to puppies like Kenealy;
+they are her natural prey. You must not play such a heart as yours
+against a marble taw. It is not an even stake."
+
+David groaned audibly. His first thought was, "Eve says the same of
+her." His second, "All the world is against her, poor thing."
+
+"Is she to bear the blame of my folly?"
+
+"Why not? She is the cause of your folly. It began with her setting
+her cap at you."
+
+"No, sir, you do her wrong. She is modesty itself."
+
+"Ta! ta! ta! you are a sailor, green as sea-weed."
+
+"Mr. Bazalgette, as I am a gentleman, she never has encouraged me to
+love her as I do."
+
+"Your statement, sir, is one which becomes a gentleman--under the
+circumstances. But I happen to have watched her. It is a thing I have
+taken the trouble to do for some time past. It was my interest in you
+that made me curious, and apprehensive--on your account."
+
+"Then, if you have watched her, you must have seen her avoid me."
+
+"Pooh! pooh! that was drawing the bait; these old stagers can all do
+that."
+
+"Old stagers!" and David looked as if blasphemy had been uttered.
+Bazalgette wore a grin of infinite irony.
+
+"Don't be shocked," said he; "of course, I mean old in flirtation; no
+lady is old in years."
+
+"_She_ is not, at all events."
+
+"It is agreed. There are legal fictions, and why not social ones?"
+
+"I don't understand you, sir; and, in truth, it is all a puzzle to me.
+You don't seem angry with me?"
+
+"Why, of course not, my poor fellow; I pity you."
+
+"Yet you discourage me, Mr. Bazalgette."
+
+"But not from any selfish motive. I want to spare you the
+mortification that is in store for you. Remember, I have seen the
+_end_ of about a dozen of you."
+
+"Good Heavens! And what is the end of us?"
+
+"The cold shoulder without a day's warning, and another fool set in
+your place, and the house door slammed in your face, etc., etc. Oh,
+with her there is but one step from flirtation to detestation. Not one
+of her flames is her friend at this moment."
+
+David hung his head, and his heart turned sick; there was a silence of
+some seconds, during which Bazalgette eyed him keenly. "Sir," said
+David, at last, "your words go through me like a knife."
+
+"Never mind. It is a friendly surgeon's knife, not an assassin's."
+
+"Yet you say it is only out of regard for me you warn me so against
+her."
+
+"I repeat it."
+
+"Then, sir, if, by Heaven's mercy, you should be mistaken in her
+character--if, little as I deserve it, I should succeed in winning her
+regard--I might reckon on your permission--on your kind--support?"
+
+"Hardly," said Mr. Bazalgette, hastily. He then stared at the honest
+earnest face that was turned toward him. "Well," said he, "you modest
+gentlemen have a marvelous fund of assurance at bottom. No, sir; with
+the exception of this piece of friendly advice I shall be strictly
+neutral. In return for it, if you should succeed, be so good as to
+take her out of the house, that is the only stipulation I venture to
+propose."
+
+"I should be sure to do that," cried David, lifting his eyes to Heaven
+with rapture; "but I shall not have the chance."
+
+"So I keep telling you. You might as well hope to tempt a statue of
+the Goddess Flirtation. She infinitely prefers wealth and vanity to
+anything, even to vice."
+
+"Vice, sir! is that a term for us to apply to a lady like her, whom we
+are all unworthy to approach?" and David turned very red.
+
+"Well, _you_ need not quarrel with _me_ about her, as
+_I_ don't with _you."_
+
+"Quarrel with you, dear sir? I hope I feel your kindness, and know my
+duty better; but, sir, I am agitated, and my heart is troubled; and
+surely you go beyond reason. She is not old enough to have had so many
+lovers."
+
+"Humph! she has made good use of her time."
+
+"Even could I believe that she, who seems to me an angel, is a
+coquette, still she cannot be hard and heartless as you describe her.
+It is impossible; it does not belong to her years."
+
+"You keep harping on her age, Dodd. Do you know her age? If you do,
+you have the advantage of me. I have not seen her baptismal register.
+Have you?"
+
+"No, sir, but I know what she says is her age."
+
+"That is only evidence of what is not her age."
+
+"But there is her face, sir; that is evidence."
+
+"You have never seen her face; it is always got up to deceive the
+public."
+
+"I have seen it at the dawn, before any of you were up."
+
+"What is that? Halo! the deuce--where?"
+
+"In the garden."
+
+"In the garden? Oh, she does not jump off her down-bed on to a
+flowerbed. She had been an hour at work on that face before ever the
+sun or you got leave to look on it."
+
+"I'll stake my head I tell her age within a year, Mr. Bazalgette."
+
+"No you will not, nor within ten years."
+
+"That is soon seen. I call her one-and-twenty."
+
+"One-and-twenty! You are mad! Why, she has had a child that would be
+fifteen now if it had lived."
+
+"Miss Lucy? A child? Fifteen years? What on earth do you mean?"
+
+"What do _you_ mean? What has Miss Lucy to do with it? You know
+very well it is MY WIFE I am warning you against, not that innocent
+girl."
+
+At this David burst out in his turn. "YOUR WIFE! and have you so vile
+an opinion of me as to think I would eat your bread and tempt your
+wife under your roof. Oh, Mr. Bazalgette, is this the esteem you
+profess for me?"
+
+"Go to the Devil!" shouted Bazalgette, in double ire at his own
+blunder and at being taken to task by his own Telemachus; he added,
+but in a very different tone, "You are too good for this world."
+
+The best things we say miss fire in conversation; only second-rate
+shots hit the mind through the ear. This, we will suppose, is why
+David derived no amusement or delectation from Mr. Bazalgette's
+inadvertent but admirable _bon-mot._
+
+"Go to the Devil! you are too good for this world."
+
+He merely rose, and said gravely, "Heaven forgive you your unjust
+suspicions, and God bless you for your other kindness. Good-by!"
+
+"Why, where on earth are you going?"
+
+"To stow away my things; to pack up, as they call it."
+
+"Come back! come back! why, what a terrible fellow you are; you make
+no allowances for metaphors. There, forgive me, and shake hands. Now
+sit down. I esteem you more than ever. You have come down from another
+age and a much better one than this. Now let us be calm, quiet,
+sensible, tranquil. Hallo!" (starting up in agitation), "a sudden
+light bursts on me. You are in love, and not with my wife; then it is
+my ward."
+
+"It is too late to deny it, sir."
+
+"That is far more serious than the other," said Bazalgette, very
+gravely; "the old one would have been sure to cure you of your fancy
+for her, soon or late, but Lucy! Now, just look at that young buffer's
+eyes glaring at us like a pair of saucers."
+
+"I am not listening, papa; I haven't heard a word you and Mr. Dodd
+have said about naughty ladies. I have been such a good boy, minding
+my puzzle."
+
+"I wish he may not have been minding ours instead," muttered his sire,
+and rang the bell, and ordered the servant to take away Master
+Reginald and bring coffee.
+
+The pair sipped their coffee in dead silence. It was broken at last by
+David saying sadly and a little bitterly, "I fear, sir, your good
+opinion of me does not go the length of letting me come into your
+family."
+
+The merchant seemed during the last five minutes to have undergone
+some starching process, so changed was his whole manner now; so
+distant, dignified and stiff. "Mr. Dodd," said he, "I am in a
+difficult position. Insincerity is no part of my character. When I say
+I have a regard for a man, I mean it. But I am the young lady's
+guardian, sir. She is a minor, though on the verge of her majority,
+and I cannot advise her to a match which, in the received sense, would
+be a very bad one for her. On the other hand, there are so many
+insuperable obstacles between you and her, that I need not combat my
+personal sentiments so far as to act against you; it would, indeed,
+hardly be just, as I have surprised your secret unfairly, though with
+no unfair intention. My promise not to act hostilely implies that I
+shall not reveal this conversation to Mrs. Bazalgette; if I did I
+should launch the deadliest of all enemies--irritated vanity--upon
+you, for she certainly looks on you as her plaything, not her niece's;
+and you would instantly be the victim of her spite, and of her
+influence over Lucy, if she discovered you have the insolence to
+escape her, and pursue another of her sex. I shall therefore keep
+silence and neutrality. Meantime, in the character, not of her
+guardian, but of your friend, I do strongly advise you not to think
+seriously of her. She will never marry you. She is a good, kind,
+amiable creature, but still she is a girl of the world--has all its
+lessons at her finger ends. Bless your heart, these meek beauties are
+as ambitious as Lucifer, and this one's ambition is fed by constant
+admiration, by daily matrimonial discussions with the old stager, and
+I believe by a good offer every now and then, which she refuses,
+because she is waiting for a better. Come, now, it only wants one good
+wrench--"
+
+David interrupted him mildly: "Then, sir," said he, thoughtfully; "the
+upshot is that, if she says 'Yes,' you won't say 'No.'"
+
+The mature merchant stared.
+
+"If," said he, and with this short sentence and a sardonic grin he
+broke off trying
+
+           "To fetter flame with flaxen band."
+
+So nothing more was said or done that evening worth recording.
+
+The next day, being the day of the masquerade, was devoted by the
+ladies to the making, altering, and trying on of dresses in their
+bedrooms. This turned the downstairs rooms so dark and unlovely that
+the gentlemen deserted the house one after the other. Kenealy and
+Talboys rode to see a cricket match ten miles off. Hardie drove into
+the town of ---- and David paced the gravel walk in hopes that by
+keeping near the house he might find Lucy alone, for he was determined
+to know his fate and end his intolerable suspense.
+
+He had paced the walk about an hour when fortune seemed to favor his
+desires. Lucy came out into the garden. David's heart beat violently.
+To his great annoyance, Mr. Fountain followed her out of the house and
+called her. She stopped, and he joined her; and very soon uncle and
+niece were engaged in a conversation which seemed so earnest that
+David withdrew to another part of the garden not to interfere with
+them.
+
+He waited, and waited, and waited till they should separate; but no,
+they walked more and more slowly, and the conversation seemed to
+deepen in interest. David chafed. If he had known the nature of that
+conversation he would have writhed with torture as well as fretted
+with impatience, for there the hand of her he loved was sought in
+marriage before his eyes, and within a few steps of him. On such
+threads hangs human life. Had he been at the hall door instead of in
+the garden, he might have anticipated Mr. Fountain. As it was, Mr.
+Fountain stole the march on him.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+TO-MORROW Lucy had agreed to sail, and in the boat Mr. Talboys was to
+ask and win her band. But from the first Mr. Fountain had never a
+childlike confidence in the scheme, and his understanding kept
+rebelling more and more.
+
+"'The man that means to pop, pops," said he; "one needn't go to
+sea--to pop. Terra firma is poppable on, if it is nothing else. These
+young fellows are like novices with a gun: the bird must be in a
+position or they can't shoot it--with their pop-guns. The young sparks
+in my day could pop them down flying. We popped out walking, popped
+out riding, popped dancing, popped psalm-singing. Talboys could not
+pop on horseback, because the lady's pony fidgeted, not his. Well, it
+will be so to-morrow. The boat will misbehave, or the wind will be
+easterly, and I shall be told southerly is the popping wind. The truth
+is, he is faint-hearted. His sires conquered England, and he is afraid
+of a young girl. I'll end this nonsense. He shall pop by proxy."
+
+In pursuance of this resolve, seeing his niece pass through the hall
+with her garden hat on, he called to her that he would get his hat and
+join her. They took one turn together almost in silence. Fountain was
+thinking how he should best open the subject, and Lucy waiting after
+her own fashion, for she saw by the old man's manner he had something
+to say to her.
+
+"Lucy, my dear, I leave you in a day or two."
+
+"So soon, uncle."
+
+"And it depends on you whether I am to go away a happy or a
+disappointed old man."
+
+At these words, to which she was too cautious to reply in words, Lucy
+wore a puzzled air; but underneath it a keen observer might have
+noticed her cheek pale a little, a very little, and a quiver of
+suppressed agitation pass over her like a current of air in summer
+over a smooth lake.
+
+Receiving no answer, Mr. Fountain went on to remind her that he was
+her only kinsman, Mrs. Bazalgette being her relation by half-blood
+only; and told her that, looking on himself as her father, he had
+always been anxious to see her position in life secured before his own
+death.
+
+"I have been ambitious for you, my dear," said he, "but not more so
+than your beauty and accomplishments, and your family name entitle us
+to be. Well, my ambition for you and my affection for you are both
+about to be gratified; at least, it now rests with you to gratify
+them. Will you be Mrs. Talboys?"
+
+Lucy looked down, and said demurely, "What a question for a third
+person to put!"
+
+"Should I put it if I had not a right?"
+
+"I don't know."'
+
+"You ought to know, Lucy."
+
+"Mr. Talboys has authorized you, dear?"
+
+"He has."'
+
+"Then this is a formal proposal from Mr. Talboy's?"
+
+"Of course it is," said the old gentleman, fearlessly, for Lucy's
+manner of putting these questions was colorless; nobody would have
+guessed what she was at.
+
+She now drew her arm round her uncle's neck, and kissed him, which
+made him exult prematurely.
+
+"Then, dear uncle," said she lovingly, "you must tell Mr. Talboys that
+I thank him for the honor he does me, and that I decline."
+
+"Accept, you mean?"
+
+"No I don't--ha! ha!"
+
+
+Her laugh died rapidly away at sight of the effect of her words. Mr.
+Fountain started, and his face turned red and pale alternately.
+
+"Refuse my friend--refuse Talboys in that way? Thoughtless girl, you
+don't know what you are doing. His family is all but noble. What am I
+saying? noble? why, half the House of Peers is sprung from the dregs
+of the people, and got there either by pettifogging in the courts of
+law, or selling consciences in the Lower House; and of the other half,
+that are gentlemen of descent, not two in twenty can show a pedigree
+like Talboys. And with that name a princely mansion--antiquity stamped
+on it--stands in its own park, in the middle of its vast estates, with
+title-deeds in black-letter, girl."
+
+"But, uncle, all this is encumbered--"
+
+"It is false, whoever told you so. There is not a mortgage on any part
+of it--only a few trifling copyholds and pepper-corn rents."
+
+"You misunderstand me; I was going to say, it is encumbered with a
+gentleman for whom I could never feel affection, because he does not
+inspire me with respect."
+
+"Nonsense! he inspires universal respect."
+
+"It must be by his estates, then, not his character. You know, uncle,
+the world is more apt to ask, 'What _has_ he, then what _is_
+he?'"
+
+"He _is_ a polished gentleman."
+
+"But not a well-bred one."
+
+"The best bred I ever saw.
+
+"Then you never looked in a glass, dear. No, dear uncle, I will tell
+you. Mr. Talboys has seen the world, has kept good society, is at his
+ease (a great point), and is perfect in externals. But his good
+manners are--what shall I say?--coat deep. His politeness is not proof
+against temptation, however petty. The reason is, it is only a
+spurious politeness. Real politeness is founded and built on the
+golden rule, however delicate and artificial its superstructure may
+be. But, leaving out of the question the politeness of the heart, he
+has not in any sense the true art of good-breeding; he has only the
+common traditions. Put him in a novel situation, with no rules and
+examples to guide him, he would be maladroit as a school-boy. He is
+just the counterpart of Mr. Dodd in that respect. Poor Mr. Dodd is
+always shocking one by violating the commonest rules of society; but
+every now and then he bursts out with a flash of natural courtesy so
+bright, so refined, so original, yet so worthy of imitation, that you
+say to yourself this is genius--the genius of good-breeding."
+
+Mr. Fountain chafed with impatience during this tirade, in which he
+justly suspected an attempt to fritter away a serious discussion.
+
+"Come off your hobby, Lucy," cried he, "and speak to me like a woman
+and like my niece. If this is your objection, overcome it for my
+sake."
+
+"I would, dear," said Lucy, "but it is only one of my objections, and
+by no means the most serious."
+
+On being invited to come at once to the latter, Lucy hesitated. "Would
+not that be unamiable on my part? Mr. Talboys has just paid me the
+highest compliment a gentleman can pay a lady; it is for me to decline
+him courteously, not abuse him to his friend and representative."
+
+"No humbug, Lucy, if you please; I am in no humor for it."
+
+"We should all be savages without a _little_ of it."
+
+"I am waiting."
+
+"Then pledge me your word of honor no word of what I now say to the
+disadvantage of poor Mr. Talboys shall ever reach him."
+
+"You may take your oath of that."
+
+"Then he is a detractor, a character I despise."
+
+"Who does he detract from? I never heard him."
+
+"From all his superiors--in other words, from everybody he meets. Did
+you ever know him fail to sneer at Mr. Hardie?"
+
+"Oh, that is the offense, is it?"
+
+"No, it is the same with others; there, the other day, Mr. Dodd joined
+us on horseback. He did not dress for the occasion. He had no straps
+on. He came in a hurry to have our society, not to cut a dash. But
+there was Mr. Talboys, who can only do this one thing well, and who,
+thanks to his servant, had straps on, sneering the whole time at Mr.
+Dodd, who has mastered a dozen far more difficult and more honorable
+accomplishments than putting on straps and sitting on horses. But he
+is always backbiting and sneering; he admires nothing and nobody."
+
+"He has admired you ever since he saw you."
+
+"What! has he never sneered at me?"
+
+"Never! ungrateful girl, never."
+
+"How humiliating! He takes me for his inferior. His superiors he
+always sneers at. If he had seen anything good or spirited in me, he
+could not have helped detracting from me. Is not this a serious
+reason--that I despise the person who now solicits my love, honor and
+obedience? Well, then, there is another--a stronger still. But perhaps
+you will call it a woman's reason."
+
+"I know. You don't like him--that is, you fancy you don't, and can't."
+
+"No, uncle, it is not that I don't like him. It is that I HATE HIM."
+
+"You hate him?" and Mr. Fountain looked at her to see if it was his
+niece Lucy who was uttering words so entirely out of character.
+
+"I am but a poor hater. I have but little practice; but, with all the
+power of hating I do possess, I hate that Mr. Talboys. Oh, how
+delicious it is to speak one's mind out nice and rudely. It is a
+luxury I seldom indulge in. Yes, uncle," said Lucy, clinching her
+white teeth, "I hate that man, and I did hope his proposal would come
+from himself; then there would have been nothing to alloy my quiet
+satisfaction at mortifying one who is so ready to mortify others. But
+no, he has bewitched you; and you take his part, and you look vexed;
+so all my pleasure is turned to pain."
+
+"It is all self-deception," gasped Fountain, in considerable
+agitation; "you girls are always deceiving yourselves: you none of you
+hate any man--unless you love him. He tells me you have encouraged him
+of late. You had better tell me that is a lie."
+
+"A lie, uncle; what an expression! Mr. Talboys is a gentleman; he
+would not tell a falsehood, I presume."
+
+"Aha! it is true, then, you have encouraged him?"
+
+"A little."
+
+"There, you see; the moment we come from the generalities to facts,
+what a simpleton you are proved to be. Come, now, did you or did you
+not agree to go in a boat with him?"
+
+"I did, dear."
+
+"That was a pretty strong measure, Lucy."
+
+"Very strong, I think. I can tell you I hesitated."
+
+"Now you see how you have mistaken your own feelings."
+
+Lucy hung her head. "Oh uncle, you call me simple--and look at you!
+fancy not seeing why I agreed to go--_dans cette galere._ It was
+that Mr. Talboys might declare himself, and so I might get rid of him
+forever. I saw that if I could not bring him to the point, he would
+dangle about me for years, and perhaps, at last, succeed in irritating
+me to rudeness. But now, of course, I shall stay on shore with my
+uncle to-morrow. _Qu'irais je faire dana cette galere?_ you have
+done it all for me. Oh, my dear, dear uncle, I am so grateful to you!"
+
+She showed symptoms of caressing Mr. Fountain, but he recoiled from
+her angrily. "Viper! but no, this is not you. There is a deeper hand
+than you in all this. This is that Mrs. Bazalgette's doings."
+
+"No, indeed, uncle."
+
+"Give me a proof it is not."
+
+"With pleasure; any proof that is in my power."
+
+"Then promise me not to marry Mr. Hardie."
+
+"My dear uncle, Mr. Hardie has never asked me."
+
+"But he will."
+
+"What right have I to say so? What right have I to constitute Mr.
+Hardie my admirer? I would not for all the world put it into any
+gentleman's power to say, 'Why say "no," Miss Fountain, before I have
+asked you to say "yes"?' Oh!"
+
+And, with this, Lucy put her face into her hands, but they were not
+large enough to hide the deep blush that suffused her whole face at
+the bare idea of being betrayed into an indelicacy of this sort.
+
+"How could he say that? how could he know?" said Mr. Fountain,
+pettishly.
+
+"Uncle, I cannot, I dare not. You and my aunt hate one another; so you
+might be tempted to tell her, and she would be sure to tell him.
+Besides, I cannot; my very instinct revolts from it. It would not be
+modest. I love you, uncle. Let me know your wishes, and have some
+faith in my affection, but pray do not press me further. Oh, what have
+I done, to be spoken of with so many gentlemen!"
+
+Lucy was in evident agitation, and the blushes glowed more and more
+round her snowy hands and between her delicate fingers; and there is
+something so sacred about the modesty alarmed of an intelligent young
+woman--it is a feeling which, however fantastical, is so genuine in
+her, and so manifestly intense beyond all we can ourselves feel of the
+kind, that no man who is not utterly stupid or depraved can see it
+without a certain awe. Even Mr. Fountain, who looked on Lucy's
+distress as transcendent folly with a dash of hypocrisy, could not go
+on making her cheek burn so. "There! there!" cried he, "don't torment
+yourself, Lucy. I will spare your fanciful delicacy, though you have
+no pity on me--on your poor old uncle, whose heart you will break if
+you decline this match."
+
+At these words, and the old man's change from anger to sadness, Lucy
+looked up in dismay, and the vivid color died, like a retiring wave,
+out of her cheek.
+
+"You look surprised, Lucy. What! do you think this will not be a
+heartbreaking disappointment to me? If you knew how I have schemed for
+it--what I have done and endured to bring it about! To quarter the
+arms of Fontaine and Talboys! I put by the 5,000 pounds directly, and
+as much more of my own, that you should not go into that noble family
+without a proper settlement. It was the dream of my heart; I could
+have died contented the next hour. More fool I to care for anybody but
+myself. Your selfish people escape these bitter disappointments. Well,
+it is a lesson. From this hour I will live for myself and care for
+nobody, for nobody cares for me."
+
+These words, uttered with great agitation, and, I believe, with
+perfect sincerity, on his own unselfishness and hard fate, were
+terrible to Lucy. She wreathed her arms suddenly round him.
+
+"Oh, uncle," she cried, despairingly, "kill me! send me to Heaven!
+send me to my mother, but don't stab me with such bitter words;" and
+she trembled with an emotion so much more powerful and convulsing than
+his, in which temper had a large share, that she once more cowed him.
+
+"There! there!" he muttered, "I don't want to kill you, child, God
+knows, or to hurt you in any way."
+
+Lucy trembled, and tried to smile. The good nature, which was the
+upper crust of this man's character, got the better of him.
+
+"There! there! don't distress yourself so. I know who I have to thank
+for all this."
+
+"She has not the power," said Lucy, in a faint voice, "to make me
+ungrateful to you."
+
+Mind is more rapid than lightning. At this moment, in the middle of a
+sentence, it flashed across Lucy that her aunt had convinced her, sore
+against her will, that there was a strong element of selfishness in
+Mr. Fountain. "But it is that he deceives himself," thought Lucy. "He
+would sacrifice my happiness to his hobby, and think he has done it
+for love of me." Enlightened by this rapid reflection, she did not say
+to him as one of his own sex would, "Look in your own heart, and you
+will see that all this is not love of me, but of your own schemes."
+Oh, dear, no, that would not have been the woman. She took him round
+the neck, and, fixing her sapphire eyes lovingly on his, she said, "It
+is for love of me you set your heart on this great match? You wish to
+see me well settled in the world, and, above all, happy?"
+
+"Of course it is. I told you so. What other object can I have?"
+
+"Then, if you saw me wretched, and degraded in my own eyes, your heart
+would bleed for your poor niece--too late. Well, uncle, I love you,
+too, and I save you this day from remorse. Oh, think what it must be
+to hate and despise a man, and link yourself body and soul to that man
+for life. Oh, think and shudder with me. I have a quick eye. I have
+seen your lip curl with contempt when that fool has been talking--ah!
+you blush. You are too much his superior in everything but fortune not
+to despise him at heart. See the thing as it is. Speak to me as you
+would if my mother stood here beside us, uncle, and to speak to me,
+you must look her in the face. Could you say to me before her, 'I love
+you; marry a man we both despise!'?"
+
+Mr. Fountain made no answer. He was disconcerted. Nothing is so easy
+to resist as logic solo. We see it, as a general rule, resisted with
+great success in public and private every day; but when it comes in
+good company, a voice of music, an angel face, gentle, persuasive
+caresses, and imploring eyes, it ceases to revolt the understanding.
+And so, caught in his own trap, foiled, baffled, soothed, caressed,
+all in one breath, Mr. Fountain hung his head, and could not
+immediately reply.
+
+Lucy followed up her advantage. "No," cried she; "say to me, 'I love
+you, Lucy; marry nobody; stay with your uncle, and find your happiness
+in contributing to his comfort.'"
+
+"What is the use my saying that, when I have got Mother Bazalgette
+against me, and her shopkeeper?"
+
+"Never mind, uncle, you say it, and time will show whether your
+influence is small with me, and my affections small for you"; and she
+looked in his face with glistening eyes.
+
+"Well, then," said he, "I do say it, and I suppose that means I must
+urge you no more about poor Talboys."
+
+A shower of kisses descended upon him that moment. Moral: Lose no time
+in sealing a good bargain.
+
+"Come, now, Lucy, you must do me a favor."
+
+"Oh, thank you! thank you! what is it?"
+
+"Ah! but it is about Talboys too."
+
+"Never mind," faltered Lucy, "if it is anything short of--" (full
+stop).
+
+"It is a long way short of that. Look here, Lucy, I must tell you the
+truth. He intends to ask your hand himself: he confided this to me,
+but he never authorized me to commit him as I have done, so that this
+conversation cannot be acted on: it must be a secret between you and
+me."
+
+"Oh, dear! and I thought I had got rid of him so nicely."
+
+"Don't be alarmed," groaned Fountain; "such matches as this can always
+be dropped; the difficulty is to bring them on. All I ask of you,
+then, is not to make mischief between me and my friend, the proudest
+man in England. If you don't value his friendship, I do. You must not
+let him know I have got him insulted by a refusal. For instance, you
+had better go out sailing with him to-morrow as if nothing had passed.
+Will your affection for me carry you as far as that?"
+
+The proposal was wormwood to Lucy. So she smiled and said eagerly: "Is
+that all? Why, I will do it with pleasure, dear. It is not like being
+in the same boat with him for life, you know. Can you give me nothing
+more than that to do for you?"
+
+"No; it does not do to test people's affection too severely. You have
+shown me that. Go on with your walk, Lucy. I shall go in."
+
+"May I not come with you?"
+
+"No; my head aches with all this; if I don't mind I shall eat no
+dinner. Agitation and vexation, don't agree with me. I have carefully
+avoided them all my life. I must go in and lie down for an hour"; and
+he left her rather abruptly.
+
+She looked after him; her subtle eye noticed directly that he walked a
+little more feebly than usual. She ascribed this to his
+disappointment, justly perhaps, for at his age the body has less
+elastic force to resist a mental blow. The sight of him creeping away
+disappointed, and leaning heavier than usual on his stick, knocked at
+her cool but affectionate heart. She began to cry bitterly. When he
+was quite out of sight, she turned and paced the gravel slowly and
+sadly. It was new to her to refuse her uncle anything, still more
+strange to have to refuse him a serious wish. She was prepared,
+thoroughly prepared, for the proposal, but not to find the old man's
+heart so deeply set upon it. A wild impulse came over her to call him
+back and sacrifice herself; but the high spirit and intelligence that
+lay beneath her tenderness and complaisance stood firm. Yet she felt
+almost guilty, and very, very unhappy, as we call it at her age. She
+kept sighing; "Poor uncle!" and paced the gravel very slowly, hanging
+her sweet head, and crying as she went.
+
+
+At the end of the walk David Dodd stood suddenly before her. He came
+flurried on his own account, but stopped thunder-struck at her tears.
+"What is the matter, Miss Lucy?"' said he, anxiously.
+
+"Oh, nothing, Mr. Dodd;" and they flowed afresh.
+
+"Can I do anything for you, Miss Lucy?"
+
+"No, Mr. Dodd."
+
+"Won't you tell me what is the matter? Are you not friends with me
+to-day?"
+
+"I was put out by a very foolish circumstance, Mr. Dodd, and it is one
+with which I shall not trouble you, nor any person of sense. I prefer
+to retain your sympathy by not revealing the contemptible cause of my
+babyish--There!" She shook her head proudly, as if tears were to be
+dispersed like dewdrops. "There!" she repeated; and at this second
+effort she smiled radiantly.
+
+"It is like the sun coming out after a shower," cried David
+rapturously.
+
+"That reminds me I must be _going_ in, Mr. Dodd."
+
+"Don't say that, Miss Lucy. What for?"
+
+"To arrange another shower, one of pearls, on a dress I am to wear
+to-night."
+
+David sighed. "Ah! Miss Lucy, at sight of me you always make for the
+hall door."
+
+Lucy colored. "Oh, do I? I really was not aware of that. Then I
+suppose I am afraid of you. Is that what you would insinuate? "'
+
+"No, Miss Lucy, you are not afraid of me; but I sometimes fear--" and
+he hesitated.
+
+"It must blow very hard that day," said Lucy, with a world of
+politeness. Her tongue was too quick for him. He found it so, and
+announced the fact after his fashion. "I can't tack fast enough to
+follow you," said he despondently.
+
+"But you are not required to follow me," replied this amiable eel,
+with hypocritical benignity; "I am going to my aunt's room to do what
+I told you. I leave you in charge of the quarter-deck." So saying, she
+walked slowly up the steps, and left David standing sorrowfully on the
+gravel. At the top step Miss Lucy turned and inquired gently when he
+was to sail. He told her the ship was expected to anchor off the fort
+to-morrow, but she would not sail till she had got all her passengers
+on board.
+
+"Oh!" said Lucy, with an air of reflection. She then leaned in an easy
+posture against the wall, and, whether it was that she relented a
+little, or that, having secured her retreat, she was now indifferent
+to flight, certain it is that she did after her own fashion what many
+a daughter of Eve has done before her, and many a duchess and many a
+dairymaid will do after La Fountain and I are gone from earth. A
+minute ago it had been, "She must go directly." The more opposition to
+her departure, the more inexorable the necessity for her going;
+opposition withdrawn, and the door open, she stayed no end.
+
+Full twenty minutes did that young lady stand there unsolicited, and
+chat with David Dodd in the kindest, sweetest, most amicable way
+imaginable.
+
+
+She little knew she had an auditor--a female auditor, keen as a lynx.
+
+All this day Reginald George Bazalgette, Esq., might have been defined
+"a pest in search of a playmate." Tom had got a holiday. Lucy only
+came out of her workshop to be seized by Mr. Fountain. David, who was
+waiting in the garden for Lucy, begged Reginald to excuse him for
+once. The young gentleman had recourse as a _pis aller_ to his
+mamma. He invaded her bedroom, and besought her piteously to play at
+battledoor. That lady, sighing deeply at being taken from her dress,
+consented. Her soul not being in it, she played very badly. Her cub
+did not fail to tell her so. "Why, I can keep up a hundred with Mr.
+Dodd," said he.
+
+"Oh, we all know Mr. Dodd is perfection," said the lady with a sneer.
+She was piqued with David. He had gone and left her in a brutal way,
+to make his apologies to Lucy.
+
+"No, he is not," said Reginald. "I have found him out. He is as unjust
+as the rest of them."
+
+"Dear me! and, pray, what has he done?"
+
+"I will tell you, mamma, if you will promise not to tell papa, because
+he told me not to listen, and I didn't listen, mamma, because, you
+know, a gentleman always keeps his word; but they talked so loud the
+words would come into my ear; I could not keep them out. Mamma, are
+there any naughty ladies here?"
+
+"No, my dear."
+
+"Then what did papa mean, warning Mr. Dodd against one?"
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette began to listen as he wished.
+
+"Oh, he called her all the names. He said she was a statue of
+flirtation."
+
+"Who? Lucy?"
+
+"Lucy? no! the naughty lady--the one that had twelve husbands. He kept
+warning him, and warning him, and then Mr. Dodd and papa they began to
+quarrel almost, because Mr. Dodd said the naughty lady was quite
+young, and papa said she was ever so old. Mr. Dodd said she was
+twenty-one. But papa told him she must be more than that, because she
+had a child that would be fifteen years old; only it died. How old
+would sister Emily be if she was alive, mamma? La, mamma, how pretty
+you are: you have got red cheeks like Lucy--redder, oh, ever so much
+redder--and in general they are so pale before dinner. Let me kiss
+you, mamma. I do love the ladies when their cheeks are red."
+
+"There! there! now go on, dear; tell me some more."
+
+"It is very interesting, isn't it, dear mamma?"
+
+"It is amusing, at all events."
+
+"No, it is not amusing--at least, what came after, isn't: it is
+wicked, it is unjust, it is abominable."
+
+"Tell me, dear."
+
+"It turned out it wasn't the naughty lady Mr. Dodd was in love for,
+and who do you think he is in love of?"
+
+"I have not an idea."
+
+"MY LUCY!!!"
+
+"Nonsense, child."
+
+"No, no, mamma, it is not. He owned it plump."
+
+"Are you quite sure, love?"
+
+"Upon my honor."
+
+"What did they say next?"
+
+"Oh, next papa began to talk his fine words that I don't know what the
+meaning of them is one bit. But Mr. Dodd, he could make them out, I
+suppose, for he said, 'So, then, the upshot is--' There, now, what is
+upshot? I don't know. How stupid grown-up people are; they keep using
+words that one doesn't know the meaning of."
+
+"Never mind, love! tell me. What came _after_ upshot?" said Mrs.
+Bazalgette, soothingly, with great apparent calmness and flashing eye.
+
+"How kind you are to-day, mamma! That is twice you have called me
+love, and three times dear; only think. I should love you if you were
+always so kind, and your cheeks as red as they are now."
+
+"Never mind my cheeks. What did Mr. Dodd say? Try and
+remember--come--'The upshot was--'"
+
+"The upshot was--what was the upshot? I forget. No, I remember; the
+upshot was, if Lucy said 'yes,' papa would not say 'no;' that meant to
+marry him. Now didn't you promise me her ever so long ago--the day you
+and I agreed if I went a whole day without being naughty once I should
+have her for ever and ever? and I did go."
+
+"Go to Lucy's room, and tell her to come to me," said Mrs. Bazalgette,
+in a stern, thoughtful voice, which startled poor Reginald, coming so
+soon after the _calinerie._ However, he told her it was no use
+his going to Lucy's room, for she was out in the garden; he had seen
+her there walking with Mr. Fountain. Reginald then ran to the window
+which commanded the garden, to look for Lucy. He had scarcely reached
+it when he began to squeak wildly, "Come here! come here! come here!"
+Mrs. Bazalgette was at the window in a moment, and lo! at the end of
+the garden, walking slowly side by side, were Lucy and Mr. Dodd.
+
+Ridiculous as it may appear, a pang of jealousy shot through the
+married flirt's heart that made her almost feel sick. This was
+followed at the interval of half a second by as pretty a flame of
+hatred as ever the _spretoe injuria formoe_ lighted up in a
+coquette's heart. Doubt drove in its smaller sting besides, and at
+sight of the couple she resolved to have better evidence than
+Reginald's, especially as to Lucy's sentiments. The plan she hit upon
+was effective, but vulgar, and must not be witnessed by a boy of
+inconvenient memory and mistimed fluency. She got rid of him with
+high-principled dexterity. "Reginald," said she, sadly, "you are a
+naughty boy, a disobedient boy, to listen when your papa told you not,
+and to tell me a pack of falsehoods. I must either tell your papa, or
+I must punish you myself; I prefer to do it myself, he would whip you
+so"; with this she suddenly opened her dressing-room door, and pushed
+the terrible infant in, and locked the door. She then told him through
+the keyhole he had better cease yelling, because, if he kept quiet,
+his punishment would only last half an hour, and she flew downstairs.
+There was a large hot-house with two doors, one of which came very
+near to the house door that opened into the garden. Mrs. Bazalgette
+entered the hothouse at the other end, and, hidden by the exotic trees
+and flowers, made rapidly for the door Lucy and David must pass. She
+found it wide open. She half shut it, and slipped behind it, listening
+like a hare and spying like a hawk through the hinges. And, strange as
+it may appear, she had an idea she should make a discovery. As the
+finished sportsman watches a narrow ride in the wood, not despairing
+by a snap-shot to bag his hare as she crosses it, though seen but for
+a moment, so the Bazalgette felt sure that, as the couple passed her
+ambush, something, either in the two sentences they might utter, or,
+more probably, in their tones and general manner, would reveal to one
+of her experience on what footing they were.
+
+A shrewd calculation! But things will be things. They take such turns,
+I might without exaggeration say twists, that calculation is baffled,
+and prophecy dissolved into pitch and toss. This thing turned just as
+not expected. _Primo,_ instead of getting only a snap-shot, Mrs.
+Bazalgette heard every word of a long conversation; and,
+_secundo,_ when she had heard it she could not tell for certain
+on what footing the lady and gentleman were. At first, from their
+familiarity, she inclined to think they were lovers; but, the more she
+listened, the more doubtful she seemed. Lucy was the chief speaker,
+and what she said showed an undisguised interest in her companion; but
+the subject accounted in great measure for that; she was talking of
+his approaching voyage, of the dangers and hardships of his
+profession, and of his return two years hence, his chances of
+promotion, etc. But here was no proof positive of love; they were
+acquaintances of some standing. Then Lucy's manner struck her as
+rather amicable than amorous. She was calm, kind, self-possessed, and
+almost voluble. As for David, he only got in a word here and there.
+When he did, there was something so different in his voice from
+anything he had ever bestowed on _her,_ that she hated him, and
+longed to stick scissors into him from the rear, unseen. At last Lucy
+suddenly recollected, or seemed to recollect, she was busy, and
+retired hastily--so hastily that David saw too late his opportunity
+lost. But the music of her voice had so charmed him that he did not
+like to interrupt it even to speak of that which was nearest his
+heart. David sighed deeply, standing there alone.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette clinched her little fists and looked round for the
+means of vengeance. David went down on his knees. La Bazalgette glared
+through the crack, and wondered what on earth he was at now. Oh! he
+was praying. "He loves her: he is eccentricity itself; so he is
+praying for her, and on _my_ doorsteps" (the householder wounded
+as well as the flirt). It was lucky she had not "a thunderbolt in her
+eye"--Shakespeare, or a celestial messenger of the wrong sort would
+have descended on the devout mariner. It was more than Mrs. Bazalgette
+could bear: she had now and then, not often, unladylike impulses. One
+of them had set her crouching behind the door of an outhouse, and
+listening through a crack; and now she had another, an irresistible
+one: it was, to take that empty flower-pot, fling it as hard as ever
+she could at the devotee, then shut the door quick, fly out at the
+other door, and leave her faithless swain in the agony of knowing
+himself detected and exposed by some unknown and undiscoverable enemy.
+
+For a vengeance extemporized in less than half a second this was very
+respectable. Well, she clawed the flower-pot noiselessly, put her
+other hand on the door, cast a hasty glance at the means of retreat,
+and--things took another twist: she heard the rustle of a coming gown,
+and drew back again, and out came Lucy, and nearly ran over David, who
+was not on his knees after all, but down on his nose, prostrate
+Orientally. The fact is, Lucy, among her other qualities, good and
+bad, was a born housewife, and solicitously careful of certain odds
+and ends called property. She found she had dropped one of her gloves
+in the garden, and she came back in a state of disproportionate
+uneasiness to find it, and nearly ran over David Dodd.
+
+"What _are_ you doing, Mr. Dodd?"
+
+David arose from his Oriental position, and, being a young man whose
+impulse always was to tell the simple truth, replied, "I was kissing
+the place where you stood so long."
+
+He did not feel he had done anything extraordinary, so he gave her
+this information composedly; but her face was scarlet in an instant;
+and he, seeing that, began to blush too. For once Lucy's tact was
+baffled; she did not know what on earth to say, and she stood blushing
+like a girl of fifteen.
+
+
+Then she tried to turn it off.
+
+"Mr. Dodd, how can you be so ridiculous?" said she, affecting humorous
+disdain.
+
+But David was not to be put down now; he was launched.
+
+"I am not ridiculous for loving and worshiping you, for you are worthy
+of even more love than any human heart can hold."
+
+"Oh, hush, Mr. Dodd. I must not hear this."
+
+"Miss Lucy, I can't keep it any longer--you must, you shall hear me.
+You can despise my love if you will, but you _shall_ know it
+before you reject it."
+
+"Mr. Dodd, you have every right to be heard, but let me persuade you
+not to insist. Oh, why did I come back?"
+
+"The first moment I saw you, Miss Lucy, it was a new life to me. I
+never looked twice at any girl before. It is not your beauty only--oh,
+no! it is your goodness--goodness such as I never thought was to be
+found on earth. Don't turn your head from me; I know my defects; could
+I look on you and not see them? My manners are blunt and rude--oh, how
+different from yours! but you could soon make me a fine gentleman, I
+love you so. And I am only the first mate of an Indiaman; but I should
+be a captain next voyage, Miss Lucy, and a sailor like me has no
+expenses; all he has is his wife's. The first lady in the land will
+not be petted as you will, if you will look kindly on me. Listen to
+me," trying to tempt her. "No, Miss Lucy, I have nothing to offer you
+worth your acceptance, only my love. No man ever loved woman as I love
+you; it is not love, it is worship, it is adoration! Ah! she is going
+to speak to me at last!"
+
+Lucy presented at this moment a strange contrast of calmness and
+agitation. Her bosom heaved quickly, and she was pale, but her voice
+was calm, and, though gentle, decided.
+
+"I know you love me, Mr. Dodd, and I feared this. I have tried to save
+you the mortification of being declined by one who, in many things, is
+your inferior. I have even been rude and unkind to you. Forgive me for
+it. I meant it kindly. I regret it now. Mr. Dodd, I thank you for the
+honor you do me, but I cannot accept your love." There was a pause,
+but David's tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. He was not
+surprised, yet he was stupefied when the blow came.
+
+At last he gasped out, "You love some other man?"
+
+Lucy was silent.
+
+"Answer me, for pity's sake; give me something to help me."
+
+"You have no right to ask me such a question, but--I have no
+attachment, Mr. Dodd."
+
+"Ah! then one word more. Is it because you cannot love me, or because
+I am poor, and only first mate of an Indiaman?"
+
+"_That_ I will not answer. You have no right to question a lady
+why she--Stay! you wish to despise me. Well, why not, if that will
+cure you of this unfortunate--Think what you please of me, Mr. Dodd,"
+murmured Lucy, sadly.
+
+"Ah! you know I can't," cried David, despairingly.
+
+"I know that you esteem me more than I deserve. Well, I esteem you,
+Mr. Dodd. Why, then, can we not be friends? You have only to promise
+me you will never return to this subject--come!"
+
+"Me promise not to love you! What is the use? Me be your friend, and
+nothing more, and stand looking on at the heaven that is to be
+another's, and never to be mine? It is my turn to decline. Never.
+Betrothed lovers or strangers, but nothing between! It would drive me
+mad. Away from you, and out of sight of your sweet face, I may make
+shift to live, and go through my duty somehow, for my mother's and
+sister's sake."
+
+"You are wiser than I was, Mr. Dodd. Yes, we must part."
+
+"Of course we must. I have got my answer, and a kinder one than I
+deserve; and now what is the polite thing for me to do, I wonder?"
+David said this with terrible bitterness.
+
+"You frighten me," sighed Lucy.
+
+"Don't you be frightened, sweet angel; there! I have been used to obey
+orders all my life, and I am like a ship tossed in the breakers, and
+you are calm--calm as death. Give me my orders, for God's sake."
+
+"It is not for me to command you, Mr. Dodd. I have forfeited that
+right. But listen to her who still asks to be your friend, and she
+will tell you what will be best for you, and kindest and most generous
+to her."
+
+"Tell me about that last; the other is a waste of words."
+
+"I will, then. Your sister is somewhere in the neighborhood."
+
+"She is at ----; how did you know?"
+
+"I saw her on your arm. I am glad she is so near--Oh, so glad! Bid my
+uncle and aunt good-by; make some excuse. Go to your sister at once.
+_She_ loves you. She is better than I am, if you will but see us
+as we really are. Go to her at once," faltered Lucy, who disliked Eve,
+and Eve her.
+
+"I will! I will! I have thought too little of my own flesh and blood.
+Shall I go now?"
+
+"Yes," murmured Lucy softly, trying to disarm the fatal word. "Forget
+me--and--forgive me!" and, with this last word scarce audible, she
+averted her face, and held out her hand with angelic dignity, modesty
+and pity.
+
+The kind words and the gentle action brought down the stout heart that
+had looked death in the face so often without flinching. "Forgive you,
+sweet angel!" he cried; "I pray Heaven to bless you, and to make you
+as happy as I am desolate for your sake. Oh, you show me more and more
+what I lose this day. God bless you! God bless--" and David's heart
+filled to choking, and he burst out sobbing despairingly, and the hot
+tears ran suddenly from his eyes over her hand as he kissed and kissed
+it. Then, with an almost savage feeling of shame (for these were not
+eyes that were wont to weep), he uttered one cry of despair and ran
+away, leaving her pale and panting heavily.
+
+She looked piteously at her hand, wet with a hero's tears, and for the
+second time to-day her own began to gush. She felt a need of being
+alone. She wanted to think on what she had done. She would hide in the
+garden. She ran down the steps; lo! there was Mr. Hardie coming up the
+gravel-walk. She uttered a little cry of impatience, and dashed
+impetuously into the hot-house, driving the half-open door before her
+with her person as well as her arm.
+
+A scream of terror and pain issued from behind it, with a crash of
+pottery.
+
+Lucy wheeled round at the sound, and there was her aunt, flattened
+against the flower-frame.
+
+Lucy stood transfixed.
+
+But soon her look of surprise gave way to a frown; ay! and a somber
+one.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+THAT ready-minded lady extricated herself from the pots, and wriggled
+out of the moral situation. "I was a listener, dear! an unwilling
+listener; but now I do not regret it. How nobly you behaved!" and with
+this she came at her with open arms, crying, "My own dear niece."
+
+Her own dear niece recoiled with a shiver, and put up both her hands
+as a shield.
+
+"Oh, don't touch me, please. I never heard of a lady listening!!!!"
+
+She then turned her back on her aunt in a somewhat uncourtier-like
+manner, and darted out of the place, every fiber of her frame strung
+up tight with excitement. She felt she was not the calm, dispassionate
+being of yesterday, and hurried to her own room and locked herself in.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette remained behind in a state of bitter mortification,
+and breathing fury on her small scale. But what could she do? David
+would be out of her reach in a few minutes, and Lucy was scarce
+vulnerable.
+
+In the absence of any definite spite, she thought she could not go
+wrong in thwarting whatever Lucy wished, and her wish had been that
+David should go. Besides, if she kept him in the house, who knows, she
+might pique him with Lucy, and even yet turn him her way; so she lay
+in wait for him in the hall. He soon appeared with his bag in his
+hand. She inquired, with great simplicity, where he was going. He told
+her he was going away. She remonstrated, first tenderly, then almost
+angrily. "We all counted on you to play the violin. We can't dance to
+the piano alone."
+
+"I am very sorry, but I have got my orders." Then this subtle lady
+said, carelessly, "Lucy will be _au desespoir._ She will get no
+dancing. She said to me just now, 'Aunt, do try and persuade Mr. Dodd
+to stay over the ball. We shall miss him so.'"
+
+"When did she say that?"
+
+"Just this minute. Standing at the door there."
+
+"Very well; then I'll stay over the ball." And without a word more he
+carried his bag and violin-case up to his room again. Oh, how La
+Bazalgette hated him! She now resigned all hope of fighting with him,
+and contented herself with the pleasure of watching him and Lucy
+together. One would be wretched, and the other must be uncomfortable.
+
+Lucy did not come down to dinner; she was lying down with headache.
+She even sent a message to Mrs. Bazalgette to know whether she could
+be dispensed with at the ball. Answer, "Impossible!" At half-past
+eight she got up, put on her costume, took it off again, and dressed
+in white watered silk. Her assumption of a character was confined to
+wearing a little crown rising to a peak in front. Many of the guests
+had arrived when she glided into the room looking every inch a queen.
+David was dazzled at her, and awestruck at her beauty and mien, and at
+his own presumption.
+
+Her eye fell on him. She gave a little start, but passed on without a
+word. The carpets had been taken up, and the dancing began.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette arranged that Lucy and David should play pianoforte
+and violin until some lady could be found to take her part.
+
+I incline to think Mrs. Bazalgette, spiteful as mortified vanity is
+apt to be, did not know the depth of anguish her subtle vengeance
+inflicted on David Dodd.
+
+He was pale and stern with the bitter struggle for composure. He
+ground his teeth, fixed his eyes on the music-book, and plowed the
+merry tunes as the fainting ox plows the furrow. He dared not look at
+Lucy, nor did he speak to her more than was necessary for what they
+were doing, nor she to him. She was vexed with him for subjecting
+himself and her to unnecessary pain, and in the eye of society--her
+divinity.
+
+Another unhappy one was Mr. Fountain. He sat disconsolate on a seat
+all alone. Mrs. Bazalgette fluttered about like a butterfly, and
+sparkled like a Chinese firework.
+
+Two young ladies, sisters, went to the piano to give Miss Fountain an
+opportunity of dancing. She danced quadrilles with four or five
+gentlemen, including her special admirers. She declined to waltz: "I
+have a little headache; nothing to speak of."
+
+She then sat down to the piano again. "I can play alone, Mr. Dodd; you
+have not danced at all."
+
+"I am not in the humor."
+
+"Very well."
+
+This time they played some of the tunes they had rehearsed together
+that happy evening, and David's lip quivered.
+
+Lucy eyed him unobserved.
+
+"Was this wise--to subject yourself to this?"
+
+"I must obey orders, whatever it costs me--'ri tum ti tum ti tum ti
+tum.'"
+
+"Who ordered you to neglect my advice?--'ri tum tum tum.'"
+
+_"You_ did--'ri tum ti tum tiddy iddy.'"
+
+A look of silent disdain: "Ri tum, ti tum, tiddy iddy." (Ah! perdona
+for relating things as they happen, and not as your grand writers
+pretend they happen.)
+
+Between the quadrilles she asked an explanation.
+
+"Your aunt met me with my bag in my hand, and told me you wanted me to
+play to the company."
+
+When he said this, David heard a sound like the click of a trigger. He
+looked up; it was Lucy clinching her teeth convulsively. But time was
+up: the woman of the world must go on like the prizefighter. The
+couples were waiting.
+
+"Ri tum ti tum ti tum ti tum tiddy iddy." For all that, she did not
+finish the tune. In the middle of it she said to David, "'Ri tum ti
+tum--' can you get through this without me?--'ri tum.'"
+
+"If I can get through life without you, I can surely get through this
+twaddle: 'ri tum ti tum ti tum ti tum tiddy iddy.'" Lucy started from
+her seat, leaving David plowing solo. She started from her seat and
+stood a moment, looking like an angel stung by vipers. Her eye went
+all round the room in one moment in search of some one to blight. It
+surprised Mr. Hardie and Mrs. Bazalgette sitting together and casting
+ironical glances pianoward: "So she has been betraying to Mr. Hardie
+the secret she gained by listening," thought Lucy. The pair were
+probably enjoying David's mortification, his misery.
+
+She walked very slowly down the room to this couple. She looked them
+long and full in the face with that confronting yet overlooking glance
+which women of the world can command on great occasions. It fell, and
+pressed on them both like lead, they could not have told you why. They
+looked at one another ruefully when she had passed them, and then
+their eyes followed her. They saw her walk straight up to her uncle,
+and sit down by him, and take his hand. They exchanged another uneasy
+look.
+
+"Uncle," said Lucy, speaking very quickly, "you are unhappy. I am the
+cause. I am come to say that I promise you not to marry anyone my aunt
+shall propose to me."
+
+"My dear girl, then you won't marry that shopkeeper there?"
+
+"What need of names, still less of epithets? I will marry no friend of
+hers."
+
+"Ah! now you are my brother's daughter again."
+
+"No, I love you no better than I did this morning; but the--"
+
+Celestial happiness diffused itself over old Fountain's face, and Lucy
+glided back to the piano just as the quadrille ended.
+
+"Give me your arm, Mr. Dodd," said she, authoritatively. She took his
+arm, and made the tour of the room leaning on him, and chatting gayly.
+
+She introduced him to the best people, and contrived to appear to the
+whole room joyous and flattered, leaning on David's arm.
+
+The young fellows envied him so.
+
+Every now and then David felt her noble white arm twitch convulsively,
+and her fingers pinch the cloth of his sleeve where it was loose.
+
+She guided him to the supper-room. It was empty. "Oblige me with a
+glass of water."
+
+He gave it her. She drank it.
+
+"Mr. Dodd, the advice I gave you with my own lips I never retracted.
+My aunt imposed upon you. It was done to mortify you. It has failed,
+as you may have observed. My head aches so, it is intolerable. When
+they ask you where I am, say I am unwell, and have retired to my room.
+I shall not be at breakfast; directly after breakfast go to your
+sister, and tell her your friend Lucy declined you, though she knows
+your value, and would not let you be mortified by nullities and
+heartless fools. Good-by, Mr. Dodd; try and believe that none of us
+you leave in this house are worth remembering, far less regretting."
+
+She vanished haughtily; David crept back to the ball-room. It seemed
+dark by comparison now she who lent it luster was gone. He stayed a
+few minutes, then heavy-hearted to bed.
+
+The next morning he shook hands with Mr. Bazalgette, the only one who
+was up, kissed the terrible infant, who, suddenly remembering his many
+virtues, formally forgave him his one piece of injustice, and, as he
+came, so he went away, his bag on his shoulder and his violin-case in
+his hand.
+
+
+He went to Cousin Mary and asked for Eve. Cousin Mary's face turned
+red: "You will find her at No. 80 in this street. She is gone into
+lodgings." The fact is, the cousins had had a tiff, and Eve had left
+the house that moment.
+
+Oh! my sweet, my beloved heroines--you young vipers, when will you
+learn to be faultless, like other people? You have turned my face into
+a peony, blushing for you at every fourth page.
+
+David came into her apartment. He smiled sweetly, but sadly. "Well, it
+is all over. I have offered, and been declined."
+
+At seeing him so quiet and resigned, Eve burst out crying.
+
+"Don't you cry, dear," said David. "It is best so. It is almost a
+relief. Anything before the suspense I was enduring."
+
+Then Eve, recovering her spirits by the help of anger, began to abuse
+Lucy for a cold-hearted, deceitful girl; but David stopped her
+sternly.
+
+"Not a word against her--not a word. I should hate anyone that
+miscalled her. She speaks well of you, Eve; why need you speak ill of
+her? She and I parted friends, and friends let us be. There is no hate
+can lie alongside love in a true heart. No, let nobody speak of her at
+all to me. I shan't; my thoughts, they are my own. 'Go to your
+sister,' said she, and here I am; and I beg your pardon, Eve, for
+neglecting you as I have of late."
+
+"Oh, never mind _that,_ David; _our_ affection will outlast
+this folly many a long year."
+
+"Please God! Your hand in mine, Eve, my lamb, and let us talk of
+ourselves and mother: the time is short."
+
+They sat hand in hand, and never mentioned Lucy's name again; and,
+strange to say, it was David who consoled Eve; for, now the battle was
+lost, her spirit seemed to have all deserted her, and she kept
+bursting out crying every now and then irrelevantly.
+
+It was three in the afternoon. David was sitting by the window, and
+Eve packing his chest in the same room, not to be out of his sight a
+minute, when suddenly he started up and cried, "There she is," and an
+instinctive unreasonable joy illumined his face; the next moment his
+countenance fell.
+
+The carriage passed down the street.
+
+"I remember now," muttered David, "I heard she was to go sailing, and
+Mr. Talboys was to be skipper of the boat. Ah! well."
+
+"Well, let them sail, David. It is not your business."
+
+"That it is not, Eve--nobody's less than mine.
+
+"Eve, there is plenty of wind blowing up from the nor'east."
+
+"Is there? I am afraid that will bring your ship down quick."
+
+"Yes; but it is not that. I am afraid that lubber won't think of
+looking to windward."
+
+"Nonsense about the wind; it is a beautiful day. Come, David, it is no
+use lighting against nature. Put on your hat, then, and run down to
+the beach, and see the last of her; only, for my sake, don't let the
+others see you, to jeer you."
+
+"No, no."
+
+"And mind and be back to dinner at four. I have got a nice roast fowl
+for you."
+
+"Ay ay."
+
+A little before four o'clock a sailor brought a note from David,
+written hastily in pencil. It was sent up to Eve. She read it, and
+clasped her hands vehemently.
+
+"Oh, David, she was born to be your destruction."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+MR. FOUNTAIN, Miss Fountain, and Mr. Talboys started to go on the
+boating expedition. As they were getting into the boat, Mr. Fountain
+felt a little ill, and begged to be excused. Mr. Talboys offered to
+return with him. He declined: "Have your little sail. I will wait at
+the inn for you."
+
+This pantomime had, I blush to say, been arranged beforehand. Miss
+Fountain, we may be sure, saw through it, but she gave no sign. A
+lofty impassibility marked her demeanor, and she let them do just what
+they liked with her.
+
+The boat was launched, the foresail set, and Fountain remained on
+shore in anything but a calm and happy state.
+
+But friendships like these are not free from dross; and I must confess
+that among the feelings which crossed his mind was a hope that Talboys
+would pop, and be refused, as _he_ had been. Why should he,
+Fountain, monopolize defeat? We should share all things with a friend.
+
+Meantime, by one of those caprices to which her sex are said to be
+peculiarly subject, Lucy seemed to have given up all intention of
+carrying out her plan for getting rid of Mr. Talboys. Instead of
+leading him on to his fate, she interposed a subtle but almost
+impassable barrier between him and destruction; her manner and
+deportment were of a nature to freeze declarations of love upon the
+human lip. She leaned back languidly and imperially on the luxurious
+cushions, and listlessly eyed the sky and the water, and ignored with
+perfect impartiality all the living creatures in the boat.
+
+Mr. Talboys endeavored in vain to draw her out of this languid mood.
+He selected an interesting subject of conversation to--himself; he
+told her of his feats yachting in the Mediterranean; he did not tell
+her, though, that his yacht was sailed by the master and not by him,
+her proprietor. In reply to all this Lucy dropped out languid
+monosyllables.
+
+At last Talboys got piqued and clapped on sail.
+
+There had not been a breath of air until half an hour before they
+started; but now a stiff breeze had sprung up; so they had smooth
+water and yet plenty of wind, and the boat cut swiftly through-the
+bubbling water.
+
+"She walks well," said the yachtsman.
+
+Lucy smiled a gracious, though still rather too queenly assent. I
+think the motion was pleasing her. Lively motion is very agreeable to
+her sex.
+
+"This is a very fast boat," said Mr. Talboys. "I should like to try
+her speed. What do you say, Miss Fountain?"
+
+"With all my heart," said Lucy, in a tone that expressed her utter
+indifference.
+
+"Here is this lateen-rigged boat creeping down on our quarter; we will
+stand east till she runs down to us, and then we will run by her and
+challenge her." Accordingly Talboys stood east.
+
+But he did not get his race; for, somewhat to his surprise, the
+lateen-rigged boat, instead of holding her course, which was about
+south-southwest, bore up directly and stood east, keeping about half a
+mile to windward of Talboys.
+
+This puzzled Talboys. "They are afraid to try it," said he. "If they
+are afraid of us sailing on a wind, they would not have much chance
+with us in beating to windward. A lugger can lie two points nearer the
+wind than a schooner."
+
+All this science was lost on Lucy. She lay back languid and listless.
+
+Mr. Talboy's crew consisted of a man and a boy. He steered the boat
+himself. He ordered them to go about and sail due west. It was no
+sooner done than, lo and behold, the schooner came about and sailed
+west, keeping always half a mile to windward.
+
+"That boat is following us, Miss Fountain."
+
+"What for?" inquired she; "is it my uncle coming after us?"
+
+"No; I see no one aboard but a couple of fishermen."
+
+"They are not fishermen," put in the boy; "they are
+sailors--coastguard men, likely."
+
+"Besides," said Mr. Talboys, "your uncle would run down to us at once,
+but these keep waiting on us and dogging us. Confound their
+impudence."
+
+"It is all fancy," said Lucy; "run away as fast as you can that way,"
+and she pointed down the wind, "and you will see nobody will take the
+trouble to run after us."
+
+"Hoist the mainsail," cried Talboys.
+
+They had hitherto been sailing under the foresail only. In another
+minute they were running furiously before the wind with both sails
+set. The boat yawed, and Lucy began to be nervous; still, the
+increased rapidity of motion excited her agreeably. The
+lateen-schooner, sailing under her fore-sail only, luffed directly and
+stood on in the lugger's wake. Lucy's cheek burned, but she said
+nothing.
+
+"There," cried Talboys, "now do you believe me? I think we gain on
+her, though."
+
+"We are going three knots to her two, sir," said the old man, "but it
+is by her good will; that is the fastest boat in the town, sailing on
+a wind; at beating to windward we could tackle her easy enough, but
+not at running free. Ah! there goes her mainsel up; I thought she
+would not be long before she gave us that."
+
+"Oh, how beautiful!" cried Lucy; "it is like a falcon or an eagle
+sailing down on us; it seems all wings. Why don't we spread wings too
+and fly away?"
+
+"You see, miss," explained the boatman, "that schooner works her sails
+different from us; going down wind she can carry her mainsel on one
+side of the craft and her foresel on the other. By that she keeps on
+an even keel, and, what is more, her mainsel does not take the wind
+out of her foresel. Bless you, that little schooner would run past the
+fastest frigate in the king's service with the wind dead aft as we
+have got it now; she is coming up with us hand over head, and as stiff
+on her keel as a rock; this is her point of sailing, beating to
+windward is ours. Why, if they ain't reefing the foresel, to make the
+race even; and there go three reefs into her mainsel too." The old
+boatman scratched his head.
+
+"Who is aboard her, Dick? they are strangers to me."
+
+By taking in so many reefs the lateen had lowered her rate of sailing,
+and she now followed in their wake, keeping a quarter of a mile to
+windward.
+
+Talboys lost all patience. "Who is it, I wonder, that has the
+insolence to dog us so?" and he looked keenly at Miss Fountain.
+
+She did not think herself bound to reply, and gazed with a superior
+air of indifference on the sky and the water.
+
+"I will soon know," said Talboys.
+
+"What does it matter?" inquired Lucy. "Probably somebody who is
+wasting his time as we are."
+
+"The road we are on is as free to him as to us," suggested the old
+boatman, with a fine sense of natural justice. He added, "But if you
+will take my advice, sir, you will shorten sail, and put her about for
+home. It is blowing half a gale of wind, and the sea will be getting
+up, and that won't be agreeable for the young lady."
+
+"Gale of wind? Nonsense," said Talboys; "it is a fine breeze."
+
+"Oh, thank you, sir," said Lucy to the old man; "I love the sea, but I
+should not like to be out in a storm."
+
+The old boatman grinned. "'Storm is a word that an old salt reserves
+for one of those hurricanes that blow a field of turnips flat, and
+teeth down your throat. You can turn round and lean your back against
+it like a post; and a carrion-crow making for the next parish gets
+fanned into another county. That is a storm."
+
+The old boatman went forward grinning, and he and his boy lowered the
+mainsail. Then Talboys at the helm brought the boat's head round to
+the wind. She came down to her bearings directly, which is as much as
+to say that to Lucy she seemed to be upsetting.
+
+Lucy gave a little scream. The sail, too, made a report like the crack
+of a pistol.
+
+"Oh, what is that?" cried Lucy.
+
+"Wind, mum," replied the boatman, composedly.
+
+"What is that purple line on the water, sir, out there, a long way
+beyond the other boat?
+
+"Wind, mum."
+
+"It seems to move. It is coming this way."
+
+"Ay, mum, that is a thing that always makes to leeward," said the old
+fellow, grinning. "I'll take in a couple of reefs before it comes to
+us."
+
+Meantime, the moment the lugger lowered her mainsail, the schooner,
+divining, as it appeared, her intention, did the same, and luffed
+immediately, and was on the new tack first of the two.
+
+"Ay, my lass," said the old boatman, "you are smartly handled, no
+doubt, but your square stern and your try-hanglar sail they will take
+you to leeward of us pretty soon, do what you can."
+
+The event seemed to justify this assertion; the little lugger was on
+her best point of sailing, and in about ten minutes the distance
+between the two boats was slightly but sensibly diminished. The
+lateen, no doubt, observed this, for she began to play the game of
+short tacks, and hoisted her mainsail, and carried on till she seemed
+to sail on her beam-ends, to make up, as far as possible, by speed and
+smartness for what she lost by rig in beating to windward.
+
+"They go about quicker than we do," said Talboys.
+
+"Of course they do; they have not got to dip their sail, as we have,
+every time we tack."
+
+This was the true solution, but Mr. Talboys did not accept it.
+
+"We are not so smart as we ought to be. Now you go to the helm, and I
+and the boy will dip the lug."
+
+The old boatman took the helm as requested, and gave the word of
+command to Mr. Talboys. "Stand _by_ the foretack."
+
+"Yes," said Mr. Talboys, "here I am."
+
+"Let _go_ the fore-tack"; and, contemporaneously with the order,
+he brought the boat's head round.
+
+Now this operation is always a nice one, particularly in these small
+luggers, where the lug has to be dipped, that is to say, lowered, and
+raised again on the opposite side of the mast; for the lug should not
+be lowered a moment too soon, or the boat, losing her way, would not
+come round; nor a moment too late, lest the sail, owing to the new
+position the boat is taking under the influence of the rudder, should
+receive the wind while between the wind and the mast, and so the craft
+be taken aback, than which nothing can well happen more disastrous.
+
+Mr. Talboys, though not the accomplished sailor he thought himself,
+knew this as well as anybody, and with the boy's help he lowered the
+sail at the right moment; but, getting his head awkwardly in the way,
+the yard, in coming down, hit him on the nose and nearly knocked him
+on to his beam-ends. It would have been better if it had done so quite
+instead of bounding off his nose on to his shoulder and there resting;
+for, as it was, the descent of the sail being thus arrested half-way
+at the critical moment, and the boat's head coming round all the same,
+a gust of wind caught the sail and wrapped it tight round the mast to
+windward. The boy uttered a cry of terror so significant that Lucy
+trembled all over, and by an uncontrollable impulse leaned
+despairingly back and waved her white handkerchief toward the
+antagonist boat. The old boatman with an oath darted forward with an
+agility he could not have shown ashore.
+
+The effect on the craft was alarming. If the whole sail had been thus
+taken aback, she would have gone down like lead; for, as it was, she
+was driven on her side and at the same time driven back by the stern;
+the whole sea seemed to rise an inch above her gunwale; the water
+poured into her at every drive the gusts of wind gave her, and the
+only wonder seemed why the waves did not run clean over her.
+
+In vain the old boatman, cursing and swearing, tugged at the canvas to
+free it from the mast. It was wrapped round it like Dejanira's shirt,
+and with as fatal an effect; the boat was filling; and as this brought
+her lower in the water, and robbed her of much of her buoyancy, and as
+the fatal cause continued immovable, her destruction was certain.
+
+Every cheek was blanched with fear but Lucy's, and hers was red as
+fire ever since she waved her handkerchief; so powerful is modesty
+with her sex. A true virgin can blush in death's very grasp.
+
+In the midst of this agitation and terror, suddenly the boat was
+hailed. They all looked up, and there was the lateen coming tearing
+down on them under all her canvas, both her broad sails spread out to
+the full, one on each side. She seemed all monstrous wing. The lugger
+being now nearly head to wind, she came flying down on her weather bow
+as if to run past her, then, lowering her foresail, made a broad
+sweep, and brought up suddenly between the lugger and the wind. As her
+foresail fell, a sailor bounded over it on to the forecastle, and
+stood there with one foot on the gunwale, active as Mercury, eye
+glowing, and a rope in his hand.
+
+"Stand by to lower your mast," roared this sailor in a voice of
+thunder to the boatman of the lugger; and the moment the schooner came
+up into the wind athwart the lugger's bows he bounded over ten feet of
+water into her, and with a turn of the hand made the rope fast to her
+thwart, then hauling upon it, brought her alongside with her head
+literally under the schooner's wing.
+
+He and the old boatman then instantly unstepped the mast and laid it
+down in the boat, sail and all. It was not his great strength that
+enabled them to do this (a dozen of him could not have done it while
+the wind pressed on the mast); it was his address in taking all the
+wind out of the lug by means of the schooner's mainsail. The old man
+never said a word till the work was done; then he remarked, "That was
+clever of you."
+
+The new-comer took no notice whatever. "Reef that sail, Jack," he
+cried; "it will be in the lady's face by and by; and heave your bailer
+in here; their boat is full of water."
+
+"Not so full as it would if you hadn't brought up alongside," said the
+old boatman.
+
+"Do you want to frighten the lady?" replied the sailor, in his driest
+and least courtier-like way.
+
+"I am not frightened, Mr. Dodd," said Lucy. "I was, but I am not now."
+
+"Come and help me get the water out of her, Jack. Stay! Miss Fountain
+had better step into the dry boat, meantime. Now, Jack, look alive;
+lash her longside aft."
+
+This done, the two sailors, one standing on the lugger's gunwale, one
+on the schooner's, handed Miss Fountain into the schooner, and gave
+her the cushions of the lugger to sit upon. They then went to work
+with a will, and bailed half a ton of water out.
+
+When she was dry David jumped back into his own boat. "Now, Miss
+Fountain, your boat is dry, but the sea is getting up, and I think, if
+I were you, I would stay where you are."
+
+"I mean to," said the lady, calmly. "Mr. Talboys, _would_ you
+mind coming into this boat? We shall be safer here; it--it is larger."
+
+The gentleman thus addressed was embarrassed between two
+mortifications, one on each side him. If he came into David's boat he
+would be second fiddle, he who had gone out of port first fiddle. If
+he stuck to the lugger Lucy would go off with Dodd, and he would look
+like a fool coming ashore without her. He hesitated.
+
+David got impatient. "Come, sir," he cried, "don't you hear the lady
+invite you? and every moment is precious." And he held out his hand to
+him.
+
+Talboys decided on taking it, and he even unbent so far as to jump
+vigorously--so vigorously that, David pulling him with force at the
+same moment, he came flying into the schooner like a cannon-ball, and,
+toppling over on his heels, went down on the seat with his head
+resting on the weather gunwale, and his legs at a right angle with his
+back.
+
+"That is one way of boarding a craft," muttered David, a little
+discontentedly; then to the old boatman: "Here, fling us that
+tarpaulin. I say, here is more wind coming; are you sure you can work
+that lugger, you two?"
+
+"We will be ashore before you can, now there's nobody to bother us,"
+was the prompt reply.
+
+"Then cast loose; here we are, drifting out to sea."
+
+The old man cast the rope loose; David hauled it on board, and the
+schooner shot away from her companion and bore up north-north-west,
+leaving the luggar rocking from side to side on the rising waves. But
+the next minute Lucy saw her sail rise, and she bore up and stood
+northeast.
+
+"Good-by to you, little horror," said Lucy.
+
+"We shall fall in with her a good many times more before we make the
+land," said David Dodd.
+
+Lucy inquired what he meant; but he had fallen to hauling the sheet
+aft and making the sail stand flatter, and did not answer her. Indeed,
+he seemed much more taken up with Jack than with her, and, above all,
+entirely absorbed in the business of sailing the boat.
+
+She was a little mortified at this behavior, and held her tongue.
+Talboys was sulky, and held his. It was a curious situation. In the
+hurry and bustle, none of the parties had realized it; but now, as the
+boat breasted the waves, and all was silent on board, they had time to
+review their position.
+
+Talboys grew gloomier and gloomier at the poor figure he cut. Lucy
+kept blushing at intervals as she reflected on the obligation she had
+laid herself under to a rejected lover. The rejected lover alone
+seemed to mind his business and nothing else; and, as he was almost
+ludicrously unconscious that he was doing a chivalrous action, a
+misfortune to which those who do these things are singularly liable,
+he did not gild the transaction with a single graceful speech, and
+permitted himself to be more occupied with the sails than with rescued
+beauty.
+
+Succeeding events, however, explained, and in some degree excused,
+this commonplace behavior.
+
+The next time they tacked some spray came flying in, and wetted all
+hands. Lucy laughed. The lugger had also tacked, and the two boats
+were now standing toward each other; when they met the lugger had
+weathered on them some sixty or seventy yards.
+
+A furious rain now came on almost horizontally, and the sailors
+arranged the tarpaulin so as to protect Mr. Talboys and Miss Fountain.
+
+"But you will be wet through yourself, Mr. Dodd. Will you not come
+under shelter too?"
+
+"And who is to sail the boat?" He added, "I am glad to see the rain. I
+hope it will still the wind; if it doesn't, we shall have to try
+something else, that is all."
+
+"Pray, when do you undertake to land us, Mr. Dodd?" inquired Mr.
+Talboys, superciliously.
+
+"Well, sir, if it does not blow any harder, about eight bells."
+
+"Eight bells? Why, that means midnight," exclaimed Talboys.
+
+"Wind and tide both dead against us," replied David, coolly.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Dodd, tell me the truth: is there any danger?"
+
+"Danger? Not that I see; but it is very uncomfortable, and unbecoming,
+for you to be beating to windward against the tide for so many hours,
+when you ought to be sitting on the sofa at home. However, next time
+you run out of port, I hope those that take charge of you will look to
+the almanac for the tide, and look to windward for the weather: Jack,
+the lugger lies nearer the wind than we do.
+
+"A little, sir."
+
+"Will you take the helm a minute, Mr. Talboys? and _you_ come
+forward and unbend this." The two sailors put their heads together
+amidships, and spoke in an undertone. "The wind is rising with the
+rain instead of falling."
+
+"'Seems so, sir."
+
+"What do you think yourself?"
+
+"Well, sir, it has been blowing harder and harder ever since we came
+out, and very steady."
+
+"It will turn out one of those dry nor'easters, Jack."
+
+"I shouldn't wonder, sir. I wish she was cutter-rigged, sir. A boat
+has no business to be any other rig but cutter; there ought to be a
+nact o' parliam't against these outlandish rigs."
+
+"I don't know; I have seen wonders done with this lateen rig in the
+Pacific."
+
+"The lugger forereaches on us, sir."
+
+"A little, but, for all that, I am glad she is on board our craft; we
+have got more beam, and, if it comes to the worst, we can run. The
+lugger can't with her sharp stern. I'll go to the helm."
+
+Just as David was stepping aft to take the helm, a wave struck the
+boat hard on the weather bow, close to the gunwale, and sent a bucket
+of salt water flying all over him; he never turned his head even--took
+no more notice of it than a rock does when the sea spits at it. Lucy
+shrieked and crouched behind the tarpaulin. David took the helm, and,
+seeing Talboys white, said kindly: "Why don't you go forward, sir, and
+make yourself snug under the folksel deck? she is sure to wet us abaft
+before we can make the land."
+
+No. Talboys resisted his inclination and the deadly nausea that was
+creeping over him.
+
+"Thank you, but I like to see what is going on; and" (with an heroic
+attempt at sea-slang) "I like a wet boat."
+
+They now fell in with the lugger again lying on the opposite tack, and
+a hundred yards at least to windward.
+
+Just before they crossed her wake David sang out to Jack:
+
+"Our masts--are they sound?"
+
+"Bran-new, sir; best Norway pine."
+
+"What d'ye think?"
+
+"Think we are wasting time and daylight."
+
+"Then stand _by_ the main sheet."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+_"Slack_ the main sheet."
+
+"Ay, ay, sir."
+
+The boat instantly fell off into the wind, and, as she went round,
+David stood up in the stern-sheets and waved his cap to the men on
+board the lugger, who were watching him. The old man was seen to shake
+his head in answer to the signal, and point to his lug-sail standing
+flat as a board, and the next moment they parted company, and the
+lateen was running close-reefed before the wind.
+
+Mr. Talboys was sitting collapsed in the lethargy that precedes
+seasickness. He started up. "What are you doing?" he shrieked.
+
+"Keep quiet, sir, and don't bother," said David, with calm sternness,
+and in his deepest tones.
+
+"Pray don't interfere with Mr. Dodd," said Lucy; "he must know best."
+
+"You don't see what he is doing, then," cried Talboys, wildly; "the
+madman is taking us out to sea."
+
+"Are you taking us out to sea, Mr. Dodd?" inquired Lucy, with dismay.
+
+"I am doing according to my judgment of tide and wind, and the
+abilities of the craft I am sailing," said David, firmly; "and on
+board my own craft I am skipper, and skipper I will be. Go forward,
+sir, if you please, and don't speak except to obey orders."
+
+Mr. Talboys, sick, despondent and sulky, went gloomily forward, coiled
+himself up under the forecastle deck, and was silent and motionless.
+
+"Don't send me," cried Lucy, "for I will not go. Nothing but your eye
+keeps up my courage. I don't mind the water," added she, hastily and a
+little timidly, anxious to meet every reason that could be urged for
+imprisoning her in the forecastle hold.
+
+"You are all right where you are, miss," said Jack, cheerfully; "we
+shan't have no more spray come aboard us; it won't come in by the can
+full if it doesn't come by the ton."
+
+"Will you belay your jaw?" roared David, in a fury that Lucy did not
+comprehend at the time. "What a set of tarnation babblers in one
+little boat."
+
+"I won't speak any more, Mr. Dodd; I won't speak."
+
+"Bless your heart, it isn't you I meant. 'Twould be hard if a lady
+might not put her word in. But a man is different. I do love to see a
+man belay his jaw, and wait for orders, and then do his duty; hoist
+the mainsel, you!"
+
+"Ay, ay, sir."
+
+"Shake out a couple of reefs."
+
+"Ay, ay, sir."
+
+And the lateen spread both her great wings like an albatross, and
+leaped and plunged, and flew before the mighty gale.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+"THIS is nice. The boat does not upset or tumble as it did. It only
+courtesies and plunges. I like it."
+
+"The sea has not got up yet, miss," said Jack.
+
+"Hasn't it? the waves seem very large."
+
+"Lord love you, wait till we have had four or five hours more of
+this."
+
+"Belay your jaw, Jack."
+
+"Ay, ay, sir."
+
+"Why so, Mr. Dodd?" objected Lucy gently. "I am not so weak as you
+think me. Do not keep the truth from me. I share the danger; let me
+share the sense of danger, too. You shall not blush for me."
+
+"Danger? There is not a grain of it, unless we make danger by
+inattention--and babbling."
+
+"You will not do that," said Lucy.
+
+Equivoque missed fire.
+
+"Not while you are on board," replied David, simply.
+
+Lucy felt inclined to give him her hand. She had it out half-way; but
+he had lately asked her to marry him, so she drew it back, and her
+eyes rested on the bottom of the boat.
+
+The wind rose higher. The masts bent so that each sail had every
+possible reef taken in. Her canvas thus reduced she scudded as fast as
+before, such was now the fury of the gale. The sea rose so that the
+boat seemed to mount with each wave as high as the second story of a
+house, and go down again to the cellar at every plunge. Talboys,
+prostrated by seasickness in the forehold, lay curled but motionless,
+like a crooked log, and almost as indifferent to life or death. Lucy,
+pale but firm, put no more questions that she felt would not be
+answered, but scanned David Dodd's face furtively yet closely. The
+result was encouraging to her. His cheek was not pale, as she felt her
+own. On the contrary, it was slightly flushed; his eye bright and
+watchful, but lion-like. He gave a word or two of command to Jack
+every now and then very sharply, but without the slightest shade of
+agitation, and Jack's "ay, ay" came back as sharply, but cheerfully.
+
+The principal feature she discerned in both sailors was a very
+attentive, business-like manner. The romantic air with which heroes
+face danger in story was entirely absent; and so, being convinced by
+his yarns that David _was_ a hero, she inferred that their
+situation could not be dangerous, but, as David himself had inferred,
+merely one in which watchfulness was requisite.
+
+
+The sun went down red and angry. The night came on dark and howling.
+No moon. A murky sky, like a black bellying curtain above, and huge
+ebony waves, that in the appalling blackness seemed all crested with
+devouring fire, hemmed in the tossing boat, and growled, and snarled,
+and raged above, below, and around her.
+
+Then, in that awful hour, Lucy Fountain felt her littleness and the
+littleness of man. She cowered and trembled.
+
+The sailors, rough but tender nurses, wrapped shawls round her one
+above the other, "to make her snug for the night," they said. They
+seemed to her to be mocking her. "Snug? Who could hope to outlive such
+a fearful night? and what did it matter whether she was drowned in one
+shawl or a dozen?"
+
+David being amidships, bailing the boat out, and Jack at the helm, she
+took the opportunity, and got very close to the latter, and said in
+his ear--
+
+"Mr. Jack, we are in danger."
+
+"Not exactly in danger, miss; but, of course, we must mind our eye.
+But I have often been where I have had to mind my eye, and hope to be
+again."
+
+"Mr. Jack," said Lucy, shivering, "what is our danger? Tell me the
+nature of it, then I shall not be so cowardly; will the boat break?"
+
+"Lord bless you, no."
+
+"Will it upset?"
+
+"No fear of that."
+
+"Will not the sea swallow us?"
+
+"No, miss. How can the sea swallow us? She rides like a cork, and
+there is the skipper bailing her out, to make her lighter still. No;
+I'll tell you, miss; all we have got to mind is two things; we must
+not let her broach to, and we must not get pooped."
+
+"But _why_ must we not?"
+
+"_Why?_ Because we _mustn't."_
+
+"But I mean, what would be the consequence of--broaching to?"
+
+Jack opened his eyes in astonishment. "Why, the sea would run over her
+quarter, and swamp her."
+
+"Oh!! And if we get pooped?"
+
+"We shall go to Davy Jones, like a bullet."
+
+"Who is Davy Jones?"
+
+"The Old One, you know--down below. Leastways you won't go there,
+miss; you will go aloft, and perhaps the skipper; but Davy will have
+me; so I won't give him a chance, if I can help it."
+
+Lucy cried.
+
+"Where are we, Mr. Jack?"
+
+"British Channel."
+
+"I know that; but whereabouts?"
+
+"Heaven knows; and no doubt the skipper, he knows; but I don't. I am
+only a common sailor. Shall I hail the skipper? he will tell you."
+
+"No, no, no. He is so angry if we speak."
+
+"He won't be angry if you speak to him, miss," said Jack, with a sly
+grin, that brought a faint color into Lucy's cheek; "you should have
+seen him, how anxious he was about you before we came alongside; and
+the moment that lubber went forward to dip the lug, says he, 'Jack,
+there will be mischief; up mainsail and run down to them. I have no
+confidence in that tall boy.' (He do seem a long, weedy, useless sort
+of lubber.) Lord bless you, miss, we luffed, and were running down to
+you long before you made the signal of distress with your little white
+flag." Lucy's cheeks got redder. "No, miss, if the skipper speaks
+severe to you, Jack Painter is blind with one eye, and can't see with
+t'other."
+
+Lucy's cheeks were carnation.
+
+But the next moment they were white, for a terrible event interrupted
+this chat. Two huge waves rolled one behind the other, an occurrence
+which luckily is not frequent; the boat, descending into the valley of
+the sea, had the wind taken out of her sails by the high wave that was
+coming. Her sails flapped, she lost her speed, and, as she rose again,
+the second wave was a moment too quick for her, and its combing crest
+caught her. The first thing Lucy saw was Jack running from the helm
+with a loud cry of fear, followed by what looked an arch of fire, but
+sounded like a lion rushing, growling on its prey, and directly her
+feet and ankles were in a pool of water. David bounded aft, swearing
+and splashing through it, and it turned into sparks of white fire
+flying this way and that. He seized the helm, and discharged a loud
+volley of curses at Jack.
+
+"Fling out ballast, ye d--d cowardly, useless lubber," cried he; and
+while Jack, who had recoiled into his normal state of nerves with
+almost ridiculous rapidity, was heaving out ballast, David discharged
+another rolling volley at him.
+
+"Oh, pray don't!" cried Lucy, trembling like an aspen leaf. "Oh,
+think! we shall soon be in the presence of our Maker--of Him whose
+name you--"
+
+"Not we," cried David, with broad, cheerful incredulity; "we have lots
+more mischief to do--that lubber and I. And if he thinks he is going
+there, let him end like a man, not like a skulking lubber, running
+from the helm, and letting the craft come up in the wind."
+
+"No, no, it was the sea he ran from. Who would not?"
+
+"The lubber! If it had been a tiger or a bear I'd say nothing; but
+what is the use of trying to run from the sea? Should have stuck to
+his post, and set that thundering back of his up--it's broad
+enough--and kept the sea out of your boots. The sea, indeed! I have
+seen the sea come on board me, and clear the deck fore and aft, but it
+didn't come in the shape of a cupful o' water and a spoonful o' foam."
+Here David's wrath and contempt were interrupted by Jack singing
+waggishly at his work,
+
+           "Cease--rude Boreas--blustering--railer!!"
+
+At which sly hit David was pleased, and burst into a loud, boisterous
+laugh.
+
+Lucy put her hands to her ears. "Oh, don't! don't! this is worse than
+your blasphemies--laughing on the brink of eternity; these are not
+men--they are devils."
+
+"Do you hear that, Jack? Come, you behave!" roared David.
+
+A faint snarl from Talboys. The water had penetrated him, and roused
+him from a state of sick torpor; he lay in a tidy little pool some
+eight inches deep.
+
+The boat was bailed and lightened, but Lucy's fears were not set at
+rest. What was to hinder the recurrence of the same danger, and with
+more fatal effect? She timidly asked David's permission to let her
+keep the sea out. Instead of snubbing her as she expected, David
+consented with a sort of paternal benevolence tinged with incredulity.
+She then developed her plan; it was, that David, Jack, and she should
+sit in a triangle, and hold the tarpaulin out to windward and fence
+the ocean out. Jack, being summoned aft to council, burst into a
+hoarse laugh; but David checked him.
+
+"There is more in it than you see, Jack--more than she sees, perhaps.
+My only doubt is whether it is possible; but you can try."
+
+Lucy and Jack then tried to get the tarpaulin out to windward; instead
+of which, it carried them to leeward by the force of the wind. The
+mast brought them up, or Heaven knows where their new invention would
+have taken them. With infinite difficulty they got it down and kneeled
+upon it, and even then it struggled. But Lucy would not be defeated;
+she made Jack gather it up in the middle, and roll it first to the
+right, then to the left, till it became a solid roll with two narrow
+open edges. They then carried it abaft, and lowered it vertically over
+the stern-port; then suddenly turned it round, and sat down. "Crack!"
+the wind opened it, and wrapped it round the boat and the trio.
+
+"Hallo!" cried David, "it is foul of the rudder;" and, he whipped out
+his knife and made a slit in the stuff. It now clung like a blister.
+
+"There, Mr. Dodd, will not that keep the sea out?" asked Lucy,
+triumphantly.
+
+"At any rate, it may help to keep us ahead of the sea. Why, Jack, I
+seem to feel it lift her; it is as good as a mizzen."
+
+"But, oh, Mr. Dodd, there is another danger. We may broach to."
+
+"How can she broach to when I am at the helm? Here is the arm that
+won't let her broach to."
+
+"Then I feel safe."
+
+"You are as safe as on your own sofa; it is the discomfort you are put
+to that worries me."
+
+"Don't think so meanly of me, Mr. Dodd. If it was not for my
+cowardice, I should enjoy this voyage far more than the luxurious ease
+you think so dear to me. I despise it."
+
+
+"Mr. Dodd, now I am no longer afraid. I am, oh, so sleepy."
+
+"No wonder--go to sleep. It is the best thing you can do."
+
+"Thank you, sir. I am aware my conversation is not very interesting."
+Having administered this sudden bloodless scratch, to show that, at
+sea or ashore, in fair weather or foul, she retained her sex, Lucy
+disposed herself to sleep.
+
+David, steering the boat with his left hand, arranged the cushion with
+his right. She settled herself to sleep, for an irresistible
+drowsiness had followed the many hours of excitement she had gone
+through. Twice the heavy plunging sea brought her into light contact
+with David. She instantly awoke, and apologized to him with gentle
+dismay for taking so audacious a liberty with that great man,
+commander of the vessel; the third time she said nothing, a sure sign
+she was unconscious.
+
+Then David, for fear she might hurt herself, curled his arm around
+her, and let her head decline upon his shoulder. Her bonnet fell off;
+he put it reverently on the other side the helm. The air now cleared,
+but the gale increased rather than diminished. And now the moon rose
+large and bright. The boat and masts stood out like white stone-work
+against the flint-colored sky, and the silver light played on Lucy's
+face. There she lay, all unconscious of her posture, on the man's
+shoulder who loved her, and whom she had refused; her head thrown back
+in sweet helplessness, her rich hair streaming over David's shoulder,
+her eyes closed, but the long, lovely lashes meeting so that the
+double fringe was as speaking as most eyes, and her lips half open in
+an innocent smile. The storm was no storm to her now. She slept the
+sleep of childhood, of innocence and peace; and David gazed and gazed
+on her, and joy and tenderness almost more than human thrilled through
+him, and the storm was no storm to him either; he forgot the past,
+despised the future, and in the delirium of his joy blessed the sea
+and the wind, and wished for nothing but, instead of the Channel, a
+boundless ocean, and to sail upon it thus, her bosom tenderly grazing
+him, and her lovely head resting on his shoulder, for ever, and ever,
+and ever.
+
+
+Thus they sailed on two hours and more, and Jack now began to nod.
+
+All of a sudden Lucy awoke, and, opening her eyes, surprised David
+gazing at her with tenderness unspeakable. Awaking possessed with the
+notion that she was sleeping at home on a bed of down, she looked
+dumfounded an instant; but David's eyes soon sent the blood into her
+cheek. Her whole supple person turned eel-like, and she glided
+quickly, but not the least bruskly, from him; the latter might have
+seemed discourteous.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Dodd," she cried, "what am I doing?"
+
+"You have been getting a nice sleep, thank Heaven."
+
+"Yes, and making use of you even in my sleep; but we all impose on
+your goodness."
+
+"Why did you awake? You were happy; you felt no care, and I was happy
+seeing you so."
+
+Lucy's eyes filled. "Kind, true friend," she murmured, "how can I ever
+thank you as I ought? I little deserved that you should watch over my
+safety as you have done, and, alas! risk your own. Any other but you
+would have borne me malice, and let me perish, and said, 'It serves
+her right.'"
+
+"Malice! Miss Lucy. What for, in Heaven's name?"
+
+"For--for the affront I put upon you; for the--the honor I declined."
+
+"Hate cannot lie alongside love in a true heart."
+
+"I see it cannot in a noble one. And then you are so generous. You
+have never once recurred to that unfortunate topic; yet you have
+gained a right to request me--to reconsider--Mr. Dodd, you have saved
+my life!!"
+
+"What! do you praise me because I don't take a mean advantage? That
+would not be behaving like a man."
+
+"I don't know that. You overrate your sex--and mine. We don't deserve
+such generosity. The proof is, we reward those who are not
+so--delicate."
+
+"I don't trouble my head about your sex. They are nothing to me, and
+never will be. If you think I have done my duty like a man, and as
+much like a gentleman as my homely education permits, that is enough
+for me, and I shall sail for China as happy as anything on earth can
+make me now."
+
+Lucy answered this by crying gently, silently, tenderly.
+
+"Don't ye cry. Have I said something to vex you?"
+
+"Oh no, no."
+
+"Are you alarmed still?"
+
+"Oh, no; I have such faith in you."
+
+"Then go to sleep again, like a lamb."
+
+"I will; then I shall not tease you with my conversation."
+
+"Now there is a way to put it."
+
+"Forgive me."
+
+"That I will, if you will take some repose. There, I will lash you to
+my arm with this handkerchief; then you can lie the other way, and
+hold on by the handkerchief--there."
+
+She closed her eyes and fell apparently to sleep, but really to
+thinking.
+
+Then David nudged Jack, and waked him. "Speak low now, Jack."
+
+"What is it, sir?"
+
+"Land ahead."
+
+Jack looked out, and there was a mountain of jet rising out of the
+sea, and, to a landsman's eye, within a stone's throw of them.
+
+"Is it the French coast, sir? I must have been asleep."
+
+"French coast? no, Channel Island--smallest of the lot."
+
+"Better give it a wide berth, sir. We shall go smash like a teacup if
+we run on to one of them rocky islands."
+
+"Why, Jack," said David, reproachfully, "am I the man to run upon a
+leeshore, and such a night as this?"
+
+"Not likely. You will keep her head for Cherbourg or St. Malo, sir; it
+is our only chance."
+
+"It is not our only chance, nor our best. We have been running a
+little ahead of this gale, Jack; there is worse in store for us; the
+sea is rolling mountains high on the French coast this morning, I
+know. We are like enough to be pooped before we get there, or swamped
+on some harbor-bar at last."
+
+"Well, sir, we must take our chance."
+
+"Take our chance? What! with heads on our shoulders, and an angel on
+board that Heaven has given us charge of? No, I sha'n't take my
+chance. I shall try all I know, and hang on to life by my eyelids.
+Listen to me. 'Knowledge is gold;' a little of it goes a long way. I
+don't know much myself, but I do know the soundings of the British
+Channel. I have made them my study. On the south side of this rocky
+point there is forty fathoms water close to the shore, and good
+anchorage-ground."
+
+"Then I wish we could jump over the thundering island, and drop on the
+lee side of it; but, as we can't, what's the use?"
+
+"We may be able to round the point."
+
+"There will be an awful sea running off that point, sir."
+
+"Of course there will. I mean to try it, for all that."
+
+"So be it, sir; that is what I like to hear. I hate palaver. Let one
+give his orders, and the rest obey them. We are not above half a mile
+from it now."
+
+"You had better wake the landsman. We must have a third hand for
+this."
+
+"No," said a woman's voice, sweet, but clear and unwavering. "I shall
+be the third hand."
+
+"Curse it," cried David, "she has heard us."
+
+"Every word. And I have no confidence in Mr. Talboys; and, believe me,
+I am more to be trusted than he is. See, my cowardice is all worn out.
+Do but trust me, and you shall find I want neither courage nor
+intelligence."
+
+David eyed her keenly, and full in the face. She met his glance
+calmly, with her fine nostrils slightly expanding, and her compressed
+lip curving proudly.
+
+"It is all right, Jack. It is not a flash in the pan. She is as steady
+as a rock." He then addressed her rapidly and business-like, but with
+deference. "You will stand by the helm on this side, and the moment I
+run forward, you will take the helm and hold it in this position. That
+will require all your strength. Come, try it. Well done."
+
+"How the sea struggles with me! But I am strong, you see," cried Lucy,
+her brow flushed with the battle.
+
+"Very good; you are strong, and, what is better, resolute. Now,
+observe me: this is port, this is starboard, and this is amidships."
+
+"I see; but how am I to know which to do?"'
+
+"I shall give you the word of command."
+
+"And all I have to do is to obey it?"
+
+"That is all; but you will find it enough, because the sea will seem
+to fight you. It will shake the boat to make you leave go, and will
+perhaps dash in your face to make you leave go."
+
+"Forewarned, forearmed, Mr. Dodd. I will not let go. I will hold on by
+my eyelids sooner than add to your danger."
+
+"Jack, she is on fire; she gives me double heart."
+
+"So she does me. She makes it a pleasure."
+
+They were now near enough the point to judge what they had to do, and
+the appearance of the sea was truly terrible; the waves were all
+broken, and a surge of devouring fire seemed to rage and roar round
+the point, and oppose an impassable barrier between them and the inky
+pool beyond, where safety lay under the lee of the high rocks.
+
+"I don't like it," said David. "It looks to me like going through a
+strip of hell fire."
+
+"But it is narrow," said Lucy.
+
+"That is our chance; and the tide is coming in. We will try it. She
+will drench us, but I don't much think she will swamp us. Are you
+ready, all hands?"
+
+"Oh! please wait a minute, till I do up my hair."
+
+"Take a minute, but no more."
+
+"There, it is done. Mr. Dodd, one word. If all should fail, and death
+be inevitable, tell me so just before we perish, and I shall have
+something to say to you. Now, I am ready."
+
+"Jump forward, Jack."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Stand by to jibe the foresail."
+
+"Ay, ay, sir."
+
+"See our sweeps all clear."
+
+"Ay."
+
+David now handled the main sheet, and at the same time looked
+earnestly at Lucy, who met his eye with a look of eager attention.
+
+"Starboard a little. That will do. Steady--steady as you go," As the
+boat yielded to the helm, Jack gathered in on the sheet, took two
+turns round the cleat, and eased away till the sail drew its best: so
+far so good. Both sails were now on the same side of the boat, the
+wind on her port quarter; but now came the dangerous operation of
+coming to the wind, in a rough and broken sea, among the eddies of
+wind and tide so prevalent off headlands. David, with the main sheet
+in his right hand, directed Lucy with his left as well as his voice.
+
+"Starboard the helm--starboard yet--now meet her--so!" and, as she
+rounded to Jack and he kept hauling the sheets aft, and the boat, her
+course and trim altered, darted among the breakers like a brave man
+attacking danger. After the first plunge she went up and down like a
+pickax, coming down almost where she went up; but she held her course,
+with the waves roaring round her like a pack of hell-hounds.
+
+More than half the terrible strip was passed. "Starboard yet," cried
+David; and she headed toward the high mainland under whose lee was
+calm and safety. Alas! at this moment a snorter of a sea broke under
+her broadside, and hove her to leeward like a cork, and a tide eddy
+catching her under the counter, she came to more than two points, and
+her canvas, thus emptied, shook enough to tear the masts out of her by
+the board.
+
+"Port your helm! PORT! PORT!" roared David, in a voice like the roar
+of a wounded lion; and, in his anxiety, he bounded to the helm
+himself; but Lucy obeyed orders at half a word, and David, seeing
+this, sprang forward to help Jack flatten in the foresheet. The boat,
+which all through answered the helm beautifully, fell off the moment
+Lucy ported the helm, and thus they escaped the impending and terrible
+danger of her making sternway. "Helm amidships!" and all drew again:
+the black water was in sight. But will they ever reach it? She tosses
+like a cork. Bang! A breaker caught her bows, and drenched David and
+Jack to the very bone. She quivered like an aspen-leaf but held on.
+
+"Starboard one point," cried David, sitting down, and lifting an oar
+out from the boat; but just as Lucy, in obeying the order, leaned a
+little over the lee gunwale with the tiller, a breaker broke like a
+shell upon the boat's broadside abaft, stove in her upper plank, and
+filled her with water; some flew and slapped Lucy in the face like an
+open hand. She screamed, but clung to the gunwale, and griped the
+helm: her arm seemed iron, and her heart was steel. While she clung
+thus to her work, blinded by the spray, and expecting death, she heard
+oars splash into the water, and mellow stentorian voices burst out
+singing.
+
+In amazement she turned, squeezed the brine out of her eyes, and
+looked all round, and lo! the boat was in a trifling bobble of a sea,
+and close astern was the surge of fire raging, and growling, and
+blazing in vain, and the two sailors were pulling the boat, with
+superhuman strength and inspiration, into a monster mill-pool that now
+lay right ahead, black as ink and smooth as oil, singing loudly as
+they rowed:
+
+         "Cheerily oh oh! (pull) cheerily oh oh! (pull)
+          To port we go oh (pull), to port we go (pull)."
+
+FLARE!! a great flaming eye opened on them in the center of the
+universal blackness.
+
+"Look! look!" cried Lucy; "a fire in the mountain."
+
+It was the lantern of a French sloop anchored close to the shore. The
+crew had heard the sailors' voices. At sight of it David and Jack
+cheered so lustily that Talboys crawled out of the water and glared
+vaguely. The sailors pulled under the sloop's lee quarter: a couple of
+ropes were instantly lowered, the lantern held aloft, ruby heads and
+hands clustered at the gangway, and in another minute the boat's party
+were all upon deck, under a hailstorm of French, and the boat fast to
+her stern.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+THE skipper of the ship, hearing a commotion on deck, came up, and,
+taking off his cap, made Lucy a bow in a style remote from an English
+sailor's. She courtesied to him, and, to his surprise, addressed him
+in Parisian French. When he learned she was from England, and had
+rounded that point in an open boat, he was astonished.
+
+"Diables d'Anglais!" said he.
+
+The good-natured Frenchman insisted on Lucy taking sole possession of
+his cabin, in which was a cheerful stove. His crew were just as kind
+to David, Jack, and Talboys. This latter now resumed his right
+place--at the head of mankind; being the only one who could talk
+French, he interpreted for his companions. He improved upon my
+narrative in one particular: he led the Frenchmen to suppose it was he
+who had sailed the boat from England, and weathered the point. Who can
+blame him?
+
+Dry clothes were found them, and grog and beef.
+
+While employed on the victuals, a little Anglo-Frank, aged ten,
+suddenly rolled out of a hammock and offered aid in the sweet accents
+of their native tongue. The sound of the knives and forks had woke the
+urchin out of a deep sleep. David filled the hybrid, and then sent him
+to Lucy's cabin to learn how she was getting on. He returned, and told
+them the lady was sitting on deck.
+
+"Dear me," said David, "she ought to be in her bed." He rose and went
+on deck, followed by Mr. Talboys. "Had you not better rest yourself?"
+said David.
+
+"No, thank you, Mr. Dodd; I had a delicious sleep in the boat."
+
+Here Talboys put in his word, and made her a rueful apology for the
+turn his pleasure-excursion had taken.
+
+She stopped him most graciously.
+
+"On the contrary, I have to thank you, indirectly, for one of the
+pleasantest evenings I ever spent. I never was in danger before, and
+it is delightful. I was a little frightened at first, but it soon wore
+off, and I feel I should shortly revel in it; only I must have a brave
+man near just to look at, then I gather courage from his eye; do I not
+now, Mr. Dodd?"
+
+"Indeed you do," said David, simply enough.
+
+Lucy Fountain's appearance and manner bore out her words. Talboys was
+white; even David and Jack showed some signs of a night of watching
+and anxiety; but the young lady's cheek was red and fresh, her eye
+bright, and she shone with an inspired and sprightly ardor that was
+never seen, or never observed in her before. They had found the way to
+put her blood up, after all--the blood of the Funteyns. Such are
+thoroughbreds: they rise with the occasion; snobs descend as the
+situation rises. See that straight-necked, small-nosed mare stepping
+delicately on the turnpike: why, it is Languor in person, picking its
+way among eggs. Now the hounds cry and the horn rings. Put her at
+timber, stream, and plowed field in pleasing rotation, and see her
+now: up ears; open nostril; nerves steel; heart immovable; eye of
+fire; foot of wind. And ho! there! What stuck in that last arable,
+dead stiff as the Rosinantes in Trafalgar Square, all but one limb,
+which goes like a water-wagtail's? Why, by Jove! if it isn't the hero
+of the turnpike road: the gallant, impatient, foaming, champing,
+space-devouring, curveting cocktail.
+
+
+Out of consideration for her male companions' infirmities, and
+observing that they were ashamed to take needful rest while she
+remained on deck, Lucy at length retired to her cabin.
+
+She slept a good many hours, and was awakened at last by the rocking
+of the sloop. The wind had fallen gently, but it had also changed to
+due east, which brought a heavy ground-swell round the point into
+their little haven. Lucy made her toilet, and came on deck blooming
+like a rose. The first person she encountered was Mr. Talboys. She
+saluted him cordially, and then inquired for their companions.
+
+"Oh, they are gone."
+
+"Gone! What do you mean?"
+
+"Sailed half an hour ago. Look, there is the boat coasting the island.
+No, not that way--westward; out there, just weathering that point
+Don't you see?"
+
+"Are they making a tour of the island, then?"
+
+Here the little Anglo-Frank put in his word. "No, ma'ainselle, gone to
+catch sheep bound for ze East Indeeze."
+
+"Gone! gone! for good?" and Lucy turned very pale. The next moment
+offended pride sent the blood rushing to her brow. "That is just like
+Mr. Dodd; there is not another gentleman in the world would have had
+the ill-breeding to go off like that to India without even bidding us
+good-morning or good-by. Did he bid _you_ good-by, Mr. Talboys?"
+
+"No."
+
+"There, now, it is insolent--it is barbarous." Her vexation at the
+affront David had put on Mr. Talboys soon passed into indignation.
+"This was done to insult--to humiliate us. A noble revenge. You know
+we used sometimes to quiz him a little ashore, especially you; so now,
+out of spite, he has saved our lives, and then turned his back
+arrogantly upon us before we could express our gratitude; that is as
+much as to say he values us as so many dogs or cats, flings us our
+lives haughtily, and then turned his back disdainfully on us. Life is
+not worth having when given so insultingly."
+
+Talboys soothed the offended fair. "I really don't think he meant to
+insult us; but you know Dodd; he is a good-natured fellow, but he
+never had the slightest pretension to good-breeding."
+
+"Don't you think," replied the lady, "it would be as well to leave off
+detracting from Mr. Dodd now that he has just saved your life?"
+
+Talboys opened his eyes. "Why, you began it."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Talboys, do not descend to evasion. What I say goes for
+nothing. Mr. Dodd and I are fast friends, and nobody will ever succeed
+in robbing me of my esteem for him. But you always hated him, and you
+seize every opportunity of showing your dislike. Poor Mr. Dodd! He has
+too many great virtues not to be envied--and hated."
+
+Talboys stood puzzled, and was at a loss which way to steer his
+tongue, the wind being so shifty. At last he observed a little
+haughtily that "he never made Mr. Dodd of so much importance as all
+this. He owned he _had_ quizzed him, but it was not his intention
+to quiz him any more; for I do feel under considerable obligations to
+Mr. Dodd; he has brought us safe across the Channel; at the same time,
+I own I should have been more grateful if he had beat against the wind
+and landed us on our native coast; the lugger is there long before
+this, and our boat was the best of the two."
+
+"Absurd!" replied Lucy, with cold hauteur. "The lugger had a sharp
+stern, but ours was a square stern, so we were obliged to _run;_
+if we had _beat,_ we should all have been drowned directly."
+
+Talboys was staggered by this sudden influx of science; but he held
+his ground. "There is something in that," said he; "but still,
+a--a----"
+
+"There, Mr. Talboys," said the young lady suddenly, assuming extreme
+languor after delivering a facer, "pray do not engage me in an
+argument. I do not feel equal to one, especially on a subject that has
+lost its interest. Can you inform me when this vessel sails?"
+
+"Not till to-morrow morning."
+
+"Then will you be so kind as to borrow me that little boat? it is
+dangling from the ship, so it must belong to it. I wish to land, and
+see whether he has cast us upon an in- or an uninhabited island."
+
+The sloop's boat speedily landed them on the island, and Lucy proposed
+to cross the narrow neck of land and view the sea they had crossed in
+the dark. This was soon done, and she took that opportunity of looking
+about for the lateen, for her mind had taken another turn, and she
+doubted the report that David had gone to intercept the East-Indiaman.
+A short glance convinced her it was true. About seven miles to
+leeward, her course west-northwest, her hull every now and then hidden
+by the waves, her white sails spread like a bird's, the lateen was
+flying through the foam at its fastest rate. Lucy gazed at her so long
+and steadfastly that Talboys took the huff, and strolled along the
+cliff.
+
+When Lucy turned to go back, she found the French skipper coming
+toward her with a scrap of paper in his hand. He presented it with a
+low bow; she took it with a courtesy. It was neatly folded, though not
+as letters are folded ashore, and it bore her address. She opened it
+and read:
+
+
+"It was not worth while disturbing your rest just to see us go off.
+God bless you, Miss Lucy! The Frenchman is bound for ----, and will
+take you safe; and mind you don't step ashore till the plank is fast.
+
+"Yours, respectfully,
+
+"DAVID DODD."
+
+
+That was all. She folded it back thoughtfully into the original folds,
+and turned away. When she had gone but a few steps she stopped and put
+her rejected lover's little note into her bosom, and went slowly back
+to the boat, hanging her sweet head, and crying as she went.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+MR. FOUNTAIN remained in the town waiting for his niece's return. Six
+o'clock came--no boat. Eight o'clock--no boat, and a heavy gale
+blowing. He went down to the beach in great anxiety; and when he got
+there he soon found it was shared to the full by many human beings.
+There were little knots of fishermen and sailors discussing it, and
+one poor woman, mother and wife, stealing from group to group and
+listening anxiously to the men's conjectures. But the most striking
+feature of the scene was an old white-haired man, who walked wildly,
+throwing his arms about. The others rather avoided him, but Mr.
+Fountain felt he had a right to speak to him; so he came to him, and
+told him "his niece was on board; and you, too, I fear, have some one
+dear to you in danger."
+
+The old man replied sorrowfully that "his lovely new boat was in
+danger--in such danger that he should never see her again;" then
+added, going suddenly into a fury, that "as to the two rascally
+bluejackets that were on board of her, and had borrowed her of his
+wife while he was out, all he wished was that they had been swamped to
+all eternity long ago, then they would not have been able to come and
+swamp his dear boat."
+
+Peppery old Fountain cursed him for a heartless old vagabond, and
+joined the group whose grief and anxiety were less ostentatious, being
+for the other boat that carried their own flesh and blood. But all
+night long that white-haired old man paced the shore, flinging his
+arms, weeping and cursing alternately for his dear schooner.
+
+Oh holy love--of property! how venerable you looked in the moonlight,
+with your white hairs streaming! How well you imitated, how close you
+rivaled, the holiest effusions of the heart, and not for the first
+time nor the last.
+
+"My daughter! my ducats! my ducats! my daughter!" etc.
+
+
+The morning broke; no sign of either boat. The wind had shifted to the
+east, and greatly abated. The fishermen began to have hopes for their
+comrades; these communicated themselves to Mr. Fountain.
+
+It was about one o'clock in the afternoon when this latter observed
+people streaming along the shore to a distant point. He asked a
+coastguard man, whom he observed scanning the place with a glass,
+"What it was?"
+
+The man lowered his voice and said, "Well, sir, it will be something
+coming ashore, by the way the folk are running."
+
+Mr. Fountain got a carriage, and, urging the driver to use speed, was
+hastily conveyed by the road to a part whence a few steps brought him
+down to the sea. He thrust wildly in among the crowd.
+
+"Make way," said the rough fellows: they saw he was one of those who
+had the best right to be there.
+
+He looked, and there, scarce fifty yards from the shore, was the
+lugger, keel uppermost, drifting in with the tide. The old man
+staggered, and was supported by a beach man.
+
+When the wreck came within fifteen yards of the shore, she hung, owing
+to the under suction, and could get neither way. The cries of the
+women broke out afresh at this. Then half a dozen stout fellows swam
+in with ropes, and with some difficulty righted her, and in another
+minute she was hauled ashore.
+
+The crowd rushed upon her. She was empty! Not an oar, not a
+boat-hook--nothing. But jammed in between the tiller and the boat they
+found a purple veil. The discovery was announced loudly by one of the
+females, but the consequent outcry was instantly hushed by the men,
+and the oldest fisherman there took it, and, in a sudden dead and
+solemn silence, gave it with a world of subdued meaning to Mr.
+Fountain.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+MR. FOUNTAIN'S grief was violent; the more so, perhaps, that it was
+not pure sorrow, but heated with anger and despair. He had not only
+lost the creature he loved better than anyone else except himself, but
+all his plans and all his ambition were upset forever. I am sorry to
+say there were moments when he felt indignant with Heaven, and accused
+its justice. At other times the virtues of her he had lost came to his
+recollection, and he wept genuine tears. Now she was dead he asked
+himself a question that is sometimes reserved for that occasion, and
+then asked with bitter regret and idle remorse at its postponement,
+"What can I do to show my love and respect for her?" The poor old
+fellow could think of nothing now but to try and recover her body from
+the sea, and to record her virtues on her tomb. He employed six men to
+watch the coast for her along a space of twelve miles, and he went to
+a marble-cutter and ordered a block of beautiful white marble. He drew
+up the record of her virtues himself, and spelled her "Fontaine," and
+so settled that question by brute force.
+
+Oh, you may giggle, but men are not most sincere when they are most
+reasonable, nor most reasonable when most sincere. When a man's heart
+is in a thing, it is in it--wise or nonsensical, it is all one; so it
+is no use talking.
+
+
+I lack words to describe the gloom that fell on Mr. Bazalgette's home
+when the sad tidings reached it. And, indeed, it would be trifling
+with my reader to hang many more pages with black when he and I both
+know Lucy Fontaine is alive all the time.
+
+Meantime the French sloop lay at her anchor, and Lucy fretted with
+impatience. At noon the next day she sailed, and, being a slow vessel,
+did not anchor off the port of ---- till daybreak the day after. Then
+she had to wait for the tide, and it was nearly eleven o'clock when
+Lucy landed. She went immediately to the principal inn to get a
+conveyance. On the road, whom should she meet but Mr. Hardie. He gave
+a joyful start at sight of her, and with more heart than she could
+have expected welcomed her to life again. From him she learned all the
+proofs of her death. This made her more anxious to fly to her aunt's
+house at once and undeceive her.
+
+Mr. Hardie would not let her hire a carriage; he would drive her over
+in half the time. He beckoned his servant, who was standing at the inn
+door, and ordered it immediately. "Meantime, Miss Fountain, if you
+will take my arm, I will show you something that I think will amuse
+you, though _we_ have found it anything but amusing, as you may
+well suppose." Lucy took his arm somewhat timidly, and he walked her
+to the marble-cutter's shop. "Look there," said he. Lucy looked and
+there was an unfinished slab on which she read these words:
+
+               Sacred to the Memory
+                       OF
+                  LUCY FONTAINE,
+         WHO WAS DROWNED AT SEA ON THE
+                10TH SEPT., 18--.
+
+      As her beauty endeared her to all eyes,
+         So her modesty, piety, docilit
+
+At this point in her moral virtues the chisel had stopped. Eleven
+o'clock struck, and the chisel went for its beer; for your English
+workman would leave the d in "God" half finished when strikes the hour
+of beer.
+
+The fact is that the shopkeeper had newly set up, was proud of the
+commission, and, whenever the chisel left off, he whipped into the
+workshop and brought the slab out, _pro tem.,_ into his window
+for an advertisement.
+
+Hardie pointed it out to Lucy with a chuckle. Lucy turned pale, and
+put her hand to her heart. Hardie saw his mistake too late, and
+muttered excuses.
+
+Lucy gave a little gasp and stopped him. "Pray say no more; it is my
+fault; if people will feign death, they must expect these little
+tributes. My uncle has lost no time." And two unreasonable tears
+swelled to her eyes and trickled one after another down her cheeks;
+then she turned her back quickly on the thing, and Mr. Hardie felt her
+arm tremble. "I think, Mr. Hardie," said she presently, with marked
+courtesy, "I should, under the circumstances, prefer to go home alone.
+My aunt's nerves are sensitive, and I must think of the best way of
+breaking to her the news that I am alive."
+
+"It would be best, Miss Fountain; and, to tell the truth, I feel
+myself unworthy to accompany you after being so maladroit as to give
+you pain in thinking to amuse you."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Hardie," said Lucy, growing more and more courteous, "you are
+not to be called to account for my weakness; that _would_ be
+unjust. I shall have the pleasure of seeing you at dinner?"
+
+"Certainly, since you permit me."
+
+He put Lucy into the carriage and off she drove. "Come," thought Mr.
+Hardie, "I have had an escape; what a stupid blunder for me to make!
+She is not angry, though, so it does not matter. She asked me to
+dinner."
+
+Said Lucy to herself: "The man is a fool! Poor Mr. Dodd! _he_
+would not have shown me my tombstone--to amuse me." And she dismissed
+the subject from her mind.
+
+She sent away the carriage and entered Mr. Bazalgette's house on foot.
+After some consideration she determined to employ Jane, a girl of some
+tact, to break her existence to her aunt. She glided into the
+drawing-room unobserved, fully expecting to find Jane at work there
+for Mrs. Bazalgette. But the room was empty. While she hesitated what
+to do next, the handle of the door was turned, and she had only just
+time to dart behind a heavy window-curtain, when it opened, and Mrs.
+Bazalgette walked slowly and silently in, followed by a woman. Mrs.
+Bazalgette seated herself and sighed deeply. Her companion kept a
+respectful silence. After a considerable pause, Mrs. Bazalgette said a
+few words in a voice so thoroughly subdued and solemn, and every now
+and then so stifled, that Lucy's heart yearned for her, and nothing
+but the fear of frightening her aunt into a hysterical fit kept her
+from flying into her arms.
+
+"I need not tell you," said Mrs. Bazalgette, "why I sent for you. You
+know the sad bereavement that has fallen on me, but you cannot know
+all I have lost in her. Nobody can tell what she was to all of us, but
+most of all to me. I was her darling, and she was mine." Here tears
+choked Mrs. Bazalgette's words, for a while. Recovering herself, she
+paid a tribute to the character of the deceased. "It was a soul
+without one grain of selfishness; all her thoughts were for others,
+not one for herself. She loved us all--indeed, she loved some that
+were hardly worthy of so pure a creature's love; but the reason was,
+she had no eye for the faults of her friends; she pictured them like
+herself, and loved her own sweet image in them. _And_ such a
+temper! and so free from guile. I may truly say her mind was as lovely
+as her person."
+
+"She was, indeed, a sweet young lady," sighed the woman.
+
+"She was an angel, Baldwin--an angel sent to bear us company a little
+while, and now she is a saint in Heaven."
+
+"Ah! ma'am, the best goes first, that is an old saying."
+
+"So I have heard; but my niece was as healthy as she was lovely and
+good. Everything promised long life. I hoped she would have closed my
+eyes. In the bloom of health one day, and the next lying cold, stark,
+and drenched!! Oh, how terrible! Oh, my poor Lucy! oh! oh! oh!"
+
+"In the midst of life we are in death, ma'am. I am sure it is a
+warning to me, ma'am, as well as to my betters."
+
+"It, is, indeed, Baldwin, a warning to all of us who have lived too
+much for vanities, to think of this sweet flower, snatched in a moment
+from our bosoms and from the world; we ought to think of it on our
+knees, and remember our own latter end. That last skirt you sent me
+was rather scrimped, my poor Baldwin."
+
+"Was it, ma'am?"
+
+"Oh, it does not matter; I shall never wear it now; and, under such a
+blow as this, I am in no humor to find fault. Indeed, with my grief I
+neglect my household and my very children. I forget everything; what
+did I send for you for?" and she looked with lack-luster eyes full in
+Mrs. Baldwin's face.
+
+"Jane did not say, ma'am, but I am at your orders."
+
+"Oh, of course; I am distracted. It was to pay the last tribute of
+respect to her dear memory. Ah! Baldwin, often and often the black
+dress is all; but here the heart mourns beyond the power of grief to
+express by any outward trappings. No matter; the world, the shallow
+world, respects these signs of woe, and let mine be the deepest
+mourning ever worn, and the richest. And out of that mourning I shall
+never go while I live."
+
+"No, ma'am," said Baldwin soothingly.
+
+"Do you doubt me?" asked the lady, with a touch of sharpness that did
+not seemed called for by Baldwin's humble acquiescence.
+
+"Oh, no, ma'am; it is a very natural thought under the present
+affliction, and most becoming the sad occasion. Well, ma'am, the
+deepest mourning, if you please, I should say cashmere and crape."
+
+"Yes, that would be deep. Oh, Baldwin, it is her violent death that
+kills me. Well?"
+
+"Cashmere and crape, ma'am, and with nothing white about the neck and
+arms."
+
+"Yes; oh yes; but will not that be rather unbecoming?"
+
+"Well, ma'am--" and Baldwin hesitated.
+
+"I hardly see how I _could_ wear that, it makes one look so old.
+Now don't you think black _glace_ silk, and trimmed with
+love-ribbon, black of course, but scalloped--"
+
+"That would be very rich, indeed, ma'am, and very becoming to you;
+but, being so near and dear, it would not be so deep as you are
+desirous of."
+
+"Why, Baldwin, you don't attend to what I say; I told you I was never
+going out of mourning again, so what is the use of your proposing
+anything to me that I can't wear all my life? Now tell me, can I
+always wear cashmere and crape?"
+
+"Oh no, ma'am, that is out of the question; and if it is for a
+permanency, I don't see how we could improve on _glace_ silk,
+with crape, and love-ribbons. Would you like the body trimmed with
+jet, ma'am?"
+
+"Oh, don't ask me; I don't know. If my darling had only died
+comfortably in her bed, then we could have laid out her sweet remains,
+and dressed them for her virgin tomb."
+
+"It would have been a satisfaction, ma'am."
+
+"A sad one, at the best; but now the very earth, perhaps, will never
+receive her. Oh yes, anything you like--the body trimmed with jet, if
+you wish it, and let me see, a gauze bodice, goffered, fastened to the
+throat. That is all, I think; the sleeves confined at the wrist just
+enough not to expose the arm, and yet look light--you understand."
+
+"Yes, ma'am."
+
+"She kissed me just before she went on that fatal excursion, Baldwin;
+she will never kiss me again--oh! oh! You must call on Dejazet for me,
+and bespeak me a bonnet to match; it is not to be supposed I can run
+about after her trumpery at such a time; besides, it is not usual."
+
+"Indeed, ma'am, you are in no state for it; I will undertake any
+purchases you may require."
+
+"Thank you, my good Baldwin; you are a good, kind, feeling, useful
+soul. Oh, Baldwin, if it had pleased Heaven to take her by disease, it
+would have been bad enough to lose her; but to be drowned! her clothes
+all wetted through and through; her poor hair drenched, too; and then
+the water is so cold at this time of year--oh! oh! Send me a cross of
+jet, and jet beads, with the dress, and a jet brooch, and a set of jet
+buttons, in case--besides--oh! oh! oh!--I expect every moment to see
+her carried home, all pale and wetted by the nasty sea--oh! oh!--and
+an evening dress of the same--the newest fashion. I leave it to you;
+don't ask me any questions about it, for I can't and won't go into
+that. I can try it on when it is made--oh! oh! oh!--it does not do to
+love any creature as I loved my poor lost Lucy--and a black fan---oh!
+oh!--and a dozen pair of black kid gloves--oh!--and a
+mourning-ring--and--"
+
+"Stop, aunt, or your love for me will be your ruin!" said Lucy,
+coldly, and stood suddenly before the pair, looking rather cynical.
+
+"What, Lucy! alive! No, her ghost--ah! ah!"
+
+"Be calm, aunt; I am alive and well. Now, don't be childish, dear; I
+have been in danger, but here I am."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette and Mrs. Baldwin flew together, and trembled in one
+another's arms. Lucy tried to soothe them, but at last could not help
+laughing at them. This brought Baldwin to her senses quicker than
+anything; but Mrs. Bazalgette, who, like many false women, was
+hysterical, went off into spasms--genuine ones. They gave her
+salts--in vain. Slapped her hands--in vain.
+
+Then Lucy cried to Baldwin, "Quick! the tumbler; I must sprinkle her
+face and bosom."
+
+"Oh, don't spoil my lilac gown!" gasped the sufferer, and with a
+mighty effort she came to. She would have come back from the edge of
+the grave to shield silk from water. Finally she wreathed her arms
+round Lucy, and kissed her so tenderly, warmly and sobbingly, that
+Lucy got over the shock of her shallowness, and they kissed and cried
+together most joyously, while Baldwin, after a heroic attempt at
+jubilation, retired from the room with a face as long as your arm.
+_A bas les revenants!!_ She went to the housekeeper's room. The
+housekeeper persuaded her to stay and take a bit of dinner, and soon
+after dinner she was sent for to Mrs. Bazalgette's room.
+
+Lucy met her coming out of it. "I fear I came _mal apropos,_ Mrs.
+Baldwin; if I had thought of it, I would have waited till you had
+secured that munificent order."
+
+"I am much obliged to you, miss, I am sure; but you were always a
+considerate young lady. You'll be glad to learn, miss, it makes no
+difference; I have got the order; it is all right."
+
+"That is fortunate," replied Lucy, kindly, "otherwise I should have
+been tempted to commit an extravagance with you myself. Well, and what
+is my aunt's new dress to be now?"
+
+"Oh, the same, miss."
+
+"The same? why, she is not going into mourning on my return? ha! ha!"
+
+"La bless you, miss, mourning? you can't call that
+mourning--_glace_ silk and love-ribbons scalloped out, and
+cetera. Of course it was not my business to tell her so; but I could
+not help thinking to myself, if that is the way my folk are going to
+mourn for me, they may just let it alone. However, that is all over
+now; and your aunt sent for me, and says she, 'Black becomes
+_me;_ you will make the dresses all the same.'" And Baldwin
+retired radiant.
+
+Lucy put her hand to her bosom. "Make the dresses all the same--all
+the same, whether I am alive or dead. No, I will not cry; no, I will
+not. Who is worth a tear? what is worth a tear? All the same. It is
+not to be forgotten--nor forgiven. Poor Mr. Dodd!!"
+
+
+Mr. Fountain learned the good news in the town, so his meeting with
+Lucy was one of pure joy. Mr. Talboys did not hear anything. He had
+business up in London, and did not stay ten minutes in ----.
+
+The house revived, and _jubilabat, jubilabat._ But after the
+first burst of triumph things went flat. David Dodd was gone, and was
+missed; and Lucy was changed. She looked a shade older, and more than
+one shade graver; and, instead of living solely for those who happened
+to be basking in her rays, she was now and then comparatively
+inattentive, thoughtful, and _distraite._
+
+Mr. Fountain watched her keenly; ditto Mrs. Bazalgette. A slight
+reaction had taken place in both their bosoms. "Hang the girl! there
+were we breaking our hearts for her, and she was alive." She had
+"_beguiled_ them of their tears."--Othello. But they still
+loved her quite well enough to take charge of her fate.
+
+A sort of itch for settling other people's destinies, and so gaining a
+title to their curses for our pragmatical and fatal interference, is
+the commonest of all the forms of sanctioned lunacy.
+
+Moreover, these two had imbibed the spirit of rivalry, and each was
+stimulated by the suspicion that the other was secretly at work.
+
+Lucy's voluntary promise in the ballroom was a double sheet-anchor to
+Mr. Fountain. It secured him against the only rival he dreaded.
+Talboys, too, was out of the way just now, and the absence of the
+suitor is favorable to his success, where the lady has no personal
+liking for him. To work went our Machiavel again, heart and soul, and
+whom do you think he had the cheek, or, as the French say, the
+forehead, to try and win over?--Mrs. Bazalgette.
+
+This bold step, however, was not so strange as it would have been a
+month ago. The fact is, I have brought you unfairly close to this
+pair. When you meet them in the world you will be charmed with both of
+them, and recognize neither. There are those whose faults are all on
+the surface: these are generally disliked; there are those whose
+faults are all at the core: they charm creation. Mrs. Bazalgette is
+allowed by both sexes to be the most delightful, amiable woman in the
+county, and will carry that reputation to her grave. Fountain is "the
+jolliest old buck ever went on two legs." I myself would rather meet
+twelve such agreeable humbugs--six of a sex--_at dinner_ than the
+twelve apostles, and so would you, though you don't know it. These
+two, then, had long ere this found each other mighty agreeable. The
+woman saw the man's vanity, and flattered it. The man the woman's, and
+flattered it. Neither saw--am I to say?--his own or her own, or what?
+Hang language!!! In short, they had long ago oiled one another's
+asperities, and their intercourse was smooth and frequent: they were
+always chatting together--strewing flowers of speech over their mines
+and countermines.
+
+Mr. Fountain, then, who, in virtue of his sex, had the less patience,
+broke ground.
+
+"My dear Mrs. Bazalgette, I would not have missed this visit for a
+thousand pounds. Certainly there is nothing like contact for rubbing
+off prejudices. I little thought, when I first came here, the
+principal attraction of the place would prove to be my fair hostess."
+
+"I know you were prejudiced, my dear Mr. Fountain. I can't say I ever
+had any against you, but certainly I did not know half your good
+qualities. However, your courtesy to me when I invaded you at Font
+Abbey prepared me for your real character; and now this visit, I
+trust, makes us friends."
+
+"Ah! my dear Mrs. Bazalgette, one thing only is wanting to make you my
+benefactor as well as friend--if I could only persuade you to withdraw
+your powerful opposition to a poor old fellow's dream."
+
+"What poor old fellow?"
+
+"Me."
+
+"You? why, you are not so very old. You are not above fifty."
+
+"Ah! fair lady, you must not evade me. Come, can nothing soften you?"
+
+"I don't know what you mean, Mr. Fountain"; and the mellifluous tones
+dried suddenly.
+
+"You are too sagacious not to know everything; you know my heart is
+set on marrying my niece to a man of ancient family."
+
+"With all my heart. You have only to use your influence with her. If
+she consents, I will not oppose."
+
+"You cruel little lady, you know it is not enough to withdraw
+opposition; I can't succeed without your kind aid and support."
+
+"Now, Mr. Fountain, I am a great coward, but, really, I could almost
+venture to scold you a little. Is not a poor little woman to be
+allowed to set her heart on things as well as a poor old gentleman who
+does not look fifty? You know my poor little heart is bent on her
+marrying into our own set, yet you can ask me to influence her the
+other way--me, who have never once said a word to her for my own
+favorites! No; the fairest, kindest, and best way is to leave her to
+select her own happiness."
+
+"A fine thing it would be if young people were left to marry who they
+like," retorted Fountain. "My dear lady, I would never have asked your
+aid so long as there was the least chance of her marrying Mr. Hardie;
+but, now that she has of her own accord declined him--"
+
+"What is that? declined Mr. Hardie? when did he ever propose for her?"
+
+"You misunderstand me. She came to me and told me she would never
+marry him."
+
+"When was that? I don't believe it."
+
+"It was in the ball-room."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette reflected; then she turned very red. "Well, sir," said
+she, "don't build too much on that; for four months ago she made me a
+solemn promise she would never marry any lover you should find her,
+and she repeated that promise in your very house."
+
+"I don't believe it, madam."
+
+"That is polite, sir. Come, Mr. Fountain, you are agitated and cross,
+and it is no use being cross either with me or with Lucy. You asked my
+co-operation. You gentlemen can ask anything; and you are wise to do
+these droll things; that is where you gain the advantage over us poor
+cowards of women. Well, I will co-operate with you. Now listen. Lucy's
+_penchant_ is neither for Mr. Hardie, nor Mr. Talboys, but for
+Mr. Dodd."
+
+"You don't mean it?"
+
+"Oh, she does not care _much_ for him; she has refused him to my
+knowledge, and would again; besides, he is gone to India, so there is
+an end of _him._ She seems a little languid and out of spirits;
+it may be because he _is_ gone. Now, then, is the very time to
+press a marriage upon her."
+
+"The very worst time, surely, if she is really such an idiot as to be
+fretting for a fellow who is away."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette informed her new ally condescendingly that he knew
+nothing of the sex he had undertaken to tackle.
+
+"When a cold-blooded girl like this, who has no strong attachment, is
+out of spirits, and all that sort of thing, then is the time she falls
+to any resolute wooer. She will yield if we both insist, and we
+_will_ insist. Only keep your temper, and let nothing tempt you
+to say an unkind word to her."
+
+She then rang the bell, and desired that Miss Fountain might be
+requested to come into the drawing-room for a minute.
+
+"But what are you going to do?"
+
+"Give her the choice of two husbands--Mr. Talboys or Mr. Hardie."
+
+"She will take neither, I am afraid."
+
+"Oh, yes, she will."
+
+"Which?"
+
+"Ah! the one she dislikes the least."
+
+"By Jove, you are right--you are an angel." And the old gentleman in
+his gratitude to her who was outwitting him, and vice versa,
+kissed Mrs. Bazalgette's hand with great devotion, in which act he was
+surprised by Lucy, who floated through the folding-doors. She said
+nothing, but her face volumes.
+
+"Sit down, love."
+
+"Yes, aunt."
+
+She sat down, and her eye mildly bored both relatives, like, if you
+can imagine a gentle gimlet, worked by insinuation, not force.
+
+Then the favored Fountain enjoyed the inestimable privilege of
+beholding a small bout of female fence.
+
+The accomplished actress of forty began.
+
+The novice held herself apparently all open with a sweet smile, the
+eye being the only weapon that showed point.
+
+"My love, your uncle and I, who were not always just to one another,
+have been united by our love for you."
+
+"So I observed as I came in--ahem!"
+
+"Henceforth we are one where your welfare is concerned, and we have
+something serious to say to you now. There is a report, dearest,
+creeping about that you have formed an unfortunate attachment--to a
+person beneath you."
+
+"Who told you that, aunt? Name, as they say in the House."
+
+"No matter; these things are commonly said without foundation in this
+wicked world; but, still, it is always worth our while to prove them
+false, not, of course, directly--_'qui s'excuse s'accuse'_--but
+indirectly."
+
+"I agree with you, and I shall do so in my uncle's presence. You were
+present, aunt--though uninvited--when the gentleman you allude to
+offered me what I consider a great honor, and you heard me decline it;
+you are therefore fully able to contradict that report, whose source,
+by the by, you have not given me, and of course you will contradict
+it."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette colored a little. But she said affectionately: "These
+silly rumors are best contradicted by a good marriage, love, and that
+brings me to something more important. We have two proposals for you,
+and both of them excellent ones. Now, in a matter where your happiness
+is at stake, your uncle and I are determined not to let our private
+partialities speak. We do press you to select one of these offers, but
+leave you quite free as to which you take. Mr. Talboys is a gentleman
+of old family and large estates. Mr. Hardie is a wealthy, and able,
+and rising man. They are both attached to you; both excellent matches.
+
+"Whichever you choose your uncle and I shall both feel that an
+excellent position for life is yours, and no regret that you did not
+choose our especial favorite shall stain our joy or our love." With
+this generous sentiment tears welled from her eyes, whereat Fountain
+worshiped her and felt his littleness.
+
+But Lucy was of her own sex, and had observed what an unlimited
+command of eye-water an hysterical female possesses. She merely bowed
+her head graciously, and smiled politely. Thus encouraged to proceed,
+her aunt dried her eyes with a smile, and with genial cheerfulness
+proceeded: "Well, then, dear, which shall it be--Mr. Talboys?"
+
+Lucy opened her eyes _so_ innocently. "My dear aunt, I wonder at
+that question from you. Did you not make me promise you I would never
+marry that gentleman, nor any friend of my uncle's?"
+
+"And did you?" cried Fountain.
+
+"I did," replied the penitent, hanging her head. "My aunt was so kind
+to me about something or other, I forget what."
+
+Fountain bounced up and paced the room.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette lowered her voice: "It is to be Mr. Hardie, then?"
+
+"Mr. Hardie!!!" cried Lucy, rather loudly, to attract her uncle's
+attention.
+
+"Oh, no, the same objection applies there; I made my uncle a solemn
+promise not to marry any friend of yours, aunt. Poor uncle! I refused
+at first, but he looked so unhappy my resolution failed, and I gave my
+promise. I will keep it, uncle. Don't fear me."
+
+It caused Mrs. Bazalgette a fierce struggle to command her temper.
+Both she and Fountain were dumb for a minute; then elastic Mrs.
+Bazalgette said:
+
+"We were both to blame; you and I did not really know each other. The
+best thing we can do now is to release the poor girl from these silly
+promises, that stand in the way of her settlement in life."
+
+"I agree, madam."
+
+"So do I. There, Lucy, choose, for we both release you."
+
+"Thank you," said Lucy gravely; "but how can you? No unfair advantage
+was taken of me; I plighted my word knowingly and solemnly, and no
+human power can release persons of honor from a solemn pledge.
+Besides, just now you would release me; but you might not always be in
+the same mind. No, I will keep faith with you both, and not place my
+truth at the mercy of any human being nor of any circumstance. If that
+is all, please permit me to retire. The less a young lady of my age
+thinks or talks about the other sex, the more time she has for her
+books and her needle;" and, having delivered this precious sentence,
+with a deliberate and most deceiving imitation of the pedantic prude,
+she departed, and outside the door broke instantly into a joyous
+chuckle at the expense of the plotters she had left looking moonstruck
+in one another's faces. If the new allies had been both Fountain, the
+apple of discord this sweet novice threw down between them would have
+dissolved the alliance, as the sly novice meant it to do; but, while
+the gentleman went storming about the room ripe for civil war, the
+lady leaned back in her chair and laughed heartily.
+
+"Come, Mr. Fountain, it is no use your being cross with a female, or
+she will get the better of you. She has outwitted us. We took her for
+a fool, and she is a clever girl. I'll--tell--you--what, she is a very
+clever girl. Never mind that, she is only a girl; and, if you will be
+ruled by me, her happiness shall be secured in spite of her, and she
+shall be engaged in less than a week."
+
+Fountain recognized his superior, and put himself under the lady's
+orders--in an evil hour for Lucy.
+
+The poor girl's triumph over the forces was but momentary; her ground
+was not tenable. The person promised can release the person who
+promises--_volenti non fit injuria._ Lucy found herself attacked
+with female weapons, that you and I, sir, should laugh at; but they
+made her miserable. Cold looks; short answers; solemnity; distance;
+hints at ingratitude and perverseness; kisses intermitted all day, and
+the parting one at night degraded to a dignified ceremony. Under this
+impalpable persecution the young thoroughbred, that had steered the
+boat across the breakers, winced and pined.
+
+She did not want a husband or a lover, but she could not live without
+being loved. She was not sent into the world for that. She began
+secretly to hate the two gentlemen that had lost her her relations'
+affection, and she looked round to see how she could get rid of them
+without giving fresh offense to her dear aunt and uncle. If she could
+only make it their own act! Now a man in such a case inclines to give
+the obnoxious parties a chance of showing themselves generous and
+delicate; he would reveal the whole situation to them, and indicate
+the generous and manly course; but your thorough woman cannot do this.
+It is physically as well as morally impossible to her. Misogynists say
+it is too wise, and not cunning enough. So what does Miss Lucy do but
+turn round and make love to Captain Kenealy? And the cold virgin being
+at last by irrevocable fate driven to love-making, I will say this for
+her, she did not do it by halves. She felt quite safe here. The
+good-natured, hollow captain was fortified against passion by
+self-admiration. She said to herself: "Now here is a peg with a
+military suit hanging to it; if I can only fix my eyes on this piece
+of wood and regimentals, and make warm love to it, the love that poets
+have dreamed and romances described, I may surely hope to disgust my
+two admirers, and then they will abandon me and despise me. Ah! I
+could love them if they would only do that."
+
+Well, for a young lady that had never, to her knowledge, felt the
+tender passion, the imitation thereof which she now favored that
+little society with was a wonderful piece of representation. Was
+Kenealy absent, behold Lucy uneasy and restless; was he present; but
+at a distance, her eye demurely devoured him; was he near her, she
+wooed him with such a god-like mixture of fire, of tenderness, of
+flattery, of tact; she did so serpentinely approach and coil round the
+soldier and his mental cavity, that all the males in creation should
+have been permitted to defile past (like the beasts going into the
+ark), and view this sweet picture a moment, and infer how women would
+be wooed, and then go and do it. Effect:
+
+Talboys and Hardie mortified to the heart's core; thought they had
+altogether mistaken her character. "She is a love-sick fool."
+
+On Bazalgette: "Ass! Dodd was worth a hundred of him."
+
+On Kenealy: made him twirl his mustache.
+
+On Fountain: filled him with dismay. There remained only one to be
+hoodwinked.
+
+           SCENA.
+
+A letter is brought in and handed to Captain Kenealy. He reads it, and
+looks a little--a very little--vexed. Nobody else notices it.
+
+Lucy. "What is the matter? Oh, what has occurred?"
+
+Kenealy. "Nothing particulaa."
+
+Lucy. "Don't deceive us: it is an order for you to join the
+horrid army." (Clasps her hands.) "You are going to leave us."
+
+Kenealy. "No, it is from my tailaa. He waunts to be paed."
+(Glares astonished.)
+
+Lucy. "Pay the creature, and nevermore employ him."
+
+Kenealy. "Can't. Haven't got the money. Uncle won't daie. The
+begaa knows I can't pay him, that is the reason why he duns."
+
+Lucy. "He knows it? then what business has he to annoy you
+thus? Take my advice. Return no reply. That is not courteous. But when
+the sole motive of an application is impertinence, silent contempt is
+the course best befitting your dignity."
+
+Kenealy (twirling his mustache). "Dem the fellaa. Shan't take
+any notice of him."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette (to Lucy in passing). "Do you think we are all
+fools?"
+
+_Ibi omnis effusus amor;_ for La Bazalgette undeceived her ally
+and Mr. Hardie, and the screw was put harder still on poor Lucy. She
+was no longer treated like an equal, but made for the first time to
+feel that her uncle and aunt were her elders and superiors, and, that
+she was in revolt. All external signs of affection were withdrawn, and
+this was like docking a strawberry of its water. A young girl may have
+flashes of spirit, heroism even, but her mind is never steel from top
+to toe; it is sure to be wax in more places than one.
+
+"Nobody loves me now that poor Mr. Dodd is gone," sighed Lucy. "Nobody
+ever will love me unless I consent to sacrifice myself. Well, why not?
+I shall never love any gentleman as others of my sex can love. I will
+go and see Mrs. Wilson."
+
+So she ordered out her captain, and rode to Mrs. Wilson, and made her
+captain hold her pony while she went in. Mrs. Wilson received her with
+a tenor scream of delight that revived Lucy's heart to hear, and then
+it was nothing but one broad gush of hilarity and cordiality--showed
+her the house, showed her the cows, showed her the parlor at last, and
+made her sit down.
+
+"Come, set ye down, set ye down, and let me have a downright good look
+at ye. It is not often I clap eyes on ye, or on anything like ye, for
+that matter. Aren't ye well, my dear?"
+
+"Oh yes."
+
+"Are ye sure? Haven't ye ailed anything since I saw ye up at the
+house?"
+
+"No, dear nurse."
+
+"Then you are in care. Bless you, it is not the same face--to a
+stranger, belike, but not to the one that suckled you. Why, there is
+next door to a wrinkle on your pretty brow, and a little hollow under
+your eye, and your face is drawn like, and not half the color. You are
+in trouble or grief of some sort, Miss Lucy; and--who knows?--mayhap
+you be come to tell it your poor old nurse. You might go to a worse
+part. Ay! what touches you will touch me, my nursling dear, all one as
+if it was your own mother."
+
+"Ah! _you_ love me," cried Lucy; "I don't know why you love me
+so; I have not deserved it of you, as I have of others that look
+coldly on me. Yes, you love me, or you would not read my face like
+this. It is true, I am a little--Oh, nurse, I am unhappy;" and in a
+moment she was weeping and sobbing in Mrs. Wilson's arms.
+
+The Amazon sat down with her, and rocked to and fro with her as if she
+was still a child. "Don't check it, my lamb," said she; "have a good
+cry; never drive a cry back on your heart"; and so Lucy sobbed and
+sobbed, and Mrs. Wilson rocked her.
+
+When she had done sobbing she put up a grateful face and kissed Mrs.
+Wilson. But the good woman would not let her go. She still rocked with
+her, and said, "Ay, ay, it wasn't for nothing I was drawed so to go to
+your house that day. I didn't know you were there; but I was drawed. I
+WAS WANTED. Tell me all, my lamb; never keep grief on your heart; give
+it a vent; put a part on't on me; I do claim it; you will see how much
+lighter your heart will feel. Is it a young man?"
+
+"Oh no, no; I hate young men; I wish there were no such things. But for
+them no dissension could ever have entered the house. My uncle and
+aunt both loved me once, and oh! they were so kind to me. Yes; since
+you permit me, I will tell you all."
+
+And she told her a part.
+
+She told her the whole Talboys and Hardie part.
+
+Mrs. Wilson took a broad and somewhat vulgar view of the distress.
+
+"Why, Miss Lucy," said she, "if that is all, you can soon sew up their
+stockings. You don't depend on _them,_ anyways: you are a young
+lady of property."
+
+"Oh, am I?"
+
+"Sure. I have heard your dear mother say often as all her money was
+settled on you by deed. Why, you must be of age, Miss Lucy, or near
+it."
+
+"The day after to-morrow, nurse."
+
+"There now! I knew your birthday could not be far off. Well, then, you
+must wait till you are of age, and then, if they torment you or put on
+you, 'Good-morning,' says you; 'if we can't agree together, let's
+agree to part,' says you."
+
+"What! leave my relations!!"
+
+"It is their own fault. Good friends before bad kindred! They only
+want to make a handle of you to get 'em rich son-in-laws. You pluck up
+a sperrit, Miss Lucy. There's no getting through the world without a
+bit of a sperrit. You'll get put upon at every turn else; and if they
+don't vally you in that house, why, off to another; y'ain't chained to
+their door, I do suppose."
+
+"But, nurse, a young lady cannot live by herself: there is no instance
+of it."
+
+"All wisdom had a beginning. 'Oh, shan't I spoil the pudding once I
+cut it?' quoth Jack's wife."
+
+"What would people say?"
+
+"What could they say? You come to me, which I am all the mother you
+have got left upon earth, and what scandal could they make out of
+that, I should like to know? Let them try it. But don't let me catch
+it atween their lips, or down they do go on the bare ground, and their
+caps in pieces to the winds of heaven;" and she flourished her hand
+and a massive arm with a gesture free, inspired, and formidable.
+
+"Ah! nurse, with you I should indeed feel safe from every ill. But,
+for all that, I shall never go beyond the usages of society. I shall
+never leave my aunt's house."
+
+"I don't say as you will. But I shall get your room ready this
+afternoon, and no later."
+
+"No, nurse, you must not do that."
+
+"Tell'ee I shall. Then, whether you come or not, there 'tis. And when
+they put on you, you have no call to fret. Says you, 'There's my room
+awaiting, and likewise my welcome, too, at Dame Wilson's; I don't need
+to stand no more nonsense here than I do choose,' says you. Dear
+heart! even a little foolish, simple thought like that will help keep
+your sperrit up. You'll see else--you'll see."
+
+"Oh, nurse, how wise you are! You know human nature."
+
+"Well, I am older than you, miss, a precious sight; and if I hadn't
+got one eye open at this time of day, why, when should I, you know?"
+
+
+After this, a little home-made wine forcibly administered, and then
+much kissing, and Lucy rode away revivified and cheered, and quite
+another girl. Her spirits rose so that she proposed to Kenealy to
+extend their ride by crossing the country to ----. She wanted to buy
+some gloves.
+
+"Yaas," said the assenter; and off they cantered.
+
+In the glove-shop who should Lucy find but Eve Dodd. She held out her
+hand, but Eve affected not to observe, and bowed distantly. Lucy would
+not take the hint. After a pause she said:
+
+"Have you any news of Mr. Dodd?"
+
+"I have," was the stiff reply.
+
+"He left us without even saying good-by."
+
+"Did he?"
+
+"Yes, after saving all our lives. Need I say that we are anxious, in
+our turn, to hear of his safety? It was still very tempestuous when he
+left us to catch the great ship, and he was in an open boat."
+
+"My brother is alive, Miss Fountain, if that is what you wish to
+know."
+
+"Alive? is he not well? has he met with any accident? any misfortune?
+is he in the East Indiaman? has he written to you?"
+
+"You are very curious: it is rather late in the day; but, if I am to
+speak about my brother, it must be at home, and not in an open shop. I
+can't trust my feelings."
+
+"Are you going home, Miss Dodd?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Shall I come with you?"
+
+"If you like: it is close by."
+
+Lucy's heart quaked. Eve was so stern, and her eyes like basilisks'.
+
+"Sit down, Miss Fountain, and I will tell you what you have done for
+my brother. I did not court this, you know; I would have avoided your
+eye if I could; it is your doing."
+
+"Yes, Miss Dodd," faltered Lucy, "and I should do it again. I have a
+right to inquire after his welfare who saved my life."
+
+"Well, then, Miss Fountain, his saving your life has lost him his ship
+and ruined him for life."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+"He came in sight of the ship; but the captain, that was jealous of
+him like all the rest, made all sail and ran from him: he chased her,
+and often was near catching her, but she got clear out of the Channel,
+and my poor David had to come back disgraced, ruined for life, and
+broken-hearted. The Company will never forgive him for deserting his
+ship. His career is blighted, and all for one that never cared a straw
+for him. Oh, Miss Fountain, it was an evil day for my poor brother
+when first he saw your face!" Eve would have said more, for her heart
+was burning with wrath and bitterness, but she was interrupted.
+
+Lucy raised both her hands to Heaven, and then, bowing her head, wept
+tenderly and humbly.
+
+A woman's tears do not always affect another woman; but one reason is,
+they are very often no sign of grief or of any worthy feeling. The
+sex, accustomed to read the nicer shades of emotion, distinguishes
+tears of pique, tears of disappointment, tears of spite, tears
+various, from tears of grief. But Lucy's was a burst of regret so
+sincere, of sorrow and pity so tender and innocent that it fell on
+Eve's hot heart like the dew.
+
+"Ah! well," she cried, "it was to be, it was to be; and I suppose I
+oughtn't to blame you. But all he does for you tells against himself,
+and that does seem hard. It isn't as if he and you were anything to
+one another; then I shouldn't grudge it so much. He has lost his
+character as a seaman."
+
+"Oh dear!"
+
+"He valued it a deal more than his life. He was always ready to throw
+THAT away for you or anybody else. He has lost his standing in the
+_service."_
+
+"Oh!"
+
+"You see he has no interest, like some of them; he only got on by
+being better and cleverer than all the rest; so the Company won't
+listen to any excuses from him, and, indeed, he is too proud to make
+them."
+
+"He will never be captain of a ship now?"
+
+"Captain of a ship! Will he ever leave the bed of sickness he lies
+on?"
+
+"The bed of sickness! Is he ill? Oh, what have I done?"
+
+"Is he ill? What! do you think my brother is made of iron? Out all
+night with you--then off, with scarce a wink of sleep; then two days
+and two nights chasing the _Combermere,_ sometimes gaining,
+sometimes losing, and his credit and his good name hanging on it; then
+to beat back against wind, heartbroken, and no food on board--"
+
+"Oh, it is too horrible."
+
+"He staggered into me, white as a ghost. I got him to bed: he was in a
+burning fever. In the night he was lightheaded, and all his talk was
+about you. He kept fretting lest you should not have got safe home. It
+is always so. We care the most for those that care the least for us."
+
+"Is he in the Indiaman?"
+
+"No, Miss Fountain, he is not in the Indiaman," cried Eve, her wrath
+suddenly rising again; "he lies there, Miss Fountain, in that room, at
+death's door, and you to thank for it."
+
+At this stab Lucy uttered a cry like a wounded deer. But this cry was
+followed immediately by one of terror: the door opened suddenly, and
+there stood David Dodd, looking as white as his sister had said, but,
+as usual, not in the humor to succumb. "Me at death's port, did you
+say?" cried he, in a loud tone of cheerful defiance; "tell that to the
+marines!!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+"I HEARD your voice, Miss Lucy; I would know it among a million; so I
+rigged myself directly. Why, what is the matter?"
+
+"Oh, Mr. Dodd," sobbed Lucy, "she has told me all you have gone
+through, and I am the wicked, wicked cause!"
+
+David groaned. "If I didn't think as much. I heard the mill going. Ah!
+Eve, my girl, your jawing-tackle is too well hung. Eve is a good
+sister to me, Miss Lucy, and, where I am concerned, let her alone for
+making a mountain out of a mole-hill. If you believe all she says, you
+are to blame. The thing that went to my heart was to see my skipper
+run out his stunsel booms the moment he saw me overhauling him; it was
+a dirty action, and him an old shipmate. I am glad now I couldn't
+catch her, for if I had my foot would not have been on the deck two
+seconds before his carcass would have been in the Channel. And pray,
+Eve, what has Miss Fountain got to do with that? the dirty lubber
+wasn't bred at her school, or he would not have served an old messmate
+so.
+
+"Belay all that, and let's hear something worth hearing. Now, Miss
+Lucy, you tell me--oh, Lord, Eve, I say, isn't the thundering old
+dingy room bright now?--you spin me your own yarn, if you will be so
+good. Here you are, safe and sound, the Lord be praised! But I left
+you under the lee of that thundering island: wasn't very polite, was
+it? but you will excuse, won't you? Duty, you know--a seaman must
+leave his pleasure for his duty. Tell me, now, how did you come on?
+Was the vessel comfortable? You would not sail till the wind fell? Had
+you a good voyage? A tiresome one, I am afraid: the sloop wasn't built
+for fast sailing. When did you land?"
+
+To this fire of eager questions Lucy was in no state to answer. "Oh,
+no, Mr. Dodd," she cried, "I can't. I am choking. Yes, Miss Dodd, I am
+the heartless, unfeeling girl you think me." Then, with a sudden dart,
+she took David's hand and kissed it, and, both her hands hiding her
+blushing face, she fled, and a single sob she let fall at the door was
+the last of her. So sudden was her exit, it left both brother and
+sister stupefied.
+
+"Eve, she is offended," said David, with dismay.
+
+"What if she is?" retorted Eve; "no, she is not offended; but I have
+made her feel at last, and a good job, too. Why should she escape? she
+has done all the mischief. Come, you go to bed."
+
+"Not I; I have been long enough on my beam-ends. And I have heard her
+voice, and have seen her face, and they have put life into me. I shall
+cruise about the port. I have gone to leeward of John Company's favor,
+but there are plenty of coasting-vessels; I may get the command of
+one. I'll try; a seaman never strikes his flag while there's a shot in
+the locker."
+
+
+"Here, put me up, Captain Kenealy! Oh, do pray make haste! don't
+dawdle so!" Off cantered Lucy, and fanned her pony along without
+mercy. At the door of the house she jumped off without assistance, and
+ran to Mr. Bazalgette's study, and knocked hastily, and that gentleman
+was not a little surprised when this unusual visitor came to his side
+with some signs of awe at having penetrated his sanctum, but evidently
+driven by an overpowering excitement. "Oh, Uncle Bazalgette! Oh, Uncle
+Bazalgette!"
+
+"Why, what is the matter? Why, the child is ill. Don't gasp like that,
+Lucy. Come, pluck up courage; I am sure to be on your side, you know.
+What is it?"
+
+"Uncle, you are always so kind to me; you know you are."
+
+"Oh, am I? Noble old fellow!"
+
+"Oh, don't make me laugh! ha! ha! oh! oh! oh! ha! oh!"
+
+"Confound it, I have sent her into hysterics; no, she is coming round.
+Ten thousand million devils, has anybody been insulting the child in
+my house? They have. My wife, for a guinea."
+
+"No, no, no. It is about Mr. Dodd."
+
+"Mr. Dodd? oho!"
+
+"I have ruined him."
+
+"How have you managed that, my dear?"
+
+Then Lucy, all in a flutter, told Mr. Bazalgette what the reader has
+just learned.
+
+He looked grave. "Lucy," said he, "be frank with me. Is not Mr. Dodd
+in love with you?"
+
+"I _will_ be frank with _you,_ dear uncle, because you are
+frank. Poor Mr. Dodd did love me once; but I refused him, and so his
+good sense and manliness cured him directly."
+
+"So, now that he no longer loves you, you love him; that is so like
+you girls."
+
+"Oh, no, uncle; how ridiculous! If I loved Mr. Dodd, I could repair
+the cruel injuries I have done him with a single word. I have only to
+recall my refusal, and he--But I do not love Mr. Dodd. Esteem him I
+do, and he has saved my life; and is he to lose his health, and his
+character, and his means of honorable ambition for that? Do you not
+see how shocking this is, and how galling to my pride? Yes, uncle, I
+_have_ been insulted. His sister told me to my face it was an
+evil day for him when he and I first met--that was at Uncle
+Fountain's."
+
+"Well, and what am I to do, Lucy?"
+
+"Dear Uncle, what I thought was, if you would be so kind as to use
+your influence with the Company in his favor. Tell them that if he did
+miss his ship it was not by a fault, but by a noble virtue; tell them
+that it was to save a fellow creature's life--a young lady's life--one
+that did not deserve it from him, your own niece's; tell them it is
+not for your honor he should be disgraced. Oh, uncle, you know what to
+say so much better than I do."
+
+Bazalgette grinned, and straightway resolved to perpetrate a practical
+joke, and a very innocent one. "Well," said he, "the best way I can
+think of to meet your views will be, I think, to get him appointed to
+the new ship the Company is building."
+
+Lucy opened her eyes, and the blood rushed to her cheek. "Oh uncle, do
+I hear right? a ship? Are you so powerful? are you so kind? do you
+love your poor niece so well as all this? Oh, Uncle Bazalgette!"
+
+"There is no end to my power," said the old man, solemnly; "no limit
+to my goodness, no bounds to my love for my poor niece. Are you in a
+hurry, my poor niece? Shall we have his commission down to-morrow, or
+wait a month?"
+
+"To-morrow? is it possible? Oh, yes! I count the minutes till I say to
+his sister, 'There, Miss Dodd, I have friends who value me too highly
+to let me lie under these galling obligations.' Dear, dear uncle, I
+don't mind being under them to you, because I love you" (kisses).
+
+"And not Mr. Dodd?"
+
+"No, dear; and that is the reason I would rather give him a ship
+than--the only other thing that would make him happy. And really, but
+for your goodness, I should have been tempted to--ha! ha! Oh, I am so
+happy now. No; much as I admire my preserver's courage and delicacy
+and unselfishness and goodness, I don't love him; so, but for this, he
+MUST have been unhappy for life, and then I should have been miserable
+forever."
+
+"Perfectly clear and satisfactory, my dear. Now, if the commission is
+to be down to-morrow, you must not stay here, because I have other
+letters to write, to go by the same courier that takes my application
+for the ship."
+
+"And do you really think I will go till I have kissed you, Uncle
+Bazalgette?"
+
+"On a subject so important, I hardly venture to give an opin--hallo!
+kissing, indeed? Why, it is like a young wolf flying at horseflesh."
+
+"Then that will teach you not to be kinder to me than anybody else
+is."
+
+Lucy ran out radiant and into the garden. Here she encountered
+Kenealy, and, coming on him with a blaze of beauty and triumph, fired
+a resolution that had smoldered in him a day or two.
+
+He twirled his mustache and--popped briefly.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+AFTER the first start of rueful astonishment, the indignation of the
+just fired Lucy's eyes.
+
+She scolded him well. "Was this his return for all her late kindness?"
+
+She hinted broadly at the viper of Aesop, and indicated more faintly
+an animal that, when one bestows the choicest favors on it, turns and
+rends one. Then, becoming suddenly just to the brute creation, she
+said: "No, it is only your abominable sex that would behave so
+perversely, so ungratefully."
+
+"Don't understand," drawled Kenealy, "I thought you would laike it."
+
+"Well, you see, I don't laike it."
+
+"You seemed to be getting rather spooney on me."
+
+"Spooney! what is that? one of your mess-room terms, I suppose."
+
+"Yaas; so I thought you waunted me to pawp."
+
+"Captain Kenealy, this subterfuge is unworthy of you. You know
+perfectly well why I distinguished you. Others pestered me with their
+attachments and nonsense, and you spared me that annoyance. In return,
+I did all in my power to show you the grateful friendship I thought
+you worthy of. But you have broken faith; you have violated the clear,
+though tacit understanding that subsisted between us, and I am very
+angry with you. I have some little influence left with my aunt, sir,
+and, unless I am much mistaken, you will shortly rejoin the army,
+sir."
+
+"What a boa! what a dem'd boa!"
+
+"And don't swear; that is another foolish custom you gentlemen have;
+it is almost as foolish as the other. Yes, I'll tell my aunt of you,
+and then you will see."
+
+"What a boa! How horrid spaiteful you are."
+
+"Well, I am rather vindictive. But my aunt is ten times worse, as her
+deserter shall find, unless--"
+
+"Unless whawt?"
+
+"Unless you beg my pardon directly." And at this part of the
+conversation Lucy was fain to turn her head away, for she found it
+getting difficult to maintain that severe countenance which she
+thought necessary to clothe her words with terror, and subjugate the
+gallant captain.
+
+"Well, then, I apolojaize," said Kenealy.
+
+"And I accept your apology; and don't do it again."
+
+"I won't, 'pon honaa. Look heah; I swear I didn't mean to affront yah;
+I don't waunt yah to mayrry me; I only proposed out of civility."
+
+"Come, then, it was not so black as it appeared. Courtesy is a good
+thing; and if you thought that, after staying a month in a house, you
+were bound by etiquette to propose to the marriageable part of it, it
+is pardonable, only don't do it again, _please."_
+
+"I'll take caa--I'll take caa. I say your tempaa is not--quite--what
+those other fools think it is--no, by Jove;" and the captain glared.
+
+"Nonsense: I am only a little fiendish on this one point. Well, then,
+steer clear of it, and you will find me a good crechaa on every
+other."
+
+Kenealy vowed he would profit by the advice.
+
+"Then there is my hand: we are friends again."
+
+"You won't tell your aunt, nor the other fellaas?"
+
+"Captain Kenealy, I am not one of your garrison ladies; I am a young
+person who has been educated; your extra civility will never be known
+to a soul: and you shall not join the army but as a volunteer."
+
+"Then, dem me, Miss Fountain, if I wouldn't be cut in pieces to
+oblaige you. Just you tray me, and you'll faind, if I am not very
+braight, I am a man of honah. If those ether begaas annoy you, jaast
+tell me, and I'll parade 'em at twelve paces, dem me."
+
+"I must try and find some less insane vent for your friendly feelings;
+and what can I do for you?"
+
+"Yah couldn't go on pretending to be spooney on me, could yah?"
+
+"Oh, no, no. What for?"
+
+"I laike it; makes the other begaas misable."
+
+"What worthy sentiments! it is a sin to balk them. I am sure there is
+no reason why I should not appear to adore you in public, so long as
+you let me keep my distance in private; but persons of my sex cannot
+do just what they would like. We have feelings that pull us this way
+and that, and, after all this, I am afraid I shall never have the
+courage to play those pranks with you again; and that is a pity, since
+it amused you, and teased those that tease me."
+
+In short, the house now contained two "holy alliances" instead of one.
+Unfortunately for Lucy, the hostile one was by far the stronger of the
+two; and even now it was preparing a terrible coup.
+
+This evening the storm that was preparing blew good to one of a
+depressed class, which cannot fail to gratify the just.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette. "Jane, come to my room a minute; I have
+something for you. Here is a cashmere gown and cloak; the cloak I
+want; I can wear it with anything; but you may have the gown."
+
+"Oh, thank you, mum; it is beautiful, and a'most as good as new. I am
+sure, mum, I am very much obliged to you for your kindness."
+
+"No, no, you are a good girl, and a sensible girl. By the by, you
+might give me your opinion upon something. Does Miss Lucy prefer any
+one of our guests? You understand me."
+
+"Well, mum, it is hard to say. Miss Lucy is as reserved as ever."
+
+"Oh, I thought she might--ahem!"
+
+"No, mum, I do assure you, not a word."
+
+"Well, but you are a shrewd girl; tell me what you think: now, for
+instance, suppose she was compelled to choose between, say Mr. Hardie
+and Mr. Talboys, which would it be?"
+
+"Well, mum, if you ask my opinion, I don't think Miss Lucy is the one
+to marry a fool; and by all accounts, there's a deal more in Mr.
+Hardies's head than what there isn't in Mr. Talboysese's."
+
+"You are a clever girl. You shall have the cloak as well, and, if my
+niece marries, you shall remain in her service all the same."
+
+"Thank you kindly, mum. I don't desire no better mistress, married or
+single; and Mr. Hardies is much respected in the town, and heaps o'
+money; so miss and me we couldn't do no better, neither of us. Your
+servant, mum, and thanks you for your bounty"; and Jane courtesied
+twice and went off with the spoils.
+
+In the corridor she met old Fountain. "Stop, Jane," said he, "I want
+to speak to you."
+
+"At your service, sir."
+
+"In the first place, I want to give you something to buy a new gown";
+and he took out a couple of sovereigns. "Where am I to put them? in
+your breast-pocket?"
+
+"Put them under the cloak, sir," murmured Jane, tenderly. She loved
+sovereigns.
+
+He put his hand under the heap of cashmere, and a quick little claw
+hit the coins and closed on them by almighty instinct.
+
+"Now I want to ask your opinion. Is my niece in love with anyone?"
+
+"Well, Mr. Fountains, if she is she don't show it."
+
+"But doesn't she like one man better than another?"
+
+"You may take your oath of that, if we could but get to her mind."
+
+"Which does she like best, this Hardie or Mr. Talboys? Come, tell me,
+now."
+
+"Well, sir, you know Mr. Talboys is an old acquaintance, and like
+brother and sister at Font Abbey. I do suppose she have been a scare
+of times alone with him for one, with Mr. Hardie's. That she should
+take up with a stranger and jilt an old acquaintance, now is it
+feasible?"
+
+"Why, of course not. It was a foolish question; you are a young woman
+of sense. Here's a 5 pound note for you. You must not tell I spoke to
+you."
+
+"Now is it likely, sir? My character would be broken forever."
+
+"And you shall be with my niece when she is Mrs. Talboys."
+
+"I might do worse, sir, and so might she. He is respected far and
+wide, and a grand house, and a carriage and four, and everything to
+make a lady comfortable. Your servant, sir, and wishes you many
+thanks."
+
+"And such as Jane was, all true servants are."
+
+The ancients used to bribe the Oracle of Delphi. Curious.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+Lucy's twenty-first birthday dawned, but it was not to her the gay
+exulting day it is to some. Last night her uncle and aunt had gone a
+step further, and, instead of kissing her ceremoniously, had evaded
+her. They were drawing matters to a climax: once of age, each day
+would make her more independent in spirit as in circumstances. This
+morning she hoped custom would shield her from unkindness for one day
+at least. But no, they made it clear there was but one way back to
+their smiles. Their congratulations at the breakfast-table were cold
+and constrained; her heart fell; and long before noon on her birthday
+she was crying. Thus weakened, she had to encounter a thoroughly
+prepared attack. Mr. Bazalgette summoned her to his study at one
+o'clock, and there she found him and Mrs. Bazalgette and Mr. Fountain
+seated solemnly in conclave. The merchant was adding up figures.
+
+"Come, now, business," said he. "Dick has added them up: his figures
+are in that envelope; break the seal and open it, Lucy. If his total
+corresponds with mine, we are right; if not, I am wrong, and you will
+all have to go over it with me till we are right." A general groan
+followed this announcement. Luckily, the sum totals corresponded to a
+fraction.
+
+Then Mr. Bazalgette made Lucy a little speech.
+
+"My dear, in laying down that office which your amiable nature has
+rendered so agreeable, I feel a natural regret on your account that
+the property my colleague there and I have had to deal with on your
+account has not been more important. However, as far as it goes, we
+have been fortunate. Consols have risen amazingly since we took you
+off land and funded you. The rise in value of your little capital
+since your mother's death is calculated on this card. You have, also,
+some loose cash, which I will hand over to you immediately. Let me
+see--eleven hundred and sixty pounds and five shillings. Write your
+name in full on that paper, Lucy."
+
+He touched a bell; a servant came. He wrote a line and folded it,
+inclosing Lucy's signature.
+
+"Let this go to Mr. Hardie's bank immediately. Hardie will give you
+three per cent for your money. Better than nothing. You must have a
+check-book. He sent me a new one yesterday. Here it is; you shall have
+it. I wonder whether you know how to draw a check?"
+
+"No, uncle."
+
+"Look here, then. You note the particulars first on this counter-foil,
+which thus serves in some degree for an account-book. In drawing the
+check, place the sum in letters close to these printed words, and the
+sum in figures close to the pound. For want of this precaution, the
+holder of the check has been known to turn a 10 pound check into 110
+pounds."
+
+"Oh how wicked!"
+
+"Mind what you say. Dexterity is the only virtue left in England; so
+we must be on our guard, especially in what we write with our name
+attached."
+
+"I must say, Mr. Bazalgette, you are unwise to put such a sum of money
+into a young girl's hands."
+
+"The young girl has been a woman an hour and ten minutes, and come
+into her property, movables, and cash aforesaid."
+
+"If you were her real friend, you would take care of her money for her
+till she marries."
+
+"The eighth commandment, my dear, the eighth commandment, and other
+primitive axioms: _suum cuique,_ and such odd sayings: 'Him as
+keeps what isn't hisn, soon or late shall go to prison,' with similar
+apothegms. Total: let us keep the British merchant and the Newgate
+thief as distinct as the times permit. Fountain and Bazalgette,
+account squared, books closed, and I'm off!"
+
+"Oh, uncle, pray stay!" said Lucy. "When you are by me, Rectitude and
+Sense seem present in person, and I can lean on them."
+
+"Lean on yourself; the law has cut your leading-strings. Why patch
+'em? It has made you a woman from a baby. Rise to your new rank.
+Rectitude and Sense are just as much wanted in the town of ----, where
+I am due, as they are in this house. Besides, Sense has spoken
+uninterrupted for ten minutes; prodigious! so now it is Nonsense's
+turn for the next ten hours." He made for the door; then suddenly
+returning, said: "I will leave a grain of sense, etc., behind me. What
+is marriage? Do you give it up? Marriage is a contract. Who are the
+parties? the papas and mammas, uncles and aunts? By George, you would
+think so to hear them talk. No, the contract is between two parties,
+and these two only. It is a printed contract. Anybody can read it
+gratis. None but idiots sign a contract without reading it; none but
+knaves sign a contract which, having read, they find they cannot
+execute. Matrimony is a mercantile affair; very well, then, import
+into it sound mercantile morality. Go to market; sell well; but, d--n
+it all, deliver the merchandise as per sample, viz., a woman warranted
+to love, honor and obey the purchaser. If you swindle the other
+contracting party in the essentials of the contract, don't complain
+when you are unhappy. Are shufflers entitled to happiness? and what
+are those who shuffle and prevaricate in a church any better than
+those who shuffle and prevaricate in a counting-house?" and the brute
+bolted.
+
+"My husband is a worthy man," said Mrs. Bazalgette, languidly, "but
+now and then he makes me blush for him."
+
+"Our good friend is a humorist," replied Fountain, good-humoredly,
+"and dearly loves a paradox"; and they pooh-poohed him without a
+particle of malice.
+
+Then Mrs. Bazalgette turned to Lucy, and hoped that she did her the
+justice to believe she had none but affectionate motives in wishing to
+see her speedily established.
+
+"Oh no, aunt," said Lucy. "Why should you wish to part with me? I give
+you but little trouble in your great house."
+
+"Trouble, child? you know you are a comfort to have in any house."
+
+This pleased Lucy; it was the first gracious word for a long time.
+Having thus softened her, Mrs. Bazalgette proceeded to attack her by
+all the weaknesses of her sex and age, and for a good hour pressed her
+so hard that the tears often gushed from Lucy's eyes over her red
+cheeks. The girl was worn by the length of the struggle and the
+pertinacity of the assault. She was as determined as ever to do
+nothing, but she had no longer the power to resist in words. Seeing
+her reduced to silence, and not exactly distinguishing between
+impassibility and yielding, Mrs. Bazalgette delivered the
+_coup-de-grace._
+
+"I must now tell you plainly, Lucy, that your character is compromised
+by being out all night with persons of the other sex. I would have
+spared you this, but your resistance compels those who love you to
+tell you all. Owing to that unfortunate trip, you are in such a
+situation that you _must_ marry."
+
+"The world is surely not so unjust as all this," sighed Lucy.
+
+"You don't know the world as I do," was the reply. "And those who live
+in it cannot defy it. I tell you plainly, Lucy, neither your uncle nor
+I can keep you any longer, except as an engaged person. And even that
+engagement ought to be a very short one."
+
+"What, aunt? what, uncle? your house is no longer mine?" and she
+buried her head upon the table.
+
+"Well, Lucy," said Mr. Fountain, "of course we would not have told you
+this yesterday. It would have been ungenerous. But you are now your
+own mistress; you are independent. Young persons in your situation can
+generally forget in a day or two a few years of kindness. You have now
+an opportunity of showing us whether you are one of that sort."
+
+Here Mrs. Bazalgette put in her word. "You will not lack people to
+encourage you in ingratitude--perhaps my husband himself; but if he
+does, it will make a lasting breach between him and me, of which you
+will have been the cause."
+
+"Heaven forbid!" said Lucy, with a shudder. "Why should dear Mr.
+Bazalgette be drawn into my troubles? He is no relation of mine, only
+a loyal friend, whom may God bless and reward for his kindness to a
+poor fatherless, motherless girl. Aunt, uncle, if you will let me stay
+with you, I will be more kind, more attentive to you than I have been.
+Be persuaded; be advised. If you succeeded in getting rid of me, you
+might miss me, indeed you might. I know all your little ways so well."
+
+"Lucy, we are not to be tempted to do wrong," said Mrs. Bazalgette,
+sternly. "Choose which of these two offers you will accept. Choose
+which you please. If you refuse both, you must pack up your things,
+and go and live by yourself, or with Mr. Dodd."
+
+"Mr. Dodd? why is his name introduced? Was it necessary to insult me?"
+and her eyes flashed.
+
+"Nobody wishes to insult you, Lucy. And I propose, madam, we give her
+a day to consider."
+
+"Thank you, uncle."
+
+"With all my heart; only, until she decides, she must excuse me if I
+do not treat her with the same affection as I used, and as I hope to
+do again. I am deeply wounded, and I am one that cannot feign."
+
+"You need not fear me, aunt; my heart is turned to ice. I shall never
+intrude that love on which you set no value. May I retire?"
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette looked to Mr. Fountain, and both bowed acquiescence.
+Lucy went out pale, but dry-eyed; despair never looked so lovely, or
+carried its head more proudly.
+
+"I don't like it," said Mr. Fountain. "I am afraid we have driven the
+poor girl too hard."
+
+"What are you afraid of, pray?"
+
+"She looked to me just like a woman who would go and take an ounce of
+laudanum. Poor Lucy! she has been a good niece to me, after all;" and
+the water stood in the old bachelor's eyes.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette tapped him on the shoulder and said archly, but with a
+tone that carried conviction, "She will take no poison. She will hate
+us for an hour; then she will have a good cry: to-morrow she will come
+to our terms; and this day next year she will be very much obliged to
+us for doing what all women like, forcing her to her good with a
+little harshness."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+SAID Lucy as she went from the door, "Thank Heaven, they have insulted
+me!"
+
+This does not sound logical, but that is only because the logic is so
+subtle and swift. She meant something of this kind: "I am of a
+yielding nature; I might have sacrificed myself to retain their
+affection; but they have roused a vice of mine, my pride, against
+them, so now I shall be immovable in right, thanks to my wicked pride.
+Thank Heaven, they have insulted me!" She then laid her head upon her
+bed and moaned, for she was stricken to the heart. Then she rose and
+wrote a hasty note, and, putting it in her bosom, came downstairs and
+looked for Captain Kenealy. He proved to be in the billiard-room,
+playing the spotted ball against the plain one. "Oh, Captain Kenealy,
+I am come to try your friendship; you said I might command you."
+
+"Yaas!"
+
+"Then _will_ you mount my pony, and ride with this to Mrs.
+Wilson, to that farm where I kept you waiting so long, and you were
+not angry as anyone else would have been?"
+
+"Yaas!"
+
+"But not a soul must see it, or know where you are gone."
+
+"All raight, Miss Fountain. Don't you be fraightened; I'm close as the
+grave, and I'll be there in less than haelf an hour."
+
+"Yes; but don't hurt my dear pony either; don't beat him; and, above
+all, don't come back without an answer."
+
+"I'll bring you an answer in an hour and twenty minutes." The captain
+looked at his watch, and went out with a smartness that contrasted
+happily with his slowness of speech.
+
+Lucy went back to her own room and locked herself in, and with
+trembling hands began to pack up her jewels and some of her clothes.
+But when it came to this, wounded pride was sorely taxed by a host of
+reminiscences and tender regrets, and every now and then the tears
+suddenly gushed and fell upon her poor hands as she put things out, or
+patted them flat, to wander on the world.
+
+While she is thus sorrowfully employed, let me try and give an outline
+of the feelings that had now for some time been secretly growing in
+her, since without their co-operation she would never have been driven
+to the strange step she now meditated.
+
+Lucy was a very unselfish and very intelligent girl. The first trait
+had long blinded her to something; the second had lately helped to
+open her eyes.
+
+If ever you find a person quick to discover selfishness in others, be
+sure that person is selfish; for it is only the selfish who come into
+habitual collision with selfishness, and feel how sharp-pointed a
+thing it is. When Unselfish meets Selfish, each acts after his kind;
+Unselfish gives way, Selfish holds his course, and so neither is
+thwarted, and neither finds out the other's character.
+
+Lucy, then, of herself, would never have discovered her relatives'
+egotism. But they helped her, and she was too bright not to see
+anything that was properly pointed out to her.
+
+When Fountain kept showing and proving Mrs. Bazalgette's egotism, and
+Mrs. Bazalgette kept showing and proving Mr. Fountain's egotism, Lucy
+ended by seeing both their egotisms, as clearly as either could
+desire; and, as she despised egotism, she lost her respect for both
+these people, and let them convince her they were both persons against
+whom she must be on her guard.
+
+This was the direct result of their mines and countermines heretofore
+narrated, but not the only result. It followed indirectly, but
+inevitably, that the present holy alliance failed. Lucy had not
+forgotten the past; and to her this seemed not a holy, but an unholy,
+hollow, and empty alliance.
+
+"They hate one another," said she, "but it seems they hate me worse,
+since they can hide their mutual dislike to combine against poor me."
+
+Another thing: Lucy was one of those women who thirst for love, and,
+though not vain enough to be always showing they think they ought to
+be beloved, have quite secret _amour propre_ enough to feel at
+the bottom of their hearts that they were sent here to that end, and
+that it is a folly and a shame not to love them more or less.
+
+If ever Madame Ristori plays "Maria Stuarda" within a mile of you, go
+and see her. Don't chatter: you can do that at home; attend to the
+scene; the worst play ever played is not so unimproving as chit-chat.
+Then, when the scaffold is even now erected, and the poor queen, pale
+and tearful, palpitates in death's grasp, you shall see her suddenly
+illumined with a strange joy, and hear her say, with a marvelous burst
+of feminine triumph,
+
+           "I have been _amata molto!!!"_
+
+Uttered, under a scaffold, as the Italian utters it, this line is a
+revelation of womanhood.
+
+The English virgin of our humbler tale had a soul full of this
+feeling, only she had never learned to set the love of sex above other
+loves; but, mark you, for that very reason, a mortal insult to her
+heart from her beloved relatives was as mortifying, humiliating and
+unpardonable as is, to other high-spirited girls, an insult from their
+favored lover.
+
+What could she do more than she had done to win their love? No, their
+hearts were inaccessible to her.
+
+"They wish to get rid of me. Well, they shall. They refuse me their
+houses. Well, I will show them the value of their houses to me. It was
+their hearts I clung to, not their houses."
+
+
+A tap came to Lucy's door.
+
+"Who is that? I am busy."
+
+"Oh, miss!" said an agitated voice, "may I speak to you--the captain!"
+
+"What captain?" inquired Lucy, without opening the door.
+
+"Knealys, miss.
+
+"I will come out to you. Now. Has Captain Kenealy returned already?"
+
+"La! no, miss. He haven't been anywhere as I know of. He had them
+about him as couldn't spare him."
+
+"Something is the matter, Jane. What is it?"
+
+Jane lowered her voice mysteriously. "Well, miss, the captain is--in
+trouble."
+
+"Oh, dear, what has happened?"
+
+"Well, the fact is, miss, the captain's--took"
+
+"I cannot understand you. Pray speak intelligibly."
+
+"Arrested, miss."
+
+"Captain Kenealy arrested! Oh, Heaven! for what crime?"
+
+"La, miss, no crime at all--leastways not so considered by the gentry.
+He is only took in payment of them beautiful reg-mentals. However,
+black or red, he is always well put on. I am sure he looks just out of
+a band-box; and I got it all out of one of the men as it's a army
+tailor, which he wrote again and again, and sent his bill, and the
+captain he took no notice; then the tailor he sent him a writ, and the
+captain he took no notice; then the tailor he lawed him, but the
+captain he kep' on a taking no more notice nor if it was a dog a
+barking, and then a putting all them ere barks one after another in a
+letter, and sending them by the post; so the end is, the captain is
+arrested; and now he behooves to attend a bit to what is a going on
+around an about him, as the saying is, and so he is waiting to pay you
+his respects before he starts for Bridewell."
+
+"My fatal advice! I ruin all my friends."
+
+"Keep dark," says he; "don't tell a soul except Miss Fountain."
+
+"Where is he? Oh?"
+
+Jane offered to show her that, and took her to the stable yard.
+Arriving with a face full of tender pity and concern, Lucy was not a
+little surprised to find the victim smoking cigars in the center of
+his smoking captors. The men touched their hats, and Captain Kenealy
+said: "Isn't it a boa, Miss Fountain? they won't let me do your little
+commission. In London they will go anywhere with a fellaa."
+
+"London ye knows," explained the assistant, "but this here is full of
+hins and houts, and folyidge."
+
+"Oh, sir," cried Lucy to the best-dressed captor, "surely you will not
+be so cruel as to take a gentleman like Captain Kenealy to prison?"
+
+"Very sorry, marm, but we 'ave no hoption: takes 'em every day; don't
+we, Bill?"
+
+Bill nodded.
+
+"But, sir, as it is only for money, can you not be induced
+by--by--money--"
+
+"Bill, lady's going to pay the debtancosts. Show her the ticket. Debt
+eighty pund, costs seven pund eighteen six."
+
+"What! will you liberate him if I pay you eighty-eight pounds?"
+
+"Well, marm, to oblige you we will; won't we, Bill?"
+
+He winked. Bill nodded.
+
+"Then pray stay here a minute, and this shall be arranged to your
+entire satisfaction"; and she glided swiftly away, followed by Jane,
+wriggling.
+
+"Quite the lady, Bill."
+
+"Kevite. Captn is in luck. Hare ve to be at the vedding, capn?"
+
+"Dem your impudence! I'll cross-buttock yah!"
+
+"Hold your tongue, Bill--queering a gent. Draw it mild, captain.
+Debtancosts ain't paid yet. Here they come, though."
+
+Lucy returned swiftly, holding aloft a slip of paper.
+
+"There, sir, that is a check for 90 pounds; it is the same thing as
+money, you are doubtless aware." The man took it and inspected it
+keenly.
+
+"Very sorry, marm, but can't take it. It's a lady's check."
+
+"What! is it not written properly?"
+
+"Beautiful, marm. But when we takes these beautiful-wrote checks to
+the bank, the cry is always, 'No assets.'"
+
+"But Uncle Bazalgette said everybody would give me money for it."
+
+"What! is Mr. Bazalgette your uncle, marm? then you go to him, and get
+his check in place of yours, and the captain will be free as the birds
+in the hair."
+
+"Oh, thank you, sir," cried Lucy, and the next minute she was in Mr.
+Bazalgette's study. "Uncle, don't be angry with me: it is for no
+unworthy purpose; only don't ask me; it might mortify another; but
+_would_ you give me a check of your own for mine? They will not
+receive mine."
+
+Mr. Bazalgette looked grave, and even sad; but he sat quietly down
+without a word, and drew her a check, taking hers, which he locked in
+his desk. The tears were in Lucy's eyes at his gravity and his
+delicacy. "Some day I will tell you," said she. "I have nothing to
+reproach myself, indeed--indeed."
+
+"Make the rogue--or jade--give you a receipt," groaned Bazalgette.
+
+"All right, marm, this time. Captain, the world is hall before you
+where to chewse. But this is for ninety, marm;" and he put his hand
+very slowly into his pocket.
+
+"Do me the favor to keep the rest for your trouble, sir."
+
+"Trouble's a pleasure, marm. It is not often we gets a tip for taking
+a gent. Ve are funk shin hairies as is not depreciated, mam, and the
+more genteel we takes 'em the rougher they cuts; and the very women no
+more like you nor dark to light; but flies at us like ryal Bengal
+tigers, through taking of us for the creditors."
+
+"Verehas we hare honly servants of the ke veen;" suggested No. 2,
+hashing his mistress's English.
+
+"Stow your gab, Bill, and mizzle. Let the captain thank the lady.
+Good-day, marm."
+
+
+"Oh, my poor friend, what language! and my ill advice threw you into
+their company!"
+
+Captain Kenealy told her, in his brief way, that the circumstance was
+one of no import, except in so far as it had impeded his discharge of
+his duty to her. He then mounted the pony, which had been waiting for
+him more than half an hour.
+
+"But it is five o'clock," said Lucy; "you will be too late for
+dinner."
+
+"Dinner be dem--d," drawled the man of action, and rode off like a
+flash.
+
+"It is to be, then," said Lucy, and her heart ebbed. It had ebbed and
+flowed a good many times in the last hour or two.
+
+Captain Kenealy reappeared in the middle of dinner. Lucy scanned his
+face, but it was like the outside of a copy-book, and she was on
+thorns. Being too late, he lost his place near her at dinner, and she
+could not whisper to him. However, when the ladies retired he opened
+the door, and Lucy let fall a word at his feet: "Come up before the
+rest."
+
+Acting on this order, Kenealy came up, and found Lucy playing sad
+tunes softly on the piano and Mrs. Bazalgette absent. She was trying
+something on upstairs. He gave Lucy a note from Mrs. Wilson. She
+opened it, and the joyful color suffused her cheek, and she held out
+her hand to him; but, as she turned her head away mighty prettily at
+the same time, she did not see the captain was proffering a second
+document, and she was a little surprised when, instead of a warm
+grasp, all friendship and no love, a piece of paper was shoved into
+her delicate palm. She took it; looked first at Kenealy, then at it,
+and was sore puzzled.
+
+The document was in Kenealy's handwriting, and at first Lucy thought
+it must be intended as a mere specimen of caligraphy; for not only was
+it beautifully written, but in letters of various sizes. There were
+three gigantic vowels, I. O. U. There were little wee notifications of
+time and place, and other particulars of medium size. The general
+result was that Henry Kenealy O'd Lucy Fountain ninety pound for value
+received per loan. Lucy caught at the meaning. "But, my dear friend,"
+said she, innocently, "you mistake. I did not lend it you; I meant to
+give it you. Will you not accept it? Are we not friends?"
+
+"Much oblaiged. Couldn't do it. Dishonable."
+
+"Oh, pray do not let me wound your pride. I know what it is to have
+one's pride wounded; call it a loan if you wish. But, dear friend,
+what am I to do with this?"
+
+"When you want the money, order your man of business to present it to
+me, and, if I don't pay, lock me up, for I shall deserve it."
+
+"I think I understand. This is a memorandum--a sort of reminder."
+
+"Yaas."
+
+"Then clearly I am not the person to whom it should be given. No; if
+you want to be reminded of this mighty matter, put this in your desk;
+if it gets into mine, you will never see it again; I will give you
+fair warning. There--hide it--quick--here they come."
+
+They did come, all but Mr. Bazalgette, who was at work in his study.
+Mr. Talboys came up to the piano and said gravely, "Miss Fountain, are
+you aware of the fate of the lugger--of the boat we went out in?"
+
+Indeed I am. I have sent the poor widow some clothes and a little
+money."
+
+"I have only just been informed of it," said Mr. Talboys, "and I feel
+under considerable obligations to Mr. Dodd."
+
+"The feeling does you credit."
+
+"Should you meet him, will you do me the honor to express my gratitude
+to him?"
+
+"I would, with pleasure, Mr. Talboys, but there is no chance whatever
+of my seeing Mr. Dodd. His sister is staying in Market Street, No. 80,
+and if you would call on them or write to them, it would be a
+kindness, and I think they would both feel it."
+
+"Humph!" said Talboys, doubtfully. Here a servant stepped up to Miss
+Fountain. "Master would be glad to see you in his study, miss."
+
+
+"I have got something for you, Lucy. I know what it is, so run away
+with it, and read it in your own room, for I am busy." He handed her a
+long sealed packet. She took it, trembling, and flew to her own room
+with it, like a hawk carrying off a little bird to its nest. She broke
+the enormous seal and took out the inclosure. It was David Dodd's
+commission. He was captain of the _Rajah,_ the new ship of eleven
+hundred tons' burden.
+
+While she gazes at it with dilating eye and throbbing heart, I may as
+well undeceive the reader. This was not really effected in forty-eight
+hours. Bazalgette only pretended that, partly out of fun, partly out
+of nobility. Ever since a certain interview in his study with David
+Dodd, who was a man after his own heart, he had taken a note, and had
+worked for him with "the Company;" for Bazalgette was one of those
+rare men who reduce performance to a certainty long before they
+promise. His promises were like pie-crust made to be eaten, and eaten
+hot.
+
+Lucy came out of her room, and at the same moment issued forth from
+hers Mrs. Bazalgette in a fine new dress. It was that black
+_glace;_ silk, divested of gloom by cheerful accessories, in
+which she had threatened to mourn eternally Lucy's watery fate. Fire
+flashed from the young lady's eyes at the sight of it. She went down
+to her uncle, muttering between her ivory teeth: "All the same--all
+the same;" and her heart flowed. The next minute, at sight of Mr.
+Bazalgette it ebbed. She came into his room, saying: "Oh, Uncle
+Bazalgette, it is not to thank you--that I can never do worthily; it
+is to ask another favor. Do, pray, let me spend this evening with you;
+let me be where you are. I will be as still as a mouse. See, I have
+brought some work; or, if you _would_ but let me help you.
+Indeed, uncle, I am not a fool. I am very quick to learn at the
+bidding of those I love. Let me write your letters for you, or fold
+them up, or direct them, or something--do, pray!"
+
+"Oh, the caprices of young ladies! Well, can you write large and
+plain? Not you."
+
+"I can _imitate_ anything or anybody."
+
+"Imitate this hand then. I'll walk and dictate, you sit and write."
+
+"Oh, how nice!"
+
+"Delicious! The first is to--Hetherington. Now, Lucy, this is a
+dishonest, ungrateful old rogue, who has made thousands by me, and now
+wants to let me into a mine, with nothing in it but water. It would
+suck up twenty thousand pounds as easily as that blotting-paper will
+suck up our signature."
+
+"Heartless traitor! monster!" cried Lucy.
+
+"Are you ready?"
+
+"Yes," and her eye flashed and the pen was to her a stiletto.
+
+Bazalgette dictated, "My dear Sir--"
+
+"What? to a cheat?"
+
+"Custom, child. I'll have a stamp made. Besides, if we let them see we
+see through them, they would play closer and closer--"
+
+"My dear Sir--In answer to yours of date 11th instant, I regret to
+say--that circumstances prevent--my closing--with your obliging--and
+friendly offer."
+
+
+They wrote eight letters; and Lucy's quick fingers folded up
+prospectuses, and her rays brightened the room. When the work was
+done, she clung round Mr. Bazalgette and caressed him, and seemed
+strangely unwilling to part with him at all; in fact, it was twelve
+o'clock, and the drawing-room empty, when they parted.
+
+At one o'clock the whole house was dark except one room, and both
+windows of that room blazed with light. And it happened there was a
+spectator of this phenomenon. A man stood upon the grass and eyed
+those lights as if they were the stars of his destiny.
+
+It was David Dodd. Poor David! he had struck a bargain, and was to
+command a coasting vessel, and carry wood from the Thames to our
+southern ports. An irresistible impulse brought him to look, before he
+sailed, on the place that held the angel who had destroyed his
+prospects, and whom he loved as much as ever, though he was too proud
+to court a second refusal.
+
+"She watches, too," thought David, "but it is not for me, as I for
+her."
+
+At half past one the lights began to dance before his wearied eyes,
+and presently David, weakened by his late fever, dozed off and forgot
+all his troubles, and slept as sweetly on the grass as he had often
+slept on the hard deck, with his head upon a gun.
+
+Luck was against the poor fellow. He had not been unconscious much
+more than ten minutes when Lucy's window opened and she looked out;
+and he never saw her. Nor did she see him; for, though the moon was
+bright, it was not shining on him; he lay within the shadow of a tree.
+But Lucy did see something--a light upon the turnpike road about forty
+yards from Mr. Bazalgette's gates. She slipped cautiously down, a
+band-box in her hand, and, unbolting the door that opened on the
+garden, issued out, passed within a few yards of Dodd, and went round
+to the front, and finally reached the turnpike road. There she found
+Mrs. Wilson, with a light-covered cart and horse, and a lantern. At
+sight of her Mrs. Wilson put out the light, and they embraced; then
+they spoke in whispers.
+
+"Come, darling, don't tremble; have you got much more?"
+
+"Oh, yes, several things."
+
+"Look at that, now! But, dear heart, I was the same at your age, and
+should be now, like enough. Fetch them all, as quick as you like. I am
+feared to leave Blackbird, or I'd help you down with 'em."
+
+"Is there nobody with you to take care of us?"
+
+"What do you mean--men folk? Not if I know it."
+
+"You are right. You are wise. Oh, how courageous!" And she went back
+for her finery. And certain it is she had more baggage than I should
+choose for a forced march.
+
+But all has an end--even a female luggage train; so at last she put
+out all her lights and came down, stepping like a fairy, with a large
+basket in her hand.
+
+Now it happened that by this time the moon's position was changed, and
+only a part of David lay in the shade; his head and shoulders
+glittered in broad moonlight; and Lucy, taking her farewell of a house
+where she had spent many happy days, cast her eyes all around to bid
+good-by, and spied a man lying within a few paces, and looking like a
+corpse in the silver sheen. She dropped her basket; her knees knocked
+together with fear, and she flew toward Mrs. Wilson. But she did not
+go far, for the features, indistinct as they were by distance and pale
+light, struck her mind, and she stopped and looked timidly over her
+shoulder. The figure never moved. Then, with beating heart, she went
+toward him slowly and so stealthily that she would have passed a mouse
+without disturbing it, and presently she stood by him and looked down
+on him as he lay.
+
+And as she looked at him lying there, so pale, so uncomplaining, so
+placid, under her windows, this silent proof of love, and the thought
+of the raging sea this helpless form had steered her through, and all
+he had suffered as well as acted for her, made her bosom heave, and
+stirred all that was woman within her. He loved her still, then, or
+why was he here? And then the thought that she had done something for
+him too warmed her heart still more toward him. And there was nothing
+for her to repel now, for he lay motionless; there was nothing for her
+to escape--he did not pursue her; nothing to negative--he did not
+propose anything to her. Her instinct of defense had nothing to lay
+hold of; so, womanlike, she had a strong impulse to wake him and be
+kind to him--as kind as she could be without committing herself. But,
+on the other hand, there was shy, trembling, virgin modesty, and shame
+that he should detect her making a midnight evasion, and fear of
+letting him think she loved him.
+
+While she stood thus, with something drawing her on and something
+drawing her back, and palpitating in every fiber, Mrs. Wilson's voice
+was heard in low but anxious tones calling her. A feather turned the
+balanced scale. She must go. Fate had decided for her. She was called.
+Then the sprites of mischief tempted her to let David know she _had
+been_ near him. She longed to put his commission into his pocket;
+but that was impossible. It was at the very bottom of her box. She
+took out her tablets, wrote the word "Adieu," tore out half the leaf,
+and, bending over David, attached the little bit of paper by a pin to
+the tail of his coat. If he had been ever so much awake he could not
+have felt her doing it; for her hand touching him, and the white paper
+settling on his coat, was all done as lights a spot of down on still
+water from the bending neck of a swan.
+
+
+"No, dear Mrs. Wilson, we must not go yet. I will hold the horse, and
+you must go back for me for something."
+
+"I'm agreeable. What is it? Why, what is up? How you do pant!"
+
+"I have made a discovery. There is a gentleman lying asleep there on
+the wet grass."
+
+"Lackadaisy! why, you don't say so."
+
+"It is a friend; and he will catch his death."
+
+"Why, of course he will. He will have had a drop too much, Miss Lucy.
+I'll wake him, and we will take him along home with us."
+
+"Oh, not for the world, nurse. I would not have him see what I am
+doing, oh, not for all the world!"
+
+"Where is he?"
+
+"In there, under the great tree."
+
+"Well, you get into the cart, miss, and hold the reins"; and Mrs.
+Wilson went into the grounds and soon found David.
+
+She put her hand on his shoulder, and he awoke directly, and looked
+surprised at Mrs. Wilson.
+
+"Are you better, sir?" said the good woman. "Why, if it isn't the
+handsome gentleman that was so kind to me! Now do ee go in, sir--do ee
+go in. You will catch your death o' cold." She made sure he was
+staying at the house.
+
+David looked up at Lucy's windows. "Yes, I will go home, Mrs. Wilson;
+there is nothing to stay for now"; and he accompanied her to the cart.
+But Mrs. Wilson remembered Lucy's desire not to be seen; so she said
+very loud, "I'm sure it's very lucky me and _my niece_ happened
+to be coming home so late, and see you lying there. Well, one good
+turn deserves another. Come and see me at my farm; you go through the
+village of Harrowden, and anybody there will tell you where Dame
+Wilson do live. I _would_ ask you to-night, but--" she hesitated,
+and Lucy let down her veil.
+
+"No, thank you, not now; my sister will be fretting as it is.
+Good-morning"; and his steps were heard retreating as Mrs. Wilson
+mounted the cart.
+
+"Well, I should have liked to have taken him home and warmed him a
+bit," said the good woman to Lucy; "it is enough to give him the
+rheumatics for life. However, he is not the first honest man as has
+had a drop too much, and taken 's rest without a feather-bed. Alack,
+miss, why, you are all of a tremble! What ails _you?_ I'm a fool
+to ask. Ah! well, you'll soon be at home, and naught to vex you. That
+is right; have a good cry, do. Ay, ay, _'tis_ hard to be forced
+to leave our nest. But all places are bright where love abides; and
+there's honest hearts both here and there, and the same sky above us
+wherever we wander, and the God of the fatherless above that; and
+better a peaceful cottage than a palace full of strife." And with many
+such homely sayings the rustic consoled her nursling on their little
+journey, not quite in vain.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+NEXT morning the house was in an uproar. Servants ran to and fro, and
+the fish-pond was dragged at Mr. Fountain's request. But on these
+occasions everybody claims a right to speak, and Jane came into the
+breakfast-room and said: "If you please, mum, Miss Lucy isn't in the
+pond, for she have taken a good part of her clothes, and all her
+jewels."
+
+This piece of common sense convinced everybody on the spot except Mrs.
+Bazalgette. That lady, if she had decided on "making a hole in the
+water," would have sat on the bank first, and clapped on all her
+jewels, and all her richest dresses, one on the top of another.
+Finally, Mr. Bazalgette, who wore a somber air, and had not said a
+word, requested everybody to mind their own business. "I have a
+communication from Lucy," said he, "and I do not at present disapprove
+the step she has taken."
+
+All eyes turned with astonishment toward him, and the next moment all
+voices opened on him like a pack of hounds. But he declined to give
+them any further information. Between ourselves he had none to give.
+The little note Lucy left on his table merely begged him to be under
+no anxiety, and prayed him to suspend his judgment of her conduct till
+he should know the whole case. It was his strong good sense which led
+him to pretend he was in the whole secret. By this means he
+substituted mystery for scandal, and contrived that the girl's folly
+might not be irreparable.
+
+At the same time he was deeply indignant with her, and, above all,
+with her hypocrisy in clinging round him and kissing him the very
+night she meditated flight from his house.
+
+"I must find the girl out and get her back;" said he, and directly
+after breakfast he collected his myrmidons and set them to discover
+her retreat.
+
+The outward frame-work of the holy alliance remained standing, but
+within it was dissolving fast. Each of the allies was even now
+thinking how to find Lucy and make a separate peace. During the
+flutter which now subsided, one person had done nothing but eat
+pigeon-pie. It was Kenealy, captain of horse.
+
+Now eating pigeon-pie is not in itself a suspicious act, but ladies
+are so sharp. Mrs. Bazalgette said to herself, "This creature alone is
+not a bit surprised (for Bazalgette is fibbing); why is this creature
+not surprised? humph! Captain Kenealy," said she, in honeyed tones,
+"what would you advise us to do?"
+
+"Advertaize," drawled the captain, as cool as a cucumber.
+
+"Advertise? What! publish her name?"
+
+"No, no names. I'll tell you;" and he proceeded to drawl out very
+slowly, from memory, the following advertisement. N. B.--The captain
+was a great reader of advertisements, and of little else.
+
+
+           "WANDERAA, RETARN.
+
+"If L. F. will retarn--to her afflicted--relatives--she shall be
+received with open aams. And shall be forgotten and forgiven--and
+reunaited affection shall solace every wound."
+
+
+"That is the style. It always brings 'em back--dayvilish good
+paie--have some moa."
+
+Mr. Fountain and Mrs. Bazalgette raised an outcry against the
+captain's advice, and, when the table was calm again, Mrs. Bazalgette
+surprised them all by fixing her eyes on Kenealy, and saying quietly,
+"You know where she is." She added more excitedly: "Now don't deny it.
+On your honor, sir, have you no idea where my niece is?"
+
+"Upon my honah, I have an idea."
+
+"Then tell me."
+
+"I'd rayther not."
+
+"Perhaps you would prefer to tell me in private?"
+
+"No; prefer not to tell at all."
+
+Then the whole table opened on him, and appealed to his manly feeling,
+his sense of hospitality, his humanity--to gratify their curiosity.
+
+Kenealy stretched himself out from the waist downward, and delivered
+himself thus, with a double infusion of his drawl:--
+
+"See yah all dem--d first."
+
+
+At noon on the same day, by the interference of Mrs. Bazalgette, the
+British army was swelled with Kenealy, captain of horse.
+
+The whole day passed, and Lucy's retreat was not yet discovered. But
+more than one hunter was hemming her in.
+
+
+The next day, being the second after her elopement with her nurse, at
+eleven in the forenoon, Lucy and Mrs. Wilson sat in the little parlor
+working. Mrs. Wilson had seen the poultry fed, the butter churned, and
+the pudding safe in the pot, and her mind was at ease for a good hour
+to come, so she sat quiet and peaceful. Lucy, too, was at peace. Her
+eye was clear; and her color coming back; she was not bursting with
+happiness, for there was a sweet pensiveness mixed with her sweet
+tranquillity; but she looked every now and then smiling from her work
+up at Mrs. Wilson, and the dame kept looking at her with a motherly
+joy caused by her bare presence on that hearth. Lucy basked in these
+maternal glances. At last she said: "Nurse."
+
+"My dear?"
+
+"If you had never done anything for me, still I should know you loved
+me."
+
+"Should ye, now?"
+
+"Oh yes; there is the look in your eye that I used to long to see in
+my poor aunt's, but it never came."
+
+"Well, Miss Lucy, I can't help it. To think it is really you setting
+there by my fire! I do feel like a cat with one kitten. You should
+check me glaring you out o' countenance like that."
+
+"Check you? I could not bear to lose one glance of that honest tender
+eye. I would not exchange one for all the flatteries of the world. I
+am so happy here, so tranquil, under my nurse's wing."
+
+With this declaration came a little sigh.
+
+Mrs. Wilson caught it. "Is there nothing wanting, dear?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, I do keep wishing for one thing."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"Oh, I can't help my thoughts."
+
+"But you can help keeping them from me, nurse."
+
+"Well, my dear, I am like a mother; I watch every word of yours and
+every look; and it is my belief you deceive yourself a bit: many a
+young maid has done that. I do judge there is a young man that is more
+to you than you think for."
+
+"Who on earth is that, nurse?" asked Lucy, coloring.
+
+"The handsome young gentleman."
+
+"Oh, they are all handsome--all my pests."
+
+"The one I found under your window, Miss Lucy; he wasn't in liquor; so
+what was he there for? and you know you were not at your ease till you
+had made me go and wake him, and send him home; and you were all of a
+tremble. I'm a widdy now, and can speak my mind to men-folk all one as
+women-folk; but I've been a maid, and I can mind how I was in those
+days. Liking did use to whisper me to do so and so; Shyness up and
+said, 'La! not for all the world; what'll he think?'"
+
+"Oh, nurse, do you believe me capable of loving one who does not love
+me?"
+
+"No. Who said he doesn't love you? What was he there for? I stick to
+that."
+
+"Now, nurse, dear, be reasonable; if Mr. Dodd loved me, would he go to
+sleep in my presence?"
+
+"Eh! Miss Lucy, the poor soul was maybe asleep before you left your
+room."
+
+"It is all the same. He slept while I stood close to him ever so long.
+Slept while I--If I loved anybody as these gentlemen pretend they
+love us, should I sleep while the being I adored was close to me?"
+
+"You are too hard upon him. 'The spirit is willing but the flesh is
+weak.' Why, miss, we do read of Eutychus, how he snoozed off setting
+under Paul himself--up in a windy--and down a-tumbled. But parson says
+it wasn't that he didn't love religion, or why should Paul make it his
+business to bring him to life again, 'stead of letting un lie for a
+warning to the sleepy-headed ones. ''Twas a wearied body, not a heart
+cold to God,' says our parson."
+
+"Now, nurse, I take you at your word. If Eutychus had been Eutycha,
+and in love with St. Paul, Eutycha would never have gone to sleep,
+though St. Paul preached all day and all night; and if Dorcas had
+preached instead of St. Paul, and Eutychus been in love with her, he
+would never have gone to sleep, and you know it."
+
+At this home-thrust Mrs. Wilson was staggered, but the next moment her
+sense of discomfiture gave way to a broad expression of triumph at her
+nursling's wit.
+
+"Eh! Miss Lucy," cried she, showing a broadside of great white teeth
+in a rustic chuckle, "but ye've got a tongue in your head. Ye've sewed
+up my stocking, and 'tisn't many of them can do that." Lucy followed
+up her advantage.
+
+"And, nurse, even when he was wide awake and stood by the cart, no
+inward sentiment warned him of my presence; a sure sign he did not
+love me. Though I have never experienced love, I have read of it, and
+know all about it." [_Jus-tice des Femmes!_]
+
+"Well, Miss Lucy, have it your own way; after all, if he loves you he
+will find you out."
+
+"Of course he would, and you will see he will do nothing of the kind."
+
+"Then I wish I knew where he was; I would pull him in at my door by
+the scruf of the neck."
+
+"And then I should jump out at the window. Come, try on your new cap,
+nurse, that I have made for you, and let us talk about anything you
+like except gentlemen. Gentlemen are a sore subject with me. Gentlemen
+have been my ruin."
+
+"La, Miss Lucy!"
+
+"I assure you they have; why, have they not set my uncle's heart
+against me, and my aunt's, and robbed me of the affection I once had
+for both? I believe gentlemen to be the pests of society; and oh! the
+delight of being here in this calm retreat, where love dwells, and no
+gentleman can find me. Ah! ah! Oh! What is that?"
+
+For a heavy blow descended on the door. "That is Jenny's
+_knock,"_ said Mrs. Wilson; dryly. "Come in, Jenny." The servant,
+thus invited, burst the door open as savagely as she had struck it,
+and announced with a knowing grin, "A GENTLEMAN--_for Miss
+Fountain!!"_
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+DAVID and Eve sat together at their little breakfast, and pressed each
+other to eat; but neither could eat. David's night excursion had
+filled Eve with new misgivings. It was the act of a madman; and we
+know the fears that beset her on that head, and their ground. He had
+come home shivering, and she had forced him to keep his bed all that
+day. He was not well now, and bodily weakness, added to his other
+afflictions, bore his spirit down, though nothing could cow it.
+
+"When are you to sail?" inquired Eve, sick-like.
+
+"In three days. Cargo won't be on board before."
+
+"A coasting vessel?"
+
+"A man can do his duty in a coaster as well as a merchantman or a
+frigate." But he sighed.
+
+"Would to God you had never seen her!"
+
+"Don't blame her--blame me. I had good advice from my little sister,
+but I was willful. Never mind, Eve, I needn't to blush for loving her;
+she is worthy of it all."
+
+"Well, think so, David, if you can." And Eve, thoroughly depressed,
+relapsed into silence. The postman's rap was heard, and soon after a
+long inclosure was placed in Eve's hand.
+
+Poor little Eve did not receive many letters; and, sad as she was, she
+opened this with some interest; but how shall I paint its effect? She
+kept uttering shrieks of joy, one after another, at each sentence. And
+when she had shrieked with joy many times, she ran with the large
+paper round to David. "You are captain of the _Rajah!_ ah! the
+new ship! ah! eleven hundred tons! Oh, David! Oh, my heart! Oh! oh!
+oh!" and the poor little thing clasped her arms round her brother's
+neck, and kissed him again and again, and cried and sobbed for joy.
+
+All men, and most women, go through life without once knowing what it
+is to cry for joy, and it is a comfort to think that Eve's pure and
+deep affection brought her such a moment as this in return for much
+trouble and sorrow. David, stout-hearted as he was, was shaken as the
+sea and the wind had never yet shaken him. He turned red and white
+alternately, and trembled. "Captain of the _Rajah!_ It is too
+good--it is too good! I have done nothing _for it";_ and he was
+incredulous.
+
+Eve was devouring the inclosure. "It is her doing," she cried; "it is
+all her doing."
+
+"Whose?"
+
+"Who do you think? I am in the air! I am in heaven! Bless her--oh,
+God, bless her for this. Never speak against cold-blooded folk before
+me; they have twice the principle of us hot ones: I always said so.
+She is a good creature; she is a true friend; and you accused her of
+ingratitude!"
+
+"That I never did."
+
+"You did--_Rajah_--he! he! oh!--and I defended her. Here, take
+and read that: is that a commission or not? Now you be quiet, and let
+us see what she says. No, I can't; I cannot keep the tears out of my
+eyes. Do take and read it, David; I'm blind."
+
+David took the letter, kissed it, and read it out to Eve, and she kept
+crowing and shedding tears all the time.
+
+
+"DEAR MISS DODD--I admire too much your true affection for your
+brother to be indifferent to your good opinion. Think of me as
+leniently as you can. Perhaps it gives me as much pleasure to be able
+to forward you the inclosed as the receipt of it, I hope, may give
+you.
+
+"It would, I think, be more wise, and certainly more generous, not to
+let Mr. Dodd think he owes in any degree to me that which, if the
+world were just, would surely have been his long ago. Only, some few
+months hence, when it can do him no harm, I could wish him not to
+think his friend Lucy was ungrateful, or even cold in his service, who
+saved her life, and once honored her with so warm an esteem. But all
+this I confide to your discretion and your justice. Dear Miss Dodd,
+those who give pain to others do not escape it themselves, nor is it
+just they should. My insensibility to the merit of persons of the
+other sex has provoked my relatives; they have punished me for
+declining Mr. Dodd's inferiors with a bitterness Mr. Dodd, with far
+more cause, never showed me; so you see at each turn I am reminded of
+his superiority.
+
+"The result is, I am separated from my friends, and am living all
+alone with my dear old nurse, at her farmhouse.
+
+"Since, then, I am unhappy, and you are generous, you will, I think,
+forgive me all the pain I have caused you, and will let me, in bidding
+you adieu, subscribe myself,
+
+                                 "Yours affectionately,
+
+                                 "LUCY FOUNTAIN"
+
+
+"It is the letter of a sweet girl, David, with a noble heart; and she
+has taken a noble revenge of me for what I said to her the other day,
+and made her cry, like a little brute as I am. Why, how glum you
+look!"
+
+"Eve," said David, "do you think I will accept this from her without
+herself?"
+
+"Of course you will. Don't be too greedy, David. Leave the girl in
+peace; she has shown you what she will do and what she won't. One such
+friend as this is worth a hundred lovers. Give me her dear little
+note."
+
+While Eve was persuing it, David went out, but soon returned, with his
+best coat on, and his hat in his hand. Eve asked in some surprise
+where he was going in such a hurry.
+
+"To her."
+
+"Well, David, now I come to read her letter quietly, it is a woman's
+letter all over; you may read it which way you like. What need had she
+to tell me she has just refused offers? And then she tells me she is
+all alone. That sounds like a hint. The company of a friend might he
+agreeable. Brush your coat first, at any rate; there's something white
+on it; it is a paper; it is pinned on. Come here. Why, what is this?
+It is written on. 'Adieu.'" And Eve opened her eyes and mouth as well.
+
+She asked him when he wore the coat last.
+
+"The day before yesterday."
+
+"Were you in company of any girls?"
+
+"Not I."
+
+"But this is written by a girl, and it is pinned on by a girl; see how
+it is quilted in!! that's proof positive. Oh! oh! oh! look here. Look
+at these two 'Adieus'--the one in the letter and this; they are the
+same--precisely the same. What, in Heaven's name, is the meaning of
+this? Were you in her company that night?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Will you swear that?"
+
+"No, I can't swear it, because I was asleep a part of the time; but
+waking in her company I was not."
+
+"It is her writing, and she pinned it on you."
+
+"How can that be, Eve?"
+
+"I don't know; I am sure she did, though. Look at this 'Adieu' and
+that; you'll never get it out of my head but what one hand wrote them
+both. You are so green, a girl would come behind you and pin it on
+you, and you never feel her."
+
+While saying these words, Eve slyly repinned it on him without his
+feeling or knowing anything about it.
+
+David was impatient to be gone, but she held him a minute to advise
+him.
+
+"Tell her she must and shall. Don't take a denial. If you are
+cowardly, she will be bold; but if you are bold and resolute, she will
+knuckle down. Mind that; and don't go about it with such a face as
+that, as long as my arm. If she says 'No,' you have got the ship to
+comfort you. Oh! I am so happy!"
+
+"No, Eve," said David, "if she won't give me herself, I'll never take
+her ship. I'd die a foretopman sooner;" and, with these parting words,
+he renewed all his sister's anxiety. She sat down sorrowfully, and the
+horrible idea gained on her that there was mania in David's love for
+Lucy.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+DAVID had one advantage over others that were now hunting Lucy. Mrs.
+Wilson had unwittingly given him pretty plain directions how to find
+her farmhouse; and as Eve, in the exercise of her discretion, or
+indiscretion, had shown David Lucy's letter, he had only to ride to
+Harrowden and inquire. But, on the other hand, his competitors were a
+few miles nearer the game, and had a day's start.
+
+David got a horse and galloped to Harrowden, fed him at the inn, and
+asked where Mrs. Wilson's farm was. The waiter, a female, did not
+know, but would inquire. Meantime David asked for two sheets of paper,
+and wrote a few lines on each; then folded them both (in those days
+envelopes were not), but did not seal them. Mrs. Wilson's farm turned
+out to be only two miles from Harrowden, and the road easy to find. He
+was soon there; gave his horse to one of the farm-boys, and went into
+the kitchen and asked if Miss Fountain lived there. This question
+threw him into the hands of Jenny, who invited him to follow her, and,
+unlike your powdered and noiseless lackey, pounded the door with her
+fist, kicked it open with her foot, and announced him with that
+thunderbolt of language which fell so inopportunely on Lucy's
+self-congratulations.
+
+The look Mrs. Wilson cast on Lucy was droll enough; but when David's
+square shoulders and handsome face filled up the doorway, a second
+look followed that spoke folios.
+
+Lucy rose, and with heightened color, but admirable self-possession,
+welcomed David like a valued friend.
+
+Mrs. Wilson's greeting was broad and hearty; and, very soon after she
+had made him sit down, she bounced up, crying: "You will stay dinner
+now you be come, and I must see as they don't starve you." So saying,
+out she went; but, looking back at the door, was transfixed by an
+arrow of reproach from her nursling's eye.
+
+Lucy's reception of David, kind as it was, was not encouraging to one
+coming on David's errand, for there was the wrong shade of amity in
+it.
+
+In times past it would have cooled David with misgivings, but now he
+did not give himself time to be discouraged; he came to make a last
+desperate effort, and he made it at once.
+
+"Miss Lucy, I have got the _Rajah,_ thanks to you."
+
+"Thanks to me, Mr. Dodd? Thanks to your own high character and merit."
+
+"No, Miss Lucy, you know better, and I know better, and there is your
+own sweet handwriting to prove it."
+
+"Miss Dodd has showed you my letter?"
+
+"How could she help it?"
+
+"What a pity! how injudicious!"
+
+"The truth is like the light; why keep it out? Yes; what I have worked
+for, and battled the weather so many years, and been sober and
+prudent, and a hard student at every idle hour--that has come to me in
+one moment from your dear hand."
+
+"It is a shame."
+
+"Bless you, Miss Lucy," cried David, not noting the remark.
+
+Lucy blushed, and the water stood in her eyes. She murmured softly:
+"You should not say Miss Lucy; it is not customary. You should say
+Lucy, or Miss Fountain."
+
+This _apropos_ remark by way of a female diversion.
+
+"Then let me say Lucy to-day, for perhaps I shall never say that, or
+anything that is sweet to say again. Lucy, you know what I came for?"
+
+"Oh, yes, to receive my congratulations."
+
+"More than that, a great deal--to ask you to go halves in the
+_Rajah."_
+
+Lucy's eyebrows demanded an explanation.
+
+"She is worth two thousand a year to her commander; and that is too
+much for a bachelor."
+
+Lucy colored and smiled. "Why, it is only just enough for bachelors to
+live upon."
+
+"It is too much for me alone under the circumstances," said David,
+gravely; and there was a little silence.
+
+"Lucy, I love you. With you the _Rajah_ would be a godsend. She
+will help me keep you in the company you have been used to, and were
+made to brighten and adorn; but without you I cannot take her from
+your hand, and, to speak plain, I won't."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Dodd!"
+
+"No, Lucy; before I knew you, to command a ship was the height of my
+ambition--her quarter-deck my Heaven on earth; and this is a clipper,
+I own it; I saw her in the docks. But you have taught me to look
+higher. Share my ship and my heart with me, and certainly the ship
+will be my child, and all the dearer to me that she came to us from
+her I love. But don't say to me, 'Me you shan't have; you are not good
+enough for that; but there is a ship for you in my place.' I wouldn't
+accept a star out of the firmament on those terms."
+
+"How unreasonable! On the contrary you should say, 'I am doubly
+fortunate: I escape a foolish, weak companion for life, and I have a
+beautiful ship.' But friendship such as mine for you was never
+appreciated; I do you injustice; you only talk like that to tease me
+and make me unhappy."
+
+"Oh, Lucy, Lucy, did you ever know me--"
+
+"There, now, forgive me; and own you are not in earnest."
+
+"This will show you," said David, sadly; and he took out two letters
+from his bosom. "Here are two letters to the secretary. In one I
+accept the ship with thanks, and offer to superintend her when her
+rigging is being set up; and in this one I decline her altogether,
+with my humble and sincere thanks."
+
+"Oh yes, you are very humble, sir," said Lucy. "Now--dear
+friend--listen to reason. You have others--"
+
+"Excuse my interrupting you, but it is a rule with me never to reason
+about right and wrong; I notice that whoever does that ends by
+choosing wrong. I don't go to my head to find out my duty, I go to my
+heart; and what little manhood there is in me all cries out against me
+compounding with the woman I love, and taking a ship instead of her."
+
+"How unkind you are! It is not as if I was under no obligations to
+you. Is not my life worth a ship? an angel like me?"
+
+"I can't see it so. It was a greater pleasure to me to save your life,
+as you call it, than it could be to you. I can't let that into the
+account. A woman is a woman, but a man is a man; and I will be under
+no obligation to you but one."
+
+"What arrogance!"
+
+"Don't you be angry; I'll love you and bless you all the same. But I
+am a man, and a man I'll die, whether I die captain of a ship or of a
+foretop. Poor Eve!"
+
+"See how power tries people, and brings out their true character.
+Since you commanded the _Rajah_ you are all changed. You used to
+be submissive; now you must have your own way entirely. You will fling
+my poor ship in my face unless I give you--but this is really using
+force--yes, Mr. Dodd, this is using force. Somebody has told you that
+my sex yield when downright compulsion is used. It is true; and the
+more ungenerous to apply it;" and she melted into a few placid tears.
+
+David did not know this sign of yielding in a woman, and he groaned at
+the sight and hung his head.
+
+"Advise me what I had better do."
+
+To this singular proposal, David, listening to the ill advice of the
+fiend Generosity, groaned out, "Why should you be tormented and made
+cry?"
+
+"Why indeed?"
+
+"Nothing can change me; I advise you to cut it short."
+
+"Oh, do you? very well. Why did you say 'poor Eve'?"
+
+"Ah, poor thing! she cried for joy when she read your letter, but when
+I go back she will cry for grief;" and his voice faltered.
+
+"I will cut this short, Mr. Dodd; give me that paper."
+
+"Which?"
+
+"The wicked one, where you refuse my _Rajah_."
+
+David hesitated.
+
+"You are no gentleman, sir, if you refuse a lady. Give it me this
+instant," cried Lucy, so haughtily and imperiously that David did not
+know her, and gave her the letter with a half-cowed air.
+
+She took it, and with both her supple white hands tore it with
+insulting precision exactly in half. "There, sir and there, sir"
+(exactly in four); "and there" (in eight, with malicious exactness);
+"and there"; and, though it seemed impossible to effect another
+separation, yet the taper fingers and a resolute will reduced it to
+tiny bits. She then made a gesture to throw them in the fire, but
+thought better of it and held them.
+
+David looked on, almost amused at this zealous demolition of a thing
+he could so easily replace. He said, part sadly, part doggedly, part
+apologetically, "I can write another."
+
+"But you will not. Oh, Mr. Dodd, don't you see?!"
+
+He looked up at her eagerly. To his surprise, her haughty eagle look
+had gone, and she seemed a pitying goddess, all tenderness and
+benignity; only her mantling, burning cheek showed her to be woman.
+
+She faltered, in answer to his wild, eager look. "Was I ever so rude
+before? What right have I to tear your letter unless I--"
+
+The characteristic full stop, and, above all, the heaving bosom, the
+melting eye, and the red cheek, were enough even for poor simple
+David. Heaven seemed to open on him. His burning kisses fell on the
+sweet hands that had torn his death-warrant. No resistance. She
+blushed higher, but smiled. His powerful arm curled round her. She
+looked a little scared, but not much. He kissed her sweet cheek: the
+blush spread to her very forehead at that, but no resistance. As the
+winged and rapid bird, if her feathers be but touched with a speck of
+bird-lime, loses all power of flight, so it seemed as if that one
+kiss, the first a stranger had ever pressed on Lucy's virgin cheek,
+paralyzed her eel-like and evasive powers; under it her whole supple
+frame seemed to yield as David drew her closer and closer to him, till
+she hid her forehead and wet eyelashes on his shoulder, and murmured:
+
+"How could I let _you_ be unhappy?!"
+
+Neither spoke for a while. Each felt the other's heart beat; and David
+drank that ecstasy of silent, delirious bliss which comes to great
+hearts once in a life.
+
+Had he not earned it?
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+By some mighty instinct Mrs. Wilson knew when to come in. She came to
+the door just one minute after Lucy had capitulated, and, turning the
+handle, but without opening the door, bawled some fresh directions to
+Jenny: this was to enable Lucy to smooth her ruffled feathers, if
+necessary, and look Agnes. But Lucy's actual contact with that honest
+heart seemed to have made a change in her; instead of doing Agnes, she
+confronted (after a fashion of her own) the situation she had so long
+evaded.
+
+"Oh, nurse!" she cried, and wreathed her arms round her.
+
+"Don't cry, my lamb! I can guess."
+
+"Cry? Oh no; I would not pay him so poor a compliment. It was to say,
+'Dear nurse, you must love Mr. Dodd as well as me now.'"
+
+The dame received this indirect intelligence with hearty delight.
+
+"That won't cost me much trouble," said she. "He is the one I'd have
+picked out of all England for my nursling. When a young man is kind to
+an old woman, it is a good sign; but la! his face is enough for me:
+who ever saw guile in such a face as that. Aren't ye hungry by this
+time? Dinner will be ready in about a minute."
+
+"Nurse, can I speak to you a word?"
+
+"Yes, sure."
+
+It was to inquire whether she would invite Miss Dodd.
+
+"She loves her brother very dearly, and it is cruel to separate them.
+Mr. Dodd will be nearly always here now, will he not?"
+
+"You may take your davy of that."
+
+In a very few minutes a note was written, and Mrs. Wilson's eldest
+son, a handsome young farmer, started in the covered cart with his
+mother's orders "to bring the young lady willy-nilly."
+
+
+The holy allies both openly scouted Kenealy's advice, and both slyly
+stepped down into the town and acted on it. Mr. Fountain then returned
+to Font Abbey. Their two advertisements appeared side by side, and
+exasperated them.
+
+After dinner Mrs. Wilson sent Lucy and David out to take a walk. At
+the gate they met with a little interruption; a carriage drove up; the
+coachman touched his hat, and Mrs. Bazalgette put her head out of the
+window.
+
+"I came to take you back, love."
+
+David quaked.
+
+"Thank you, aunt; but it is not worth while now."
+
+"Ah!" said Mrs. Bazalgette, casting a venomous look on David; "I am
+too late, am I? Poor girl!"
+
+Lucy soothed her aunt with the information that she was much happier
+now than she had been for a long time past. For this was a
+fencing-match.
+
+"May I have a word in private with my niece?" inquired Mrs.
+Bazalgette, bitterly, of David.
+
+"Why not?" said David stoutly; but his heart turned sick as he
+retired. Lucy saw the look of anxiety.
+
+"Lucy," said Mrs. Bazalgette, "you left me because you are averse to
+matrimony, and I urged you to it; of course, with those sentiments,
+you have no idea of marrying that man there. I don't suspect you of
+such hypocrisy, and therefore I say come home with me, and you shall
+marry nobody; your inclination shall be free as air."
+
+"Aunt," said Lucy, demurely, "why didn't you come yesterday? I always
+said those who love me best would find me first, and you let Mr. Dodd
+come first. I am so sorry!"
+
+"Then your pretended aversion to marriage was all hypocrisy, was it?"
+
+Lucy informed her that marriage was a contract, and the contracting
+parties two, and no more--the bride and bridegroom; and that to sign a
+contract without reading it is silly, and meaning not to keep it is
+wicked. "So," said she, "I read the contract over in the prayer-book
+this morning, for fear of accidents."
+
+My reader may, perhaps, be amused at this admission; but Mrs.
+Bazalgette was disgusted, and inquired, "What stuff is the girl
+talking now?"
+
+"It is called common sense. Well, I find the contract is one I can
+carry out with Mr. Dodd, and with nobody else. I can love him a
+little, can honor him a great deal, and obey him entirely. I begin
+now. There he is; and if you feel you cannot show him the courtesy of
+making him one in our conversation, permit me to retire and relieve
+his solitude."
+
+"Mighty fine; and if you don't instantly leave him and come home, you
+shall never enter my house again."
+
+"Unless sickness or trouble should visit your house, and then you will
+send for me, and I shall come."
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette (to the coachman).--"Home!"
+
+Lucy made her a polite obeisance, to keep up appearances before the
+servants and the farm-people, who were gaping. She, whose breeding was
+inferior, flounced into a corner without returning it. The carriage
+drove off.
+
+David inquired with great anxiety whether something had not been said
+to vex her.
+
+"Not in the least," replied Lucy, calmly. "Little things and little
+people can no longer vex me. I have great duties to think of and a
+great heart to share them with me. Let us walk toward Harrowden; we
+may perhaps meet a friend."
+
+Sure enough, just on this side Harrowden they met the covered cart,
+and Eve in it, radiant with unexpected delight. The engaged ones--for
+such they had become in those two miles--mounted the cart, and the two
+men sat in front, and Eve and Lucy intertwined at the back, and opened
+their hearts to each other.
+
+Eve. And you have taken the paper off again?
+
+Lucy. What paper? It was no longer applicable.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+I HAVE already noticed that Lucy, after capitulation, laid down her
+arms gracefully and sensibly. When she was asked to name a very early
+day for the wedding, she opposed no childish delay to David's
+happiness, for the _Rajah_ was to sail in six weeks and separate
+them. So the license was got, and the wedding-day came; and all Lucy's
+previous study of the contract did not prevent her from being deeply
+affected by the solemn words that joined her to David in holy
+matrimony.
+
+She bore up, though, stoutly; for her sense of propriety and courtesy
+forbade her to cloud a festivity. But, when the post-chaise came to
+convey bride and bridegroom on their little tour, and she had to leave
+Mrs. Wilson and Eve for a whole week, the tears would not be denied;
+and, to show how perilous a road matrimony is, these two risked a
+misunderstanding on their wedding-day, thus: Lucy, all alone in the
+post-chaise with David, dissolved--a perfect Niobe--gushing at short
+intervals. Sometimes a faint explanation gurgled out with the tears:
+"Poor Eve! her dear little face was working so not to cry. Oh! oh! I
+should not have minded so much if she had cried right out." Then,
+again, it was "Poor Mrs. Wilson! I was only a week with her, for all
+her love. I have made a c--at's p--paw of her--oh!"
+
+Then, again, "Uncle Bazalgette has never noticed us; he thinks me a
+h--h--ypocrite." But quite as often they flowed without any
+accompanying reason.
+
+Now if David had been a poetaster, he would have said: "Why these
+tears? she has got me. Am I not more than an equivalent to these puny
+considerations?" and all this salt water would have burned into his
+vanity like liquid caustic. If he had been a poet, he would have said:
+"Alas! I make her unhappy whom I hoped to make happy"; and with this
+he would have been sad, and so prolonged her sadness, and perhaps
+ended by sulking. But David had two good things--a kind heart and a
+skin not too thin: and such are the men that make women happy, in
+spite of their weak nerves and craven spirits.
+
+He gave her time; soothed her kindly; but did not check her weakness
+dead short.
+
+At last my Lady Chesterfield said to him, penitently, "This is a poor
+compliment to you, Mr. Dodd"; and then Niobized again, partly, I
+believe, with regret that she was behaving so discourteously.
+
+"It is very natural," said David, kindly, "but we shall soon see them
+all again, you know."
+
+Presently she looked in his radiant face, with wet eyes, but a
+half-smile. "You amaze me; you don't seem the least terrified at what
+we have done."
+
+"Not a bit," cried David, like a cheerful horn: "I have been in worse
+peril than this, and so have you. Our troubles are all over; I see
+nothing but happiness ahead." He then drew a sunny picture of their
+future life, to all which she listened demurely; and, in short, he
+treated her little feminine distress as the summer sun treats a mist
+that tries to vie with it. He soon dried her up, and when they reached
+their journey's end she was as bright as himself.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+THEY had been married a week. A slight change, but quite distinct to
+an observer of her sex, bloomed in Lucy's face and manner. A new
+beauty was in her face--the blossom of wifehood. Her eyes, though not
+less modest, were less timid than before; and now they often met
+David's full, and seemed to sip affection at them. When he came near
+her, her lovely frame showed itself conscious of his approach. His
+queen, though he did not know it, was his vassal. They sat at table at
+a little inn, twenty miles from Harrowden, for they were on their
+return to Mrs. Wilson. Lucy went to the window while David settled the
+bill. At the window it is probable she had her own thoughts, for she
+glided up behind David, and, fanning his hair with her cool, honeyed
+breath, she said, in the tone of a humble inquirer seeking historical
+or antiquarian information, "I want to ask you a question, David: are
+you happy _too?"_
+
+David answered promptly, but inarticulately; so his reply is lost to
+posterity. Conjecture alone survives.
+
+
+One disappointment awaited Lucy at Mrs. Wilson's. There were several
+letters for both David and her, but none from Mr. Bazalgette. She knew
+by that she had lost his respect. She could not blame him, for she saw
+how like disingenuousness and hypocrisy her conduct must look to him.
+"I must trust to time and opportunity," she said, with a sigh. She
+proposed to David to read all her letters, and she would read all his.
+He thought this a droll idea; but nothing that identified him with his
+royal vassal came amiss. The first letter of Lucy's that David opened
+was from Mr. Talboys.
+
+
+"DEAR MADAM--I have heard of your marriage with Mr. Dodd, and desire
+to offer both you and him my cordial congratulations.
+
+"I feel under considerable obligation to Mr. Dodd; and, should my
+house ever have a mistress, I hope she will be able to tempt you both
+to renew our acquaintance under my roof, and so give me once more that
+opportunity I have too little improved of showing you both the sincere
+respect and gratitude with which I am,
+
+"Your very faithful servant,
+
+"REGINALD TALBOYS."
+
+
+Lucy was delighted with this note. "Who says it was nothing to have
+been born a gentleman?"
+
+The second letter was from Reginald No. 2; and, if I only give the
+reader a fragment of it, I still expect his gratitude, all one as if I
+had disinterred a fragment of Orpheus or Tiresias.
+
+     Dear lucy.
+     It is very ungust of you to go and
+     Mary other peeple wen you
+     Promised me. but it is mr. dod.
+     So i dont so much mind i like
+     Mr. dod. he is a duc. and they all
+     Say i am too litle and jane says
+     Sailors always end by been
+     Drouned so it is only put off.
+     But you reely must keep your
+     Promise to me. wen i am biger
+     And mr. Dod is drouned. my
+     Ginny pigs--
+
+
+Here a white hand drew the pleasing composition out of David's hand,
+and dropped it on the floor; two piteous, tearful eyes were bent on
+him, and a white arm went tenderly round his neck to save him from the
+threatened fate.
+
+At this sight Eve pounced on the horrid scroll, and hurled it, with
+general acclamation, into the flames.
+
+Thus that sweet infant revenged himself, and, like Sampson, hit
+hardest of all at parting--in tears and flame vanished from written
+fiction, and, I conclude, went back to Gavarni.
+
+There was a letter from Mr. Fountain--all fire and fury. She was never
+to write or speak to him any more. He was now looking out for a youth
+of good family to adopt and to make a Fontaine of by act of
+Parliament, etc., etc. A fusillade of written thunderbolts.
+
+There was another from Mrs. Bazalgette, written with cream--of tartar
+and oil--of vitriol. She forgave her niece and wished her every
+happiness it was possible for a young person to enjoy who had deceived
+her relations and married beneath her. She felt pity rather than
+anger; and there was no reason why Mr. and Mrs. Dodd should not visit
+her house, as far as she was concerned; but Mr. Bazalgette was a man
+of very stern rectitude, and, as she could not make sure that he would
+treat them with common courtesy after what had passed, she thought a
+temporary separation might be the better course for all parties.
+
+I may as well take this opportunity of saying that these two egotists
+carried out the promise of their respective letters. Mr. Fountain
+blustered for a year or two, and then showed manifest signs of
+relenting.
+
+Mrs. Bazalgette kept cool, and wrote, in oils, twice a year to Mrs.
+Dodd:
+
+"ET GARDAIT TOUT DOUCEMENT UNE HAINE IRRECONCILIABLE."
+
+
+Lucy had to answer these letters. In signing one of them, she took a
+look at her new signature and smiled. "What a dear, quaint little name
+mine is!" said she. "Lucy Dodd;" and she kissed the signature.
+
+           A Month after Marriage.
+
+The Dodds took a house in London and Eve came up to them. David was
+nearly all day superintending the ship, but spent the whole evening
+with his wife at home. Zeal always produces irritation. The servant
+that is anxious for his employer's interest is sure to get into a
+passion or two with the deadness, indifference and heartless injustice
+of the genuine hireling. So David was often irritated and worried, and
+in hot water, while superintending the _Rajah,_ but the moment he
+saw his own door, away he threw it all, and came into the house like a
+jocund sunbeam. Nothing wins a woman more than this, provided she is
+already inclined in the man's favor. As the hour that brought David
+approached, Lucy's spirits and Eve's used both to rise by
+anticipation, and that anticipation his hearty, genial temper never
+disappointed.
+
+
+One day Lucy came to David for information. "David, there is a
+singular change in me. It is since we came to London. I used to be a
+placid girl; now I am a fidget."
+
+"I don't see it, love."
+
+"No; how should you, dear? It always goes away when you come. Now
+listen. When five o'clock comes near, I turn hot and restless, and can
+hardly keep from the window; and if you are five minutes after your
+time, I really cannot keep from the window; and my nerves _se
+crispent,_ and I cannot sit still. It is very foolish. What does it
+mean? Can you tell me?"
+
+"Of course I can. I am just the same when people are unpunctual. It is
+inexcusable, and nothing is so vexing. I ought to be--"
+
+"Oh David, what nonsense! it is not that. Could I ever be vexed with
+my David?"
+
+"Well, then, there is Eve; we'll ask her."
+
+"If you dare, sir!" and Mrs. Dodd was carnation.
+
+           Four years after the above events
+
+Two ladies were gossiping.
+
+1st Lady. "What I like about Mrs. Dodd is that she is so truthful."
+
+2d Lady. "Oh, is she?"
+
+1st Lady. "Yes, she is indeed. Certainly she is not a woman that
+blurts out unpleasant things without any necessity; she is kind and
+considerate in word and deed, but she is always true. She has got an
+eye that meets you like a little lion's eye, and a tongue without
+guile. I do love Mrs. Dodd dearly."
+
+
+Two Qui his were talking in Leadenhall Street.
+
+1st Qui hi. "Well, so you are going out again."
+
+2d Qui hi. "Yes; they have offered me a commissionership. I must make
+another lac for the children."
+
+1st Qui hi. "When do you sail?"
+
+2d Qui hi. "By the first good ship. I should like a good ship."
+
+1st Qui hi. "Well, then, you had better go out with Gentleman Dodd."
+
+2d Qui hi. "Gentleman Dodd? I should prefer Sailor Dodd. I don't want
+to founder off the Cape."
+
+1st Qui hi. "Oh, but this is a first-rate sailor, and a first-rate
+fellow altogether."
+
+2d Qui hi. "Then why do you call him 'Gentleman Dodd'?"
+
+1st Qui hi. "Oh, because he is so polite. He won't stand an oath
+within hearing of his quarter-deck, and is particularly kind and
+courteous to the passengers, especially to the ladies. His ship is
+always full."
+
+2d Qui hi. "Is it? Then I'll go out with 'Gentleman Dodd.'"
+
+                          --------------
+
+
+TO MY MALE READERS.
+
+I SEE with some surprise that there still linger in the field of
+letters writers who think that, in fiction, when a personage speaks
+with an air of conviction, the sentiments must be the author's own.
+(When two of his personages give each other the lie, which represents
+the author? both?)
+
+I must ask you to shun this error; for instance, do not go and take
+Eve Dodd's opinion of my heroine, or Mrs. Bazalgette's, for mine.
+
+Miss Dodd, in particular, however epigrammatic she may appear, is
+shallow: her criticism _peche par la base._ She talks too much as
+if young girls were in the habit of looking into their own minds, like
+little metaphysicians, and knowing all that goes on there; but, on the
+contrary, this is just what women in general don't do, and young women
+can't do.
+
+No male will quite understand Lucy Fountain who does not take
+"instinct" and "self-deception" into the account. But with those two
+dews and your own intelligence, you cannot fail to unravel her, and
+will, I hope, thank me in your hearts for leaving you something to
+study, and not clogging my sluggish narrative with a mass of comment
+and explanation.
+
+
+The End.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Love Me Little, Love Me Long, by Charles Reade
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