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diff --git a/old/chhs10h.htm b/old/chhs10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..64dc143 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/chhs10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9758 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>Chantry House</title> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">Chantry House, by Charlotte M. Yonge</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Chantry House, by Charlotte M. Yonge + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Chantry House + +Author: Charlotte M. Yonge + +Release Date: January, 2005 [EBook #7378] +[This file was first posted on April 22, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Transcribed from the 1905 Macmillan and Co. edition by David Price, +email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h1>CHANTRY HOUSE</h1> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER I - A NURSERY PROSE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘And if it be the heart of man<br /> Which +our existence measures,<br />Far longer is our childhood’s span<br /> Than +that of manly pleasures.</p> +<p>‘For long each month and year is then,<br /> Their +thoughts and days extending,<br />But months and years pass swift with +men<br /> To time’s last goal descending.’</p> +<p>ISAAC WILLIAMS.</p> +<p>The united force of the younger generation has been brought upon +me to record, with the aid of diaries and letters, the circumstances +connected with Chantry House and my two dear elder brothers. Once +this could not have been done without more pain than I could brook, +but the lapse of time heals wounds, brings compensations, and, when +the heart has ceased from aching and yearning, makes the memory of what +once filled it a treasure to be brought forward with joy and thankfulness. +Nor would it be well that some of those mentioned in the coming narrative +should be wholly forgotten, and their place know them no more.</p> +<p>To explain all, I must go back to a time long before the morning +when my father astonished us all by exclaiming, ‘Poor old James +Winslow! So Chantry House is came to us after all!’ +Previous to that event I do not think we were aware of the existence +of that place, far less of its being a possible inheritance, for my +parents would never have permitted themselves or their family to be +unsettled by the notion of doubtful contingencies.</p> +<p>My father, John Edward Winslow, was a barrister, and held an appointment +in the Admiralty Office, which employed him for many hours of the day +at Somerset House. My mother, whose maiden name was Mary Griffith, +belonged to a naval family. Her father had been lost in a West +Indian hurricane at sea, and her uncle, Admiral Sir John Griffith, was +the hero of the family, having been at Trafalgar and distinguished himself +in cutting out expeditions. My eldest brother bore his name. +The second was named after the Duke of Clarence, with whom my mother +had once danced at a ball on board ship at Portsmouth, and who had been +rather fond of my uncle. Indeed, I believe my father’s appointment +had been obtained through his interest, just about the time of Clarence’s +birth.</p> +<p>We three boys had come so fast upon each other’s heels in the +Novembers of 1809, 10, and 11, that any two of us used to look like +twins. There is still extant a feeble water-coloured drawing of +the trio, in nankeen frocks, and long white trowsers, with bare necks +and arms, the latter twined together, and with the free hands, Griffith +holding a bat, Clarence a trap, and I a ball. I remember the emulation +we felt at Griffith’s privilege of eldest in holding the bat.</p> +<p>The sitting for that picture is the only thing I clearly remember +during those earlier days. I have no recollection of the disaster, +which, at four years old, altered my life. The catastrophe, as +others have described it, was that we three boys were riding cock-horse +on the balusters of the second floor of our house in Montagu Place, +Russell Square, when we indulged in a general <i>mêlée</i>, +which resulted in all tumbling over into the vestibule below. +The others, to whom I served as cushion, were not damaged beyond the +power of yelling, and were quite restored in half-an-hour, but I was +undermost, and the consequence has been a curved spine, dwarfed stature, +an elevated shoulder, and a shortened, nearly useless leg.</p> +<p>What I do remember, is my mother reading to me Miss Edgeworth’s +<i>Frank and the little do Trusty</i>, as I lay in my crib in her bedroom. +I made one of my nieces hunt up the book for me the other day, and the +story brought back at once the little crib, or the watered blue moreen +canopy of the big four-poster to which I was sometimes lifted for a +change; even the scrawly pattern of the paper, which my weary eyes made +into purple elves perpetually pursuing crimson ones, the foremost of +whom always turned upside down; and the knobs in the Marseilles counterpane +with which my fingers used to toy. I have heard my mother tell +that whenever I was most languid and suffering I used to whine out, +‘O do read <i>Frank and the little dog Trusty</i>,’ and +never permitted a single word to be varied, in the curious childish +love of reiteration with its soothing power.</p> +<p>I am afraid that any true picture of our parents, especially of my +mother, will not do them justice in the eyes of the young people of +the present day, who are accustomed to a far more indulgent government, +and yet seem to me to know little of the loyal veneration and submission +with which we have, through life, regarded our father and mother. +It would have been reckoned disrespectful to address them by these names; +they were through life to us, in private, papa and mamma, and we never +presumed to take a liberty with them. I doubt whether the petting, +patronising equality of terms on which children now live with their +parents be equally wholesome. There was then, however, strong +love and self-sacrificing devotion; but not manifested in softness or +cultivation of sympathy. Nothing was more dreaded than spoiling, +which was viewed as idle and unjustifiable self-gratification at the +expense of the objects thereof. There were an unlucky little pair +in Russell Square who were said to be ‘spoilt children,’ +and who used to be mentioned in our nursery with bated breath as a kind +of monsters or criminals. I believe our mother laboured under +a perpetual fear of spoiling Griff as the eldest, Clarence as the beauty, +me as the invalid, Emily (two years younger) as the only girl, and Martyn +as the after-thought, six years below our sister. She was always +performing little acts of conscientiousness, little as we guessed it.</p> +<p>Thus though her unremitting care saved my life, and was such that +she finally brought on herself a severe and dangerous illness, she kept +me in order all the time, never wailed over me nor weakly pitied me, +never permitted resistance to medicine nor rebellion against treatment, +enforced little courtesies, insisted on every required exertion, and +hardly ever relaxed the rule of Spartan fortitude in herself as in me. +It is to this resolution on her part, carried out consistently at whatever +present cost to us both, that I owe such powers of locomotion as I possess, +and the habits of exertion that have been even more valuable to me.</p> +<p>When at last, after many weeks, nay months, of this watchfulness, +she broke down, so that her life was for a time in danger, the lack +of her bracing and tender care made my life very trying, after I found +myself transported to the nursery, scarcely understanding why, accused +of having by my naughtiness made ray poor mamma so ill, and discovering +for the first time that I was a miserable, naughty little fretful being, +and with nobody but Clarence and the housemaid to take pity on me.</p> +<p>Nurse Gooch was a masterful, trustworthy woman, and was laid under +injunctions not to indulge Master Edward. She certainly did not +err in that respect, though she attended faithfully to my material welfare; +but woe to me if I gave way to a little moaning; and what I felt still +harder, she never said ‘good boy’ if I contrived to abstain.</p> +<p>I hear of carpets, curtains, and pictures in the existing nurseries. +They must be palaces compared with our great bare attic, where nothing +was allowed that could gather dust. One bit of drugget by the +fireside, where stood a round table at which the maids talked and darned +stockings, was all that hid the bare boards; the walls were as plain +as those of a workhouse, and when the London sun did shine, it glared +into my eyes through the great unshaded windows. There was a deal +table for the meals (and very plain meals they were), and two or three +big presses painted white for our clothes, and one cupboard for our +toys. I must say that Gooch was strictly just, and never permitted +little Emily, nor Griff - though he was very decidedly the favourite, +- to bear off my beloved woolly dog to be stabled in the houses of wooden +bricks which the two were continually constructing for their menagerie +of maimed animals.</p> +<p>Griff was deservedly the favourite with every one who was not, like +our parents, conscientiously bent on impartiality. He was so bright +and winning, he had such curly tight-rolled hair with a tinge of auburn, +such merry bold blue eyes, such glowing dimpled cheeks, such a joyous +smile all over his face, and such a ringing laugh; he was so strong, +brave, and sturdy, that he was a boy to be proud of, and a perfect king +in his own way, making every one do as he pleased. All the maids, +and Peter the footman, were his slaves, every one except nurse and mamma, +and it was only by a strong effort of principle that they resisted him; +while he dragged Clarence about as his devoted though not always happy +follower.</p> +<p>Alas! for Clarence! Courage was not in him. The fearless +infant boy chiefly dwells in conventional fiction, and valour seldom +comes before strength. Moreover, I have come to the opinion that +though no one thought of it at the time, his nerves must have had a +terrible and lasting shock at the accident and at the sight of my crushed +and deathly condition, which occupied every one too much for them to +think of soothing or shielding him. At any rate, fear was the +misery of his life. Darkness was his horror. He would scream +till he brought in some one, though he knew it would be only to scold +or slap him. The housemaid’s closet on the stairs was to +him an abode of wolves. Mrs. Gatty’s tale of <i>The Tiger +in the Coal-box</i> is a transcript of his feelings, except that no +one took the trouble to reassure him; something undefined and horrible +was thought to wag in the case of the eight-day clock; and he could +not bear to open the play cupboard lest ‘something’ should +jump out on him. The first time he was taken to the Zoological +Gardens, the monkeys so terrified him that a bystander insisted on Gooch’s +carrying him away lest he should go into fits, though Griffith was shouting +with ecstasy, and could hardly forgive the curtailment of his enjoyment.</p> +<p>Clarence used to aver that he really did see ‘things’ +in the dark, but as he only shuddered and sobbed instead of describing +them, he was punished for ‘telling fibs,’ though the housemaid +used to speak under her breath of his being a ‘Sunday child.’ +And after long penance, tied to his stool in the corner, he would creep +up to me and whisper, ‘But, Eddy, I really did!’</p> +<p>However, it was only too well established in the nursery that Clarence’s +veracity was on a par with his courage. When taxed with any misdemeanour, +he used to look round scared and bewildered, and utter a flat demur. +One scene in particular comes before me. There were strict laws +against going into shops or buying dainties without express permission +from mamma or nurse; but one day when Clarence had by some chance been +sent out alone with the good natured housemaid, his fingers were found +sticky.</p> +<p>‘Now, Master Clarence, you’ve been a naughty boy, eating +of sweets,’ exclaimed stern Justice in a mob cap and frills.</p> +<p>‘No - no - ’ faltered the victim; but, alas! Mrs. +Gooch had only to thrust her hand into the little pocket of his monkey +suit to convict him on the spot.</p> +<p>The maid was dismissed with a month’s wages, and poor Clarence +underwent a strange punishment from my mother, who was getting about +again by that time, namely, a drop of hot sealing-wax on his tongue, +to teach him practically the doom of the false tongue. It might +have done him good if there had been sufficient encouragement to him +to make him try to win a new character, but it only added a fresh terror +to his mind; and nurse grew fond of manifesting her incredulity of his +assertions by always referring to Griff or to me, or even to little +Emily. What was worse, she used to point him out to her congeners +in the Square or the Park as ‘such a false child.’</p> +<p>He was a very pretty little fellow, with a delicately rosy face, +wistful blue eyes, and soft, light, wavy hair, and perhaps Gooch was +jealous of his attracting more notice than Griffith, and thought he +posed for admiration, for she used to tell people that no one could +guess what a child he was for slyness; so that he could not bear going +out with her, and sometimes bemoaned himself to me.</p> +<p>There must be a good deal of sneaking in the undeveloped nature, +for in those days I was ashamed of my preference for Clarence, the naughty +one. But there was no helping it, he was so much more gentle than +Griff, and would always give up any sport that incommoded me, instead +of calling me a stupid little ape, and becoming more boisterous after +the fashion of Griff. Moreover, he fetched and carried for me +unweariedly, and would play at spillekins, help to put up puzzles, and +enact little dramas with our wooden animals, such as Griff scorned as +only fit for babies. Even nurse allowed Clarence’s merits +towards me and little Emily, but always with the sigh: ‘If he +was but as good in other respects, but them quiet ones is always sly.’</p> +<p>Good Nurse Gooch! We all owe much to her staunch fidelity, +strong discipline, and unselfish devotion, but nature had not fitted +her to deal with a timid, sensitive child, of highly nervous temperament. +Indeed, persons of far more insight might have been perplexed by the +fact that Clarence was exemplary at church and prayers, family and private, +- whenever Griff would let him, that is to say, - and would add private +petitions of his own, sometimes of a startling nature. He never +scandalised the nursery, like Griff, by unseemly pranks on Sundays, +nor by innovations in the habits of Noah’s ark, but was as much +shocked as nurse when the lion was made to devour the elephant, or the +lion and wolf fought in an embrace fatal to their legs. Bible +stories and Watt’s hymns were more to Clarence than even to me, +and he used to ask questions for which Gooch’s theology was quite +insufficient, and which brought the invariable answers, ‘Now, +Master Clarry, I never did! Little boys should not ask such questions!’ +‘What’s the use of your pretending, sir! It’s +all falseness, that’s what it is! I hates hypercriting!’ +‘Don’t worrit, Master Clarence; you are a very naughty boy +to say such things. I shall put you in the corner!’</p> +<p>Even nurse was scared one night when Clarence had a frightful screaming +fit, declaring that he saw ‘her - her - all white,’ and +even while being slapped reiterated, ‘<i>her</i>, Lucy!’</p> +<p>Lucy was a kind elder girl in the Square gardens, a protector of +little timid ones. She was known to be at that time very ill with +measles, and in fact died that very night. Both my brothers sickened +the next day, and Emily and I soon followed their example, but no one +had it badly except Clarence, who had high fever, and very much delirium +each night, talking to people whom he thought he saw, so as to make +nurse regret her severity on the vision of Lucy.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER II - SCHOOLROOM DAYS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘In the loom of life-cloth pleasure,<br /> Ere +our childish days be told,<br />With the warp and woof enwoven,<br /> Glitters +like a thread of gold.’</p> +<p>JEAN INGELOW.</p> +<p>Looking back, I think my mother was the leading spirit in our household, +though she never for a moment suspected it. Indeed, the chess +queen must be the most active on the home board, and one of the objects +of her life was to give her husband a restful evening when he came home +to the six o’clock dinner. She also had to make both ends +meet on an income which would seem starvation at the present day; but +she was strong, spirited, and managing, and equal to all her tasks till +the long attendance upon me, and the consequent illness, forced her +to spare herself - a little - a very little.</p> +<p>Previously she had been our only teacher, except that my father read +a chapter of the Bible with us every morning before breakfast, and heard +the Catechism on a Sunday. For we could all read long before young +gentlefolks nowadays can say their letters. It was well for me, +since books with a small quantity of type, and a good deal of frightful +illustration, beguiled many of my weary moments. You may see my +special favourites, bound up, on the shelf in my bedroom. Crabbe’s +<i>Tales</i>, <i>Frank</i>, <i>the Parent’s Assistant</i>, and +later, Croker’s <i>Tales from English History</i>, Lamb’s +<i>Tales from Shakespeare</i>, <i>Tales of a Grandfather</i>, and the +<i>Rival Crusoes</i> stand pre-eminent - also <i>Mrs. Leicester’s +School</i>, with the ghost story cut out.</p> +<p>Fairies and ghosts were prohibited as unwholesome, and not unwisely. +The one would have been enervating to me, and the other would have been +a definite addition to Clarence’s stock of horrors. Indeed, +one story had been cut out of Crabbe’s <i>Tales</i>, and another +out of an Annual presented to Emily, but not before Griff had read the +latter, and the version he related to us probably lost nothing in the +telling; indeed, to this day I recollect the man, wont to slay the harmless +cricket on the hearth, and in a storm at sea pursued by a gigantic cockroach +and thrown overboard. The night after hearing this choice legend +Clarence was found crouching beside me in bed for fear of the cockroach. +I am afraid the vengeance was more than proportioned to the offence!</p> +<p>Even during my illness that brave mother struggled to teach my brothers’ +daily lessons, and my father heard them a short bit of Latin grammar +at his breakfast (five was thought in those days to be the fit age to +begin it, and fathers the fit teachers thereof). And he continued +to give this morning lesson when, on our return from airing at Ramsgate +after our recovery from the measles, my mother found she must submit +to transfer us to a daily governess.</p> +<p>Old Miss Newton’s attainments could not have been great, for +her answers to my inquiries were decidedly funny, and prefaced <i>sotto +voce</i> with, ‘What a child it is!’ But she was a +good kindly lady, who had the faculty of teaching, and of forestalling +rebellion; and her little thin corkscrew curls, touched with gray, her +pale eyes, prim black silk apron, and sandalled shoes, rise before me +full of happy associations of tender kindness and patience. She +was wise, too, in her own simple way. When nurse would have forewarned +her of Clarence’s failings in his own hearing, she cut the words +short by declaring that she should like never to find out which was +the naughty one. And when habit was too strong, and he had denied +the ink spot on the atlas, she persuasively wiled out a confession not +only to her but to mamma, who hailed the avowal as the beginning of +better things, and kissed instead of punishing.</p> +<p>Clarence’s queries had been snubbed into reserve, and I doubt +whether Miss Newton’s theoretic theology was very much more developed +than that of Mrs. Gooch, but her practice and devotion were admirable, +and she fostered religious sentiment among us, introducing little books +which were welcome in the restricted range of Sunday reading. +Indeed, Mrs. Sherwood’s have some literary merit, and her <i>Fairchild +Family</i> indulged in such delicious and eccentric acts of naughtiness +as quite atoned for all the religious teaching, and fascinated Griff, +though he was apt to be very impatient of certain little affectionate +lectures to which Clarence listened meekly. My father and mother +were both of the old-fashioned orthodox school, with minds formed on +Jeremy Taylor, Blair, South, and Secker, who thought it their duty to +go diligently to church twice on Sunday, communicate four times a year +(their only opportunities), after grave and serious preparation, read +a sermon to their household on Sunday evenings, and watch over their +children’s religious instruction, though in a reserved undemonstrative +manner. My father always read one daily chapter with us every +morning, one Psalm at family prayers, and my mother made us repeat a +few verses of Scripture before our other studies began; besides which +there was special teaching on Sunday, and an abstinence from amusements, +such as would now be called Sabbatarian, but a walk in the Park with +papa was so much esteemed that it made the day a happy and honoured +one to those who could walk.</p> +<p>There was little going into society, comparatively, for people in +our station, - solemn dinner-parties from time to time - two a year, +did we give, and then the house was turned upside down, - and now and +then my father dined out, or brought a friend home to dinner; and there +were so-called morning calls in the afternoon, but no tea-drinking. +For the most part the heads of the family dined alone at six, and afterwards +my father read aloud some book of biography or travels, while we children +were expected to employ ourselves quietly, threading beads, drawing, +or putting up puzzles, and listen or not as we chose, only not interrupt, +as we sat at the big, central, round, mahogany table. To this +hour I remember portions of Belzoni’s Researches and Franklin’s +terrible American adventures, and they bring back tones of my father’s +voice. As an authority ‘papa’ was seldom invoked, +except on very serious occasions, such as Griffith’s audacity, +Clarence’s falsehood, or my obstinacy; and then the affair was +formidable, he was judicial and awful, and, though he would graciously +forgive on signs of repentance, he never was sympathetic. He had +not married young, and there were forty years or more between him and +his sons, so that he had left too far behind him the feelings of boyhood +to make himself one with us, even if he had thought it right or dignified +to do so, - yet I cannot describe the depth of the respect and loyalty +he inspired in us nor the delight we felt in a word of commendation +or a special attention from him.</p> +<p>The early part of Miss Newton’s rule was unusually fertile +in such pleasures, and much might have been spared, could Clarence have +been longer under her influence; but Griff grew beyond her management, +and was taunted by ‘fellows in the Square’ into assertions +of manliness, such as kicking his heels, stealing her odd little fringed +parasol, pitching his books into the area, keeping her in misery with +his antics during their walks, and finally leading Clarence off after +Punch into the Rookery of St. Giles’s, where she could not follow, +because Emily was in her charge.</p> +<p>This was the crisis. She had to come home without the boys, +and though they arrived long before any of the authorities knew of their +absence, she owned with tears that she could not conscientiously be +responsible any longer for Griffith, - who not only openly defied her +authority, but had found out how little she knew, and laughed at her. +I have reason to believe also that my mother had discovered that she +frequented the preachings of Rowland Hill and Baptist Noel; and had +confiscated some unorthodox tracts presented to the servants, thus being +alarmed lest she should implant the seeds of dissent.</p> +<p>Parting with her after four years under her was a real grief. +Even Griff was fond of her; when once emancipated, he used to hug her +and bring her remarkable presents, and she heartily loved her tormentor. +Everybody did. It remained a great pleasure to get her to spend +an evening with us while the elders were gone out to dinner; nor do +I think she ever did us anything but good, though I am afraid we laughed +at ‘Old Newton’ as we grew older and more conceited. +We never had another governess. My mother read and enforced diligence +on Emily and me, and we had masters for different studies; the two boys +went to school; and when Martyn began to emerge from babyhood, Emily +was his teacher.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER III - WIN AND SLOW</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘The rude will shuffle through with ease enough:<br />Great +schools best suit the sturdy and the rough.’</p> +<p>COWPER.</p> +<p>At school Griffith was very happy, and brilliantly successful, alike +in study and sport, though sports were not made prominent in those days, +and triumphs in them were regarded by the elders with doubtful pride, +lest they should denote a lack of attention to matters of greater importance. +All his achievements were, however, poured forth by himself and Clarence +to Emily and me, and we felt as proud of them as if they had been our +own.</p> +<p>Clarence was industrious, and did not fail in his school work, but +when he came home for the holidays there was a cowed look about him, +and private revelations were made over my sofa that made my flesh creep. +The scars were still visible, caused by having been compelled to grasp +the bars of the grate bare-handed; and, what was worse, he had been +suspended outside a third story window by the wrists, held by a schoolfellow +of thirteen!</p> +<p>‘But what was Griff about?’ I demanded, with hot tears +of indignation.</p> +<p>‘Oh, Win! - that’s what they call him, and me Slow - +he said it would do me good. But I don’t think it did, Eddy. +It only makes my heart beat fit to choke me whenever I go near the passage +window.’</p> +<p>I could only utter a vain wish that I had been there and able to +fight for him, and I attacked Griff on the subject on the first opportunity.</p> +<p>‘Oh!’ was his answer, ‘it is only what all fellows +have to bear if there’s no pluck in them. They tried it +on upon me, you know, but I soon showed them it would not do’ +- with the cock of the nose, the flash of the eyes, the clench of the +fist, that were peculiarly Griff’s own; and when I pleaded that +he might have protected Clarence, he laughed scornfully. ‘As +to Slow, wretched being, a fellow can’t help bullying him. +It comes as natural as to a cat with a mouse.’ On further +and reiterated pleadings, Griff declared, first, that it was the only +thing to do Slow any good, or make a man of him; and next, that he heartily +wished that Winslow junior had been Miss Clara at once, as the fellows +called him - it was really hard on him (Griff) to have such a sneaking +little coward tied to him for a junior!</p> +<p>I particularly resented the term Slow, for Clarence had lately been +the foremost of us in his studies; but the idea that learning had anything +to do with the matter was derided, and as time went on, there was vexation +and displeasure at his progress not being commensurate with his abilities. +It would have been treason to schoolboy honour to let the elders know +that though a strong, high-spirited popular boy like ‘Win’ +might venture to excel big bullying dunces, such fair game as poor ‘Slow’ +could be terrified into not only keeping below them, but into doing +their work for them. To him Cowper’s ‘Tirocinium’ +had only too much sad truth.</p> +<p>As to his old failing, there were no special complaints, but in those +pre-Arnoldian times no lofty code of honour was even ideal among schoolboys, +or expected of them by masters; shuffling was thought natural, and allowances +made for faults in indolent despair.</p> +<p>My mother thought the Navy the proper element of boyhood, and her +uncle the Admiral promised a nomination, - a simple affair in those +happy days, involving neither examination nor competition. Griffith +was, however, one of those independent boys who take an aversion to +whatever is forced on them as their fate. He was ready and successful +with his studies, a hero among his comrades, and preferred continuing +at school to what he pronounced, on the authority of the nautical tales +freely thrown in our way, to be the life of a dog, only fit for the +fool of the family; besides, he had once been out in a boat, tasted +of sea-sickness, and been laughed at. My father was gratified, +thinking his brains too good for a midshipman, and pleased that he should +wish to tread in his own steps at Harrow and Oxford, and thus my mother +could not openly regret his degeneracy when all the rest of us were +crazy over <i>Tom Cringle’s Log</i>, and ready to envy Clarence +when the offer was passed on to him, and he appeared in the full glory +of his naval uniform. Not much choice had been offered to him. +My mother would have thought it shameful and ungrateful to have no son +available, my father was glad to have the boy’s profession fixed, +and he himself was rejoiced to escape from the miseries he knew only +too well, and ready to believe that uniform and dirk would make a man +of him at once, with all his terrors left behind. Perhaps the +chief drawback was that the ladies <i>would</i> say, ‘What a darling!’ +affording Griff endless opportunities for the good-humoured mockery +by which he concealed his own secret regrets. Did not even Selina +Clarkson, whose red cheeks, dark blue eyes, and jetty profusion of shining +curls, were our notion of perfect beauty, select the little naval cadet +for her partner at the dancing master’s ball?</p> +<p>In the first voyage, a cruise in the Pacific, all went well. +The good Admiral had carefully chosen ship and captain; there were an +excellent set of officers, a good tone among the midshipmen, and Clarence, +who was only twelve years old, was constituted the pet of the cockpit. +One lad in especial, Coles by name, attracted by Clarence’s pleasant +gentleness, and impelled by the generosity that shields the weak, became +his guardian friend, and protected him from all the roughnesses in his +power. If there were a fault in that excellent Coles, it was that +he made too much of a baby of his <i>protégé</i>, and +did not train him to shift for himself: but wisdom and moderation are +not characteristics of early youth. At home we had great enjoyment +of his long descriptive letters, which came under cover to our father +at the Admiralty, but were chiefly intended for my benefit. All +were proud of them, and great was my elation when I heard papa relate +some fact out of them with the preface, ‘My boy tells me, my boy +Clarence, in the <i>Calypso</i>; he writes a capital letter.’</p> +<p>How great was our ecstasy when after three years and a half we had +him at home again; handsome, vigorous, well-grown, excellently reported +of, fully justifying my mother’s assurances that the sea would +make a man of him. There was Griffith in the fifth form and a +splendid cricketer, but Clarence could stand up to him now, and Harrovian +exploits were tame beside stories of sharks and negroes, monkeys and +alligators. There was one in particular, about a whole boat’s +crew sitting down on what they thought was a fallen tree, but which +suddenly swept them all over on their faces, and turned out to be a +boa-constrictor, and would have embraced one of them if he had not had +the sail of the boat coiled round the mast, and palmed off upon him, +when he gorged it contentedly, and being found dead on the next landing, +his skin was used to cover the captain’s sea-chest. Clarence +declined to repeat this tale and many others before the elders, and +was displeased with Emily for referring to it in public. As to +his terrors, he took it for granted that an officer of H.M.S. <i>Calypso</i>, +had left them behind, and in fact, he naturally forgot and passed over +what he had not been shielded from, while his hereditary love of the +sea really made those incidental to his profession much more endurable +than the bullying he had undergone at school.</p> +<p>We were very happy that Christmas, and very proud of our boys. +One evening we were treated to a box at the pantomime, and even I was +able to go to it. We put our young sailor and our sister in the +forefront, and believed that every one was as much struck with them +as with the wonderful transformations of Goody-Two-Shoes under the wand +of Harlequin. Brother-like, we might tease our one girl, and call +her an affected little pussy cat, but our private opinion was that she +excelled all other damsels with her bright blue eyes and pretty curling +hair, which had the same chestnut shine as Griff’s - enough to +make us correct possible vanity by terming it red, though we were ready +to fight any one else who presumed to do so. Indeed Griff had +defended its hue in single combat, and his eye was treated for it with +beefsteak by Peter in the pantry. We were immensely, though silently, +proud of her in her white embroidered cambric frock, red sash and shoes, +and coral necklace, almost an heirloom, for it had been brought from +Sicily in Nelson’s days by my mother’s poor young father. +How parents and doctors in these days would have shuddered at her neck +and arms, bare, not only in the evening, but by day! When she +was a little younger she could so shrink up from her clothes that Griff, +or little Martyn, in a mischievous mood, would put things down her back, +to reappear below her petticoats. Once it was a dead wasp, which +descended harmlessly the length of her spine! She was a good-humoured, +affectionate, dear sister, my valued companion, submitting patiently +to be eclipsed when Clarence was present, and everything to me in his +absence. Sturdy little Martyn too, was held by us to be the most +promising of small boys. He was a likeness of Clarence, only stouter, +hardier, and without the delicate, girlish, wistful look; imitating +Griff in everything, and rather a heavy handful to Emily and me when +left to our care, though we were all the more proud of his high spirit, +and were fast becoming a mutual admiration society.</p> +<p>What then were our feelings when Griff, always fearless, dashed to +the rescue of a boy under whom the ice had broken in St. James’ +Park, and held him up till assistance came? Martyn, who was with +him, was sent home to fetch dry clothes and reassure my mother, which +he did by dashing upstairs, shouting, ‘Where’s mamma? +Here’s Griff been into the water and pulled out a boy, and they +don’t know if he is drowned; but he looks - oh!’</p> +<p>Even after my mother had elicited that Martyn’s <i>he</i> meant +the boy, and not Griff, she could not rest without herself going to +see that our eldest was unhurt, greet him, and bring him home. +What happy tears stood in her eyes, how my father shook hands with him, +how we drank his health after dinner, and how ungrateful I was to think +Clarence deserved his name of Slow for having stayed at home to play +chess with me because my back was aching, when he might have been winning +the like honours! How red and gruff and shy the hero looked, and +how he entreated no one to say any more about it!</p> +<p>He would not even look publicly at the paragraph about it in the +paper, only vituperating it for having made him into ‘a juvenile +Etonian,’ and hoping no one from Harrow would guess whom it meant.</p> +<p>I found that paragraph the other day in my mother’s desk, folded +over the case of the medal of the Royal Humane Society, which Griff +affected to despise, but which, when he was well out of the way, used +to be exhibited on high days and holidays. It seems now like the +boundary mark of the golden days of our boyhood, and unmitigated hopes +for one another.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER IV - UBI LAPSUS, QUID FECI</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Clarence is come - false, fleeting, perjured Clarence.’</p> +<p><i>King Richard III.</i></p> +<p>There was much stagnation in the Navy in those days in the reaction +after the great war; and though our family had fair interest at the +Admiralty, it was seven months before my brother went to sea again. +To me they were very happy months, with my helper of helpers, companion +of companions, who made possible to me many a little enterprise that +could not be attempted without him. My father made him share my +studies, and thus they became doubly pleasant. And oh, ye boys! +who murmur at the Waverley Novels as a dry holiday task, ye may envy +us the zest and enthusiasm with which we devoured them in their freshness. +Strangely enough, the last that we read together was the <i>Fair Maid +of Perth.</i></p> +<p>Clarence and his friend Coles longed to sail together again, but +Coles was shelved; and when Clarence’s appointment came at last, +it was to the brig <i>Clotho</i>, Commander Brydone, going out in the +Mediterranean Fleet, under Sir Edward Codrington. My mother did +not like brigs, and my father did not like what he heard of the captain; +but there had been jealous murmurs about appointments being absorbed +by sons of officials - he durst not pick and choose; and the Admiral +pronounced that if the lad had been spoilt on board the <i>Calypso</i>, +it was time for him to rough it - a dictum whence there was no appeal.</p> +<p>Half a year later the tidings of the victory of Navarino rang through +Europe, and were only half welcome to the conquerors; but in our household +it is connected with a terrible recollection. Though more than +half a century has rolled by, I shrink from dwelling on the shock that +fell on us when my father returned from Somerset House with such a countenance +that we thought our sailor had fallen; but my mother could brook the +fact far less than if her son had died a gallant death. The <i>Clotho</i> +was on her way home, and Midshipman William Clarence Winslow was to +be tried by court-martial for insubordination, disobedience, and drunkenness. +My mother was like one turned to stone. She would hardly go out +of doors; she could scarcely bring herself to go to church; she would +have had my father give up his situation if there had been any other +means of livelihood. She could not talk; only when my father sighed, +‘We should never have put him into the Navy,’ she hotly +replied,</p> +<p>‘How was I to suppose that a son of mine would be like that?’</p> +<p>Emily cried all day and all night. Some others would have felt +it a relief to have cried too. In more furious language than parents +in those days tolerated, Griff wrote to me his utter disbelief, and +how he had punched the heads of fellows who presumed to doubt that it +was not all a rascally, villainous plot.</p> +<p>When the time came my father went down by the night mail to Portsmouth. +He could scarcely bear to face the matter; but, as he said, he could +not have it on his conscience if the boy did anything desperate for +want of some one to look after him. Besides, there might be some +explanation.</p> +<p>‘Explanation,’ said my mother bitterly. ‘That +there always is!’</p> +<p>The ‘explanation’ was this - I have put together what +came out in evidence, what my father and the Admiral heard from commiserating +officers, and what at different times I learned from Clarence himself. +Captain Brydone was one of the rough old description of naval men, good +sailors and stern disciplinarians, but wanting in any sense of moral +duties towards their ship’s company. His lieutenant was +of the same class, soured, moreover, by tardy promotion, and prejudiced +against a gentleman-like, fair-faced lad, understood to have interest, +and bearing a name that implied it. Of the other two midshipmen, +one was a dull lad of low stamp, the other a youth of twenty, a born +bully, with evil as well as tyrannical propensities; - the crew conforming +to severe discipline on board, but otherwise wild and lawless. +In such a ship a youth with good habits, sensitive conscience, and lack +of moral or physical courage, could not but lead a life of misery, losing +every day more of his self-respect and spirit as he was driven to the +evil he loathed, dreading the consequences, temporal and eternal, with +all his soul, yet without resolution or courage to resist.</p> +<p>As every one knows, the battle of Navarino came on suddenly, almost +by mistake; and though it is perhaps no excuse, the hurly-burly and +horror burst upon him at unawares. Though the English loss was +comparatively very small, the <i>Clotho</i> was a good deal exposed, +and two men were killed - one so close to Clarence that his clothes +were splashed with blood. This entirely unnerved him; he did not +even know what he did, but he was not to be found when required to carry +an order, and was discovered hidden away below, shuddering, in his berth, +and then made some shallow excuse about misunderstanding orders. +Whether this would have been brought up against him under other circumstances, +or whether it would have been remembered that great men, including Charles +V. and Henri IV., have had their <i>moment de peur</i>, I cannot tell; +but there were other charges. I cannot give date or details. +There is no record among the papers before me; and I can only vaguely +recall what could hardly be read for the sense of agony, was never discussed, +and was driven into the most oblivious recesses of the soul fifty years +ago. There was a story about having let a boat’s crew, of +which he was in charge, get drunk and over-stay their time. One +of them deserted; and apparently prevarication ran to the bounds of +perjury, if it did not overpass them. (N.B. - Seeing seamen flogged +was one of the sickening horrors that haunted Clarence in the <i>Clotho</i>.) +Also, when on shore at Malta with the young man whose name I will not +record - his evil genius - he was beguiled or bullied into a wine-shop, +and while not himself was made the cat’s-paw of some insolent +practical joke on the lieutenant; and when called to account, was so +bewildered and excited as to use unpardonable language.</p> +<p>Whatever it might have been in detail, so much was proved against +him that he was dismissed his ship, and his father was recommended to +withdraw him from the service, as being disqualified by want of nerve. +Also, it was added more privately, that such vicious tendencies needed +home restraint. The big bully, his corrupter, bore witness against +him, but did not escape scot free, for one of the captains spoke to +him in scathing tones of censure.</p> +<p>Whenever my mother was in trouble, she always re-arranged the furniture, +and a family crisis was always heralded by a revolution of chairs, tables, +and sofas. She could not sit still under suspense, and, during +these terrible days the entire house underwent a setting to rights. +Emily attended upon her, and I sat and dusted books. No doubt +it was much better for us than sitting still. My father’s +letter came by the morning mail, telling us of the sentence, and that +he and our poor culprit, as he said, would come home by the Portsmouth +coach in the evening.</p> +<p>One room was already in order when Sir John Griffith kindly came +to see whether he could bring any comfort to a spirit which would infinitely +have preferred death to dishonour, and was, above all, shocked at the +lack of physical courage. Never had I liked our old Admiral so +well as when I heard how his chief anger was directed against the general +mismanagement, and the cruelty of blighting a poor lad’s life +when not yet seventeen. His father might have been warned to remove +him without the public scandal of a court-martial and dismissal.</p> +<p>‘The guilt and shame would have been all the same to us,’ +said my mother.</p> +<p>‘Come, Mary, don’t be hard on the poor fellow. +In quiet times like these a poor boy can’t look over the wall +where one might have stolen a horse, ay, or a dozen horses, when there +was something else to think about!’</p> +<p>‘You would not have forgiven such a thing, sir.’</p> +<p>‘It never would have happened under me, or in any decently +commanded ship!’ he thundered. ‘There wasn’t +a fault to be found with him in the <i>Calypso</i>. What possessed +Winslow to let him sail with Brydone? But the service is going,’ +etc. etc., he ran on - forgetting that it was he himself who had been +unwilling, perhaps rightly, to press the Duke of Clarence for an appointment +to a crack frigate for his namesake. However, when he took leave +he repeated, as he kissed my mother, ‘Mind, Mary, don’t +be set against the lad. That’s the way to make ’em +desperate, and he is a mere boy, after all.’</p> +<p>Poor mother, it was not so much hardness as a wounded spirit that +made her look so rigid. It might have been better if the return +could have been delayed so as to make her yearn after her son, but there +was nowhere for him to go, and the coach was already on its way. +How strange it was to feel the wonted glow at Clarence’s return +coupled with a frightful sense of disgrace and depression.</p> +<p>The time was far on in October, and it was thus quite dark when the +travellers arrived, having walked from Charing Cross, where the coach +set them down. My father came in first, and my mother clung to +him as if he had been absent for weeks, while all the joy of contact +with my brother swept over me, even though his hand hung limp in mine, +and was icy cold like his cheeks. My father turned to him with +one of the little set speeches of those days. ‘Here is our +son, Mary, who has promised me to do his utmost to retrieve his character, +as far as may be possible, and happily he is still young.’</p> +<p>My mother’s embrace was in a sort of mechanical obedience to +her husband’s gesture, and her voice was not perhaps meant to +be so severe as it sounded when she said, ‘You are very cold - +come and warm yourself.’</p> +<p>They made room for him by the fire, and my father stood up in front +of it, giving particulars of the journey. Emily and Martyn were +at tea in the nursery, in a certain awe that hindered them from coming +down; indeed, Martyn seems to have expected to see some strange transformation +in his brother. Indeed, there was alteration in the absence of +the blue and gold, and, still more, in the loss of the lightsome, hopeful +expression from the young face.</p> +<p>There is a picture of Ary Scheffer’s of an old knight, whose +son had fled from the battle, cutting the tablecloth in two between +himself and the unhappy youth. Like that stern baron’s countenance +was that with which my mother sat at the head of the dinner-table, and +we conversed by jerks about whatever we least cared for, as if we could +hide our wretchedness from Peter. When the children appeared each +gave Clarence the shyest of kisses, and they sat demurely on their chairs +on either side of my father to eat their almonds and raisins, after +which we went upstairs, and there was the usual reading. It is +curious, but though none of us could have told at the time what it was +about, on turning over not long ago a copy of Head’s <i>Pampas +and Andes</i>, one chapter struck me with an intolerable sense of melancholy, +such as the bull chases of South America did not seem adequate to produce, +and by and by I remembered that it was the book in course of being read +at that unhappy period. My mother went on as diligently as ever +with some of those perpetual shirts which seemed to be always in hand +except before company, when she used to do tambour work for Emily’s +frocks. Clarence sat the whole time in a dark corner, never stirring, +except that he now and then nodded a little. He had gone through +many wakeful, and worse than wakeful, nights of wretched suspense, and +now the worst was over.</p> +<p>Family prayers took place, chill good-nights were exchanged, and +nobody interfered with his helping me up to my bedroom as usual; but +there was something in his face to which I durst not speak, though perhaps +I looked, for he exclaimed, ‘Don’t, Ned!’ wrung my +hand, and sped away to his own quarters higher up. Then came a +sound which made me open my door to listen. Dear little Emily! +She had burst out of her own room in her dressing-gown, and flung herself +upon her brother as he was plodding wearily upstairs in the dark, clinging +round his neck sobbing, ‘Dear, dear Clarry! I can’t +bear it! I don’t care. You’re my own dear brother, +and they are all wicked, horrid people.’</p> +<p>That was all I heard, except hushings on Clarence’s part, as +if the opening of my door and the thread of light from it warned him +that there was risk of interruption. He seemed to be dragging +her up to her own room, and I was left with a pang at her being foremost +in comforting him.</p> +<p>My father enacted that he should be treated as usual. But how +could that be when papa himself did not know how changed were his own +ways from his kindly paternal air of confidence? All trust had +been undermined, so that Clarence could not cross the threshold without +being required to state his object, and, if he overstayed the time calculated, +he was cross-examined, and his replies received with a sigh of doubt.</p> +<p>He hung about the house, not caring to do much, except taking me +out in my Bath chair or languidly reading the most exciting books he +could get; - but there was no great stock of sensation then, except +the Byronic, and from time to time one of my parents would exclaim, +‘Clarence, I wonder you can find nothing more profitable to occupy +yourself with than trash like that!’</p> +<p>He would lay down the book without a word, and take up Smith’s +<i>Wealth of Nations</i> or Smollett’s <i>England</i> - the profitable +studies recommended, and speedily become lost in a dejected reverie, +with fixed eyes and drooping lips.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER V - A HELPING HAND</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Though hawks can prey through storms and winds,<br />The poor +bee in her hive must dwell.’</p> +<p>HENRY VAUGHAN.</p> +<p>In imagination the piteous dejection of our family seems to have +lasted for ages, but on comparison of dates it is plain that the first +lightening of the burthen came in about a fortnight’s time.</p> +<p>The firm of Frith and Castleford was coming to the front in the Chinese +trade. The junior partner was an old companion of my father’s +boyhood; his London abode was near at hand, and he was a kind of semi-godfather +to both Clarence and me, having stood proxy for our nominal sponsors. +He was as good and open-hearted a man as ever lived, and had always +been very kind to us; but he was scarcely welcome when my father, finding +that he had come up alone to London to see about some repairs to his +house, while his family were still in the country, asked him to dine +and sleep - our first guest since our misfortune.</p> +<p>My mother could hardly endure to receive any one, but she seemed +glad to see my father become animated and like himself while Roman Catholic +Emancipation was vehemently discussed, and the ruin of England hotly +predicted. Clarence moped about silently as usual, and tried to +avoid notice, and it was not till the next morning - after breakfast, +when the two gentlemen were in the dining-room, nearly ready to go their +several ways, and I was in the window awaiting my classical tutor - +that Mr. Castleford said,</p> +<p>‘May I ask, Winslow, if you have any plans for that poor boy?’</p> +<p>‘Edward?’ said my father, almost wilfully misunderstanding. +‘His ambition is to be curator of something in the British Museum, +isn’t it?’</p> +<p>Mr. Castleford explained that he meant the other, and my father sadly +answered that he hardly knew; he supposed the only thing was to send +him to a private tutor, but where to find a fit one he did not know +and besides, what could be his aim? Sir John Griffith had said +he was only fit for the Church, ‘But one does not wish to dispose +of a tarnished article there.’</p> +<p>‘Certainly not,’ said Mr. Castleford; and then he spoke +words that rejoiced my heart, though they only made my father groan, +bidding him remember that it was not so much actual guilt as the accident +of Clarence’s being in the Navy that had given so serious a character +to his delinquencies. If he had been at school, perhaps no one +would ever have heard of them, ‘Though I don’t say,’ +added the good man, casting a new light on the subject, ‘that +it would have been better for him in the end.’ Then, quite +humbly, for he knew my mother especially had a disdain for trade, he +asked what my father would think of letting him give Clarence work in +the office for the present. ‘I know,’ he said, ‘it +is not the line your family might prefer, but it is present occupation; +and I do not think you could well send a youth who has seen so much +of the world back to schooling. Besides, this would keep him under +your own eye.’</p> +<p>My father was greatly touched by the kindness, but he thought it +right to set before Mr. Castleford the very worst side of poor Clarence; +declaring that he durst not answer for a boy who had never, in spite +of pains and punishments, learnt to speak truth at home or abroad, repeating +Captain Brydone’s dreadful report, and even adding that, what +was most grievous of all, there was an affectation of piety about him +that could scarcely be anything but self-deceit and hypocrisy. +‘Now,’ he said, ‘my eldest son, Griffith, is just +a boy, makes no profession, is not - as I am afraid you have seen - +exemplary at church, when Clarence sits as meek as a mouse, but then +he is always above-board, frank and straightforward. You know +where to have a high-spirited fellow, who will tame down, but you never +know what will come next with the other. I sometimes wonder for +what error of mine Providence has seen fit to give me such a son.’</p> +<p>Just then an important message came for Mr. Winslow, and he had to +hurry away, but Mr. Castleford still remained, and presently said,</p> +<p>‘Edward, I should like to know what your eyes have been trying +to say all this time.’</p> +<p>‘Oh, sir,’ I burst out, ‘do give him a chance. +Indeed he never means to do wrong. The harm is not in him. +He would have been the best of us all if he had only been let alone.’</p> +<p>Those were exactly my own foolish words, for which I could have beaten +myself afterwards; but Mr. Castleford only gave a slight grave smile, +and said, ‘You mean that your brother’s real defect is in +courage, moral and physical.’</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ I said, with a great effort at expressing myself. +‘When he is frightened, or bullied, or browbeaten, he does not +know what he is doing or saying. He is quite different when he +is his own self; only nobody can understand.’</p> +<p>Strange that though the favoured home son and nearly sixteen years +old, it would have been impossible to utter so much to one of our parents. +Indeed the last sentence felt so disloyal that the colour burnt in my +cheeks as the door opened; but it only admitted Clarence, who, having +heard the front door shut, thought the coast was clear, and came in +with a load of my books and dictionaries.</p> +<p>‘Clarence,’ said Mr. Castleford, and the direct address +made him start and flush, ‘supposing your father consents, should +you be willing to turn your mind to a desk in my counting-house?’</p> +<p>He flushed deeper red, and his fingers quivered as he held by the +table. ‘Thank you, sir. Anything - anything,’ +he said hesitatingly.</p> +<p>‘Well,’ said Mr. Castleford, with the kindest of voices, +‘let us have it out. What is in your mind? You know, +I’m a sort of godfather to you.’</p> +<p>‘Sir, if you would only let me have a berth on board one of +your vessels, and go right away.’</p> +<p>‘Aye, my poor boy, that’s what you would like best, I’ve +no doubt; but look at Edward’s face there, and think what that +would come to at the best!’</p> +<p>‘Yes, I know I have no right to choose,’ said Clarence, +drooping his head as before.</p> +<p>‘’Tis not that, my dear lad,’ said the good man, +‘but that packing you off like that, among your inferiors in breeding +and everything else, would put an end to all hope of your redeeming +the past - outwardly I mean, of course - and lodge you in a position +of inequality to your brothers and sister, and all - ’</p> +<p>‘That’s done already,’ said Clarence.</p> +<p>‘If you were a man grown it might be so,’ returned Mr. +Castleford, ‘but bless me, how old are you?’</p> +<p>‘Seventeen next 1st of November,’ said Clarence.</p> +<p>‘Not a bit too old for a fresh beginning,’ said Mr. Castleford +cheerily. ‘God helping you, you will be a brave and good +man yet, my boy - ’ then as my master rang at the door - ‘Come +with me and look at the old shop.’</p> +<p>Poor Clarence muttered something unintelligible, and I had to own +for him that he never went out without accounting for himself. +Whereupon our friend caused my mother to be hunted up, and explained +to her that he wanted to take Clarence out with him - making some excuse +about something they were to see together.</p> +<p>That walk enabled him to say something which came nearer to cheering +Clarence than anything that had passed since that sad return, and made +him think that to be connected with Mr. Castleford was the best thing +that could befall him. Mr. Castleford on his side told my father +that he was sure that the boy was good-hearted all the time, and thoroughly +repentant; but this had the less effect because plausibility, as my +father called it, was one of the qualities that specially annoyed him +in Clarence, and made him fear that his friend might be taken in. +However, the matter was discussed between the elders, and it was determined +that this most friendly offer should be accepted experimentally. +It was impressed on Clarence, with unnecessary care, that the line of +life was inferior; but that it was his only chance of regaining anything +like a position, and that everything depended on his industry and integrity.</p> +<p>‘Integrity!’ commented Clarence, with a burning spot +on his cheek after one of these lectures; ‘I believe they think +me capable of robbing the office!’</p> +<p>We found out, too, that the senior partner, Mr. Frith, a very crusty +old bachelor, did not like the appointment, and that it was made quite +against his will. ‘You’ll be getting your clerks next +from Newgate!’ was what some amiable friend reported him to have +said. However, Mr. Castleford had his way, and Clarence was to +begin his work with the New Year, being in the meantime cautioned and +lectured on the crime and danger of his evil propensities more than +he could well bear. ‘Oh!’ he groaned, ‘it serves +me right, I know that very well, but if my father only knew how I hate +and abhor all those things - and how I loathed them at the very time +I was dragged into them!’</p> +<p>‘Why don’t you tell him so?’ I asked.</p> +<p>‘That would make it no better.’</p> +<p>‘It is not so bad as if you had gone into it willingly, and +for your own pleasure.’</p> +<p>‘He would only think that another lie.’</p> +<p>No more could be said, for the idea of Clarence’s untruthfulness +and depravity had become so deeply rooted in our father’s mind +that there was little hope of displacing it, and even at the best his +manner was full of grave constrained pity. Those few words were +Clarence’s first approach to confidence with me, but they led +to more, and he knew there was one person who did not believe the defect +was in the bent of his will so much as in its strength.</p> +<p>All the time the prospect of the counting-house in comparison with +the sea was so distasteful to him that I was anxious whenever he went +out alone, or even with Griffith, who despised the notion of, as he +said, sitting on a high stool, dealing in tea, so much that he was quite +capable of aiding and abetting in an escape from it. Two considerations, +however, held Clarence back; one, the timidity of nature which shrank +from so violent a step, and the other, the strong affections that bound +him to his home, though his sojourn there was so painful. He knew +the misery his flight would have been to me; indeed I took care to let +him see it.</p> +<p>And Griffith’s return was like a fresh spring wind dispersing +vapours. He had gained an excellent scholarship at Brazenose, +and came home radiant with triumph, cheering us all up, and making a +generous use of his success. He was no letter-writer, and after +learning that the disaster and disgrace were all too certain, he ignored +the whole, and hailed Clarence on his return as if nothing had happened. +As eldest son, and almost a University man, he could argue with our +parents in a manner we never presumed on. At least I cannot aver +what he actually uttered, but probably it was a revised version of what +he thundered forth to me. ‘Such nonsense! such a shame to +keep the poor beggar going about with that hang dog look, as if he had +done for himself for life! Why, I’ve known fellows do ever +so much worse of their own accord, and nothing come of it. If +it was found out, there might be a row and a flogging, and there was +an end of it. As to going about mourning, and keeping the whole +house in doleful dumps, as if there was never to be any good again, +it was utter folly, and so I’ve told Bill, and papa and mamma, +both of them!’</p> +<p>How this was administered, or how they took it, there is no knowing, +but Griff would neither skate nor go to the theatre, nor to any other +diversion, without his brother; and used much kindly force and banter +to unearth him from his dismal den in the back drawing-room. He +was only let alone when there were engagements with friends, and indeed, +when meetings in the streets took place, by tacit agreement, Clarence +would shrink off in the crowd as if not belonging to his companion; +and these were the moments that stung him into longing to flee to the +river, and lose the sense of shame among common sailors: but there was +always some good angel to hold him back from desperate measures - chiefly +just then, the love between us three brothers, a love that never cooled +throughout our lives, and which dear old Griff made much more apparent +at this critical time than in the old Win and Slow days of school. +That return of his enlivened us all, and removed the terrible constraint +from our meals, bringing us back, as it were, to ordinary life and natural +intercourse among ourselves and with our neighbours.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER VI - THE VALLEY OF HUMILIATION</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘But when I lay upon the shore,<br /> Like +some poor wounded thing,<br />I deemed I should not evermore<br /> Refit +my wounded wing.<br />Nailed to the ground and fastened there,<br />This +was the thought of my despair.’</p> +<p>ABP. TRENCH.</p> +<p>Clarence’s debut at the office was not wholly unsuccessful. +He wrote a good hand, and had a good deal of method and regularity in +his nature, together with a real sense of gratitude to Mr. Castleford; +and this bore him through the weariness of his new employment, and, +what was worse, the cold reception he met with from the other clerks. +He was too quiet and reserved for the wilder spirits, too much of a +gentleman for others, and in the eyes of the managers, and especially +of the senior partner, a disgraced, untrustworthy youth foisted on the +office by Mr. Castleford’s weak partiality. That old Mr. +Frith had, Clarence used to say, a perfectly venomous way of accepting +his salute, and seemed always surprised and disappointed if he came +in in time, or showed up correct work. Indeed, the old man was +disliked and feared by all his subordinates as much as his partner was +loved; and while Mr. Castleford, with his good-natured Irish wife and +merry family, lived a life as cheerful as it was beneficent, Mr. Frith +dwelt entirely alone, in rooms over the office, preserving the habits +formed when his income had been narrow, and mistrusting everybody.</p> +<p>At the end of the first month of experiment, Mr. Castleford declared +himself contented with Clarence’s industry and steadiness, and +permanent arrangements were made, to which Clarence submitted with an +odd sort of passive gratitude, such as almost angered my father, who +little knew how trying the position really was, nor how a certain home-sickness +for the seafaring life was tugging at the lad’s heart, and making +each morning’s entrance at the counting-house an effort - each +merchant-captain, redolent of the sea, an object of envy. My mother +would have sympathised here, but Clarence feared her more than my father, +and she was living in continual dread of some explosion, so that her +dark curls began to show streaks of gray, and her face to lose its round +youthfulness.</p> +<p>Lent brought the question of Confirmation. Under the influence +of good Bishop Blomfield, and in the wave of evangelical revival - then +at its flood height - Confirmation was becoming a more prominent subject +with religious people than it had probably ever been in our Church, +and it was recognised that some preparation was desirable beyond the +power of repeating the Church Catechism. This was all that had +been required of my father at Harrow. My mother’s godfather, +a dignified clergyman, had simply said, ‘I suppose, my dear, you +know all about it;’ and as for the Admiral, he remarked, ‘Confirmed! +I never was confirmed anything but a post-captain!’</p> +<p>Our incumbent was more attentive to his duties, or rather recognised +more duties, than his predecessor. He preached on the subject, +and formed classes, sixteen being then the limit of age, - since the +idea of the vow, having become far more prominent than that of the blessing, +it was held that full development of the will and understanding was +needful.</p> +<p>I was of the requisite age, and my father spoke to the clergyman, +who called, and, as I could not attend the classes, gave me books to +read and questions to answer. Clarence read and discussed the +questions with me, showing so much more insight into them, and fuller +knowledge of Scripture than I possessed, that I exclaimed, ‘Why +should you not go up for Confirmation too?’</p> +<p>‘No,’ he answered mournfully. ‘I must take +no more vows if I can’t keep them. It would just be profane.’</p> +<p>I had no more to say; indeed, my parents held the same view. +It was good Mr. Castleford who saw things differently. He was +a clergyman’s son, and had been bred up in the old orthodoxy, +which was just beginning to put forth fresh shoots, and, as a quasi-godfather, +he held himself bound to take an interest in our religious life, while +the sponsors, whose names stood in the family Bible, and whose spoons +reposed in the plate-chest, never troubled themselves on the matter. +I remember Clarence leaning over me and saying, ‘Mr. Castleford +thinks I might be confirmed. He says it is not so much the promise +we make as of coming to Almighty God for strength to keep what we are +bound by already! He is going to speak to papa.’</p> +<p>Perhaps no one except Mr. Castleford could have prevailed over the +fear of profanation in the mind of my father, who was, in his old-fashioned +way, one of the most reverent of men, and could not bear to think of +holy things being approached by one under a stigma, nor of exposing +his son to add to his guilt by taking and breaking further pledges. +However, he was struck by his friend’s arguments, and I heard +him telling my mother that when he had wished to wait till there had +been time to prove sincerity of repentance by a course of steadiness, +the answer had been that it was hard to require strength, while denying +the means of grace. My mother was scarcely convinced, but as he +had consented she yielded without a protest; and she was really glad +that I should have Clarence at my side to help me at the ceremony. +The clergyman was applied to, and consented to let Clarence attend the +classes, where his knowledge, comprehension, and behaviour were exemplary, +so that a letter was written to my father expressive of perfect satisfaction +with him. ‘There,’ said my father, ‘I knew it +would be so! It is not <i>that</i> which I want.’</p> +<p>The Confirmation seemed at the time a very short and perfunctory +result of our preparation; and, as things were conducted or misconducted +then, involved so much crowding and distress that I recollect very little +but clinging to Clarence’s arm under a strong sense of my infirmities, +- the painful attempt at kneeling, and the big outstretched lawn sleeves +while the blessing was pronounced over six heads at once, and then the +struggle back to the pew, while the silver-pokered apparitor looked +grim at us, as though the maimed and halt had no business to get into +the way. Yet this was a great advance upon former Confirmations, +and the Bishop met my father afterwards, and inquired most kindly after +his lame son.</p> +<p>We were disappointed, and felt that we could not attain to the feelings +in the Confirmation poem in the <i>Christian Year</i> - Mr. Castleford’s +gift to me. Still, I believe that, though encumbered with such +a drag as myself, Clarence, more than I did,</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘Felt Him how strong, our hearts how frail,<br />And longed +to own Him to the death.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>But the evangelical belief that dejection ought to be followed by +a full sense of pardon and assurance of salvation somewhat perplexed +and dimmed our Easter Communion. For one short moment, as Clarence +turned to help my father lift me up from the altar-rail, I saw his face +and eyes radiant with a wonderful rapt look; but it passed only too +fast, and the more than ordinary glimpse his spiritual nature had had +made him all the more sad afterwards, when he said, ‘I would give +everything to know that there was any steadfastness in my purpose to +lead a new life.’</p> +<p>‘But you are leading a new life.’</p> +<p>‘Only because there is no one to bully me,’ he said. +Still, there had been no reproach against him all the time he had been +at Frith and Castleford’s, when suddenly we had a great shock.</p> +<p>Parties were running very high, and there were scurrilous papers +about, which my father perfectly abhorred; and one day at dinner, when +declaiming against something he had seen, he laid down strict commands +that none should be brought into the house. Then, glancing at +Clarence, something possessed him to say, ‘You have not been buying +any.’</p> +<p>‘No, sir,’ Clarence answered; but a few minutes later, +when we were alone together, the others having left him to help me upstairs, +he exclaimed, ‘Edward, what is to be done? I didn’t +buy it; but there is one of those papers in my great-coat pocket. +Pollard threw it on my desk; and there was something in it that I thought +would amuse you.’</p> +<p>‘Oh! why didn’t you say so?’</p> +<p>‘There I am again! I simply could not, with his eye on +me! Miserable being that I am! Oh, where is the spirit of +ghostly strength?’</p> +<p>‘Helping you now to take it to papa in the study and explain!’ +I cried; but the struggle in that tall fellow was as if he had been +seven years old instead of seventeen, ere he put his hand over his face +and gave me his arm to come out into the hall, fetch the paper, and +make his confession. Alas! we were too late. The coat had +been moved, the paper had fallen out; and there stood my mother with +it in her hand, looking at Clarence with an awful stony face of mute +grief and reproach, while he stammered forth what he had said before, +and that he was about to give it to my father. She turned away, +bitterly, contemptuously indignant and incredulous; and my corroborations +only served to give both her and my father a certain dread of Clarence’s +influence over me, as though I had been either deceived or induced to +back him in deceiving them. The unlucky incident plunged him back +into the depths, just as he had begun to emerge. Slight as it +was, it was no trifle to him, in spite of Griffith’s exclamation, +‘How absurd! Is a fellow to be bound to give an account +of everything he looks at as if he were six years old? Catch me +letting my mother pry into my pockets! But you are too meek, Bill; +you perfectly invite them to make a row about nothing!’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER VII - THE INHERITANCE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘For he that needs five thousand pound to live<br />Is full +as poor as he that needs but five.<br />But if thy son can make ten +pound his measure,<br />Then all thou addest may be called his treasure.’</p> +<p>GEORGE HERBERT.</p> +<p>It was in the spring of 1829 that my father received a lawyer’s +letter announcing the death of James Winslow, Esquire, of Chantry House, +Earlscombe, and inviting him, as heir-at-law, to be present at the funeral +and opening of the will. The surprise to us all was great. +Even my mother had hardly heard of Chantry House itself, far less as +a possible inheritance; and she had only once seen James Winslow. +He was the last of the elder branch of the family, a third cousin, and +older than my father, who had known him in times long past. When +they had last met, the Squire of Chantry House was a married man, with +more than one child; my father a young barrister; and as one lived entirely +in the country and the other in town, without any special congeniality, +no intercourse had been kept up, and it was a surprise to hear that +he had left no surviving children. My father greatly doubted whether +being heir-at-law would prove to avail him anything, since it was likely +that so distant a relation would have made a will in favour of some +nearer connection on his wife’s or mother’s side. +He was very vague about Chantry House, only knowing that it was supposed +to be a fair property, and he would hardly consent to take Griffith +with him by the Western Royal Mail, warning him and all the rest of +us that our expectations would be disappointed.</p> +<p>Nevertheless we looked out the gentlemen’s seats in <i>Paterson’s +Road Book</i>, and after much research, for Chantry House lay far off +from the main road, we came upon - ‘Chantry House, Earlscombe, +the seat of James Winslow, Esquire, once a religious foundation; beautifully +situated on a rising ground, commanding an extensive prospect - ’</p> +<p>‘A religious foundation!’ cried Emily. ‘It +will be a dear delicious old abbey, all Gothic architecture, with cloisters +and ruins and ghosts.’</p> +<p>‘Ghosts!’ said my mother severely, ‘what has put +such nonsense into your head?’</p> +<p>Nevertheless Emily made up her mind that Chantry House would be another +Melrose, and went about repeating the moonlight scene in the <i>Lay +of the Last Minstrel</i> whenever she thought no one was there to laugh +at her.</p> +<p>My father and Griffith returned with the good news that there was +no mistake. Chantry House was really his own, with the estate +belonging to it, reckoned at £5000 a year, exclusive of a handsome +provision to Miss Selby, the niece of the late Mrs. Winslow, a spinster +of a certain age, who had lived with her uncle, and now proposed to +remove to Bath. Mr. Winslow had, it appeared, lost his only son +as a schoolboy, and his daughters, like their mother, had been consumptive. +He had always been resolved that the estate should continue in the family; +but reluctance to see any one take his son’s place had withheld +him from making any advances to my father; and for several years past +he had been in broken health with failing faculties.</p> +<p>Of course there was much elation. Griff described as charming +the place, perched on the southern slope of a wooded hill, with a broad +fertile valley lying spread out before it, and the woods behind affording +every promise of sport. The house, my father said, was good, odd +and irregular, built at different times, but quite habitable, and with +plenty of furniture, though he opined that mamma would think it needed +modernising, to which she replied that our present chattels would make +a great difference; whereat my father, looking at the effects of more +than twenty years of London blacks, gave a little whistle, for she was +always the economical one of the pair.</p> +<p>Emily, with glowing cheeks and eager eyes, entreated to know whether +it was Gothic, and had a cloister! Papa nipped her hopes of a +cloister, but there were Gothic windows and doorway, and a bit of ruin +in the garden, a fragment of the old chapel.</p> +<p>My father could not resign his office without notice, and, besides, +he wished Miss Selby to have leisure for leaving her home of many years; +after which there would be a few needful repairs. The delay was +not a great grievance to any of us except little Martyn. We were +much more Cockney than almost any one is in these days of railways. +We were unusually devoid of kindred on both sides, my father’s +holidays were short, I was not a very movable commodity, and economy +forbade long journeys, so that we had never gone farther than Ramsgate, +where we claimed a certain lodging-house as a sort of right every summer.</p> +<p>Real country was as much unknown to us as the backwoods. My +father alone had been born and bred to village life and habits, for +my mother had spent her youth in a succession of seaport towns, frequented +by men-of-war. We heard, too, that Chantry House was very secluded, +with only a few cottages near at hand - a mile and a half from the church +and village of Earlscombe, three from the tiny country town of Wattlesea, +four from the place where the coach passed, connecting it with the civilisation +of Bath and Bristol, from each of which places it was about half a day’s +distance, according to the measures of those times. It was a sort +of banishment to people accustomed to the stream of life in London; +and though the consequence and importance derived from being raised +to the ranks of the Squirearchy were agreeable, they were a dear purchase +at the cost of being out of reach of all our friends and acquaintances, +as well as of other advantages.</p> +<p>To my father, however, the retirement from his many years of drudgery +was really welcome, and he had preserved enough of country tastes to +rejoice that it was, as he said, a clear duty to reside on his estate +and look after his property. My mother saw his relief in the prospect, +and suppressed her sighs at the dislocation of her life-long habits, +and the loss of intercourse with the acquaintance whom separation raised +to the rank of intimate friends, even her misgivings as to butchers, +bakers, and grocers in the wilderness, and still worse, as to doctors +for me.</p> +<p>‘Humph!’ said the Admiral, ‘the boy will be all +the better without them.’</p> +<p>And so I was; I can’t say they were the subject of much regret, +but I was really sorry to leave our big neighbour, the British Museum, +where there were good friends who always made me welcome, and encouraged +me in studies of coins and heraldry, which were great resources to me, +so that I used to spend hours there, and was by no means willing to +resign my ambition of obtaining an appointment there, when I heard my +father say that he was especially thankful for his good fortune because +it enabled him to provide for me. There were lessons, too, from +masters in languages, music, and drawing, which Emily and I shared, +and which she had just begun to value thoroughly. We had filled +whole drawing-books with wriggling twists of foliage in B B B marking +pencil, and had just been promoted to water-colours; and she was beginning +to sing very prettily. I feared, too, that I should no longer +have a chance of rivalling Griffith’s university studies. +All this, with my sister’s girl friends, and those kind people +who used to drop in to play chess, and otherwise amuse me, would all +be left behind; and, sorest of all, Clarence, who, whatever he was in +the eyes of others, had grown to be my mainstay during this last year. +He it was who fetched me from the Museum, took me into the gardens, +helped me up and down stairs, spared no pains to rout out whatever my +fanciful pursuits required from shops in the City, and, in very truth, +spoilt me through all his hours that were free from business, besides +being my most perfect sympathising and understanding companion.</p> +<p>I feared, too, that he would be terribly lonesome, though of late +he had been less haunted by longings for the sea, had made some way +with his fellows, and had been commended by the managing clerk; and +it was painful to find the elders did not grieve on their own account +at parting with him. My mother told the Admiral that she thought +it would be good for Mr. Winslow’s spirits not to be continually +reminded of his trouble; and my father might be heard confiding to Mr. +Castleford that the separation might be good for both her and her son, +if only the lad could be trusted. To which that good man replied +by giving him an excellent character; but was only met by a sigh, and +‘Well, we shall see!’</p> +<p>Clarence was to be lodged with Peter, whose devotion would not extend +to following us into barbarism, where, as he told us, he understood +there was no such thing as a ‘harea,’ and master would have +to kill his own mutton.</p> +<p>Peter had been tranquilly engaged to Gooch for years untold. +They were to be transformed into Mr. and Mrs. Robson, with some small +appointment about the Law Courts for him, and a lodging-house for her, +where Clarence was to abide, my mother feeling secure that neither his +health, his morals, nor his shirts could go much astray without her +receiving warning thereof.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, by the help of an antiquarian friend of my father, Mr. +Stafford, who was great in county history, I hunted up in the Museum +library all I could discover about our new possession.</p> +<p>The Chantry of St. Cecily at Earlscombe, in Somersetshire, had, it +appeared, been founded and endowed by Dame Isabel d’Oyley, in +the year of grace 1434, that constant prayers might be offered for the +souls of her husband and son, slain in the French wars. The poor +lady’s intentions, which to our Protestant minds appeared rather +shocking than otherwise, had been frustrated at the break up of such +establishments, when the Chantry, and the estate that maintained its +clerks and bedesmen, was granted to Sir Harry Power, from whom, through +two heiresses, it had come to the Fordyces, the last of whom, by name +Margaret, had died childless, leaving the estate to her stepson, Philip +Winslow, our ancestor.</p> +<p>Moreover, we learnt that a portion of the building was of ancient +date, and that there was an ‘interesting fragment’ of the +old chapel in the grounds, which our good friend promised himself the +pleasure of investigating on his first holiday.</p> +<p>To add to our newly-acquired sense of consideration and of high pedigree, +the family chariot, after taking Miss Selby to Bath, came up post to +London to be touched up at the coachbuilder’s, have the escutcheon +altered so as to impale the Griffith coat instead of the Selby, and +finally to convey us to our new abode, in preparation for which all +its boxes came to be packed.</p> +<p>A chariot! You young ones have as little notion of one as of +a British war-chariot armed with scythes. Yet people of a certain +grade were as sure to keep their chariot as their silver tea-pot; indeed +we knew one young couple who started in life with no other habitation, +but spent their time as nomads, in visits to their relations and friends, +for visits <i>were</i> visits then.</p> +<p>The capacities of a chariot were considerable. Within, there +was a good-sized seat for the principal occupants, and outside a dickey +behind, and a driving box before, though sometimes there was only one +of these, and that transferable. The boxes were calculated to +hold family luggage on a six months’ tour. There they lay +on the spare-room floor, ready to be packed, the first earnest of our +new possessions - except perhaps the five-pound note my father gave +each of us four elder ones, on the day the balance at the bank was made +over to him. There was the imperial, a grand roomy receptacle, +which was placed on the top of the carriage, and would not always go +upstairs in small houses; the capbox, which fitted into a curved place +in front of the windows, and could not stand alone, but had a frame +to support it; two long narrow boxes with the like infirmity of standing, +which fitted in below; square ones under each seat; and a drop box fastened +on behind. There were pockets beneath each window, and, curious +relic in name and nature of the time when every gentleman carried his +weapon, there was the sword case, an excrescence behind the back of +the best seat, accessible by lifting a cushion, where weapons used to +be carried, but where in our peaceful times travellers bestowed their +luncheon and their books.</p> +<p>Our chariot was black above, canary yellow below, beautifully varnished, +and with our arms blazoned on each door. It was lined with dark +blue leather and cloth, picked out with blue and yellow lace in accordance +with our liveries, and was a gorgeous spectacle. I am afraid Emily +did not share in Mistress Gilpin’s humility when</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p> ‘The chaise was brought,<br /> But +yet was not allowed<br />To drive up to the door, lest all<br /> Should +say that she was proud!’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>It was then that Emily and I each started a diary to record the events +of our new life. Hers flourished by fits and starts; but I having +perforce more leisure than she, mine has gone on with few interruptions +till the present time, and is the backbone of this narrative, which +I compile and condense from it and other sources before destroying it.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII - THE OLD HOUSE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Your history whither are you spinning?<br /> Can +you do nothing but describe?<br />A house there is, and that’s +enough!’</p> +<p>GRAY.</p> +<p>How we did enjoy our journey, when the wrench from our old home was +once made. We did not even leave Clarence behind, for Mr. Castleford +had given him a holiday, so that he might not appear to be kept at a +distance, as if under a cloud, and might help me through our travels.</p> +<p>My mother and I occupied the inside of the carriage, with Emily between +us at the outset; but when we were off the London stones she was often +allowed to make a third on the dickey with Clarence and Martyn, whose +ecstatic heels could be endured for the sake of the free air and the +view. Of course we posted, and where there were severe hills we +indulged in four horses. The varieties of the jackets of our post-boys, +blue or yellow, as supposed to indicate the politics of their inns, +were interesting to us, as everything was interesting then. Otherwise +their equipment was exactly alike - neat drab corduroy breeches and +top-boots, and hats usually white, and they were all boys, though the +red faces and grizzled hair of some looked as if they had faced the +weather for at least fifty years.</p> +<p>It was a beautiful August, and the harvest fields were a sight perfectly +new, filling us with rapture unspeakable. At every hill which +offered an excuse, our outsiders were on their feet, thrusting in their +heads and hands to us within with exclamations of delight, and all sorts +of discoveries - really new to us three younger ones. Ears of +corn, bearded barley, graceful oats, poppies, corn-flowers, were all +delicious novelties to Emily and me, though Griff and my father laughed +at our ecstasies, and my mother occasionally objected to the wonderful +accumulation of curiosities thrust into her lap or the door pockets, +and tried to persuade Martyn that rooks’ wings, dead hedgehogs, +sticks and stones of various merits, might be found at Earlscombe, until +Clarence, by the judicious purchase of a basket at Salisbury, contrived +to satisfy all parties and safely dispose of the treasures. The +objects that stand out in my memory on that journey were Salisbury Spire, +and a long hill where the hedgebank was one mass of the exquisite rose-bay +willow herb - a perfect revelation to our city-bred eyes; but indeed, +the whole route was like one panorama to us of <i>L’Allegro</i> +and other descriptions on which we had fed. For in those days +we were much more devoted to poetry than is the present generation, +which has a good deal of false shame on that head.</p> +<p>Even dining and sleeping at an inn formed a pleasing novelty, though +we did not exactly sympathise with Martyn when he dashed in at breakfast +exulting in having witnessed the killing of a pig. As my father +observed, it was too like realising Peter’s forebodings of our +return to savage life.</p> +<p>Demonstrations were not the fashion of these times, and there was +a good deal of dull discontent and disaffection in the air, so that +no tokens of welcome were prepared for us - not even a peal of bells; +nor indeed should we have heard them if they had been rung, for the +church was a mile and a half beyond the house, with a wood between cutting +off the sound, except in certain winds. We did not miss a reception, +which would rather have embarrassed us. We began to think it was +time to arrive, and my father believed we were climbing the last hill, +when, just as we had passed a remarkably pretty village and church, +Griffith called out to say that we were on our own ground. He +had made his researches with the game keeper while my father was busy +with the solicitor, and could point to our boundary wall, a little below +the top of the hill on the northern side. He informed us that +the place we had passed was Hillside - Fordyce property, - but this +was Earlscombe, our own. It was a great stony bit of pasture with +a few scattered trees, but after the flat summit was past, the southern +side was all beechwood, where a gate admitted us into a drive cut out +in a slant down the otherwise steep descent, and coming out into an +open space. And there we were!</p> +<p>The old house was placed on the widest part of a kind of shelf or +natural terrace, of a sort of amphitheatre shape, with wood on either +hand, but leaving an interval clear in the midst broad enough for house +and gardens, with a gentle green slope behind, and a much steeper one +in front, closed in by the beechwoods. The house stood as it were +sideways, or had been made to do so by later inhabitants. I know +this is very long-winded, but there have been such alterations that +without minute description this narrative will be unintelligible.</p> +<p>The aspect was northwards so far as the lie of the ground was concerned, +but the house stood across. The main body was of the big symmetrical +Louis XIV. style - or, as it is now the fashion to call it, Queen Anne +- brick, with stone quoins, big sash-windows, and a great square hall +in the midst, with the chief rooms opening into it. The principal +entrance had been on the north, with a huge front door and a flight +of stone steps, and just space enough for a gravel coach ring before +the rapid grassy descent. Later constitutions, however, must have +eschewed that northern front door, and later nerves that narrow verge, +and on the eastern front had been added that Gothic porch of which Emily +had heard, - and a flagrantly modern Gothic porch it was, flanked by +two comical little turrets, with loopholes, from which a thread-paper +or Tom Thumb might have defended it. Otherwise it resembled a +church porch, except for the formidable points of a sham portcullis; +but there was no denying that it greatly increased the comfort of the +house, with its two sets of heavy doors, and the seats on either side. +The great hall door had been closed up, plastered over within, and rendered +inoffensive. Towards the west there was another modern addition +of drawing and dining rooms, and handsome bedchambers above, in Gothic +taste, <i>i.e</i>. with pointed arches filled up with glass over the +sash-windows. The drawing-room was very pretty, with a glass door +at the end leading into an old-fashioned greenhouse, and two French +windows to the south opening upon the lawn, which soon began to slope +upwards, curving, as I said, like an amphitheatre, and was always shady +and sheltered, tilting its flower-beds towards the house as if to display +them. The dining-room had, in like manner, one west and two north +windows, the latter commanding a grand view over the green meadow-land +below, dotted with round knolls, and rising into blue hills beyond. +We became proud of counting the villages and church towers we could +see from thence.</p> +<p>There was a still older portion, more ancient than the square <i>corps +de logis</i>, and built of the cream-coloured stone of the country. +It was at the south-eastern angle, where the ground began sloping so +near the house that this wing - if it may so be called - containing +two good-sized rooms nearly on a level with the upper floor, had nothing +below but some open stone vaultings, under which it was only just possible +for my tall brothers to stand upright, at the innermost end. These +opened into the cellars which, no doubt, belonged to the fifteenth-century +structure. There seemed to have once been a door and two or three +steps to the ground, which rose very close to the southern end; but +this had been walled up. The rooms had deep mullioned windows +east and west, and very handsome groined ceilings, and were entered +by two steps down from the gallery round the upper part of the hall. +There was a very handsome double staircase of polished oak, shaped like +a Y, the stem of which began just opposite the original front door - +making us wonder if people knew what draughts were in the days of Queen +Anne, and remember Madame de Maintenon’s complaint that health +was sacrificed to symmetry. Not far from this oldest portion were +some broken bits of wall and stumps of columns, remnants of the chapel, +and prettily wreathed with ivy and clematis. We rejoiced in such +a pretty and distinctive ornament to our garden, and never troubled +ourselves about the desecration; and certainly ours was one of the most +delightful gardens that ever existed, what with green turf, bright flowers, +shapely shrubs, and the grand beech-trees enclosing it with their stately +white pillars, green foliage, and the russet arcades beneath them. +The stillness was wonderful to ears accustomed to the London roar - +almost a new sensation. Emily was found, as she said, ‘listening +to the silence;’ and my father declared that no one could guess +at the sense of rest that it gave him.</p> +<p>Of space within there was plenty, though so much had been sacrificed +to the hall and staircase; and this was apparently the cause of the +modern additions, as the original sitting-rooms, wainscotted and double-doored, +were rather small for family requirements. One of these, once +the dining-room, became my father’s study, where he read and wrote, +saw his tenants, and by and by acted as Justice of the Peace. +The opposite one, towards the garden, was termed the book-room. +Here Martyn was to do his lessons, and Emily and I carry on our studies, +and do what she called keeping up her accomplishments. My couch +and appurtenances abode there, and it was to be my retreat from company, +- or on occasion could be made a supplementary drawing-room, as its +fittings showed it had been the parlour. It communicated with +another chamber, which became my own - sparing the difficulties that +stairs always presented; and beyond lay, niched under the grand staircase, +a tiny light closet, a passage-room, where my mother put a bed for a +man-servant, not liking to leave me entirely alone on the ground floor. +It led to a passage to the garden door, also to my mother’s den, +dedicated to housewifely cares and stores, and ended at the back stairs, +descending to the servants’ region. This was very old, handsomely +vaulted with stone, and, owing to the fall of the ground, had ample +space for light on the north side, - where, beyond the drive, the descent +was so rapid as to afford Martyn infinite delight in rolling down, to +the horror of all beholders and the detriment of his white duck trowsers.</p> +<p>I don’t know much about the upper story, so I spare you that. +Emily had a hankering for one of the pretty old mullioned-windowed rooms +- the mullion chambers, as she named them; but Griff pounced on them +at once, the inner for his repose, the outer for his guns and his studies +- not smoking, for young men were never permitted to smoke within doors, +nor indeed in any home society. The choice of the son and heir +was undisputed, and he proceeded to settle his possessions in his new +domains, where they made an imposing appearance.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER IX - RATS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘As louder and louder, drawing near,<br />The gnawing of their +teeth he could hear.’</p> +<p>SOUTHEY.</p> +<p>‘What a ridiculous old fellow that Chapman is,’ said +Griff, coming in from a conference with the gaunt old man who acted +as keeper to our not very extensive preserves. ‘I told him +to get some gins for the rats in my rooms, and he shook his absurd head +like any mandarin, and said, “There baint no trap as will rid +you of them kind of varmint, sir.”’</p> +<p>‘Of course,’ my father said, ‘rats are part of +the entail of an old house. You may reckon on them.’</p> +<p>‘Those rooms of yours are the very place for them,’ added +my mother. ‘I only hope they will not infest the rest of +the house.’</p> +<p>To which Griff rejoined that they perpetrated the most extraordinary +noises he had ever heard from rats, and told Emily she might be thankful +to him for taking those rooms, for she would have been frightened out +of her little wits. He meant, he said, to get a little terrier, +and have a thorough good rat hunt, at which Martyn capered about in +irrepressible ecstasy.</p> +<p>This, however, was deferred by the unwillingness of old Chapman, +of whom even Griff was somewhat in awe. His fame as a sportsman +had to be made, and he had had only such practice as could be attained +by shooting at a mark ever since he had been aware of his coming greatness. +So he was desirous of conciliating Chapman, and not getting laughed +at as the London young gentleman who could not hit a hay-stack. +My father, who had been used to carrying a gun in his younger days, +was much amused, in his quiet way, at seeing Griff watch Chapman off +on his rounds, and then betake himself to the locality most remote from +the keeper’s ears to practise on the rook or crow. Martyn +always ran after him, having solemnly promised not to touch the gun, +and to keep behind. He was too good-natured to send the little +fellow back, though he often tried to elude the pursuit, not wishing +for a witness to his attempts; and he never invited Clarence, who had +had some experience of curious game but never mentioned it.</p> +<p>Clarence devoted himself to Emily and me, tugging my garden-chair +along all the paths where it would go without too much jolting, and +when I had had enough, exploring those hanging woods, either with her +or on his own account. They used to come home with their hands +full of flowers, and this resulted in a vehement attack of botany, - +a taste that has lasted all our lives, together with the <i>hortus siccus</i> +to which we still make additions, though there has been a revolution +there as well as everywhere else, and the Linnæan system we learnt +so eagerly from Martin’s <i>Letters</i> is altogether exploded +and antiquated. Still, my sister refuses to own the scientific +merits of the natural system, and can point to school-bred and lectured +young ladies who have no notion how to discover the name or nature of +a live plant.</p> +<p>On the Friday after our arrival the noises had been so fearful that +Griff had been exasperated into going off across the hills, accompanied +by his constant shadow, Martyn, in search of the professional ratcatcher +of the neighbourhood, in spite of Chapman’s warning - that Tom +Petty was the biggest rascal in the neighbourhood, and a regular out +and out poacher; and as to the noises - he couldn’t ‘tackle +the like of they.’ After revelling in the beauty of the +beechwoods as long as was good for me or for Clarence, I was left in +the garden to sketch the ruin, while my two companions started on one +of their exploring expeditions.</p> +<p>It was getting late enough to think of going to prepare for the six +o’clock dinner when Emily came forth alone from the path between +the trees, announcing - ‘An adventure, Edward! We have had +such an adventure.’</p> +<p>‘Where’s Clarence?’</p> +<p>‘Gone for the doctor! Oh, no; Griff hasn’t shot +anybody. He is gone for the ratcatcher, you know. It is +a poor little herdboy, who tumbled out of a tree; and oh! such a sweet, +beautiful, young lady - just like a book!’</p> +<p>When Emily became less incoherent, it appeared that on coming out +on the bit of common above the wood, as she and Clarence were halting +on the brow of the hill to admire the view, they heard a call for help, +and hurrying down in the direction whence it proceeded they saw a stunted +ash-tree, beneath which were a young lady and a little child bending +over a village lad who lay beneath moaning piteously. The girl, +whom Emily described as the most beautiful creature she ever saw, explained +that the boy, who had been herding the cattle scattered around, had +been climbing the tree, a limb of which had broken with him. She +had seen the fall from a distance, and hurried up; but she hardly knew +what to do, for her little sister was too young to be sent in quest +of assistance. Clarence thought one leg seriously injured, and +as the young lady seemed to know the boy, offered to carry him home. +School officers were yet in the future; children were set to work almost +as soon as they could walk, and this little fellow was so light and +thin as to shock Clarence when he had been taken up on his back, for +he weighed quite a trifle. The young lady showed the way to a +wretched little cottage, where a bigger girl had just come in with a +sheaf of corn freshly gleaned poised on her head. They sent her +to fetch her mother, and Clarence undertook to go for a doctor, but +to the surprise and horror of Emily, there was a demur. Something +was said of old Molly and her ‘ile’ and ‘yarbs,’ +or perhaps Madam could step round. When Clarence, on this being +translated to him, pronounced the case beyond such treatment, it was +explained outside the door that this was a terribly poor family, and +the doctor would not come to parish patients for an indefinite time +after his summons, besides which, he lived at Wattlesea. ‘Indeed +mamma does almost all the doctoring with her medicine chest,’ +said the girl.</p> +<p>On which Clarence declared that he would let the doctor know that +he himself would be responsible for the cost of the attendance, and +set off for Wattlesea, a kind of town village in the flat below. +He could not get back till dinner was half over, and came in alarmed +and apologetic; but he had nothing worse to encounter than Griff’s +unmerciful banter (or, as you would call it, chaff) about his knight +errantry, and Emily’s lovely heroine in the sweetest of cottage +bonnets.</p> +<p>Griff could be slightly tyrannous in his merry mockery, and when +he found that on the ensuing day Clarence proposed to go and inquire +after the patient, he made such wicked fun of the expectations the pair +entertained of hearing the sweet cottage bonnet reading a tract in a +silvery voice through the hovel window, that he fairly teased and shamed +Clarence out of starting till the renowned Tom Petty arrived and absorbed +all the three brothers, and even their father, in delights as mysterious +to me as to Emily. How she shrieked when Martyn rushed triumphantly +into the room where we were arranging books with the huge patriarch +of all the rats dangling by his tail! Three hopeful families were +destroyed; rooms, vaults, and cellars examined and cleared; and Petty +declared the race to be exterminated, picturesque ruffian that he was, +in his shapeless hat, rusty velveteen, long leggings, a live ferret +in his pocket, and festoons of dead rats over his shoulder.</p> +<p>Chapman, who regarded him much as the ferret did the rat, declared +that the rabbits and hares would suffer from letting ‘that there +chap’ show his face here on any plea; and, moreover, gave a grunt +very like a scoff; at the idea of slumbers in the mullion rooms (as +they were called) being secured by his good offices.</p> +<p>And Chapman was right. The unaccountable noises broke out again +- screaming, wailing, sobbing - sounds scarcely within the power of +cat or rat, but possibly the effect of the wind in the old building. +At any rate, Griff could not stand them, and declared that sleep was +impossible when the wind was in that quarter, so that he must shift +his bedroom elsewhere, though he still wished to retain the outer apartment, +which he had taken pleasure in adorning with his special possessions. +My mother would scarcely have tolerated such fancies in any one else, +but Griff had his privileges.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER X - OUR TUNEFUL CHOIR</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘The church has been whitewashed, but right long ago,<br />As +the cracks and the dinginess amply doth show;<br />About the same time +that a strange petrifaction<br />Confined the incumbent to mere Sunday +action.<br />So many abuses in this place are rife,<br />The only church +things giving token of life<br />Are the singing within and the nettles +without -<br />Both equally rampant without any doubt.’</p> +<p>F. R. HAVERGAL.</p> +<p>All Griff’s teasing could not diminish - nay, rather increased +- Emily’s excitement in the hope of seeing and identifying the +sweet cottage bonnet at church on Sunday. The distance we had +to go was nearly two miles, and my mother and I drove thither in a donkey +chair, which had been hunted up in London for that purpose because the +‘pheeaton’ (as the servants insisted on calling it) was +too high for me. My father had an old-fashioned feeling about +the Fourth Commandment, which made him scrupulous as to using any animal +on Sunday; and even when, in bad weather, or for visitors, the larger +carriage was used, he always walked. He was really angry with +Griff that morning for mischievously maintaining that it was a greater +breach of the commandment to work an ass than a horse.</p> +<p>It was a pretty drive on a road slanting gradually through the brushwood +that clothed the steep face of the hillside, and passing farms and meadows +full of cattle - all things quieter and stiller than ever in their Sunday +repose. We knew that the living was in Winslow patronage, but +that it was in the hands of one of the Selby connection, who held it, +together with it is not safe to say how many benefices, and found it +necessary for his health to reside at Bath. The vicarage had long +since been turned into a farmhouse, and the curate lived at Wattlesea. +All this we knew, but we had not realised that he was likewise assistant +curate there, and only favoured Earlscombe with alternate morning and +evening services on Sundays.</p> +<p>Still less were we prepared for the interior of the church. +It had a picturesque square tower covered with ivy, and a general air +of fitness for a sketch; indeed, the photograph of it in its present +beautified state will not stand a comparison with our drawings of it, +in those days of dilapidation in the middle of the untidy churchyard, +with little boys astride on the sloping, sunken lichen-grown headstones, +mullein spikes and burdock leaves, more graceful than the trim borders +and zinc crosses which are pleasanter to the mental eye.</p> +<p>The London church we had left would be a fearful shock to the present +generation, but we were accustomed to decency, order, and reverence; +and it was no wonder that my father was walking about the churchyard, +muttering that he never saw such a place, while my brothers were full +of amusement. Their spruce looks in their tall hats, bright ties, +dark coats, and white trowsers strapped tight under their boots, looked +incongruous with the rest of the congregation, the most distinguished +members of which were farmers in drab coats with huge mother-of-pearl +buttons, and long gaiters buttoned up to their knees and strapped up +to their gay waistcoats over their white corduroys. Their wives +and daughters were in enormous bonnets, fluttering with ribbons; but +then what my mother and Emily wore were no trifles. The rest of +the congregation were - the male part of it - in white or gray smock-frocks, +the elderly women in black bonnets, the younger in straw; but we had +not long to make our observations, for Chapman took possession of us. +He was parish clerk, and was in great glory in his mourning coat and +hat, and his object was to marshal us all into our pew before he had +to attend upon the clergyman; and of course I was glad enough to get +as soon as possible out of sight of all the eyes not yet accustomed +to my figure.</p> +<p>And hidden enough I was when we had been introduced through the little +north chancel door into a black-curtained, black-cushioned, black-lined +pew, well carpeted, with a table in the midst, and a stove, whose pipe +made its exit through the floriated tracery of the window overhead. +The chancel arch was to the west of us, blocked up by a wooden parcel-gilt +erection, and to the east a decorated window that would have been very +handsome if two side-lights had not been obscured by the two Tables +of the Law, with the royal arms on the top of the first table, and over +the other our own, with the Fordyce in a scutcheon of pretence; for, +as an inscription recorded, they had been erected by Margaret, daughter +of Christopher Fordyce, Esquire, of Chantry House, and relict of Sir +James John Winslow, Kt., sergeant-at-law, A.D. 1700 - the last date, +I verily believe, at which anything had been done to the church. +And on the wall, stopping up the southern chancel window, was a huge +marble slab, supported by angels blowing trumpets, with a very long +inscription about the Fordyce family, ending with this same Margaret, +who had married the Winslow, lost two or three infants, and died on +1st January 1708, three years later than her husband.</p> +<p>Thus far I could see; but Griff was standing lifting the curtain, +and showing by the working of his shoulders his amazement and diversion, +so that only the daggers in my mother’s eyes kept Martyn from +springing up after him. What he beheld was an altar draped in +black like a coffin, and on the step up to the rail, boys and girls +eating apples and performing antics to beguile the waiting time, while +a row of white-smocked old men occupied the bench opposite to our seat, +conversing loud enough for us to hear them.</p> +<p>My father and Clarence came in; the bells stopped; there was a sound +of steps, and in the fabric in front of us there emerged a grizzled +head and the back of a very dirty surplice besprinkled with iron moulds, +while Chapman’s back appeared above our curtain, his desk (full +of dilapidated prayer-books) being wedged in between us and the reading-desk.</p> +<p>The duet that then took place between him and the curate must have +been heard to be credible, especially as, being so close behind the +old man, we could not fail to be aware of all the remarkable shots at +long words which he bawled out at the top of his voice, and I refrain +from recording, lest they should haunt others as they have done by me +all my life. Now and then Chapman caught up a long switch and +dashed out at some obstreperous child to give an audible whack; and +towards the close of the litany he stumped out - we heard his tramp +the whole length of the church, and by and by his voice issued from +an unknown height, proclaiming - ‘Let us sing to the praise and +glory in an anthem taken from the 42d chapter of Genesis.’</p> +<p>There was an outburst of bassoon, clarionet, and fiddle, and the +performance that followed was the most marvellous we had ever heard, +especially when the big butcher - fiddling all the time - declared in +a mighty solo, ‘I am Jo - Jo - Jo - Joseph!’ and having +reiterated this information four or five times, inquired with equal +pertinacity, ‘Doth - doth my fa-a-u-ther yet live?’ +Poor Emily was fairly ‘convulsed;’ she stuffed her handkerchief +into her mouth, and grew so crimson that my mother was quite frightened, +and very near putting her out at the little door of excommunication. +To our last hour we shall never forget the shock of that first anthem.</p> +<p>The Commandments were read from the desk, Chapman’s solitary +response coming from the gallery; and while the second singing - four +verses from Tate and Brady - was going on, we beheld the surplice stripped +off, - like the slough of a May-fly, as Griff said, - when a rusty black +gown was revealed, in which the curate ascended the pulpit and was lost +to our view before the concluding verse of the psalm, which we had reason +to believe was selected in compliment to us, as well as to Earlscombe, +-</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘My lot is fall’n in that blest land<br /> Where +God is truly know,<br />He fills my cup with liberal hand;<br /> ’Tis +He - ’tis He - ’tis He - supports my throne.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>We had great reason to doubt how far the second line could justly +be applied to the parish! but there was no judging of the sermon, for +only detached sentences reached us in a sort of mumble. Griff +afterwards declared churchgoing to be as good as a comedy, and we all +had to learn to avoid meeting each other’s eyes, whatever we might +hear. When the scuffle and tramp of the departing congregation +had ceased, we came forth from our sable box, and beheld the remnants +of a once handsome church, mauled in every possible way, green stains +on the walls, windows bricked up, and a huge singing gallery. +Good bits of carved stall work were nailed anyhow into the pews; the +floor was uneven; no font was visible; there was a mouldy uncared-for +look about everything. The curate in riding-boots came out of +the vestry, - a pale, weary-looking man, painfully meek and civil, with +gray hair sleeked round his face. He ‘louted low,’ +and seemed hardly to venture on taking the hand my father held out to +him. There was some attempt to enter into conversation with him, +but he begged to be excused, for he had to hurry back to Wattlesea to +a funeral. Poor man! he was as great a pluralist as his vicar, +for he kept a boys’ school, partially day, partially boarding, +and his eyes looked hungrily at Martyn.</p> +<p>If the ‘sweet cottage bonnet’ had been at church there +would have been little chance of discovering her, but we found that +we were the only ‘quality,’ as Chapman called it, or things +might not have been so bad. Old James Winslow had been a mere +fox-hunting squire till he became a valetudinarian; nor had he ever +cared for the church or for the poor, so that the village was in a frightful +state of neglect. There was a dissenting chapel, old enough to +be overgrown with ivy and not too hideous, erected by the Nonconformists +in the reign of the Great Deliverer, but this partook of the general +decadence of the parish, and, as we found, the chapel’s principal +use was to serve as an excuse for not going to church.</p> +<p>My father always went to church twice, so he and Clarence walked +to Wattlesea, where appearances were more respectable; but they heard +the same sermon over again, and, as my father drily remarked, it was +not a composition that would bear repetition.</p> +<p>He was much distressed at the state of things, and intended to write +to the incumbent, though, as he said, whatever was done would end by +being at his own expense, and the move and other calls left him so little +in hand that he sighed over the difficulties, and declared that he was +better off in London, except for the honour of the thing. Perhaps +my mother was of the same opinion after a dreary afternoon, when Griff +and Martyn had been wandering about aimlessly, and were at length betrayed +by the barking of a little terrier, purchased the day before from Tom +Petty, besieging the stable cat, who stood with swollen tail, glaring +eyes, and thunderous growls, on the top of the tallest pillar of the +ruins. Emily nearly cried at their cruelty. Martyn was called +off by my mother, and set down, half sulky, half ashamed, to <i>Henry +and his Bearer</i>; and Griff, vowing that he believed it was that brute +who made the row at night, and that she ought to be exterminated, strolled +off to converse with Chapman, who was a quaint compound of clerk and +keeper - in the one capacity upholding his late master, in the other +bemoaning Mr. Mears’ unpunctualities, specially as regarded weddings +and funerals; one ‘corp’ having been kept waiting till a +messenger had been sent to Wattlesea, who finding both clergy out for +the day, had had to go to Hillside, ‘where they was always ready, +though the old Squire would have been mad with him if he’d a-guessed +one of they Fordys had ever set foot in the parish.’</p> +<p>The only school in the place was close to the meeting-house, ‘a +very dame’s school indeed,’ as Emily described it after +a peep on Monday. Dame Dearlove, the old woman who presided, was +a picture of Shenstone’s schoolmistress, - black bonnet, horn +spectacles, fearful birch rod, three-cornered buff ’kerchief, +checked apron and all, but on meddling with her, she proved a very dragon, +the antipodes of her name. Tattered copies of the <i>Universal +Spelling-Book</i> served her aristocracy, ragged Testaments the general +herd, whence all appeared to be shouting aloud at once. She looked +sour as verjuice when my mother and Emily entered, and gave them to +understand that ‘she wasn’t used to no strangers in her +school, and didn’t want ’em.’ We found that +in Chapman’s opinion she ‘didn’t larn ’em nothing.’ +She had succeeded her aunt, who had taught him to read ‘right +off,’ but ‘her baint to be compared with she.’ +And now the farmers’ children, and the little aristocracy, including +his own grand-children, - all indeed who, in his phrase, ‘cared +for eddication,’ - went to Wattlesea.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XI - ‘THEY FORDYS.’</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Of honourable reckoning are you both,<br />And pity ’tis, +you lived at odds so long.’</p> +<p>SHAKESPEARE.</p> +<p>My father had a good deal of business in hand, and was glad of Clarence’s +help in writing and accounts, - a great pleasure, though it prevented +his being Griff’s companion in his exploring and essays at shooting. +He had time, however, to make an expedition with me in the donkey chair +to inquire after the herdboy, Amos Bell, and carry him some kitchen +physic. To our horror we found him quite alone in the wretched +cottage, while everybody was out harvesting; but he did not seem to +pity himself, or think it otherwise than quite natural, as he lay on +a little bed in the corner, disabled by what Clarence thought a dislocation. +Miss Ellen had brought him a pudding, and little Miss Anne a picture-book.</p> +<p>He was not so dense and shy as the children of the hamlet near us, +and Emily extracted from him that Miss Ellen was ‘Our passon’s +young lady.’</p> +<p>‘Mr. Mears’!’ she exclaimed.</p> +<p>‘No: ourn be Passon Fordy.’</p> +<p>It turned out that this place was not in Earlscombe at all, but in +Hillside, a different parish; and the boy, Amos, further communicated +that there was old Passon Fordy, and Passon Frank, and Madam, what was +Mr. Frank’s lady. Yes, he could read, he could; he went +to Sunday School, and was in Miss Ellen’s class; he had been to +school worky days, only father was dead, and Farmer Hartop gave him +a job.</p> +<p>It was plain that Hillside was under a very different rule from Earlscombe; +and Emily was delighted to have discovered that the sweet cottage bonnet’s +owner was called Ellen, which just then was the pet Christian name of +romance, in honour of the <i>Lady of the Lake.</i></p> +<p>In the midst of her raptures, however, just as we were about to turn +in at our own gate into the wood, we heard horses’ hoofs, and +then came, careering by on ponies, a very pretty girl and a youth of +about the same age. Clarence’s hand rose to his hat, and +he made his eager bow; but the young lady did not vouchsafe the slightest +acknowledgment, turned her head away, and urged her pony to speed.</p> +<p>Emily broke out with an angry disappointed exclamation. Clarence’s +face was scarlet, and he said low and hoarsely, ‘That’s +Lester. He was in the <i>Argus</i> at Portsmouth two years ago;’ +- and then, as our little sister continued her indignant exclamations, +he added, ‘Hush! Don’t on any account say a word about +it. I had better get back to my work. I am only doing you +harm by staying here.’</p> +<p>At which Emily shed tears, and together we persuaded him not to curtail +his holiday, which, indeed, he could not have done without assigning +the reason to the elders, and this was out of the question. Nor +did he venture to hang back when, as our service was to be on Sunday +afternoon, my father proposed to walk to Hillside Church in the morning. +They came back well pleased. There was care and decency throughout. +The psalms were sung to a ‘grinder organ’ - which was an +advanced state of things in those days - and very nicely. Parson +Frank read well and impressively, and the old parson, a fine venerable +man, had preached an excellent sermon - really admirable, as my father +repeated. Our party had been scarcely in time, and had been disposed +of in seats close to the door, where Clarence was quite out of sight +of the disdainful young lady and her squire, of whom Emily begged to +hear no more.</p> +<p>She looked askance at the cards left on the hall table the next day +- ‘The Rev. Christopher Fordyce,’ and ‘The Rev. F. +C. Fordyce,’ also ‘Mrs. F. C. Fordyce, Hillside Rectory.’</p> +<p>We had found out that Hillside was a family living, and that there +was much activity there on the part of the father and son - rector and +curate; and that the other clerical folk, ladies especially, who called +on us, spoke of Mrs. F. C. Fordyce with a certain tone, as if they were +afraid of her, as Sir Horace Lester’s sister, - very superior, +very active, very strict in her notions, - as if these were so many +defects. They were an offshoot of the old Fordyces of Chantry +House, but so far back that all recollection of kindred or connection +must have worn out. Their property - all in beautiful order - +marched with ours, and Chapman was very particular about the boundaries. +‘Old master he wouldn’t have a bird picked up if it fell +over on they Fordys’ ground - not he! He couldn’t +abide passons, couldn’t the old Squire - not Miss Hannah More, +and all they Cheddar lot, and they Fordys least of all. My son’s +wife, she was for sending her little maid to Hillside to Madam Fordys’ +school, but, bless your heart, ’twould have been as much as my +place was worth if master had known it.’</p> +<p>The visit was not returned till after Clarence had gone back to his +London work. Sore as was the loss of him from my daily life, I +could see that the new world and fresh acquaintances were a trial to +him, and especially since the encounter with young Lester had driven +him back into his shell, so that he would be better where he was already +known and had nothing new to overcome. Emily, though not yet sixteen, +was emancipated from schoolroom habits, and the dear girl was my devoted +slave to an extent that perhaps I abused.</p> +<p>Not being ‘come out,’ she was left at home on the day +when we set out on a regular progress in the chariot with post-horses. +The britshka and pair, which were our ambition, were to wait till my +father’s next rents came in. Morning calls in the country +were a solemn and imposing ceremony, and the head of the family had +to be taken on the first circuit; nor was there much scruple as to making +them in the forenoon, so several were to be disposed of before fulfilling +an engagement to luncheon at the farthest point, where some old London +friends had borrowed a house for the summer, and had included me in +their invitation.</p> +<p>Here alone did I leave the carriage, but I had Cooper’s <i>Spy</i> +and my sketch-book as companions while waiting at doors where the inhabitants +were at home. The last visit was at Hillside Rectory, a house +of architecture somewhat similar to our own, but of the soft creamy +stone which so well set off the vine with purple clusters, the myrtles +and fuchsias, that covered it. I was wishing we had drawn up far +enough off for a sketch to be possible, when, from a window close above, +I heard the following words in a clear girlish voice -</p> +<p>‘No, indeed! I’m not going down. It is only +those horrid Earlscombe people. I can’t think how they have +the face to come near us!’</p> +<p>There was a reply, perhaps that the parents had made the first visit, +for the rejoinder was - ‘Yes; grandpapa said it was a Christian +duty to make an advance; but they need not have come so soon. +Indeed, I wonder they show themselves at all. I am sure I would +not if I had such a dreadful son.’ Presently, ‘I hate +to think of it. That I should have thanked him. Depend upon +it, he will never pay the doctor. A coward like that is capable +of anything.’</p> +<p>The proverb had been realised, but there could hardly have been a +more involuntary or helpless listener. Presently my parents came +back, escorted by both the gentlemen of the house, tall fine-looking +men, the elder with snowy hair, and the dignity of men of the old school; +the younger with a joyous, hearty, out-of-door countenance, more like +a squire than a clergyman.</p> +<p>The visit seemed to have been gratifying. Mrs. Fordyce was +declared to be of higher stamp than most of the neighbouring ladies; +and my father was much pleased with the two clergymen, while as we drove +along he kept on admiring the well-ordered fields and fences, and contrasting +the pretty cottages and trim gardens with the dreary appearance of our +own village. I asked why Amos Bell’s home had been neglected, +and was answered with some annoyance, as I pointed down the lane, that +it was on our land, though in Hillside parish. ‘I am glad +to have such neighbours!’ observed my mother, and I kept to myself +the remarks I had heard, though I was still tingling with the sting +of them.</p> +<p>We heard no more of ‘they Fordys’ for some time. +The married pair went away to stay with friends, and we only once met +the old gentleman, when I was waiting in the street at Wattlesea in +the donkey chair, while my mother was trying to match netting silk in +the odd little shop that united fancy work, toys, and tracts with the +post office. Old Mr. Fordyce met us as we drew up, handed her +out with a grand seigneur’s courtesy, and stood talking to me +so delightfully that I quite forgot it was from Christian duty.</p> +<p>My father corresponded with the old Rector about the state of the +parish, and at last went over to Bath for a personal conference, but +without much satisfaction. The Earlscombe people were pronounced +to be an ungrateful good-for-nothing set, for whom it was of no use +to do anything; and indeed my mother made such discoveries in the cottages +that she durst not let Emily fulfil her cherished scheme of visiting +them. The only resemblance to the favourite heroines of religious +tales that could be permitted was assembling a tiny Sunday class in +Chapman’s lodge; and it must be confessed that her brothers thought +she made as much fuss about it as if there had been a hundred scholars.</p> +<p>However, between remonstrances and offers of undertaking a share +of the expense, my father managed to get Mr. Mears’ services dispensed +with from the ensuing Lady Day, and that a resident curate should be +appointed, the choice of whom was to rest with himself. It was +then and there decided that Martyn should be ‘brought up to the +Church,’ as people then used to term destination to Holy Orders. +My father said he should feel justified in building a good house when +he could afford it, if it was to be a provision for one of his sons, +and he also felt that as he had the charge of the parish as patron, +it was right and fitting to train one of his sons up to take care of +it. Nor did Martyn show any distaste to the idea, as indeed there +was less in it then than at present to daunt the imagination of an honest, +lively boy, not as yet specially thoughtful or devout, but obedient, +truthful, and fairly reverent, and ready to grow as he was trained.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XII - MRS. SOPHIA’S FEUD</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘O’er all there hung the shadow of a fear,<br /> A +sense of mystery the spirit daunted,<br />And said as plain as whisper +in the ear,<br /> The place is haunted.’</p> +<p>HOOD.</p> +<p>We had a houseful at Christmas. The Rev. Charles Henderson, +a Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford, lately ordained a deacon, had been +recommended to us by our London vicar, and was willing not only to take +charge of the parish, but to direct my studies, and to prepare Martyn +for school. He came to us for the Christmas vacation to reconnoitre +and engage lodgings at a farmhouse. We liked him very much - my +mother being all the better satisfied after he had shown her a miniature, +and confided to her that the original was waiting till a college living +should come to him in the distant future.</p> +<p>Admiral Griffith could not tear himself from his warm rooms and his +club, but our antiquarian friend, Mr. Stafford, came with his wife, +and revelled in the ceilings of the mullion room, where he would much +have liked to sleep, but that its accommodations were only fit for a +bachelor.</p> +<p>Our other visitor was Miss Selby, or rather Mrs. Sophia Selby, as +she designated herself, according to the becoming fashion of elderly +spinsters, which to my mind might be gracefully resumed. It irked +my father to think of the good lady’s solitary Christmas at Bath, +and he asked her to come to us. She travelled half-way in a post-chaise, +and then was met by the carriage. A very nice old lady she was, +with a meek, delicate babyish face, which could not be spoilt by the +cap of the period, one of the most disfiguring articles of head gear +ever devised, though nobody thought so then. She was full of kindness; +indeed, if she had a fault it was the abundant pity she lavished on +me, and her determination to amuse me. The weather was of the +kind that only the healthy and hardy could encounter, and when every +one else was gone out, and I was just settling in with a new book, or +an old crabbed Latin document, that Mr. Stafford had entrusted to me +to copy out fairly and translate, she would glide in with her worsted +work on a charitable mission to enliven poor Mr. Edward.</p> +<p>However, this was the means of my obtaining some curious enlightenments. +A dinner-party was in contemplation, and she was dismayed at the choice +of the fashionable London hour of seven, and still more by finding that +the Fordyces were to be among the guests. She was too well-bred +to manifest her feelings to her hosts, but alone with me, she could +not refrain from expressing her astonishment to me, all the more when +she heard this was reciprocity for an invitation that it had not been +possible to accept. Her poor dear uncle would never hear of intercourse +with Hillside. On being asked why, she repeated what Chapman had +said, that he could not endure any one connected with Mrs. Hannah More +and her canting, humbugging set, as the ungodly old man had chosen to +call them, imbuing even this good woman with evil prejudices against +their noble work at Cheddar.</p> +<p>‘Besides this, Fordyces and Winslows could never be friends, +since the Fordyces had taken on themselves to dispute the will, and +say it had been improperly obtained.’</p> +<p>‘What will?’</p> +<p>‘Mrs. Winslow’s - Margaret Fordyce that was. She +was the heiress, and had every right to dispose of her property.’</p> +<p>‘But that was more than a hundred years ago!’</p> +<p>‘So it was, my dear; but though the law gave it to us - to +my uncle’s grandfather (or great-grandfather, was it?) - those +Fordyces never could rest content. Why, one of them - a clergyman’s +son too - shot young Philip Winslow dead in a duel. They have +always grudged at us. Does your papa know it, my dear Mr. Edward? +He ought to be aware.’</p> +<p>‘I do not know,’ I said; ‘but he would hardly care +about what happened in the time of Queen Anne.’</p> +<p>It was curious to see how the gentle little lady espoused the family +quarrel, which, after all, was none of hers.</p> +<p>‘Well, you are London people, and the other branch, and may +not feel as we do down here; but I shall always say that Madam Winslow’s +husband’s son had every right to come before her cousin once removed.’</p> +<p>I asked if we were descended from her, for, having a turn for heraldry +and genealogy, I wanted to make out our family tree. Mrs. Sophia +was ready to hold up her hands at the ignorance of the ‘other +branch.’ This poor heiress had lost all her children in +their infancy, and bequeathed the estate to her stepson, the Fordyce +male heir having been endowed by her father with the advowson of Hillside +and a handsome estate there, which Mrs. Selby thought ought to have +contented him, ‘but some people never know when they have enough;’ +and, on my observing that it might have been a matter of justice, she +waxed hotter, declaring that what the Winslows felt so much was the +accusation of violence against the poor lady. She spoke as if +it were a story of yesterday, and added, ‘Indeed, they made the +common people have all sorts of superstitious fancies about the room +where she died - that old part of the house.’ Then she added +in a low mysterious voice, ‘I hear that your brother Mr. Griffith +Winslow could not sleep there;’ and when the rats and the wind +were mentioned - ‘Yes, that was what my poor dear uncle used to +say. He always called it nonsense; but we never had a servant +who would sleep there. You’ll not mention it, Mr. Edward, +but I could not help asking that very nice housemaid, Jane, whether +the room was used, and she said how Mr. Griffith had given it up, and +none of the servants could spend a night there when they are sleeping +round. Of course I said all in my power to dispel the idea, and +told her that there was no accounting for all the noises in old houses; +but you never can reason with that class of people.’</p> +<p>‘Did you ever hear the noises, Mrs. Selby?’</p> +<p>‘Oh, no; I wouldn’t sleep there for thousands! +Not that I attach any importance to such folly, - my poor dear uncle +would never hear of such a thing; but I am such a nervous creature, +I should lie awake all night expecting the rats to run over me. +I never knew of any one sleeping there, except in the gay times when +I was a child, and the house used to be as full as, or fuller than, +it could hold, for the hunt breakfast or a ball, and my poor aunt used +to make up ever so many beds in the two rooms, and then we never heard +of any disturbance, except what they made themselves.’</p> +<p>This chiefly concerned me, because home cosseting had made me old +woman enough to be uneasy about unaired beds; and I knew that my mother +meant to consign Clarence to the mullion chamber. So, without +betraying Jane, I spoke to her, and was answered, ‘Oh, sir, I’ll +take care of that; I’ll light a fire and air the mattresses well. +I wish that was all, poor young gentleman!’</p> +<p>To the reply that the rats were slaughtered and the wind stopped +out, Jane returned a look of compassion; but the subject was dropped, +as it was supposed to be the right thing to hush up, instead of fostering, +any popular superstition; but it surprised me that, as all our servants +were fresh importations, they should so soon have become imbued with +these undefined alarms.</p> +<p>My father was much amused at being successor to this family feud, +and said that when he had time he would look up the documents.</p> +<p>Mrs. Sophia was a sight when Mr. Fordyce and his son and daughter-in-law +were announced; she was so comically stiff between her deference to +her hosts and her allegiance to her poor dear uncle; but her coldness +melted before the charms of old Mr. Fordyce, who was one of the most +delightful people in the world. She even was his partner at whist, +and won the game, and that she <i>did</i> like.</p> +<p>Parson Frank, as we naughty young ones called him, was all good-nature +and geniality - a thorough clergyman after the ideas of the time, and +a thorough farmer too; and in each capacity, as well as in politics, +he suited my father or Mr. Henderson. His lady, in a blonde cap, +exactly like the last equipment my mother had provided herself with +in London, and a black satin dress, had much more style than the more +gaily-dressed country dames, and far more conversation. Mr. Stafford, +who had dreaded the party, pronounced her a sensible, agreeable woman, +and she was particularly kind and pleasant to me, coming and talking +over the botany of the country, and then speaking of my brother’s +kindness to poor Amos Bell, who was nearly recovered, but was a weakly +child, for whom she dreaded the toil of a ploughboy in thick clay with +heavy shoes.</p> +<p>I was sorry when, after Emily’s well-studied performance on +the piano, Mrs. Fordyce was summoned away from me to sing, but her music +and her voice were both of a very different order from ordinary drawing-room +music; and when our evening was over, we congratulated ourselves upon +our neighbours, and agreed that the Fordyces were the gems of the party.</p> +<p>Only Mrs. Sophia sighed at us as degenerate Winslows, and Emily reserved +to herself the right of believing that the daughter was ‘a horrid +girl.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII - A SCRAPE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Though bound with weakness’ heavy chain<br />We in the +dust of earth remain;<br />Not all remorseful be our tears,<br />No +agony of shame or fears,<br />Need pierce its passion’s bitter +tide.’</p> +<p><i>Verses and Sonnets.</i></p> +<p>Perhaps it was of set purpose that our dinner. party had been given +before Clarence’s return. Griffith had been expected in +time for it, but he had preferred going by way of London to attend a +ball given by the daughter of a barrister friend of my father’s. +Selina Clarkson was a fine showy girl, with the sort of beauty to inspire +boyish admiration, and Griff’s had been a standing family joke, +even my father condescending to tease him when the young lady married +Sir Henry Peacock, a fat vulgar old man who had made his fortune in +the commissariat, and purchased a baronetcy. He was allowing his +young wife her full swing of fashion and enjoyment. My mother +did not think it a desirable acquaintance, and was restless until both +the brothers came home together, long after dark on Christmas Eve, having +been met by the gig at the corner where the coach stopped. The +dinner-hour had been put off till half-past six, and we had to wait +for them, the coach having been delayed by setting down Christmas guests +and Christmas fare. They were a contrast; Griffith looking very +handsome and manly, all in a ruddy glow from the frosty air, and Clarence, +though equally tall, well-made, and with more refined features, looked +pale and effaced, now that his sailor tan was worn off. The one +talked as eagerly as he ate, the other was shy, spiritless, and with +little appetite; but as he always shrank into himself among strangers, +it was the less wonder that he sat in his drooping way behind my sofa, +while Griffith kept us all merry with his account of the humours of +the ‘Peacock at home;’ the lumbering efforts of old Sir +Henry to be as young and gay as his wife, in spite of gout and portliness; +and the extreme delight of his lady in her new splendours - a gold spotted +muslin and white plumes in a diamond agraffe. He mimicked Sir +Henry’s cockneyisms more than my father’s chivalry approved +towards his recent host, as he described the complaints he had heard +against ‘my Lady being refused the hentry at Halmack’s, +but treated like the wery canal;’ and how the devoted husband +‘wowed he would get up a still more hexclusive circle, and shut +hout these himpertinent fashionables who regarded Halmack’s as +the seventh ’eaven.’</p> +<p>My mother shook her head at his audacious fun about Paradise and +the Peri, but he was so brilliant and good-humoured that no one was +ever long displeased with him. At night he followed when Clarence +helped me to my room, and carefully shutting the door, Griff began. +‘Now, Teddy, you’re always as rich as a Jew, and I told +Bill you’d help him to set it straight. I’d do it +myself, but that I’m cleaned out. I’d give ten times +the cash rather than see him with that hang-dog look again for just +nothing at all, if he would only believe so and be rational.’</p> +<p>Clarence did look indescribably miserable while it was explained +that he had been commissioned to receive about £20 which was owing +to my father, and to discharge therewith some small debts to London +tradesmen. All except the last, for a little more than four pounds, +had been paid, when Clarence met in the street an old messmate, a good-natured +rattle-pated youth, - one of those who had thought him harshly treated. +There was a cordial greeting, and an invitation to dine at once at a +hotel, where they were joined by some other young men, and by and by +betook themselves to cards, when my poor brother’s besetting enemy +prevented him from withdrawing when he found the points were guineas. +Thus he lost the remaining amount in his charge, and so much of his +own that barely enough was left for his journey. His salary was +not due till Lady Day; Mr. Castleford was in the country, and no advances +could be asked from Mr. Frith. Thus Griff had found him in utter +despair, and had ever since been trying to cheer him and make light +of his trouble. If I advanced the amount, which was no serious +matter to me, Clarence could easily get Peter to pay the bill, and if +my father should demand the receipt too soon, it would be easy to put +him off by saying there had been a delay in getting the account sent +in.</p> +<p>‘I couldn’t do that,’ said Clarence.</p> +<p>‘Well, I should not have thought you would have stuck at that,’ +returned Griff.</p> +<p>‘There must be no untruth,’ I broke in; ‘but if +without <i>that</i>, he can avoid getting into a scrape with papa - +’</p> +<p>Clarence interrupted in the wavering voice we knew so well, but growing +clearer and stronger.</p> +<p>‘Thank you, Edward, but - but - no, I can’t. There’s +the Sacrament to-morrow.’</p> +<p>‘Oh - h!’ said Griff, in an indescribable tone. +But he will never believe you, nor let you go.’</p> +<p>‘Better so,’ said Clarence, half choked, ‘than +go profanely - deceiving - or not knowing whether I shall - ’</p> +<p>Just then we heard our father wishing the other gentlemen good-night, +and to our surprise Clarence opened the door, though he was deadly white +and with dew starting on his forehead.</p> +<p>My father turned good-naturedly. ‘Boys, boys, you are +glad to be together, but mamma won’t have you talking here all +night, keeping her baby up.’</p> +<p>‘Sir,’ said Clarence, holding by the rail of the bed, +‘I was waiting for you. I have something to tell you - ’</p> +<p>The words that followed were incoherent and wrong end foremost; nor +had many, indeed, been uttered before my father cut them short with +-</p> +<p>‘No false excuses, sir; I know you too well to listen. +Go. I have ceased to hope for anything better.’</p> +<p>Clarence went without a word, but Griff and I burst out with entreaties +to be listened to. Our father thought at first that ours were +only the pleadings of partiality, and endeavours to shield the brother +we both so heartily loved; but when he understood the circumstances, +the real amount of the transgression, and Clarence’s rejection +of our united advice and assistance to conceal it, he was greatly touched +and softened. ‘Poor lad! poor fellow!’ he muttered, +‘he is really doing his best. I need not have cut him so +short. I was afraid of more falsehoods if I let him open his mouth. +I’ll go and see.’</p> +<p>He went off, and we remained in suspense, Griff observing that he +had done his best, but poor Bill always would be a fool, and that no +one who had not always lived at home like me would have let out that +we had been for the suppression policy. As I was rather shocked, +he went off to bed, saying he should look in to see what remained of +Clarence after the pelting of the pitiless storm he was sure to bring +on himself by his ridiculous faltering instead of speaking out like +a man.</p> +<p>I longed to have been able to do the same, but my father kindly came +back to relieve my mind by telling me that he was better satisfied about +Clarence than ever he had been before. When encouraged to speak +out, the narrative of the temptation had so entirely agreed with what +we had said as to show there had been no prevarication, and this had +done more to convince my father that he was on the right track than +the having found him on his knees. He had had a patient hearing, +and thus was able to command his nerves enough to explain himself, and +it had ended in my father giving entire forgiveness for what, as Griff +truly said, would have been a mere trifle but for the past. The +voluntary confession had much impressed my father, and he could not +help adding a word of gentle reproof to me for having joined in aiding +him to withhold it, but he accepted my explanation and went away, observing, +‘By the by, I don’t wonder at what Griffith says of that +room; I never heard such strange effects of currents of air.’</p> +<p>Clarence was in my room before I was drest, full of our father’s +‘wonderful goodness’ to him. He had never experienced +anything like it, he said. ‘Why! he really seemed hopeful +about me,’ were words uttered with a gladness enough to go to +one’s heart. ‘O Edward, I feel as if there was some +chance of “steadfastly purposing” this time.’</p> +<p>It was not the way of the family to say much of religious feeling, +and this was much for Clarence to utter. He looked white and tired, +but there was an air of rest and peace about him, above all when my +mother met him with a very real kiss. Moreover, Mr. Castleford +had taken care to brighten our Christmas with a letter expressive of +great satisfaction with Clarence for steadiness and intelligence. +Even Mr. Frith allowed that he was the most punctual of all those young +dogs.</p> +<p>‘I do believe,’ said my father, ‘that his piety +is doing him some good after all.’</p> +<p>So our mutual wishes of a happy Christmas were verified, though not +much according to the notions of this half of the century. People +made their Christmas day either mere merriment, or something little +different from the grave Sunday of that date. And ours, except +for the Admiral’s dining with us, had always been of the latter +description, all the more that when celebrations of the Holy Communion +were so rare they were treated with an awe and reverence which frequency +has perhaps diminished, and a feeling (possibly Puritanical) prevailed +which made it appear incongruous to end with festivity a day so begun. +That we had a Christmas Day Communion at all at Earlscombe was an innovation +only achieved by Mr. Henderson going to assist the old Rector at Wattlesea; +and there were no communicants except from our house, besides Chapman, +his daughter-in-law, and five old creatures between whom the alms were +immediately divided. We afterwards learnt that our best farmer +and his wife were much disappointed at the change from Sunday interfering +with the family jollification; and Mrs. Sophia Selby was annoyed at +the contradiction to her habits under the rule of her poor dear uncle.</p> +<p>Of the irregularities, irreverences, and squalor of the whole I will +not speak. They were not then such stumbling-blocks as they would +be now, and many passed unperceived by us, buried as we were in our +big pew, with our eyes riveted on our books; yet even thus there was +enough evident to make my mother rejoice that Mr. Henderson would be +with us before Easter. Still this could not mar the thankful gladness +that was with us all that day, and which shone in Clarence’s eyes. +His countenance always had a remarkable expression in church, as if +somehow his spirit went farther than ours did, and things unseen were +more real to him.</p> +<p>Hillside, as usual, had two services, and my father and his friend +were going to walk thither in the afternoon, but it was a raw cold day, +threatening snow, and Emily was caught by my mother in the hail and +ordered back, as well as Clarence, who had shown symptoms of having +caught cold on his dismal journey. Emily coaxed from her permission +to have a fire in the bookroom, and there we three had a memorably happy +time. We read our psalms and lessons, and our <i>Christian Year</i>, +which was more and more the lodestar of our feelings. We compared +our favourite passages, and discussed the obscurer ones, and Clarence +was led to talk out more of his heart than he had ever shown to us before. +Perhaps he had lost some of his reserve through his intercourse with +our good old governess, Miss Newton, who was still grinding away at +her daily mill, though with somewhat failing eyesight, so that she could +do nothing but knit in the long evenings, and was most grateful to her +former pupil for coming, as often as he could, to talk or read to her.</p> +<p>She was a most excellent and devout woman, and when Emily, who in +youthful <i>gaieté de cœur</i> had got a little tired of +her, exclaimed at his taste, and asked if she made him read nothing +but Pike’s Early <i>Piety</i>, he replied gravely, ‘She +showed me where to lay my burthen down,’ and turned to the two +last verses of the poem for ‘Good Friday’ in the <i>Christian +Year</i>, as well as to the one we had just read on the Holy Communion.</p> +<p>My father’s kindness had seemed to him the pledge of the Heavenly +Father’s forgiveness; and he added, perhaps a little childishly, +that it had been his impulse to promise never to touch a card again, +but that he dreaded the only too familiar reply, ‘What availed +his promises?’</p> +<p>‘Do promise, Clarry!’ cried Emily, ‘and then you +won’t have to play with that tiresome old Mrs. Sophia.’</p> +<p>‘That would rather deter me,’ said Clarence good-humouredly.</p> +<p>‘A card-playing old age is despicable,’ pronounced Miss +Emily, much to our amusement.</p> +<p>After that we got into a bewilderment. We knew nothing of the +future question of temperance <i>versus</i> total abstinence; but after +it had been extracted that Miss Newton regarded cards as the devil’s +books, the inconsistent little sister changed sides, and declared it +narrow and evangelical to renounce what was innocent. Clarence +argued that what might be harmless for others might be dangerous for +such as himself, and that his real difficulty in making even a mental +vow was that, if broken, there was an additional sin.</p> +<p>‘It is not oneself that one trusts,’ I said.</p> +<p>‘No,’ said Clarence emphatically; ‘and setting +up a vow seems as if it might be sticking up the reed of one’s +own word, and leaning on <i>that</i> - when it breaks, at least mine +does. If I could always get the grasp of Him that I felt to-day, +there would be no more bewildered heart and failing spirit, which are +worse than the actual falls they cause.’ And as Emily said +she did not understand, he replied in words I wrote down and thought +over, ‘What we <i>are</i> is the point, more than even what we +<i>do</i>. We <i>do</i> as we <i>are</i>; and yet we form ourselves +by what we <i>do</i>.’</p> +<p>‘And,’ I put in, ‘I know somebody who won a victory +last night over himself and his two brothers. Surely <i>doing</i> +that is a sign that he <i>is</i> more than he used to be.’</p> +<p>‘If he were, it would not have been an effort at all,’ +said Clarence, but with his rare sweet smile.</p> +<p>Just then Griff called him away, and Emily sat pondering and impressed. +‘It did seem so odd,’ she said, ‘that Clarry should +be so much the best, and yet so much the worst of us.’</p> +<p>I agreed. His insight into spiritual things, and his enjoyment +of them, always humiliated us both, yet he fell so much lower in practice, +- ‘But then we had not his temptations.’</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ said Emily; ‘but look at Griff! He +goes about like other young men, and keeps all right, and yet he doesn’t +care about religious things a bit more than he can help.’</p> +<p>It was quite true. Religion was life to the one and an insurance +to the other, and this had been a mystery to us all our young lives, +as far as we had ever reflected on the contrast between the practical +failure and success of each. Our mother, on the other hand, viewed +Clarence’s tendencies as part of an unreal, self-deceptive nature, +and regretted his intimacy with Miss Newton, who, she said, had fostered +‘that kind of thing’ in his childhood - made him fancy talk, +feeling, and preaching were more than truth and honour - and might lead +him to run after Irving, Rowland Hill, or Baptist Noel, about whose +tenets she was rather confused. It would be an additional misfortune +if he became a fanatical Evangelical light, and he was just the character +to be worked upon.</p> +<p>My father held that she might be thankful for any good influence +or safe resort for a young man in lodgings in London, and he merely +bade Clarence never resort to any variety of dissenting preacher. +We were of the school called - a little later - high and dry, but were +strictly orthodox according to our lights, and held it a prime duty +to attend our parish church, whatever it might be; nor, indeed, had +Clarence swerved from these traditions.</p> +<p>Poor Mrs. Sophia was baulked of the game at whist, which she viewed +as a legitimate part of the Christmas pleasures; and after we had eaten +our turkey, we found the evening long, except that Martyn escaped to +snapdragon with the servants; and, by and by, Chapman, magnificent in +patronage, ushered in the church singers into the hall, and clarionet, +bassoon, and fiddle astonished our ears.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV - THE MULLION CHAMBER</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘A lady with a lamp I see,<br />Pass through the glimmering +gloom,<br /> And flit from room to room.’</p> +<p>LONGFELLOW.</p> +<p>For want of being able to take exercise, the first part of the night +had always been sleepless with me, though my dear mother thought it +wrong to recognise the habit or allow me a lamp. A fire, however, +I had, and by its light, on the second night after Christmas, I saw +my door noiselessly opened, and Clarence creeping in half-dressed and +barefooted. To my frightened interrogation the answer came, through +chattering teeth, ‘It’s I - only I - Ted - no - nothing’s +the matter, only I can’t stand it any longer!’</p> +<p>His hands were cold as ice when he grasped mine, as if to get hold +of something substantial, and he trembled so as to shake the bed. +‘That room,’ he faltered. ‘’Tis not only +the moans! I’ve seen her!’</p> +<p>‘Whom?’</p> +<p>‘I don’t know. There she stands with her lamp, +crying!’ I could scarcely distinguish the words through +the clashing of his teeth, and as I threw my arms round him the shudder +seemed to pass to me; but I did my best to warm him by drawing the clothes +over him, and he began to gather himself together, and speak intelligibly. +There had been sounds the first night as of wailing, but he had been +too much preoccupied to attend to them till, soon after one o’clock, +they ended in a heavy fall and long shriek, after which all was still. +Christmas night had been undisturbed, but on this the voices had begun +again at eleven, and had a strangely human sound; but as it was windy, +sleety weather, and he had learnt at sea to disregard noises in the +rigging, he drew the sheet over his head and went to sleep. ‘I +was dreaming that I was at sea,’ he said, ‘as I always do +on a noisy night, but this was not a dream. I was wakened by a +light in the room, and there stood a woman with a lamp, moaning and +sobbing. My first notion was that one of the maids had come to +call me, and I sat up; but I could not speak, and she gave another awful +suppressed cry, and moved towards that walled-up door. Then I +saw it was none of the servants, for it was an antique dress like an +old picture. So I knew what it must be, and an unbearable horror +came over me, and I rushed into the outer room, where there was a little +fire left; but I heard her going on still, and I could endure it no +longer. I knew you would be awake and would bear with me, so I +came down to you.’</p> +<p>Then this was what Chapman and the maids had meant. This was +Mrs. Sophia Selby’s vulgar superstition! I found that Clarence +had heard none of the mysterious whispers afloat, and only knew that +Griff had deserted the room after his own return to London. I +related what I had learnt from the old lady, and in that midnight hour +we agreed that it could be no mere fancy or rumour, but that cruel wrong +must have been done in that chamber. Our feeling was that all +ought to be made known, and in that impression we fell asleep, Clarence +first.</p> +<p>By and by I found him moving. He had heard the clock strike +four, and thought it wiser to repair to his own quarters, where he believed +the disturbance was over. Lucifer matches as yet were not, but +he had always been a noiseless being, with a sailor’s foot, so +that, by the help of the moonlight through the hall windows, he regained +his room.</p> +<p>And when morning had come, the nocturnal visitation wore such a different +aspect to both our minds that we decided to say nothing to our parents, +who, said Clarence, would simply disbelieve him; and, indeed, I inclined +to suppose it had been an uncommonly vivid dream, produced in that sensitive +nature by the uncanny sounds of the wind in the chinks and crannies +of the ancient chamber. Had not Scott’s <i>Demonology and +Witchcraft</i>, which we studied hard on that day, proved all such phantoms +to be explicable? The only person we told was Griff, who was amused +and incredulous. He had heard the noises - oh yes! and objected +to having his sleep broken by them. It was too had to expose Clarence +to them - poor Bill - on whom they worked such fancies!</p> +<p>He interrogated Chapman, however, but probably in that bantering +way which is apt to produce reserve. Chapman never ‘gave +heed to them fictious tales,’ he said; but, when hard pressed, +he allowed that he had ‘heerd that a lady do walk o’ winter +nights,’ and that was why the garden door of the old rooms was +walled up. Griff asked if this was done for fear she should catch +cold, and this somewhat affronted him, so that he averred that he knew +nought about it, and gave no thought to such like.</p> +<p>Just then they arrived at the Winslow Arms, and took each a glass +of ale, when Griff, partly to tease Chapman, asked the landlady - an +old Chantry House servant - whether she had ever met the ghost. +She turned rather pale, which seemed to have impressed him, and demanded +if he had seen it. ‘It always walked at Christmas time - +between then and the New Year.’ She had once seen a light +in the garden by the ruin in winter-time, and once last spring it came +along the passage, but that was just before the old Squire was took +for death, - folks said that was always the way before any of the family +died - ‘if you’ll excuse it, sir.’ Oh no, she +thought nothing of such things, but she had heard tell that the noises +were such at all times of the year that no one could sleep in the rooms, +but the light wasn’t to be seen except at Christmas.</p> +<p>Griff with the philosophy of a university man, was certain that all +was explained by Clarence having imbibed the impression of the place +being haunted; and going to sleep nervous at the noises, his brain had +shaped a phantom in accordance. Let Clarence declare as he might +that the legends were new to him, Griff only smiled to think how easily +people forgot, and he talked earnestly about catching ideas without +conscious information.</p> +<p>However, he volunteered to sit up that night to ascertain the exact +causes of the strange noises and convince Clarence that they were nothing +but the effects of draughts. The fire in his gunroom was surreptitiously +kept up to serve for the vigil, which I ardently desired to share. +It was an enterprise; it would gratify my curiosity; and besides, though +Griffith was good-natured and forbearing in a general way towards Clarence, +I detected a spirit of mockery about him which might break out unpleasantly +when poor Clarry was convicted of one of his unreasonable panics.</p> +<p>Both brothers were willing to gratify me, the only difficulty being +that the tap of my crutches would warn the entire household of the expedition. +However, they had - all unknown to my mother - several times carried +me about queen’s cushion fashion, as, being always much of a size, +they could do most handily; and as both were now fine, strong, well-made +youths of twenty and nineteen, they had no doubt of easily and silently +conveying me up the shallow-stepped staircase when all was quiet for +the night.</p> +<p>Emily, with her sharp ears, guessed that something was in hand, but +we promised her that she should know all in time. I believe Griff, +being a little afraid of her quickness, led her to suppose he was going +to hold what he called a symposium in his rooms, and to think it a mystery +of college life not intended for young ladies.</p> +<p>He really had prepared a sort of supper for us when, after my father’s +resounding turn of the key of the drawing-room door, my brothers, in +their stocking soles, bore me upstairs, the fun of the achievement for +the moment overpowering all sense of eeriness. Griff said he could +not receive me in his apartment without doing honour to the occasion, +and that Dutch courage was requisite for us both; but I suspect it was +more in accordance with Oxford habits that he had provided a bottle +of sherry and another of ale, some brandy cherries, bread, cheese, and +biscuits, by what means I do not know, for my mother always locked up +the wine. He was disappointed that Clarence would touch nothing, +and declared that inanition was the preparation for ghost-seeing or +imagining. I drank his health in a glass of sherry as I looked +round at the curious old room, with its panelled roof, the heraldic +devices and badges of the Power family, and the trophy of swords, dirks, +daggers, and pistols, chiefly relics of our naval grandfather, but reinforced +by the sword, helmet, and spurs of the county Yeomanry which Griff had +joined.</p> +<p>Griff proposed cards to drive away fancies, especially as the sounds +were beginning; but though we generally yielded to him we <i>could</i> +not give our attention to anything but these. There was first +a low moan. ‘No great harm in that,’ said Griff; ‘it +comes through that crack in the wainscot where there is a sham window. +Some putty will put a stop to that.’</p> +<p>Then came a more decided wail and sob much nearer to us. Griff +hastily swallowed the ale in his tumbler, and, striking a theatrical +attitude, exclaimed, ‘Angels and ministers of grace defend us!’</p> +<p>Clarence held up his hand in deprecation. The door into his +bedroom was open, and Griff, taking up one of the flat candlesticks, +pursued his researches, holding the flame to all chinks or cracks in +the wainscotting to detect draughts which might cause the dreary sounds, +which were much more like suppressed weeping than any senseless gust +of wind. Of draughts there were many, and he tried holding his +hand against each crevice to endeavour to silence the wails; but these +became more human and more distressful. Presently Clarence exclaimed, +‘There!’ and on his face there was a whiteness and an expression +which always recurs to me on reading those words of Eliphaz the Temanite, +‘Then a spirit passed before my face, and the hair of my flesh +stood up.’ Even Griff was awestruck as we cried, ‘Where? +what?’</p> +<p>‘Don’t you see her? There! By the press - +look!’</p> +<p>‘I see a patch of moonlight on the wall,’ said Griff.</p> +<p>‘Moonlight - her lamp. Edward, don’t you see her?’</p> +<p>I could see nothing but a spot of light on the wall. Griff +(plainly putting a force on himself) came back and gave him a good-natured +shake. ‘Dreaming again, old Bill. Wake up and come +to your senses.’</p> +<p>‘I am as much in my senses as you are,’ said Clarence. +‘I see her as plainly as I see you.’</p> +<p>Nor could any one doubt either the reality of the awe in his voice +and countenance, nor of the light - a kind of hazy ball - nor of the +choking sobs.</p> +<p>‘What is she like?’ I asked, holding his hand, for, though +infected by his dread, my fears were chiefly for the effect on him; +but he was much calmer and less horror-struck than on the previous night, +though still he shuddered as he answered in a low voice, as if loth +to describe a lady in her presence, ‘A dark cloak with the hood +fallen back, a kind of lace headdress loosely fastened, brown hair, +thin white face, eyes - oh, poor thing! - staring with fright, dark +- oh, how swollen the lids! all red below with crying - black dress +with white about it - a widow kind of look - a glove on the arm with +the lamp. Is she beckoning - looking at us? Oh, you poor +thing, if I could tell what you mean!’</p> +<p>I felt the motion of his muscles in act to rise, and grasped him. +Griff held him with a strong hand, hoarsely crying, ‘Don’t! +- don’t - don’t follow the thing, whatever you do!’</p> +<p>Clarence hid his face. It was very awful and strange. +Once the thought of conjuring her to speak by the Holy Name crossed +me, but then I saw no figure; and with incredulous Griffith standing +by, it would have been like playing, nor perhaps could I have spoken. +How long this lasted there is no knowing; but presently the light moved +towards the walled-up door and seemed to pass into it. Clarence +raised his head and said she was gone. We breathed freely.</p> +<p>‘The farce is over,’ said Griff. ‘Mr. Edward +Winslow’s carriage stops the way!’</p> +<p>I was hoisted up, candle in hand, between the two, and had nearly +reached the stairs when there came up on the garden side a sound as +of tipsy revellers in the garden. ‘The scoundrels! how can +they have got in?’ cried Griff, looking towards the window; but +all the windows on that side had peculiarly heavy shutters and bars, +with only a tiny heart-shaped aperture very high up, so they somewhat +hurried their steps downstairs, intending to rush out on the intruders +from the back door. But suddenly, in the middle of the staircase, +we heard a terrible heartrending woman’s shriek, making us all +start and have a general fall. My brothers managed to seat me +safely on a step without much damage to themselves, but the candle fell +and was extinguished, and we made too heavy a weight to fall without +real noise enough to bring the household together before we could pick +ourselves up in the dark.</p> +<p>We heard doors opening and hurried calls, and something about pistols, +impelling Griff to call out, ‘It’s nothing, papa; but there +are some drunken rascals in the garden.’</p> +<p>A light had come by this time, and we were detected. There +was a general sally upon the enemy in the garden before any one thought +of me, except a ‘You here!’ when they nearly fell over me. +And there I was left sitting on the stair, helpless without my crutches, +till in a few minutes all returned declaring there was nothing - no +signs of anything; and then as Clarence ran up to me with my crutches +my father demanded the meaning of my being there at that time of night.</p> +<p>‘Well, sir,’ said Griff, ‘it is only that we have +been sitting up to investigate the ghost.’</p> +<p>‘Ghost! Arrant stuff and nonsense! What induced +you to be dragging Edward about in this dangerous way?’</p> +<p>‘I wished it,’ said I.</p> +<p>‘You are all mad together, I think. I won’t have +the house disturbed for this ridiculous folly. I shall look into +it to-morrow!‘</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XV - RATIONAL THEORIES</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘These are the reasons, they are natural.’</p> +<p><i>Julius Cæsar.</i></p> +<p>If anything could have made our adventure more unpleasant to Mr. +and Mrs. Winslow, it would have been the presence of guests. However, +inquiry was suppressed at breakfast, in deference to the signs my mother +made to enjoin silence before the children, all unaware that Emily was +nearly frantic with suppressed curiosity, and Martyn knew more about +the popular version of the legend than any of us.</p> +<p>Clarence looked wan and heavy-eyed. His head was aching from +a bump against the edge of a step, and his cold was much worse; no wonder, +said my mother; but she was always softened by any ailment, and feared +that the phantoms were the effect of coming illness. I have always +thought that if Clarence could have come home from his court-martial +with a brain fever he would have earned immediate forgiveness; but unluckily +for him, he was a very healthy person.</p> +<p>All three of us were summoned to the tribunal in the study, where +my father and my mother sat in judgment on what they termed ‘this +preposterous business.’ In our morning senses our impressions +were much more vague than at midnight, and we betrayed some confusion; +but Griff and I had a strong instinct of sheltering Clarence, and we +stoutly declared the noises to be beyond the capacities of wind, rats, +or cats; that the light was visible and inexplicable; and that though +we had seen nothing else, we could not doubt that Clarence did.</p> +<p>‘Thought he did,’ corrected my father.</p> +<p>‘Without discussing the word,’ said Griff, ‘I mean +that the effect on his senses was the same as the actual sight. +You could not look at him without being certain.’</p> +<p>‘Exactly so,’ returned my mother. ‘I wish +Dr. Fellowes were near.’</p> +<p>Indeed nothing saved Clarence from being consigned to medical treatment +but the distance from Bath or Bristol, and the contradictory advice +that had been received from our county neighbours as to our family doctor. +However, she formed her theory that his nervous imaginings - whether +involuntary or acted, she hoped the former, and wished she could be +sure - had infected us; and, as she was really uneasy about him, she +would not let him sleep in the mullion room, but having nowhere else +to bestow him, she turned out the man-servant and put him into the little +room beyond mine, and she also forbade any mention of the subject to +him that day.</p> +<p>This was a sore prohibition to Emily, who had been discussing it +with the other ladies, and was in a mingled state of elation at the +romance, and terror at the supernatural, which found vent in excited +giggle, and moved Griff to cram her with raw-head and bloody-bone horrors, +conventional enough to be suspicious, and send her to me tearfully to +entreat to know the truth. If by day she exulted in a haunted +chamber, in the evening she paid for it by terrors at walking about +the house alone, and, when sent on an errand by my mother, looked piteous +enough to be laughed at or scolded on all sides.</p> +<p>The gentlemen had more serious colloquies, and the upshot was a determination +to sit up together and discover the origin of the annoyance. Mr. +Stafford’s antiquarian researches had made him familiar with such +mysteries, and enough of them had been explained by natural causes to +convince him that there was a key to all the rest. Owls, coiners, +and smugglers had all been convicted of simulating ghosts. In +one venerable mansion, behind the wainscot, there had been discovered +nine skeletons of cats in different stages of decay, having trapped +themselves at various intervals of time, and during the gradual extinction +of their eighty-one lives having emitted cries enough to establish the +ghastly reputation of the place. Perhaps Mr. Henderson was inclined +to believe there were more things in heaven and earth than were dreamt +of in even an antiquary’s philosophy. He owned himself perplexed, +but reserved his opinion.</p> +<p>At breakfast Clarence was quite well, except for the remains of his +sore throat, and the two seniors were gruff and brief as to their watch. +They had heard odd noises, and should discover the cause; the carpenter +had already been sent for, and they had seen a light which was certainly +due to reflection or refraction. Mr. Henderson committed himself +to nothing but that ‘it was very extraordinary;’ and there +was a wicked look of diversion on Griff’s face, and an exchange +of glances. Afterwards, in our own domain, we extracted a good +deal more from them.</p> +<p>Griff told us how the two elders started on politics, and denounced +Brougham and O’Connell loud enough to terrify any save the most +undaunted ghost, till Henderson said ‘Hush!’ and they paused +at the moan with which the performance always commenced, making Mr. +Stafford turn, as Griff said, ‘white in the gills,’ though +he talked of the wind on the stillest of frosty nights. Then came +the sobbing and wailing, which certainly overawed them all; Henderson +called them ‘agonising,’ but Griff was in a manner inured +to this, and felt as if master of the ceremonies. Let them say +what they would by daylight about owls, cats, and rats, they owned the +human element then, and were far from comfortable, though they would +not compromise their good sense by owning what both their younger companions +had perceived - their feeling of some undefinable presence. Vain +attempts had been made to account for the light or get rid of it by +changing the position of candles or bright objects in the outer room; +and Henderson had shut himself into the bedroom with it; but there he +still only saw the hazy light - though all was otherwise pitch dark, +except the keyhole and the small gray patch of sky at the top of the +window-shutters. ‘You saw nothing else?’ said Griff. +‘I thought I heard you break out as Clarence did, just before +my father opened the door.’</p> +<p>‘Perhaps I did so. I had the sense strongly on me of +some being in grievous distress very near me.’</p> +<p>‘And you should have power over it,’ suggested Emily.</p> +<p>‘I am afraid,’ he said, ‘that more thorough conviction +and comprehension are needed before I could address the thing with authority. +I should like to have stayed longer and heard the conclusion.’</p> +<p>For Mr. Stafford had grown impatient and weary, and my father having +satisfied himself that there was something to be detected, would not +remain to the end, and not only carried his companions off, but locked +the doors, perhaps expecting to imprison some agent in a trick, and +find him in the morning.</p> +<p>Indeed Clarence had a dim remembrance of having been half wakened +by some one looking in on him in the night, when he was sleeping heavily +after his cold and the previous night’s disturbance, and we suspected, +though we would not say, that our father might have wished to ascertain +that he had no share in producing these appearances. He was, however, +fully acquitted of all wilful deception in the case, and he was not +surprised, though he was disappointed, that his vision of the lady was +supposed to be the consequence of excited imagination.</p> +<p>‘I can’t help it,’ he said to me in private. +‘I have always seen or felt, or whatever you may call it, things +that others do not. Don’t you remember how nobody would +believe that I saw Lucy Brooke?’</p> +<p>‘That was in the beginning of the measles.’</p> +<p>‘ I know; and I will tell you something curious. When +I was at Gibraltar I met Mrs. Emmott - ’</p> +<p>‘Mary Brooke?’</p> +<p>‘Yes; I spent a very happy Sunday with her. We talked +over old times, and she told me that Lucy had all through her illness +been very uneasy about having promised to bring me a macaw’s feather +the next time we played in the Square gardens. It could not be +sent to me for fear of carrying the infection, but the dear girl was +too light-headed to understand, and kept on fretting and wandering about +breaking her word. I have no doubt the wish carried her spirit +to me the moment it was free,’ he added, with tears springing +to his eyes. He also said that before the court-martial he had, +night after night, dreams of sinking and drowning in huge waves, and +his friend Coles struggling to come to his aid, but being forcibly withheld; +and he had since learnt that Coles had actually endeavoured to come +from Plymouth to bear testimony to his previous character, but had been +refused leave, and told that he could do no good.</p> +<p>There had been other instances of perception of a presence and of +a prescient foreboding. ‘It is like a sixth sense,’ +he said, ‘and a very uncomfortable one. I would give much +to be rid of it, for it is connected with all that is worst in my life. +I had it before Navarino, when no one expected an engagement. +It made me believe I should be killed, and drove me to what was much +worse - or at least I used to think so.’</p> +<p>‘Don’t you now?’ I asked.</p> +<p>‘No,’ said Clarence. ‘It was a great mercy +that I did not die then. There’s something to conquer first. +But you’ll never speak of this, Ted. I have left off telling +of such things - it only gives another reason for disbelieving me.’</p> +<p>However, this time his veracity was not called in question, - but +he was supposed to be under a hallucination, the creation of the noises +acting on his imagination and memory of the persecuted widow, which +must have been somewhere dormant in his mind, though he averred that +he had never heard of it. It had now, however, made a strong impression +on him; he was convinced that some crime or injustice had been perpetrated, +and thought it ought to be investigated; but Griffith made us laugh +at his championship of this shadow of a shade, and even wrote some mock +heroic verses about it, - nor would it have been easy to stir my father +to seek for the motives of an apparition which no one in the family +save Clarence professed to have seen.</p> +<p>The noises were indisputable, but my mother began to suspect a cause +for them. To oblige a former cook we had brought down with us +as stable-boy her son, George Sims, an imp accustomed to be the pet +and jester of a mews. Martyn was only too fond of his company, +and he made no secret of his contempt for the insufferable dulness of +the country, enlivening it by various acts of monkey-mischief, in some +of which Martyn had been implicated. That very afternoon, as Mrs. +Sophia Selby was walking home in the twilight from Chapman’s lodge, +in company with Mr. Henderson, an eldritch yell proceeding from the +vaults beneath the mullion chambers nearly frightened her into fits. +Henderson darted in and captured the two boys in the fact. Martyn’s +asseveration that he had taken the pair for Griff and Emily would have +pacified the good-natured clergyman, but Mrs. Sophia was too much agitated, +or too spiteful, as we declared, not to make a scene.</p> +<p>Martyn spent the evening alone and in disgrace, and only his unimpeachable +character for truth caused the acceptance of his affirmation that the +yell was an impromptu fraternal compliment, and that he had nothing +to do with the noises in the mullion chamber. He had been supposed +to be perfectly unconscious of anything of the kind, and to have never +so much as heard of a phantom, so my mother was taken somewhat aback +when, in reply to her demand whether he had ever been so naughty as +to assist George in making a noise in Clarence’s room, he said, +‘Why, that’s the ghost of the lady that was murdered atop +of the steps, and always walks every Christmas!’</p> +<p>‘Who told you such ridiculous nonsense?’</p> +<p>The answer ‘George’ was deemed conclusive that all had +been got up by that youth; and there was considerable evidence of his +talent for ventriloquism and taste for practical jokes. My mother +was certain that, having heard of the popular superstition, he had acted +ghost. She appealed to <i>Woodstock</i> to prove the practicability +of such feats; and her absolute conviction persuaded the maids (who +had given warning <i>en masse</i>) that the enemy was exorcised when +George Sims had been sent off on the Royal Mail under Clarence’s +guardianship.</p> +<p>None of the junior part of the family believed him guilty, but he +had hunted the cows round the paddock, mounted on my donkey, had nearly +shot the kitchen-maid with Griff’s gun, and, if not much maligned, +knew the way to the apple-chamber only too well, - so that he richly +deserved his doom, rejoiced in it himself, and was unregretted save +by Martyn. Clarence viewed him in the light of a victim, and tried +to keep an eye on him, but he developed his talent as a ventriloquist, +made his fortune, and retired on a public-house.</p> +<p>My mother would fain have had the vaults under the mullion rooms +bricked up, but Mr. Stafford cried out on the barbarism of such a proceeding. +The mystery was declared to be solved, and was added to Mr. Stafford’s +good stories of haunted houses.</p> +<p>And at home my father forbade any further mention of such rank folly +and deception. The inner mullion chamber was turned into a lumber-room, +and as weeks passed by without hearing or seeing any more of lady or +of lamp, we began to credit the wonderful freaks of the goblin page.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI - CAT LANGUAGE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Soon as she parted thence - the fearful twayne,<br />That blind old +woman and her daughter deare,<br />Came forth, and finding Kirkrapine +there slayne,<br />For anguish greate they gan to rend their heare<br />And +beate their breasts, and naked flesh to teare;<br />And when they both +had wept and wayled their fill,<br />Then forth they ran, like two amazèd +deere,<br />Half mad through malice and revenging will,<br />To follow +her that was the causer of their ill.’</p> +<p>SPENSER.</p> +<p>The Christmas vacation was not without another breeze about Griffith’s +expenses at Oxford. He held his head high, and declared that people +expected something from the eldest son of a man of property, and my +father tried to convince him that a landed estate often left less cash +available than did the fixed salary of an office. Griff treated +all in his light, good-humoured way, promised to be careful, and came +to me to commiserate the poor old gentleman’s ignorance of the +ways of the new generation.</p> +<p>There ensued some trying weeks of dark days, raw frost, and black +east wind, when the home party cast longing, lingering recollections +back to the social intercourse, lamp-lit streets, and ready interchange +of books and other amenities we had left behind us. We were not +accustomed to have our nearest neighbours separated from us by two miles +of dirty lane, or road mended with excruciating stones, nor were they +very congenial when we did see them. The Fordyce family might +be interesting, but we younger ones could not forget the slight to Clarence, +and, besides, the girls seemed to be entirely in the schoolroom, Mrs. +Fordyce was delicate and was shut up all the winter, and the only intercourse +that took place was when my father met the elder Mr. Fordyce at the +magistrates’ bench; also there was a conference about Amos Bell, +who was preferred to the post left vacant by George Sims, in right of +his being our tenant, but more civilised than Earlscombers, a widow’s +son, and not sufficiently recovered from his accident to be exposed +to the severe tasks of a ploughboy in the winter.</p> +<p>Mrs. Fordyce was the manager of a book-club, which circulated volumes +covered in white cartridge paper, with a printed list of the subscribers’ +names. Two volumes at a time might be kept for a month by each +member in rotation, novels were excluded, and the manager had a veto +on all orders. We found her more liberal than some of our other +neighbours, who looked on our wants and wishes with suspicion as savouring +of London notions. Happily we could read old books and standard +books over again, and we gloated over <i>Blackwood</i> and the <i>Quarterly</i>, +enjoying, too, every out-of-door novelty of the coming spring, as each +revealed itself. Emily will never forget her first primroses, +nor I the first thrush in early morning.</p> +<p>Blankets, broth, and what were uncomfortably termed broken victuals +had been given away during the winter, and a bewildering amount of begging +women and children used to ask interviews with ‘the Lady Winslow,’ +with stories that crumbled on investigation so as to make us recollect +the Rector’s character of Earlscombe.</p> +<p>However, Mr. Henderson came in the second week of Lent, and what +our steps towards improvement introduced would have seemed almost as +shocking to you youngsters, as what they displaced. For instance, +a plain crimson cloth covered the altar, instead of the rags in the +colours of the Winslow livery, presented, according to the queer old +register, by the unfortunate Margaret. There was talk of velvet +and the gold monogram, surrounded by rays, alternately straight and +wavy, as in our London church, but this was voted ‘unfit for a +plain village church.’ Still, the new hangings of pulpit, +desk, and altar were all good in quality and colour, and huge square +cushions were provided as essential to each. Moreover, the altar +vessels were made somewhat more respectable, - all this being at my +father’s expense.</p> +<p>He also carried in the Vestry, though not without strong opposition +from a dissenting farmer, that new linen and a fresh surplice should +be provided by the parish, which surplice would have made at least six +of such as are at present worn. The farmers were very jealous +of the interference of the Squire in the Vestry - ‘what he had +no call to,’ and of church rates applied to any other object than +the reward of birdslayers, as thus, in the register -</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Hairy Wills, 1 score sprows heds 2d.<br />Jems Brown, 1 poulcat 6d.<br />Jarge +Bell, 2 howls 6d.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>It was several years before this appropriation of the church rates +could be abolished. The year 1830, with a brand new squire and +parson, was too ticklish a time for many innovations.</p> +<p>Hillside Church was the only one in the neighbourhood where Holy +Week or Ascension Day had been observed in the memory of man. +When we proposed going to church on the latter day the gardener asked +my mother ‘if it was her will to keep Thursday holy,’ as +if he expected its substitution for Sunday. Monthly Communions +and Baptisms after the Second Lesson were viewed as ‘not fit for +a country church,’ and every attempt at even more secular improvements +was treated with the most disappointing distrust and aversion. +When my father laid out the allotment grounds, the labourers suspected +some occult design for his own profit, and the farmers objected that +the gardens would be used as an excuse for neglecting their work and +stealing their potatoes. Coal-club and clothing-club were regarded +in like manner, and while a few took advantage of these offers in a +grudging manner, the others viewed everything except absolute gifts +as ‘me-an’ on our part, the principle of aid to self-help +being an absolute novelty. When I look back to the notes in our +journals of that date I see how much has been overcome.</p> +<p>Perhaps we listened more than was strictly wise to the revelations +of Amos Bell, when he attended Emily and me on our expeditions with +the donkey. Though living over the border of Hillside, he had +a family of relations at Earlscombe, and for a time lodged with his +grandmother there. When his shyness and lumpishness gave way, +he proved so bright that Emily undertook to carry on his education. +He soon had a wonderful eye for a wild flower, and would climb after +it with the utmost agility; and when once his tongue was loosed, he +became almost too communicative, and made us acquainted with the opinions +of ‘they Earlscoom folk’ with a freedom not to be found +in an elder or a native.</p> +<p>Moreover, he was the brightest light of the Sunday school which Mr. +Henderson opened at once - for want of a more fitting place - in the +disused north transept of the church. It was an uncouth, ill-clad +crew which assembled on those dilapidated paving tiles. Their +own grandchildren look almost as far removed from them in dress and +civilisation as did my sister in her white worked cambric dress, silk +scarf, huge Tuscan bonnet, and the little curls beyond the lace quilling +round her bright face, far rosier than ever it had been in town. +And what would the present generation say to the odd little contrivances +in the way of cotton sun-bonnets, check pinafores, list tippets, and +print capes, and other wonderful manufactures from the rag-bag, which +were then grand prizes and stimulants?</p> +<p>Previous knowledge or intelligence scarcely existed, and then was +not due to Dame Dearlove’s tuition. Mr. Henderson pronounced +an authorised school a necessity. My father had scruples as to +vested rights, for the old woman was the last survivor of a family who +had had recourse to primer and hornbook after their ejection on ‘black +Bartholomew’s Day;’ and when the meeting-house was built +after the Revolution, had combined preaching with teaching. Monopoly +had promoted degeneracy, and this last of the race was an unfavourable +specimen in all save outward picturesqueness. However, much against +Henderson’s liking, an accommodation was proposed, by which books +were to be supplied to her, and the Church Catechism be taught in her +school, with the assistance of the curate and Miss Winslow.</p> +<p>The terms were rejected with scorn. No School Board could be +more determined against the Catechism, nor against ‘passons meddling +wi’ she;’ and as to assistance, ‘she had been a governess +this thirty year, and didn’t want no one trapesing in and out +of her school.’</p> +<p>She was warned, but probably did not believe in the possibility of +an opposition school; and really there were children enough in the place +to overfill both her room and that which was fitted up after a very +humble fashion in one of our cottages. H.M. Inspector would hardly +have thought it even worth condemnation any more than the attainments +of the mistress, the young widow of a small Bristol skipper. Her +qualifications consisted in her piety and conscientiousness, good temper +and excellent needlework, together with her having been a scholar in +one of Mrs. Hannah More’s schools in the Cheddar district. +She could read and teach reading well; but as for the dangerous accomplishments +of writing and arithmetic, such as desired to pass beyond the rudiments +of them must go to Wattlesea.</p> +<p>So nice did she look in her black that Earlscombe voted her a mere +town lady, and even at a penny a week hesitated to send its children +to her. Indeed it was currently reported that her school was part +of a deep and nefarious scheme of the gentlefolks for reducing the poor-rates +by enticing the children, and then shipping them off to foreign parts +from Bristol.</p> +<p>But the great crisis was one unlucky summer evening when Emily and +I were out with the donkey, and Griffith, just come home from Oxford, +was airing the new acquisition of a handsome black retriever.</p> +<p>Close by the old chapel, a black cat was leisurely crossing the road. +At her dashed Nero, stimulated perhaps by an almost involuntary scss +- scss - from his master, if not from Amos and me. The cat flew +up a low wall, and stood at bay on the top on tiptoe, with bristling +tail, arched back, and fiery eyes, while the dog danced round in agony +on his hind legs, barking furiously, and almost reaching her. +Female sympathy ever goes to the cat, and Emily screamed out in the +fear that he would seize her, or even that Griff might aid him. +Perhaps Amos would have done so, if left to himself; but Griff, who +saw the cat was safe, could not help egging on his dog’s impotent +rage, when in the midst, out flew pussy’s mistress, Dame Dearlove +herself, broomstick in hand, using language as vituperative as the cat’s, +and more intelligible.</p> +<p>She was about to strike the dog - indeed I fancy she did, for there +was a howl, and Griff sprang to his defence with - ‘Don’t +hurt my dog, I say! He hasn’t touched the brute! She +can take care of herself. Here, there’s half-a-crown for +the fright,’ as the cat sprang down within the wall, and Nero +slunk behind him. But Dame Dearlove was not so easily appeased. +Her blood was up after our long series of offences, and she broke into +a regular tirade of abuse.</p> +<p>‘That’s the way with you fine folk, thinking you can +tread down poor people like the dirt under your feet, and insult ’em +when you’ve taken the bread out of the mouths of them that were +here before you. Passons and ladies a meddin’ where no one +ever set a foot before! Ay, ay, but ye’ll all be down before +long.’</p> +<p>Griff signed to us to go on, and thundered out on her to take care +what she was about and not be abusive; but this brought a fresh volley +on him, heralded by a derisive laugh. ‘Ha! ha! fine talking +for the likes of you, Winslows that you are. But there’s +a curse on you all! The poor lady as was murdered won’t +let you be! Why, there’s one of you, poor humpy object - +’</p> +<p>At this savage attack on me, Griff waxed furious, and shouted at +her to hold her confounded tongue, but this only diverted the attack +on himself. ‘And as for you - fine chap as ye think yourself, +swaggering and swearing at poor folk, and setting your dog at them - +your time’s coming. Look out for yourself. It’s +well known as how the curse is on the first-born. The Lady Margaret +don’t let none of ’em live to come after his father.’</p> +<p>Griff laughed and said, ‘There, we have had enough of this;’ +and in fact we had already moved on, so that he had to make some long +steps to overtake us, muttering, ‘So we’ve started a Meg +Merrilies! My father won’t keep such a foul-mouthed hag +in the parish long!’</p> +<p>To which I had to respond that her cottage belonged to the trustees +of the chapel, whereat he whistled. I don’t think he knew +that we had heard her final denunciation, and we did not like to mention +it to him, scarcely to each other, though Emily looked very white and +scared.</p> +<p>We talked it over afterwards in private, and with Henderson, who +confessed that he had heard of the old woman’s saying something +of the kind to other persons. We consulted the registers in hopes +of confuting it, but did not satisfy ourselves. The last Squire +had lost his only son at school. He himself had been originally +second in the family, and in the generation before him there had been +some child-deaths, after which we came back to a young man, apparently +the eldest, who, according to Miss Selby’s story, had been killed +in a duel by one of the Fordyces. It was not comfortable, till +I remembered that our family Bible recorded the birth, baptism, and +death of a son who had preceded Griffith, and only borne for a day the +name afterwards bestowed on me.</p> +<p>And Henderson, who was so little our elder as to discuss things on +fairly equal grounds, had some very interesting talks with us two over +ancestral sin and its possible effects, dwelling on the 18th of Ezekiel +as a comment on the Second Commandment. Indeed, we agreed that +the uncomfortable state of disaffection which, in 1830, was becoming +only too manifest in the populace, was the result of neglect in former +ages, and that, even in our own parish, the bitterness, distrust, and +ingratitude were due to the careless, riotous, and oppressive family +whom we represented.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII - THE SIEGE OF HILLSIDE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Ferments arise, imprisoned factions roar,<br />Represt ambition +struggles round the shore;<br />Till, overwrought, the general system +feels<br />Its motion stop, or frenzy fire the wheels.’</p> +<p>GOLDSMITH.</p> +<p>Griffith had come straight home this year. There were no Peacock +gaieties to tempt him in London, for old Sir Henry had died suddenly +soon after the ball in December; nor was there much of a season that +year, owing to the illness and death of George IV.</p> +<p>A regiment containing two old schoolmates of his was at Bristol, +and he spent a good deal of time there, and also in Yeomanry drill. +As autumn came on we rejoiced in having so stalwart a protector, for +the agricultural riots had begun, and the forebodings of another French +Revolution seemed about to be realised. We stayed on at Chantry +House. My father thought his duty lay there as a magistrate, and +my mother would not leave him; nor indeed was any other place much safer, +certainly not London, whence Clarence wrote accounts of formidable mobs +who were expected to do more harm than they accomplished; though their +hatred of the hero of our country filled us with direful prognostications, +and made us think of the guillotine, which was linked with revolution +in our minds, before we had I beheld the numerous changes that followed +upon the thirty years of peace in which we grew up.</p> +<p>The ladies did not much like losing so stalwart a defender when Griff +returned to Oxford; and Jane the housemaid went to bed every night with +the pepper-pot and a poker, the first wherewith to blind the enemy, +the second to charge them with. From our height we could more +than once see blazing ricks, and were glad that the home farm was not +in our own hands, and that our only stack of hay was a good way from +the house. When the onset came at last, it was December, and the +enemy only consisted of about thirty dreary-looking men and boys in +smock-frocks and chalked or smutted faces, armed only with sticks and +an old gun diverted from its purpose of bird-scaring. They shouted +for food, money, and arms; but my father spoke to them from the hall +steps, told them they had better go home and learn that the public-house +was a worse enemy to them than any machine that had ever been invented, +and assured them that they would get no help from him in breaking the +laws and getting themselves into trouble. A stone or two was picked +up, whereupon he went back and had the hall door shut and barred, the +heavy shutters of the windows having all been closed already, so that +we could have stood a much more severe siege than from these poor fellows. +One or two windows were broken, as well as the glass of the conservatory, +and the flower beds were trampled; but finding our fortress impregnable +they sneaked away before dark. We fared better than our neighbours, +some of whom were seriously frightened, and suffered loss of property. +Old Mr. Fordyce had for many years past been an active magistrate - +that a clergyman should be on the bench having been quite correct according +to the notions of his younger days; and in spite of his beneficence +he incurred a good deal of unpopularity for withstanding the lax good-nature +which made his brother magistrates give orders for parish relief refused +to able-bodied paupers by their own Vestries. This was a mischievous +abuse of the old poor-law times, which made people dispose of every +one’s money save their own. He had also been a keen sportsman; +and though his son had given up field sports in deference to higher +notions of clerical duty (his wife’s, as people said), the old +man’s feeling prompted him to severity on poachers. Frank +Fordyce, while by far the most earnest, hardworking clergyman in the +neighbourhood, worked off his superfluous energy on scientific farming, +making the glebe and the hereditary estate as much the model farm as +Hillside was the model parish. He had lately set up a threshing-machine +worked by horses, which was as much admired by the intelligent as it +was vituperated by the ignorant.</p> +<p>Neither paupers nor poachers abounded in Hillside; the natives were +chiefly tenants and employed on the property, and, between good management +and beneficence, there was little real want and much friendly confidence +and affection; and thus, in spite of surrounding riots, Hillside seemed +likely to be an exception, proving what could he done by rightful care +and attention. Nor indeed did the attack come from thence; but +the two parsons were bitterly hated by outsiders beyond the reach of +their personal influence and benevolence.</p> +<p>It was on a Saturday evening, the day after Griff had come back for +the Christmas vacation, that, as Emily was giving Amos his lesson, she +saw that the boy was crying, and after examination he let out that ‘folk +should say that the lads were agoing to break Parson Fordy’s machine +and fire his ricks that very night;’ but he would not give his +authority, and when he saw her about to give warning, entreated, ‘Now, +dont’ze say nothing, Miss Emily - ’</p> +<p>‘What?’ she cried indignantly; ‘do you think I +could hear of such a thing without trying to stop it?’</p> +<p>‘Us says,’ he blurted out, ‘as how Winslows be +always fain of ought as happens to the Fordys - ’</p> +<p>‘We are not such wicked Winslows as you have heard of,’ +returned Emily with dignity; and she rushed off in quest of papa and +Griff, but when she brought them to the bookroom, Amos had decamped, +and was nowhere to be found that night. We afterwards learnt that +he lay hidden in the hay-loft, not daring to return to his granny’s, +lest he should be suspected of being a traitor to his kind; for our +lawless, untamed, discontented parish furnished a large quota to the +rioters, and he has since told me that though all seemed to know what +was about to be done, he did not hear it from any one in particular.</p> +<p>It was no time to make light of a warning, but very difficult to +know what to do. Rural police were non-existent; there were no +soldiers nearer than Keynsham, and the Yeomanry were all in their own +homesteads. However, the captain of Griff’s troop, Sir George +Eastwood, lived about three miles beyond Wattlesea, and had a good many +dependants in the corps, so it was resolved to send him a note by the +gardener, good James Ellis, a steady, resolute man, on Emily’s +fast-trotting pony, while my father and Griff should hasten to Hillside +to warn the Fordyces, who were not unlikely to be able to muster trustworthy +defenders among their own people, and might send the ladies to take +shelter at Chantry House.</p> +<p>My mother’s brave spirit disdained to detain an effective man +for her own protection, and the groom was to go to Hillside; he was +in the Yeomanry, and, like Griff, put on his uniform, while my father +had the Riot Act in his pocket. All the horses were thus absorbed, +but Chapman and the man-servant followed on foot.</p> +<p>Never did I feel my incapacity more than on that strange night, when +Emily was flying about with Martyn to all the doors and windows in a +wild state of excitement, humming to herself -</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘When the dawn on the mountain was misty and gray,<br />My +true love has mounted his steed and away.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>My mother was equally restless, prolonging as much as possible the +preparation of rooms for possible guests; and when she did come and +sit down, she netted her purse with vehement jerks, and scolded Emily +for jumping up and leaving doors open.</p> +<p>At last, after an hour according to the clock, but far more by our +feelings, wheels were heard in the distance; Emily was off like a shot +to reconnoitre, and presently Martyn bounced in with the tidings that +a pair of carriage lamps were coming up the drive. My mother hurried +out into the hall; I made my best speed after her, and found her hastily +undoing the door-chain as she recognised the measured, courteous voice +of old Mr. Fordyce. In a moment more they were all in the house, +the old gentleman giving his arm to his daughter-in-law, who was quite +overcome with distress and alarm; then came his tall, slim granddaughter, +carrying her little sister with arms full of dolls, and sundry maid-servants +completed the party of fugitives.</p> +<p>‘We are taking advantage of Mr. Winslow’s goodness,’ +said the old Rector. ‘He assured us that you would be kind +enough to receive those who would only be an encumbrance.’</p> +<p>‘Oh, but I must go back to Frank now that you and the children +are safe,’ cried the poor lady. ‘Don’t send +away the carriage; I must go back to Frank.’</p> +<p>‘Nonsense, my dear,’ returned Mr. Fordyce, ‘Frank +is in no danger. He will get on much better for knowing you are +safe. Mrs. Winslow will tell you so.’</p> +<p>My mother was enforcing this assurance, when the little girl’s +sobs burst out in spite of her sister, who had been trying to console +her. ‘It is Celestina Mary,’ she cried, pointing to +three dolls whom she had carried in clasped to her breast. ‘Poor +Celestina Mary! She is left behind, and Ellen won’t let +me go and see if she is in the carriage.’</p> +<p>‘My dear, if she is in the carriage, she will be quite safe +in the morning.’</p> +<p>‘Oh, but she will be so cold. She had nothing on but +Rosella’s old petticoat.’</p> +<p>The distress was so real that I had my hand on the bell to cause +a search to be instituted for the missing damsel, when Mrs. Fordyce +begged me to do no such thing, as it was only a doll. The child, +while endeavouring to shelter with a shawl the dolls, snatched in their +night-gear from their beds, wept so piteously at the rebuff that her +grandfather had nearly gone in quest of the lost one, but was stopped +by a special entreaty that he would not spoil the child. Martyn, +however, who had been standing in open-mouthed wonder at such feeling +for a doll, exclaimed, ‘Don’t cry, don’t cry. +I’ll go and get it for you;’ and rushed off to the stable-yard.</p> +<p>This episode had restored Mrs. Fordyce, and while providing some +of our guests with wine, and others with tea, we heard the story, only +interrupted by Martyn’s return from a vain search, and Anne’s +consequent tears, which, however, were somehow hushed and smothered +by fears of being sent to bed, coupled with his promises to search every +step of the way to-morrow.</p> +<p>It appeared that while the Fordyce family were at dinner, shouts, +howls and yells had startled them. The rabble had surrounded the +Rectory, bawling out abuse of the parsons and their machines, and occasionally +throwing stones. There was no help to be expected; the only hope +was in the strength of the doors and windows, and the knowledge that +personal violence was very uncommon; but those were terrible moments, +and poor Mrs. Fordyce was nearly dead with suppressed terror when her +husband tried haranguing from an upper window, and was received with +execrations and a volley of stones, while the glass crashed round him.</p> +<p>At that instant the shouts turned to yells of dismay, ‘The +so’diers! the so’diers!’</p> +<p>Our party had found everything still and dark in the village, for +in truth the men had hidden themselves. They were being too much +attached to their masters to join in the attack, but were afraid of +being compelled to assist the rioters, and not resolute enough against +their own class either to inform against them or oppose them.</p> +<p>Through the midnight-like stillness of the street rose the tumult +around the Rectory; and by the light of a few lanterns, and from the +upper windows, they could see a mass of old hats, smock-frocked shoulders, +and the tops of bludgeons; while at soonest, Sir George Eastwood’s +troop could not be expected for an hour or more.</p> +<p>‘We must get to them somehow,’ said my father and Griff +to one another; and Griff added, ‘These rascals are arrant cowards, +and they can’t see the number of us.’</p> +<p>Then, before my father knew what he was about - certainly before +he could get hold of the Riot Act - he found the stable lantern made +over to him, and Griff’s sword flashing in light, as, making all +possible clatter and jingling with their accoutrements, the two yeomen +dashed among the throng, shouting with all their might, and striking +with the flat of their swords. The rioters, ill-fed, dull-hearted +men for the most part - many dragged out by compulsion, and already +terrified - went tumbling over one another and running off headlong, +bearing off with them (as we afterwards learnt) their leaders by their +weight, taking the blows and pushes they gave one another in their pell-mell +rush for those of the soldiery, and falling blindly against the low +wall of the enclosure. The only difficulty was in clearing them +out at the two gates of the drive.</p> +<p>When Mr. Fordyce opened the door to hail his rescuers he was utterly +amazed to behold only three, and asked in a bewildered voice, ‘Where +are the others?’</p> +<p>There were two prisoners, Petty the ratcatcher, who had attempted +some resistance and had been knocked down by Griff’s horse, and +a young lad in a smock-frock who had fallen off the wall and hurt his +knee, and who blubbered piteously, declaring that them chaps had forced +him to go with them, or they would duck him in the horse-pond. +They were supposed to be given in charge to some one, but were lost +sight of, and no wonder! For just then it was discovered that +the machine shed was on fire. The rioters had apparently detached +one of their number to kindle the flame before assaulting the house. +The matter was specially serious, because the stackyard was on a line +with the Rectory, at some distance indeed, but on lower ground; and +what with barns, hay and wheat ricks, sheds, cowhouses and stables, +all thatched, a big wood-pile, and a long old-fashioned greenhouse, +there was almost continuous communication. Clouds of smoke and +an ominous smell were already perceptible on the wind, generated by +the heat, and the loose straw in the centre of the farmyard was beginning +to be ignited by the flakes and sparks, carrying the mischief everywhere, +and rendering it exceedingly difficult to release the animals and drive +them to a place of safety. Water was scarce. There were +only two wells, besides the pump in the house, and a shallow pond. +The brook was a quarter of a mile off in the valley, and the nearest +engine, a poor feeble thing, at Wattlesea. Moreover, the assailants +might discover how small was the force of rescuers, and return to the +attack. Thus, while Griff, who had given amateur assistance at +all the fires he could reach in London; was striving to organise resistance +to this new enemy, my father induced the gentlemen to cause the horses +to be put to the various vehicles, and employ them in carrying the women +and children to Chantry House. The old Rector was persuaded to +go to take care of his daughter-in-law, and she only thought of putting +her girls in safety. She listened to reason, and indeed was too +much exhausted to move when once she was laid on the sofa. She +would not hear of going to bed, though her little daughter Anne was +sent off with her nurse, grandpapa persuading her that Rosella and the +others were very much tired. When she was gone, he declared his +fears that he had sat down on Celestina’s head, and showed so +much compunction that we were much amused at his relief when Martyn +assured him of having searched the carriage with a stable lantern, so +that whatever had befallen the lady he was not the guilty person. +He really seemed more concerned about this than at the loss of all his +own barns and stores. And little Anne was certainly as lovely +and engaging a little creature as ever I saw; while, as to her elder +sister, in all the trouble and anxiety of the night, I could not help +enjoying the sight of her beautiful eager face and form. She was +tall and very slight, sylph-like, as it was the fashion to call it, +but every limb was instinct with grace and animation. Her face +was, perhaps, rather too thin for robust health, though this enhanced +the idea of her being all spirit, as also did the transparency of complexion, +tinted with an exquisite varying carnation. Her eyes were of a +clear, bright, rather light brown, and were sparkling with the lustre +of excitement, her delicate lips parted, showing the pretty pearly teeth, +as she was telling Emily, in a low voice of enthusiasm, scarcely designed +for my ears, how glorious a sight our brother had been, riding there +in his glancing silver, bearing down all before him with his good sword, +like the Captal de Buch dispersing the Jacquerie.</p> +<p>To which Emily responded, ‘Oh, don’t you love the Captal +de Buch?’ And their friendship was cemented.</p> +<p>Next I heard, ‘And that you should have been so good after +all my rudeness. But I thought you were like the old Winslows; +and instead of that you have come to the rescue of your enemies. +Isn’t it beautiful?’</p> +<p>‘Oh no, not enemies,’ said Emily. ‘That was +all over a hundred years ago!’</p> +<p>‘So my papa and grandpapa say,’ returned Miss Fordyce; +‘but the last Mr. Winslow was not a very nice man, and never would +be civil to us.’</p> +<p>A report was brought that the glare of the fire could be seen over +the hill from the top of the house, and off went the two young ladies +to the leads, after satisfying themselves that Anne was asleep among +her homeless dolls.</p> +<p>Old Mr. Fordyce devoted himself to keeping up the spirits of his +daughter-in-law as the night advanced without any tidings, except that +the girls, from time to time, rushed down to tell us of fresh outbursts +of red flame reflected in the sky, then that the glow was diminishing; +by which time they were tired out, and, both sinking into a big armchair, +they went to sleep in each other’s arms. Indeed I believe +we all dozed more or less before any one returned from the scene of +action - at about three o’clock.</p> +<p>The struggle with the flames had been very unequal. The long +tongues soon reached the roof of the large barn, which was filled with +straw, nor could the flakes of burning thatch be kept from the stable, +while the water of the pond was soon reduced to mud. Helpers began +to flock in, but who could tell which were trustworthy? and all were +uncomprehending.</p> +<p>There was so little hope of saving the house that the removal of +everything valuable was begun under my father’s superintendence. +Frank Fordyce was here, there, and everywhere; while Griffith, like +a gallant general, fought the foe with very helpless unmanageable forces. +Villagers, male and female, had emerged and stood gaping round; but, +let him rage and storm as he might, they would not go and collect pails +and buckets and form a line to the brook. Still less would they +assist in overthrowing and carrying away the faggots of a big wood-pile +so as to cut off the communication with the offices. Only Chapman +and one other man gave any help in this; and presently the stack caught, +and Griff, on the top, was in great peril of the faggots rolling down +with him into the middle, and imprisoning him in the blazing pile. +‘I never felt so like Dido,’ said Griff.</p> +<p>That woodstack gave fearful aliment to the roaring flame, which came +on so fast that the destruction of the adjoining buildings quickly followed. +The Wattlesea engine had come, but the yard well was unattainable, and +all that could be done was to saturate the house with water from its +own well, and cover the side with wet blankets; but these reeked with +steam, and then shrivelled away in the intense glow of heat.</p> +<p>However, by this time the Eastwood Yeomanry, together with some reasonable +men, had arrived. A raid was made on the cottages for buckets, +a chain formed to the river, and at last the fire was got under, having +made a wreck of everything out-of-doors, and consumed one whole wing +of the house, though the older and more esteemed portion was saved.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII - THE PORTRAIT</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘When day was gone and night was come,<br /> And +all men fast asleep,<br />There came the spirit of fair Marg’ret<br /> And +stood at William’s feet.’</p> +<p><i>Scotch Ballad.</i></p> +<p>When I emerged from my room the next morning the phaeton was at the +door to take the two clergymen to reconnoitre their abode before going +to church. Miss Fordyce went with them, and my father was for +once about to leave his parish church to give them his sympathy, and +join in their thanksgiving that neither life nor limb had been injured. +He afterwards said that nothing could have been more touching than old +Mr. Fordyce’s manner of mentioning this special cause for gratitude +before the General Thanksgiving; and Frank Fordyce, having had all his +sermons burnt, gave a short address extempore (a very rare and almost +shocking thing at that date), reducing half the congregation to tears, +for they really loved ‘the fam’ly,’ though they had +not spirit enough to defend it; and their passiveness always remained +a subject of pride and pleasure to the Fordyces. It was against +the will of these good people that Petty, the ratcatcher, was arrested, +but he had been engaged in other outrages, though this was the only +one in which a dwelling-house had suffered. And Chapman observed +that ‘there was nothing to be done with such chaps but to string +’em up out of the way.’</p> +<p>Griff had toiled that night till he was as stiff as a rheumatic old +man when he came down only just in time for luncheon. Mrs. Fordyce +did not appear at all. She was a fragile creature, and quite knocked +up by the agitations of the night. The gentlemen had visited the +desolate rectory, and found that though the fine ancient kitchen had +escaped, the pleasant living rooms had been injured by the water, and +the place could hardly be made habitable before the spring. They +proposed to take a house in Bath, whence Frank Fordyce could go and +come for Sunday duty and general superintendence, but my parents were +urgent that they should not leave us until after Christmas, and they +consented. Their larger possessions were to be stored in the outhouses, +their lesser in our house, notably in the inner mullion chamber, which +would thus be so blocked that there would be no question of sleeping +in it.</p> +<p>Old Mr. Fordyce had ascertained that he might acquit himself of smashing +Celestina Mary, for no remains appeared in the carriage; but a miserable +trunk was discovered in the ruins, which he identified - though surely +no one else save the disconsolate parent could have done so. Poor +little Anne’s private possessions had suffered most severely of +all, for her whole nursery establishment had vanished. Her surviving +dolls were left homeless, and devoid of all save their night-clothing, +which concerned her much more than the loss of almost all her own garments. +For what dolls were to her could never have been guessed by us, who +had forced Emily to disdain them; whereas they were children to the +maternal heart of this lonely child.</p> +<p>She was quite a new revelation to us. All the Fordyces were +handsome; and her chestnut curls and splendid eyes, her pretty colour +and unconscious grace, were very charming. Emily was so near our +own age that we had never known the winsomeness of a little maid-child +amongst us, and she was a perpetual wonder and delight to us.</p> +<p>Indeed, from having always lived with her elders, she was an odd +little old-fashioned person, advanced in some ways, and comically simple +in others. Her doll-heart was kept in abeyance all Sunday, and +it was only on Monday that her anxiety for Celestina manifested itself +with considerable vehemence; but her grandfather gravely informed her +that the young lady was gone to an excellent doctor, who would soon +effect a cure. The which was quite true, for he had sent her to +a toy-shop by one of the maids who had gone to restore the ravage on +the wardrobes, and who brought her back with a new head and arms, her +identity apparently not being thus interfered with. The hoards +of scraps were put under requisition to re-clothe the survivors; and +I won my first step in Miss Anne’s good graces by undertaking +a knitted suit for Rosella.</p> +<p>The good little girl had evidently been schooled to repress her dread +and repugnance at my unlucky appearance, and was painfully polite, only +shutting her eyes when she came to shake hands with me; but after Rosella +condescended to adopt me, we became excellent friends. Indeed +the following conversation was overheard by Emily, and set down:</p> +<p>‘Do you know, Martyn, there’s a fairies’ ring on +Hillside Down?’</p> +<p>‘Mushrooms,’ quoth Martyn.</p> +<p>‘Yes, don’t you know? They are the fairies’ +tables. They come out and spread them with lily tablecloths at +night, and have acorn cups for dishes, with honey in them. And +they dance and play there. Well, couldn’t Mr. Edward go +and sit under the beech-tree at the edge till they come?’</p> +<p>‘I don’t think he would like it at all,’ said Martyn. +‘He never goes out at odd times.’</p> +<p>‘Oh, but don’t you know? when they come they begin to +sing -</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘“Sunday and Monday,<br />Monday and Tuesday.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>And if he was to sing nicely,</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘“Wednesday and Thursday,”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>they would be so much pleased that they would make his back straight +again in a moment. At least, perhaps Wednesday and Thursday would +not do, because the little tailor taught them those; but Friday makes +them angry. But suppose he made some nice verse -</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘“Monday and Tuesday<br />The fairies are gay,<br />Tuesday +and Wednesday<br />They dance away - ”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>I think that would do as well, perhaps. Do get him to do so, +Martyn. It would be so nice if he was tall and straight.’</p> +<p>Dear little thing! Martyn, who was as much her slave as was +her grandfather, absolutely made her shed tears over his history of +our accident, and then caressed them off; but I believe he persuaded +her that such a case might be beyond the fairies’ reach, and that +I could hardly get to the spot in secret, which, it seems, is an essential +point. He had imagination enough to be almost persuaded of fairyland +by her earnestness, and she certainly took him into doll-land. +He had a turn for carpentry and contrivance, and he undertook that the +Ladies Rosella, etc., should be better housed than ever. A great +packing-case was routed out, and much ingenuity was expended, much delight +obtained, in the process of converting it into a doll’s mansion, +and replenishing it with furniture. Some was bought, but Martyn +aspired to make whatever he could; I did a good deal, and I believe +most of our achievements are still extant. Whatever we could not +manage, Clarence was to accomplish when he should come home.</p> +<p>His arrival was, as usual, late in the evening; and, as before, he +had the little room within mine. In the morning, as we were crossing +the hall to the bright wood fire, around which the family were wont +to assemble before prayers, he came to a pause, asking under his breath, +‘What’s that? Who’s that?’</p> +<p>‘It is one of the Hillside pictures. You know we have +a great many things here from thence.’</p> +<p>‘It is <i>she</i>,’ he said, in a low, awe-stricken voice. +No need to say who <i>she</i> meant.</p> +<p>I had not paid much attention to the picture. It had come with +several more, such as are rife in country houses, and was one of the +worst of the lot, a poor imitation of Lely’s style, with a certain +air common to all the family; but Clarence’s eyes were riveted +on it. ‘She looks younger,’ he said; ‘but it +is the same. I could swear to the lip and the whole shape of the +brow and chin. No - the dress is different.’</p> +<p>For in the portrait, there was nothing on the head, and one long +lock of hair fell on the shoulder of the low-cut white-satin dress, +done in very heavy gray shading. The three girls came down together, +and I asked who the lady was.</p> +<p>‘Don’t you know? You ought; for that is poor Margaret +who married your ancestor.’</p> +<p>No more was said then, for the rest of the world was collecting, +and then everybody went out their several ways. Some tin tacks +were wanted for the dolls’ house, and there were reports that +Wattlesea possessed a doll’s grate and fire-irons. The children +were wild to go in quest of them, but they were not allowed to go alone, +and it was pronounced too far and too damp for the elder sister, so +that they would have been disappointed, if Clarence - stimulated by +Martyn’s kicks under the table - had not offered to be their escort. +When Mrs. Fordyce demurred, my mother replied, ‘You may perfectly +trust her with Clarence.’</p> +<p>‘Yes; I don’t know a safer squire,’ rejoined my +father.</p> +<p>Commendation was so rare that Clarence quite blushed with pleasure; +and the pretty little thing was given into his charge, prancing and +dancing with pleasure, and expecting much more from sixpence and from +Wattlesea than was likely to be fulfilled.</p> +<p>Griff went out shooting, and the two young ladies and I intended +to spend a very rational morning in the bookroom, reading aloud Mme. +de La Rochejaquelein’s <i>Memoirs</i> by turns. Our occupations +were, on Emily’s part, completing a reticule, in a mosaic of shaded +coloured beads no bigger than pins’ heads, for a Christmas gift +to mamma - a most wearisome business, of which she had grown extremely +tired. Miss Fordyce was elaborately copying our Müller’s +print of Raffaelle’s St. John in pencil on cardboard, so as to +be as near as possible a facsimile; and she had trusted me to make a +finished water-coloured drawing from a rough sketch of hers of the Hillside +barn and farm-buildings, now no more.</p> +<p>In a pause Ellen Fordyce suddenly asked, ‘What did you mean +about that picture?’</p> +<p>‘Only Clarence said it was like - ’ and here Emily came +to a dead stop.</p> +<p>‘Grandpapa says it is like me,’ said Miss Fordyce. +‘What, you don’t mean <i>that</i>? Oh! oh! oh! is +it true? Does she walk? Have you seen her? Mamma calls +it all nonsense, and would not have Anne hear of it for anything; but +old Aunt Peggy used to tell me, and I am sure grandpapa believes it, +just a little. Have you seen her?’</p> +<p>‘Only Clarence has, and he knew the picture directly.’</p> +<p>She was much impressed, and on slight persuasion related the story, +which she had heard from an elder sister of her grandfather’s, +and which had perhaps been the more impressed on her by her mother’s +consternation at ‘such folly’ having been communicated to +her. Aunt Peggy, who was much older than her brother, had died +only four years ago, at eighty-eight, having kept her faculties to the +last, and handed down many traditions to her great-niece. The +old lady’s father had been contemporary with the Margaret of ghostly +fame, so that the stages had been few through which it had come down +from 1708 to 1830.</p> +<p>I wrote it down at once, as it here stands.</p> +<p>Margaret was the only daughter of the elder branch of the Fordyces. +Her father had intended her to marry her cousin, the male heir on whom +the Hillside estates and the advowson of that living were entailed; +but before the contract had been formally made, the father was killed +by accident, and through some folly and ambition of her mother’s +(such seemed to be the Fordyce belief), the poor heiress was married +to Sir James Winslow, one of the successful intriguers of the days of +the later Stewarts, and with a family nearly as old, if not older, than +herself. Her own children died almost at their birth, and she +was left a young widow. Being meek and gentle, her step-sons and +daughters still ruled over Chantry House. They prevented her Hillside +relations from having access to her whilst in a languishing state of +health, and when she died unexpectedly, she was found to have bequeathed +all her property to her step-son, Philip Winslow, instead of to her +blood relations, the Fordyces.</p> +<p>This was certain, but the Fordyce tradition was that she had been +kept shut up in the mullion chambers, where she had often been heard +weeping bitterly. One night in the winter, when the gentlemen +of the family had gone out to a Christmas carousal, she had endeavoured +to escape by the steps leading to the garden from the door now bricked +up, but had been met by them and dragged back with violence, of which +she died in the course of a few days; and, what was very suspicious, +she had been entirely attended by her step-daughter and an old nurse, +who never would let her own woman come near her.</p> +<p>The Fordyces had thought of a prosecution, but the Winslows had powerful +interest at Court in those corrupt times, and contrived to hush up the +matter, as well as to win the suit in which the Fordyces attempted to +prove that there was no right to will the property away. Bitter +enmity remained between the families; they were always opposed in politics, +and their animosity was fed by the belief which arose that at the anniversaries +of her death the poor lady haunted the rooms, lamp in hand, wailing +and lamenting. A duel had been fought on the subject between the +heirs of the two families, resulting in the death of the young Winslow.</p> +<p>‘And now,’ cried Ellen Fordyce, ‘the feud is so +beautifully ended; the doom must be appeased, now that the head of one +hostile line has come to the rescue of the other, and saved all our +lives.’</p> +<p>My suggestion that these would hardly have been destroyed, even without +our interposition, fell very flat, for romance must have its swing. +Ellen told us how, on the news of our kinsman’s death and our +inheritance, the ancestral story had been discussed, and her grandfather +had said he believed there were letters about it in the iron deed-box, +and how he hoped to be on better terms with the new heir.</p> +<p>The ghost story had always been hushed up in the family, especially +since the duel, and we all knew the resemblance of the picture would +be scouted by our elders; but perhaps this gave us the more pleasure +in dwelling upon it, while we agreed that poor Margaret ought to be +appeased by Griffith’s prowess on behalf of the Fordyces.</p> +<p>The two young ladies went off to inspect the mullion chamber, which +they found so crammed with Hillside furniture that they could scarcely +enter, and returned disappointed, except for having inspected and admired +all Griff’s weapons, especially what Miss Fordyce called the sword +of her rescue.</p> +<p>She had been learning German - rather an unusual study in those days, +and she narrated to us most effectively the story of <i>Die Weisse Frau</i>, +working herself up to such a pitch that she would have actually volunteered +to spend a night in the room, to see whether Margaret would hold any +communication with a descendant, after the example of the White Woman +and Lady Bertha, if there had been either fire or accommodation, and +if the only entrance had not been through Griff’s private sitting-room.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX - THE WHITE FEATHER</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘The white doe’s milk is not out of his mouth.’</p> +<p>SCOTT.</p> +<p>Clarence had come home free from all blots. His summer holiday +had been prevented by the illness of one of the other clerks, whose +place, Mr. Castleford wrote, he had so well supplied that ere long he +would be sure to earn his promotion. That kind friend had several +times taken him to spend a Sunday in the country, and, as we afterwards +had reason to think, would have taken more notice of him but for the +rooted belief of Mr. Frith that it was a case of favouritism, and that +piety and strictness were assumed to throw dust in the eyes of his patron.</p> +<p>Such distrust had tended to render Clarence more reserved than ever, +and it was quite by the accident of finding him studying one of Mrs. +Trimmer’s Manuals that I discovered that, at the request of his +good Rector, he had become a Sunday-school teacher, and was as much +interested as the enthusiastic girls; but I was immediately forbidden +to utter a word on the subject, even to Emily, lest she should tell +any one.</p> +<p>Such reserve was no doubt an outcome of his natural timidity. +He had to bear a certain amount of scorn and derision among some of +his fellow-clerks for the stricter habits and observances that could +not be concealed, and he dreaded any fresh revelation of them, partly +because of the cruel imputation of hypocrisy, partly because he feared +the bringing a scandal on religion by his weakness and failures.</p> +<p>Nor did our lady visitors’ ways reassure him, though they meant +to be kind. They could not help being formal and stiff, not as +they were with Griff and me. The two gentlemen were thoroughly +friendly and hearty; Parson Frank could hardly have helped being so +towards any one in the same house with himself; and as to little Anne, +she found in the new-comer a carpenter and upholsterer superior even +to Martyn; but her candour revealed a great deal which I overheard one +afternoon, when the two children were sitting together on the hearth-rug +in the bookroom in the twilight.</p> +<p>‘I want to see Mr. Clarence’s white feather,’ observed +Anne.</p> +<p>‘Griff has a white plume in his Yeomanry helmet,’ replied +Martyn; ‘Clarence hasn’t one.’</p> +<p>‘Oh, I saw Mr. Griffith’s!’ she answered; ‘but +Cousin Horace said Mr. Clarence showed the white feather.’</p> +<p>‘Cousin Horace is an ape!’ cried Martyn.</p> +<p>‘I don’t think he is so nice as an ape,’ said Anne. +‘He is more like a monkey. He tries the dolls by court-martial, +and he shot Arabella with a pea-shooter, and broke her eye; only grandpapa +made him have it put in again with his own money, and then he said I +was a little sneak, and if I ever did it again he would shoot me.’</p> +<p>‘Mind you don’t tell Clarence what he said,’ said +Martyn.</p> +<p>‘Oh, no! I think Mr. Clarence very nice indeed; but Horace +did tease so about that day when he carried poor Amos Bell home. +He said Ellen had gone and made friends with the worst of all the wicked +Winslows, who had shown the white feather and disgraced his flag. +No; I know you are not wicked. And Mr. Griff came all glittering, +like Richard Cœur de Lion, and saved us all that night. +But Ellen cried to think what she had done, and mamma said it showed +what it was to speak to a strange young man; and she has never let Ellen +and me go out of the grounds by ourselves since that day.’</p> +<p>‘It is a horrid shame,’ exclaimed Martyn, ‘that +a fellow can’t get into a scrape without its being for ever cast +up to him.’</p> +<p>‘<i>I</i> like him,’ said Anne. ‘He gave +Mary Bell a nice pair of boots, and he made a new pair of legs for poor +old Arabella, and she can really sit down! Oh, he is <i>very</i> +nice; but’ - in an awful whisper - ‘does he tell stories? +I mean fibs - falsehoods.’</p> +<p>‘Who told you that?’ exclaimed Martyn.</p> +<p>‘Mamma said it. Ellen was telling them something about +the picture of the white-satin lady, and mamma said, “Oh, if it +is only that young man, no doubt it is a mere mystification;” +and papa said, “Poor young fellow, he seems very amiable and well +disposed;” and mamma said, “If he can invent such a story +it shows that Horace was right, and he is not to be believed.” +Then they stopped, but I asked Ellen who it was, and she said it was +Mr. Clarence, and it was a sad thing for Emily and all of you to have +such a brother.’</p> +<p>Martyn began to stammer with indignation, and I thought it time to +interfere; so I called the little maid, and gravely explained the facts, +adding that poor Clarence’s punishment had been terrible, but +that he was doing his best to make up for what was past; and that, as +to anything he might have told, though he might be mistaken, he never +said anything <i>now</i> but what he believed to be true. She +raised her brown eyes to mine full of gravity, and said, ‘I <i>do</i> +like him.’ Moreover, I privately made Martyn understand +that if he told her what had been said about the white-satin lady, he +would never be forgiven; the others would be sure to find it out, and +it might shorten their stay.</p> +<p>That was a dreadful idea, for the presence of those two creatures, +to say nothing of their parents, was an unspeakable charm and novelty +to us all. We all worshipped the elder, and the little one was +like a new discovery and toy to us, who had never been used to such +a presence. She was not a commonplace child; but even if she had +been, she would have been as charming a study as a kitten; and she had +all the four of us at her feet, though her mother was constantly protesting +against our spoiling her, and really kept up so much wholesome discipline +that the little maid never exceeded the bounds of being charming to +us. After that explanation there was the same sweet wistful gentleness +in her manner towards Clarence as she showed to me; while he, who never +dreamt of such a child knowing his history was brighter and freer with +her than with any one else, played with her and Martyn, and could be +heard laughing merrily with them. Perhaps her mother and sister +did not fully like this, but they could not interfere before our faces. +And Parson Frank was really kind to him; took him out walking when going +to Hillside, and talked to him so as to draw him out; certifying, perhaps, +that he would do no harm, although, indeed, the family looked on dear +good Frank as a sort of boy, too kind-hearted and genial for his approval +to be worth as much as that of the more severe.</p> +<p>These were our only Christmas visitors, for the state of the country +did not invite Londoners; but we did not want them. The suppression +of Clarence was the only flaw in a singularly happy time; and, after +all I believe I felt the pity of it more than he did, who expected nothing, +and was accustomed to being in the background.</p> +<p>For instance, one afternoon in the course of one of the grave discussions +that used to grow up between Miss Fordyce, Emily, and me, over subjects +trite to the better-instructed younger generation, we got quite out +of our shallow depths. I think it was on the meaning of the ‘Communion +of Saints,’ for the two girls were both reading in preparation +for a Confirmation at Bristol, and Miss Fordyce knew more than we did +on these subjects. All the time Clarence had sat in the window, +carving a bit of doll’s furniture, and quite forgotten; but at +night he showed me the exposition copied from <i>Pearson on the Creed</i>, +a bit of Hooker, and extracts from one or two sermons. I found +these were notes written out in a blank book, which he had had in hand +ever since his Confirmation - his logbook as he called it; but he would +not hear of their being mentioned even to Emily, and only consented +to hunt up the books on condition I would not bring him forward as the +finder. It was of no use to urge that it was a deprivation to +us all that he should not aid us with his more thorough knowledge and +deeper thought. ‘He could not do so,’ he said, in +a quiet decisive manner; ‘it was enough for him to watch and listen +to Miss Fordyce, when she could forget his presence.’</p> +<p>She often did forget it in her eagerness. She was by nature +one of the most ardent beings that I ever saw, yet with enthusiasm kept +in check by the self-control inculcated as a primary duty. It +would kindle in those wonderful light brown eyes, glow in the clear +delicate cheek, quiver in the voice even when the words were only half +adequate to the feeling. She was not what is now called gushing. +Oh, no! not in the least! She was too reticent and had too much +dignity for anything of the kind. Emily had always been reckoned +as our romantic young lady, and teased accordingly, but her enthusiasm +beside Ellen’s was</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘As moonlight is to sunlight, as water is to wine,’ -</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>a mere reflection of the tone of the period, compared with a real +element in the character. At least so my sister tells me, though +at the time all the difference I saw was that Miss Fordyce had the most +originality, and unconsciously became the leader. The bookroom +was given up to us, and there in the morning we drew, worked, read, +copied and practised music, wrote out extracts, and delivered our youthful +minds to one another on all imaginable topics from ‘slea silk +to predestination.’</p> +<p>Religious subjects occupied us more than might have been held likely. +A spirit of reflection and revival was silently working in many a heart. +Evangelicalism had stirred old-fashioned orthodoxy, and we felt its +action. The <i>Christian Year</i> was Ellen’s guiding star +- as it was ours, nay, doubly so in proportion to the ardour of her +nature. Certain poems are dearer and more eloquent to me still, +because the verses recall to me the thrill of her sweet tones as she +repeated them. We were all very ignorant alike of Church doctrine +and history, but talking out and comparing our discoveries and impressions +was as useful as it was pleasant to us.</p> +<p>What the <i>Christian Year</i> was in religion to us Scott was in +history. We read to verify or illustrate him, and we had little +raving fits over his characters, and jokes founded on them. Indeed, +Ellen saw life almost through that medium; and the siege of Hillside, +dispersed by the splendid prowess of Griffith, the champion with silver +helm and flashing sword, was precious to her as a renewal of the days +of Ivanhoe or Damian de Lacy.</p> +<p>As may be believed, these quiet mornings were those when that true +knight was employed in field sports or yeomanry duties, such as the +state of the country called for. When he was at home, all was +fun and merriment and noise - walks and rides on fine days, battledore +and shuttlecock on wet ones, music, singing, paper games, giggling and +making giggle, and sometimes dancing in the hall - Mr. Frank Fordyce +joining with all his heart and drollery in many of these, like the boy +he was.</p> +<p>I could play quadrilles and country dances, and now and then a reel +- nobody thought of waltzes - and the three couples changed and counterchanged +partners. Clarence had the sailor’s foot, and did his part +when needed; Emily generally fell to his share, and their silence and +gravity contrasted with the mirth of the other pairs. He knew +very well he was the <i>pis aller</i> of the party, and only danced +when Parson Frank was not dragged out, nothing loth, by his little daughter. +With Miss Fordyce, Clarence never had the chance of dancing; she was +always claimed by Griff, or pounced upon by Martyn.</p> +<p>Miss Fordyce she always was to us in those days, and those pretty +lips scrupulously ‘Mistered’ and ‘Winslowed’ +us. I don’t think she would have been more to us, if we +had called her Nell, and had been Griff, Bill, and Ted to her, or if +there had not been all the little formalities of avoiding tête +à têtes and the like. They were essentials of propriety +then - natural, and never viewed as prudish. Nor did it detract +from the sweet dignity of maidenhood that there was none of the familiarity +which breeds something one would rather not mention in conjunction with +a lady.</p> +<p>Altogether there was a sunshine around Miss Fordyce by which we all +seemed illuminated, even the least favoured and least demonstrative; +we were all her willing slaves, and thought her smile and thanks full +reward.</p> +<p>One day, when Griff and Martyn were assisting at the turn out of +an isolated barn at Hillside, where Frank Fordyce declared, all the +burnt-out rats and mice had taken refuge, the young ladies went out +to cater for house decorations for Christmas under Clarence’s +escort. Nobody but the clerk ever thought of touching the church, +where there were holes in all the pews to receive the holly boughs.</p> +<p>The girls came back, telling in eager scared voices how, while gathering +butcher’s broom in Farmer Hodges’ home copse, a savage dog +had flown out at them, but had been kept at bay by Mr. Clarence Winslow +with an umbrella, while they escaped over the stile.</p> +<p>Clarence had not come into the drawing-room with them, and while +my mother, who had a great objection to people standing about in out-door +garments, sent them up to doff their bonnets and furs, I repaired to +our room, and was horrified to find him on my bed, white and faint.</p> +<p>‘Bitten?’ I cried in dismay.</p> +<p>‘Yes; but not much. Only I’m such a fool. +I turned off when I began taking off my boots. No, no - don’t! +Don’t call any one. It is nothing!’</p> +<p>He was springing up to stop me, but was forced to drop back, and +I made my way to the drawing-room, where my mother happened to be alone. +She was much alarmed, but a glass of wine restored Clarence; and inspection +showed that the thick trowser and winter stocking had so protected him +that little blood had been drawn, and there was bruise rather than bite +in the calf of the leg, where the brute had caught him as he was getting +over the stile as the rear-guard. It was painful, though the faintness +was chiefly from tension of nerve, for he had kept behind all the way +home, and no one had guessed at the hurt. My mother doctored it +tenderly, and he begged that nothing should be said about it; he wanted +no fuss about such a trifle. My mother agreed, with the proud +feeling of not enhancing the obligations of the Fordyce family; but +she absolutely kissed Clarence’s forehead as she bade him lie +quiet till dinner-time.</p> +<p>We kept silence at table while the girls described the horrors of +the monster. ‘A tawny creature, with a hideous black muzzle,’ +said Emily. ‘Like a bad dream,’ said Miss Fordyce. +The two fathers expressed their intention of remonstrating with the +farmer, and Griff declared that it would be lucky if he did not shoot +it. Miss Fordyce generously took its part, saying the poor dog +was doing its duty, and Griff ejaculated, ‘If I had been there!’</p> +<p>‘It would not have dared to show its teeth, eh?’ said +my father, when there was a good deal of banter.</p> +<p>My father, however, came at night with mamma to inspect the hurt +and ask details, and he ended with, ‘Well done, Clarence, boy; +I am gratified to see you are acquiring presence of mind, and can act +like a man.’</p> +<p>Clarence smiled when they were gone, saying, ‘That would have +been an insult to any one else.’</p> +<p>Emily perceived that he had not come off unscathed, and was much +aggrieved at being bound to silence. ‘Well,’ she broke +out, ‘if the dog goes mad, and Clarence has the hydrophobia, I +suppose I may tell.’</p> +<p>‘In that pleasing contingency,’ said Clarence smiling. +‘Don’t you see, Emily, it is the worst compliment you can +pay me not to treat this as a matter of course?’ Still, +he was the happier for not having failed. Whatever strengthened +his self-respect and gave him trust in himself was a stepping-stone.</p> +<p>As to rivalry or competition with Griff, the idea seemingly never +crossed his mind, and envy or jealousy were equally aloof from it. +One subject of thankfulness runs through these recollections - namely, +that nothing broke the tie of strong affection between us three brothers. +Griffith might figure as the ‘vary parfite knight,’ the +St. George of the piece, glittering in the halo shed round him by the +bright eyes of the rescued damsel; while Clarence might drag himself +along as the poor recreant to be contemned and tolerated, and he would +accept the position meekly as only his desert, without a thought of +bitterness. Indeed, he himself seemed to have imbibed Nurse Gooch’s +original opinion, that his genuine love for sacred things was a sort +of impertinence and pretension in such as he - a kind of hypocrisy even +when they were the realities and helps to which he clung with all his +heart. Still, this depression was only shown by reserve, and troubled +no one save myself, who knew him best guessed what was lost by his silence, +and burned in spirit at seeing him merely endured as one unworthy.</p> +<p>In one of our varieties of Waverley discussions the crystal hardness +and inexperienced intolerance of youth made Miss Fordyce declare that +had she been Edith Plantagenet, she would never, never have forgiven +Sir Kenneth. ‘How could she, when he had forsaken the king’s +banner? Unpardonable!’</p> +<p>Then came a sudden, awful silence, as she recollected her audience, +and blushed crimson with the misery of perceiving where her random shaft +had struck, nor did either of us know what to say; but to our surprise +it was Clarence who first spoke to relieve the desperate embarrassment. +‘Is forgiven quite the right word, when the offence was not personal? +I know that such things can neither be repaired nor overlooked, and +I think that is what Miss Fordyce meant.’</p> +<p>‘Oh, Mr. Winslow,’ she exclaimed, ‘I am very sorry +- I don’t think I quite meant’ - and then, as her eyes for +one moment fell on his subdued face, she added, ‘No, I said what +I ought not. If there is sorrow’ - her voice trembled - +‘and pardon above, no one below has any right to say unpardonable.’</p> +<p>Clarence bowed his head, and his lips framed, but he did not utter, +‘Thank you.’ Emily nervously began reading aloud the +page before her, full of the jingling recurring rhymes about Sir Thomas +of Kent; but I saw Ellen surreptitiously wipe away a tear, and from +that time she was more kind and friendly with Clarence.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XX - VENI, VIDI, VICI</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘None but the brave,<br />None but the brave,<br />None but +the brave deserve the fair.’</p> +<p><i>Song.</i></p> +<p>Christmas trees were not yet heard of beyond the Fatherland, and +both the mothers held that Christmas parties were not good for little +children, since Mrs. Winslow’s strong common sense had arrived +at the same conclusion as Mrs. Fordyce had derived from Hannah More +and Richard Lovell Edgeworth. Besides, rick-burning and mobs were +far too recent for our neighbours to venture out at night.</p> +<p>But as we were all resolved that little Anne should have a memorable +Christmas at Chantry House, we begged an innocent, though iced cake, +from the cook, painted a set of characters ourselves, including all +the dolls, and bespoke the presence of Frank Fordyce at a feast in the +outer mullion room - Griff’s apartment, of course. The locality +was chosen as allowing more opportunity for high jinks than the bookroom, +and also because the swords and pistols in trophy over the mantelpiece +had a great fascination for the two sisters, and to ‘drink tea +with Mr. Griffith’ was always known to be a great ambition of +the little queen of the festival. As to the mullion chamber legends, +they had nearly gone out of our heads, though Clarence did once observe, +‘You remember, it will be the 26th of December;’ but we +did not think this worthy of consideration, especially as Anne’s +entertainment, at its latest, could not last beyond nine o’clock; +and the ghostly performances - now entirely laid to the account of the +departed stable-boy - never began before eleven.</p> +<p>Nor did anything interfere with our merriment. The fun of fifty +years ago must be intrinsically exquisite to bear being handed down +to another generation, so I will attempt no repetition, though some +of those Twelfth Day characters still remain, pasted into my diary. +We anticipated Twelfth Day because our guests meant to go to visit some +other friends before the New Year, and we knew Anne would have no chance +there of fulfilling her great ambition of drawing for king and queen. +These home-made characters were really charming. Mrs. Fordyce +had done several of them, and she drew beautifully. A little manipulation +contrived that the exquisite Oberon and Titania should fall to Martyn +and Anne, for whom crowns and robes had been prepared, worn by her majesty +with complacent dignity, but barely tolerated by him! The others +took their chance. Parson Frank was Tom Thumb, and convulsed us +all the evening by acting as if no bigger than that worthy, keeping +us so merry that even Clarence laughed as I had never seen him laugh +before.</p> +<p>Cock Robin and Jenny Wren - the best drawn of all - fell to Griff +and Miss Fordyce. There was a suspicion of a tint of real carnation +on her cheek, as, on his low, highly-delighted bow, she held up her +impromptu fan of folded paper; and drollery about currant wine and hopping +upon twigs went on more or less all the time, while somehow or other +the beauteous glow on her cheeks went on deepening, so that I never +saw her look so pretty as when thus playing at Jenny Wren’s coyness, +though neither she nor Griff had passed the bounds of her gracious precise +discretion.</p> +<p>The joyous evening ended at last. With the stroke of nine, +Jenny Wren bore away Queen Titania to put her to bed, for the servants +were having an entertainment of their own downstairs for all the out-door +retainers, etc. Oberon departed, after an interval sufficient +to prove his own dignity and advanced age. Emily went down to +report the success of the evening to the elders in the drawing-room, +but we lingered while Frank Fordyce was telling good stories of Oxford +life, and Griff capping them with more recent ones.</p> +<p>We too broke up - I don’t remember how; but Clarence was to +help me down the stairs, and Mr. Fordyce, frowning with anxiety at the +process, was offering assistance, while we had much rather he had gone +out of the way; when suddenly, in the gallery round the hall giving +access to the bedrooms, there dawned upon us the startled but scarcely +displeased figure of Jenny Wren in her white dress, not turning aside +that blushing face, while Cock Robin was clasping her hand and pressing +it to his lips. The tap of my crutches warned them. She +flew back within her door and shut it; Griff strode rapidly on, caught +hold of her father’s hand, exclaiming, ‘Sir, sir, I must +speak to you!’ and dragged him back into the mullion room leaving +Clarence and me to convey ourselves downstairs as best we might.</p> +<p>‘Our sister, our sweet sister!’</p> +<p>We were immensely excited. All the three of us were so far +in love with Ellen Fordyce that her presence was an enchantment to us, +and at any rate none of us ever saw the woman we could compare to her; +and as we both felt ourselves disqualified in different ways from any +nearer approach, we were content to bask in the reflected rays of our +brother’s happiness.</p> +<p>Not that he had gone that length as yet, as we knew before the night +was over, when he came down to us. Even with the dear maiden herself, +he had only made sure that she was not averse, and that merely by her +eyes and lips; and he had extracted nothing from her father but that +they were both very young, a great deal too young, and had no business +to think of such things yet. It must be talked over, etc. etc.</p> +<p>But just then, Griff told us, Frank Fordyce jumped up and turned +round with the sudden exclamation, ‘Ellen!’ looking towards +the door behind him with blank astonishment, as he found it had neither +been opened nor shut. He thought his daughter had recollected +something left behind, and coming in search of it, had retreated precipitately. +He had seen her, he said, in the mirror opposite. Griff told him +there was no mirror, and had to carry a candle across to convince him +that he had only been looking at the door into the inner room, which +though of shining dark oak, could hardly have made a reflection as vivid +as he declared that his had been. Indeed, he ascertained that +Ellen had never left her own room at all. ‘It must have +been thinking about the dear child,’ he said. ‘And +after all, it was not quite like her - somehow - she was paler, and +had something over her head.’ We had no doubt who it was. +Griff had not seen her, but he was certain that there had been none +of the moaning nor crying, ‘In fact, she has come to give her +consent,’ he said with earnest in his mocking tone.</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ said Clarence gravely, and with glistening eyes. +‘You are happy Griff. It is given to you to right the wrong, +and quiet that poor spirit.’</p> +<p>‘Happy! The happiest fellow in the world,’ said +Griff, ‘even without that latter clause - if only Madam and the +old man will have as much sense as she has!’</p> +<p>The next day was a thoroughly uncomfortable one. Griff was +not half so near his goal as he had hoped last night when with kindly +Parson Frank.</p> +<p>The commotion was as if a thunderbolt had descended among the elders. +What they had been thinking of, I cannot tell, not to have perceived +how matters were tending; but their minds were full of the Reform Bill +and the state of the country, and, besides, we were all looked on still +as mere children. Indeed, Griff was scarcely one-and-twenty, and +Ellen wanted a month of seventeen; and the crisis had really been a +sudden impulse, as he said, ‘She looked so sweet and lovely, he +could not help it.’</p> +<p>The first effect was a serious lecture upon maidenliness and propriety +to poor Ellen from her mother, who was sure that she must have transgressed +the bounds of discretion, or such ill-bred presumption would have been +spared her, and bitterly regretted the having trusted her to take care +of herself. There were sufficient grains of truth in this to make +the poor girl cry herself out of all condition for appearing at breakfast +or luncheon, and Emily’s report of her despair made us much more +angry with Mrs. Fordyce than was perhaps quite due to that good lady.</p> +<p>My parents were at first inclined to take the same line, and be vexed +with Griff for an act of impertinence towards a guest. He had +a great deal of difficulty in inducing the elders to believe him in +earnest, or treat him as a man capable of knowing his own mind; and +even thus they felt as if his addresses to Miss Fordyce were, under +present circumstances, taking almost an unfair advantage of the other +family - at which our youthful spirits felt indignant.</p> +<p>Yet, after all, such a match was as obvious and suitable as if it +had been a family compact, and the only objection was the youth of the +parties. Mrs. Fordyce would fain have believed her daughter’s +heart to be not yet awake, and was grieved to find childhood over, and +the hero of romance become the lover; and she was anxious that full +time should be given to perceive whether her daughter’s feelings +were only the result of the dazzling aureole which gratitude and excited +fancy had cast around the fine, handsome, winning youth. Her husband, +however, who had himself married very young, and was greatly taken with +Griff, besides being always tender-hearted, did not enter into her scruples; +but, as we had already found out, the grand-looking and clever man of +thirty-eight was, chiefly from his impulsiveness and good-nature, treated +as the boy of the family. His old father, too, was greatly pleased +with Griff’s spirit, affection, and purpose, as well as with my +father’s conduct in the matter; and so, after a succession of +private interviews, very tantalising to us poor outsiders, it was conceded +that though an engagement for the present was preposterous, it might +possibly be permitted when Ellen was eighteen if Griff had completed +his university life with full credit. He was fervently grateful +to have such an object set before him, and my father was warmly thankful +for the stimulus.</p> +<p>That last evening was very odd and constrained. We could not +help looking on the lovers as new specimens over which some strange +transformation had passed, though for the present it had stiffened them +in public into the strictest good behaviour. They would have been +awkward if it had been possible to either of them, and, save for a certain +look in their eyes, comported themselves as perfect strangers.</p> +<p>The three elder gentlemen held discussions in the dining-room, but +we were not trusted in our playground adjoining. Mrs. Fordyce +nailed Griff down to an interminable game at chess, and my mother kept +the two girls playing duets, while Clarence turned over the leaves; +and I read over <i>The Lady of the Lake</i>, a study which I always +felt, and still feel, as an act of homage to Ellen Fordyce, though there +was not much in common between her and the maid of Douglas. Indeed, +it was a joke of her father’s to tease her by criticising the +famous passage about the tears that old Douglas shed over his duteous +daughter’s head - ‘What in the world should the man go whining +and crying for? He had much better have laughed with her.’</p> +<p>Little did the elders know what was going on in the next room, where +there was a grand courtship among the dolls; the hero being a small +jointed Dutch one in Swiss costume, about an eighth part of the size +of the resuscitated Celestina Mary, but the only available male character +in doll-land! Anne was supposed to be completely ignorant of what +passed above her head; and her mother would have been aghast had she +heard the remarkable discoveries and speculations that she and Martyn +communicated to one another.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI - THE OUTSIDE OF THE COURTSHIP</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Or framing, as a fair excuse,<br />The book, the pencil, or +the muse;<br />Something to give, to sing, to say,<br />Some modern +tale, some ancient lay.’</p> +<p>SCOTT.</p> +<p>It seems to me on looking back that I have hardly done justice to +Mrs. Fordyce, and certainly we - as Griffith’s eager partisans +- often regarded her in the light of an enemy and opponent; but after +this lapse of time, I can see that she was no more than a prudent mother, +unwilling to see her fair young daughter suddenly launched into womanhood, +and involved in an attachment to a young and untried man.</p> +<p>The part of a drag is an invidious one; and this must have been her +part through most of her life. The Fordyces, father and son, were +of good family, gentlemen to their very backbones, and thoroughly good, +religious men; but she came of a more aristocratic strain, had been +in London society, and brought with her a high-bred air which, implanted +on the Fordyce good looks, made her daughter especially fascinating. +But that air did not recommend Mrs. Fordyce to all her neighbours, any +more than did those stronger, stricter, more thorough-going notions +of religious obligation which had led her husband to make the very real +and painful sacrifice of his sporting tastes, and attend to the parish +in a manner only too rare in those days. She was a very well-informed +and highly accomplished woman, and had made her daughter the same, keeping +her children up in a somewhat exclusive style, away from all gossip +or undesirable intimacies, as recommended by Miss Edgeworth and other +more religious authorities, and which gave great offence in houses where +there were girls of the same age. No one, however, could look +at Ellen, and doubt of the success of the system, or of the young girl’s +entire content and perfect affection for her mother, though her father +was her beloved playfellow - yet always with respect. She never +took liberties with him, nor called him Pap or any other ridiculous +name inconsistent with the fifth Commandment, though she certainly was +more entirely at ease with him than ever we had been with our elderly +father. When once Mrs. Fordyce found on what terms we were to +be, she accepted them frankly and fully. Already Emily had been +the first girl, not a relation, whose friendship she had fostered with +Ellen; and she had also become thoroughly affectionate and at home with +my mother, who suited her perfectly on the conscientious, and likewise +on the prudent and sensible, side of her nature.</p> +<p>To me she was always kindness itself, so kind that I never felt, +as I did on so many occasions, that she was very pitiful and attentive +to the deformed youth; but that she really enjoyed my companionship, +and I could help her in her pursuits. I have a whole packet of +charming notes of hers about books, botany, drawings, little bits of +antiquarianism, written with an arch grace and finish of expression +peculiarly her own, and in a very pointed hand, yet too definite to +be illegible. I owe her more than I can say for the windows of +wholesome hope and ambition she opened to me, giving a fresh motive +and zest even to such a life as mine. I can hardly tell which +was the most delightful companion, she or her husband. In spite +of ill health, she knew every plant, and every bit of fair scenery in +the neighbourhood, and had fresh, amusing criticisms to utter on each +new book; while he, not neglecting the books, was equally well acquainted +with all beasts and birds, and shed his kindly light over everything +he approached. He was never melancholy about anything but politics, +and even there it was an immense consolation to him to have the owner +of Chantry House staunch on the same side, instead of in chronic opposition.</p> +<p>The family party moved to a tall house at Bath, but there still was +close intercourse, for the younger clergyman rode over every week for +the Sunday duty, and almost always dined and slept at Chantry House. +He acted as bearer of long letters, which, in spite of a reticulation +of crossings, were too expensive by post for young ladies’ pocket-money, +often exceeding the regular quarto sheet. It was a favourite joke +to ask Emily what Ellen reported about Bath fashions, and to see her +look of scorn. For they were a curious mixture, those girlish +letters, of village interests, discussion of books, and thoughts beyond +their age; Tommy Toogood and Prometheus; or Du Guesclin in the closest +juxtaposition with reports of progress in Abercrombie on the <i>Intellectual +Powers</i>. It was the desire of Ellen to prove herself not unsettled +but improved by love, and to become worthy of her ideal Griffith, never +guessing that he would have been equally content with her if she had +been as frivolous as the idlest girl who lingered amid the waning glories +of Bath.</p> +<p>We all made them a visit there when Martyn was taken to a preparatory +school in the place. Mrs. Fordyce took me out for drives on the +beautiful hills; and Emily and I had a very delightful time, undisturbed +by the engrossing claims of love-making. Very good, too, were +our friends, after our departure, in letting Martyn spend Sundays and +holidays with them, play with Anne as before, say his Catechism with +her to Mrs. Fordyce, and share her little Sunday lessons, which had, +he has since told, a force and attractiveness he had never known before, +and really did much, young as he was, in preparing the way towards the +fulfilment of my father’s design for him.</p> +<p>When the Rectory was ready, and the family returned, it was high +summer, and there were constant meetings between the households. +No doubt there were the usual amount of trivial disappointments and +annoyances, but the whole season seems to me to have been bathed in +sunlight. The Reform Bill agitations and the London mobs of which +Clarence wrote to us were like waves surging beyond an isle of peace. +Clarence had some unpleasant walks from the office. Once or twice +the shutters had to be put up at Frith and Castleford’s to prevent +the windows from being broken; and once Clarence actually saw our nation’s +hero, ‘the Duke,’ riding quietly and slowly through a yelling, +furious mob, who seemed withheld from falling on him by the perfect +impassiveness of the eagle face and spare figure. Moreover a pretty +little boy, on his pony, suddenly pushed forward and rode by the Duke’s +side, as if proud and resolute to share his peril.</p> +<p>‘If Griffith had been there!’ said Ellen and Emily, though +they did not exactly know what they expected him to have done.</p> +<p>The chief storms that drifted across our sky were caused by Mrs. +Fordyce’s resolution that Griffith should enjoy none of the privileges +of an accepted suitor before the engagement was an actual fact. +Ellen was obedient and conscientious; and would neither transgress nor +endure to have her mother railed at by Griff’s hasty tongue, and +this affronted him, and led to little breezes.</p> +<p>When people overstay their usual time, tempers are apt to get rather +difficult. Griffith had kept all his terms at Oxford, and was +not to return thither after the long vacation, but was to read with +a tutor before taking his degree. Moreover bills began to come +from Oxford, not very serious, but vexing my father and raising annoyances +and frets, for Griff resented their being complained of, and thought +himself ill-used, going off to see his own friends whenever he was put +out.</p> +<p>One morning at breakfast, late in October, he announced that Lady +Peacock was in lodgings at Clifton, and asked my mother to call on her. +But mamma said it was too far for the horse - she visited no one at +that distance, and had never thought much of Selina Clarkson before +or after her marriage.</p> +<p>‘But now that she is a widow, it would be such a kindness,’ +pleaded Griff.</p> +<p>‘Depend upon it, a gay young widow needs no kindness from me, +and had better not have it from you,’ said my mother, getting +up from behind her urn and walking off, followed by my father.</p> +<p>Griff drummed on the table. ‘I wonder what good ladies +of a certain age do with their charity,’ he said.</p> +<p>And while we were still crying out at him, Ellen Fordyce and her +father appeared, like mirth bidding good-morrow, at the window. +All was well for the time, but Griff wanted Ellen to set out alone with +him, and take their leisurely way through the wood-path, and she insisted +on waiting for her father, who had got into an endless discussion with +mine on the Reform Bill, thrown out in the last Session. Griff +tried to wile her on with him, but, though she consented to wander about +the lawn before the windows with him, she always resolutely turned at +the great beech tree. Emily and I watched them from the window, +at first amused, then vexed, as we could see, by his gestures, that +he was getting out of temper, and her straw bonnet drooped at one moment, +and was raised the next in eager remonstrance or defence. At last +he flung angrily away from her, and went off to the stables, leaving +her leaning against the gate in tears. Emily, in an access of +indignant sympathy, rushed out to her, and they vanished together into +the summer-house, until her father called her, and they went home together.</p> +<p>Emily told me that Ellen had struggled hard to keep herself from +crying enough to show traces of tears which her father could observe, +and that she had excused Griff with all her might on the plea of her +own ‘tiresomeness.’</p> +<p>We were all the more angry with him for his selfishness and want +of consideration, for Ellen, in her torrent of grief, had even disclosed +that he had said she did not care for him - no one really in love ever +scrupled about a mother’s nonsense, etc., etc.</p> +<p>We were resolved, like two sages, to give him a piece of our minds, +and convince him that such dutifulness was the pledge of future happiness, +and that it was absolute cruelty to the rare creature he had won, to +try to draw her in a direction contrary to her conscience.</p> +<p>However, we saw him no more that day; and only learnt that he had +left a message at the stables that dinner was not to be kept waiting +for him. Such a message from Clarence would have caused a great +commotion; but it was quite natural and a matter of course from him +in the eyes of the elders, who knew nothing of his parting with Ellen. +However, there was annoyance enough, when bedtime came, family prayers +were over, and still there was no sign of him. My father sat up +till one o’clock, to let him in, then gave it up, and I heard +his step heavily mounting the stairs.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII - BRISTOL DIAMONDS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘<i>Stafford</i>. And you that are the King’s friends, +follow me.</p> +<p><i>Cade</i>. And you that love the Commons, follow me;<br />We +will not leave one lord, one gentleman,<br />Spare none but such as +go in clouted shoon.’</p> +<p>Act I. <i>Henry VI.</i></p> +<p>The next day was Sunday, and no Griff appeared in the morning. +Vexation, perhaps, prevented us from attending as much as we otherwise +might have done to Mr. Henderson when he told us that there were rumours +of a serious disturbance at Bristol; until Emily recollected that Griff +had been talking for some days past of riding over to see his friend +in the cavalry regiment there stationed, and we all agreed that it was +most likely that he was there; and our wrath began to soften in the +belief that he might have been detained to give his aid in the cause +of order, though his single arm could not be expected to effect as much +as at Hillside.</p> +<p>Long after dark we heard a horse’s feet, and in another minute +Griff, singed, splashed, and battered, had hurried into the room - ‘It +has begun!’ he said. ‘The revolution! I have +brought her - Lady Peacock. She was at Clifton, dreadfully alarmed. +She is almost at the door now, in her carriage. I’ll just +take the pony, and ride over to tell Eastwood in case he will call out +the Yeomanry.’</p> +<p>The wheels were to be heard, and everybody hastened out to receive +Lady Peacock, who was there with her maid, full of gratitude. +I heard her broken sentences as she came across the hall, about dreadful +scenes - frightful mob - she knew not what would have become of her +but for Griffith - the place was in flames when they left it - the military +would not act - Griffith had assured her that Mr. and Mrs. Winslow would +be so kind - as long as any place was a refuge</p> +<p>We really did believe we were at the outbreak of a revolution or +civil war, and, all little frets forgotten, listened appalled to the +tidings; how the appearance of Sir Charles Wetherall, the Recorder of +Bristol, a strong opponent to the Reform Bill, seemed to have inspired +the mob with fury. Griff and his friend the dragoon, while walking +in Broad Street, were astonished by a violent rush of riotous men and +boys, hooting and throwing stones as the Recorder’s carriage tried +to make its way to the Guildhall. In the midst a piteous voice +exclaimed -</p> +<p>‘Oh, Griffith! Mr. Griffith Winslow! Is it you?’ +and Lady Peacock was seen retreating upon the stone steps of a house +either empty, or where the inhabitants were too much alarmed to open +the doors. She was terribly frightened, and the two gentlemen +stood in front of her till the tumultuary procession had passed by. +She was staying in lodgings at Clifton, and had driven in to Bristol +to shop, when she thus found herself entangled in the mob. They +then escorted her to the place where she was to meet her carriage, and +found it for her with some difficulty. Then, while the officer +returned to his quarters, Griff accompanied her far enough on the way +to Clifton to see that everything was quiet before her, and then returned +to seek out his friend. The court at the Guildhall had had to +be adjourned, but the rioters were hunting Sir Charles to the Mansion-House. +Griff was met by one of the Town Council, a tradesman with whom we dealt, +who, having perhaps heard of his prowess at Hillside, entreated him +to remain, offering him a bed, and saying that all friends of order +were needed in such a crisis as this. Griff wrote a note to let +us know what had become of him, but everything was disorganised, and +we did not get it till two days afterwards.</p> +<p>In the evening the mob became more violent, and in the midst of dinner +a summons came for Griff’s host to attend the Mayor in endeavouring +to disperse it. Getting into the Mansion-House by private back +ways, they were able to join the Mayor when he came out, amid a shower +of brickbats, sticks, and stones, and read the Riot Act three times +over, after warning them of the consequences of persisting in their +defiance.</p> +<p>‘But they were far past caring for that,’ said Griff. +‘An iron rail from the square was thrown in the midst of it, and +if I had not caught it there would have been an end of his Worship.’</p> +<p>The constables, with such help as Griff and a few others could give +them, defended the front of the Mansion-House, while the Recorder, for +whom they savagely roared, made his escape by the roof to another house. +A barricade was made with beds, tables, and chairs, behind which the +defenders sheltered themselves, while volleys of stones smashed in the +windows, and straw was thrown after them. But at last the tramp +of horses’ feet was heard, and the Dragoons came up.</p> +<p>‘We thought all over then,’ said Griff; ‘but Colonel +Brereton would not have a blow struck, far less a shot fired! +He would have it that it was a good-humoured mob! I heard him! +When one of his own men was brought up badly hurt with a brickbat, I +heard Ludlow, the Town-Clerk, ask him what he thought of their good +humour, and he had nothing to say but that it was an accident! +And the rogues knew it! He took care they should; he walked about +among them and shook hands with them!’</p> +<p>Griff waited at the Mansion-House all night, and helped to board +up the smashed windows; but at daylight Colonel Brereton came and insisted +on withdrawing the piquet on guard - not, however, sending a relief +for them, on the plea that they only collected a crowd. The instant +they were withdrawn, down came the mob in fresh force, so desperate +that all the defences were torn down, and they swarmed in so that there +was nothing for it but to escape over the roofs.</p> +<p>Griffith was sent to rouse the inhabitants of College Green and St. +Augustine’s Back to come in the King’s name to assist the +Magistrates, and he had many good stories of the various responses he +met with. But the rioters, inflamed by the wine they had found +in sacking the Mansion-House, and encouraged by the passiveness of the +troops, had become entirely masters of the situation. And Colonel +Brereton seems to have imagined that the presence of the soldiers acted +as an irritation; for in this crisis he actually sent them out of the +city to Keynsham, then came and informed the mob, who cheered him, as +well they might.</p> +<p>In the night the Recorder had left the city, and notices were posted +to that effect; also that the Riot Act had been read, and any further +disturbance would be capital felony. This escape of their victim +only had the effect of directing the rage of the populace against Bishop +Grey, who had likewise opposed the Reform Bill.</p> +<p>Messages had been sent to advise the Bishop, who was to preach that +day at the Cathedral, to stay away and sanction the omission of the +service; but his answer to one of his clergy was - ‘These are +times in which it is necessary not to shrink from danger! Our +duty is to be at our post.’ And he also said, ‘Where +can I die better than in my own Cathedral?’</p> +<p>Since the bells were ringing, and it was understood that the Bishop +was actually going to dare the peril, Griff and others of the defenders +decided that it was better to attend the service and fill up the nave +so as to hinder outrage. He said it was a most strange and wonderful +service. Chants and Psalms and Lessons and prayers going on their +course as usual, but every now and then in the pauses of the organ, +a howl or yell of the voice of the multitude would break on the ear +through the thick walls. Griff listened and hoped for a volley +of musketry. He was not tender-hearted! But none came, and +by the time the service was over, the mob had been greatly reinforced +and had broken into the prisons, set them on fire, and released the +prisoners. They were mustering on College Green for an attack +on the palace. Griff aided in guarding the entrance to the cloisters +till the Bishop and his family had had time to drive away to Almondsbury, +four miles off, and then the rush became so strong that they had to +give way. There was another great struggle at the door of the +palace, but it was forced open with a crowbar, while shouts rang out +‘No King and no Bishops!’ A fire was made in the dining-room +with chairs and tables, and live coals were put into the beds, while +the plunder went on.</p> +<p>Griff meantime had made his way to the party headed by the magistrates, +and accompanied by the dragoons, and the mob began to flee; but Colonel +Brereton had given strict orders that the soldiers should not fire, +and the plunderers rallied, made a fire in the Chapter House, and burnt +the whole of the library, shouting with the maddest triumph.</p> +<p>They next attacked the Cathedral, intending to burn that likewise, +but two brave gentlemen, Mr. Ralph and Mr. Linne, succeeded in saving +this last outrage, at the head of the better affected.</p> +<p>Griff had fought hard. He was all over bruises which he really +had never felt at the time, scarcely even now, though one side of his +face was turning purple, and his clothes were singed. In a sort +of council held at the repulse of the attack on the Cathedral, it had +been decided that the best thing he could do would be to give notice +to Sir George Eastwood, in order that the Yeomanry might be called out, +since the troops were so strangely prevented from acting. As he +rode through Clifton, he had halted at Lady Peacock’s, and found +her in extreme alarm. Indeed, no one could guess what the temper +of the mob might be the next day, or whether they might not fall upon +private houses. The Mansion-House, the prisons, the palace were +all burning and were an astounding sight, which terrified her exceedingly, +and she was sending out right and left to endeavour to get horses to +take her away. In common humanity, and for old acquaintance sake, +it was impossible not to help her, and Griff had delayed, to offer any +amount of reward in her name for posthorses, which he had at last secured. +Her own man-servant, whom she had sent in quest of some, had never returned, +and she had to set off without him, Griff acting as outrider; but after +the first there was no more difficulty about horses, and she had been +able to change them at the next stage.</p> +<p>We all thought the days of civil war were really begun, as the heads +of this account were hastily gathered; but there was not much said, +only Mr. Frank Fordyce laid his hand on Griff’s shoulder and said, +‘Well done, my boy; but you have had enough for to-day. +If you’ll lend me a horse, Winslow, I’ll ride over to Eastwood. +That’s work for the clergy in these times, eh? Griffith +should rest. He may be wanted to-morrow. Only is there any +one to take a note home for me, to say where I’m gone;’ +and then he added with that sweet smile of his, ‘Some one will +be more the true knight than ever, eh, you Griffith you - ’</p> +<p>Griffith coloured a little, and Lady Peacock’s eyes looked +interrogative. When the horse was announced, Griff followed Mr. +Fordyce into the hall, and came back announcing that, unless summoned +elsewhere, he should go to breakfast at Hillside, and so hear what was +decided on. He longed to be back at the scene of action, but was +so tired out that he could not dispense with another night’s rest; +though he took all precautions for being called up, in case of need.</p> +<p>However, nothing came, and he rode to the Rectory in Yeomanry equipment. +Nor could any one doubt that in the ecstasy of meeting such a hero, +all the little misunderstanding and grief of the night before was forgotten? +Ellen looked as if she trod on air, when she came down with her father +to report that Griffith had gone, according to the orders sent, to join +the rest of the Yeomanry, who were to advance upon Bristol. They +had seen, and tried to turn back, some of the villagers who were starting +with bludgeons to share in the spoil, and who looked sullen, as if they +were determined not to miss their share.</p> +<p>I do not think we were very much alarmed for Griff’s safety +or for our own, not even the ladies. My mother had the lion-heart +of her naval ancestors, and Ellen was in a state of exaltation. +Would that I could put her before other eyes, as she stood with hands +clasped and glowing cheek.</p> +<p>‘Oh! - think! - think of having one among us who is as real +and true knight as ever watched his armour -</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘“For king, for church, for lady fight!”<br />It +has all come gloriously true!’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘Should not you like to bind on his spurs?’ I asked somewhat +mischievously; but she was serious as she said, ‘I am sure he +has won them.’ All the rest of the Fordyces came down afterwards, +too anxious to stay at home. Our elders felt the matter more gravely, +thinking of what civil war might mean to us all, and what an awful thing +it was for Englishmen to be enrolled against each other. Nottingham +Castle had just been burnt, and things looked only too like revolution, +especially considering the inaction of the dragoons. After Griff +had left Bristol, there had been some terrible scenes at the Custom +House, where the ringleaders - unhappy men! - were caught in a trap +of their own and perished miserably.</p> +<p>However, by the morning, the order sent from Lord Hill, the arrival +of Major Beckwith from Gloucester, and the proceedings of the good-humoured +mob had put an end to poor Brereton’s hesitations; a determined +front had been shown; the mob had been fairly broken up; troops from +all quarters poured into the city, and by dinner-time Griff came back +with the news that all was quiet and there was nothing more to fear. +Ellen and Emily both flew out to meet him at the first sound of the +horse’s feet, and they all came into the drawing-room together +- each young lady having hold of one of his hands - and Ellen’s +face in such a glow, that I rather suspect that he had snatched a reward +which certainly would not have been granted save in such a moment of +uplifted feeling, and when she was thankful to her hero for forgetting +how angry he had been with her two days before.</p> +<p>Minor matters were forgotten in the details of his tidings, as he +stood before the fire, shining in his silver lace, and relating the +tragedy and the comedy of the scene.</p> +<p>It was curious, as the evening passed on, to see how Ellen and Lady +Peacock regarded each other, now that the tension of suspense was over. +To Ellen, the guest was primarily a distressed and widowed dame, delivered +by Griff, to whom she, as his lady love, was bound to be gracious and +kind; nor had they seen much of one another, the elder ladies sitting +in the drawing-room, and we in our own regions; but we were all together +at dinner and afterwards, and Lady Peacock, who had been in a very limp, +nervous, and terrified state all day, began to be the Selina Clarkson +we remembered, and ‘more too.’ She was still in mourning, +but she came down to dinner in gray satin sheen, and with her hair in +a most astonishing erection of bows and bands, on the very crown of +her head, raising her height at least four inches. Emily assures +me that it was the mode in use, and that she and Ellen wore their hair +in the same style, appealing to portraits to prove it. I can only +say that they never astonished my weak mind in the like manner; and +that their heads, however dressed, only appeared to me a portion of +the general woman, and part of the universal fitness of things. +Ellen was likewise amazed, most likely not at the hair, but at the transformation +of the disconsolate, frightened widow, into the handsome, fashionable, +stylish lady, talking over London acquaintance and London news with +my father and Griff whenever they left the endless subject of the Bristol +adventures.</p> +<p>The widow had gained a good deal in beauty since her early girlhood, +having regular features, eyes of an uncommon deep blue, very black brows, +eye-lashes, and hair, and a form of the kind that is better after early +youth is over. ‘A fine figure of a woman,’ Parson +Frank pronounced her, and his wife, with the fine edge of her lips replied, +‘exactly what she is!’</p> +<p>She looked upon us younger ones as mere children still - indeed she +never looked at me at all if she could help it - but she mortally offended +Emily by penning her up in a corner, and asking if Griff were engaged +to that sentimental little girl.</p> +<p>Emily coloured like a turkey cock between wrath and embarrassment, +and hotly protested against the word sentimental.</p> +<p>‘Ah yes, I see!’ she said in a patronising tone, ‘she +is your bosom friend, eh? That’s the way those things always +begin. You need not answer: I see it all. And no doubt it +is a capital thing for him; properties joining and all. And she +will get a little air and style when he takes her to London.’ +It was a tremendous offence even to hint that Ellen’s style was +capable of improvement; perhaps an unprejudiced eye would have said +that the difference was between high-bred simplicity and the air of +fashion and society.</p> +<p>In our eyes Lady Peacock was the companion of the elders, and as +such was appreciated by the gentlemen; but neither of the two mothers +was equally delighted with her, nor was mine at all sorry when, on Tuesday, +the boxes were packed, posthorses sent for, and my Lady departed, with +great expressions of thankfulness to us all.</p> +<p>‘A tulip to a jessamine,’ muttered Griff as she drove +off, and he looked up at his Ellen’s sweet refined face.</p> +<p>The unfortunate Colonel Brereton put an end to himself when the court-martial +was half over. How Clarence was shocked and how ardent was his +pity! But Griffith received the thanks of the Corporation of Bristol +for his gallant conduct, when the special assize was held in January. +Mrs. Fordyce was almost as proud of him as we were, and there was much +less attempt at restraining the terms on which he stood with Ellen - +though still the formal engagement was not permitted.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII - QUICKSANDS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p> ‘Whither shall I go?<br />Where shall I hide +my forehead and my eyes?’</p> +<p>TENNYSON.</p> +<p>It was in the May of the ensuing year, 1832, that Clarence was sent +down to Bristol for a few weeks to take the place of one of the clerks +in the office where the cargoes of the incoming vessels of the firm +were received and overhauled.</p> +<p>This was a good-natured arrangement of Mr. Castleford’s in +order to give him change of work and a sight of home, where, by the +help of the coach, he could spend his Sundays. That first spring +day on his way down was a great delight and even surprise to him, who +had never seen our profusion of primroses, cowslips, and bluebells, +nor our splendid blossom of trees - apple, lilac, laburnum - all vieing +in beauty with one another. Emily conducted him about in great +delight, taking him over to Hillside to see Mrs. Fordyce’s American +garden, blazing with azaleas, and glowing with rhododendrons. +He came back with a great bouquet given to him by Ellen, who had been +unusually friendly with him, and he was more animated and full of life +than for years before.</p> +<p>Next time he came he looked less happy. There was plenty of +room in our house, but he used, by preference, the little chamber within +mine, and there at night he asked me to lend him a few pounds, since +Griffith had written one of his off-hand letters asking him to discharge +a little bill or two at Bristol, giving the addresses, but not sending +the accounts. This was no wonder, since any enclosure doubled +the already heavy postage. One of these bills was for some sporting +equipments from the gunsmith’s; another, much heavier, from a +tavern for breakfasts, or rather luncheons, to parties of gentlemen, +mostly bearing date in the summer and autumn of 1830, before the friendship +with the Fordyces had begun. On Clarence’s defraying the +first and applying for the second, two more had come in, one from a +jeweller for a pair of drop-earrings, the other from a nurseryman for +a bouquet of exotics. Doubting of these two last, Clarence had +written to Griff, but had not yet received an answer. The whole +amount was so much beyond what he had been led to expect that he had +not brought enough money to meet it, and wanted an advance from me, +promising repayment, to which latter point I could not assent, as both +of us knew, but did not say, we should never see the sum again, and +to me it only meant stinting in new books and curiosities. We +were anxious to get the matter settled at once, as Griffith spoke of +being dunned; and it might be serious, if the tradesmen applied to my +father when he was still groaning over revelations of college expenses.</p> +<p>On the ensuing Saturday, Clarence showed me Griff’s answer +- ‘I had forgotten these items. The earrings were a wedding +present to the pretty little barmaid, who had been very civil. +The bouquet was for Lady Peacock; I felt bound to do something to atone +for mamma’s severe virtue. It is all right, you best of +brothers.’</p> +<p>It was consolatory that all the dates were prior to the Hillside +fire, except that of the bouquet. As to the earrings, we all knew +that Griff could not see a pretty girl without talking nonsense to her. +Anyway, if they were a wedding present, there was an end of it; and +we were only glad to prevent any hint of them from reaching the ears +of the authorities.</p> +<p>Clarence had another trouble to confide to me. He had strong +reason to believe that Tooke, the managing clerk at Bristol, was carrying +on a course of peculation, and feathering his nest at the expense of +the firm. What a grand discovery, thought I, for such a youth +to have made. The firm would be infinitely obliged to him, and +his fortune would be secured. He shook his head, and said that +was all my ignorance; the man, Tooke, was greatly trusted, especially +by Mr. Frith the senior partner, and was so clever and experienced that +it would be almost impossible to establish anything against him. +Indeed he had browbeaten Clarence, and convinced him at the moment that +his suspicions and perplexities were only due to the ignorance of a +foolish, scrupulous youth, who did not understand the customs and perquisites +of an agency. It was only when Clarence was alone, and reflected +on the matter by the light of experience gained on a similar expedition +to Liverpool, that he had perceived that Mr. Tooke had been throwing +dust in his eyes.</p> +<p>‘I shall only get into a scrape myself,’ said Clarence +despondently. ‘I have felt it coming ever since I have been +at Bristol;’ and he pushed his hair back with a weary hopeless +gesture.</p> +<p>‘But you don’t mean to let it alone?’ I cried indignantly.</p> +<p>He hesitated in a manner that painfully recalled his failing, and +said at last, ‘I don’t know; I suppose I ought not.’</p> +<p>‘Suppose?’ I cried.</p> +<p>‘It is not so easy as you think,’ he answered, ‘especially +for one who has forfeited the right to be believed. I must wait +till I have an opportunity of speaking to Mr. Castleford, and then I +can hardly do more than privately give him a hint to be watchful. +You don’t know how things are in such houses as ours. One +may only ruin oneself without doing any good.’</p> +<p>‘You cannot write to him?’</p> +<p>‘Certainly not. He has taken his family to Mrs. Castleford’s +home in the north of Ireland for a month or six weeks. I don’t +know the address, and I cannot run the risk of the letter being opened +at the office.’</p> +<p>‘Can’t you speak to my father?’</p> +<p>‘Impossible! it would be a betrayal. He would do things +for which I should never be forgiven. And, after all, remember, +it is no business of mine. I know of agents at the docks who do +such things as a matter of course. It is only that I happen to +know that Harris at Liverpool does not. Very possibly old Frith +knows all about it. I should only get scored down as a meddlesome +prig, worse hypocrite than they think me already.’</p> +<p>He said a good deal more to this effect, and I remember exclaiming, +‘Oh, Clarence, the old story!’ and then being frightened +at the whiteness that came over his face.</p> +<p>Little did I know the suffering to which those words of mine condemned +him. For not only had he to make up his mind to resistance, which +to his nature was infinitely worse than it was to Griffith to face a +raging mob, but he knew very well that it would almost inevitably produce +his own ruin, and renew the disgrace out of which he was beginning to +emerge. I did not - even while I prayed that he might do the right +- guess at his own agony of supplication, carried on incessantly, day +and night, sleeping and waking, that the Holy Spirit of might should +brace his will and govern his tongue, and make him say the right thing +at the right time, be the consequences what they might. No one, +not constituted as he was, can guess at the anguish he endured. +I knew no more. Clarence did not come home the next Saturday, +to my mother’s great vexation; but on Tuesday a small parcel was +given to me, brought from our point of contact with the Bristol coach. +It contained some pencils I had asked him to get, and a note marked +<i>private</i>. Here it is -</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘DEAR EDWARD - I am summoned to town. Tooke has no doubt +forestalled me. We have had some curious interviews, in which +he first, as I told you, persuaded me out of my senses that it was all +right, and then, finding me still dissatisfied, tried in a delicate +fashion to apprise me that I had a claim to a share of the plunder. +When I refused to appropriate anything without sanction from headquarters, +he threatened me with the consequences of presumptuous interference. +It came to bullying at last. I hardly know what I answered, but +I don’t think I gave in. Now, a sharp letter from old Frith +recalls me. Say nothing at home; and whatever you do, do not betray +Griff. He has more to lose than I. Help me in the true way, +as you know how. - Ever yours, W. C. W.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>I need not dwell on the misery of those days. It was well that +my father had ruled that our letters should not be family property. +Here were all the others discussing a proposed tour in the north of +Devon, to be taken conjointly with the Fordyces, as soon as Griff should +come home. My mother said it would do me good; she saw I was flagging, +but she little guessed at the continual torment of anxiety, and my wonder +at the warning about Griff.</p> +<p>At the end of the week came another letter.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘You need not speak yet. Papa and mamma will know soon +enough. I brought down £150 in specie, to be paid over to +Tooke. He avers that only £130 was received. What +is my word worth against his? I am told that if I am not prosecuted +it will only be out of respect to my father. I am not dismissed +yet, but shall get notice as soon as letters come from Ireland. +I have written, but it is not in the nature of things that Mr. Castleford +should not accept such proofs as have been sent him. I have no +hope, and shall be glad when it is over. The part of black sheep +is not a pleasant one. Say not a word, and do not let my father +come up. He could do no good, and to see him believing it all +would be the last drop in the bucket.</p> +<p><i>N.B</i>. - In this pass, nothing would be saved by bringing Griff +into it, so be silent on your life. Innocence does not seem to +be much comfort at present. Maybe it will come in time. +I know you will not drop me, dear Ted, wherever I may be.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Need I tell the distress of those days of suspense and silence, when +my only solace was in being left alone, and in writing letters to Clarence +which were mostly torn up again.</p> +<p>My horror was lest he should be driven to go off to the sea, which +he loved so well, knowing, as nobody else did, the longing that sometimes +seized him for it, a hereditary craving that curiously conflicted with +the rest of his disposition; and, indeed, his lack was more of moral +than of physical courage. It haunted me constantly that his entreaty +that my father should not come to London was a bad sign, and that he +would never face such another return home. And was I justified +in keeping all this to myself, when my father’s presence might +save him from the flight that would indeed be the surrender of his character, +and to the life of a common sailor? Never have I known such leaden +days as these, yet the misery was not a tithe of what Clarence was undergoing.</p> +<p>I was right in my forebodings. Prosecution and a second return +home in shame and disgrace were alike hideous to Clarence, and the present +was almost equally terrible, for nobody at the office had any doubt +of his guilt, and the young men who had sneered at his strictness and +religious habits regarded him as an unmasked hypocrite, only waiting +on sufferance till his greatly deceived patron should write to decide +on the steps to be taken with him, while he knew he was thought to be +brazening it out in hopes of again deceiving Mr. Castleford.</p> +<p>The sea began to exert its power over him, and he thought with longing +of its freedom, as if the sails of the vessels were the wings of a dove +to flee away and be at rest. He had no illusions as to the roughness +of the life and companionship; but in his present mood, the frank rudeness +and profanity of the sailors seemed preferable to his cramped life, +and the scowls of his fellows; and he knew himself to have seamanship +enough to rise quickly, even if he could not secure a mate’s berth +at first.</p> +<p>Mr. Castleford could not be heard from till the end of the week. +Friday, Saturday came and not a word. That was the climax! +When the consignment of cash, hitherto carried by Clarence to the Bank +of England, was committed to another clerk, the very office boy sniggered, +and the manager demonstratively waited to see him depart.</p> +<p>Unable to bear it any longer, he walked towards Wapping, bought a +Southwester, examined the lists of shipping, and entered into conversation +with one or two sailors about the vessels making up their crews; intending +to go down after dark, to meet the skipper of a craft bound for Lisbon, +who, he heard, was so much in want of a mate as perhaps to overlook +the lack of testimonials, and at any rate take him on board on Sunday.</p> +<p>Going home to pick up a few necessaries, a book lent to him by Miss +Newton came in his way, and he felt drawn to carry it home, and see +her face for the last time.</p> +<p>All unconscious of his trouble and of his intentions, the good lady +told him of her strong desire to hear a celebrated preacher at a neighbouring +church on the Sunday evening, but said that in her partial blindness +and weakness, she was afraid to venture, unless he would have the extreme +goodness, as she said, to take care of her. He saw that she wished +it so much that he had not the heart to refuse, and he recollected likewise +that very early on Monday morning would answer his purpose equally well.</p> +<p>It was the 7th of June. The Psalm was the 37th - the supreme +lesson of patience. ‘Hold thee still in the Lord; and abide +patiently on Him; and He shall bring it to pass. He shall make +thy righteousness as clear as the light, and thy just dealing as the +noonday.’</p> +<p>The awful sense of desolation seemed to pass away under those words, +with that gentle woman beside him. And the sermon was on ‘Oh +tarry thou the Lord’s leisure; be strong, and He shall comfort +thine heart; and put thou thy trust in the Lord.’</p> +<p>Clarence remembered nothing but the text. But it was borne +in upon him that his purpose of flight was ‘the old story,’ +- cowardice and virtual distrust of the Lord, as well as absolute cruelty +to us who loved him.</p> +<p>When he had deposited Miss Newton at her own door, he whispered thanks, +and an entreaty for her prayers.</p> +<p>And then he went home, and fought the battle of his life, with his +own horrible dread of Mr. Castleford’s disappointment; of possible +prosecution; of the shame at home; the misery of a life a second time +blighted. He fought it out on his knees, many a time persuading +himself that flight would not be a sin, then returning to the sense +that it was a temptation of his worse self to be overcome. And +by morning he knew that it would be a surrender of himself to his lower +nature, and the evil spirit behind it; while, by facing the worst that +could befall him, he would be falling into the hand of the Lord.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV - AFTER THE TEMPEST</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Nor deem the irrevocable past<br />As wholly wasted, wholly +vain,<br />If rising on its wrecks at last<br />To something nobler +we attain.’</p> +<p>LONGFELLOW.</p> +<p>All the rest of the family were out, and I was relieved by being +alone with my distress, not forced to hide it, when the door opened +and ‘Mr. Castleford’ was announced. After one moment’s +look at me, one touch of my hand, he must have seen that I was faint +with anxiety, and said, ‘It is all right, Edward; I see you know +all. I am come from Bristol to tell your father that he may be +proud of his son Clarence.’</p> +<p>I don’t know what I did. Perhaps I sobbed and cried, +but the first words I could get out were, ‘Does he know? +Oh! it may be too late. He may be gone off to sea!’ I cried, +breaking out with my chief fear. Mr. Castleford looked astounded, +then said, ‘I trust not. I sent off a special messenger +last night, as soon as I saw my way - ’</p> +<p>Then I breathed a little more freely, and could understand what he +was telling me, namely, that Tooke had accused Clarence of abstracting +£20 from the sum in his charge. The fellow accounted for +it by explaining that young Winslow had been paying extravagant bills +at a tavern, where the barmaid showed his presents, and boasted of her +conquest. All this had been written to Mr. Castleford by his partner, +and he was told that it was out of deference to himself that his <i>protégé</i> +was not in custody, nor had received notice of dismissal; but, no doubt, +he would give his sanction to immediate measures, and communicate with +the family.</p> +<p>The effect had been to make the good man hurry at once from the Giant’s +Causeway to Bristol, where he had arrived on Sunday, to investigate +the books and examine the underlings. In the midst Tooke attempted +to abscond, but he was brought back as he was embarking in an American +vessel; and he then confessed the whole, - how speculation had led to +dishonesty, and following evil customs not uncommon in other firms. +Then, when the fugitive found that young Winslow was too acute to be +blinded, and that it had been a still greater mistake to try to overcome +his integrity, self-defence required his ruin, or at any rate his expulsion, +before he could gain Mr. Castleford’s ear.</p> +<p>Tooke really believed that the discreditable bills were the young +man’s own, and proofs of concealed habits of dissipation; but +this excellent man had gone into the matter, repaired to the tradesfolk, +learnt the date, and whose the accounts really were, and had even hunted +up the barmaid, who was not married after all, and had no hesitation +in avowing that her beau had been the handsome young Yeomanry lieutenant. +Mr. Castleford had spent the greater part of Monday in this painful +task, but had not been clear enough till quite late in the evening to +despatch an express to his partner, and to Clarence, whom he desired +to meet him here.</p> +<p>‘He has acted nobly,’ said our kind friend. ‘His +only error seems to have been in being too good a brother.’</p> +<p>This made me implore that nothing should be said about Griffith’s +bills, showing those injunctions of Clarence’s which had so puzzled +me, and explaining the circumstances.</p> +<p>Mr. Castleford hummed and hawed, and perhaps wished he had seen my +father before me; but I prevailed at last, and when the others came +in from their drive, there was nothing to alloy the intelligence that +Clarence had shown rare discernment, as well as great uprightness, steadfastness, +and moral courage.</p> +<p>My mother, when she had taken in the fact, actually shed tears of +joy. Emily stood by me, holding my hand. My father said, +‘It is all owing to you, Castleford, and the helping hand you +gave the poor boy.’</p> +<p>‘Nay,’ was the answer, ‘it seems to me that it +was owing to his having the root of the matter in him to overcome his +natural failings.’</p> +<p>Still, in all the rejoicing, my heart failed me lest the express +should have come too late, and Clarence should be already on the high +seas, for there had been no letter from him on Sunday morning. +It was doubtful whether Mr. Castleford’s messenger could reach +London in time for tidings to come down by the coach - far less did +we expect Clarence - and we had nearly finished the first course at +dinner, when we heard the front door open, and a voice speaking to the +butler. Emily screamed ‘It’s he! Oh mamma, may +I?’ and flew out into the hall, dragging in a pale, worn and weary +wight, all dust and heat, having travelled down outside the coach on +a broiling day, and walked the rest of the way. He looked quite +bewildered at the rush at him; my father’s ‘Well done, Clarence,’ +and strong clasp; and my mother’s fervent kiss, and muttered something +about washing his hands.</p> +<p>Formal folks, such as we were, had to sit in our chairs; and when +he came back apologising for not dressing, as he had left his portmanteau +for the carrier, he looked so white and ill that we were quite shocked, +and began to realise what he had suffered. He could not eat the +food that was brought back for him, and allowed that his head was aching +dreadfully; but, after a glass of wine had been administered, it was +extracted that he had met Mr. Frith at the office door, and been gruffly +told that Mr. Castleford was satisfied, and he might consider himself +acquitted.</p> +<p>‘And then I had your letter, sir, thank you,’ said Clarence, +scarcely restraining his tears.</p> +<p>‘The thanks are on our side, my dear boy,’ said Mr. Castleford. +‘I must talk it over with you, but not till you have had a night’s +rest. You look as if you had not known one for a good while.’</p> +<p>Clarence gave a sort of trembling smile, not trusting himself to +speak. Approbation at home was so new and strange to him that +he could scarcely bear it, worn out as he was by nearly a month of doubt, +distress, apprehension, and self-debate.</p> +<p>My mother went herself to hasten the preparation of his room, and +after she had sent him to bed went again to satisfy herself that he +was comfortable and not feverish. She came back wiping away a +tear, and saying he had looked up at her just as when she had the three +of us in our nursery cribs. In truth these two had seldom been +so happy together since those days, though the dear mother, while thankful +that he had not failed, was little aware of the conflict his resolution +had cost him, and the hot journey and long walk came in for more blame +for his exhaustion than they entirely deserved.</p> +<p>My father perhaps understood more of the trial; for when she came +back, declaring that all that was needed was sleep, and forbidding me +to go to my room before bedtime, he said he must bid the boy good-night.</p> +<p>And he spoke as his reserve would have never let him speak at any +other time, telling Clarence how deeply thankful he felt for the manifestation +of such truthfulness and moral courage as he said showed that the man +had conquered the failings of the boy.</p> +<p>Nevertheless, when I retired for the night, it was to find Clarence +asleep indeed, but most uneasily, tossing, moaning, and muttering broken +sentences about ‘disgracing his pennant,’ ‘never bearing +to see mamma’s face’ - and the like. I thought it +a kindness to wake him, and he started up. ‘Ted, is it you? +I thought I should never hear your dear old crutch again! Is it +really all right’ - then, sitting up and passing his hand over +his face, ‘I always mix it up with the old affair, and think the +court-martial is coming again.’</p> +<p>‘There’s all the difference now.’</p> +<p>‘Thank God! yes - He has dragged me through! But it did +not seem so in one’s sleep, nor waking neither - though sleep +is worst, and happily there was not much of that! Sit down, Ted; +I want to look at you. I can’t believe it is not three weeks +since I saw you last.’</p> +<p>We talked it all out, and I came to some perception of the fearful +ordeal it had been - first, in the decision neither to shut his eyes, +nor to conceal that they were open; and then in the lack of presence +of mind and the sense of confusion that always beset him when browbeaten +and talked down, so that, in the critical contest with Tooke, he felt +as if his feet were slipping from under him, and what had once been +clear to him was becoming dim, so that he had only been assured that +he had held his ground by Tooke’s redoubled persuasions and increased +anger. And for a clerk, whose years were only twenty-one, to oppose +a manager, who had been in the service more than the whole of that space, +was preposterous insolence, and likely to result in the utter ruin of +his own prospects, and the character he had begun to retrieve. +It was just after this, the real crisis, that he had the only dream +which had not been misery and distress. In it she - she yonder +- yes, the lady with the lamp, came and stood by him, and said, ‘Be +steadfast.’</p> +<p>‘It was a dream,’ said Clarence. ‘She was +not as she is in the mullion room, not crying, but with a sweet, sad +look, almost like Miss Fordyce - if Miss Fordyce ever looked sad. +It was only a dream.’</p> +<p>Yet it had so refreshed and comforted him that we have often since +discussed whether the spirit really visited him, or whether this was +the manner in which conscience and imagination acted on his brain. +Indeed, he always believed that the dream had been either heaven-sent +or heaven-permitted.</p> +<p>The die had been cast in that interview when he had let it be seen +that he was dangerous, and could not be bought over. The after +consequences had been the terrible distress and temptation I have before +described, only most inadequately. ‘But that,’ said +Clarence, half smiling, ‘only came of my being such a wretched +creature as I am. There, dear old Miss Newton saved me - yes, +she did - most unconsciously, dear old soul. Don’t you remember +how Griff used to say she maundered over the text. Well, she did +it all the way home in my ear, as she clung to my arm - “Be strong, +and He shall comfort thine heart.” And then I knew my despair +and determination to leave it all behind were a temptation - “the +old story,” as you told me, and I prayed God to help me, and just +managed to fight it out. Thank God for her!’</p> +<p>If it had not been for that good woman, he would have been out of +reach - already out in the river - before Mr. Castleford’s messenger +had reached London! He might call himself a poor creature - and +certainly a man of harder, bolder stuff would not have fared so badly +in the strife; but it always seemed to me in after years that much of +what he called the poor creature - the old, nervous, timid, diffident +self - had been shaken off in that desperate struggle, perhaps because +it had really given him more self-reliance, and certainly inspired others +with confidence in him.</p> +<p>We talked late enough to have horrified my mother, but I did not +leave him till he was sleeping like a child, nor did he wake till I +was leaving the room at the sound of the bell. It was alleged +that it was the first time in his life that he had been late for prayers. +Mr. Castleford said he was very glad, and my mother, looking severely +at me, said she knew we had been talking all night, and then went off +to satisfy herself whether he ought to be getting up.</p> +<p>There was no doubt on that score, for he was quite himself again, +though he was, in looks and in weariness, just as if he had recovered +from a bad illness, or, as he put it himself, he felt as tired and bruised +as if he had been in a stiff gale. Mr. Castleford was sorry to +be obliged to ask him to go through the whole matter with him in the +study, and the result was that he was pronounced to have an admirable +head for business, as well as the higher qualities that had been put +to the test. After that his good friend insisted that he should +have a long and complete holiday, at first proposing to take him to +Ireland, but giving the notion up on hearing of our projected excursion +to the north of Devon. Pending this, Clarence was, for nearly +a week, fit for nothing but lying on the grass in the shade, playing +with the cats and dogs, or with little Anne, looking over our drawings, +listening to Wordsworth, our reigning idol, - and enjoying, with almost +touching gratitude, the first approach to petting that had ever fallen +to his share.</p> +<p>The only trouble on his mind was the Quarter-Session. Mr. Castleford +would hardly have prosecuted an old employé, but Mr. Frith was +furious, and resolved to make an example. Tooke had, however, +so carefully entrenched himself that nothing could be actually made +a subject of prosecution but the abstraction of the £20 of which +he had accused Clarence, who had to prove the having received and delivered +it.</p> +<p>It was a very painful affair, and Tooke was sentenced to seven years’ +transportation. I believe he became a very rich and prosperous +man in New South Wales, and founded a family. My father received +warm compliments upon his sons, and Clarence had the new sensation of +being honourably coupled with Griffith, though he laughed at the idea +of mere honesty with fierce struggles being placed beside heroism with +no struggle at all.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV - HOLIDAY-MAKING</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘The child upon the mountain side<br /> Plays +fearless and at ease,<br />While the hush of purple evening<br /> Spreads +over earth and seas.<br />The valley lies in shadow,<br /> But +the valley lies afar;<br />And the mountain is a slope of light<br /> Upreaching +to a star.’</p> +<p>MENELLA SMEDLEY.</p> +<p>How pleasant it was to hear Griffith’s cheery voice, as he +swung himself down, out of a cloud of dust, from the top of the coach +at the wayside stage-house, whither Clarence and I had driven in the +new britshka to meet him. While the four fine coach-horses were +led off, and their successors harnessed in almost the twinkling of an +eye, Griff was with us; and we did nothing but laugh and poke fun at +each other all the way home, without a word of graver matters.</p> +<p>I was resolved, however, that Griff should know how terribly his +commission had added to Clarence’s danger, and how carefully the +secret had been guarded; and the first time I could get him alone, I +told him the whole.</p> +<p>The effect was one of his most overwhelming fits of laughter. +‘Poor old Bill! To think of his being accused of gallanting +about with barmaids!’ (an explosion at every pause) ‘and +revelling with officers! Poor old Bill! it was as bad as Malvolio +himself.’</p> +<p>When, indignant at the mirth excited by what had nearly cost us so +dear, I observed that these items had nearly turned the scale against +our brother, Griff demanded how we could have been such idiots as not +to have written to him; I might at least have had the sense to do so. +As to its doing him harm at Hillside, Parson Frank was no fool, and +knew what men were made of! Griff would have taken the risk, come +at once, and thrust the story down the fellow’s throat (as indeed +he would have done). The idea of Betsy putting up with a pious +young man like Bill, whose only flame had ever been old Miss Newton! +And he roared again at the incongruous pair. ‘Oh, wasn’t +she married after all, the hussy? She always had a dozen beaux, +and professed to be on the point of putting up her banns; so if the +earrings were not a wedding present, they might have been, ought to +have been, and would be some time or other.’</p> +<p>Then he patted me, and declared there was no occasion for my disgusted +looks, for no one knew better than himself that he had the best brace +of brothers in existence, wanting in nothing but common sense and knowledge +of the world. As to Betsy - faugh! I need not make myself +uneasy about her; she knew what a civil word was worth much better than +I did.</p> +<p>He showed considerable affection for Clarence after a fashion of +his own, which we three perfectly understood, and preferred to anything +more conventional. Griff was always delightful, and he was especially +so on that vacation, when every one was in high spirits; so that the +journey is, as I look back on it, like a spot of brilliant sunshine +in the distant landscape.</p> +<p>Mrs. Fordyce kept house with her father-in-law, little Anne, and +Martyn, whose holidays began a week after we had started. The +two children were allowed to make a desert island and a robbers’ +cave in the beech wood; and the adventures which their imaginations +underwent there completely threw ours into the shade.</p> +<p>The three ladies and I started in the big Hillside open carriage, +with my brothers on the box and the two fathers on horseback. +Frank Fordyce was a splendid rider, as indeed was the old rector, who +had followed the hounds, made a leap over a fearful chasm, still known +as the Parson’s Stride, and had been an excellent shot. +The renunciation of field sports had been a severe sacrifice to Frank +Fordyce, and showed of what excellent stuff he was made. He used +to say that it was his own fault that he had to give them up; another +man would have been less engrossed by them. Though he only read +by fits and starts when his enthusiasm was excited, he was thorough, +able, and acute, and his intelligence and sympathy were my father’s +best compensation for the loss of London society.</p> +<p>The two riders were a great contrast. Mr. Winslow had the thoroughly +well-appointed, somewhat precise, and highly-polished air of a barrister, +and a thin, somewhat worn and colourless face, with grizzled hair and +white whiskers; and though he rode well, with full command of his horse, +he was old enough to have chosen Chancery for her sterling qualities. +Parson Frank, on the other hand, though a thorough gentleman, was as +ruddy and weather-browned as any farmer, and - albeit his features were +handsome and refined, and his figure well poised and athletic - he lost +something of dignity by easiness of gesture and carelessness of dress, +except on state occasions, when he discarded his beloved rusty old coat +and Oxford mixture trousers, and came out magnificent enough for an +archdeacon, if not an archbishop; while his magnificent horse, Cossack, +was an animal that a sporting duke might have envied.</p> +<p>Nothing ever tired that couple, but my father had stipulated for +exchanges with Griffith. On these occasions it almost invariably +happened that there was a fine view for Ellen to see, so that she was +exalted to the box with Griffith to show it to her, and Chancery was +consigned to Clarence. Griff was wont to say that Chancery deserved +her name, and that he would defy the ninety-ninth part of a tailor to +come to harm with her; but Clarence was utterly unpractised in riding, +did not like it, was tormented lest Cossack’s antics should corrupt +Chancery, and was mortally afraid of breaking the knees of the precious +mare. Not all Parson Frank’s good advice and kindly raillery +would induce him to risk riding her on a descent; and as our travels +were entirely up and down hill, he was often left leading her far behind, +in hot sun or misty rain, and then would come cantering hastily up, +reckless of parallels with John Gilpin, and only anxious to be in time +to help me out at the halting-place; but more than once only coming +in when the beefsteaks were losing their first charm, and then good-humouredly +serving as the general butt for his noble horsemanship. Did any +one fully comprehend how much pleasanter our journey was through the +presence of one person entirely at the service of the others? +For my own part, it made an immense difference to have one pair of strong +arms and dextrous well-accustomed hands always at my service, enabling +me to accomplish what no one else, kind as all were, would have ventured +on letting me attempt. Primarily, he was my devoted slave; but +he was at the beck and call of every one, making the inquiries, managing +the bargains, going off in search of whatever was wanting - taking in +fact all the ‘must be dones’ of the journal. The contemplation +of Cossack and Chancery being rubbed down, and devouring their oats +was so delightful to Frank Fordyce and Griffith that they seldom wished +to shirk it; but if there were any more pleasing occupation, it was +a matter of course that Clarence should watch to see that the ostlers +did their duty by the animals - an obsolete ceremony, by the bye. +He even succeeded in hunting up and hiring a side saddle when the lovers, +with the masterfulness of their nature, devised appropriating the horses +at all the most beautiful places, in spite of Frank’s murmur, +‘What will mamma say?’ But, as Griff said, it was +a real mercy, for Ellen was infinitely more at her ease with Chancery +than was Clarence. Then Emily had Clarence to walk up the hills +with her, and help her in botany - her special department in our tour. +Mine was sketching, Ellen’s, keeping the journal, though we all +shared in each other’s work at times; and Griff, whose line was +decidedly love-making, interfered considerably with us all, especially +with our chronicler. I spare you the tour, young people; it lies +before me on the table, profusely illustrated and written in many hands. +As I turn it over, I see noble Dunster on its rock; Clarence leading +Chancery down Porlock Hill; Parson Frank in vain pursuit of his favourite +ancient hat over that wild and windy waste, the sheep running away from +him; a boat tossing at lovely Minehead; a ‘native’ bargaining +over a crab with my mother; the wonderful Valley of Rocks, and many +another scene, ludicrous or grand; for, indeed, we were for ever taking +the one step between the sublime and the ridiculous! I am inclined +to believe it is as well worth reading as many that have rushed into +print, and it is full of precious reminiscences to Emily and me; but +the younger generation may judge for itself, and it would be an interruption +here. The country we saw was of utterly unimagined beauty to the +untravelled eyes of most of us. I remember Ellen standing on Hartland +Point, with her face to the infinite expanse of the Atlantic, and waving +back Griff with ‘Oh, don’t speak to me.’ Yet +the sea was a delight above all to my mother and Clarence. To +them it was a beloved friend; and magnificent as was Lynmouth, wonderful +as was Clovelly, and glorious as was Hartland, I believe they would +equally have welcomed the waves if they had been on the flattest of +muddy shores! The ripple, plash, and roar were as familiar voices, +the salt smell as native air; and my mother never had thawed so entirely +towards Clarence as when she found him the only person who could thoroughly +participate her feeling.</p> +<p>At Minehead they stayed out, walking up and down together in the +summer twilight till long after every one else was tired out, and had +gone in; and when at last they appeared she was leaning on Clarence’s +arm, an unprecedented spectacle!</p> +<p>At Appledore, the only place on that rugged coast where boating tempted +them, there was what they called a pretty little breeze, but quite enough +to make all the rest of us decline venturing out into Bideford bay. +They, however, found a boatman and made a trip, which was evidently +such enjoyment to them, that my father, who had been a little restless +and uneasy all the time, declared on their return that he felt quite +jealous of Neptune, and had never known what a cruelty he was committing +in asking a sea-nymph to marry a London lawyer.</p> +<p>Mr. Fordyce told him he was afraid of being like the fisherman who +wedded a mermaid, and made Ellen tell the story in her own pretty way; +but while we were laughing over it, I saw my mother steal her hand into +my father’s and give it a strong grasp. Such gestures, which +she denominated pawing, when she witnessed them in Emily, were so alien +to her in general that no doubt this little action was infinitely expressive +to her husband. She was wonderfully softened, and Clarence implied +to me that it was the first time she had ever seemed to grieve for him +more than she despised him, or to recognise his deprivation more than +his disgrace, - implied, I say, for the words he used were little more +than - ‘You can’t think how nice she was to me.’</p> +<p>The regaining of esteem and self-respect was lessening Clarence’s +bashfulness, and bringing out his powers of conversation, so that he +began to be appreciated as a pleasant companion, answering Griff’s +raillery in like fashion, and holding his own in good-natured repartee. +Mr. Fordyce got on excellently with him in their tête-à-têtes +(who would not with Parson Frank?), and held him in higher estimation +than did Ellen. To her, honesty was common, tame, and uninteresting +in comparison with heroism; and Griff’s vague statement that Clarence +was the best brother in the world did not go for much. Emily and +I longed to get the two better acquainted, but it did not become possible +while Griff absorbed the maiden as his exclusive property.</p> +<p>The engagement was treated as an avowed and settled thing, though +I do not know that there had been a formal ratification by the parents; +but in truth Mrs. Fordyce must have tacitly yielded her consent when +she permitted her daughter to make the journey under the guardianship +of Parson Frank. After a walk in the ravine of Lynton, we became +aware of a ring upon Ellen’s finger; and Emily was allowed at +night to hear how and when it had been put on.</p> +<p>Ellen only slightly deepened her lovely carnation tints when her +father indulged in a little tender teasing and lamentation over himself. +She was thoroughly happy and proud of her hero, and not ashamed of owning +it.</p> +<p>There was one evening when she and I were sitting with our sketchbooks +in the shade on the beech at Ilfracombe, while the rest had gone, some +to bathe, the others to make purchases in the town. We had been +condoling with one another over the impossibility of finding anything +among our water-colours that would express the wondrous tints before +our eyes.</p> +<p>‘No, nothing can do it,’ I said at last; ‘we can +only make a sort of blot to assist our memories.’</p> +<p>‘Sunshine outside and in!’ said Ellen. ‘The +memory of such days as these can never fade away, - no, nor thankfulness +for them, I hope.’</p> +<p>Something then passed about the fact that it was quite possible to +go on in complete content in a quiet monotonous life, in an oyster-like +way, till suddenly there was an unveiling and opening of unimagined +capacities of enjoyment - as by a scene like this before us, by a great +poem, an oratorio, or, as I supposed, by Niagara or the Alps. +Ellen put it - ‘Oh! and by feelings for the great and good!’ +Dear girl, her colour deepened, and I am sure she meant her bliss in +her connection with her hero. Presently, however, she passed on +to saying how such revelations of unsuspected powers of enjoyment helped +one to enter into what was meant by ‘Eye hath not seen, nor ear +heard, neither hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive, the +things that God hath prepared for them that love him.’ Then +there was a silence, and an inevitable quoting of the <i>Christian Year</i>, +the guide to all our best thoughts -</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘But patience, there may come a time.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>And then a turning to the ‘Ode to Immortality,’ for Wordsworth +was our second leader, and we carried him on our tour as our one secular +book, as Keble was our one religious book. We felt that the principal +joy of all this beauty and delight was because there was something beyond. +Presently Ellen said, prettily and shyly, ‘I am sure all this +has opened much more to me than I ever thought of. I always used +to be glad that we had no brothers, because our cousins were not always +pleasant with us; but now I have learnt what valuable possessions they +are,’ she added, with the sweetest, prettiest glance of her bright +eyes.</p> +<p>I ventured to say that I was glad she said they, and hoped it was +a sign that she was finding out Clarence.</p> +<p>‘I have found out that I behaved so ill to him that I have +been ashamed ever since to look at him or speak to him,’ said +Ellen; ‘I long to ask his pardon, but I believe that would distress +him more than anything.’</p> +<p>In which she was right; and I was able to tell her of the excuses +there had been for the poor boy, how he had suffered, and how he had +striven to conquer his failings; and she replied that the words ‘Judge +not, that ye be not judged,’ always smote her with the remembrance +of her disdainfully cantering past him. There was a tear on her +eye-lashes, and it drew from me an apology for having brought a painful +recollection into our bright day.</p> +<p>‘There must be shade to throw up the lights,’ she said, +with her sparkling look.</p> +<p>Was it shade that we never fell into one of these grave talks when +Griffith was present, and that the slightest approach to them was sure +to be turned by him into jest?</p> +<p>We made our journey a little longer than we intended, crossing the +moors so as to spend a Sunday at Exeter; but Frank Fordyce left us, +not liking to give his father the entire duty of a third Sunday.</p> +<p>Emily says she has come to have a superstition that extensions of +original plans never turn out well, and certainly some of the charm +of our journey departed with the merry, genial Parson Frank. Our +mother was more anxious about Ellen, and put more restrictions on the +lovers than when the father was present to sanction their doings. +Griffith absolutely broke out against her in a way he had never ventured +before, when she forbade Ellen’s riding with him when he wanted +to hire a horse at Lydford and take an excursion on the moor before +joining us at Okehampton.</p> +<p>My father looked up, and said, ‘Griffith, I am surprised at +you.’ He was constrained to mutter some apology, and I believe +Ellen privately begged my mother’s pardon, owning her to have +been quite right; but, by the dear girl, the wonderful cascade and narrow +gorge were seen through swollen eyes. And poor Clarence must have +had a fine time of it when Griffith had to ride off with him <i>faute +de mieux.</i></p> +<p>All was cleared off, however, when we met again, for Griff’s +storms were very fleeting, and Ellen treated him as if she had to make +her own peace with him. She sacrificed her own enjoyment of Exeter +Cathedral to go about with him when he had had enough of it, but on +Sunday afternoon she altogether declined to walk with him till after +the second service. He laughed at her supposed passion for sacred +music, and offered to wait with her to hear the anthem from the nave. +‘No,’ she said, ‘that would be amusing ourselves instead +of worshipping.’</p> +<p>‘We’ve done our devoir in that way already,’ said +Griff. ‘Paid our dues.’</p> +<p>‘One can’t,’ cried Ellen, with an eager look. +‘One longs to do all the more when He has just let us have such +a taste of His beautiful things.’</p> +<p>‘<i>One</i>, perhaps, when one is a little saint,’ returned +Griff.</p> +<p>‘Oh don’t, Griff! I’m not <i>that</i>; but +you know every one wants all the help and blessing that can be got. +And then it is so delightful!’</p> +<p>He gave a long whistle. ‘Every one to his taste,’ +he said; ‘especially you ladies.’</p> +<p>He did come to the Cathedral with us, but he had more than half spoilt +this last Sunday. Did he value her for what was best in her, or +was her influence raising him?</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI - C. MORBUS, ESQ.</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears,<br />The plaintive +voice alone she hears,<br /> Sees but the dying man.’</p> +<p>SCOTT.</p> +<p>C. Morbus, Esq. Such was the card that some wicked wag, one +of Clarence’s fellow-clerks probably, left at his lodgings in +the course of the epidemic which was beginning its ravages even while +we were upon our pleasant journey - a shade indeed to throw out the +light.</p> +<p>In these days, the tidings of a visitation of cholera are heard with +compassion for crowded towns, but without special alarm for ourselves +or our friends, since its conditions and the mode of combating it have +come to be fairly understood.</p> +<p>In 1832, however, it was a disease almost unknown and unprecedented +except in its Indian abode, whence it had advanced city by city, seaport +by seaport, sweeping down multitudes before it; nor had science yet +discovered how to encounter or forestall it. We heard of it in +a helpless sort of way, as if it had been the plague or the Black Death, +and thought of its victims as doomed.</p> +<p>That terrible German engraving, ‘Death as a Foe,’ which +represents the grisly form as invading a ballroom in Paris, is an expression +of the feeling with which the scourge was regarded on that first occasion. +<i>Two Years Ago</i> gives some notion of the condition of things in +1849, but by that time there had been some experience, and means of +prevention were better understood. On the alarm in that year there +was a great inspection of cottages throughout Earlscombe and Hillside, +but in 1832 there was no notion of such precautions. Nevertheless, +on neither visitation, nor any subsequent one, has the disease come +nearer to us than Bristol.</p> +<p>As far as memory serves me, the idea was that wholesome food, regular +habits, and cleanliness were some protection, but one locality might +be as dangerous as another. There had been cases in London all +the spring, but no special anxiety was felt when Clarence returned to +his work in the end of July, much refreshed and invigorated by his holiday, +and with the understanding that he was to have a rise in position and +salary on Mr. Castleford’s return from Ireland, where he was still +staying with his wife’s relations. Clarence was received +at the office with a kind of shamefaced cordiality, as if every one +would fain forget the way in which he had been treated; and he was struck +by finding that all the talk was of the advances of the cholera, chiefly +at Rotherhithe. And a great shock awaited him. He went, +as soon as business hours were over, to thank good old Miss Newton for +the comfort and aid she had unwittingly given him, and to tell her from +what she had saved him. Alas! it was the last benefit she was +ever to confer on her old pupil. At the door he was told by a +weeping, terrified maid that she was very ill with cholera, and that +no hope was given. He tried to send up a message, but she was +in a state of collapse and insensible; and when he inquired the next +morning, the gentle spirit had passed away.</p> +<p>He attended her funeral that same evening. Griff said it was +a proof how your timid people will do the most foolhardy things; but +Clarence always held that the good woman had really done more for him +than any one in actually establishing a contact, so to say, between +his spirit and external truth, and he thought no mark of respect beyond +her deserts. She was a heavy loss to him, for no one else in town +gave him the sense of home kindness; and there was much more to depress +him, for several of his Sunday class were dead, and the school had been +broken up for the time, while the heats and the fruits of August contributed +to raise the mortality.</p> +<p>His return had released a couple more clerks for their holiday; it +was a slack time of year, with less business in hand than usual, and +the place looked empty. Mr. Frith worked on as usual, but preserved +an ungracious attitude, as though he were either still incredulous or, +if convinced against his will, resolved that ‘that prig of a Winslow’ +should not presume upon his services. Altogether the poor fellow +was quite unhinged, and wrote such dismal bills of mortality, and meek, +resigned forebodings that my father was almost angry, declaring that +he would frighten himself into the sickness; yet I suppressed a good +deal, and never told them of the last will and testament in which he +distributed his possessions amongst us. Griff said he had a great +mind to go and shake old Bill up and row him well, but he never did.</p> +<p>More than a week passed by, two of Clarence’s regular days +for writing, but no letter came. My mother grew uneasy, and talked +of writing to Mrs. Robson, or, as we still called her, Gooch; but it +was doubtful whether the answer would contain much information, and +it was quite certain that any ill tidings would be sent to us.</p> +<p>At last we did hear, and found, as we had foreboded, that the letter +had not been written for fear of alarming us, or carrying infection, +though Clarence underlined the words ‘I am perfectly well.’</p> +<p>Having to take a message into the senior partner’s room, Clarence +had found the old man crouched over the table, writhing in the unmistakable +grip of the deadly enemy. No one else was available; Clarence +had to collect himself, send for the doctor, and manage the conveyance +of the patient to his rooms, which fortunately adjoined the office; +for, through all his influx of wealth, Mr. Frith had retained the habits +and expenditure of his early struggling days. His old housekeeper +and her drudge showed themselves terrified out of their senses, and +as incapable as unwilling. Naval experience, and waiting on me, +had taught Clarence helpfulness and handiness; and though this was the +very thing that had appalled his imagination, he seemed, as he said +afterwards, ‘to have got beyond his fright’ to the use of +his commonsense. And when at last the doctor came, and talked +of finding a nurse, if possible, for they were scarce articles, the +sufferer only entreated between his paroxysms, ‘Stay, Winslow! +Is Winslow there? Don’t go! Don’t leave me!’</p> +<p>No nurse was to be found, but to Clarence’s amazement Gooch +arrived. He had sent by the office boy to explain his absence; +and before night the faithful woman descended on him, intending, as +in her old days of authority, simply to put Master Clarry out of harm’s +way, and take the charge upon herself. Then, as he proved unmanageable +and would not leave his patient, neither would she leave him, and through +the frightful night that ensued, there was quite employment enough for +them both. Gooch fully thought the end would come before morning, +and was murmuring something about a clergyman, but was cut short by +a sharp prohibition. However, detecting Clarence’s lips +moving, the old man said, ‘Eh! speak it out!’ ‘And +with difficulty, feeling as if I were somebody else,’ said Clarence, +‘I did get out some short words of prayer. It seemed so +awful for him to die without any.’</p> +<p>When the doctor came in early morning, the watchers were astonished +to hear that their charge had taken a turn for the better, and might +recover if their admirable care were continued. The doctor had +brought a nurse; but Mr. Frith would not let her come into the room, +and there was plenty of need for her elsewhere.</p> +<p>Several days of unremitting care followed, during which Clarence +durst not write to us, so little were the laws of infection understood. +Good Mrs. Robson stayed all the time, and probably saved Clarence from +falling a victim to his zeal, for she looked after him as anxiously +as after the sick man; and with a wondering and thankful heart, he found +himself in full health, when both were set free to return home. +Clarence had written at the beginning of the illness to the only relations +of whose existence or address he was aware, an old sister, Mrs. Stevens, +and a young great-nephew in the office at Liverpool; and the consequence +was the arrival of a sour-looking, old widow sister, who came to take +charge of the convalescence, and, as the indignant Gooch overheard her +say, ‘to prevent that young Winslow from getting round him.’</p> +<p>There were no signs of such a feat having been performed, when, the +panic being past, my father went up to London with Griffith, who was +to begin eating his terms at the Temple. He was to share Clarence’s +lodgings, for the Robsons had plenty of room, and Gooch was delighted +to extend her cares to her special favourite, as she already reigned +over Clarence’s wardrobe and table as entirely as in nursery days; +and, to my great exultation, my father said it would be good for Griffith +to be with his brother; and, moreover, we should hear of the latter. +Nothing could be a greater contrast than his rare notifications or requests, +scrawled on a single side of the quarto sheet, with Clarence’s +regular weekly lines of clerkly manuscript, telling all that could interest +any of us, and covering every available flap up to the blank circle +left for the trim red seal.</p> +<p>Promotion had come to Clarence in the natural course of seniority, +and a small sum, due to him on his coming of age, was invested in the +house of business, so that the two brothers could take between them +all the Robsons’ available rooms. Clarence’s post +was one of considerable trust; but there were no tokens of special favour, +except that Mr. Frith was more civil to my father than usual, and when +he heard of the arrangement about the lodgings, he snarled out, ‘Hm! +Law student indeed! Don’t let him spoil his brother!’</p> +<p>Which was so far an expression of gratitude that it showed that he +considered that there was something to be spoilt. Mr. Castleford, +however, showed real satisfaction in the purchase of a share in the +concern for Clarence. His own eldest son inherited a good deal +of his mother’s Irish nature, and was evidently unfit to be anything +but a soldier, and the next was so young that he was glad to have a +promising and trustworthy young man, from whom a possible joint head +of the firm might be manufactured.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII - PETER’S THUNDERBOLT</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>If you can separate yourself and your misdemeanours you are welcome +to the house; if not, an it would please you to take leave of her, she +is very willing to bid you farewell.’</p> +<p><i>Twelfth Night.</i></p> +<p>In the early summer of 1833, we had the opportunity of borrowing +a friend’s house in Portman Square for six weeks, and we were +allowed to take Ellen with us for introduction to the Admiral and other +old friends, while we were to make acquaintance with her connections +- the family of Sir Horace Lester, M.P.</p> +<p>We were very civil; but there were a good many polite struggles for +the exclusive possession of Ellen, whom both parties viewed as their +individual right; and her unselfish good-humour and brightness must +have carried her over more worries than we guessed at the time.</p> +<p>She had stayed with the Lesters before, but in schoolroom days. +They were indolent and uninterested, and had never shown her any of +the permanent wonders of London, despising these as only fit for country +cousins, whereas we had grown up to think of them with intelligent affection. +To me, however, much was as new as to Ellen. Country life had +done so much for me that I could venture on what I had never attempted +before. The Admiral said it was getting away from doctors and +their experiments, but I had also done with the afflictions of attempts +at growth in wrong directions. Old friends did not know me, and +more than once, as I sat in the carriage, addressed me for one of my +brothers - a compliment which, Griff said, turned my head. Happily +I was too much accustomed to my own appearance, and people were too +kind, for me to have much shyness on that score. Our small dinner +parties were great enjoyment to me, and the two girls were very happy +in their little gaieties.</p> +<p>Braham and Catalani, Fanny Kemble, and Turner’s landscapes +at his best, rise in my memory as supreme delights and revelations in +their different lines, and awakening trains of thought; and then there +was that entertainment which Griffith and Clarence gave us in their +rooms, when they regaled us with all the delicacies of the season, and +Peter and Gooch looked all pride and hospitality! The dining-parlour, +or what served as such, was Griff’s property, as any one could +see by the pictures of horses, dogs, and ladies, the cups, whips, and +boxing-gloves that adorned it; the sitting-room had tokens of other +occupation, in Clarence’s piano, window-box of flowers, and his +one extravagance in engravings from Raffaelle, and a marine water-colour +or two, besides all my own attempts at family portraits, with a case +of well-bound books. Those two rooms were perfectly redolent of +their masters - I say it literally - for the scent of flowers was in +Clarence’s room, and in Griff’s, the odour of cigars had +not wholly been destroyed even by much airing. For in those days +it was regarded by parents and guardians as an objectionable thing.</p> +<p>Peter was radiant on that occasion; but a few evenings later, when +all were gone to an evening party except my father and myself, Mr. Robson +was announced as wishing to speak to Mr. Winslow. After the civilities +proper to the visit of an old servant had passed, he entered with obvious +reluctance on the purpose of his visit, namely, his dissatisfaction +with Griff as a lodger. His wife, he said, would not have had +him speak, she was <i>that</i> attached to Mr. Griffith, it couldn’t +be more if he was her own son; nor was it for want of liking for the +young gentleman on his part, as had known him from a boy, ‘but +the wife of one’s bosom must come first, sir, as stands to reason, +and it’s for the good of the young gentleman himself, and his +family, as some one should speak. I never said one word against +it when she would not be satisfied without running the risk of her life +after Mr. Clarence; hattending of Mr. Frith in the cholery. That +was only her dooty, sir, and I have never a word to say against dooty: +but I cannot see her nearly wore out, and for no good to nobody.’</p> +<p>It appeared that Mrs. Robson was ‘pretty nigh wore out, a setting +up for Mr. Griffith’s untimely hours.’ ‘He laughed +and coaxed - what I calls cajoling - did Mr. Griff, to get a latch-key; +but we knows our dooty too well for that, and Mrs. Winslow had made +us faithfully promise, when Master Clarence first came to us, that he +should never have a latch-key, - Mr. Clarence, as had only been five +times later than eleven o’clock, and then he was going to dine +with Mr. Castleford, or to the theayter, and spoke about it beforehand. +If he was not reading to poor Miss Newton, as was gone, or with some +of his language-masters, he was setting at home with his books and papers, +not giving no trouble to nobody, after he had had his bit of bread and +cheese and glass of beer to his supper.’</p> +<p>Ay, Peter knew what young gentlemen was. He did not expect +to see them all like poor Master Clarence, as had had his troubles; +the very life knocked out of him in his youth, as one might say. +Indeed Peter would be pleased to see him a bit more sprightly, and taking +more to society and hamusements of his hage. Nor would there be +any objection if the late ’ours was only once a week or so, and +things was done in a style fitting the family; but when it came to mostly +every night, often to two or three o’clock, it was too much for +Mrs. Robson, for she would never go to bed, being mortal afraid of fire, +and not always certain that Mr. Griffith was - to say - fit to put out +his candle. ‘What do you mean, Peter?’ thundered my +father, whose brow had been getting more and more furrowed every moment. +‘Say it out! - Drunk?’</p> +<p>‘Well sir, no, no, not to say that exactly, but a little excited, +sir, and women is timid. No sir, not to call intoxicated.’</p> +<p>‘No, that’s to come,’ muttered my father. +‘Has this often happened?’</p> +<p>Peter did not think that it had been noticed more than three times +at the most; but he went on to offer his candid and sensible advice +that Mr. Griffith should be placed in a family where there was a gentleman +or lady who would have some hauthority, and could not be put aside with +his good-’umoured haffability - ‘You’re an old fogy, +Peter.’ ‘Never mind, Nursey, I’ll be a good +boy next time,’ and the like. ‘It is a disadvantage +you see, sir, to have been in his service, and ’tis for the young +gentleman’s own good as I speaks; but it would be better if he +were somewheres else - unless you would speak to him, sir.’</p> +<p>To the almost needless question whether Clarence had been with his +brother on these occasions, there was a most decided negative. +He had never gone out with Griffith except once to the theatre, and +to dine at the Castlefords, and at first he had sat up for his return, +‘but it led to words between the young gentlemen,’ said +Peter, whose confidences were becoming reckless; and it appeared that +when Clarence had found that Gooch would not let him spare her vigil, +he had obeyed her orders and ceased to share it.</p> +<p>Peter was thanked for the revelations, which had been a grievous +effort to him, and dismissed. My father sat still in great distress +and perplexity, asking me whether Clarence had ever told me anything +of this, and I had barely time to answer ‘No’ before Clarence +himself came in, from what Peter called his language-master. He +was taking lessons in French and Spanish, finding a knowledge of these +useful in business. To his extreme distress, my father fell on +him at once, demanding what he knew of the way Griffith was spending +his time, ‘coming home at all sorts of hours in a disreputable +condition. No prevarication, sir,’ he added, as the only +too familiar look of consternation and bewilderment came over Clarence’s +face. ‘You are doing your brother no good by conniving at +his conduct. Speak truth, if you can,’ he added, with more +cruelty than he knew, in his own suffering.</p> +<p>‘Sir,’ gasped Clarence, ‘I know Griff often comes +home after I am in bed, but I do not know the exact time, nor anything +more.’</p> +<p>‘Is this all you can tell me? Really all?’</p> +<p>‘All I know - that is - of my own knowledge,’ said Clarence, +recovering a little, but still unable to answer without hesitation, +which vexed my father.</p> +<p>‘What do you mean by that? Do you hear nothing?’</p> +<p>‘I am afraid,’ said Clarence, ‘that I do not see +as much of him as I had hoped. He is not up till after I have +to be at our place, and he does not often spend an evening at home. +He is such a popular fellow, and has so many friends and engagements.’</p> +<p>‘Ay, and of what sort? Can’t you tell? or will +you not? I sent him up to you, thinking you a steady fellow who +might influence him for good.’</p> +<p>The colour rushed into Clarence’s face, as he answered, looking +up and speaking low, ‘Have I not forfeited all such hopes?’</p> +<p>‘Nonsense! You’ve lived down that old story long +ago. You would make your mark, if you only showed a little manliness +and force of character. Griffith was always fond of you. +Can’t you do anything to hinder him from ruining his own life +and that sweet girl’s happiness?’</p> +<p>‘I would - I would give my life to do so!’ exclaimed +Clarence, in warm, eager tones. ‘I have tried, but he says +I know nothing about it, and it is very dull at our rooms for him. +I have got used to it, but you can’t expect a fellow like Griff +to stay at home, with no better company than me, and do nothing but +read law.’</p> +<p>‘Then you <i>do</i> know,’ began my father; but Clarence, +with full self-possession, said, ‘I think you had better ask me +no more questions, papa. I really know nothing, or hardly anything, +personally of his proceedings. I went to one supper with him, +after going to the play, and did not fancy it; besides, it almost unfitted +me for my morning’s work; nor does it answer for me to sit up +for him - it only vexes him, as if I were watching him.’</p> +<p>‘Did you ever see him come home showing traces of excess?’</p> +<p>‘No!’ said Clarence, ‘I never saw!’ and, +under a stern, distressed look, ‘Once I heard tones that - that +startled me, and Mrs. Robson has grumbled a good deal - but I think +Peter takes it for more than it is worth.’</p> +<p>‘I see,’ said my father more gently; ‘I will not +press you farther. I believe I ought to be glad that these habits +are only hearsay to you.’</p> +<p>‘As far as I can see,’ said Clarence diffidently, but +quite restored to himself, ‘Griff is only like most of his set, +young men who go into society.’</p> +<p>‘Oh!’ said my father, in a ‘that’s your opinion’ +kind of tone; and as at that moment the yell of a newsboy was heard +in the street, he exclaimed that he must go and get an evening paper. +Clarence made a step to go instead, but was thrust back, as apparently +my father merely wanted an excuse for rushing into the open air to recover +the shock or to think it over.</p> +<p>Clarence gave a kind of groan, and presently exclaimed, ‘If +only untruth were not such a sin!’ and, on my exclamation of dismay, +he added, ‘I don’t think a blowing up ever does good!’</p> +<p>‘But this state of things should not last.’</p> +<p>‘It will not. It would have come to an end without Peter’s +springing this mine. Griff says he can’t stand Gooch any +longer! And really she does worry him intolerably.’</p> +<p>‘Peter professed to come without her knowledge or consent.’</p> +<p>‘Exactly so. It will almost break the good old soul’s +heart for Griff to leave her; but she expects to have him in hand as +if he was in the nursery. She is ever so much worse than she was +with me, and he is really good-nature itself to laugh off her nagging +as he does - about what he chooses to put on, or eating, or smoking, +or leaving his room untidy, as well as other things.’</p> +<p>‘And those other things? Do you suspect more than you +told papa?’</p> +<p>‘It amounts to no more. Griff likes amusement, and everybody +likes him - that’s all. Yes, I know my father read law ten +hours a day, but his whole nature and circumstances were different. +I don’t believe Griff could go on in that way.’</p> +<p>‘Not with such a hope before him? You would, Clarence.’</p> +<p>His face and not his tongue answered me, but he added, ‘Griff +is sure of <i>that</i> without so much labour and trouble.’</p> +<p>‘And do you see so little of him?’</p> +<p>‘I can’t help it. I can’t keep his hours +and do my work. Yes, I know we are drifting apart; I wish I could +help it, but being coupled up together makes it rather worse than better. +It aggravates him, and he will really get on better without Gooch to +worry him, and thrust my droning old ways down his throat, - as if Prince +Hal could bear to be twitted with “that sober boy, Lord John of +Lancaster.” Not,’ he added, catching himself up, ‘that +I meant to compare him to the madcap Prince. He is the finest +of fellows, if they only would let him alone.’</p> +<p>And that was all I could get from Clarence.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII - A SQUIRE OF DAMES</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p> ‘Spited with a fool -<br />Spited and angered +both.’</p> +<p><i>Cymbeline.</i></p> +<p>This long stay of Ellen’s in our family had made our fraternal +relations with her nearer and closer. Familiarity had been far +from lessening our strong feeling for her goodness and sweetness. +Emily, who knew her best, used to confide to me little instances of +the spirit of devotion and self-discipline that underlay all her sunny +gaiety - how she never failed in her morning’s devout readings; +how she learnt a verse or two of Scripture every day, and persuaded +Emily to join with her in repeating it ere they went downstairs for +their evening’s pleasure; how she had set herself a little task +of plain work for the poor, which she did every day in her own room; +and the like dutiful habits, which seemed, as it were, to help her to +keep herself in hand, and not be carried away by what was a whirl of +pleasure to her, though a fashionable young lady would have despised +its mildness.</p> +<p>Indeed Lady Peacock, with whom we exchanged calls, made no secret +of her compassion when she found how many parties the ladies were <i>not</i> +going to; and Ellen’s own relations, the Lesters, would have taken +her out almost every night if she had not staunchly held to her promise +to her mother not to go out more than three evenings in the week, for +Mrs. Fordyce knew her to be delicate, and feared late hours for her. +The vexation her cousins manifested made her feel the more bound to +give them what time she could, at hours when Griffith was not at liberty. +She did not like them to be hurt, and jealous of us, or to feel forsaken, +and she tried to put her affection for us on a different footing by +averring that ‘it was not the same kind of thing - Emily was her +sister.’</p> +<p>One day she had gone to luncheon with the Lesters in Cavendish Square, +and was to be called for in the carriage by me, on the way to take up +the other two ladies, who were shopping in Regent Street.</p> +<p>Ellen came running downstairs, with her cheeks in a glow under the +pink satin lining of her pretty bonnet, and her eyes sparkling with +indignation, which could not but break forth.</p> +<p>‘I don’t know how I shall ever go there again!’ +she exclaimed; ‘they have no right to say such things!’ +Then she explained. Mary and Louisa had been saying horrid things +about Griffith - her Griff! It was always their way. Think +how Horace had made her treat Clarence! It was their way and habit +to tease, and call it fun, and she had never minded it before; but this +was too bad. Would not I put it in her power to give a flat contradiction, +such as would make them ashamed of themselves?</p> +<p>Contradict what?</p> +<p>Then it appeared that the Misses Lester had laughed at her, who was +so very particular and scrupulous, for having taken up with a regular +young man about town. Oh no, <i>they</i> did not think much of +it - no doubt he was only just like other people; only the funny thing +was that it should be Ellen, for whom it was always supposed that no +saint in the calendar, no knight in all the Waverley novels, would be +good enough! And then, on her hot desire to know what they meant, +they quoted John, the brother in the Guards, as having been so droll +about poor Ellen’s perfect hero, and especially at his straight-laced +Aunt Fordyce having been taken in, - but of course it was the convenience +of joining the estates, and it was agreeable to see that your very good +folk could wink at things like other people in such a case. Then, +when Ellen fairly drove her inquiries home, in her absolute trust of +confuting all slanders, she was told that Griffith did, what she called +‘all sorts of things - billiards and all that.’ And +even that he was always running after a horrid Lady Peacock, a gay widow.</p> +<p>‘They went on in fun,’ said Ellen, ‘and laughed +the more when - yes, I am afraid I did - I lost my temper. No, +don’t say I well might, I know I ought not; but I told them I +knew all about Lady Peacock, and that you were all old friends, even +before he rescued her from the Bristol riots and brought her home to +Chantry House; and that only made Mary merrier than ever, and say, “What, +another distressed damsel? Take care, Ellen; I would not trust +such a squire of dames.” And then Louisa chimed in, “Oh +no, you see this Peacock dame was only conducted, like Princess Micomicona +and all the rest of them, to the feet of his peerless Dulcinea!” +And then I heard the knock, and I was never so glad in my life!’</p> +<p>‘Well!’ I could not help remarking, ‘I have heard +of women’s spitefulness, but I never believed it till now.’</p> +<p>‘I really don’t think it was altogether what you call +malice, so much as the Lester idea of fun,’ said Ellen, recovering +herself after her outpouring. ‘A very odd notion I always +thought it was; and Mary and Louisa are not really ill-natured, and +cannot wish to do the harm they might have done, if I did not know Griff +too well.’</p> +<p>Then, after considering a little, she said, blushing, ‘I believe +I have told you more than I ought, Edward - I couldn’t help having +it out; but please don’t tell any one, especially that shocking +way of speaking of mamma, which they could not really mean.’</p> +<p>‘No one could who knew her.’</p> +<p>‘Of course not. I’ll tell you what I mean to do. +I will write to Mary when we go in, and tell her that I know she really +cares for me enough to be glad that her nonsense has done no mischief, +and, though I was so foolish and wrong as to fly into a passion, of +course I know it is only her way, and I do not believe one word of it.’</p> +<p>Somehow, as she looked with those radiant eyes full of perfect trust, +I could not help longing not to have heard Peter Robson’s last +night’s complaint; but family feeling towards outsiders overcomes +many a misgiving, and my wrath against the malignity of the Lesters +was quite as strong as if I had been devoid of all doubts whether Griff +wore to all other eyes the same halo of pure glory with which Ellen +invested him.</p> +<p>Such doubts were very transient. Dear old Griff was too delightful, +too bright and too brave, too ardent and too affectionate, not to dispel +all clouds by the sunshine he carried about with him. If rest +and reliance came with Clarence, zest and animation came with Griffith. +He managed to take the initiative by declining to remain any longer +with the Robsons, saying they had been spoilt by such a model lodger +as Clarence, who would let Gooch feed him on bread and milk and boiled +mutton, and put on his clean pinafore if she chose to insist; whereas +her indignation, when Griff found fault with the folding of his white +ties, amounted to ‘<i>Et tu Brute</i>,’ and he really feared +she would have had a fit when he ordered devilled kidneys for breakfast. +He was sure her determination to tuck him up every night and put out +his candle was shortening her life; and he had made arrangements to +share the chambers of a friend who had gone through school and college +with him. There was no objection to the friend, who had stayed +at Chantry House and was an agreeable, lively, young man, well reported +of, satisfactorily connected, fairly industrious, and in good society, +so that Griff was likely to be much less exposed to temptation of the +lower kinds than when left to his own devices, or only with Clarence, +who had neither time nor disposition to share his amusements.</p> +<p>There was a scene with my father, but in private; and all that came +to general knowledge was that Griff felt himself injured by any implication +that he was given to violent or excessive dissipation, such as could +wreck Ellen’s happiness or his own character.</p> +<p>He declared with all his heart that immediate marriage would be the +best thing for both, and pleaded earnestly for it; but my father could +not have arranged for it even if the Fordyces would have consented, +and there were matters of business, as well as other reasons, which +made it inexpedient for them to revoke their decision that the wedding +should not take place before Ellen was of age and Griffith called to +the bar.</p> +<p>So we took our young ladies home, loaded with presents for their +beloved school children, of whom Emily said she dreamt, as the time +for seeing them again drew near. After all the London enjoyment, +it was pretty to see the girls’ delight in the fresh country sights +and sounds in full summer glory, and how Ellen proved to have been hungering +after all her dear ones at home. When we left her at her own door, +our last sight of her was in her father’s arms, little Anne clinging +to her dress, mother and grandfather as close to her as could be - a +perfect tableau of a joyous welcome.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX - LOVE AND OBEDIENCE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Unless he give me all in change<br /> I forfeit +all things by him;<br />The risk is terrible and strange.’</p> +<p>MRS. BROWNING.</p> +<p>You will be weary of my lengthiness; and perhaps I am lingering too +long over the earlier portion of my narrative. Something is due +to the disproportion assumed in our memories by the first twenty years +of existence - something, perhaps, to reluctance to passing from comparative +sunshine to shadow. There was still a period of brightness, but +it was so uneventful that I have no excuse for dwelling on it further +than to say that Henderson, our excellent curate, had already made a +great difference in the parish, and it was beginning to be looked on +as almost equal to Hillside. The children were devoted to Emily, +who was the source of all the amenities of their poor little lives. +The needlework of the school was my mother’s pride; and our church +and its services, though you would shudder at them now, were then thought +presumptuously superior ‘for a country parish.’ They +were a real delight and blessing to us, as well as to many more of the +flock, who still, in their old age, remember and revere Parson Henderson +as a sort of apostle.</p> +<p>The dawning of the new Poor-Law led to investigations which revealed +the true conditions of the peasant’s life - its destitution, recklessness, +and dependence. We tried to mend matters by inducing families +to emigrate, but this renewed the distrust which had at first beheld +in the schools an attempt to enslave the children. Even accounts, +sent home by the exceptionally enterprising who did go to Canada, were, +we found, scarcely trusted. Amos Bell, who would have gone, if +he had not been growing into my special personal attendant, was letter-writer +and reader to all his relations, and revealed to us that it had been +agreed that no letter should be considered as genuine unless it bore +a certain private mark. To be sure, the accounts of prosperity +might well sound fabulous to the toilers and moilers at home. +Harriet Martineau’s <i>Hamlets</i>, which we lent to many of our +neighbours, is a fair picture of the state of things. We much +enjoyed those tales, and Emily says they were the only political economy +she ever learnt.</p> +<p>The model arrangements of our vestries led to a summons to my father +and the younger Mr. Fordyce to London, to be examined on the condition +of the pauper, and the working of the old Elizabethan Poor-Law.</p> +<p>They were absent for about a fortnight of early spring, and Emily +and I could not help observing that our mother was unusually uncommunicative +about my father’s letters; and, moreover, there was a tremendous +revolution of the furniture, a far more ominous token in our household +than any comet.</p> +<p>The truth came on us when the two fathers returned. Mine told +me himself that Frank Fordyce was so much displeased with Griffith’s +conduct that he had declared that the engagement could not continue +with his consent.</p> +<p>This from good-natured, tender-hearted Parson Frank!</p> +<p>I cried out hotly that ‘those Lesters’ had done this. +They had always been set against us, and any one could talk over Mr. +Frank. My father shook his head. He said Frank Fordyce was +not weak, but all the stronger for his gentleness and charity; and, +moreover, that he was quite right - to our shame and grief be it spoken +- quite right.</p> +<p>It was true that the first information had been given by Sir Horace +Lester, Mrs. Fordyce’s brother, but it had not been lightly spoken +like the daughter’s chatter; and my father himself had found it +only too true, so that he could not conscientiously call Griffith worthy +of such a creature as Ellen Fordyce.</p> +<p>Poor Griff, he had been idle and impracticable over his legal studies, +which no persuasion would make him view as otherwise than a sort of +nominal training for a country gentleman; nor had he ever believed or +acted upon the fact that the Earlscombe property was not an unlimited +fortune, such as would permit him to dispense with any profession, and +spend time and money like the youths with whom he associated. +Still, this might have been condoned as part of the effervescence which +had excited him ever since my father had succeeded to the estate, and +patience might still have waited for greater wisdom; but there had been +graver complaints of irregularities, which were forcing his friend to +dissolve partnership with him. There was evidence of gambling, +which he not only admitted, but defended; and, moreover, he was known +at parties, at races, and at the theatre, as one of the numerous satellites +who revolved about that gay and conspicuous young fashionable widow, +Lady Peacock.</p> +<p>‘Yes, Frank has every right to be angry,’ said my father, +pacing the room. ‘I can’t wonder at him. I should +do the same; but it is destroying the best hope for my poor boy.’</p> +<p>Then he began to wish Clarence had more - he knew not what to call +it - in him; something that might keep his brother straight. For, +of course, he had talked to Clarence and discovered how very little +the brothers saw of one another. Clarence had been to look for +Griff in vain more than once, and they had only really met at a Castleford +dinner-party. In fact, Clarence’s youthful spirits, and +the tastes which would have made him companionable to Griff, had been +crushed out of him; and he was what more recent slang calls ‘such +a muff,’ that he had perforce drifted out of our elder brother’s +daily life, as much as if he had been a grave senior of fifty. +It was, as he owned, a heavy penalty of his youthful fall that he could +not help his brother more effectually.</p> +<p>It appeared that Frank Fordyce, thoroughly roused, had had it out +with Griffith, and had declared that his consent was withdrawn and the +engagement annulled. Griff, astounded at the resolute tone of +one whom he considered as the most good-natured of men, had answered +hotly and proudly that he should accept no dismissal except from Ellen +herself, and that he had done no more than was expected of any young +man of position and estate. On the other indictment he scorned +any defence, and the two had parted in mutual indignation. He +had, however, shown himself so much distressed at the threat of being +deprived of Ellen, that neither my father nor Clarence had the least +doubt of his genuine attachment to her, nor that his attentions to Lady +Peacock were more than the effect of old habit and love of amusement, +and that they had been much exaggerated. He scouted the bare idea +of preferring her to Ellen; and, in his second interview with my father, +was ready to make any amount of promises of reformation, provided his +engagement were continued.</p> +<p>This was on the last evening before leaving town, and he came to +the coach-office looking so pale, jaded, and unhappy that Parson Frank’s +kind heart was touched; and in answer to a muttered ‘I’ve +been ten thousand fools, sir, but if you will overlook it I will try +to be worthy of her,’ he made some reply that could be construed +into, ‘If you keep to that, all may yet be well. I’ll +talk to her mother and grandfather.’</p> +<p>Perhaps this was cruel kindness, for, as we well knew, Mrs. Fordyce +was far less likely to be tolerant of a young man’s failings than +was her husband; and she was, besides, a Lester, and might take the +same view.</p> +<p>Abusing the Lesters was our great resource; for we did not believe +either the sailor or the guardsman to be immaculate, and we knew them +to be jealous. We had to remain in ignorance of what we most wished +to know, for Ellen was kept away from us, and my mother would not let +Emily go in search of her. Only Anne, who was a high-spirited, +independent little person, made a sudden rush upon me as I sat in the +garden. She had no business to be so far from home alone; but, +said she, ‘I don’t care, it is all so horrid. Please, +Edward, is it true that Griff has been so very wicked? I heard +the maids talking, and they said papa had found out that he was a bad +lot, and that he was not to marry Ellen; but she would stick to him +through thick and thin, like poor Kitty Brown who would marry the man +that got transported for seven years.’ ‘Will he be +transported, Edward? and would Ellen go too, like the “nut-brown +maid?” Is that what she cries so about? Not by day, +but all night. I know she does, for her handkerchief is wet through, +and there is a wet place on her pillow always in the morning; but she +only says, “Never mind,” and nobody <i>will</i> tell me. +They only say little girls should not think about such things. +And I am not so very little. I am eight, and have read the <i>Lay +of the Last Minstrel</i> and I know all about people in love. +So you might tell me.’</p> +<p>I relieved Anne’s mind as to the chances of transportation, +and, after considering how many confidences might be honourably exchanged +with the child, I explained that her father thought Griff had been idle +and careless, and not fit as yet to be trusted with Ellen.</p> +<p>Her parish experience came into play. ‘Does papa think +he would be like Joe Sparks? But then gentlemen don’t beat +their wives, nor go to the public-house, nor let their children go about +in rags.’</p> +<p>I durst not inquire much, but I gathered that there was a heavy shadow +over the house, and that Ellen was striving to do as usual, but breaking +down when alone. Just then Parson Frank appeared. Anne had +run away from him while on a farming inspection, when the debate over +the turnips with the factotum had become wearisome. He looked +grave and sorrowful, quite unlike his usual hearty self, and came to +me, leaning over my chair, and saying, ‘This is sad work, Edward’; +and, on an anxious venture of an inquiry for Ellen, ‘Poor little +maid, it is very sore work with her. She is a good child and obedient +- wants to do her duty; but we should never have let it go on so long. +We have only ourselves to thank - taking the family character, you see’ +- and he made a kindly gesture towards me. ‘Your father +sees how it is, and won’t let it make a split between us. +I believe that not seeing as much of your sister as usual is one of +my poor lassie’s troubles, but it may be best - it may be best.’</p> +<p>He lingered talking, unwilling to tear himself away, and ended by +disclosing, almost at unawares, that Ellen had held out for a long time, +would not understand nor take in what she was told, accepted nothing +on Lester authority, declared she understood all about Lady Peacock, +and showed a strength of resistance and independence of view that had +quite startled her parents, by proving how far their darling had gone +from them in heart. But they still held her by the bonds of obedience; +and, by dealing with her conscience, her mother had obtained from her +a piteous little note -</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘MY DEAR GRIFFITH - I am afraid it is true that you have not +always seemed to be doing right, and papa and mamma forbid our going +on as we are. You know I cannot be disobedient. It would +not bring a blessing on you. So I must break off, though - ’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>The ‘though’ could be read through an erasure, followed +by the initials, E. M. F. - as if the dismal conclusion had been felt +to be only too true - and there followed the postscript, ‘Forgive +me, and, if we are patient, it may come right.’</p> +<p>This letter was displayed, when, on the ensuing evening, it brought +Griff down in towering indignation, and trying to prove the coercion +that must have been exercised to extract even thus much from his darling. +Over he went headlong to Hillside to insist on seeing her, but to encounter +a succession of stormy scenes. Mrs. Fordyce was the most resolute, +but was ill for a week after. The old Rector was gentle, and somewhat +overawed Griff by his compassion, and by representations that were only +too true; and Parson Frank, with his tender heart torn to pieces, showed +symptoms of yielding another probation.</p> +<p>The interview with Ellen was granted. She, however, was intrenched +in obedience. She had promised submission to the rupture of her +engagement, and she kept her word, - though she declared that nothing +could hinder her love, and that she would wait patiently till her lover +had proved himself, to everybody’s satisfaction, as good and noble +as she knew him to be. When he told her she did not love him she +smiled. She was sure that whatever mistakes there might have been, +he would give no further occasion against himself, and then every one +would see that all had been mere misunderstanding, and they should be +happy again.</p> +<p>Such trust humbled him, and he was ready to make all promises and +resolutions; but he could not obtain the renewal of the engagement, +nor permission to correspond. Only there was wrung out of Parson +Frank a promise that if he could come in two years with a perfectly +unstained, unblotted character, the betrothal might be renewed.</p> +<p>We were very thankful for the hope and motive, and Griff had no doubts +of himself.</p> +<p>‘One can’t look at the pretty creature and think of disappointing +her,’ he said. ‘She is altered, you know, Ted; they’ve +bullied her till she is more ethereal than ever, but it only makes her +lovelier. I believe if she saw me kill some one on the spot she +would think it all my generosity; or, if she could not, she would take +and die. Oh no! I’ll not fail her. No, I won’t; +not if I have to spend seven years after the model of old Bill, whose +liveliest pastime is a good long sermon, when it is not a ghost.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXX - UNA OR DUESSA</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Soone as the Elfin knight in presence came<br />And false +Duessa, seeming ladye fayre,<br />A gentle husher, Vanitie by name,<br />Made +roome, and passage did for them prepare.’</p> +<p>SPENSER.</p> +<p>The two families were supposed to continue on unbroken terms of friendship, +and we men did so; but Mrs. Fordyce told my mother that she had disapproved +of the probation, and Mrs. Winslow was hurt. Though the two girls +were allowed to be together as usual, it was on condition of silence +about Griff; and though, as Emily said, they really had not been always +talking about him in former times, the prohibition seemed to weigh upon +all they said.</p> +<p>Old Mr. Fordyce had long been talking of a round of visits among +relations whom he had not seen for many years; and it was decided to +send Ellen with him, chiefly, no doubt, to prevent difficulties about +Griffith in the long vacation.</p> +<p>There was no embargo on the correspondence with my sister, and letters +full of description came regularly, but how unlike they were to our +journal. They were clear, intelligent, with a certain liveliness, +but no ring of youthful joy, no echo of the heart, always as if under +restraint. Griff was much disappointed. He had been on his +good behaviour for two months, and expected his reward, and I could +not here repeat all that he said about her parents when he found she +was absent. Yet, after all, he got more pity and sympathy from +Parson Frank than from any one else. That good man actually sent +a message for him, when Emily was on honour to do no such thing. +Poor Emily suffered much in consequence, when she would neither afford +Griff a blank corner of her paper, nor write even a veiled message; +while as to the letters she received and gave to him, ‘what was +the use,’ he said, ‘of giving him what might have been read +aloud by the town-crier?’</p> +<p>‘You don’t understand, Griff; it is all dear Ellen’s +conscientiousness - ’</p> +<p>‘Oh, deliver me from such con-sci-en-tious-ness,’ he +answered, in a tone of bitter mimicry, and flung out of the room leaving +Emily in tears.</p> +<p>He could not appreciate the nobleness of Ellen’s self-command +and the obedience which was the security of future happiness, but was +hurt at what he thought weak alienation. One note of sympathy +would have done much for Griff just then. I have often thought +it over since, and come to the conclusion that Mrs. Fordyce was justified +in the entire separation she brought about. No one can judge of +the strength with which ‘true love’ has mastered any individual, +nor how far change may be possible; and, on the other hand, unless there +were full appreciation of Ellen’s character, she might only have +been looked on as -</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘Puppet to a father’s threat,<br />Servile to a shrewish +tongue.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Yet, after all, Frank Fordyce was very kind to Griff, making himself +as much of a medium of communication as he could consistently with his +conscience, but of course not satisfying one who believed that the strength +of love was to be proved not by obedience but disobedience.</p> +<p>Ellen’s letters showed increasing anxiety about her grandfather, +who was not favourably affected by the change of habits, consequent +on a long journey, and staying in different houses. His return +was fixed two or three times, and then delayed by slight attacks of +illness, till at last he became anxious to get home, and set off about +the end of September; but after sleeping a night at an inn at Warwick, +he was too ill to proceed any farther. His old man-servant was +with him; but poor Ellen went through a great deal of suspense and responsibility +before her parents reached her. The attack was paralysis, and +he never recovered the full powers of mind or body, though they managed +to bring him back to Hillside - as indeed his restlessness longed for +his native home. When once there he became calmer, but did not +rally; and a second stroke proved fatal just before Easter. He +was mourned alike by rich and poor, ‘He <i>was</i> a gentleman,’ +said even Chapman, ‘always the same to rich or poor, though he +was one of they Fordys.’</p> +<p>My father wrote to summon both his elder sons to the funeral at Hillside, +and in due time Clarence appeared by the coach, but alone. He +had gone to Griffith’s chambers to arrange about coming down together, +but found my father’s letter lying unopened on the table, and +learnt that his brother was supposed to be staying at a villa in Surrey, +where there were to be private theatricals. He had forwarded the +letter thither, and it would still be possible to arrive in time by +the night mail.</p> +<p>So entirely was Griff expected that the gig was sent to meet him +at seven o’clock the next morning, but there was no sign of him. +My father and Clarence went without him to the gathering, which showed +how deeply the good old man was respected and loved.</p> +<p>It was the only funeral Clarence had attended except Miss Newton’s +hurried one, and his sensitive spirit was greatly affected. He +had learnt reserve when amongst others, but I found that he had a strong +foreboding of evil; he tossed and muttered in his sleep, and confessed +to having had a wretched night of dreams, though he would not describe +them otherwise than that he had seen the lady whose face he always looked +on as a presage of evil.</p> +<p>Two days later the <i>Morning Post</i> gave a full account of the +amateur theatricals at Bella Vista, the seat of Benjamin Bullock, Esquire, +and the Lady Louisa Bullock; and in the list of <i>dramatis personæ</i>, +there figured Griffith Winslow, Esquire, as Captain Absolute, and the +fair and accomplished Lady Peacock as Lydia Languish.</p> +<p>Amateur theatricals were much less common in those days than at present, +and were held as the <i>ne plus ultra</i> of gaiety. Moreover, +the Lady Louisa Bullock was noted for fashionable extravagance of the +semi-reputable style; and there would have been vexation enough at Griffith’s +being her guest, even had not the performance taken place on the very +day of the funeral of Ellen’s grandfather, so as to be an outrage +on decorum.</p> +<p>At the same time, there came a packet franked by a not very satisfactory +peer, brother to Lady Louisa. My father threw a note over to Clarence, +and proceeded to read a very properly expressed letter full of apologies +and condolences for the Fordyces.</p> +<p>‘He could not have got the letter in time’ was my father’s +comment. ‘When did you forward the letter? How was +it addressed? Clarence, I say, didn’t you hear?’</p> +<p>Clarence lifted up his face from his letter, so much flushed that +my mother broke in - ‘What’s the matter? A mistake +in the post-town would account for the delay. Has he had the letter?’</p> +<p>‘Oh yes.’</p> +<p>‘Not in time - eh?’</p> +<p>‘I’m afraid,’ and he faltered, ‘he did.’</p> +<p>‘Did he or did he not?’ demanded my mother.</p> +<p>‘What does he say?’ exclaimed my father.</p> +<p>‘Sir’ (always an unpropitious beginning for poor Clarence), +‘I should prefer not showing you.’</p> +<p>‘Nonsense!’ exclaimed my mother: ‘you do no good +by concealing it!’</p> +<p>‘Let me see his letter,’ said my father, in the voice +there was no gainsaying, and absolutely taking it from Clarence. +None of us will ever forget the tone in which he read it aloud at the +breakfast-table.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘DEAR BILL - What possessed you to send a death’s-head +to the feast? The letter would have bitten no one in my chambers. +A nice scrape I shall be in if you let out that your officious precision +forwarded it. Of course at the last moment I could not upset the +whole affair and leave Lydia to languish in vain. The whole thing +went off magnificently. Keep counsel and no harm is done. +You owe me that for sending on the letter. - Yours,</p> +<p>‘J. G. W.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Clarence had not read to the end when the letter was taken from him. +Indeed to inclose such a note in a dispatch sure to be opened <i>en +famille</i> was one of Griffith’s haphazard proceedings, which +arose from the present being always much more to him than the absent. +Clarence was much shocked at hearing these last sentences, and exclaimed, +‘He meant it in confidence, papa; I implore you to treat it as +unread!’</p> +<p>My father was always scrupulous about private letters, and said, +‘I beg your pardon, Clarence; I should not have forced it from +you. I wish I had not seen it.’</p> +<p>My mother gave something between a snort and a sigh. ‘It +is right for us to know the truth,’ she said, ‘but that +is enough. There is no need that they should know at Hillside +what was Griffith’s alternative.’</p> +<p>‘I would not add a pang to that dear girl’s grief,’ +said my father; ‘but I see the Fordyces were right. I shall +never do anything to bring these two together again.’</p> +<p>My mother chimed in with something about preferring Lady Peacock +and the Bella Vista crew to Ellen and Hillside, which made us rush into +the breach with incoherent defence.</p> +<p>‘I know how it was,’ said Clarence. ‘His +acting is capital, and of course these people could not spare him, nor +understand how much it signified that he should be here. They +make so much of him.’</p> +<p>‘Who do?’ asked my mother. ‘Lady Peacock? +How do you know? Have you been with them?’</p> +<p>‘I have dined at Mr. Clarkson’s,’ Clarence avowed; +and, on further pressure, it was extracted that Griffith - handsome, +and with talents such as tell in society - was a general favourite, +and much engrossed by people who found him an enlivenment and ornament +to their parties. There had been little or nothing of late of +the former noisy, boyish dissipation; but that the more fashionable +varieties were getting a hold on him became evident under the cross-questioning +to which Clarence had to submit.</p> +<p>My father said he felt like a party to a falsehood when he sent Griff’s +letter up to Hillside, and he indemnified himself by writing a letter +more indignant - not than was just, but than was prudent, especially +in the case of one little accustomed to strong censure. Indeed +Clarence could not restrain a slight groan when he perceived that our +mother was shut up in the study to assist in the composition. +Her denunciations always outran my father’s, and her pain showed +itself in bitterness. ‘I ought to have had the presence +of mind to refuse to show the letter,’ he said; ‘Griff will +hardly forgive me.’</p> +<p>Ellen looked very thin, and with a transparent delicacy of complexion. +She had greatly grieved over her grandfather’s illness and the +first change in her happy home; and she must have been much disappointed +at Griffith’s absence. Emily dreaded her mention of the +subject when they first met.</p> +<p>‘But,’ said my sister, ‘she said no word of him. +All she cared to tell me was of the talks she had with her grandfather, +when he made her read his favourite chapters in the Bible; and though +he had no memory for outside things, his thoughts were as beautiful +as ever. Sometimes his face grew so full of glad contemplation +that she felt quite awestruck, as if it were becoming like the face +of an angel. It made her realise, she said, “how little +the ups and downs of this life matter, if there can be such peace at +the last.” And, after all, I could not help thinking that +it was better perhaps that Griff did not come. Any other sort +of talk would have jarred on her just now, and you know he would never +stand much of that.’</p> +<p>Much as we loved our Griff, we had come to the perception that Ellen +was a treasure he could not esteem properly.</p> +<p>The Lester cousins, never remarkable for good taste, forced on her +the knowledge of his employment. Her father could not refrain +from telling us that her exclamation had been, ‘Poor Griff, how +shocked he must be! He was so fond of dear grandpapa. Pray, +papa, get Mr. Winslow to let him know that I am not hurt, for I know +he could not help it. Or may I ask Emily to tell him so?’</p> +<p>I wish Mrs. Fordyce would have absolved her from the promise not +to mention Griff to us. That innocent reliance might have touched +him, as Emily would have narrated it; but it only rendered my father +more indignant, and more resolved to reserve the message till a repentant +apology should come. And, alas! none ever came. Just wrath +on a voiceless paper has little effect. There is reason to believe +that Griff did not like the air of my father’s letter, and never +even read it. He diligently avoided Clarence, and the pain and +shame his warm heart must have felt only made him keep out of reach.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXI - FACILIS DESCENSUS</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘The slippery verge her feet beguiled;<br /> She +tumbled headlong in.’</p> +<p>GRAY.</p> +<p>One of Griffith’s briefest notes in his largest hand announced +that he had accepted various invitations to country houses, for cricket +matches, archery meetings, and the like; nor did he even make it clear +where his address would be, except that he would be with a friend in +Scotland when grouse-shooting began.</p> +<p>Clarence, however, came home for a brief holiday. He was startled +at the first sight of Ellen. He said she was indeed lovelier than +ever, with an added sweetness in her clear eyes and the wild rose flush +in her delicate cheek; but that she looked as if she was being refined +away to nothing, and was more than ever like the vision with the lamp.</p> +<p>Of course the Fordyces had not been going into society, though Ellen +and Emily were as much together as before, helping one another in practising +their school children in singing, and sharing in one another’s +studies and pursuits. There had been in the spring a change at +Wattlesea; the old incumbent died, and the new one was well reported +of as a very earnest hardworking man. He seemed to be provided +with a large family, and there was no driving into Wattlesea without +seeing members of it scattered about the place.</p> +<p>The Fordyces being anxious to show them attention without a regular +dinner-party, decided on inviting all the family to keep Anne’s +ninth birthday, and Emily and Martyn were of course to come and assist +at the entertainment.</p> +<p>It was on the morning of the day fixed that a letter came to me whose +contents seemed to burn themselves into my brain. Martyn called +across the breakfast-table, ‘Look at Edward! Has any one +sent you a young basilisk?’</p> +<p>‘I wish it was,’ I gasped out.</p> +<p>‘Don’t look so,’ entreated Emily. ‘Tell +us! Is it Griff?’</p> +<p>‘Not ill-hurt?’ cried my mother. ‘Oh no, +no. Worse!’ and then somehow I articulated that he was married; +and Clarence exclaimed, ‘Not the Peacock!’ and at my gesture +my father broke out. ‘He has done for himself, the unhappy +boy. A disgraceful Scotch marriage. Eh?’</p> +<p>‘It was his sense of honour,’ I managed to utter.</p> +<p>‘Sense of fiddlestick!’ said my poor father. ‘Don’t +stop to excuse him. We’ve had enough of that! Let +us hear.’</p> +<p>I cannot give a copy of the letter. It was so painful that +it was destroyed; for there was a tone of bravado betraying his uneasiness, +but altogether unbecoming. All that it disclosed was, that some +one staying in the same house had paid insulting attentions to Lady +Peacock; she had thrown herself on our brother’s protection, and +after interfering on her behalf, he had found that there was no means +of sheltering her but by making her his wife. This had been effected +by the assistance of the lady of the house where they had been staying; +and Griffith had written to me two days later from Edinburgh, declaring +that Selina had only to be known to be loved, and to overcome all prejudices.</p> +<p>‘Prejudices,’ said my father bitterly. ‘Prejudices +in favour of truth and honour.’</p> +<p>And my mother uttered the worst reproach of all, when in my agitation, +I slipped and almost fell in rising - ‘Oh, my poor Edward! that +I should have lived to think yours the least misfortune that has befallen +my sons!’</p> +<p>‘Nay, mother,’ said Clarence, putting Martyn toward her, +‘here is one to make up for us all.’</p> +<p>‘Clarence,’ said my father, ‘your mother did not +mean anything but that you and Edward are the comfort of our lives. +I wish there were a chance of Griffith redeeming the past as you have +done; but I see no hope of that. A man is never ruined till he +is married.’</p> +<p>At that moment there was a step in the hall, a knock at the door, +and there stood Mr. Frank Fordyce. He looked at us and said, ‘It +is true then.’</p> +<p>‘To our shame and sorrow it is,’ said my father. +‘Fordyce, how can we look you in the face?’</p> +<p>‘As my dear good friend, and my father’s,’ said +the kind man, shaking him by the hand heartily. ‘Do you +think we could blame you for this youth’s conduct? Stay’ +- for we young ones were about to leave the room. ‘My poor +girl knows nothing yet. Her mother luckily got the letter in her +bedroom. We can’t put off the Reynoldses, you know, so I +came to ask the young people to come up as if nothing had happened, +and then Ellen need know nothing till the day is over.’</p> +<p>‘If I can,’ said Emily.</p> +<p>‘You can be capable of self-command, I hope,’ said my +mother severely, ‘or you do not deserve to be called a friend.’</p> +<p>Such speeches might not be pleasant, but they were bracing, and we +all withdrew to leave the elders to talk it over together, when, as +I believe, kind Parson Frank was chiefly concerned to argue my parents +out of their shame and humiliation.</p> +<p>Clarence told us what he knew or guessed; and we afterwards understood +the matter to have come about chiefly through poor Griff’s weakness +of character, and love of amusement and flattery. The boyish flirtation +with Selina Clarkson had never entirely died away, though it had been +nothing more than the elder woman’s bantering patronage and easy +acceptance of the youth’s equally gay, jesting admiration. +It had, however, involved some raillery on his attachment to the little +Methodistical country girl, and this gradually grew into jealousy of +her - especially as Griff became more of a man, and a brilliant member +of society. The detention from the funeral had been a real victory +on the widow’s part, and the few times when Clarence had seen +them together he had been dismayed at the <i>cavaliere serviente</i> +terms on which Griff seemed to stand; but his words of warning were +laughed down. The rest was easy to gather. He had gone about +on the round of visits almost as an appendage to Lady Peacock, till +they came to a free and easy house, where her coquetry and love of admiration +brought on one of those disputes which rendered his championship needful; +and such defence could only have one conclusion, especially in Scotland, +where hasty private marriages were still legal. What an exchange! +Only had Griff ever comprehended the worth of his treasure?</p> +<p>Emily went as late as she could, that there might be the less chance +of a tête-à-tête, in which she might be surprised +into a betrayal of her secret: indeed she only started at last when +Martyn’s impatience had become intolerable.</p> +<p>What was our amazement when, much earlier than we expected, we saw +Mr. Fordyce driving up in his phaeton, and heard the story he had to +tell.</p> +<p>Emily’s delay had succeeded in bringing her only just in time +for the luncheon that was to be the children’s dinner. There +was a keen-looking, active, sallow clergyman, grizzled, and with an +air of having seen much service; a pale, worn wife, with a gentle, sensible +face; and a bewildering flock of boys and girls, all apparently under +the command of a very brisk, effective-looking elder sister of fourteen +or fifteen, who seemed to be the readiest authority, and to decide what +and how much each might partake of, among delicacies, evidently rare +novelties.</p> +<p>The day was late in August. The summer had broken; there had +been rain, and, though fine, the temperature was fitter for active sports +than anything else. Croquet was not yet invented, and, besides, +most of the party were of the age for regular games at play. Ellen +and Emily did their part in starting these - finding, however, that +the Reynolds boys were rather rough, in spite of the objurgations of +their sister, who evidently thought herself quite beyond the age for +romps. The sports led them to the great home-field on the opposite +slope of the ridge from our own. The new farm-buildings were on +the level ground at the bottom to the right, where the declivity was +much more gradual than to the left, which was very steep, and ended +in furze bushes and low copsewood. It was voted a splendid place +for hide-and-seek, and the game was soon in such full career that Ellen, +who had had quite running enough, could fall out of it, and with her, +the other two elder girls. Emily felt Fanny Reynolds’ presence +a sort of protection, ‘little guessing what she was up to,’ +to use her own expression. Perhaps the girl had not earlier made +out who Emily was, or she had been too much absorbed in her cares; but, +as the three sat resting on a stump overlooking the hill, she was prompted +by the singular inopportuneness of precocious fourteen to observe, ‘I +ought to have congratulated you, Miss Winslow.’</p> +<p>Emily gabbled out, ‘Thank you, never mind,’ hoping thus +to put a stop to whatever might be coming; but there was no such good +fortune. ‘We saw it in the paper. It is your brother, +isn’t it?’</p> +<p>‘What?’ asked unsuspicious Ellen, thinking, no doubt, +of some fresh glory to Griffith.</p> +<p>And before Emily could utter a word, if there were any she could +have uttered, out it came. ‘The marriage - John Griffith +Winslow, Esquire, eldest son of John Edward Winslow of Chantry House, +to Selina, relict of Sir Henry Peacock and daughter of George Clarkson, +Esquire, Q.C. I didn’t think it could be you at first, because +you would have been at the wedding.’</p> +<p>Emily had not even time to meet Ellen’s eyes before they were +startled by a shriek that was not the merry ‘whoop’ and +‘I spy’ of the game, and, springing up, the girls saw little +Anne Fordyce rushing headlong down the very steepest part of the slope, +just where it ended in an extremely muddy pool, the watering-place of +the cattle. The child was totally unable to stop herself, and +so was Martyn, who was dashing after her. Not a word was said, +though, perhaps, there was a shriek or two, but the elder sisters flew +with one accord towards the pond. They also were some way above +it, but at some distance off, so that the descent was not so perpendicular, +and they could guard against over-running themselves. Ellen, perhaps +from knowing the ground better, was far before the other two; but already +poor little Anne had gone straight down, and fallen flat on her face +in the water, Martyn after her, perhaps with a little more free will, +for, though he too fell, he was already struggling to lift Anne up, +and had her head above water, when Ellen arrived and dashed in to assist.</p> +<p>The pond began by being shallow, but the bottom sloped down into +a deep hollow, and was besides covered several feet deep with heavy +cattle-trodden mire and weeds, in which it was almost impossible to +gain a footing, or to move. By the time Emily and Miss Reynolds +had come to the brink, Ellen and Martyn were standing up in the water, +leaning against one another, and holding poor little Anne’s head +up - all they could do. Ellen called out, ‘Don’t! +don’t come in! Call some one! The farm! We are +sinking in! You can’t help! Call - ’</p> +<p>The danger was really terrible of their sinking in the mud and weeds, +and being sucked into the deep part of the pool, and they were too far +in to be reached from the bank. Emily perceived this, and ran +as she had never run before, happily meeting on the way with the gentlemen, +who had been inspecting the new model farm-buildings, and had already +taken alarm from the screams.</p> +<p>They found the three still with their heads above water, but no more, +for every struggle to get up the slope only plunged them deeper in the +horrible mud. Moreover, Fanny Reynolds was up to her ankles in +the mud, holding by one of her brothers, but unable to reach Martyn. +It seems she had had some idea of forming a chain of hands to pull the +others out.</p> +<p>Even now the rescue was not too easy. Mr. Fordyce hurried in, +and took Anne in his arms; but, even with his height and strength, he +found his feet slipping away under him, and could only hand the little +insensible girl to Mr. Reynolds, bidding him carry her at once to the +house, while he lifted Martyn up only just in time, and Ellen clung +to him. Thus weighted, he could not get out, till the bailiff +and another man had brought some faggots and a gate that were happily +near at hand, and helped him to drag the two out, perfectly exhausted, +and Martyn hardly conscious. They both were carried to the Rectory, +- Ellen by her father, Martyn by the foreman, - and they were met at +the door by the tidings that little Anne was coming to herself.</p> +<p>Indeed, by the time Mr. Fordyce had put on dry clothes, all three +were safe in warm beds, and quite themselves again, so that he trusted +that no mischief was done; though he decided upon fetching my mother +to satisfy herself about Martyn. However, a ducking was not much +to a healthy fellow like Martyn, and my mother found him quite fit to +dress himself in the clothes she brought, and to return home with her. +Both the girls were asleep, but Ellen had had a shivering fit, and her +mother was with her, and was anxious. Emily told her mother of +Fanny Reynolds’ unfortunate speech, and it was thought right to +mention it. Mrs. Fordyce listened kindly, kissed Emily, and told +her not to be distressed, for possibly it might turn out to have been +the best thing for Ellen to have learnt the fact at such a moment; and, +at any rate, it had spared her parents some doubt and difficulty as +to the communication.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXII - WALY, WALY</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘And am I then forgot, forgot?<br />It broke the heart of Ellen!’</p> +<p>CAMPBELL</p> +<p>Clarence and Martyn walked over to Hillside the first thing the next +morning to inquire for the two sisters. As to one, they were quickly +reassured, for Anne was in the porch feeding the doves, and no sooner +did she see them than out she flew, and was clinging round Martyn’s +neck, her hat falling back as she kissed him on both cheeks, with an +eagerness that made him, as Clarence reported, turn the colour of a +lobster, and look shy, not to say sheepish, while she exclaimed, ‘ +Oh, Martyn! mamma says she never thanked you, for you really and truly +did save my life, and I am so glad it was you - ’</p> +<p>‘It was not I, it was Ellen,’ gruffly muttered Martyn.</p> +<p>‘Oh yes! but papa says I should have been smothered in that +horrid mud, before Ellen could get to me if you had not pulled me up +directly.’</p> +<p>The elders came out by this time, and Clarence was able to get in +his inquiry. Ellen had had a feverish night, and her chest seemed +oppressed, but her mother did not think her seriously ill. Once +she had asked, ‘Is it true, what Fanny Reynolds said?’ and +on being answered, ‘Yes, my dear, I am afraid it is,’ she +had said no more; and as the Fordyce habit of treating colds was with +sedatives, her mother thought her scarcely awake to the full meaning +of the tidings, and hoped to prevent her dwelling on them till she had +recovered the physical shock. Having answered these inquiries, +the two parents turned upon Martyn, who, in an access of shamefacedness, +had crept behind Clarence and a great orange-tree, and was thence pulled +out by Anne’s vigorous efforts. The full story had come +to light. The Reynolds’ boys had grown boisterous as soon +as the restraint of the young ladies’ participation had been removed, +and had, whether intentionally or not, terrified little Anne in the +chases of hide-and-seek. Finally, one of them had probably been +unable to withstand the temptation of seeing her timid nervous way of +peeping and prying about; and had, without waiting to be properly found, +leapt out of his lair with a roar that scared the little girl nearly +out of her wits, and sent her flying, she knew not whither. Martyn +was a few steps behind, only not holding her hand, because the other +children had derided her for clinging to his protection. He had +instantly seen where she was going, and shouted to her to stop and take +care; but she was past attending to him, and he had no choice but to +dart after her, seeing what was inevitable; while George Reynolds had +sense to stop in time, and seek a safer descent. Had Martyn not +been there to raise the child instantly from the stifling mud, her sister +could hardly have been in time to save her.</p> +<p>Mrs. Fordyce tearfully kissed him; her husband called him a little +hero, as if in joke, then gravely blessed him; and he looked, Clarence +related, as if he had been in the greatest possible disgrace.</p> +<p>It was the second time that one of us had saved a life from drowning, +but there was none of the exultation we had felt that time before in +London. It was a much graver feeling, where the danger had really +been greater, and the rescue had been of one so dear to us. It +was tempered likewise by anxiety about our dear Ellen - ours, alas, +no longer! She was laid up for several days, and it was thought +better that she should not see Emily till she had recovered; but after +a week had passed, her father drove over to discuss some plans for the +Poor-Law arrangements, and begged my sister to go back in the carriage +and spend the day with his daughter.</p> +<p>We brothers could now look forward to some real intelligence; we +became restless; and in the afternoon Clarence and I set out with the +donkey-chair on the woodland path to meet Emily. We gained more +than we had hoped, for as we came round one of the turns in the winding +path, up the hanging beech-wood, we came on the two friends - Ellen, +a truly Una-like figure, in her white dress with her black scarf making +a sable stole. Perhaps we betrayed some confusion, for there was +a bright flush on her cheeks as she came towards us, and, standing straight +up, said, ‘Clarence, Edward, I am so glad you are here; I wanted +to see you. I wanted - to say - I know he could not help it. +It was his generosity - helping those that need it; and - and - I’m +not angry. And though that’s all over, you’ll always +be my brothers, won’t you?’</p> +<p>She held her outstretched hands to us both. I could not help +it, I drew her down, and kissed her brow; Clarence clasped her other +hand and held it to his lips, but neither of us could utter a word.</p> +<p>She turned back and went quietly away through the wood, while Emily +sank down under the beech-tree in a paroxysm of grief. You may +see which it was, for Clarence cut out ‘E. M. F., 1835’ +upon the bark. He soothed and caressed poor Emily as in old nursery +troubles; and presently she told us that it would be long before we +saw that dear one again, for Mrs. Fordyce was going to take her away +on the morrow.</p> +<p>Mrs. Fordyce had seen Emily in private, before letting her go to +Ellen. There was evidently a great wish to be kind. Mrs. +Fordyce said she could never forget what she owed to us all, and could +not think of blaming any of us. ‘But,’ she said, ‘you +are a sensible girl, Emily,’ - ‘how I hate being called +a sensible girl,’ observed the poor child, in parenthesis, - ‘and +you must see that it is desirable not to encourage her to indulge in +needless discussion after she once understands the facts.’ +She added that she thought a cessation of present intercourse would +be wise till the sore was in some degree healed. She had not been +satisfied about her daughter’s health for some time, and meant +to take her to Bath the next day to consult a physician, and then decide +what would be best. ‘And, my dear,’ she said, ‘if +there should be a slackening of correspondence, do not take it as unkindness, +but as a token that my poor child is recovering her tone. Do not +discontinue writing to her, but be guarded, and perhaps less rapid, +in replying.’</p> +<p>It was for her friendship that poor Emily wept so bitterly - the +first friendship that had been an enthusiasm to her; looking at it as +a cruel injustice that Griff’s misdoing should separate them. +The prediction that all might be lived down and forgotten was too vague +and distant to be much consolation; indeed, we were too young to take +it in.</p> +<p>We had it all over again in a somewhat grotesque form when, at another +turn in the wood, we came upon Martyn and Anne, loaded with treasures +from their robbers’ cave, some of which were bestowed in my chair, +the others carried off between Anne and her not very willing nursery-maid.</p> +<p>Anne kissed us all round, and augured cheerfully that she should +lay up a store of shells and rocks by the seaside to make ‘a perfect +Robinson Crusoe cavern,’ she said, ‘and then Clarence can +come and be the Spaniards and the savages. But that won’t +be till next summer,’ she added, shaking her head. ‘I +shall get Ellen to tell Emily what shells I find, and then she can tell +Martyn; for mamma says girls never write to boys unless they are their +brothers! And now Martyn will never be my brother,’ she +added ruefully.</p> +<p>‘You will always be our darling,’ I said.</p> +<p>‘That’s not the same as your sister,’ she answered. +However, amid auguries of the combination of robbers and Robinson Crusoe, +the parting was effected, and Anne borne off by the maid; while we had +Martyn on our hands, stamping about and declaring that it was very hard +that because Griff chose to be a faithless, inconstant ruffian, all +his pleasure and comfort in life should be stopped! He said such +outrageous things that, between scolding him and laughing at him, Emily +had been somewhat cheered by the time we reached the house.</p> +<p>My father had written to Griffith, in his first displeasure, curt +wishes that he might not have reason to repent of the step he had taken, +though he had not gone the right way to obtain a blessing. As +it was not suitable that a man should be totally dependent on his wife, +his allowance should be continued; but under present circumstances he +must perceive that he and Lady Peacock could not be received at Chantry +House. We were shown the letter, and thought it terribly brief +and cold; but my mother said it would be weak to offer forgiveness that +was not sought, and my father was specially exasperated at the absence +of all contrition as to the treatment of Ellen. All Griff had +vouchsafed on that head was - the rupture had been the Fordyces’ +doing; he was not bound. As to intercourse with him, Clarence +and I might act as we saw fit.</p> +<p>‘Only,’ said my father, as Clarence was leaving home, +‘I trust you not to get yourself involved in this set.’</p> +<p>Clarence gave a queer smile, ‘They would not take me as a gift, +papa.’</p> +<p>And as my father turned from the hall door, he laid his hand on his +wife’s arm, and said, ‘Who would have told us what that +young fellow would be to us.’</p> +<p>She sighed, and said, ‘He is not twenty-three; he has plenty +of money, and is very fond of Griff.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII - THE RIVER’S BANK</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘And my friend rose up in the shadows,<br /> And +turned to me,<br />“Be of good cheer,” I said faintly,<br /> For +He called thee.’</p> +<p>B. M.</p> +<p>Mr. Fordyce waited at Hillside till after Sunday, and then went to +Bath to hear the verdict of the physician. He returned as much +depressed as it was in his sanguine nature to be, for great delicacy +of the lungs had been detected; and to prevent the recent chill from +leaving permanent injury, Ellen must have a winter abroad, and warm +sea or mountain air at once. Whether the disease were constitutional +and would have come on at all events no one could tell.</p> +<p>Consumption was much less understood half a century ago; codliver +oil was unknown; and stethoscopes were new inventions, only used by +the more advanced of the faculty. The only escape poor Parson +Frank had from accepting the doom was in disbelieving that a thing like +a trumpet could really reveal the condition of the chest. Moreover, +Mrs. Fordyce had had a brother who had, under the famous cowhouse cure, +recovered enough to return home, and be killed by the upsetting of a +stage coach.</p> +<p>Mrs. Fordyce took her daughter to Lyme, and waited there till her +husband had found a curate and made all arrangements. It must +have been very inconvenient not to come home; but, no doubt, she wanted +to prevent any more partings. Then they went abroad, travelling +slowly, and seeing all the sights that came in their way, to distract +Ellen’s thoughts. She was not allowed to hear what ailed +her; but believed her languor and want of interest in everything to +be the effect of the blow she had received, struggling to exert herself, +and to enter gratefully into the enjoyments provided for her. +She was not prevented from writing to Emily; indeed, no one liked to +hinder anything she wished, but they were guide-book letters, describing +all she saw as a kind of duty, but scarcely concealing the trouble it +was to look. Such sentences would slip out as ‘This is a +nice quiet place, and I am happy to say there is nothing that one ought +to see.’ Or, ‘I sat in the cathedral at Lucerne while +the others were going round. The organ was playing, and it was +such rest!’ Or, again, after a day on the Lago di Como, +‘It was glorious, and if you and Edward were here, perhaps the +beauty would penetrate my sluggish soul!’</p> +<p>Ellen’s sluggish soul! - when we remembered her keen ecstasy +at the Valley of Rocks.</p> +<p>Those letters were our chief interest in an autumn which seemed dreary +to us, in spite of friendly visitors; for had not our family hope and +joy been extinguished? There was no direct communication with +Griffith after his unpleasant reply to my father’s letter; but +Clarence saw the newly married pair on their return to Lady Peacock’s +house in London, and reported that they were very kind and friendly +to him, and gave him more invitations than he could accept. Being +cross-examined when he came home for Christmas, he declared his conviction +that Lady Peacock had married Griff entirely from affection, and that +he had been - well - flattered into it. They seemed very fond +of each other now, and were launching out into all sorts of gaieties; +but though he did not tell my father, he confided to me that he feared +that Griffith had been disappointed in the amount of fortune at his +wife’s disposal.</p> +<p>It was at that Christmas time, one night, having found an intrusive +cat upon my bed, Clarence carried her out at the back door close to +his room, and came back in haste and rather pale. ‘It is +quite true about the lady and the light being seen out of doors,’ +he said in an awe-stricken voice, ‘I have just seen her flit from +the mullion room to the ruin.’</p> +<p>We only noted the fact in that ghost-diary of ours - we told nobody, +and looked no more. We already believed that these appearances +on the lawn must be the cause that every window, up to the attics on +the garden side of the house, were so heavily shuttered and barred that +there was no opening them without noise. Indeed, those on the +ground floor had in addition bells attached to them. No doubt +the former inhabitants had done their best to prevent any one from seeing +or inquiring into what was unacknowledged and unaccountable. It +might be only a coincidence, but we could not help remarking that we +had seen and heard nothing of her during the engagement which might +have united the two families; though, of course, it would be ridiculous +to suppose her cognisant of it, like the White Lady of Avenel, dancing +for joy at Mary’s marriage with Halbert Glendinning.</p> +<p>The Fordyces had settled at Florence, where they suffered a great +deal more from cold than they would have done at Hillside; and there +was such a cessation of Ellen’s letters that Emily feared that +Mrs. Fordyce had attained her wish and separated the friends effectually. +However, Frank Fordyce beguiled his enforced leisure with long letters +to my father on home business, Austrian misgovernment, and the Italian +Church and people, full of shrewd observations and new lights; and one +of these ended thus, ‘My poor lassie has been in bed for ten days +with a severe cold. She begs me to say that she has begun a letter +to Emily, and hopes soon to finish it. We had thought her gaining +ground, but she is sadly pulled down. <i>Fiat voluntas</i>.’</p> +<p>The letter, which had been begun, never came; but, after three long +weeks, there was one from the dear patient herself, mentioning her illness, +and declaring that it was so comfortable to be allowed to be tired, +and to go nowhere and see nothing except the fragment of beautiful blue +sky, and the corner of a campanile, and the flowers Anne brought in +daily.</p> +<p>As soon as she could be moved, they took her to Genoa, where she +revived enough to believe that she should be well if she were at home +again, and to win from her parents a promise to take her to Hillside +as soon as the spring winds were over. So anxious was she that, +as soon as there was any safety in travelling, the party began moving +northwards, going by sea to Marseilles to avoid the Corniche, so early +in the year. There were many fluctuations, and it was only her +earnest yearning for home and strong resolution that could have made +her parents persevere; but at last they were at Hillside, just after +Whitsuntide, in the last week of May.</p> +<p>Frank Fordyce walked over to see us on the very evening after their +arrival. He was much altered, his kindly handsome face looked +almost as if he had gone through an illness; and, indeed, apart from +all his anxiety and sorrow, he had pined in foreign parts for his human +flock, as well as his bullocks and his turnips. He had also read, +thought, and observed a great deal, and had left his long boyhood behind +him, during a space for study and meditation such as he had never had +before.</p> +<p>He was quite hopeless of his daughter’s recovery, and made +no secret of it. In passing through London the best advice had +been taken, but only to obtain the verdict that the case was beyond +all skill, and that it was only a matter of weeks, when all that could +be done was to give as much gratification as possible. The one +thing that Ellen did care about was to be at home - to have Emily with +her, and once more see her school children, her church, and her garden. +Tired as she was she had sprung up in the carriage at the first glimpse +of Hillside spire, and had leant forward at the window, nodding and +smiling her greetings to all the villagers.</p> +<p>She had been taken at once to her room and her bed, but her father +had promised to beg Emily to come up by noon on the morrow. Then +he sat talking of local matters, not able to help showing what infinite +relief it was to him to be at home, and what music to his ears was the +Somersetshire dialect and deep English voice ‘after all those +thin, shrill, screeching foreigners.’</p> +<p>Poor Emily! It was in mingled grief and gladness that she set +off the next day, with the trepidation of one to whom sickness and decay +were hitherto unknown. When she returned, it was in a different +mood, unable to believe the doctors could be right, and in the delight +of having her own bright, sweet Ellen back again, all herself. +They had talked, but more of home and village than of foreign experiences; +and though Ellen did not herself assist, she had much enjoyed watching +the unpacking of the numerous gifts which had cost a perfect fortune +at the Custom House. No one seemed forgotten - villagers, children, +servants, friends. Some of these tokens are before me still. +The Florentine mosaic paper-weight she brought me presses this very +sheet; the antique lamp she gave my father is on the mantelpiece; Clarence’s +engraving of Raffaelle’s St. Michael hangs opposite to me on the +wall. Most precious in our eyes was the collection of plants, +dried and labelled by herself, which she brought to Emily and me - poor +mummies now, but redolent of undying affection. Her desire was +to bestow all her keepsakes with her own hands, and in most cases she +actually did so - a few daily, as her strength served her. The +little figures in costume, coloured prints, Swiss carvings, French knicknacks, +are preserved in many a Hillside cottage as treasured relics of ‘our +young lady.’ Many years later, Martyn recognised a Hillside +native in a back street in London by a little purple-blue picture of +Vesuvius, and thereby reached the soft spot in a nearly dried-up heart.</p> +<p>So bright and playful was the dear girl over all her old familiar +interests that we inexperienced beings believed not only that the wound +to her affections was healed, but that she either did not know or did +not realise the sentence that had been pronounced on her; but when this +was repeated to her mother, it was met by a sad smile and the reply +that we only saw her in her best hours. Still, through the summer, +it was impossible to us to accept the truth; she looked so lovely, was +so cheerful, and took such delight in all that was about her.</p> +<p>With the first cold, however, she seemed to shrivel up, and the bad +nights extended into the days. Emily ascribed the change to the +lack of going out into the air, and always found reasons for the increased +languor and weakness; till at last there came a day when my poor little +sister seemed as if the truth had broken upon her for the first time, +when Ellen talked plainly to her of their parting, and had asked us +both, ‘her dear brother and sister,’ to be with her at her +Communion on All Saints’ Day.</p> +<p>She had written a little letter to Clarence, begging his forgiveness +for having cut him, and treated him with the scorn which, I believe, +was the chief fault that weighed upon her conscience; and, hearing my +father’s voice in the house, she sent a message to beg him to +come and see her in her mother’s dressing-room - that very window +where I had first heard her voice, refusing to come down to ‘those +Winslows.’ She had sent for him to entreat him to forgive +Griffith and recall the pair to Chantry House. ‘Not now,’ +she said, ‘but when I am gone.’</p> +<p>My father could deny her nothing, though he showed that the sight +of her made the entreaty all the harder to him; and she pleaded, ‘But +you know this was not his doing. I never was strong, and it had +begun before. Only think how sad it would have been for him.’</p> +<p>My father would have promised anything with that wasted hand on his, +those fervent eyes gazing on him, and he told her he would have given +his pardon long ago, if it had been sought, as it never had been.</p> +<p>‘Ah! perhaps he did not dare!’ she said. ‘Won’t +you write when all this is over, and then you will be one family again +as you used to be?’</p> +<p>He promised, though he scarcely knew where Griffith was. Clarence, +however, did. He had answered Ellen’s letter, and it had +made him ask for a few days’ leave of absence. So he came +down on the Saturday, and was allowed a quarter of an hour beside Ellen’s +sofa in the Sunday evening twilight. He brought away the calm, +rapt expression I had sometimes seen on his face at church, and Ellen +made a special entreaty that he might share the morrow’s feast.</p> +<p>There are some things that cannot be written of, and that was one. +Still we had not thought the end near at hand, though on Tuesday morning +a message was sent that Ellen was suffering and exhausted, and could +not see Emily. It was a wild, stormy day, with fierce showers +of sleet, and we clung to the hope that consideration for my sister +had prompted the message. In the afternoon Clarence battled with +a severe gale, made his way to Hillside, and heard that the weather +affected the patient, and that there was much bodily distress. +For one moment he saw her father, who said in broken accents that we +could only pray that the spirit might be freed without much more suffering, +‘though no doubt it is all right.’</p> +<p>Before daylight, before any one in the house was up, Clarence was +mounting the hill in the gusts that had done their work on the trees +and were subsiding with the darkness. And just as he was beginning +the descent, as the sun tipped the Hillside steeple with light, he heard +the knell, and counted the twenty-one for the years of our Ellen - for +ours she will always be.</p> +<p>‘Somehow,’ he told me, ‘I could not help taking +off my hat and giving thanks for her, and then all the drops on all +the boughs began sparkling, and there was a hush on all around as if +she were passing among the angels, and a thrush broke out into a regular +song of jubilee!’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV - NOT IN VAIN</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Then cheerly to your work again,<br /> With +hearts new braced and set<br />To run untired love’s blessed race,<br />As +meet for those who face to face<br /> Over the grave +their Lord have met.’</p> +<p>KEBLE.</p> +<p>That dying request could not but be held sacred, and overtures were +made to Griffith, who returned an odd sort of answer, friendly and affectionate, +but rather as if my father were the offending party in need of forgiveness. +He and his wife were obliged for the invitation, but could not accept +it, as they had taken a house near Melton-Mowbray for the hunting season, +and were entertaining friends.</p> +<p>In some ways it was disappointing, in others it was a relief, not +to have the restraint of Lady Peacock’s presence during the last +days we were to have with the Fordyces. For a fresh loss came +upon us. Beachharbour was a fishing-village on the north-western +coast, which, within the previous decade, had sprung into importance, +on the one hand as a fashionable resort, on the other as a minor port +for colliers. The living was wretchedly poor, and had been held +for many years by one of the old inferior stamp of clergy, scarcely +superior in habits or breeding to the farmers, and only outliving the +scandals of his youth to fall into a state of indolent carelessness. +It was in the gift of a child, for whom Sir Horace Lester was trustee, +and that gentleman had written, about a fortnight before Ellen’s +death, to consult Mr. Fordyce on its disposal, declaring the great difficulties +and deficiencies of the place, which made it impossible to offer it +to any one without considerable private means, and also able to attract +and improve the utterly demoralised population. He ended, almost +in joke, by saying, ‘In fact, I know no one who could cope with +the situation but yourself; I wish you could find me your own counterpart, +or come yourself in earnest. It is just the air that suits my +sister - bracing sea-breezes; the parsonage, though a wretched place, +is well situated, and she would be all the stronger; but in poor Ellen’s +state there is no use in talking of it, and besides I know you are wedded +to your fertile fields and Somersetshire clowns.’</p> +<p>That letter (afterwards shown to us) had worked on Mr. Fordyce’s +mind during those mournful days. He was still young enough to +leave behind him Parson Frank and the ‘squarson’ habits +of Hillside in which he had grown up; and the higher and more spiritual +side of his nature had been fostered by the impressions of the last +year. He was conscious, as he said, that his talk had been overmuch +of bullocks, and that his farm had engrossed him more than he wished +should happen again, though a change would be tearing himself up by +the roots; and as to his own people at Hillside, the curate, an active +young man, had well supplied his place, and, in his <i>truly</i> humble +opinion, though by no means in theirs, introduced several improvements +even in that model parish.</p> +<p>What had moved him most, however, was a conversation he had had with +Ellen, with whom during this last year he had often held deep and serious +counsel, with a growing reverence on his side. He had read her +uncle’s letter to her, and to his great surprise found that she +looked on it as a call. Devotedly fond as she herself was of Hillside, +she could see that her father’s abilities were wasted on so small +a field, in a manner scarcely good for himself, and she had been struck +with the greater force of his sermons when preaching to educated congregations +abroad. If no one else could or would take efficient charge of +these Beachharbour souls, she could see that it would weigh on his conscience +to take comparative ease in his own beloved meadows, among a flock almost +his vassals. Moreover, she relieved his mind about her mother. +She had discovered, what the good wife kept out of sight, that the north-country +woman never could entirely have affinities with the south, and she had +come to the conclusion that Mrs. Fordyce’s spirits would be heavily +tried by settling down at Hillside in the altered state of things.</p> +<p>After this talk, Mr. Fordyce had suggested a possible incumbent to +his brother-in-law, but left the matter open; and when Sir Horace came +down to the funeral, it was more thoroughly discussed; and, as soon +as Mrs. Fordyce saw that departure would not break her husband’s +heart, she made no secret of the way that both her opinion and her inclinations +lay. She told my mother that she had always believed her own ill-health +was caused by the southern climate, and that she hoped that Anne would +grow up stronger than her sister in the northern breezes.</p> +<p>Poor little Anne! Of all the family, to her the change was +the greatest grief. The tour on the Continent had been a dull +affair to her; she was of the age to weary of long confinement in the +carriage and in strange hotels, and too young to appreciate ‘grown-up’ +sights. Picture-galleries and cathedrals were only a drag to her, +and if the experiences that were put into Rosella’s mouth for +the benefit of her untravelled sisters could have been written down, +they would have been as unconventional as Mark Twain’s adventures. +Rosella went through the whole tour, and left a leg behind in the hinge +of a door, but in compensation brought home a Paris bonnet and mantle. +She seemed to have been her young mistress’s chief comfort, next +to an occasional game of play with her father, or a walk, looking in +at the shop windows and watching marionettes, or, still better, the +wonderful sports of brown-legged street children, without trying to +make her speak French or Italian - in her eyes one of the inflictions +of the journey, in those of her elders the one benefit she might gain. +She had missed the petting to which she had been accustomed from her +grandfather and from all of us; and she had absolutely counted the days +till she could get home again, and had fallen into dire disgrace for +fits of crying when Ellen’s weakness caused delays. Martyn’s +holidays had been a time of rapture to her, for there was no one to +attend much to her at home, and she was too young to enter into the +weight of anxiety; so the two had run as wild together as a gracious +well-trained damsel of ten and a fourteen-year-old boy with tender chivalry +awake in him could well do. To be out of the way was all that +was asked of her for the time, and all old delights, such as the robbers’ +cave, were renewed with fresh zest.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘It was the sweetest and the last.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>And though Martyn was gone back to school, the child felt the wrench +from home most severely. As she told me on one of those sorrowful +days, ‘She did think she had come back to live at dear, dear little +Hillside all the days of her life.’ Poor child, we became +convinced that this vehement attachment to Griffith’s brothers +was one factor in Mrs. Fordyce’s desire to make a change that +should break off these habits of intimacy and dependence.</p> +<p>Pluralities had not become illegal, and Frank Fordyce, being still +the chief landholder in Hillside, and wishing to keep up his connection +with his people, did not resign the rectory, though he put the curate +into the house, and let the farm. Once or twice a year he came +to fulfil some of a landlord’s duties, and was as genial and affectionate +as ever, but more and more absorbed in the needs of Beachharbour, and +unconsciously showing his own growth in devotion and activity; while +he brought his splendid health and vigour, his talent, his wealth, and, +above all, his winning charm of manner and address, to that magnificent +work at Beachharbour, well known to all of you; though, perhaps, you +never guessed that the foundation of all those churches and their grand +dependent works of piety, mercy, and beneficence was laid in one young +girl’s grave. I never heard of a fresh achievement there +without remembering how the funeral psalm ends with -</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘Prosper Thou the work of our hands upon us,<br />O prosper +Thou our handiwork.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>And Emily? Her drooping after the loss of her friend was sad, +but it would have been sadder but for the spirit Ellen had infused. +We found the herbs to heal our woe round our pathway, though the first +joyousness of life had departed. The reports Mr. Henderson and +the Hillside curate brought from Oxford were great excitements to us, +and we thought and puzzled over church doctrine, and tried to impart +it to our scholars. We I say, for Henderson had made me take a +lads’ class, which has been the chief interest of my life. +Even the roughest were good to their helpless teacher, and some men, +as gray-headed as myself, still come every Sunday to read with Mr. Edward, +and are among the most faithful friends of my life.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXV - GRIFF’S BIRD</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Shall such mean little creatures pretend to the fashion?<br />Cousin +Turkey Cock, well may you be in a passion.’</p> +<p><i>The Peacock at Home.</i></p> +<p>It was not till the second Christmas after dear Ellen Fordyce’s +death that my eldest brother brought his wife and child to Chantry House, +after an urgent letter to Lady Peacock from my mother, who yearned for +a sight of Griffith’s boy.</p> +<p>I do not wish to dwell on that visit. Selina, or Griff’s +bird, as Martyn chose to term her, was certainly handsome and stylish; +but her complexion had lost freshness and delicacy, and the ladies said +her colour was rouge, and her fine figure due to other female mysteries. +She meant to be very gracious, and patronised everybody, especially +Emily, who, she said, would be quite striking if not sacrificed by her +dress, and whom she much wished to take to London, engaging to provide +her with a husband before the season was over, not for a moment believing +my mother’s assurance that it would be a trial to us all whenever +we had to resign our Emily. Nay, she tried to condole with the +poor moped family slave, and was received with such hot indignation +as made her laugh, for, to do her justice, she was good-natured and +easy-tempered. However, I saw less of her than did the others, +for I believe she thought the sight of me made her ill. Griff, +poor old fellow, was heartily glad to be with us again, but quite under +her dominion. He had lost his glow of youth and grace of figure, +his complexion had reddened, and no one would have guessed him only +a year older than Clarence, whose shoulders did indeed reveal something +of the desk, but whose features, though pale, were still fair and youthful. +The boy was another Clarence, not so much in compliment to his godfather +as because it was the most elegant name in the family, and favoured +an interesting belief, current among his mother’s friends, that +the king had actually stood sponsor to the uncle. Poor little +man, his grandmother shut herself into the bookroom and cried, after +her first sight of him. He was a wretched, pinched morsel of humanity, +though mamma and Emily detected wonderful resemblances; I never saw +them, but then he inherited his mother’s repulsion towards me, +and roared doubly at the sight of me. My mother held that he was +the victim of Selina’s dissipations and mismanagement of herself +and him, and gave many matronly groans at his treatment by the smart, +flighty nurse, who waged one continual warfare with the household.</p> +<p>Accustomed to absolute supremacy in domestic matters, it was very +hard for my mother to have her counsels and experience set at naught, +and, if she appealed to Griff, to find her notions treated with the +polite deference he might have shown to a cottage dame.</p> +<p>A course of dinner-parties could not hinder her ladyship from finding +Chantry House insufferably dull, ‘always like Sunday;’ and, +when she found that we were given to Saints’ Day services, her +pity and astonishment knew no bounds. ‘It was all very well +for a poor object like Edward,’ she held, ‘but as to Mr. +Winslow and Clarence, did they go for the sake of example? Though, +to be sure, Clarence might be a Papist any day.’</p> +<p>Popery, instead of Methodism, was just beginning to be the bugbear +set up for those whom the world held to be ultra-religious, and my mother +was so far disturbed at our interest in what was termed Oxford theology +that the warning would have alarmed her if it had come from any other +quarter. However, Lady Peacock was rather fond of Clarence, and +entertained him with schemes for improving Chantry House when it should +have descended to Griffith. The mullion rooms were her special +aversion, and were all to be swept away, together with the vaultings +and the ruin - ‘enough to give one the blues, if there were nothing +else,’ she averred.</p> +<p>We really felt it to the credit of our country that Sir George Eastwood +sent an invitation to an early dance to please his young daughters; +and for this our visitors prolonged their stay. My mother made +Clarence go, that she might have some one to take care of her and Emily, +since Griff was sure to be absorbed by his lady. Emily had not +been to a ball since those gay days in London with Ellen. She +shrank back from the contrast, and would have begged off; but she was +told that she must submit; and though she said she felt immeasurably +older than at that happy time, I believe she was not above being pleased +with the pale pink satin dress and wreath of white jessamine, which +my father presented to her, and in which, according to Martyn, she beat +‘Griff’s bird all to shivers.’</p> +<p>Clarence had grown much less bashful and embarrassed since the Tooke +affair had given him a kind of position and a sense of not being a general +disgrace. He really was younger in some ways at five-and-twenty +than at eighteen; he enjoyed dancing, and especially enjoyed the compliments +upon our sister, whom in our usual fashion we viewed as the belle of +the ball. He was standing by my fire, telling me the various humours +of the night, when a succession of shrieks ran through the house. +He dashed away to see what was the matter, and returned, in a few seconds, +saying that Selina had seen some one in the garden, and neither she +nor mamma would be satisfied without examination - ‘though, of +course, I know what it must be,’ he added, as he drew on his coat.</p> +<p>‘Bill, are you coming?’ said Griff at the door. +‘You needn’t, if you don’t like it. I bet it +is your old friend.’</p> +<p>‘I’m coming! I’m coming! I’m +sure it is,’ shouted Martyn from behind, with the inconsistent +addition, ‘I’ve got my gun.’</p> +<p>‘Enough to dispose of any amount of robbers or phantoms either,’ +observed Griff as they went forth by the back door, reinforced by Amos +Bell with a lantern in one hand and a poker in the other.</p> +<p>My father was fortunately still asleep, and my mother came down to +see whether I was frightened.</p> +<p>She said she had no patience with Selina, and had left her to Emily +and her maid; but, before many words had been spoken, they all came +creeping down after her, feeling safety in numbers, or perhaps in her +entire fearlessness. The report of a gun gave us all a shock, +and elicited another scream or two. My mother, hoping that no +one was hurt, hastened into the hall, but only to meet Griff, hurrying +in laughing to reassure us with the tidings that it was only Martyn, +who had shot the old sun-dial by way of a robber; and he was presently +followed by the others, Martyn rather crestfallen, but arguing with +all his might that the sun-dial was exactly like a man; and my mother +hurried every one off upstairs without further discussion.</p> +<p>Clarence was rather white, and when Martyn demanded, ‘Do you +really think it was the ghost? Fancy her selection of the bird!’ +he gravely answered, ‘Martyn, boy, if it were, it is not a thing +to speak of in that tone. You had better go to bed.’</p> +<p>Martyn went off, somewhat awed. Clarence was cold and shivering, +and stood warming himself. He was going to wind up his watch, +but his hand shook, and I did it for him, noting the hour - twenty minutes +past one.</p> +<p>It appeared that Selina, on going upstairs, recollected that she +had left her purse in Griff’s sitting-room before going to dress, +and had gone in quest of it. She heard strange shouts and screams +outside, and, going to one of the old windows, where the shutters were +less unmanageable than elsewhere, she beheld a woman rushing towards +the house pursued by at least a couple of men. Filled with terror +she had called out, and nearly fainted in Griff’s arms.</p> +<p>‘It agrees with all we have heard before,’ said Clarence, +‘the very day and hour!’</p> +<p>‘As Martyn said, the person is strange.’</p> +<p>‘Villagers, less concerned, have seen the like,’ he said; +‘and, indeed, all unconsciously poor Selina has cut away the hope +of redress,’ he sighed. ‘Poor, restless spirit! would +that I could do anything for her.’</p> +<p>‘Let me ask, do you ever see her now?’</p> +<p>‘N-no, I suppose not; but whenever I am anxious or worried, +the trouble takes her form in my dreams.’</p> +<p>Lady Peacock had soon extracted the ghost story from her husband, +and, though she professed to be above the vulgar folly of belief in +it, her nerves were so upset, she said, that nothing would have induced +her to sleep another night in the house. The rational theory on +this occasion was that one of the maids must have stolen out to join +in the Christmas entertainment at the Winslow Arms, and been pursued +home by some tipsy revellers; but this explanation was not productive +of goodwill between the mother and daughter-in-law, since mamma had +from the first so entirely suspected Selina’s smart nurse as actually +to have gone straight to the nursery on the plea of seeing whether the +baby had been frightened. The woman was found asleep - apparently +so - said my mother, but all her clothes were in an untidy heap on the +floor, which to my mother was proof conclusive that she had slipped +into the house in the confusion, and settled herself there. Had +not my mother with her own eyes watched from the window her flirtations +with the gardener, and was more evidence requisite to convict her? +Mamma entertained the hope that her proposal would be adopted of herself +taking charge of her grandson, and fattening his poor little cheeks +on our cows’ milk, while the rest of the party continued their +round of visits.</p> +<p>Lady Peacock, however, treated it as a personal imputation that <i>her</i> +nurse should be accused instead of any servant of Mrs. Winslow’s +own, though, as Griff observed, not only character, but years and features +might alike acquit them of any such doings; but even he could not laugh +long, for it was no small vexation to him that such offence should have +arisen between his mother and wife. Of course there was no open +quarrel - my mother had far too much dignity to allow it to come to +that - but each said in private bitter things of the other, and my lady’s +manner of declining to leave her baby at Chantry House was almost offensive.</p> +<p>Poor Griffith, who had been growing more like himself every day, +tried in vain to smooth matters, and would have been very glad to leave +his child to my mother’s management, though, of course, he acquitted +the nurse of the midnight adventure. He privately owned to us +that he had no opinion of the woman, but he defended her to my mother, +in whose eyes this was tantamount to accusing her own respectable maids, +since it was incredible that any rational person could accept the phantom +theory.</p> +<p>Gladly would he have been on better terms, for he had had to confess +that his wife’s fortune had turned out to be much less than common +report had stated, or than her style of living justified, and that his +marriage had involved him in a sea of difficulties, so that he had to +beg for a larger allowance, and for assistance in paying off debts.</p> +<p>The surrender of the London house and of some of the chief expenses +were made conditions of such favours, and Griffith had assented gratefully +when alone with his father; but after an interview with his wife, demonstrations +were made that it was highly economical to have a house in town, and +horses, carriages, and servants and that any change would be highly +derogatory to the heir of Earlscombe and the sacred wishes of the late +Sir Henry Peacock.</p> +<p>In fact, it was impressed on us that we were mere homely, countrified +beings, who could not presume to dictate to her ladyship, but who had +ill requited her condescension in deigning to beam upon us.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI - SLACK WATER</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘O dinna look, ye prideful queen, on a’ aneath your ken,<br />For +he wha seems the farthest <i>but</i> aft wins the farthest <i>ben</i>,<br />And +whiles the doubie of the schule tak’s lead of a’ the rest:<br />The +birdie sure to sing is the gorbal of the nest.</p> +<p>‘The cauld, grey, misty morn aft brings a sunny summer day;<br />The +tree wha’s buds are latest is longest to decay;<br />The heart +sair tried wi’ sorrow still endures the sternest test:<br />The +birdie sure to sing is the gorbal of the nest.</p> +<p>‘The wee wee stern that glints in heaven may be a lowin’ +sun,<br />Though like a speck of light it seem amid the welkin dun;<br />The +humblest sodger on the field may win a warrior’s crest:<br />The +birdie sure to sing is the gorbal of the nest.’</p> +<p><i>Scotch Newspaper.</i></p> +<p>The wickedness of the nurse was confirmed in my mother’s eyes +when the doom on the first-born of the Winslows was fulfilled, and the +poor little baby, Clarence, succumbed to a cold on the chest caught +while his nurse was gossiping with a guardsman.</p> +<p>He was buried in London. ‘It was better for Selina to +get those things over as quickly as possible,’ said Griff; but +Clarence saw that he suffered much more than his wife would let him +show to her. ‘It is so bad for him to dwell on it,’ +she said. ‘You see. I never let myself give way.’</p> +<p>And she was soon going out, nearly as usual, till their one other +infant came to open its eyes only for a few hours on this troublesome +world, and owe its baptism to Clarence’s exertions. My mother, +who was in London just after, attending on the good old Admiral’s +last illness, was greatly grieved and disgusted with all she heard and +saw of the young pair, and that was not much. She felt their disregard +of her uncle as heartless, or rather as insulting, on Selina’s +part, and weak on Griff’s; and on all sides she heard of their +reckless extravagance, which made her forebode the worst.</p> +<p>All these disappointments much diminished my father’s pleasure +and interest in his inheritance. He had little heart to build +and improve, when his eldest son’s wife made no secret of her +hatred to the place, or to begin undertakings only to be neglected by +those who came after; and thus several favourite schemes were dropped, +or prevented by Griffith’s applications for advances.</p> +<p>At last there was a crisis. At the end of the second season +after their visit to us, Clarence sent a hasty note, begging my father +to join him in averting an execution in Griffith’s house. +I cannot record the particulars, for just at that time I had a long +low fever, and did not touch my diary for many weeks; nor indeed did +I know much about the circumstances, since my good nurses withheld as +much as possible, and would not let me talk about what they believed +to make me worse. Nor can I find any letters about it. I +believe they were all made away with long ago, and thus I only know +that my father hurried up to town, remained for a fortnight, and came +back looking ten years older. The house in London had been given +up, and he had offered a vacant one of our own, near home, to Griff +to retrench in, but Selina would not hear of it, insisting on going +abroad.</p> +<p>This was a great grief to him and to us all. There was only +one side of our lives that was not saddened. Our old incumbent +had died about six months after the Fordyces had gone, and Mr. Henderson +had gladly accepted the living where the parsonage had been built. +The lady to whom he had been so long engaged was a great acquisition. +Her home had been at Oxford; and she was as thoroughly imbued with the +spirit that there prevailed as was the Hillside curate. She talked +to us of Littlemore, and of the sermons there and at St. Mary’s, +and Emily and I shared to the full her hero-worship. It was the +nearest compensation my sister had had for the loss of Ellen, with this +difference, that Mrs. Henderson was older, had read more, and had conversed +thoughtfully with some of the leading spirits in religious thought, +so that she opened a new world to us.</p> +<p>People would hardly believe in our eagerness and enthusiasm over +the revelations of church doctrine; how we debated, consulted our books, +and corresponded with Clarence over what now seems so trite; how we +viewed the <i>British Critic</i> and <i>Tracts for the Times</i> as +our oracles, and worried the poor Wattlesea bookseller to get them for +us at the first possible moment.</p> +<p>Church restoration was setting in. Henderson had always objected +to christening from a slop-basin on the altar, and had routed out a +dilapidated font; and now one, which was termed by the country paper +chaste and elegant, was by united efforts, in which Clarence had the +lion’s share, presented in time for the christening of the first +child at the Parsonage. It is that which was sent off to the Mission +Chapel as a blot on the rest of Earlscombe Church. Yet what an +achievement it was deemed at the time!</p> +<p>The same may be said of most of our doings at that era. We +effected them gradually, and have ever since been undoing them, as our +architectural and ecclesiastical perceptions have advanced. I +wonder how the next generation will deal with our alabaster reredos +and our stained windows, with which we are all as well pleased as we +were fifty years ago with the plain red cross with a target-like arrangement +above and below it in the east window, or as poor Margaret may have +been with her livery altar-cloth. Indeed, it seems to me that +we got more delight out of our very imperfect work, designed by ourselves +and sent to Clarence to be executed by men in back streets in London, +costing an immensity of trouble, than can be had now by simply choosing +out of a book of figures of cut and dried articles.</p> +<p>What an enthusiastic description Clarence sent of the illuminated +commandments in the new Church of St. Katharine in the Regent’s +Park! How Emily and I gloated over the imitation of them when +we replaced the hideous old tables, and how exquisite we thought the +initial I, which irreverent youngsters have likened, with some justice, +to an enormous overfed caterpillar, enwreathed with red and green cabbage +leaves!</p> +<p>My mother was startled at these innovations; but my father, who had +kept abreast with the thought of the day, owned to the doctrines as +chiming in with his unbroken belief, and transferred to the improvements +in the church the interest which he had lost in the estate. The +farmers had given up their distrust of him, and accepted him loyally +as friend and landlord, submitting to the reseating of the church, and +only growling moderately at decorations that cost them nothing. +Daily service began as soon as Henderson was his own master, and was +better attended than it is now; for the old people to whom it was a +novelty took up the habit more freely than their successors, to whom +the bell has been familiar through their days of toil. We were +too far off to be constant attendants; but evensong made an object for +our airings, and my father’s head, now quite white, was often +seen there. He felt it a great relief amid the cares of his later +years.</p> +<p>Perhaps it was with a view to him that Mr. Castleford arranged that +Clarence should become manager for the firm at Bristol, with a good +salary. The Robsons would not take a fresh lodger - they were +getting too old for fresh beginnings; but they kept their rooms ready +for him, whenever he had to be in town, and Gooch found him a trustworthy +widow as housekeeper. He took a little cottage at Clifton, availing +himself of the coach to spend his Sundays with us; and it was an acknowledged +joy to every one that I should drive to meet him every Saturday afternoon +at the Carpenter’s Arms, and bring him home to be my father’s +aid in all his business, and a most valuable help in Sunday parish work, +in which he had an amount of experience which astonished us.</p> +<p>What would have become of the singing without him? The first +hint against the remarkable anthems had long ago alienated our tuneful +choir placed on high, and they had deserted <i>en masse</i>. Then +Emily and the schoolmistress had toiled at the school children, whose +thin little pipes and provincialisms were a painful infliction, till +Mrs. Henderson, backed by Clarence, worked up a few promising men’s +voices to support them. We thought everything but the New and +Old Versions smacked of dissent, except the hymns at the end of the +Prayer-book, though we did not go as far as Chapman, who told Emily +he understood as how all the tunes was tried over in Doctor’s +Commons afore they were sent out, and it was not ‘liable’ +to change them. One of Clarence’s amusements in his lonely +life had been the acquisition of a knowledge of music, and he had a +really good voice; while his adherence to our choir encouraged other +young men of the farmer and artisan class to join us. Choir, however, +did not mean surplices and cassocks, but a collection of our best voices, +male and female, in the gallery.</p> +<p>Martyn began to be a great help when at home, never having wavered +in his purpose of becoming a clergyman. On going to Oxford, he +became imbued with the influences that made Alma Mater the focus of +the religious life and progress of that generation which is now the +elder one. There might in some be unreality, in others extravagance, +in others mere imitation; but there was a truly great work on the minds +of the young men of that era - a work which has stood the test of time, +made saints and martyrs, and sown the seed whereof we have witnessed +a goodly growth, in spite of cruel shocks and disappointments, fightings +within and fears without, slanders and follies to provoke them, such +as we can now afford to laugh over. With Martyn, rubrical or extra-rubrical +observances were the outlet of the exuberance of youth, as chivalry +and romance had been to us; and on Frank Fordyce’s visits, it +was delightful to find that he too was in the full swing of these ideas +and habits, partly from his own convictions, partly from his parish +needs, and partly carried along by curates fresh from Oxford.</p> +<p>In the first of his summer vacations Martyn joined a reading party, +with a tutor of the same calibre, and assured them that if they took +up their quarters in a farmhouse not many miles by the map from Beachharbour, +they would have access to unlimited services, with the extraordinary +luxury of a surpliced choir, and intercourse with congenial spirits, +which to him meant the Fordyces.</p> +<p>On arriving, however, the bay proved to be so rocky and dangerous +that there was no boating across it, as he had confidently expected. +The farm depended on a market town in the opposite direction, and though +the lights of Beachharbour could be seen at night, there was no way +thither except by a six-miles walk along a cliff path, with a considerable +détour in order to reach a bridge and cross the rapid river which +was an element of danger in the bay, on the north side of the promontory +which sheltered the harbour to the south.</p> +<p>So when Martyn started as pioneer on the morning before the others +arrived, he descended into Beachharbour later than he intended, but +still he was in time to meet Anne Fordyce, a tall, bright-faced girl +of fourteen, taking her after-lessons turn on the parade with a governess, +who looked amazed as the two met, holding out both hands to one another, +with eager joy and welcome.</p> +<p>It was not the same when Anne flew into the Vicarage with the rapturous +announcement, ‘Here’s Martyn!’ The vicar was +gone to a clerical meeting, and Mrs. Fordyce said nothing about staying +to see him. The luncheon was a necessity, but with quiet courtesy +Martyn was made to understand that he was regarded as practically out +of reach, and ‘Oh, mamma, he could come and sleep,’ was +nipped in the utterance by ‘Martyn is busy with his studies; we +must not disturb him.’ This was a sufficient intimation +that Mrs. Fordyce did not intend to have the pupils dropping in on her +continually, and making her house their resort; and while Martyn was +digesting the rebuff, the governess carried Anne off to prepare for +a music lesson, and her mother gave no encouragement to lingering or +repeating the visit.</p> +<p>Still Martyn, on his way homewards, based many hopes on the return +of Mr. Fordyce; but all that ensued was, three weeks later, a note regretting +the not having been able to call, and inviting the whole party to a +great school-feast on the anniversary of the dedication of the first +of the numerous new churches of Beachharbour. There was no want +of cordiality on that occasion, but time was lacking for anything beyond +greetings and fleeting exchanges of words. Parson Frank tried +to talk to Martyn, bemoaned the not seeing more of him, declared his +intentions of coming to the farm, began an invitation, but was called +off a hundred ways; and Anne was rushing about with all the children +of the place, gentle and simple, on her hands. Whenever Martyn +tried to help her, he was called off some other way, and engaged at +last in the hopeless task of teaching cricket where these fisher boys +had never heard of it.</p> +<p>That was all he saw of our old friends, and he was much hurt by such +ingratitude. So were we all, and though we soon acquitted the +head of the family of more than the forgetfulness of over occupation, +the soreness at his wife’s coldness was not so soon passed over. +Yet from her own point of view, poor woman, she might be excused for +a panic lest her second daughter might go the way of the first.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII - OUTWARD BOUND</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘As slow our ship her foamy track<br /> Against +the wind was cleaving,<br />Her trembling pennant still looked back<br /> To +the dear isle ’twas leaving.<br />So loath we part from all we +love,<br /> From all the links that bind us,<br />So +turn our hearts as on we rove<br /> To those we’ve +left behind us.’</p> +<p>T. MOORE.</p> +<p>The first time I saw Clarence’s <i>ménage</i> was in +that same summer of poor Martyn’s repulse. My father had +come in for a small property in his original county of Shropshire, and +this led to his setting forth with my mother to make necessary arrangements, +and then to pay visits to old friends; leaving Emily and me to be guests +to our brother at Clifton.</p> +<p>We told them it was their harvest honeymoon, and it was funny to +see how they enjoyed the scheme when they had once made up their minds +to it, and our share in the project was equally new and charming, for +Emily and I, though both some way on in our twenties, were still in +many respects home children, nor had I ever been out on a visit on my +own account. The yellow chariot began by conveying Emily and me +to our destination.</p> +<p>Clifton has grown considerably since those days, and terraces have +swallowed up the site of what the post-office knew as Prospect Cottage, +but we were apt to term the doll’s house, for, as Emily said, +our visit there had something the same effect as a picnic or tea drinking +at little Anne’s famous baby house. In like manner, it was +tiny, square, with one sash-window on each side of the door, but it +was nearly covered with creepers, odds and ends which Clarence brought +from home, and induced to flourish and take root better than their parent +stocks. In his nursery days his precision had given him the name +of ‘the old bachelor,’ and he had all a sailor’s tidiness. +Even his black cat and brown spaniel each had its peculiar basket and +mat, and had been taught never to transgress their bounds or interfere +with one another; and the effect of his parlour, embellished as it was +in our honour, was delightful. The outlook was across the beautiful +ravine, into the wooded slopes on the further side, and, on the other +side, down the widening cleft to that giddy marvel, the suspension bridge, +with vessels passing under it, and the expanse beyond.</p> +<p>Most entirely we enjoyed ourselves, making merry over Clarence’s +housekeeping, employing ourselves after our wonted semi-student, semi-artist +fashion in the morning; and, when our host came home from business, +starting on country expeditions, taking a carriage whenever the distance +exceeded Emily’s powers of walking beside my chair; sketching, +botanising, or investigating church architecture, our newest hobby. +I sketched, and the other two rambled about, measuring and filling up +archæological papers, with details of orientation, style, and +all the rest, deploring barbarisms and dilapidations, making curious +and delightful discoveries, pitying those who thought the Dun Cow’s +rib and Chatterton’s loft the most interesting features of St. +Mary’s Redcliff, and above all rubbing brasses with heel ball, +and hanging up their grim effigies wherever there was a vacant space +on the walls of our doll’s house.</p> +<p>And though we grumbled when Clarence was detained at the office later +than we expected, this was qualified by pride at feeling his importance +there as a man in authority. It was, however, with much dismay +and some inhospitality that we learnt that a young man belonging to +the office - in fact, Mr. Frith’s great-nephew - was coming to +sail for Canton in one of the vessels belonging to the firm, and would +have to be ‘looked after.’ He could not be asked to +sleep at Prospect Cottage, for Emily had the only spare bedchamber, +and Clarence had squeezed himself into a queer little dressing closet +to give me his room; but the housekeeper (a treasure found by Gooch) +secured an apartment in the next house, and we were to act hosts, much +against our will. Clarence had barely seen the youth, who had +been employed in the office at Liverpool, living with his mother, who +was in ill-health and had died in the last spring. The only time +of seeing him, he had seemed to be a very shy raw lad; but, ‘poor +fellow, we can make the best of him,’ was the sentiment; ‘it +is only for one night.’ However, we were dismayed when, +as Emily was in the crisis of washing-in a sky, it was announced that +a gentleman was asking for Mr. Winslow. Churlishness bade us despatch +him to the office, but humanity prevailed to invite him previously to +share our luncheon. Yet we doubted whether it had not been a cruel +mercy when he entered, evidently unprepared to stumble on a young lady +and a deformed man, and stammering piteously as he hoped there was no +mistake - Mr. Winslow - Prospect, etc.</p> +<p>Emily explained, frustrating his desire to flee at once to the office, +and pointing out his lodging, close at hand, whence he was invited to +return in a few minutes to the meal.</p> +<p>We had time for some amiable exclamations, ‘The oaf!’ +‘What a bore!’ ‘He has spoilt my sky!’ +‘I shan’t finish this to-day!’ ‘Shall +we order a carriage and take him to the office; we can’t have +him on our hands all the afternoon?’ ‘And we might +get the new number of <i>Nicholas Nickleby</i>.’</p> +<p>N.B. - Perhaps it was <i>Oliver Twist</i> or <i>The Old Curiosity +Shop</i> - I am not certain which was the current excitement just then; +but I am quite sure it was Mrs. Nickleby who first disclosed to us that +our guest had a splendid pair of dark eyes. Hitherto he had kept +them averted in the studious manner I have often noticed in persons +who did not wish to excite suspicion of staring at my peculiarities; +but that lady’s feelings when her neighbour’s legs came +down her chimney were too much for his self-consciousness, and he gave +a glance that disclosed dark liquid depths, sparkling with mirth. +He was one number in advance of us, and could enlighten us on the next +stage in the coming story; and this went far to reconcile us to the +invasion, and to restore him to the proper use of his legs and arms +- and very shapely limbs they were, for he was a slim, well-made fellow, +with a dark gipsy complexion, and intelligent, honest face, altogether +better than we expected.</p> +<p>Yet we could have groaned when in the evening, Clarence brought him +back with tidings that something had gone wrong with the ship. +If I tried to explain, I might be twitted with,</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘The bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>But of course Clarence knew all about it, and he thought it unlikely +that the vessel would be in sailing condition for a week at soonest. +Great was our dismay! Getting through one evening by the help +of walking and then singing was one thing, having the heart of our visit +consumed by an interloper was another; though Clarence undertook to +take him to the office and find some occupation for him that might keep +him out of our way. But it was Clarence’s leisure hours +that we begrudged; though truly no one could be meeker than this unlucky +Lawrence Frith, nor more conscious of being an insufferable burthen. +I even detected a tear in his eye when Clarence and Emily were singing +‘Sweet Home.’</p> +<p>‘Do you know,’ said Clarence, on the second evening, +when his guest had gone to dress for dinner, ‘I am very sorry +for that poor lad. It is only six weeks since he lost his mother, +and he has not a soul to care for him, either here or where he is going. +I had fancied the family were under a cloud, but I find it was only +that old Frith quarrelled with the father for taking Holy Orders instead +of going into our house. Probably there was some imprudence; for +the poor man died a curate and left no provision for his family. +The only help the old man would give was to take the boy into the office +at Liverpool, stopping his education just as he was old enough to care +about it. There were a delicate mother and two sisters then, but +they are all gone now; scarlet fever carried off the daughters, and +Mrs. Frith never was well again. He seems to have spent his time +in waiting on her when off duty, and to have made no friends except +one or two contemporaries of hers; and his only belongings are old Frith +and Mrs. Stevens, who are packing him off to Canton without caring a +rap what becomes of him. I know what Mrs. Stevens is at; she comes +up to town much oftener now, and has got her husband’s nephew +into the office, and is trying to get everything for him; and that’s +the reason she wants to keep up the old feud, and send this poor Lawrence +off to the ends of the earth.’</p> +<p>‘Can’t you do anything for him?’ asked Emily. +‘I thought Mr. Frith did attend to you.’</p> +<p>Clarence laughed. ‘I know that Mrs. Stevens hates me +like poison; but that is the only reason I have for supposing I might +have any influence.’</p> +<p>‘And can’t you speak to Mr. Castleford?’</p> +<p>‘Set him to interfere about old Frith’s relations! +He would know better! Besides, the fellow is too old to get into +any other line - four-and-twenty he says, though he does not look it; +and he is as innocent as a baby, indifferent just now to what becomes +of him, or whither he goes; it is all the same to him, he says; there +is no one to care for him anywhere, and I think he is best pleased to +go where it is all new. And there, you see, the poor lad will +be left to drift to destruction - mother’s darling that he has +been - just for want of some human being to care about him, and hinder +his getting heartless and reckless!’</p> +<p>Clarence’s voice trembled, and Emily had tears in her eyes +as she asked if absolutely nothing could be done for him. Clarence +meant to write to Mr. Castleford, who would no doubt beg the chaplain +at the station to show the young man some kindness; also, perhaps, to +the resident partner, whom Clarence had looked at once over his desk, +but in his rawest and most depressed days. The only clerk out +there, whom he knew, would, he thought, be no element of safety, and +would not like the youth the better either for bringing his recommendation +or bearing old Frith’s name.</p> +<p>We were considerably softened towards our guest, though the next +time Emily came on him he was standing in the hall, transfixed in contemplation +of her greatest achievement in brass-rubbing, a severe and sable knight +with the most curly of nostrils, the stiffest and straightest of mouths, +hair straight on his brows, pointed toes joined together below, and +fingers touching over his breast. There he hung in triumph just +within the front door, fluttering and swaying a little on his pins whenever +a draught came in; and there stood Lawrence Frith, freshly aware of +him, and unable to repress the exclamation, ‘I say! isn’t +he a guy?’</p> +<p>‘Sir Guy de Warrenne,’ began Emily composedly; ‘don’t +you see his coat of arms? “chequy argent and azure.”’</p> +<p>‘Does your brother keep him there to scare away the tramps?’</p> +<p>Emily’s countenance was a study.</p> +<p>The subject of brasses was unfolded to Lawrence Frith, and before +the end of the week he had spent an entire day on his hands and knees, +scrubbing away with the waxy black compound at a figure in the Cathedral +- the office-work, as we declared, which Clarence gave him to do. +In fact he became so thoroughly infected that it was a pity that he +was going where there would be no exercise in ecclesiology - rather +the reverse. Embarrassment on his side, and hostility on ours, +may be said to have vanished under the influence of Sir Guy de Warrenne’s +austere countenance. The youth seemed to regard ‘Mr. Winslow’ +in the light of a father, and to accept us as kindly beings. He +ceased to contort his limbs in our awful presence, looked at me like +as an ordinary person, and even ventured on giving me an arm. +He listened with unfeigned pleasure to our music, perilled his neck +on St. Vincent’s rocks in search of plants, and by and by took +to hanging back with Emily, while Clarence walked on with me, to talk +to her out of his full heart about his mother and sisters.</p> +<p>Three weeks elapsed before the <i>Hoang-ho</i> was ready to sail, +and by that time Lawrence knew that there were some who would rejoice +in his success, or grieve if things went ill with him. Clarence +and I had promised him long home letters, and impressed on him that +we should welcome his intelligence of himself. For verily he had +made his way into our hearts, as a thoroughly good-hearted, affectionate +being, yearning for something to cling to; intelligent and refined, +though his recent cultivation had been restricted, soundly principled, +and trained in religious feelings and habits, but so utterly inexperienced +that there was no guessing how it might be with him when cast adrift, +with no object save his own maintenance, and no one to take an interest +in him.</p> +<p>Clarence talked to him paternally, and took him to second-hand shops +to provide a cheap library of substantial reading, engaging to cater +for him for the future, not omitting Dickens; and Emily worked at providing +him with the small conveniences and comforts for the voyage that called +for a woman’s hand. He was so grateful that it was like +fitting out a dear friend or younger brother.</p> +<p>‘I wonder,’ said Clarence, as he walked by my chair on +one of the last days, ‘whether it was altogether wise to have +this young Frith here so much, though it could hardly have been helped.’</p> +<p>To which I rejoined that it could hardly have displeased the uncle, +and that if it did, the youth’s welfare was worth annoying him +for.</p> +<p>‘I meant something nearer home,’ said Clarence, and proceeded +to ask if I did not think Lawrence Frith a good deal smitten with Emily.</p> +<p>To me it seemed an idea not worth consideration. Any youth, +especially one who had lived so secluded a life, would naturally be +taken by the first pleasing young woman who came in his way, and took +a kindly interest in him; but I did not think Emily very susceptible, +being entirely wrapped up in home and parish matters; and I reminded +Clarence that she had not been loverless. She had rejected the +Curate of Hillside; and we all saw, though she did not, that only her +evident indifference kept Sir George Eastwood’s second son from +making further advances.</p> +<p>Clarence was not convinced. He said he had never seen our sister +look at either of these as she did when Lawrence came into the room; +and there was no denying that there was a soft and embellishing light +on her whole countenance, and a fresh sweetness in her voice. +But then he seemed such a boy as to make the notion ridiculous; and +yet, on reckoning, it proved that their years were equal. All +that could be hoped was that the sentiment, if it existed, would not +discover itself before they parted, so as to open their eyes to the +dreariness of the prospect, and cause our mother to think we had betrayed +our trust in the care of our sister. As we could do nothing, we +were not sorry that this was the last day. Clarence was to go +on board with Frith, see him out of the river, and come back with the +pilot; and we all drove down to the wharf together; nobody saying much +by the way, except the few jerky remarks we brothers felt bound to originate +and reply to.</p> +<p>Emily sat very still, her head bent under her shading bonnet - I +think she was trying to keep back tears for the solitary exile; and +Lawrence, opposite, was unable to help watching her with wistful eyes, +which would have revealed all, if we had not guessed it already. +It might be presumptuous, but it made us very sorry for him.</p> +<p>When the moment of parting came, there was a wringing of hands, and, +‘Thank you, thank you,’ in a low, broken, heartfelt voice, +and to Emily, ‘You have made life a new thing to me. I shall +never forget,’ and the showing of a tiny book in his waistcoat +pocket.</p> +<p>When the two had disappeared, Emily, no longer restraining her tears, +told me that she had exchanged Prayer-books with him, and they were +to read the Psalms at the same time every day. ‘I thought +it might be a help to him,’ she said simply.</p> +<p>Nor was there any consciousness in her talk as she related to me +what he had told her about his mother and sisters, and his dreary sense +of piteous loneliness, till we had adopted him as a brother - in which +capacity I trusted that she viewed him.</p> +<p>However, Clarence had been the recipient of all the poor lad’s +fervent feelings for Miss Winslow, how she had been a new revelation +to his desolate spirit, and was to be the guiding star of his life, +etc., etc., all from the bottom of his heart, though he durst not dream +of requital, and was to live, not on hope, but on memory of the angelic +kindness of these three weeks.</p> +<p>It was impossible not to be touched, though we strove to be worldly +wise old bachelors, and assured one another that the best and most probable +thing that could happen to Lawrence Frith would be to have his dream +blown away by the Atlantic breezes, and be left open to the charms of +some Chinese merchant’s daughter.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIII - TOO LATE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Thus Esau-like, our Father’s blessing miss,<br />Then +wash with fruitless tears our faded crown.’</p> +<p>KEBLE.</p> +<p>After such a rebuff as Martyn had experienced at Beachharbour, he +no longer haunted its neighbourhood, but devoted the long vacation of +the ensuing year to a walking tour in Germany, with one or two congenial +spirits, who shared his delight in scenery, pictures, and architecture.</p> +<p>By and by he wrote to Clarence from Baden Baden -</p> +<p>‘Whom do you think I should find here but Griffith and his +bird? I first spotted the old fellow smoking under a tree in the +Grand Platz, but he looked so seedy and altered altogether that I was +not sure enough of him to speak, especially as he showed no signs of +knowing me. (He says it was my whiskers that stumped him.) +I made inquiries and found that they figured as “Sir Peacock and +lady,” but they were entered all right in the book. He is +taking the “Kür” - he looks as if he wanted it - and +she is taking <i>rouge et noir</i>. I saw her at the salon, with +her neck grown as long as her namesake’s, but not as pretty, claws +to match, thin and painted, as if the ruling passion was consuming her. +Poor old Griff! he was glad enough to see me, but he is wofully shaky, +and nearly came to tears when he asked after Ted and all at home. +They had an upset of their carriage in Vienna last winter, and he got +some twist, or other damage, which he thought nothing of, but it has +never righted itself; I am sure he is very ill, and ought to be looked +after. He has had only foreign doctoring, and you know he never +was strong in languages. I heard of the medico here inquiring +what precise symptom <i>der Englander</i> meant by being “down +in zie mout!” Poor Griff is that, whatever else he is, and +Selina does not see it, nor anything else but her <i>rouge et noir</i> +table. I am afraid he plays too, when he is up to it, but he can’t +stand much of the stuffiness of the place, and he respects my innocence, +poor old beggar; so he has kept out of it, since we have been here. +He seems glad to have me to look after him, but afraid to let me stay, +for fear of my falling a victim to the place. I can’t well +tell him that there is a perpetual warning to youth in the persons of +himself and his Peacock. His mind might be vastly relieved if +I were out of it, but scarcely his body; and I shall not leave him till +I hear from home. Thomson says I am right. I should like +to bring the poor old man home for advice, especially if my lady could +be left behind, and by all appearances she would not object. Could +not you come, or mamma? Speak to papa about it. It is all +so disgusting that I really could not write to him. It is enough +to break one’s heart to see Griff when he hears about home, and +Edward, and Emily. I told him how famously you were getting on, +and he said, “It has been all up, up with him, all down, down +with me,” and then he wanted me to fix my day for leaving Baden, +as if it were a sink of infection. I fancy he thinks me a mere +infant still, for he won’t heed a word of advice about taking +care of himself and <i>will</i> do the most foolish things imaginable +for a man in his state, though I can’t make out what is the matter +with him. I tried both French and Latin with his doctor, equally +in vain.’</p> +<p>There was a great consultation over this letter. Our parents +would fain have gone at once to Baden, but my father was far from well; +in fact, it was the beginning of the break-up of his constitution. +He had been ageing ever since his disappointment in Griffith, and though +he had so enjoyed his jaunt with my mother that he had seemed revived +for the time, he had been visibly failing ever since the winter, and +my mother durst not leave him. Indeed she was only too well aware +that her presence was apt to inspire Selina with the spirit of contradiction, +and that Clarence would have a better chance alone. He was to +go up to London by the mail train, see Mr. Castleford, and cross to +Ostend.</p> +<p>A valise from the lumber-room was wanted, and at bedtime he went +in quest of it. He came back white and shaken; and I said -</p> +<p>‘You have not seen <i>her</i>?’</p> +<p>‘Yes, I have.’</p> +<p>‘It is not her time of year.’</p> +<p>‘No; I was not even thinking of her. There was none of +the wailing, but when I looked up from my rummaging, there was her face +as if in a window or mirror on the wall.’</p> +<p>‘Don’t dwell on it’ was all I could entreat, for +the apparition at unusual times had been mentioned as a note of doom, +and not only did it weigh on me, but it might send Clarence off in a +desponding mood. Tidings were less rapid when telegraphs were +not, and railways incomplete. Clarence did not reach Baden till +ten days after the despatch of Martyn’s letter, and Griffith’s +condition had in the meantime become much more serious. Low fever +had set in, and he was confined to his dreary lodgings, where Martyn +was doing his best for him in an inexperienced, helpless sort of way, +while Lady Peacock was at the <i>salle</i>, persisting in her belief +that the ailment was a temporary matter. Martyn afterwards declared +that he had never seen anything more touching than poor Griff’s +look of intense rest and relief at Clarence’s entrance.</p> +<p>On the way through London, by the assistance of Mr. Castleford, Clarence +had ascertained how to procure the best medical advice attainable, and +he was linguist enough to be an adequate interpreter. Alas! all +that was achieved was the discovery that between difficulties of language, +Griff’s own indifference, and his wife’s carelessness, the +injury had developed into fatal disease. An operation <i>might</i> +yet save him, if he could rally enough for it, but the fever was rapidly +destroying his remaining strength. Selina ascribed it to excitement +at meeting Martyn, and indeed he had been subject to such attacks every +autumn. Any way, he had no spirits nor wish for improvement. +If his brothers told him he was better, he smiled and said it was like +a condemned criminal trying to recover enough for the gallows. +His only desire was to be let alone and have Clarence with him. +He had ceased to be uneasy as to Martyn’s exposure to temptation, +but he said he could hardly bear to watch that bright, fresh young manhood, +and recollect how few years had passed since he had been such another, +nor did he like to have any nurse save Clarence. His wife at first +acquiesced, holding fast to the theory of the periodical autumnal fever, +and then that the operation would restore him to health; and as her +presence fretted him, and he received her small attentions peevishly, +she persisted in her usual habits, and heard with petulance his brothers’ +assurances of his being in a critical condition, declaring that it was +always thus with these fevers - he was always cross and low-spirited, +and no one could tell what she had undergone with him.</p> +<p>Then came days of positive pain, and nights of delirious, dreary +murmuring about home and all of us, more especially Ellen Fordyce. +Clarence had no time for letters, and Martyn’s became a call for +mamma, with the old childish trust in her healing and comforting powers, +declaring that he would meet her at Cologne, and steer her through the +difficulties of foreign travel.</p> +<p>Hesitation was over now. My father was most anxious to send +her, and she set forth, secure that she could infuse life, energy, and +resolution into her son, when those two poor boys had failed.</p> +<p>It was not, however, Martyn who met her, but his friend Thomson, +with the tidings that the suffering had become so severe as to prevent +Martyn from leaving Baden, not only on his brother’s account, +but because Lady Peacock had at last taken alarm, and was so uncontrollable +in her distress that he was needed to keep her out of the sickroom, +where her presence, poor thing, only did mischief.</p> +<p>She evidently had a certain affection for her husband; and it was +the more piteous that in his present state he only regarded her as the +tempter who had ruined his life - his false Duessa, who had led him +away from Una. On one unhappy evening he had been almost maddened +by her insisting on arguing with him; he called her a hag, declared +she had been the death of his children, the death of that dear one - +could she not let him alone now she had been the death of himself?</p> +<p>When Martyn took her away, she wept bitterly, and told enough to +make the misery of their life apparent, when the gaiety was over, and +regrets and recriminations set in.</p> +<p>However, there came a calmer interval, when the suffering passed +off, but in the manner which made the German doctor intimate that hope +was over. Would life last till his mother came?</p> +<p>His brothers had striven from the first to awaken thoughts of higher +things, and turn remorse into repentance; but every attempt resulted +in strange, sad wanderings about Esau, the birthright, and the blessing. +Indeed, these might not have been entirely wanderings, for once he said, +‘It is better this way, Bill. You don’t know what +you wish in trying to bring me round. Don’t be hard on me. +She drove me to it. It is all right now. The Jews will be +disappointed.’</p> +<p>For even at the crisis in London, he had concealed that he had raised +money on <i>post obits</i>, so that, had he outlived my father, Chantry +House would have been lost. Lady Peacock’s fortune had been +undermined when she married him; extravagance and gambling had made +short work of the rest.</p> +<p>Why should I speak of such things here, except to mourn over our +much-loved brother, with all his fine qualities and powers wasted and +overthrown? He clung to Clarence’s affection, and submitted +to prayers and psalms, but without response. He showed tender +recollection of us all, but scarcely durst think of his father, and +hardly appeared to wish to see his mother. Clarence’s object +soon came to be to obtain forgiveness for the wife, since bitterness +against her seemed the great obstacle to seeking pardon, peace, or hope; +but each attempt only produced such bitterness against her, and such +regrets and mourning for Ellen, as fearfully shook the failing frame, +while he moaned forth complaints of the blandishments and raillery with +which his temptress had beguiled him. Clarence tried in vain to +turn away this idea, but nothing had any effect till he bethought himself +of Ellen’s message, that she knew even this fatal act had been +prompted by generosity of spirit. There was truth enough in it +to touch Griff, but only so far as to cry, ‘What might I not have +been with her?’ Still, there was no real softening till +my mother came. He knew her at once, and all the old childish +relations were renewed between them. There was little time left +now, but he was wholly hers. Even Clarence was almost set aside, +save where strength was needed, and the mother seemed to have equal +control of spirit and body. It was she, who, scarcely aware of +what had gone before, caused him to admit Selina.</p> +<p>‘Tell her not to talk,’ he said. ‘But we +have each much to forgive one another.’</p> +<p>She came in, awed and silent, and he let her kiss him, sit near at +hand, and wait on my mother, whose coming had, as it were, insensibly +taken the bitterness away and made him as a little child in her hands. +He could follow prayers in which she led him, as he could not, or did +not seem to do, with any one else, for he was never conscious of the +presence of the clergyman whom Thomson hunted up and brought, and who +prayed aloud with Martyn while the physical agony claimed both my mother +and Clarence.</p> +<p>Once Griff looked about him and called out for our father, then recollecting, +muttered, ‘No - the birthright gone - no blessing.’</p> +<p>It grieved us much, it grieves me now, that this was his last distinct +utterance. He <i>looked</i> as if the comforting replies and the +appeals to the Source of all redemption did awaken a response, but he +never spoke articulately again; and only thirty-six hours after my mother’s +arrival, all was over.</p> +<p>Poor Selina went into passions of hysterics and transports of grief, +needing all the firmness of so resolute a woman as my mother to deal +with her. She was wild in self-accusation, and became so ill that +the care of her was a not unwholesome occupation for my mother, who +was one of those with whom sorrow has little immediate outlet, and is +therefore the more enduring.</p> +<p>She would not bring our brother’s coffin home, thinking the +agitation would be hurtful to my father, and anxious to get back to +him as soon as possible. So Griff was buried at Baden, and from +time to time some of us have visited his grave. Of course she +proposed Selina’s return to Chantry House with her; but Mr. Clarkson, +the brother, had come out to the funeral, and took his sister home with +him, certainly much to our relief, though all the sad party at Baden +had drawn much nearer together in these latter days.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIX - A PURPOSE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p> ‘It then draws near the season<br />Wherein +the spirit held his wont to walk.’</p> +<p><i>Hamlet.</i></p> +<p>We had really lost our Griffith long before - our bright, generous, +warm-hearted, promising Griff, the brilliance of our home; but his actual +death made the first breach in a hitherto unbroken family, and was a +new and strange shock. It made my father absolutely an old man; +and it also changed Martyn. His first contact with responsibility, +suffering, and death had demolished the light-hearted boyishness which +had lasted in the youngest of the family through all his high aspirations. +Till his return to Oxford, his chief solace was in getting some one +of us alone, going through all the scenes at Baden, discussing his new +impressions of the trials and perplexities of life, and seeking out +passages in the books that were becoming our oracles. What he +had admired externally before, he was grasping from within; nor can +I describe what the <i>Lyra Apostolica</i>, and the two first volumes +of <i>Parochial Sermons preached at Littlemore</i>, became to us.</p> +<p>Mr. Clarkson had been rather dry with my brothers at Baden, evidently +considering that poor Griffith had been as fatal to his sister as we +thought Selina had been to our brother. It was hardly just, for +there had been much more to spoil in him than in her; and though she +would hardly have trod a much higher path, there is no saying what he +might have been but for her.</p> +<p>Griffith had said nothing about providing for her, not having forgiven +her till he was past recollecting the need, but her brother had intimated +that something was due from the family, and Clarence had assented - +not, indeed, as to her deserts, poor woman, but her claims and her needs +- well knowing that my father would never suffer Griff’s widow +to be in want.</p> +<p>He judged rightly. My father was nervously anxious to arrange +for giving her £500 a year, in the manner most likely to prevent +her from making away with it, and leaving herself destitute. But +there had already been heavy pulls on his funded property, and ways +and means had to be considered, making Clarence realise that he had +become the heir. Somehow, there still remained, especially with +my mother and himself, a sense of his being a failure, and an inferior +substitute, although my father had long come to lean upon him, as never +had been the case with our poor Griff.</p> +<p>The first idea of raising the amount required was by selling an outlying +bit of the estate near the Wattlesea Station, for which an enterprising +builder was making offers, either to purchase or take on a building +lease. My father had received several letters on the subject, +and only hesitated from a feeling against breaking up the estate, especially +if this were part of the original Chantry House property, and not a +more recent acquisition of the Winslows. Moreover, he would do +nothing without Clarence’s participation.</p> +<p>The title-deeds were not in the house, for my father had had too +much of the law to meddle more than he could help with his own affairs, +and had left them in the hands of the family solicitor at Bristol, where +Clarence was to go and look over them. He rejoiced in the opportunity +of being able to see whether anything would throw light on the story +of the mullion chamber; and the certainty that the Wattlesea property +had never been part of the old endowment of the Chantry did not seem +nearly so interesting as a packet of yellow letters tied with faded +red tape. Mr. Ryder made no difficulty in entrusting these to +him, and we read them by our midnight lamp.</p> +<p>Clarence had seen poor Margaret’s will, bequeathing her entire +property to her husband’s son, Philip Winslow, and had noted the +date, 1705; also the copy of the decision in the Court of Probate that +there was no sufficient evidence of entail on the Fordyce family to +bar her power of disposing of it. We eagerly opened the letters, +but found them disappointing, as they were mostly offerings of ‘Felicitations’ +to Philip Winslow on having established his ‘Just Claim,’ +and ‘refuted the malicious Accusations of Calumny.’ +They only served to prove the fact that he had been accused of something, +and likewise that he had powerful friends, and was thought worth being +treated with adulation, according to the fashion of his day. Perhaps +it was hardly to be expected that he should have preserved evidence +against himself, but it was baffling to sift so little out of such a +mass of correspondence. If we could have had access to the Fordyce +papers, no doubt they would have given the other phase of the transaction, +but they were unattainable. The only public record that Clarence +could discover was much abbreviated, and though there was some allusion +to intimidation, the decision seemed to have been fixed by the non-existence +of any entail.</p> +<p>Christmas was drawing on, and gathering together what was left of +us. Though Griffith had spent only one Christmas at home in nine +years, it was wonderful how few we seemed, even when Martyn returned. +My father liked to have us about him, and even spoke of Clarence’s +giving up his post as manager at Bristol, and living entirely at home +to attend to the estate; but my mother did not encourage the idea. +She could not quite bear to accept any one in Griff’s place, and +rightly thought there was not occupation enough to justify bringing +Clarence home. I was competent to assist my father through all +the landlord’s business that came to him within doors, and Emily +had ridden and walked about enough with him to be an efficient inspector +of crops and repairs, besides that Clarence himself was within reach.</p> +<p>‘Indeed,’ he said to me, ‘I cannot loose my hold +on Frith and Castleford till I see my way into the future.’</p> +<p>I did not know what he intended either then or when he gave his voice +against dismembering the property by selling the Wattlesea estate, but +arranged for raising Selina’s income otherwise, persuading my +father to let him undertake the building of the required cottages out +of his own resources, on principles much more wholesome than were likely +to be employed by the speculator. Nor did grasp what was in his +mind when he made me look out my ‘ghost journal,’ as we +called my record of each apparition reported in the mullion chamber +or the lawn, with marks to those about which we had no reasonable doubt. +Separately there might be explanation, but conjointly and in connection +with the date they had a remarkable force.</p> +<p>‘I am resolved,’ said Clarence, ‘to see whether +that figure can have a purpose. I have thought of it all those +years. It has hitherto had no fair play. I was too much +upset by the sight, and beaten by the utter incredulity of everybody +else; but now I am determined to look into it.’</p> +<p>There was both awe and resolution in his countenance, and I only +stipulated that he should not be alone, or with no more locomotive companion +than myself. Martyn was as old as I had been at our former vigil, +and a person to be relied on.</p> +<p>A few months ago he would have treated the matter as a curious adventurous +enterprise - a concession to superstition or imagination; but now he +took it up with much grave earnestness. He had been discussing +the evidence for such phenomena with friends at Oxford, and the conclusion +had been that they were at times permitted, sometimes as warnings, sometimes +to accomplish the redress of a wrong, sometimes to teach us the reality +of the spiritual world about us; and, likewise, that some constitutions +were more susceptible than others to these influences. Of course +he had adduced all that he knew of his domestic haunted chamber, but +had found himself uncertain as to the amount of direct or trustworthy +evidence. So he eagerly read our jottings, and was very anxious +to keep watch with Clarence, though there were greater difficulties +in the way than when the outer chamber was Griffith’s sitting-room, +and always had a fire lighted.</p> +<p>To our disappointment, likewise, there came an invitation from the +Eastwoods for the evening of the 27th of December, the second of the +recurring days of the phantom’s appearance. My father could +not, and my mother would not go, but they so much wanted my brothers +and sister to accept it that it could not well be declined. It +was partly a political affair, and my father was anxious to put Clarence +forward, and make him take his place as the future squire; and my mother +thought depression had lasted long enough with her children, and did +not like to see Martyn so grave and preoccupied. ‘It was +quite right and very nice in him, dear boy, but it was not natural at +his age, though he was to be a clergyman.’</p> +<p>As to Emily, her gentle cheerfulness had helped us all through our +time of sorrow, and just now we had been gratified by the tidings of +young Lawrence Frith. That youth was doing extremely well. +There had been golden reports from manager and chaplain, addressed to +Mr. Castleford, the latter adding that the young man evidently owed +much to Mr. Winslow’s influence. Moreover, Lawrence had +turned out an excellent correspondent. Long letters, worthy of +forming a book of travels, came regularly to Clarence and me, indeed +they were thought worth being copied into that fat clasped MS. book +in the study. Writing them must have been a real solace to the +exile, in his island outside the town, whither all the outer barbarians +were relegated. So, no doubt, was the packing of the gifts that +were gradually making Prospect Cottage into a Chinese exhibition of +nodding mandarins, ivory balls, exquisite little cups, and faggots of +tea. Also, a Chinese walking doll was sent humbly as an offering +for the amusement of Miss Winslow’s school children, whom indeed +she astonished beyond measure; and though her wheels are out of order, +and her movements uncertain, she is still a stereotyped incident in +the Christmas entertainments.</p> +<p>There was no question but that these letters and remembrances gave +great pleasure to Emily; but I believe she was not in the least conscious +that though greater in degree, it was not of the same quality as that +she felt when a runaway scholar who had gone to sea presented her in +token of gratitude with a couple of dried sea-horses.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XL - THE MIDNIGHT CHASE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘What human creature in the dead of night<br /> Had +coursed, like hunted hare, that cruel distance,<br />Had sought the +door, the window in her flight<br /> Striving for dear +existence?’</p> +<p>HOOD.</p> +<p>On the night of the 26th of December, Clarence and Martyn, well wrapped +in greatcoats, stole into the outer mullion room; but though the usual +sounds were heard, and the mysterious light again appeared, Martyn perceived +nothing else, and even Clarence declared that if there were anything +besides, it was far less distinct to him than it had been previously. +Could it be that his spiritual perceptions were growing dimmer as he +became older, and outgrew the sensitiveness of nerves and imagination?</p> +<p>We came to the conclusion that it would be best to watch the outside +of the house, rather than within the chamber; and the dinner-party facilitated +this, since it accounted for being up and about nearer to the hour when +the ghost might be expected. Egress could be had through the little +garden door, and I undertook to sit up and keep up the fire.</p> +<p>All three came to my room on their return home, for Emily had become +aware of our scheme, and entreated to be allowed to watch with us. +Clarence had unfastened the alarum bell from my shutters, and taken +down the bar after the curtains had been drawn by the housemaid, and +he now opened them. It was a frosty moonlight night, and the lawn +lay white and crisp, marked with fantastic shadows. The others +looked grave and pale, Emily was in a thick white shawl and hood, with +a swan’s down boa over her black dress, a somewhat ghostly figure +herself, but we were in far too serious a mood for light observations.</p> +<p>There was something of a shudder about Clarence as he went to unbolt +the back door; Martyn kept close to him. We saw them outside, +and then Emily flew after them. From my window I could watch them +advancing on the central gravel walk, Emily standing still between her +brothers, clasping an arm of each. I saw the light near the ruin, +and caught some sounds as of shrieks and of threatening voices, the +light flitted towards the gable of the mullion rooms, and then was the +concluding scream. All was over, and the three came back much +agitated, Emily sinking into an armchair, panting, her hands over her +face, and a nervous trembling through her whole frame, Martyn’s +eyes looking wide and scared, Clarence with the well-known look of terror +on his face. He hurried to fetch the tray of wine and water that +was always left on the table when anyone went to a party at night, but +he shivered too much to prevent the glasses from jingling, and I had +to pour out the sherry and administer it to Emily. ‘Oh! +poor, poor thing,’ she gasped out.</p> +<p>‘You saw?’ I exclaimed.</p> +<p>‘They did,’ said Martyn; ‘I only saw the light, +and heard! That was enough!’ and he shuddered again.</p> +<p>‘Then Emily did,’ I began, but Clarence cut me short. +‘Don’t ask her to-night.’</p> +<p>‘Oh! let me tell,’ cried Emily; ‘I can’t +go away to bed till I have had it out.’</p> +<p>Then she gave the details, which were the more notable because she +had not, like Martyn, been studying our jottings, and had heard comparatively +little of the apparition.</p> +<p>‘When I joined the boys,’ she said, ‘I looked toward +the mullion rooms; I saw the windows lighted up, and heard a sobbing +and crying inside.’</p> +<p>‘So did I,’ put in Martyn, and Clarence bent his head.</p> +<p>‘Then,’ added Emily, ‘by the moonlight I saw the +gable end, not blank, and covered by the magnolia as it is now, but +with stone steps up to the bricked-up doorway. The door opened, +the light spread, and there came out a lady in black, with a lamp in +one hand, and a kind of parcel in the other, and oh, when she turned +her face this way, it was Ellen’s!’</p> +<p>‘So you called out,’ whispered Martyn.</p> +<p>‘Dear Ellen, not as she used to be,’ added Emily, ‘but +like what she was when last I saw her; no, hardly that either, for this +was sad, sad, scared, terrified, with eyes all tears, as Ellen never, +never was.’</p> +<p>‘I saw,’ added Clarence, ‘I saw the shape, but +not the countenance and expression as I used to do.’</p> +<p>‘She came down the steps,’ continued Emily, ‘looking +about her as if making her escape, but, just as she came opposite to +us, there was a sound of tipsy laughing and singing from the gate up +by the wood.’</p> +<p>‘I thought it real,’ said Martyn.</p> +<p>‘Then,’ continued Emily, ‘she wavered, then turned +and went under an arch in the ruin - I fancied she was hiding something +- then came out and fled across to the steps; but there were two dark +men rushing after her, and at the stone steps there was a frightful +shriek, and then it was all over, the steps gone, all quiet, and the +magnolia leaves glistening in the moonshine. Oh! what can it all +mean?’</p> +<p>‘Went under the arch,’ repeated Clarence. ‘Is +it what she hid there that keeps her from resting?’</p> +<p>‘Then you believe it really happened?’ said Emily, ‘that +some terrible scene is being acted over again. Oh! but can it +be the real spirits!’</p> +<p>‘That is one of the great mysteries,’ answered Martyn; +‘but I could tell you of other instances.’</p> +<p>‘Don’t now,’ I interposed; ‘Emily has had +quite enough.’</p> +<p>We reminded her that the ghastly tragedy was over and would not recur +again for another year; but she was greatly shaken, and we were very +sorry for her, when the clock warned her to go to her own room, whither +Martyn escorted her. He lighted every candle he could find, and +revived the fire; but she was sadly overcome by what she had witnessed, +she lay awake all the rest of the night, and in the morning, looked +so unwell, and had so little to tell about the party that my mother +thought her spirits had been too much broken for gaieties.</p> +<p>The real cause could not be confessed, for it would have been ascribed +to some kind of delirium, and have made a commotion for which my father +was unfit. Besides, we had reached an age when, though we would +not have disobeyed, liberty of thought and action had become needful. +All our private confabulations were on this extraordinary scene. +We looked for the arch in the ruin, but there was, as our morning senses +told us, nothing of the kind. She tried to sketch her remembrance +of both that and the gable of the mullion chamber, and Martyn prowled +about in search of some hiding-place. Our antiquarian friend, +Mr. Stafford, had made a conjectural drawing of the Chapel restored, +and all the portfolios about the house were searched for it, disquieting +mamma, who suspected Martyn’s Oxford notions of intending to rebuild +it, nor would he say that it ought not to be done. However, he +with his more advanced ecclesiology, pronounced Mr. Stafford’s +reconstruction to be absolutely mistaken and impossible, and set to +work on a fresh plan, which, by the bye, he derides at present. +It afforded, however, an excuse for routing under the ivy and among +the stones, but without much profit. From the mouldings on the +materials and in the stables and the front porch, it was evident that +the chapel had been used as a quarry, and Emily’s arch was very +probably that of the entrance door. In a dry summer, the foundations +of the walls and piers could be traced on the turf, and the stumps of +one or two columns remained, but the rest was only a confused heap of +fragments within which no one could have entered as in that strange +vision.</p> +<p>Another thing became clear. There had once been a wall between +the beech wood and the lawn, with a gate or door in it; Chapman could +just remember its being taken down, in James Winslow’s early married +life, when landscape gardening was the fashion. It must have been +through this that the Winslow brothers were returning, when poor Margaret +perhaps expected them to enter by the front.</p> +<p>We wished we could have consulted Dame Dearlove, but she had died +a few years before, and her school was extinct.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLI - WILLS OLD AND NEW</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘And that to-night thou must watch with me<br /> To +win the treasure of the tomb.’</p> +<p>SCOTT.</p> +<p>Some seasons seem to be peculiarly marked, as if Death did indeed +walk forth in them.</p> +<p>Old Mr. Frith died in the spring of 1841, and it proved that he had +shown his gratitude to Clarence by a legacy of shares in the firm amounting +to about £2000. The rest of his interest therein went to +Lawrence Frith, and his funded property to his sister, Mrs. Stevens, +a very fair and upright disposition of his wealth.</p> +<p>Only six weeks later, my father had a sudden seizure, and there was +only time to summon Clarence from London and Martyn from Oxford, before +a second attack closed his righteous and godly career upon earth.</p> +<p>My mother was very still and calm, hardly shedding a tear, but her +whole demeanour was as if life were over for her, and she had nothing +to do save to wait. She seemed to care very little for tendernesses +or attentions on our part. No doubt she would have been more desolate +without them, but we always had a baffled feeling, as though our affection +were contrasted with her perfect union with her husband. Yet they +had been a singularly undemonstrative couple; I never saw a kiss pass +between them, except as greeting or farewell before or after a journey; +and if my mother could not use the terms papa or your father, she always +said, ‘Mr. Winslow.’ There was a large gathering at +the funeral, including Mr. Fordyce, but he slept at Hillside, and we +scarcely saw him - only for a few kind words and squeezes of the hand. +Holy Week was begun, and he had to hurry back to Beachharbour that very +night.</p> +<p>The will had been made on my father’s coming into the inheritance. +It provided a jointure of £800 per annum for my mother, and gave +each of the younger children £3000. A codicil had been added +shortly after Griffith’s death, written in my father’s hand, +and witnessed by Mr. Henderson and Amos Bell. This put Clarence +in the position of heir; secured £500 a year to Griffith’s +widow, charged on the estate, and likewise an additional £200 +a year to Emily and to me, hers till marriage, mine for life, £300 +a year to Martyn, until Earlscombe Rectory should be voided, when it +was to be offered to him. The executors had originally been Mr. +Castleford and my mother, but by this codicil, Clarence was substituted +for the former.</p> +<p>The legacies did not come out of the Chantry House property, for +my father had, of course, means of his own besides, and bequests had +accrued to both him and my mother; but Clarence was inheriting the estate +much more burthened than it had been in 1829, having £2000 a year +to raise out of its proceeds.</p> +<p>My mother was quite equal to business, with a sort of outside sense, +which she applied to it when needful. Clarence made it at once +evident to her that she was still mistress of Chantry House, and that +it was still to be our home; and she immediately calculated what each +ought to contribute to the housekeeping. She looked rather blank +when she found that Clarence did not mean to give up business, nor even +to become a sleeping partner; but when she examined into ways and means, +she allowed that he was prudent, and that perhaps it was due to Mr. +Castleford not to deprive him of an efficient helper under present circumstances. +Meantime she was content to do her best for Earlscombe ‘for the +present,’ by which she meant till her son brought home a wife; +but we knew that to him the words bore a different meaning, though he +was still in doubt and uncertainty how to act, and what might be the +wrong to be undone.</p> +<p>He was anxious to persuade her to go from home for a short time, +and prevailed on her at last to take Emily and me to Dawlish, while +the repairs went on which had been deferred during my father’s +feebleness; at least that was the excuse. We two, going with great +regret, knew that his real reason was to have an opportunity for a search +among the ruins.</p> +<p>It was in June, just as Martyn came back from Oxford, eager to share +in the quest. Those two brothers would trust no one to help them, +but one by one, in the long summer evenings, they moved each of those +stones; I believe the servants thought they were crazed, but they could +explain with some truth that they wanted to clear up the disputed points +as to the architecture, as indeed they succeeded in doing.</p> +<p>They had, however, nearly given up, having reached the original pavement +and disinterred the piscina of the side altar, also a beautiful coffin +lid with a floriated cross; when, in a kind of hollow, Martyn lit upon +the rotten remains of something silken, knotted together. It seemed +to have enclosed a bundle. There were some rags that might have +been a change of clothing, also a Prayer-book, decayed completely except +the leathern covering, inside which was the startling inscription, ‘Margaret +Winslow, her booke; Lord, have mercy on a miserable widow woman.’ +There was also a thick leathern roll, containing needles, pins, and +scissors, entirely corroded, and within these a paper, carefully folded, +but almost destroyed by the action of damp and the rust of the steel, +so that only thus much was visible. ‘I, Margaret Winslow, +being of sound mind, do hereby give and bequeath - ’</p> +<p>Then came stains that defaced every line, till the extreme end, where +a seal remained; the date 1707 was legible, and there were some scrawls, +probably the poor lady’s signature, and perhaps that of witnesses. +Clarence and Martyn said very little to one another, but they set out +for Dawlish the next day.</p> +<p>‘Found’ was indicated to us, but no more, for they arrived +late, and had to sleep at the hotel, after an evening when we were delighted +to hear my mother ask so many questions about household and parish affairs. +In the morning she was pleased to send all ‘the children’ +out on the beach, then free from the railway. It was a beautiful +day, with the intensely blue South Devon sea dancing in golden ripples, +and breaking on the shore with the sound Clarence loved so well, as, +in the shade of the dark crimson cliffs, Emily sat at my feet and my +brothers unfolded their strange discoveries into her lap. There +was a kind of solemnity in the thing; we scarcely spoke, except that +Emily said, ‘Oh, will she come again,’ and, as the tears +gathered at sight of the pathetic petition in the old book, ‘Was +that granted?’</p> +<p>We reconstructed our theory. The poor lady must have repented +of the unjust will forced from her by her stepsons, and contrived to +make another; but she must have been kept a captive until, during their +absence at some Christmas convivialities, she tried to escape; but hearing +sounds betokening their return, she had only time to hide the bundle +in the ruin before she was detected, and in the scuffle received a fatal +blow.</p> +<p>‘But why,’ I objected, ‘did she not remain hidden +till her enemies were safe in the house?’</p> +<p>‘Terrified beyond the use of her senses,’ said Clarence.</p> +<p>‘By all accounts,’ said Martyn, ‘the poor creature +must have been rather a silly woman.’</p> +<p>‘For shame, Martyn,’ cried Emily, ‘how can you +tell? They might have seen her go in, or she might have feared +being missed.’</p> +<p>‘Or if you watch next Christmas you may see it all explained.’</p> +<p>To which Emily replied with a shiver that nothing would induce her +to go through it again, and indeed she hoped the spirit would rest since +the discovery had been made.</p> +<p>‘And then?’ - one of us said, and there was a silence, +and another futile attempt to read the will.</p> +<p>‘I shall take it to London and see what an expert can do with +it,’ said Clarence. ‘I have heard of wonderful decipherings +in the Record Office; but you will remember that even if it can be made +out, it will hardly invalidate our possession after a hundred and thirty +years.’</p> +<p>‘Clarence!’ cried Emily in a horrified voice; and I asked +if the date were not later than that by which we inherited.</p> +<p>‘Three years,’ Clarence said, ‘yes; but as things +stand, it is absolutely impossible for me to make restitution at present.’</p> +<p>‘On account of the burthens on the estate?’ I said.</p> +<p>‘Oh, but we could give up,’ said Emily.</p> +<p>‘I dare say!’ said Clarence, smiling; ‘but to say +nothing of poor Selina, my mother would hardly see it in the same light, +nor should I deal rightly, even if I could make any alterations; I doubt +whether my father would have held himself bound - certainly not while +no one can read this document.’</p> +<p>‘It would simply outrage his legal mind,’ said Martyn.</p> +<p>‘Then what is to be done? Is the injustice to be perpetual?’ +asked Emily.</p> +<p>‘This is what I have thought of,’ said Clarence. +‘We must leave matters as they are till I can realise enough either +to pay off all these bequests, or to offer Mr. Fordyce the value of +the estate.’</p> +<p>‘It is not the whole,’ I said.</p> +<p>‘Not the Wattlesea part. This means Chantry House and +the three farms in the village. £10,000 would cover it.’</p> +<p>‘Is it possible?’ asked Emily.</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ returned Clarence, ‘God helping me. +You know our concern is bringing in good returns, and Mr. Castleford +will put me in the way of doing more with my available capital.’</p> +<p>‘We will save so as to help you!’ added Emily. +At which he smiled.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLII - ON A SPREE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Her eyes as stars of twilight fair,<br />Like twilight too, +her dusky hair,<br />But all things else about her drawn<br />From May-time +and the cheerful dawn,<br />A dancing shape, an image gay,<br />To haunt, +to startle, and waylay.’</p> +<p>WORDSWORTH.</p> +<p>Clarence went to London according to his determination, and as he +had for some time been urgent that I should try some newly-invented +mechanical appliances, he took me with him, this being the last expedition +of the ancient yellow chariot. One of his objects was that I should +see St. Paul’s, Knightsbridge, which was then the most distinguished +church of our school of thought, and where there was to be some special +preaching. The Castlefords had a seat there, and I was settled +there in good time, looking at the few bits of stained glass then in +the east window, when, as the clergy came in from the vestry, I beheld +a familiar face, and recognised the fine countenance and bearing of +our dear old friend Frank Fordyce.</p> +<p>Then, looking at the row of ladies in front of me, I beheld for a +moment an outline of a profile recalling many things. No doubt, +Anne Fordyce was there, though instead of barely emulating my stunted +stature, she towered above her companions, looking to my mind most fresh +and graceful in her pretty summer dress; and I knew that Clarence saw +her too.</p> +<p>I had never heard Mr. Fordyce preach before, as in his flying visits +his ministrations were due at Hillside; and I certainly should have +been struck with the force and beauty of his sermon if I had never known +him before. It was curious that it was on the 49th Psalm, meant +perhaps for the fashionable congregation, but remarkably chiming in +with the feelings of us, who were conscious of an inheritance of evil +from one who had ‘done well unto himself;’ though, no doubt, +that was the last thing honest Parson Frank was thinking of.</p> +<p>When the service was over, and Anne turned, she became aware of us, +and her face beamed all over. It was a charming face, with a general +likeness to dear Ellen’s, but without the fragile ethereal look, +and all health, bloom, and enjoyment recalling her father’s. +She was only moving to let her pew-fellows pass out, and was waiting +for him to come for her, as he did in a few moments, and he too was +all pleasure and cordiality. He told us when we were outside that +he had come up to preach, and ‘had brought Miss Anne up for a +spree.’ They were at a hotel, Mrs. Fordyce was at home, +and the Lesters were not in town this season - a matter of rejoicing +to us. Could we not come home and dine with them at once? +We were too much afraid of disappointing Gooch to do so, but they made +an appointment to meet us at the Royal Academy as soon as it was open +the next morning.</p> +<p>There was a fortnight of enjoyment. Parson Frank was like a +boy out for a holiday. He had not spent more than a day or two +in town for many years; Anne had not been there since early childhood, +and they adopted Clarence as their lioniser, going through such a country-cousin +course of delights as in that memorable time with Ellen. They +even went down to Eton and Windsor, Frank Fordyce being an old Etonian. +I doubt whether Clarence ever had a more thoroughly happy time, not +even in the north of Devon, for there was no horse on his mind, and +he was not suppressed as in those days. Indeed, I believe, it +is the experience of others besides ourselves that there is often more +unmixed pleasure on casual holidays like this than in those of early +youth; for even if spirits are less high (which is not always the case), +anticipations are less eager, there is more readiness to accept whatever +comes, more matured appreciation, and less fret and friction at <i>contretemps.</i></p> +<p>I was not much of a drag, for when I could not be with the others, +I had old friends, and the museum was as dear to me as ever, in those +recesses that had been the paradise of my youth; but there was a good +deal in which we could all share, and as usual they were all kind consideration.</p> +<p>Anne overflowed with minute remembrances of her old home, and Clarence +so basked in her sunshine that it began to strike me that here might +be the solution of all the perplexities especially after the first evening, +when he had shown his strange discovery to Mr. Fordyce, who simply laughed +and said we need not trouble ourselves about it. Illegible was +it? He was heartily glad to hear that it was. Even otherwise, +forty years’ possession was quite enough, and then he pointed +to the grate, and said that was the best place for such things. +There was no fire, but Clarence could hardly rescue the paper from being +torn up.</p> +<p>As to the ghost, he knew much less than his daughter Ellen had done. +He said his old aunt had some stories about Chantry House being haunted, +and had thought it incumbent on her to hate the Winslows, but he had +thought it all nonsense, and such stories were much better forgotten. +‘Would he not see if there were any letters?’</p> +<p>There might be, perhaps in the solicitor’s office at Bath, +but if he ever got hold of them, he should certainly burn them. +What was the use of being Christians, if such quarrels were to be remembered?</p> +<p>Anne knew nothing. Aunt Peggy had died before she could remember, +and even Martyn had been discreet. Clarence said no more after +that one conversation, and seemed to me engrossed between his necessary +business at the office, and the pleasant expeditions with the Fordyces. +Only when they were on the point of returning home, did he tell me that +the will had been pronounced utterly past deciphering, and that he thought +he saw a way of setting all straight. ‘So do I,’ was +my rejoinder, and there must have been a foolishly sagacious expression +about me that made him colour up, and say, ‘No such thing, Edward. +Don’t put that into my head.’</p> +<p>‘Isn’t it there already?’</p> +<p>‘It ought not to be. It would be mere treachery in these +sweet, fresh, young, innocent, days of hers, knowing too what her mother +would think of it and of me. Didn’t you observe in old Frank’s +unguarded way of reading letters aloud, and then trying to suppress +bits, that Mrs. Fordyce was not at all happy at our being so much about +with them, poor woman. No wonder! the child is too young,’ +he added, showing how much, after all, he was thinking of it. +‘It would be taking a base advantage of them <i>now</i>.’</p> +<p>‘But by and by?’</p> +<p>‘If she should be still free when the great end is achieved +and the evil repaired, then I might dare.’</p> +<p>He broke off with a look of glad hope, and I could see it was forbearance +rather than constitutional diffidence that withheld him from awakening +the maiden’s feelings. He was a very fine looking man, in +his prime - tall, strong, and well made, with a singularly grave, thoughtful +expression, and a rare but most winning smile; and Anne was overflowing +with affectionate gladness at intercourse with one who belonged to the +golden age of her childhood. I could scarcely believe but that +in the friction of the parting the spark would be elicited, and I should +even have liked to kindle it for them myself, being tolerably certain +that warm-hearted, unguarded Parson Frank would forget all about his +lady and blow it with all his might.</p> +<p>We dined with the Fordyces at their hotel, and sat in the twilight +with the windows open, and we made Anne and Clarence sing, as both could +do without notes, but he would not undertake to remember anything with +an atom of sentiment in it, and when Anne did sing, ‘Auld lang +syne,’ with all her heart, he went and got into a dark corner, +and barely said, ‘Thank you.’</p> +<p>Not a definite answer could be extracted from him in reply to all +the warm invitations to Beachharbour that were lavished on us by the +father, while the daughter expatiated on its charms; the rocks I might +sketch, the waves and the delicious boating, and above all the fisher +children and the church. Nothing was wanting but to have us all +there! Why had we not brought Mrs. Winslow, and Emily, and Martyn, +instead of going to Dawlish?</p> +<p>Good creatures, they little knew the chill that had been cast upon +Martyn. They even bemoaned the having seen so little of him. +And we knew all the time that they were mice at play in the absence +of their excellent and cautious cat.</p> +<p>‘Now mind you do come!’ said Anne, as we were in the +act of taking leave. ‘It would be as good as Hillside to +have you by my Lion rock. He has a nose just like old Chapman’s, +and you must sketch it before it crumbles off. Yes, and I want +to show you all the dear old things you made for my baby-house after +the fire, your dear little wardrobe and all.’</p> +<p>She was coming out with us, oblivious that a London hotel was not +like her own free sea-side house. Her father was out at the carriage +door, prepared to help me in, Clarence halted a moment -</p> +<p>‘Please, pray, go back, Anne,’ he said, and his voice +trembled. ‘This is not home you know.’</p> +<p>She started back, but paused. ‘You’ll not forget.’</p> +<p>‘Oh no; no fear of my forgetting.’</p> +<p>And when seated beside me, he leant back with a sigh.</p> +<p>‘How could you help?’ I said.</p> +<p>‘How? Why the perfect, innocent, childish, unconsciousness +of the thing,’ he said, and became silent except for one murmur +on the way.</p> +<p>‘Consequences must be borne - ’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLIII - THE PRICE</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘With thee, my bark, I’ll swiftly go<br /> Athwart +the foaming brine.’</p> +<p>LORD BYRON.</p> +<p>Clarence would not tell me his purpose, he said, till he had considered +it more fully; nor could we have much conversation on the way home, +as my mother had arranged that we should bring an old friend of hers +back with us to pay her a visit. So I had to sit inside and make +myself agreeable to Mrs. Wrightson, while Clarence had plenty of leisure +for meditation outside on the box seat. The good lady said much +on the desirableness of marriage for Clarence, and the comfort it would +be to my mother to see Emily settled.</p> +<p>We had heard much in town of railway shares; and the fortunes of +Hudson, the railway king, were under discussion. I suspected Clarence +of cogitating the using his capital in this manner; and hoped that when +he saw his way, he might not think it dishonourable to come into further +contact with Anne, and reveal his hopes. He allowed that he was +considering of such investments, but would not say any more.</p> +<p>My mother and Emily had, in the meantime, been escorted home by Martyn. +The first thing Clarence did was to bespeak Emily’s company in +a turn in the garden. What passed then I never knew nor guessed +for years after. He consulted her whether, in case he were absent +from England for five, seven, or ten years, she would be equal to the +care of my mother and me. Martyn, when ordained, would have duties +elsewhere, and could only be reckoned upon in emergencies. My +mother, though vigorous and practical, had shown symptoms of gout, and +if she were ill, I could hardly have done much for her; and on the other +hand, though my health and powers of moving were at their best, and +I was capable of the headwork of the estate, I was scarcely fit to be +the representative member of the family. Moreover, these good +creatures took into consideration that poor mamma and I would have been +rather at a loss as each other’s sole companions. I could +sort shades for her Berlin work, and even solve problems of intricate +knitting, and I could read to her in the evening; but I could not trot +after her to her garden, poultry-yard, and cottages; nor could she enter +into the pursuits that Emily had shared with me for so many years. +Our connecting link, that dear sister, knew how sorely she would be +missed, and she told Clarence that she felt fully competent to undertake, +conjointly with us, all that would be incumbent on Chantry House, if +he really wanted to be absent. For the rest, Clarence believed +my mother would be the happier for being left regent over the estate; +and his scheme broke upon me that very forenoon, when my mother and +he were settling some executor’s business together, and he told +her that Mr. Castleford wished him to go out to Hong Kong, which was +then newly ceded to the English, and where the firm wished to establish +a house of business.</p> +<p>‘You can’t think of it,’ she exclaimed, and the +sound fell like a knell on my ears.</p> +<p>‘I think I must,’ was his answer. ‘We shall +be cut out if we do not get a footing there, and there is no one who +can quite answer the purpose.’</p> +<p>‘Not that young Frith - ’</p> +<p>‘Ten to one but he is on his way home. Besides, if not, +he has his own work at Canton. We see our way to very considerable +advantages, if - ’</p> +<p>‘Advantages!’ she interrupted. ‘I hate speculation. +I should have thought you might be contented with your station; but +that is the worst of merchants, - they never know when to stop. +I suppose your ambition is to make this a great overgrown mansion, so +that your father would not know it again.’</p> +<p>‘Certainly not that, mamma,’ said Clarence smiling; ‘it +is the last thing I should think of; but stopping would in this case +mean going backward.’</p> +<p>‘Why can’t Mr. Castleford send one of his own sons?’</p> +<p>‘Probably Walter may come out by and by, but he has not experience +enough for this.’</p> +<p>Clarence had not in the least anticipated my mother’s opposition, +for he had come to underestimate her affection for and reliance on him. +He had us all against him, for not only could we not bear to part with +him; but the climate of Hong-Kong was in evil repute, and I had become +persuaded that, with his knowledge of business, railway shares and scrip +might be made to realise the amount needed, but he said, ‘That +is what <i>I</i> call speculation. The other matter is trade in +which, with Heaven’s blessing, I can hope to prosper.’</p> +<p>He explained that Mr. Castleford had received him on his coming to +London with almost a request that he would undertake this expedition; +but with fears whether, in his new position, he could or would do so, +although his presence in China would be very important to the firm at +this juncture; and there would be opportunities which would probably +result in very considerable profits after a few years. If Clarence +had been, as before, a mere younger brother, it would have been thought +an excellent chance; and he would almost have felt bound by his obligations +to Mr. Castleford to undertake the first starting of the enterprise, +if it had not been for our recent loss, and the doubt whether he could +he spared from home.</p> +<p>He made light of the dangers of climate. He had never suffered +in that way in his naval days, and scarcely knew what serious illness +meant. Indeed, he had outgrown much of that sensibility of nerve +which had made him so curiously open to spiritual or semi-spiritual +impressions.</p> +<p>‘Any way,’ he said, ‘the thing is right to be done, +provided my mother does not make an absolute point of my giving it up; +and whether she does or not depends a good deal on how you others put +it to her.’</p> +<p>‘Right on Mr. Castleford’s account?’ I asked.</p> +<p>‘That is one side of it. To refuse would put him in a +serious difficulty; but I could perhaps come home sooner if it were +not for this other matter. I told him so far as that it was an +object with me to raise this sum in a few years, and he showed me how +there is every likelihood of my being able to do so out there. +So now I feel in your hands. If you all, and Edward chiefly, set +to and persuade my mother that this undertaking is a dangerous business, +and that I can only be led to it by inordinate love of riches - ’</p> +<p>‘No, no - ’</p> +<p>‘That’s what she thinks,’ pursued Clarence, ‘and +that I want to be a grander man than my father. That’s at +the bottom of her mind, I see. Well, if you deplore this, and +let her think the place can’t do without me, she will come out +in her strength and make it my duty to stay at home.’</p> +<p>‘It is very tempting,’ said Emily.</p> +<p>‘We all undertook to give up something.’</p> +<p>‘We never thought it would come in this way!’</p> +<p>‘We never do,’ said Clarence.</p> +<p>‘Tell me,’ said Martyn, ‘is this to content that +ghost, poor thing? For it is very hard to believe in her, except +in the mullion room in December.’</p> +<p>‘Exactly so, Martyn,’ he answered. ‘Impressions +fade, and the intellect fails to accept them. But I do not think +that is my motive. We know that a wicked deed was done by our +ancestor, and we hardly have the right to pray, “Remember not +the sins of our forefathers,” unless, now that we know the crime, +we attempt what restitution in us lies.’</p> +<p>There was no resisting after this appeal, and after the first shock, +my mother was ready to admit that as Clarence owed everything to Mr. +Castleford, he could not well desert the firm, if it were really needful +for its welfare that he should go out. We got her to look on Mr. +Castleford as captain of the ship, and Clarence as first lieutenant; +and when she was once convinced that he did not want to aggrandise the +family, but to do his duty, she dropped her objections; and we soon +saw that the occupations that his absence would impose on her would +be a fresh interest in life.</p> +<p>Just as the decision was thus ratified, a packet from Canton arrived +for Clarence from Bristol. It was the first reply of young Frith +to the tidings of the bequest which had changed the poor clerk to a +wealthy man, owning a large proportion of the shares of the prosperous +house.</p> +<p>I asked if he were coming home, and Clarence briefly replied that +he did not know, - ‘it depended - ’</p> +<p>‘Is he going to wed a fair Chinese with lily feet?’ asked +Martyn, to which the reply was an unusually discourteous ‘Bosh,’ +as Clarence escaped with his letter. He was so reticent about +it that I required a solemn assurance that poor Lawrence’s head +had not been turned by his fortune, and that there was nothing wrong +with him. Indeed, there was great stupidity in never guessing +the purport of that thick letter, nor that it contained one for Emily, +where Lawrence Frith laid himself, and all that he had, at her feet, +ascribing to her all the resolution with which he had kept from evil, +and entreating permission to come home and endeavour to win her heart. +We lived so constantly together that it is surprising that Clarence +contrived to give the letter to Emily in private. She implored +him to say nothing to us, and brought him the next day her letter of +uncompromising refusal.</p> +<p>He asked whether it would have been the same if he had intended to +remain at home.</p> +<p>‘As if you were a woman, you conceited fellow,’ was all +the answer she vouchsafed him.</p> +<p>Nor could he ascertain, nor perhaps would she herself examine, on +which side lay her heart of hearts. The proof had come whether +she would abide by her pledge to him to accept the care of us in his +absence. When he asked it, it had not occurred to him that it +might be a renunciation of marriage. Now he perceived that so +it had been, but she kept her counsel and so did he. We others +never guessed at what was going on between those two.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLIV - PAYING THE COST</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘But oh! the difference to me.’</p> +<p>WORDSWORTH.</p> +<p>So Clarence was gone, and our new life begun in its changed aspect. +Emily showed an almost feverish eagerness to make it busy and cheerful, +getting up a sewing class in the village, resuming the study of Greek, +grappling with the natural system in botany, all of which had been fitfully +proposed but hindered by interruptions and my father’s feebleness.</p> +<p>On a suggestion of Mr. Stafford’s, we set to work on that <i>History +of Letter Writing</i> which, what with collecting materials, and making +translations, lasted us three years altogether, and was a great resource +and pleasure, besides ultimately bringing in a fraction towards the +great purpose. Emily has confessed that she worked away a good +deal of vague, weary depression, and sense of monotony into those Greek +choruses: but to us she was always a sunbeam, with her ever ready attention, +and the playfulness which resumed more of genuine mirth after the first +effort and strain of spirits were over.</p> +<p>Then journal-letters on either side began to bridge the gulf of separation, +- those which, minus all the specially interesting portions, are to +be seen in the volume we culled from them, and which had considerable +success in its day.</p> +<p>Martyn worked in the parish and read with Mr. Henderson till he was +old enough for Ordination, and then took the curacy of St. Wulstan’s, +under a hardworking London vicar, and thenceforth his holidays were +our festivals. Our old London friends pitied us for what they +viewed as a fearfully dull life, and in the visits they occasionally +paid us thought they were doing us a great favour by bringing us new +ideas and shooting our partridges.</p> +<p>We hardly deserved their compassion: our lives were full of interest +to ourselves - that interest which comes of doing ever so feeble a stroke +of work in one great cause; and there was much keen participation in +the general life of the Church in the crisis through which she was passing. +We found that, what with drawing pictures, writing little books, preparing +lessons for teachers, and much besides which is now ready done by the +National Society and Sunday School Institute, we could do a good deal +to assist Martyn in his London work, and our own grew upon us.</p> +<p>For the first year of her widowhood, my mother shrank from society, +and afterwards had only spasmodic fits of doubt whether it were not +her duty to make my sister go out more. So that now and then Emily +did go to a party, or to make a visit of some days or weeks from home, +and then we knew how valuable she was. It would be hard to say +whether my mother were relieved or disappointed when Emily refused James +Eastwood, in spite of many persuasions, not only from himself, but his +family. I believe mamma thought it selfish to be glad, and that +it was a failure in duty not to have performed that weighty matter of +marrying her daughter; feeling in some way inferior to ladies who had +disposed of a whole flock under five and twenty, whereas she had not +been able to get rid of a single one!</p> +<p>Of Clarence’s doings in China I need not speak; you have read +of them in the book for yourselves, and you know how his work prospered, +so that the results more than fulfilled his expectations, and raised +the firm to the pitch of greatness and reputation which it has ever +since preserved, and this without soiling his hands with the miserable +opium traffic. Some of the subordinates were so set on the gains +to be thus obtained, that he and Lawrence Frith had a severe struggle +with them to prevent it, and were forced conjointly to use all their +authority as principals to make it impossible. Those two were +the greatest of friends. Their chief relaxation was one another’s +company, and their earnest aim was to support the Christian mission, +and to keep up the tone of their English dependants, a terribly difficult +matter, and one that made the time of their return somewhat doubtful, +even when Walter Castleford was gone out to relieve them. Their +health had kept up so well that we had ceased to be anxious on that +point, and it was through the Castlefords that we received the first +hint that Clarence might not be as well as his absence of complaint +had led us to believe.</p> +<p>In fact he had never been well since a terrible tempest, when he +had worked hard and exposed himself to save life. I never could +hear the particulars, for Lawrence was away, and Clarence could not +write about it himself, having been prostrated by one of those chills +so perilous in hot countries; but from all I have heard, no resident +in Hong-Kong would have believed that Mr. Winslow’s courage could +ever have been called in question. He ought to have come home +immediately after that attack of fever; for the five years were over, +and his work nearly done; but there was need to consolidate his achievements, +and a strong man is only too apt to trifle with his health. We +might have guessed something by the languor and brevity of his letters, +but we thought the absence of detail owing to his expectation of soon +seeing us; and had gone on for months expecting the announcement of +a speedy return, when an unexpected shock fell on us. Our dear +mother was still an active woman, with few signs of age about her, when, +in her sixty-seventh year, she was almost suddenly taken from us by +an attack of gout in the stomach.</p> +<p>I feel as if I had not done her justice, and as if she might seem +stern, unsympathising, and lacking in tenderness. Yet nothing +could be further from the truth. She was an old-fashioned mother, +who held it her duty to keep up her authority, and counted over-familiarity +and indulgence as sins. To her ‘the holy spirit of discipline +was the beginning of wisdom,’ and to make her children godly, +truthful, and honourable was a much greater object than to win their +love. And their love she had, and kept to a far higher degree +than seems to be the case with those who court affection by caresses +and indulgence. We knew that her approval was of a generous kind, +we prized enthusiastically her rare betrayals of her motherly tenderness, +and we depended on her in a manner we only realised in the desolation, +dreariness, and helplessness that fell upon us, when we knew that she +was gone. She had not, nor had any of us, understood that she +was dying, and she had uttered only a few words that could imply any +such thought. On hearing that there was a letter from Clarence, +she said, ‘Poor Clarence! I should like to have seen him. +He is a good boy after all. I’ve been hard on him, but it +will all be right now. God Almighty bless him!’</p> +<p>That was the only formal blessing she left among us. Indeed, +the last time I saw her was with an ordinary good-night at the foot +of the stairs. Emily said she was glad that I had not to carry +with me the remembrance of those paroxysms of suffering. My dear +Emily had alone the whole force of that trial - or shall I call it privilege? +Martyn did not reach home till some hours after all was over, poor boy.</p> +<p>And in the midst of our desolateness, just as we had let the daylight +in again upon our diminished numbers round the table, came a letter +from Hong-Kong, addressed to me in Lawrence Frith’s writing, and +the first thing I saw was a scrawl, as follows:-</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘DEAREST TED - All is in your hands. You can do <i>it</i>. +God bless you all. W. C. W.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>When I came to myself, and could see and hear, Martyn was impressing +on me that where there is life there is hope, though indeed, according +to poor Lawrence’s letter, there was little of either. He +feared our hearing indirectly, and therefore wrote to prepare us.</p> +<p>He had been summoned to Hong-Kong to find Clarence lying desperately +ill, for the most part semi-delirious, holding converse with invisible +forms, or entreating some one to let him alone - he had done his best. +In one of his more lucid intervals he had made Lawrence find that note +in a case that lay near him, and promise to send it; and he had tried +to send some messages, but they had become confused, and he was too +weak to speak further.</p> +<p>The next mail was sure to bring the last tidings of one who had given +his life for right and justice. It was only a reprieve that what +it actually brought was the intelligence that he was still alive, and +more sensible, and had been able to take much pleasure in seeing the +friend of his youth, Captain Coles, who was there with his ship, the +<i>Douro</i>. Then there had been a relapse. Captain Coles +had brought his doctor to see him, and it had been pronounced that the +best chance of saving him was a sea-voyage. The <i>Douro</i> had +just received orders to return to England, and Coles had offered to +take home both the friends as guests, though there was evidently little +hope that our brother would reach any earthly home. As we knew +afterwards, he had smiled and said it was like rehabilitation to have +the chance of dying on board one of H.M. ships. And he was held +in such respect, and was so entirely one of the leading men of the little +growing colony, and had been known as such a friend to the naval men, +and had so gallantly aided a Queen’s ship in that hurricane, that +his passage home in this manner only seemed a natural tribute of respect. +A few last words from Lawrence told us that he was safely on board, +all unconscious of the silent, almost weeping, procession that had escorted +his litter to the <i>Douro’s</i> boat, only too much as if it +were his bier. In fact, Captain Coles actually promised him that +if he died at sea he should be buried with the old flag.</p> +<p>We could not hope to hear more for at least six weeks, since our +letter had come by overland mail, and the <i>Douro</i> would take her +time. It was a comfort in this waiting time that Martyn could +be with us. His rector had been promoted; there was a general +change of curates; and as Martyn had been working up to the utmost limits +of his strength, we had no scruple in inducing him to remain with us, +and undertake nothing fresh till this crisis was past. Though +as to rest, not one Sunday passed without requests for his assistance +from one or more of the neighbouring clergy.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLV - ACHIEVED</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘And hopes and fears that kindle hope,<br />An undistinguishable +throng,<br />And gentle wishes long subdued -<br />Subdued and cherished +long.’</p> +<p>S. T. COLERIDGE.</p> +<p>The first that we did hear of our brother was a letter with a Falmouth +postmark, which we scarcely dared to open. There was not much +in it, but that was enough. ‘D. G.- I shall see you all +again. We put in at Portsmouth.’</p> +<p>There was no staying at home after that. We three lost no time +in starting, for railways had become available, and by the time we had +driven from the station at Portsmouth the <i>Douro</i> had been signalled.</p> +<p>Martyn took a boat and went on board alone, for besides that Emily +did not like to leave me, her dress would have been a revelation that +<i>all</i> were no longer there to greet the arrival. The precaution +was, however, unnecessary. There stood Clarence on deck, and after +the first greeting, he laid his hand on Martyn’s arm and said, +‘My mother is gone?’ and on the wondering assent, ‘I +was quite sure of it.’</p> +<p>So they came ashore, Clarence lying in the man-of-war’s boat, +in which his friend insisted on sending him, able now to give a smiling +response and salute to the three cheers with which the crew took leave +of him. He was carried up to our hotel on a stretcher by half-a-dozen +blue jackets. Indeed he was grievously changed, looking so worn +and weak, so hollow-eyed and yellow, and so fearfully wasted, that the +very memory is painful; and able to do nothing but lie on the sofa holding +Emily’s hand, gazing at us with a face full of ineffable peace +and gladness. There was a misgiving upon me that he had only come +back to finish his work and bid us farewell.</p> +<p>Kindly and considerately they had sent him on before with Martyn. +In a quarter of an hour’s time his good doctor came in with Lawrence +Frith, a considerable contrast to our poor Clarence, for the slim gypsy +lad had developed into a strikingly handsome man, still slender and +lithe, but with a fine bearing, and his bronzed complexion suiting well +with his dark shining hair and beautiful eyes. They had brought +some of the luggage, and the doctor insisted that his patient should +go to bed directly, and rest completely before trying to talk.</p> +<p>Then we heard that his condition, though still anxious, was far from +being hopeless, and that after the tropics had been passed, he had been +gradually improving. The kind doctor had got leave to go up to +London with us, and talk over the case with L---, and he hoped Clarence +might be able to bear the journey by the next afternoon.</p> +<p>Presently after came Captain Coles, whom we had not seen since the +short visit when we had idolised the big overgrown midshipman, whom +Clarence exhibited to our respectful and distant admiration nearly twenty +years ago. My mother used to call him a gentlemanly lad, and that +was just what he was still, with a singularly soft gentle manner, gallant +officer and post-captain as he was. He cheered me much, for he +made no doubt of Clarence’s ultimate recovery, and he added that +he had found the dear fellow so valued and valuable, so useful in all +good works, and so much respected by all the English residents, ‘that +really,’ said the captain, ‘I did not know whether to deplore +that the service should have lost such a man, or whether to think it +had been a good thing for him, though not for us, that - that he got +into such a scrape.’</p> +<p>I said something of our thanks.</p> +<p>‘To tell you the truth,’ said Coles, ‘I had my +doubts whether it had not been a cruel act, for he had a terrible turn +after we got him on board, and all the sounds of a Queen’s ship +revived the past associations, and always of a painful kind in his delirium, +till at last, just as I gave him up, the whole character of his fancies +seemed to change, and from that time he has been gaining every day.’</p> +<p>We kept the captain to dinner, and gathered a good deal more understanding +of the important position to which Clarence had risen by force of character +and rectitude of purpose in that strange little Anglo-Chinese colony; +and afterwards, I was allowed to make a long visit to Clarence, who, +having eaten and slept, was quite ready to talk.</p> +<p>It seemed that the great distress of his illness had been the recurrence +- nay, aggravation - of the strange susceptibility of brain and nerve +that had belonged to his earlier days, and with it either imagination +or perception of the spirit-world. Much that had seemed delirium +had belonged to that double consciousness, and he perfectly recollected +it. As Coles had said, the sights and sounds of the ship had been +a renewal of the saddest time in his life; he could not at night divest +himself of the impression that he was under arrest, and the sins of +his life gathered themselves in fearful and oppressive array, as if +to stifle him, and the phantom of poor Margaret with her lamp - which +had haunted him from the beginning of his illness - seemed to taunt +him with having been too fainthearted and tardy to be worthy to espouse +her cause. The faith to which he tried to cling <i>would</i> seem +to fail him in those awful hours, when he could only cry out mechanical +prayers for mercy. Then there had come a night when he had heard +my mother say, ‘All right now; God Almighty bless him.’ +And therewith the clouds cleared from his mind. The power of <i>feeling</i>, +as well as believing in, the blotting out of sin, returned, the sense +of pardon and peace calmed him, and from that time he was fully himself +again, ‘though,’ he said, ‘I knew I should not see +my mother here.’</p> +<p>If she could only have seen him come home under the Union Jack, cheered +by sailors, and carried ashore by them, it would have been to her like +restoration. Perhaps Clarence in his dreamy weakness had so felt +it, for certainly no other mode of return to Portsmouth, the very place +of his degradation, could so have soothed him and effaced those memories. +The English sounds were a perfect charm to him, as well as to Lawrence, +the commonest street cry, the very slices of bread and butter, anything +that was not Chinese, was as water to the thirsty! And wasted +as was his face, the quiet rest and joy were ineffable.</p> +<p>Still Portsmouth was not the best place for him, and we were glad +that he was well enough to go up to London in the afternoon; intensely +delighting in the May beauty of the green meadows, and white blossoming +hedgerows, and the Church towers, especially the gray massiveness of +Winchester Cathedral. ‘Christian tokens,’ he said, +instead of the gay, gilded pagodas and quaint crumpled roofs he had +left. The soft haze seemed to be such a rest after the glare of +perpetual clearness.</p> +<p>We were all born Londoners, and looked at the blue fog, and the broad, +misty river, and the brooding smoke, with the affection of natives, +to the amazement of Lawrence, who had never been in town without being +browbeaten and miserable. That he hardly was now, as he sat beside +Emily all the way up, though they did not say much to one another.</p> +<p>He told us it was quite a new sensation to walk into the office without +timidity, and to have no fears of a biting, crushing speech about his +parents or himself; but to have the clerks getting up deferentially +as soon as he was known for Mr. Frith. He had hardly ever been +allowed by his old uncle to come across Mr. Castleford, who was of course +cordial and delighted to receive him, and, without loss of time, set +forth to see Clarence.</p> +<p>The consultation with the physician had taken place, and it was not +concealed from us that Clarence’s health was completely shattered, +and his state still very precarious, needing the utmost care to give +him any chance of recovering the effects of the last two years, when +he had persevered, in spite of warning, in his eagerness to complete +his undertaking, and then to secure what he had effected. The +upshot of the advice given him was to spend the summer by the seaside, +and if he had by that time gathered strength, and surmounted the symptoms +of disease, to go abroad, as he was not likely to be able as yet to +bear English cold. Business and cares were to be avoided, and +if he had anything necessary to be done, it had better be got over at +once, so as to be off his mind. Martyn and Frith gathered that +the case was thought doubtful, and entirely dependent on constitution +and rallying power. Clarence himself seemed almost passive, caring +only for our presence and the accomplishment of his task.</p> +<p>We had a blessed thanksgiving for mercies received in the Margaret +Street Chapel, as we called what is now All Saints; but he and I were +unfit for crowds, and on Sunday morning availed ourselves of a friend’s +seat in our old church, which felt so natural and homelike to us elders +that Martyn was scandalised at our taste. But it was the church +of our Confirmation and first Communion, and Clarence rejoiced that +it was that of his first home-coming Eucharist. What a contrast +was he now to the shrinking boy, scarcely tolerated under his stigmatised +name. Surely the Angel had led him all his life through!</p> +<p>How happy we two were in the afternoon, while the others conducted +Lawrence to some more noteworthy church.</p> +<p>‘Now,’ said Clarence, ‘let us go down to Beachharbour. +It must be done at once. I have been trying to write, and I can’t +do it,’ and his face lighted with a quiet smile which I understood.</p> +<p>So we wrote to the principal hotel to secure rooms, and set forth +on Tuesday, leaving Frith to finish with Mr. Castleford what could not +be settled in the one business interview that had been held with Clarence +on the Monday.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVI - RESTITUTION</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Ah! well for us all some sweet hope lies<br />Deeply buried +from human eyes.’</p> +<p>WHITTIER.</p> +<p>Things always happen in unexpected ways. During the little +hesitation and difficulty that always attend my transits at a station, +a voice was heard to say, ‘Oh! Papa, isn’t that Edward +Winslow?’ Martyn gave a violent start, and Mr. Fordyce was +exclaiming, ‘Clarence, my dear fellow, it isn’t you! +I beg your pardon; you have strength enough left nearly to wring one’s +hand off!’</p> +<p>‘I - I wanted very much to see you, sir,’ said Clarence. +‘Could you be so good as to appoint a time?’</p> +<p>‘See you! We must always be seeing you of course. +Let me think. I’ve got three weddings and a funeral to-morrow, +and Simpson coming about the meeting. Come to luncheon - all of +you. Mrs. Fordyce will be delighted, and so will somebody else.’</p> +<p>There was no doubt about the somebody else, for Anne’s feet +were as nearly dancing round Emily as public propriety allowed, and +the radiance of her face was something to rejoice in. Say what +people will, Englishwomen in a quiet cheerful life are apt to gain rather +than lose in looks up to the borders of middle age. Our Emily +at two-and-thirty was fair and pleasant to look on; while as for Anne +Fordyce at twenty-three, words will hardly tell how lovely were her +delicate features, brown eyes, and carnation cheeks, illuminated by +that sunshine brightness of her father’s, which made one feel +better all day for having been beamed upon by either of them. +Clarence certainly did, when the good man turned back to say, ‘Which +hotel? Eh? That’s too far off. You must come +nearer. I would see you in, but I’ve got a woman to see +before church time, and I’m short of a curate, so I must be sharp +to the hour.’</p> +<p>‘Can I be of any use?’ eagerly asked Martyn. ‘I’ll +follow you as soon as I have got these fellows to their quarters.’</p> +<p>We had Amos with us, and were soon able to release Martyn, after +a few compliments on my not being as usual <i>the</i> invalid; and by +and by he came back to take Emily to inspect a lodging, recommended +by our friends, close to the beach, and not a stone’s throw from +the Rectory built by Mr. Fordyce. As we two useless beings sat +opposite to each other, looking over the roofs of houses at the blue +expanse and feeling the salt breeze, it was no fancy that Clarence’s +cheek looked less wan, and his eyes clearer, as a smile of content played +on his lips. ‘Years sit well on her,’ he said gaily; +and I thought of rewards in store for him.</p> +<p>Then he took this opportunity of consulting me on the chances for +Frith, telling of the original offer, and the quiet constancy of his +friend, and asking whether I thought Emily would relent. And I +answered that I suspected that she would, - ‘But you must get +well first.’</p> +<p>‘I begin to think that more possible,’ he answered, and +my heart bounded as he added, ‘she would be satisfied since you +would always have a home with <i>us</i>.’</p> +<p>Oh, how much was implied in that monosyllable. He knew it, +for a little faint colour came up, as he, shyly, laughed and hesitated, +‘That is - if - ’</p> +<p>‘If’ included Mrs. Fordyce’s not being ungracious. +Nor was she. Emily had found her as kind as in the old days at +Hillside, and perfectly ready to bring us into close vicinity. +It was not caprice that had made this change, but all possible doubt +and risk of character were over, the old wound was in some measure healed, +and the friendship had been brought foremost by our recent sorrow and +our present anxiety. Anne was in ecstasies over Emily. ‘It +is so odd,’ she said, ‘to have grown as old as you, whom +I used to think so very grown up,’ and she had all her pet plans +to display in the future. Moreover, Martyn had been permitted +to relieve the Rector from the funeral - a privilege which seemed to +gratify him as much as if it had been the liveliest of services.</p> +<p>We were to lunch at the Rectory, and the move of our goods was to +be effected while we were there. We found Mrs. Fordyce looking +much older, but far less of an invalid than in old times, and there +was something more genial and less exclusive in her ways, owing perhaps +to the difference of her life among the many classes with whom she was +called on to associate.</p> +<p>Somersetshire, Beachharbour, and China occupied our tongues by turns, +and we had to begin luncheon without the Rector, who had been hindered +by numerous calls; in fact, as Anne warned us, it was a wonder if he +got the length of the esplanade without being stopped half-a-dozen times.</p> +<p>His welcome was like himself, but he needed a reminder of Clarence’s +request for an interview. Then we repaired to the study, for Clarence +begged that his brothers might be present, and then the beginning was +made. ‘Do you remember my showing you a will that I found +in the ruins at Chantry House?’</p> +<p>‘A horrid old scrap that you chose to call one. Yes; +I told you to burn it.’</p> +<p>‘Sir, we have proved that a great injustice was perpetrated +by our ancestor, Philip Winslow, and that the poor lady who made that +will was cruelly treated, if not murdered. This is no fancy; I +have known it for years past, but it is only now that restitution has +become possible.’</p> +<p>‘Restitution? What are you talking about? I never +wanted the place nor coveted it.’</p> +<p>‘No, sir, but the act was our forefather’s. You +cannot bid us sit down under the consciousness of profiting by a crime. +I could not do so before, but I now implore you to let me restore you +either Chantry House and the three farms, or their purchase money, according +to the valuation made at my father’s death. I have it in +hand.’</p> +<p>Frank Fordyce walked about the room quite overcome. ‘You +foolish fellow!’ he said, ‘Was it for this that you have +been toiling and throwing away your health in that pestiferous place? +Edward, did you know this?’</p> +<p>‘Yes,’ I answered. ‘Clarence has intended +this ever since he found the will.’</p> +<p>‘As if that was a will! You consented.’</p> +<p>‘We all thought it right.’</p> +<p>He made a gesture of dismay at such folly.</p> +<p>‘I do not think you understand how it was, Mr. Fordyce,’ +said Clarence, who by this time was quivering and trembling as in his +boyish days.</p> +<p>‘No, nor ever wish to do so. Such matters ought to be +forgotten, and you don’t look fit to say another word.’</p> +<p>‘Edward will tell you,’ said Clarence, leaning back.</p> +<p>I had the whole written out, and was about to begin, when the person, +with whom there was an appointment, was reported, and we knew that the +rest of the day was mapped out.</p> +<p>‘Look here,’ said Mr. Fordyce, ‘leave that with +me; I can’t give any answer off-hand, except that Don Quixote +is come alive again, only too like himself.’</p> +<p>Which was true, for Clarence took long to rally from the effort, +and had to be kept quiet for some time in the study where we were left. +He examined me on the contents of my paper, and was vexed to hear that +I had mentioned the ghost, which he said would discredit the whole. +Never was the dear fellow so much inclined to be fretful, and when Martyn +restlessly observed that if we did not want him, he might as well go +back to the drawing-room, the reply was quite sharp - ‘Oh yes, +by all means.’</p> +<p>No wonder there was pain in the tone; for the next words, after some +interval, were, when two happy voices came ringing in from the garden +behind, ‘You see, Edward.’</p> +<p>Somehow I had never thought of Martyn. He had simply seemed +to me a boy, and I had decided that Anne would be the crown of Clarence’s +labours. I answered ‘Nonsense; they are both children together!’</p> +<p>‘The nonsense was elsewhere,’ he said. ‘They +always were devoted to each other. I saw how it was the moment +he came into the room.’</p> +<p>‘Don’t give up,’ I said; ‘it is only the +old habit. When she knows all, she must prefer - ’</p> +<p>‘Hush!’ he said. ‘An old scarecrow and that +beautiful young creature!’ and he laughed.</p> +<p>‘You won’t be an old scarecrow long.’</p> +<p>‘No,’ he said in an ominous way, and cut short the discussion +by going back to Mrs. Fordyce.</p> +<p>He was worn out, had a bad night, and did not get up to breakfast; +I was waiting for it in the sitting-room, when Mr. Fordyce came in after +matins with Emily and Martyn.</p> +<p>‘I feel just like David when they brought him the water of +Bethlehem,’ he said. ‘You know I think this all nonsense, +especially this - this ghost business; and yet, such - such doings as +your brother’s can’t go for nothing.’</p> +<p>His face worked, and the tears were in his eyes; then, as he partook +of our breakfast, he cross-examined us on my statement, and even tried +to persuade us that the phantom in the ruin was Emily; and on her observing +that she could not have seen herself, he talked of the Brocken Spectre +and fog mirages; but we declared the night was clear, and I told him +that all the rational theories I had ever heard were far more improbable +than the appearance herself, at which he laughed. Then he scrupulously +demanded whether this - this (he failed to find a name for it) would +be an impoverishment of our family, and I showed how Clarence had provided +that we should be in as easy circumstances as before. In the midst +came in Clarence himself, having hastened to dress, on hearing that +Mr. Fordyce was in the house, and looking none the better for the exertion.</p> +<p>‘Look here, my dear boy,’ said Frank, taking his hot +trembling hand, ‘you have put me in a great fix. You have +done the noblest deed at a terrible cost, and whatever I may think, +it ought not to be thrown away, nor you be hindered from freeing your +soul from this sense of family guilt. But here, my forefathers +had as little right to the Chantry as yours, and ever since I began +to think about such things, I have been thankful it was none of mine. +Let us join in giving it or its value to some good work for God - pour +it out to the Lord, as we may say. Bless me! what have I done +now.’</p> +<p>For Clarence, muttering ‘thank you,’ sank out of his +grasp on a chair, and as nearly as possible fainted; but he was soon +smiling and saying it was all relief, and he felt as if a load he had +been bearing had been suddenly removed.</p> +<p>Frank Fordyce durst stay no longer, but laid his hand on Clarence’s +head and blessed him.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVII - THE FORDYCE STORY</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘For soon as once the genial plain<br />Has drunk the life-blood +of the slain,<br />Indelible the spots remain,<br />And aye for vengeance +call.’</p> +<p>EURIPIDES - (<i>Anstice</i>).</p> +<p>Still all was not over, for by the next day our brother was as ill, +or worse, than ever. The doctor who came from London allowed that +he had expected something of the kind, but thought we must have let +him exert himself perilously. Poor innocent Martyn and Anne, they +little suspected that their bright eyes and happy voices had something +to do with the struggle and disappointment, which probably was one cause +of the collapse. As to poor Frank Fordyce, I never saw him so +distressed; he felt as if it were all his own fault, or that of his +ancestors, and, whenever he was not required by his duties, was lingering +about for news. I had little hope, though Clarence seemed to me +the very light of my eyes; it was to me as though, his task being accomplished, +and the earthly reward denied, he must be on his way to the higher one.</p> +<p>His complete quiescence confirmed me in the assurance that he thought +so himself. He was too ill for speech, but Lawrence, who could +not stay away, was struck with the difference from former times. +Not only were there no delusions, but there was no anxiety or uneasiness, +as there had always been in the former attacks, when he was evidently +eager to live, and still more solicitous to be told if he were in a +hopeless state. Now he had plainly resigned himself -</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘Content to live, but not afraid to die;’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>and perhaps, dear fellow, it was chiefly for my sake that he was +willing to live. At least, I know that when the worst was over, +he announced it by putting those wasted fingers into mine, and saying +-</p> +<p>‘Well, dear old fellow, I believe we shall jog on together, +after all.’</p> +<p>That attack, though the most severe of all, brought, either owing +to skilful treatment or to his own calm, the removal of the mischief, +and the beginning of real recovery. Previously he had given himself +no time, but had hurried on to exertions which retarded his cure, so +as very nearly to be fatal; but he was now perfectly submissive to whatever +physicians or nurses desired, and did not seem to find his slow convalescence +in the least tedious, since he was amongst us all again.</p> +<p>It was nearly a month before he was disposed to recur to the subject +of his old solicitude again, and then he asked what Mr. Fordyce had +said or done. Just nothing at all; but on the next visit paid +to the sick-room, Parson Frank yielded to his earnest request to send +for any documents that might throw light on the subject, and after a +few days he brought us a packet of letters from his deed-box. +They were written from Hillside Rectory to the son in the army in Flanders, +chiefly by his mother, and were full of hot, angry invective against +our family, and pity for poor, foolish ‘Madam,’ or ‘Cousin +Winslow,’ as she was generally termed, for having put herself +in their power.</p> +<p>The one most to the purpose was an account of the examination of +Molly Cox, the waiting-woman, who had been in attendance on the unfortunate +Margaret, and whose story tallied fairly with Aunt Peggy’s tradition. +She declared that she was sure that her mistress had met with foul play. +She had left her as usual at ten o’clock on the fatal 27th of +December 1707, in the inner one of the old chambers; and in the night +had heard the tipsy return home of the gentlemen, followed by shrieks. +In the morning she (the maid) who usually was the first to go to her +room, was met by Mistress Betty Winslow, and told that Madam was ill, +and insensible. The old nurse of the Winslows was called in; and +Molly was never left alone in the sick-room, scarcely permitted to approach +the bed, and never to touch her lady. Once, when emptying out +a cup at the garden-door, she saw a mark of blood on the steps, but +Mr. Philip came up and swore at her for a prying fool. Doctor +Tomkins was sent for, but he barely walked through the room, and ‘all +know that he is a mere creature of Philip Winslow,’ wrote the +Mrs. Fordyce of that date to her son. And presently after, ‘Justice +Eastwood declared there is no case for a Grand Jury; but he is a known +Friend and sworn Comrade of the Winslows, and bound to suppress all +evidence against them. Nay, James Dearlove swears he saw Edward +Winslow slip a golden Guinea into his Clerk’s Hand. But +as sure as there is a Heaven above us, Francis, poor Cousin Winslow +was trying to escape to us of her own Kindred, and met with cruel Usage. +Her Blood is on their Heads.’</p> +<p>‘There!’ said Frank Fordyce. ‘This Francis +challenged Philip Winslow’s eldest son, a mere boy, three days +after he joined the army before Lille, and shot him like a dog. +I turned over the letter about it in searching for these. I can’t +boast of my ancestors more than you can. But may God accept this +work of yours, and take away the guilt of blood from both of us.’</p> +<p>‘And have you thought what is best to be done?’ asked +Clarence, raising himself on his cushions.</p> +<p>‘Have you?’ asked the Vicar.</p> +<p>‘Oh yes; I have had my dreams.’</p> +<p>They put their castles together, and they turned out to be for an +orphanage, or rather asylum, not too much hampered with strict rules, +combined with a convalescent home. The battle of sisterhoods was +not yet fought out, and we were not quite prepared for them; but Frank +Fordyce had, as he said, ‘the two best women in the world in his +eye’ to make a beginning.</p> +<p>There was full time to think and discuss the scheme, for our patient +was in no condition to move for many weeks, lying day after day on a +couch just within the window of our sitting-room, which was as nearly +as possible in the sea, so that he constantly had the freshness of its +breezes, the music of its ripple, and the sight of its waves, and seemed +to find endless pleasure in watching the red sails, the puffs of steam, +and the frolics of the children, simple or gentle, on the beach.</p> +<p>Something else was sometimes to be watched. Martyn, all this +time, was doing the work of two curates, and was to be seen walking +home with Anne from church or school, carrying her baskets and bags, +and, as we were given to understand, discussing by turns ecclesiastical +questions, visionary sisterhoods, and naughty children. At first +I wished it were possible to remove Clarence from the perpetual spectacle, +but we had one last talk over the matter, and this was quite satisfactory.</p> +<p>‘It does me no harm,’ he said; ‘I like to see it. +Yes, it is quite true that I do. What was personal and selfish +in my fancies seems to have been worn out in the great lull of my senses +under the shadow of death; and now I can revert with real joy and thankfulness +to the old delight of looking on our dear Ellen as our sister, and watch +those two children as we used when they talked of dolls’ fenders +instead of the surplice war. I have got you, Edward; and you know +there is a love “passing the love of women.”’</p> +<p>A lively young couple passed by the window just then, and with untamed +voices observed -</p> +<p>‘There are those two poor miserable objects! It is enough +to make one melancholy only to look at them.’</p> +<p>Whereat we simultaneously burst out laughing; perhaps because a choking, +very far from misery, was in our throats.</p> +<p>At any rate, Clarence was prepared to be the cordial, fatherly brother, +when Martyn came headlong in upon us with the tidings that utterly indescribable, +unimaginable joy had befallen him. A revelation seemed simultaneously +to have broken upon him and Anne while they were copying out the Sunday +School Registers, that what they had felt for each other all their lives +was love - ‘real, true love,’ as Anne said to Emily, ‘that +never could have cared for anybody else.’</p> +<p>Mrs. Fordyce’s sharp eyes had seen what was coming, and accepted +the inevitable, quite as soon as Clarence had. She came and talked +it over with us, saying she was perfectly satisfied and happy. +Martyn was all that could be wished, and she was sincerely glad of the +connection with her old friends. So, in fact, was dear old Frank, +but he had been running about with his head full, and his eyes closed, +so that it was quite a shock to him to find that his little Anne, his +boon companion and playfellow, was actually grown up, and presuming +to love and be loved; and he could hardly believe that she was really +seven years older than her sister had been when the like had begun with +her. But if Anne must be at those tricks, he said, shaking his +head at her, he had rather it was with Martyn than anybody else.</p> +<p>There was no difficulty as to money matters. In truth, Martyn +was not so good a match as an heiress, such as was Anne Fordyce, might +have aspired to, and her Lester kin were sure to be shocked; but even +if Clarence married, the Earlscombe living went for something (though, +by the bye, he has never held it), and the Fordyces only cared that +there should be easy circumstances. The living of Hillside would +be resigned in favour of Martyn in the spring, and meantime he would +gain more experience at Beachharbour, and this would break the separation +to the Fordyces.</p> +<p>After all, however, theirs was not to be our first wedding. +I have said little of Emily. The fact was, that after that week +of Clarence’s danger, we said she lived in a kind of dream. +She fulfilled all that was wanted of her, nursing Clarence, waiting +on me, ordering dinner, making the tea, and so forth; but it was quite +evident that life began for her on the Saturdays, when Lawrence came +down, and ended on the Mondays, when he went away. If, in the +meantime, she sat down to work, she went off into a trance; if she was +sent out for fresh air, she walked quarter-deck on the esplanade, neither +seeing nor hearing anything, we averred, but some imaginary Lawrence +Frith.</p> +<p>If she had any drawback, good girl, it was the idea of deserting +me; but then, as I could honestly tell her, nobody need fear for my +happiness, since Clarence was given back to me. And she believed, +and was ready to go to China with her Lawrence.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVIII - THE LAST DISCOVERY</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>‘Grief will be joy if on its edge<br />Fall soft that holiest +ray,<br />Joy will be grief, if no faint pledge<br />Be there of heavenly +day.’</p> +<p>KEBLE.</p> +<p>We did not move from Beachharbour till September, and by that time +it had been decided that Chantry House itself should be given up to +the new scheme. It was too large for us, and Clarence had never +lived there enough to have any strong home feeling for it; but he rather +connected it with disquiet and distress, and had a longing to make actual +restitution thereof, instead of only giving an equivalent, as he did +in the case of the farms. Our feelings about the desecrated chapel +were also considerably changed from the days when we regarded it merely +as a picturesque ruin, and it was to be at once restored both for the +benefit of the orphanage, and for that of the neighbouring households. +For ourselves, a cottage was to be built, suited to our idiosyncrasies; +but that could wait till after the yacht voyage, which we were to make +together for the winter.</p> +<p>Thus it came to pass that the last time we inhabited Chantry House +was when we gave Emily to Lawrence Frith. We would fain have made +it a double wedding, but the Fordyces wished to wait for Easter, when +Martyn would have been inducted to Hillside. They came, however, +that Mrs. Fordyce might act lady of the house, and Anne be bridesmaid, +as well as lay the first stone of St. Cecily’s restored chapel.</p> +<p>It was on the day on which they were expected, when the workmen were +digging foundations, and clearing away rubbish, that the foreman begged +Mr. Winslow to come out to see something they had found. Clarence +came back, very grave and awe-struck. It was an old oak chest, +and within lay a skeleton, together with a few fragments of female clothing, +a wedding ring, and some coins of the later Stewarts, in a rotten leathern +purse. This was ghastly confirmation, though there was nothing +else to connect the bones with poor Margaret. We had some curiosity +as to the coffin in the niche in the family vault which bore her name, +but both Clarence and Mr. Fordyce shrank from investigations which could +not be carried out without publicity, and might perhaps have disturbed +other remains.</p> +<p>So on the ensuing night there was a strange, quiet funeral service +at Earlscombe Church. Mr. Henderson officiated, and Chapman acted +as clerk. These, with Amos Bell, alone knew the tradition, or +understood what the discovery meant to the two Fordyces and three Winslows +who stood at the opening of the vault, and prayed that whatever guilt +there might be should be put away from the families so soon to be made +one. The coins were placed with those of Victoria, which the next +day Anne laid beneath the foundation-stone of St. Cecily’s. +I need not say that no one has ever again heard the wailings, nor seen +the lady with the lamp.</p> +<p>What more is there to tell? It was of this first half of our +lives that I intended to write, and though many years have since passed, +they have not had the same character of romance and would not interest +you. Our honeymoon, as Mr. Fordyce called the expedition we two +brothers made in the Mediterranean, was a perfect success; and Clarence +regained health, and better spirits than had ever been his; while contriving +to show me all that I was capable of being carried to see. It +was complete enjoyment, and he came home, not as strong as in old times, +but with fair comfort and capability for the work of life, so as to +be able to take Mr. Castleford’s place, when our dear old friend +retired from active direction of the firm.</p> +<p>You all know how the two old bachelors have kept house together in +London and at Earlscombe cottage, and you are all proud of the honoured +name Clarence Winslow has made for himself, foremost in works for the +glory of God and the good of men - as one of those merchant princes +of England whose merchandise has indeed been Holiness unto the Lord.</p> +<p>Thus you must all have felt a shock on finding that he always looked +on that name as blotted, and that one of the last sayings I heard from +him was, ‘O remember not the sins and offences of my youth, but +according to Thy mercy, think upon me, O Lord, for Thy goodness.’</p> +<p>Then he almost smiled, and said, ‘Yes, He has so looked on +me, and I am thankful.’</p> +<p>Thankful, and so am I, for those thirty-four peaceful years we spent +together, or rather for the seventy years of perfect brotherhood that +we have been granted, and though he has left me behind him, I am content +to wait. It cannot be for long. My brothers and sisters, +their children, and my faithful Amos Bell, are very good to me; and +in writing up to that <i>mezzo termine</i> of our lives, I have been +living it over again with my brother of brothers, through the troubles +that have become like joys.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>REMARKS.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Uncle Edward has not said half enough about his dear old self. +I want to know if he never was unhappy when he was young about being +<i>like that</i>, though mother says his face was always nearly as beautiful +as it is now. And it is not only goodness. It <i>is</i> +beautiful with his sweet smile and snowy white hair. ELLEN WINSLOW.</p> +<p>And I wonder, though perhaps he could not have told, what Aunt Anne +would have done if Uncle Clarence had not been so forbearing before +he went to China. CLARE FRITH.</p> +<p>The others are highly impertinent questions, but we ought to know +what became of Lady Peacock. ED. G. W.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>REPLY.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>Poor woman, she drifted back to London after about ten years, with +an incurable disease. Clarence put her into lodgings near us, +and did his best for her as long as she lived. He had a hard task, +but she ended by saying he was her only friend.</p> +<p>To question No. 2 I have nothing to say; but as to No. 1, with its +extravagant compliment, Nature, or rather God, blessed me with even +spirits, a methodical nature that prefers monotony, and very little +morbid shyness; nor have I ever been devoid of tender care and love. +So that I can only remember three severe fits of depression. One, +when I had just begun to be taken out in the Square Gardens, and Selina +Clarkson was heard to say I was a hideous little monster. It was +a revelation, and must have given frightful pain, for I remember it +acutely after sixty-five years.</p> +<p>The second fit was just after Clarence was gone to sea, and some +very painful experiments had been tried in vain for making me like other +people. For the first time I faced the fact that I was set aside +from all possible careers, and should be, as I remember saying, ‘no +better than a girl.’ I must have been a great trial to all +my friends. My father tried to reason on resignation, and tell +me happiness could be <i>in</i> myself, till he broke down. My +mother attempted bracing by reproof. Miss Newton endeavoured to +make me see that this was my cross. Every word was true, and came +round again, but they only made me for the time more rebellious and +wretched. That attack was ended, of all things in the world, by +heraldry. My attention somehow was drawn that way, and the study +filled up time and thought till my misfortunes passed into custom, and +haunted me no more.</p> +<p>My last was a more serious access, after coming into the country, +when improved health and vigour inspired cravings that made me fully +sensible of my blighted existence. I had gone the length of my +tether and overdone myself; I missed London life and Clarence; and the +more I blamed myself, and tried to rouse myself, the more despondent +and discontented I grew.</p> +<p>This time my physician was Mr. Stafford; I had deciphered a bit of +old French and Latin for him, and he was very much pleased. ‘Why, +Edward,’ he said, ‘you are a very clever fellow; you can +be a distinguished - or what is better - a useful man.’</p> +<p>Somehow that saying restored the spring of hope, and gave an impulse! +I have not been a distinguished man, but I think in my degree I have +been a fairly useful one, and I am sure I have been a happy one. +E. W.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>‘Useful! that you have, dear old fellow. Even if you +had done nothing else, and never been an unconscious backbone to Clarence; +your influence on me and mine has been unspeakably blest. But +pray, Mistress Anne, how about that question of naughty little Clare’s?’ +M. W.</p> +<p>‘Don’t you think you had better let alone that question, +reverend sir? Youngest pets are apt to be saucy, especially in +these days, but I didn’t expect it of you! It might have +been the worse for you if W. C. W. had not held his tongue in those +days. Just like himself, but I am heartily glad that so he did. +A. W.’</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<p>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, CHANTRY HOUSE ***</p> +<pre> + +******This file should be named chhs10h.htm or chhs10h.zip****** +Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, chhs11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, chhs10ah.htm + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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