THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES SANDRA BELLONI ORIGINALLY TCMTTJA IN ENGLAND SANDRA BELLONI OBIOINALLY EMILIA IN ENGLAND BY GEORGE MEREDITH REVISED EDITION NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1923 COPYKIGHT, 1896, BY GEORGE MEREDITH Printed in the United States of America College library CONTENTS OTA.P. PAOH I. THE POLES PRELUDE 1 II. THE EXPEDITION BY MOONLIGHT .... 6 in. WILFRID'S DIPLOMACY 13 iv. EMILIA'S FIRST TRIAL IN PUBLIC .... 18 V. EMILIA PLAYS ON THE CORNET .... 23 VI. EMILIA SUPPLIES THE KEY TO HERSELF AND CON- TINUES -HER PERFORMANCE ON THE CORNET . 31 VII. THREATS OF A CRISIS IN THE GOVERNMENT OF BROOKFIELD : AND OF THE VIRTUE RESIDENT IN A TAIL-COAT 42 VIII. IN WHICH A BIG DRUM SPEEDS THE MARCH OF EMILIA'S HISTORY 49 EX. THE RIVAL CLUBS 58 X. THE LADIES OF BROOKFIELD AT SCHOOL ... 82 XI. IN WHICH WE SEE THE MAGNANIMITY THAT IS IN BEER 72 XII. SHOWING HOW SENTIMENT AND PASSION TAKE THE DISEASE OF LOVE .82 XIII. CONTAINS A SHORT DISCOURSE ON PUPPETS . . 89 XIV. THE BE8WORTH QUESTION 92 V VI CONTENTS CHAP. xr. WILFRID'S EXHIBITION OF TREACHERY . . . 108 XVI. HOW THE LADIES OF BROOKFIELD CAME TO THEIR RESOLVE ........ 123 XVII. IN THE WOODS ..... . . . 136 XVIII. RETURN OF THE 8ENTIMEHTALI8T INTO BONDAGE 142 XIX. LIFE AT BROOKFIELD ...... 148 XX. BY WILMING WEIR . . . . . . . 156 XXI. RETURN OF MR. PERICLES ..... 164 XXII. THE PITFALL OF SENTIMENT ..... 173 XXIII. WILFRID DIPLOMATIZES ...... 180 XXIV. EMILIA MAKES A MOVE . . . . . .188 XXV. A FARCE WITHIN A FARCE ..... 198 XXVI. SUGGESTS THAT THE COMIC MASK HAS SOME KIN- SHIP WITH A SKULL ...... 209 XXVII. SMALL LIFE AT BROOKFIELD ..... 218 XXVIII. GEORGIANA FORD ....... 225 XXIX. FIRST SCOURGING OF THE FINE SHADES . . 234 XXX. OF THE DOUBLE-MAN IN US, AND THE GREAT FIGHT WHEN THESE ARE FULL-GROWN . . 237 XXXI. BE8WORTH LAWN ....... 242 XXXII. THE SUPPER ........ 256 XXXIII. DEFEAT AND FLIGHT OF MRS. CHUMP . . . 268 XXXIV. INDICATES THE DEGRADATION OF BROOKFIELD, TOGETHER WITH CERTAIN PROCEEDINGS OF THE YACHT ........ 281 xxxv. MRS. CHUMP'S EPISTLE .- 292 CONTENTS Vil CHAP. PAOB XXXVI. ANOTHER PITFALL OF SENTIMENT. . . . 300 xxxvu. EMILIA'S FLIGHT 315 XXXVIII. SHE CLINGS TO HER VOICE 331 XXXIX. HER VOICE FAILS 341 XL. SHE TASTES DESPAIR 350 XLI. SHE IS FOUND 364: XLII. DEFECTION OF MR. PERICLES FROM THE BROOK- FIELD CIRCLE 367 XLIII. IN WHICH WE SEE WILFRID KINDLING . . 380 XLIV. ON THE HIPPOGRIFF IN AIR: IN WHICH THE PHILOSOPHER HAS A SHORT SPELL . . . 389 XLV. ON THE HIPPOGRIFF ON EARTH .... 392 XLVI. RAPE OF THE BLACK-BRIONY WREATH . . 395 XLVII. THE CALL TO ACTION 400 XLVIII. CONTAINS A FURTHER VIEW OF SENTIMENT . 407 XLIX. BETWEEN EMILIA AND GEORGIANA . . . 412 L. EMILIA BEGINS TO FEEL MERTHYJt'S POWER . 418 LI. A CHAPTER INTERRUPTED BT THE PHILOSOPHER 425 LII. A FRESH DUETT BETWEEN WILFRID AND EMILIA 427 LIII. ALDERMAN'S BOUQUET 436 LIV. THE EXPLOSION AT BROOKFIELD .... 442 LV. THE TRAGEDY OF SENTIMENT .... 448 LVI. AN ADVANCE AND A CHECK 462 LVII. CONTAINS A FURTHER ANATOMY OF WILFRID . 474 LVIII. FROST ON THE MAY NIGHT . . . . 478 LIX. EMILIA'S GOOD-BYE 483 SANDRA BELLONI ORIGINALLY EMILIA IN ENGLAND CHAPTER I THE POLES PRELUDE WE are to make acquaintance with some serious damsels, as this English generation knows them, and at a season verging upon May. The ladies of Brookfield, Arabella, Cornelia, and Adela Pole, daughters of a flourishing City- of -London merchant, had been told of a singular thing: that in the neighbouring fir-wood a voice was to be heard by night, so wonderfully sweet and richly toned, that it required their strong sense to correct strange imaginings concerning it. Adela was herself the chief witness to its unearthly sweetness, and her "testimony was confirmed by Edward Buxley, whose ear had likewise taken in the notes, though not on the same night, as the pair publicly proved by dates. Both declared that the voice belonged to an opera-singer or a spirit. The ladies of Brookfield, declin- ing the alternative, perceived that this was a surprise fur- nished for their amusement by the latest celebrity of their circle, Mr. Pericles, their father's business ally and fellow- speculator; Mr. Pericles, the Greek, the man who held millions of money as dust compared to a human voice. Fortified by this exquisite supposition, their strong sense at once dismissed with scorn the idea of anything unearthly, however divine, being heard at night, in the nineteenth century, within sixteen miles of London City. They agreed I 2 EMILIA IN ENGLAND that Mr. Pericles had hired some charming cantatrice to draw them into the woods and delightfully bewilder them. It was to be expected of his princely nature, they said. The Tinleys, of Bloxholme, worshipped him for his wealth; the ladies of Brookfield assured their friends that the fact of his being a money-maker was redeemed in their sight by his devotion to music. Music was now the Art in the ascendant at Brookfield. The ladies (for it is as well to know at once that they were not of that poor order of women who yield their admiration to a thing for its abstract virtue only) the ladies were scaling society by the help of the Arts. To this laudable end sacrifices were now made to Euterpe to assist them. As mere daughters of a merchant, they were compelled to make their house not simply attrac- tive, but enticing; and, seeing that they liked music, it seemed a very agreeable device. The Tinleys of Bloxholme still kept to dancing, and had effectually driven away Mr. Pericles from their gatherings. For Mr. Pericles said : "If that they will go 'so,' I will be amused." He pre- sented a top-like triangular appearance for one staggering second. The Tinleys did not go 'so' at all, and conse- quently they lost the satirical man, and were called " the ballet-dancers" by Adela: which thorny scoff her sisters permitted to pass about for a single day, and no more. The Tinleys were their match at epithets, and any low con- tention of this kind obscured for them the social summit they hoped to attain; the dream whereof was their prime nourishment. That the Tinleys really were their match, they acknow- ledged, upon the admission of the despicable nature of the game. The Tinleys had winged a dreadful shaft at them ; not in itself to be dreaded, but that it struck a weak point; it was a common shot that exploded a magazine ; and for a time it quite upset their social policy, causing them to act like simple young ladies who feel things and resent them. The ladies of Brookfield had let it be known that, in their privacy together, they were Pole, Polar, and North Pole. Pole, Polar, and North Pole were designations of the three shades of distance which they could convey in a bow: a form of salute they cherished as peculiarly their own ; being a method they had invented to rebuke the intrusiveness of THE POLES PRELUDE 3 the outer world, and hold away all strangers until approved worthy. Even friends had occasionally to submit to it in a softened form. Arabella, the eldest, and Adela, the youngest, alternated Pole and Polar; but North Pole was shared by Cornelia with none. She was the fairest of the three ; a nobly -built person ; her eyes not vacant of tender- ness when she put off her armour. In her war-panoply before unhappy strangers, she was a Britomart. They bowed to an iceberg, which replied to them with the freez- ing indifference of the floating colossus, when the Winter sun despatches a feeble greeting messenger-beam from his miserable Arctic wallet. The simile must be accepted in its might, for no lesser one will express the scornfulness toward men displayed by this strikingly well-favoured, formal lady, whose heart of hearts demanded for her as spouse, a lord, a philosopher, and a Christian, in one : and he must be a member of Parliament. Hence her isolated air. Now, when the ladies of Brookfield heard that their Pole, Polar, and North Pole, the splendid image of themselves, had been transformed by the Tinleys, and defiled by them to Pole, Polony, and Maypole, they should have laughed contemptuously ; but the terrible nerve of ridicule quivered in witness against them, and was not to be stilled. They could not understand why so coarse a thing should affect them. It stuck in their flesh. It gave them the idea that they saw their features hideous, but real, in a magnifying mirror. There was therefore a feud between the Tinleys and the Poles ; and when Mr. Pericles entirely gave up the former, the latter rewarded him by spreading abroad every possible kind interpretation of his atrocious bad manners. He was a Greek, of Parisian gilding, whose Parisian hat flew off at a moment's notice, and whose savage snarl was heard at the slightest vexation. His talk of renowned prime-donne by their Christian names, and the way that he would catalogue emperors, statesmen, and noblemen known to him, with a familiar indifference, as things below the musical Art, gave a distinguishing tone to Brookfield, from which his French accentuation of our tongue did not detract. Mr. Pericles grimaced bitterly at any claim to excellence being set up for the mysterious roice in the woods. Tap- 4 EMILIA IN ENGLAND ping one forefinger on the uplifted point of the other, he observed that to sing abroad in the night air of an English Spring month was conclusive of imbecility; and that no imbecile sang at all. Because, to sing, involved the high- est accomplishment of which the human spirit could boast. Did the ladies see? he asked. They thought they saw that he carried on a deception admirably. In return, they in- quired whether he would come with them and hunt the voice, saying that they would catch it for him. " I shall catch a cold for myself, " said Mr. Pericles, from the eleva- tion of a shrug, feeling that he was doomed to go forth. He acted reluctance so well that the ladies affected a pretty irnperiousness ; and when at last he consented to join the party, they thanked him with a nicely simulated warmth, believing that they had pleased him thoroughly. Their brother Wilfrid was at Brookfield. Six months earlier he had returned from India, an invalided cornet of light cavalry, with a reputation for military dash and the prospect of a medal. Then he was their heroic brother: he was now their guard. They loved him tenderly, and admired him when it was necessary ; but they had exhausted their own sensations concerning his deeds of arms, and fan- cied that he had served their purpose. And besides, valour is not an intellectual quality, they said. They were ladies so aspiring, these daughters of the merchant Samuel Bolton Pole, that, if Napoleon had been their brother, their imagi- nations would have overtopped him after his six months' inaction in the Tuileries. They would by that time have made a stepping-stone of the emperor. 'Mounting ' was the title given to this proceeding. They went on perpetually mounting. It is still a good way from the head of the tall- est of men to the stars ; so they had their work before them ; but, as they observed, they were young. To be brief, they were very ambitious damsels, aiming at they knew not exactly what, save that it was something so wide that it had not a name, and so high in the air that no one could see it. They knew assuredly that their circle did not please them. So, therefore, they were constantly extending and refining it : extending it perhaps for the purpose of refining it. Their susceptibilities demanded that they should escape from a city circle. Having no mother, they ruled their THE POLES PRELUDE 5 father's house and him, and were at least commanders of whatsoever forces they could summon for the task. It may be seen that they were sentimentalists. That is to say, they supposed that they enjoyed exclusive posses- sion of the Nice Feelings, and exclusively comprehended the Fine Shades. Whereof more will be said; but in the meantime it will explain their propensity to mount ; it will account for their irritation at the material obstructions sur- rounding them ; and possibly the philosopher will now have his eye on the source of that extraordinary sense of superior- ity to mankind which was the crown of their complacent brows. Eclipsed as they may be in the gross appreciation of the world by other people, who excel in this and that accomplishment, persons that nourish Nice Feelings and are intimate with the Fine Shades carry their own test of intrinsic value. Nor let the philosopher venture hastily to despise them as pipers to dilettante life. Such persons come to us in the order of civilization. In their way they help to civilize us. Sentimentalists are a perfectly natural growth of a fat soil. Wealthy communities must engender them. If with attentive minds we mark the origin of classes, we shall dis- cern that the Nice Feelings and the Fine Shades play a principal part in our human development and social history. I dare not say that civilized man is to be studied with the eye of a naturalist; but my vulgar meaning might almost be twisted to convey that our sentimentalists are a variety owing their existence to a certain prolonged term of com- fortable feeding. The pig, it will be retorted, passes like- wise through this training. He does. But in him it is not combined with an indigestion of high German romances. Here is so notable a difference, that he cannot possibly be said to be of the family. And I maintain it against him, who have nevertheless listened attentively to the eulogies pronounced by the vendors of prize bacon. After thus stating to you the vast pretensions of the ladies of Brookfield, it would be unfair to sketch their portraits. Nothing but comedy bordering on burlesque could issue from the contrast, though they graced a drawing-room or a pew, and had properly elegant habits and taste in dress, and were all fair to the sight. Moreover, Adela had not long 6 EMILIA IN KNQLAND quitted school. Outwardly they were not unlike other young ladies with wits alert. They were at the commence- ment of their labours on this night of the expedition when they were fated to meet something greatly confusing to them. CHAPTER II THE EXPEDITION BY MOONLIGHT HALF of a rosy mounting full moon was on the verge of the East as the ladies, with attendant cavaliers, passed, humming softly, through the garden-gates. Arabella had, by right of birth, made claim to Mr. Pericles : not without an unwontedly fretful remonstrance from Cornelia, who said, " My dear, you must allow that I have some talent for draw- ing men out." And Arabella replied: "Certainly, dear, you have; and I think I have some too." The gentle altercation lasted half-an-hour, but they got no farther than this. Mr. Pericles was either hopeless of protecting himself from such shrewd assailants, or indiffer- ent to their attacks, for all his defensive measures were against the cold. He was muffled in a superbly-mounted bearskin, which came up so closely about his ears that Arabella had to repeat to him all her questions, and as it were force a way for her voice through the hide. This was provoking, since it not only stemmed the natural flow of conversation, but prevented her imagination from decorat- ing the reminiscence of it subsequently (which was her pro- found secret pleasure), besides letting in the outer world upon her. Take it as an axiom, when you utter a senti- mentalism, that more than one pair of ears makes a cynical critic. A sentimentalism requires secresy. I can enjoy it, and shall treat it respectfully if you will confide it to me alone ; but I and my friends must laugh at it outright. "Does there not seem a soul in the moonlight?" for instance. Arabella, after a rapturous glance at the rosy orb, put it to Mr. Pericles, in subdued impressive tones. THE EXPEDITION BY MOONLIGHT T She had to repeat her phrase ; Mr. Pericles then echoing, with provoking monotony of tone, "Sol?" whereupon " Soul ! " was reiterated, somewhat sharply : and Mr. Peri- cles, peering over the collar of the bear, with half an eye, continued the sentence, in the manner of one sent thereby farther from its meaning: "Ze moonlight?" Despair- ing and exasperated, Arabella commenced afresh : " I said, there seems a soul in it; " and Mr. Pericles assented bluntly : " In ze light ! " which sounded so little satisfactory that Arabella explained, "I mean the aspect;" and having said three times distinctly what she meant, in answer to a ter- rific glare from the unsubmerged whites of the eyes of Mr. Pericles, this was his comment, almost roared forth : "Sol! you say so-whole in ze moonlight Luna? Hein? Ze aspect is of Sol! Yez." And Mr. Pericles sank into his bear again, while Wilfrid Pole, who was swinging his long cavalry legs to rearward, shouted ; and Mr. Sumner, a rising young barrister, walking beside Cornelia, smiled a smile of extreme rigidity. Ara- bella was punished for claiming rights of birth. She heard the murmuring course of the dialogue between Cornelia and Mr. Sumner, sufficiently clear to tell her it was not fictitious and was well sustained, while her heart was kept thirsting for the key to it. In advance were Adela and Edward Buxley, who was only a rich alderman's only son, but had the virtue of an extraordinary power of drawing caricatures, and was therefore useful in exaggerating the features of disagreeable people, and showing how odious they were: besides endearing pleasant ones by exhibiting how comic they could be. Gossips averred that before Mr. Pole had been worried by his daughters into giving that mighty sum for Brookfield, Arabella had accepted Edward as her suitor ; but for some reason or other he had apparently fallen from his high estate. To tell the truth, Arabella conceived that he had simply obeyed her wishes, while he knew he was naughtily following his own ; and Adela, without introspec- tion at all, was making her virgin effort at the caricaturing of our sex in his person: an art for which she promised well. Out of the long black shadows of the solitary trees of the park, and through low yellow moonlight, they passed sud- g EMILIA IN ENGLAND denly into the muffled ways of the wood. Mr. Pericles was ineffably provoking. He had come for gallantry's sake, and was not to be rallied, and would echo every question in a roar, and there was no drawing of the man out at all. He knocked against branches, and tripped over stumps, and ejaculated with energy; but though he gave no need or help to his fair associate, she thought not the worse of him, so heroic can women be toward any creature that will permit himself to be clothed by a mystery. At times the party hung still, fancying the voice aloft, and tnen, after listen- ing to the unrelieved stillness, they laughed, and trod the stiff dry ferns and soft mosses once more. At last they came to a decided halt, when the proposition to return caused Adela to come up to Mr. Pericles and say to him, " Now, you must confess ! You have prohibited her from singing to-night so that we may continue to be mystified. I call this quite shameful of you! " And even as Mr. Pericles was protesting that he was the most mystified of the company, his neck lengthened, and his head went round, and his ear was turned to the sky, while he breathed an elaborate " Ah ! " And sure enougn that was the voice of the woods, cleaving the night air, not distant. A sleepy fire of early moonlight hung through the dusky fir-branches. The voice had the woods to itself, and seemed to fill them and soar over them, it was so full and rich, so light and sweet. And now, to add to the mar- vel, they heard a harp accompaniment, the strings being faintly touched, but with firm fingers. A woman's voice: on that could be no dispute. Tell me, what opens heaven more flamingly to heart and mind, than the voice of woman, pouring clear accordant notes to the blue night sky, that grows light blue to the moon? There was no flourish in her singing. All the notes were firm, and rounded, and sovereignly distinct. She seemed to have caught the ear of Night, and sang confident of her charm. It was a grand old Italian air, requiring severity of tone and power. Now into great mournful hollows the voice sank steadfastly. One oft sweep of the strings succeeded a deep final note, and the hearers breathed freely. "Stradella! " said the Greek, folding his arms. The ladies were too deeply impressed to pursue their play THE EXPEDITION BY MOONLIGHT & with him. Real emotions at once set aside the semi-credence^ they had given to their own suggestions. "Hush! she will sing again," whispered Adela. "It is the most delicious contralto." Murmurs of objection to the voice being characterized at all by any technical word, or even for a human quality, were heard. "Let me find zis woman!" cried the prose enthusiast Mr. Pericles, imperiously, with his bearskin thrown back on his shoulders, and forth they stepped, following him. In the middle of the wood there was a sandy mound, ris- ing half the height of the lesser firs, bounded by a green- grown vallum, where once an old woman, hopelessly a witch, had squatted, and defied the authorities to make her budge : nor could they accomplish the task before her witch- soul had taken wing in the form of a black night-bird, often to be heard jarring above the spot. Lank dry weeds and nettles, and great lumps of green and grey moss, now stood on the poor old creature's place of habitation, and the moon, slanting through the fir-clumps, was scattered on the blos- soms of twisted orchard-trees, gone wild again. Amid this desolation, a dwarfed pine, whose roots were partially bared as they grasped the broken bank that was its perch, threw far out a cedar-like hand. In the shadow of it sat the fair singer. A musing touch of her harp-strings drew the in- truders to the charmed circle, though they could discern nothing save the glimmer of the instrument and one set of fingers caressing it. How she viewed their rather imperti- nent advance toward her, till they had ranged in a half -circle nearer and nearer, could not be guessed. She did not seem abashed in any way, for, having preluded, she threw herself into another song. The charm was now more human, though scarcely less powerful. This was a different song from the last : it was not the sculptured music of the old school, but had the rich- ness and fulness of passionate blood that marks the modern Italian, where there is much dallying with beauty in the thick of sweet anguish. Here, at a certain passage of the song, she gathered herself up and pitched a nervous note, so shrewdly triumphing, that, as her voice sank to rest, her hearers could not restrain a deep murmur of admiration. Then came an awkward moment. The ladies did not 10 EMILIA IN ENGLAND wish to go, and they were not justified in stopping. They were anxious to speak, and they could not choose the word to utter. Mr. Pericles relieved them by moving forward and doffing his hat, at the same time begging excuse for the rudeness they were guilty of. The fair singer answered, with the quickness that showed a girl : " Oh, stay ; do stay, if I please you ! " A singular form of speech, it was thought by the ladies. She added : " I feel that I sing better when I have people J listen to me." " You find it more sympathetic, do you not ? " remarked Cornelia. "I don't know," responded the unknown, with a very honest smile. " I like it." She was evidently uneducated. " A professional ? " whis- pered Adela to Arabella. She wanted little invitation to exhibit her skill, at all events, for, at a word, the clear, bold, but finely nervous voice was pealing to a brisker meas- ure, that would have been joyous but for one fall it had, coming unexpectedly, without harshness, and winding up the song in a ringing melancholy. After a few bars had been sung, Mr. Pericles was seen tapping his forehead perplexedly. The moment it ended, he cried out, in a tone of vexed apology for strange igno- rance : " But I know not it? It is Italian yes, I swear it is Italian ! But who then ? It is superbe ! But I know not it ! " " It is mine," said the young person. " Your music, miss ? " " I mean, I composed it." " Permit me to say, Brava ! " The ladies instantly petitioned to have it sung to them again ; and whether or not they thought more of it, or less, now that the authorship was known to them, they were louder in their applause, which seemed to make the little person very happy. " You are sure it pleases you ? " she exclaimed. They were very sure it pleased them. Somehow the ladies were growing gracious toward her, from having previously felt too humble, it may be. She was girlish in her manner, and not imposing in her figure. She would be a sweet mya- THE EXPEDITION BY MOONLIGHT il tery to talk about, they thought : but she had ceased to be quite the same mystery to them. " I would go on singing to you," she said ; " I could sing all night long : but my people at the farm will not keep supper for me, when it's late, and I shall have to go hungry to bed, if I wait." " Have you far to go ? " ventured Adela. " Only to Wilson's farm ; about ten minutes' walk through the wood," she answered unhesitatingly. Arabella wished to know whether she came frequently to this lovely spot. " When it does not rain, every evening," was the reply. " You feel that the place inspires you ? " said Cornelia. " I am obliged to come," she explained. " The good old dame at the farm is ill, and she says that music all day is enough for her, and I must come here, or I should get no chance of playing at all at night." " But surely you feel an inspiration in the place, do you not ? " Cornelia persisted. She looked at this lady as if she had got a hard word given her to crack, and muttered: "I feel it quite warm here. And I do begin to love the place." ' The stately Cornelia fell back a step. The moon was now a silver ball on the edge of the circle of grey blue above the ring of firs, and by the light falling on the strange little person, as she stood out of the shadow to muffle up her harp, it could be seen that she was simply clad, and that her bonnet was not of the newest fashion. The sisters remarked a boot-lace hanging loose. The pecul- iar black lustre of her hair, and thickness of her long black eyebrows, struck them likewise. Her harp being now com- fortably mantled, Cornet Wilfrid Pole, who had been watch- ing her and balancing repeatedly on his forward foot, made a stride, and " really could not allow her to carry it herself," 1 and begged her permission that he might assist her. " It's very heavy, you know," he added. " Too heavy for me," she said, favouring him with a thank- ful smile. " I have some one who does that. Where is Jim ? " She called for Jim, and from the back of the sandy hillock, where he had been reclining, a broad-shouldered rustic came lurching round to them. 12 EMILIA IN ENGLAND "Now, tafce my harp, if you please, and be as careful as possible of branches, and don't stumble." She uttered this as if she were giving Jiin his evening lesson : and then with a sudden cry she laughed out : " Oh ! but I haven't played you your tune, and you must have your tune ! " Forthwith she stript the harp half bare, and throwing a propitiatory bright glance at her audience on the other side of her, she commenced thrumming a kind of Giles Scroggins, native British, beer-begotten air, while Jim smeared his mouth and grinned, as one who sees his love dragged into public view, and is not the man to be ashamed of her, though he hopes you will hardly put him to the trial. " This is his favourite tune, that he taught me," she em- phasized to the company. " I play to him every night, for a finish ; and then he takes care not to knock my poor harp to pieces and tumble about." The gentlemen were amused by the Giles Scroggins air, which she had delivered with a sufficient sense of its lumping fun and leg-for-leg jollity, and they laughed and applauded; but the ladies were silent after the performance, until the moment came to thank her for the entertainment she had afforded them : and then they broke into gentle smiles, and trusted they might have the pleasure of hearing her another night "Oh! just as often and as much as you like," she said, and first held her hand to Arabella, next to Cornelia, and then to Adela. She seemed to be hesitating before the gentlemen^ and when Wilfrid raised his hat, she was put to some confusion, and bowed rather awkwardly, and retired. " Good night, miss ! " called Mr. Pericles. " Good night, sir ! " she answered from a little distance, and they could see that she was there emboldened to drop a proper curtsey in accompaniment. Then the ladies stood together and talked of her, not with absolute enthusiasm. For, "Was it not divine?" said Adela ; and Cornelia asked her if she meant the last piece ; and, "Oh, gracious! not that!" Adela exclaimed. And then it was discovered how their common observation had fastened on the boot-lace ; and this vagrant article became the key to certain speculations on her condition and char- acter WILFRID'S DIPLOMACY 13 "I wish I'd had a dozen bouquets, that's all!" cried Wilfrid. " She deserved them." " Has she sentiment for what she sings ? or is it only faculty ? " " Cornelia put it to Mr. Sumner. That gentleman faintly defended the stranger for the in- trusion of the bumpkin tune. " She did it so well ! " he said. " I complain that she did it too well," uttered Cornelia, whose use of emphasis customarily implied that the argu- ment remained with her. Talking in this manner, and leisurely marching home- ward, they were startled to hear Mr. Pericles, who had wrapped himself impenetrably in the bear, burst from his cogitation suddenly to cry out, in his harshest foreign accent : " Yeaz ! " And thereupon he threw open the folds^ and laid out a forefinger, and delivered himself: "I am made my mind ! I send her abroad to ze Academic for one, two, tree year. She shall be instructed as was not before. Zen a noise at La Scala. No Paris! No London f She shall astonish London f airst. Yez ! if I take a thea- tre! Yez! if I buy a newspaper! Yez! if I pay feefty- sossand pound ! " His singular outlandish vehemence, and the sweeping grandeur of a determination that lightly assumed the cor- ruptibility of our Press, sent a smile circling among the ladies and gentlemen. The youth who had wished to throw the fair unknown a dozen bouquets, caught himself frown- ing at this brilliant prospect for her, which was to give him his opportunity. CHAPTER III WILFRID'S DIPLOMACY THE next morning there were many " tra-las " and " tum- te-tums " over the family breakfast-table ; a constant hum- ming and crying, "I have it; " and after two or three bars, baffled pauses and confusion of mind. Mr. Pericles was almost abusive at the impotent efforts of the sisters to revive 14 EMILIA IN ENGLAND in his memory that particular delicious melody, the compo- sition of the fair singer herself. At last he grew so impatient as to arrest their opening notes, and even to interrupt their unmusical consultations, with t "No: it is no use; it is no use: no, no, I say!" But instantly he would plunge his forehead into the palm of his hand, and rub it red, and work his eye-brows frightfully, until tender humanity led the sis- ters to resume. Adela's : " I'm sure it began low down turn! " Cornelia's : " The key-note, I am positive, was B flat ta! " and Arabella's putting of these two assertions to- gether, and promise to combine them at the piano when breakfast was at an end, though it was Sunday morning, were exasperating to the exquisite lover of music. Mr. Pericles was really suffering torments. Do you know what it is to pursue the sylph, and touch her flying skirts, think you have caught her, and are sure of her that she is yours, the rapturous evanescent darling! when some well-meaning earthly wretch interposes and trips you, and off she flies and leaves you floundering? A lovely melody nearly grasped and lost in this fashion, tries the temper. Apollo chasing Daphne could have been barely polite to the wood-nymphs in his path, and Mr. Pericles was rude to the daughters of his host. Smoothing his clean square chin and thick moustache hastily, with outspread thumb and fingers, he implored them to spare his nerves. Smiling rigidly, he trusted they would be merciful to a sensitive ear. Mr. Pole who, as an Englishman, could not understand anyone being so serious in the pursuit of a tune laughed, and asked questions, and almost drove Mr. Pericles mad. On a, sudden the Greek's sallow visage lightened. " It is to you ! it is to you ! " he cried, stretching his finger at Wil- frid. The young officer, having apparently waited till he had finished with his knife and fork, was leaning his cheek on his fist, looking at nobody, and quietly humming a part of the air. Mr. Pericles complimented and thanked him. " But you have ear for music extraordinaire ! " he said. Adela patted her brother fondly, remarking " Yes, when his feelings are concerned." " Will you repeat zat? " asked the Greek. " ' To-to-ri: ' hein? I lose it. 'To-to-ru:' bah! I lose it; 'To-ri; to- ro- -ri- -ro: ' it is no use: I lose it." WILFRID'S DIPLOMACY 15 Neither his persuasions, nor his sneer, "Because it is Sunday, perhaps ! " would induce Wilfrid to be guilty of another attempt. The ladies tried sisterly cajoleries on him fruitlessly, until Mr. Pole, seeing the desperation of his guest, said : " Why not have her up here, toon and all, some weekday? Sunday birds won't suit us, you know. We've got a piano for her that's good enough for the first of 'em, if money means anything." The ladies murmured meekly: "Yes, papa." "I shall find her for you while you go to your charch," said Mr. Pericles. And here Wilfrid was seized with a yawn, and rose, and asked his eldest sister if she meant to attend the service that morning. "Undoubtedly," she answered; and Mr. Pole took it up: " That's our discipline, my boy. Must set an example : do our duty. All the house goes to worship in the country." "Why, in ze country?" queried Mr. Pericles. " Because " Cornelia came to the rescue of her sire ; but her impetuosity was either unsupported by a reason, or she stooped to fit one to the comprehension of the interrogator : " Oh, because do you know, we have very select music at our church?" "We have a highly-paid organist," added Arabella. "Recently elected," said Adela. " Ah ! mon Dieu ! " Mr. Pericles ejaculated. " Some music sound well at afar mellow, you say. I prefer your charch music mellow." " Won't you come? " cried Wilfrid, with wonderful brisk- ness. "No. Mellow for me!" The Greek's grinders flashed, and Wilfrid turned off from him sulkily. He saw in fancy the robber-Greek prowling about Wilson's farm, setting snares for the marvellous night-bird, and it was with more than his customary inat- tention to his sisters' refined conversation that he formed part of their male escort to the place of worship. Mr. Pericles met the church-goers on their return in one of the green bowery lanes leading up to Brookfield. Cold as he was to English scenes and sentiments, his alien ideas were not unimpressed by the picture of those daintily-clad young women demurely stepping homeward, while the air 16 EMILIA IN ENGLAND held a revel of skylarks, and the scented hedge-ways quick- ened with sunshine. "You have missed a treat! " Arabella greeted him. "A sermon?" said he. The ladies would not tell him, until his complacent cyni- cism at the notion of his having missed a sermon, spurred them to reveal that the organ had been handled in a mas- terly manner; and that the voluntary played at the close of the service was most exquisite. "Even papa was in raptures." "Very good indeed," said Mr. Pole. "I'm no judge; but you might listen to that sort of playing after dinner." Mr. Pericles seemed to think that Vas scarcely a critical period, but he merely grimaced, and inquired: "Did you see ze player? " "Oh, no: they are hidden," Arabella explained to him, "behind a curtain." "But, what!" shouted the impetuous Greek: "have you no curiosity? A woman! And zen, you saw not her?" "No," remarked Cornelia, in the same aggravating sing- song voice of utter indifference : " we don't know whether it was not a man. Our usual organist is a man, I believe." The eyes of the Greek whitened savagely, and he relapsed into frigid politeness. Wilfrid was not present to point their apprehensions. He had loitered behind; but when he joined them in the house subsequently, he was cheerful, and had a look of tri- umph about him which made his sisters say, " So, you have been with the Copleys : " and he allowed them to suppose it, if they pleased ; the Copleys being young ladies of position in the neighbourhood, of much higher standing than the Tinleys, who, though very wealthy, could not have given their brother such an air, the sisters imagined. At lunch, Wilfrid remarked carelessly : " By the way, I met that little girl we saw last night." "The singer! where?" asked his sisters, with one voice. "Coming out of church." 41 She goes to church, then! " This exclamation showed the heathen they took her to be. " Why, she played the organ," said Wilfrid. *' A.nd how does she look by day? How does she dress? " WILFRID'S DIPLOMACY 17 "Oh! very jolly little woman! Dresses quiet enough." " She played the organ ! It was she, then ! An organist ! Is there anything approaching to gentility in her appear- ance?" "I really I'm no judge," said Wilfrid. "You had better ask Laura Tinley. She was talking to her when I went up." The sisters exchanged looks. Presently they stood to- gether in consultation. Then they spoke with their aunt, Mrs. Lupin, and went to their papa. The rapacity of those Tinleys for anything extraordinary was known to them, but they would not have conceived that their own discovery, their own treasure, could have been caught up so quickly. If the Tinleys got possession of her, the defection of Mr. Pericles might be counted on, and the display of a phe- nomenon would be lost to them. They decided to go down to Wilson's farm that very day, and forestall their rivals by having her up to Brookfield. The idea of doing this had been in a corner of their minds all the morning: it seemed now the most sensible plan in the world. It was patronage, in its right sense. And they might be of great service to her, by giving a proper elevation and tone to her genius ; while she might amuse them, and their guests, and be let off, in fact, as a firework for the nonce. Among the queenly cases of women who are designing to become the heads of a circle (if I may use the term), an accurate admeasurement of reciprocal advantages can scarcely be expected to rank; but the knowledge that an act, depend- ing upon us for execution, is capable of benefiting both sides, will make the proceeding appear so unselfish, that its wisdom is overlooked as well as its motives. The sis- ters felt they were the patronesses of the little obscure genius whom they longed for to illumine their household, before they knew her name. Cornet Wilfrid Pole must h?.ve chuckled mightily to see them depart on their mis- sion. These ladies, who managed everybody, had them- selves been very cleverly managed. It is doubtful whether the scheme to surprise and delight Mr. Pericles would have actuated the step they took, but for the dread of seeing the rapacious Tinleys snatch up their lawful prey. The Tin- leys were known to be_guite capable of doing so. They 18 EMILIA IN ENGLAND had, on a particular occasion, made transparent overtures to a celebrity belonging to the Poles, whom they had first met at Brookfield : could never have hoped to have seen had they not met him at Brookfield; and girls who behaved in this way would do anything. The resolution was taken to steal a march on them ; nor did it seem at all odd to peo- ple naturally so hospitable as the denizens of Brookfield, that the stranger of yesterday should be the guest of to-day. Kindness of heart, combined with a great scheme in the brain, easily put aside conventional rules. "But we don't know her name," they said, when they had taken the advice of the gentlemen on what they had already decided to do : all excepting Mr. Pericles, for whom the surprise was in store. "Belloni Miss Belloni," said Wilfrid. " Are you sure ? How do you know ? " " She told Laura Tinley." Within five minutes of the receipt of this intelligence the ladies were on their way to Wilson's farm. CHAPTER IV EMILIA'S FIRST TRIAL IN PUBLIC THE circle which the ladies of Brookfield were designing to establish just now, was of this receipt: Celebrities, London residents, and County notables, all in their sever- ally due proportions, were to meet, mix, and revolve : the Celebrities to shine ; the Metropolitans to act as satellites ; the County ignoramuses to feel flattered in knowing that all stood forth for their amusement: they being the butts of the quick-witted Metropolitans, whom they despised, while the sons of renown were encouraged to be conscious of their magnanimous superiority over both sets, for whose enter- tainment they were ticketed. This is a pudding indeed ! And the contemplation of the skill and energy required to get together and compound such a Brookfield Pudding, well-nigh leads one to think the work EMILIA'S FIRST TRIAL IN PUBLIC 19 that is done out of doors a very inferior business, and, as it were, mere gathering of fuel for the fire inside. It was known in the neighbourhood that the ladies were preparing one ; and moreover that they had a new kind of plum ; in other words, that they intended to exhibit a prodigy of genius, who would flow upon the world from Brookfield. To announce her with the invitations, rejecting the idea of a surprise in the assembly, had been necessary, because there was no other way of securing Lady Gosstre, who led the society of the district. The great lady gave her promise to attend : " though," as she said to Arabella, " you must know I abominate musical parties, and think them the most absurd of entertainments possible; but if you have any- thing to show, that's another matter." Two or three chosen friends were invited down before- hand to inspect the strange girl, and say what they thought of her; for the ladies themselves were perplexed. They had found her to be commonplace : a creature without ideas and with a decided appetite. So when Tracy Kunning- brook, who had also been a plum in his day, and was still a poet, said that she was exquisitely comic, they were induced to take the humorous view of the inexplicable side in the character of Miss Belloni, and tried to laugh at her eccen- tricities. Seeing that Mr. Pericles approved of her voice as a singer, and Tracy Runningbrook let pass her behaviour as a girl, they conceived that on the whole they were safe in sounding a trumpet loudly. These gentlemen were connois- seurs, each in his walk. Concerning her position and parentage, nothing was known. She had met Adela's delicately-searching touches in that direction with a marked reserve. It was impossible to ask her point-blank, after probing her with a dozen sug- gestions, for the ingenuousness of an indifferent inquiry could not then be assumed, so that Adela was constantly baffled and felt that she must some day be excessively ' fond with her,' which was annoying. The girl lit up at any sign of affection. A kind look gave Summer depths to her dark eyes. Otherwise she maintained a simple discretion and walked in her own path, content to look quietly pleased on everybody, as one who had plenty to think of and a voice in her ear. 20 EMILIA IN ENGLAND Apparently she was not to be taught to understand 'limits': which must be explained as a sort of magnetic submissiveness to the variations of Polar caprice ; so that she should move about with ease, be cheerful, friendly, and, at a signal, affectionate ; still not failing to recognize the particular nooks where the family chalk had traced a line. As the day of exhibition approached, Adela thought she would give her a lesson in limits. She ventured to bestow a small caress on the girl, after a compliment; thinking that the compliment would be a check : but the compliment was passed, and the caress instantly replied to with two arms and a tender mouth. At which, Adela took fright ind was glad to slip away. At last the pudding flowed into the bag. Emilia was posted by the ladies in a corner of the room. Receiving her assurance that she was not hungry, they felt satisfied that she wanted nothing. Wilfrid came up to her to console her for her loneliness, until Mr. Pericles had stationed himself at the back of her chair, and then Wilfrid nodded languidly and attended to his graver duties. Who would have imagined that she had hurt him ? But she cer- tainly looked with greater animation on Mr. Pericles ; and when Tracy Runningbrook sat down by her, a perfect little carol of chatter sprang up between them. These two pre- sented such a noticeable contrast, side by side, that the ladies had to send a message to separate them. She was perhaps a little the taller of the two ; with smoothed hair that had the gloss of black briony leaves, and eyes like burning brands in a cave ; while Tracy's hair was red as blown flame, with eyes of a grey-green hue, that may be seen glistening over wet sunset. People, who knew him, asked: "Who is she ?" and it was not in the design of the ladies to have her noted just yet. Lady Gosstre's exclamation on entering the room was presently heard. " Well ! and where's our extraordinary genius ? Pray, let me see her immediately." Thereat Laura Tinley, with gross ill-breeding, rushed up to Arabella, who was receiving her ladyship, and touching her arm, as if privileges were permitted her, iried : " I'm dying to see her. Has she come ? " Arabella embraced the offensive girl in a hostess's smile, and talked flowingly to the great lady. EMILIA'S FIRST TRIAL IN PUBLIC 21 Laura Tinley was punished by being requested to lead off with a favourite song in a buzz. She acceded, quite aware of the honour intended, and sat at the piano, taming as much as possible her pantomime of one that would be audi- ble. Lady Gosstre scanned the room, while Adela, follow- ing her ladyship's eyeglass, named the guests. " You get together a quaint set of men," said Lady Gosstre. " Women ! " was on Adela's tongue's tip. She had really thought well of her men. Her heart sank. " In the country ! " she began. " Yes, yes ! " went my lady. These were the lessons that made the ladies of Brookfield put a check upon youth's tendency to feel delightful satis- faction with its immediate work, and speedily conceive a discontented suspicion of anything whatsoever that served them. Two other sacrifices were offered at the piano after Laura Tinley. Poor victims of ambition, they arranged their dresses, smiled at the leaves, and deliberately gave utter- ance to the dreadful nonsense of the laureates of our draw- ing-rooms. Mr. Pericles and Emilia exchanged scientific glances during the performance. She was merciless to in- different music. Wilfrid saw the glances pass. So, now, when Emilia was beckoned to the piano, she passed by Wilfrid, and had a cold look in return for beaming eyes. According to directions, Emilia sang a simple Neapolitan air. The singer was unknown, and was generally taken for another sacrifice. "Come; that's rather pretty," Lady Gosstre hailed the close. " It is of ze people such as zat," assented Mr. Pericles. Adela heard my lady ask for the singer's name. She made her way to her sisters. Adela was ordinarily the promoter, Cornelia the sifter, and Arabella the director, of schemes in this management. The ladies had a moment for counsel over a music-book, for Arabella was about to do duty at the piano. During a pause, Mr. Pole lifting his white waistcoat with the effort, sent a word abroad, loudly and heartily, re- gardless of its guardian aspirate, like a bold-faced hoyden flying from her chaperon. They had dreaded it. They loved their father, but declined to think his grammar parental. 22 EMILIA IN ENGLAND Hushing together, they agreed that it had been a false move to invite Lady Gosstre, who did not care a bit for music, un- til the success of their Genius was assured by persons who did. To suppose that she would recognize a Genius, failing a special introduction, was absurd. The ladies could turn upon aristocracy too, when it suited them. Arabella had now to go through a quartett. The fever of ill-luck had seized the violin. He would not tune. Then his string broke ; and while he was arranging it the footman came up to Arabella. Misfortunes, we know, are the most united family on earth. The news brought to her was that a lady of the name of Mrs. Chump was below. Holding her features rigidly bound, not to betray perturbation, Arabella confided the fact to Cornelia, who, with a similar mental and muscular compression, said instantly, " Manoeuvre her." Adela remarked, " If you tell her the company is grand, she will come, and her Irish once heard here will destroy us. The very name of Chump ! " Mrs. Chump was the wealthy Irish widow of an alderman, whose unaccountable bad taste in going to Ireland for a wife, yet filled the ladies with astonishment. She pretended to be in difficulties with her lawyers ; for which reason she strove to be perpetually in consultation with her old flame and pres- ent trustee Mr. Pole. The ladies had fought against her in London, and since their installation at Brookfield they had announced to their father that she was not to be endured there. Mr. Pole had plaintively attempted to dilate on the virtues of Martha Chump. " In her place," said the ladies, and illustrated to him that amid a nosegay of flowers there was no fit room for an exuberant vegetable. The old man had sighed and seemed to surrender. One thing was cer- tain : Mrs. Chump had never been seen at Brookfield. " She never shall be, save by the servants," said the ladies. Emilia, not unmarked of Mr. Pericles, had gone over to Wilfrid once or twice, to ask him if haply he disapproved of anything she had done. Mr. Pericles shrugged, and went " Ah ! " as who should say, " This must be stopped." Adela now came to her and caught her hand, showering sweet whispers on her, and bidding her go to her harp and do her best. " We love you ; we all love you ! " was her parting instigation. EMILIA PLAYS ON THE COKNET 23 The quartett was abandoned. Arabella had departed with a firm countenance to combat Mrs. Chump. Emilia sat by her harp. The saloon was critically still ; so still that Adela fancied she heard a faint Irish protest from the parlour. Wilfrid was perhaps the most critical auditor present : for he doubted whether she could renew that singular charm of her singing in the pale lighted woods. The first smooth contralto notes took him captive. He scarcely believed that this could be the raw girl whom his sisters delicately pitied. A murmur of plaudits, the low thunder of gathering accla- mation, went round. Lady Gosstre looked a satisfied " This will do." Wilfrid saw Emilia's eyes appeal hopefully to Mr. Pericles. The connoisseur shrugged. A pain lodged visibly on her black eyebrows. She gripped her harp, and her eye- lids appeared to quiver as she took the notes. Again, and still singing, she turned her head to him. The eyes of Mr. Pericles were white, as if upraised to intercede for her with the Powers of Harmony. Her voice grew unnerved. On a sudden she excited herself to pitch and give volume to that note which had been the enchantment of the night in the woods. It quavered. One might have thought her caught by the throat. Emilia gazed at no one now. She rose, without a word or an apology, keeping her eyes down. " Fiasco ! " cruelly cried Mr. Pericles. That was better to her than the silly kindness of the people who deemed it well to encourage her with applause. Emilia could not bear the clapping of hands, and fled. CHAPTER V EMILIA PLAYS ON THE CORNET THE night was warm under a slowly-floating moon. Full of compassion for the poor girl, who had moved him if she had failed in winning the assembly, Wilfrid stepped into the garden, where he expected to find her, and to be the first to 24 EMILIA IN ENGLAND pet and console her. Threading the scented shrubs, he came upon a turn in one of the alleys, from which point he had a view of her figure, as she stood near a Portugal laurel on the lawn. Mr. Pericles was by her side. Wilfrid's in- tention was to join them. A loud sob from Emilia checked his foot. " You are cruel," he heard her say. " If it is good, I tell it you ; if it is bad, abominable, I tell it you, juste ze same," responded Mr. Pericles. " The others did not think it very bad." " Ah ! bah ! " Mr. Pericles cut her short. Had they been talking of matters secret and too sweet, Wilfrid would have retired, like a man of honour. As it was, he continued to listen. The tears of his poor little friend, moreover, seemed to hold him there in the hope that he might afford some help. " Yes ; I do not care for the others," she resumed. " You praised me the night I first saw you." " It is perhaps zat you can sing to z' moon," returned Mr. Pericles. " But, what ! a singer, she must sing in a house. To-night it is warm, to-morrow it is cold. If you sing through a cold, what noise do we hear ? It is a nose, not a voice. It is a trompet." Emilia, with a whimpering firmness, replied : " You said I am lazy. I am not." " Not lazy," Mr. Pericles assented. " Do I care for praise from people who do not understand music ? It is not true. I only like to please them." " Be a street-organ," Mr. Pericles retorted. "I must like to see them pleased when I sing," said Emilia desperately. " And you like ze clap of ze hands. Yez. It is quite nat- ural. Yess. You are a good child, it is clear. But, look. You are a voice uncultivated, sauvage. You go wrong: I hear you: and dese claps of zese noodels send you into squeaks and shrills, and false ! false ! away you go. It is a gallop ze wrong way." Here Mr. Pericles attempted the most horrible reproduc- tion of Emilia's failure. She cried out as if she had been bitten. " What am I to do ? " she asked sadly. EMILIA PLAYS ON THE CORNET 25 "Not now," Mr. Pericles answered. "You live in Lon- don ? at where ?" "Must I tell you?" " Certainly, you must tell me." " But, I am not going there ; I mean, not yet." " You are going to sing to z* moon through z' nose. Yez. For how long?" " These ladies have asked me to stay with them. They make me so happy. When I leave them then ! " Emilia sighed. " And zen ? " quoth Mr. Pericles. " Then, while my money lasts, I shall stay in the country." " How much money ? " " How much money have I ? " Emilia frankly and accu- rately summed up the condition of her treasury. "Four pounds and nineteen shillings." " Horn ! it is spent, and you go to your father again ? " "Yes." "TozeoldBelloni?" "My father." " No ! " cried Mr. Pericles, upon Emilia's melancholy utter- ance. He bent to her ear and rapidly spoke, in an undertone, what seemed to be a vivid sketch of a new course of fortune for her. Emilia gave one joyful outcry ; and now Wilfrid retreated, questioning within himself whether he should have remained so long. But, as he argued, if he was convinced that the rascally Greek fellow meant mischief to her, was he not bound to employ every stratagem to be her safeguard ? The influence of Mr. Pericles already exercised over her was immense and mysterious. Within ten minutes she was sing- ing triumphantly indoors. Wilfrid could hear that her voice was firm and assured. She was singing the song of the woods. He found to his surprise that his heart dropped under some burden, as if he had no longer force to sustain it. By-and-by some of the members of the company issued forth. Carriages were heard on the gravel, and young men in couples, preparing to light the ensign of happy release from the ladies (or of indemnification for their absence, if you please), strolled about the grounds. " Did you see that little passage between Laura Tinley and Bella Pole ? " said one, and forthwith mimicked them : 26 EMILIA IN ENGLAND " Laura commencing : ' We must have her over to us.' 1 1 fear we have pre-engaged her.' ' Oh, but you, dear, will do us the favour to come, too ? ' 'I fear, dear, our imme- diate engagements will preclude the possibility.' 'Surely, dear Miss Pole, we may hope that you have not abandoned U8 f > < That, my dear Miss Tinley, is out of the question.' ith an inexpressibly grotesque commiseration. Do but listen to this one, which is the joint corporate voice of THE RIVAL CLUBS 59 the men of Hillford. Outgeneraled, plundered, turned to ridicule, it thumps with unabated briskness. Here indeed might Sentimentalism shed a fertile tear! Anticipating that it will eventually be hung up among our national symbols, I proceed. The drum of Hillford entered the Brookfield grounds as Ipley had done, and with a similar body of decorated Clubmen; sounding along until it faced the astonished proprietor, who held up his hand and requested to "know the purpose of the visit. One sen- tence of explanation sufficed. " What ! " cried Mr. Pole, " do you think you can milk a cow twice in ten minutes?" Several of the Hillford men acknowledged that it would be rather sharp work. Their case was stated: whereupon Mr. Pole told them that he had just been 'milked, ' and regretted it, but requested them to see that he could not possibly be equal to any second proceeding of the sort. On their turning to consult together, he advised them to bear it with fortitude. " All right, sir ! " they said: and a voice from the ranks informed him that their word was 'Jolly.' Then a signal was given, and these indomitable fellows cheered the lord of Brookfield as lustily as if they had accomplished the feat of milking him twice in an hour. Their lively hurrahs set him blinking in extreme discomposure of spirit, and he was fumbling at his pocket, when the drum a little precipitately thumped : the ranks fell into order, and the departure was led by the tune of the 4 King of the Cannibal islands : ' a tune that is certain to create a chorus on the march. On this occasion, the line : "Oh ! didn't you know you were done, sir?" became general at the winding up of the tune. Boys with their elders frisked as they chimed it, casting an emphasis of infinite relish on the declaration 'done; ' as if they de- lighted in applying it to Mr. Pole, though at their own expense. Soon a verse grew up : " We march'd and call'd on Mister Pole, Who hadn't a penny, upon his soul, For Ipley came and took the whole, And didn't you know you were done, sir 1 " 60 EMILIA IN ENGLAND I need not point out to the sagacious that Hillford and not Mr. Pole had been 'done; ' but this was the genius of the men who transferred the opprobrium to him. Never- theless, though their manner of welcoming misfortune was such, I, knowing that there is not a deadlier animal than a 'done' Briton, have shudders for Ipley. We relinquish the stream of an epic in turning away from these mighty drums. Mr. Pole stood questioning all who surrounded him: "What could I do? I couldn't subscribe to both. They don't expect that of a lord, and I'm a commoner. If these fellows quarrel and split, are we to suffer for it? They can't agree, and want us to pay double fines. This is how they serve us." Mr. Barrett, rather at a loss to account for his excitement, said, that it must be admitted they had borne the trick played on them, with remarkable good humour. " Yes, but," Mr. Pole fumed, " I don't. They put me in the wrong, between them. They make me uncomfortable. I've a good mind to withdraw my subscription to those ras- cals who came first, and have nothing to do with any of them. Then, you see, down I go for a niggardly fellow. That's the reputation I get. Nothing of this in London! you make your money, pay your rates, and nobody bothers a man." " You should have done as our darling here did, papa, " said Adela. " You should have hinted something that might be construed a promise or not, as we please to read it." "If I promise I perform," returned Mr. Pole. " Our Hillford people have cause for complaint," Mr. Bar- rett observed. And to Emilia: "You will hardly favour one party more than another, will you?" "I am for that poor man Jim," said Emilia. "He car- ried my harp evening after evening, and would not even take sixpence for the trouble." "Are you really going to sing there?" " Didn't you hear? I promised." "To-night?" "Yes; certainly." " Do you know what it is you have promised? " "To sing." THE RIVAL CLUBS 61 Adela glided to her sisters near at hand, and these ladies presently hemmed Emilia in. They had a method of treat- ing matters they did not countenance, as if nature had never conceived them, and such were the monstrous issue of dis- eased imaginations. It was hard for Emilia to hear that what she designed to do was "utterly out of the question and not to be for one moment thought of." She reiterated, with the same interpreting stress, that she had given her promise. "Do you know, I praised you for putting them off so cleverly," said Adela in tones of gentle reproach that be- wildered Emilia. " Must we remind you, then, that you are bound by a previ- ous promise? " Cornelia made a counter-demonstration with the word. " Have you not promised to dine with us at Lady Gosstre's to-night?" " Oh, of course I shall keep that," replied Emilia. " I intend to. I will sing there, and then I will go and sing to those poor people, who never hear anything but dreadful music not music at all, but something that seems to tear your flesh ! " "Never mind our flesh," said Adela pettishly: melodi- ously remonstrating the next instant: "I really thought you could not be in earnest." "But," said Arabella, "can you find pleasure in wasting your voice and really great capabilities on such people?" Emilia caught her up " This poor man? But he loves music : he really knows the good from the bad. He never looks proud but when I sing to him." The situation was one that Cornelia particularly enjoyed. Here was a low form of intellect to be instructed as to the precise meaning of a word, the nature of a pledge. " There can be no harm that I see, in your singing to this man," she commenced. "You can bid him come to one of the put- houses here, if you desire, and sing to him. In the evening, after his labour, will be the fit time. But, as your friends, we cannot permit you to demean yourself by going from our house to a public booth, where vulgar men are smoking and drinking beer. I wonder you have the courage to con- template such an act! You have pledged your word. But if you had pledged your word, child, to swing upon that tree, suspended by your arms, for an hour, oould you keep b'ii EMILIA IN ENGLAND it? I think not; and to recognize an impossibility econo- mizes time and is one of the virtues of a clear understand- ing. It is incompatible that you should dine with Lady Gosstre, and then run away to a drinking-booth. Society will never tolerate one who is familiar with boors. If you are to succeed in life, as we, your friends, can conscientiously say that we most earnestly hope and trust you will do, you must be on good terms with Society. You must! You pledge your word to a piece of folly. Emancipate yourself from it as quickly as possible. Do you see ? This is fool- ish : it, therefore, cannot be. Decide, as a sensible creature." At the close of this harangue, Cornelia, who had stooped slightly to deliver it, regained her stately posture, beautified in Mr. Barrett's sight by the flush which an unwonted exer- cise in speech had thrown upon her cheeks. Emilia stood blinking like one sensible of having been chidden in a strange tongue. "Does it offend you my going?" she faltered. "Offend! our concern is entirely for you," observed Cornelia. The explanation drew out a happy sparkle from Emilia's eyes. She seized her hand, kissed it, and cried: "I do thank you. I know I promised, but indeed I am quite pleased to go ! " Mr. Barrett swung hurriedly round and walked some paces away with his head downward. The ladies remained in a tolerant attitude for a minute or so, silent. They then wheeled with one accord, and Emilia was left to herself. CHAPTER X THE LADIES OF BROOKFIELD AT SCHOOL Eic roBD was an easy drive from Brookfield, through lanes tf elm and white hawthorn. The ladies never acted so well as when they were in jie icnce of a fact which they acknowledged, but did not recognize. Albeit constrained to admit that this was the THE LADIES OF BBOOKFIELD AT SCHOOL 63 first occasion of their ever being on their way to the dinner- table of a person of quality, they could refuse to look the admission in the face. A peculiar lightness of heart beset them; for brooding ambition is richer in that first realizing step it takes, insignificant though it seem, than in any sub- sequent achievement. I fear to say that the hearts of the ladies boiled, because visages so sedate, and voices so monoto- nously indifferent, would witness decidedly against me. The common avoidance of any allusion to Bichford testified to the direction of their thoughts : and the absence of a sign of exultation may be accepted as a proof of the magnitude of that happiness of which they might not exhibit a feature. The effort to repress it must have cost them horrible pain. Adela, the youngest of the three, transferred her inward joy to the cottage children, whose staring faces from garden porch and gate flashed by the carriage windows. "How delighted they look ! " she exclaimed more than once, and informed her sisters that a country life was surely the next thing to Paradise. " Those children do look so happy ! " Thus did the weak one cunningly relieve herself. Arabella occupied her mind by giving Emilia leading hints for con- duct in the great house. " On the whole, though there is no harm in your praising particular dishes, as you do ?* home, it is better in society to say nothing on those subject 1 * until your opinion is asked : and when you speak, it should be as one who passes the subject by. Appreciate flavours, but no dwelling on them ! The degrees of an expression of approbation, naturally enough, vary with age. Did my instinct prompt me to the discussion of these themes, I should be allowed greater licence than you." And here Arabella was unable to resist a little bit of the indulgence Adela had taken : " You are sure to pass a most agreeable evening, and one that you will remember." North Pole sat high above such petty consolation ; seldom speaking, save just to show that her ideas ranged at lib- erty, and could be spontaneously sympathetic on selected topics. Their ceremonious entrance to the state-room of Kichford accomplished, the ladies received the greeting of the affable hostess; quietly perturbed, but not enough so to disorder their artistic contemplation of her open actions, choice of 64 EMILIA IN ENGLAND phrase, and by-play. Without communication or pre- arrangement, each knew that the other would not let slip the opportunity, and, after the first five minutes of languid general converse, they were mentally at work comparing notes with one another's imaginary conversations, while they said "Yes," and "Indeed," and "I think so," and appeared to belong to the world about them. " Merthyr, I do you the honour to hand this young lady to your charge," said Lady Gosstre, putting on equal terms with Emilia a gentleman of perhaps five-and-thirty years ; who reminded her of Mr. Barrett, but was unclouded by that look of firm sadness which characterized the poor organist. Mr. Powys was a travelled Welsh squire, Lady Gosstre's best talker, on whom, as Brookfield learnt to see, she could perfectly rely to preserve the child from any little drawing-room sins or dinner-table misadventures. This gentleman had made sacrifices for the cause of Italy, in money, and, it was said, in blood. He knew the country and loved the people. Brookfield remarked that there was just a foreign tinge in his manner; and that his smile, though social to a degree unknown to the run of English faces, did not give him all to you, and at a second glance seemed plainly to say that he reserved much. Adela fell to the lot of a hussar-captain: a celebrated beauty, not too foolish. She thought it proper to punish him for his good looks till propitiated by his good temper. Nobody at Brookfield could remember afterwards who took Arabella down to dinner ; she declaring that she had forgotten. Her sisters, not unwilling to see insignificance banished to annihilation, said that it must have been nobody in person, and that he was a very useful guest when ladies were en- gaged. Cornelia had a different lot. She leaned on the right arm of the Member for Hillford, that statistical de- ar, Sir Twickenham Pryme, who had twice before, as he i nave come round to your way of thinking 8 regards hustings addresses," he said. "In nine cases of ten at least, nineteen-twentieths of the House will iish instances -one can only, as you justly observed, appeal to the comprehension of the mob by pledging oneself THE LADIES OF BROOKFIELD AT SCHOOL 65 either to their appetites or passions, and it is better plainly to state the case and put it to them in figures." Whether the Baronet knew what he was saying is one matter: he knew what he meant. Wilfrid was cavalier to Lady Charlotte Chillingworth, of Stornley, about ten miles distant from Hillford; ninth daughter of a nobleman who passed current as the Poor Marquis ; he having been ruined when almost a boy in Paris, by the late illustrious Lord Dartford. Her sisters had mar- ried captains in the army and navy, lawyers, and parsons, impartially. Lady Charlotte was nine-and-twenty years of age; with clear and telling stone-blue eyes, firm but not unsweet lips, slightly hollowed cheeks, and a jaw that cer- tainly tended to be square. Her colour was healthy. Walk- ing or standing her figure was firmly poised. Her chief attraction was a bell-toned laugh, fresh as a meadow spring. She had met Wilfrid once in the hunting-field, so they soon had common ground to run on. Mr. Powys made Emilia happy by talking to her of Italy, in the intervals of table anecdotes. "Why did you leave it?" she said. " I found I had more shadows than the one allotted me by nature ; and as I was accustomed to a black one, and not half a dozen white, I was fairly frightened out of the country." " You mean, Austrians." "I do." "Do you hate them?" "Not at all." "Then, how can you love the Italians?" "They themselves have taught me to do both; to love them and not to hate their enemies. Your Italians are the least vindictive of all races of men." " Merthyr, Merthyr ! " went Lady Gosstre ; Lady Char- lotte murmuring aloud : " And in the third chapter of the Book of Paradox you will find these words." "We afford a practical example and forgive them, do we not ? " Mr. Powys smiled at Emilia. She looked round her, and reddened a little. " So long as you do not write that Christian word with the point of a stiletto ! " said Lady Charlotte. 66 EMILIA IN ENGLAND " You are not mad about the Italians? " Wilfrid addressed her. N'ot mad about anything, I hope. If I am to choose, I prefer the Austrians. A very gentlemanly set of men! At least, so I find them always. Capital horsemen! " "I will explain to you how it must be," said Mr. Powys to Emilia. "An artistic people cannot hate long. Hotly for the time, but the oppression gone, and even in the dream of its going, they are too human to be revengeful." "Do we understand such very deep things?" said Lady Gosstre, who was near enough to hear clearly. " Yes : for if I ask her whether she can hate when her mind is given to music, she knows that she cannot. She can love." "Yet I think I have heard some Italian operatic spitfires, and of some ! " said Lady Charlotte. " What opinion do you pronounce in this controversy? " Cornelia made appeal to Sir Twickenham. There are multitudes of cases," he began: and took up another end of his statement : " It has been computed that five-and-twenty murders per month to a population .... to a population of ninety thousand souls, is a fair reckon- ing in a Southern latitude." 'Then we must allow for the latitude?" 1 1 think so." 1 And also for the space into which the ninety thousand souls are packed," quoth Tracy Runningbrook 'Well! well!" went Sir Twickenham. The knife is the law to an Italian of the South," said Mr. Powys. " He distrusts any other, because he never gets it. Where law is established, or tolerably secure, the knife is not used. Duels are rare. There is too much bonhomie for the point of honour." " I should like to believe that all men are as just to their mistresses," Lady Charlotte sighed, mock-earnestly. Presently Emilia touched the arm of Mr. Powys. She looked agitated. " I want to be told the name of that gen- ii is eyes were led to rest on the handsome hus- sar-captain. "Do you know him?" "But his pamet" THE LADIES OF BBOOKFIELD AT SCHOOL 67 "Do me the favour to look at me. Captain Gambler." "It is!" Captain Gambler's face was resolutely kept in profile to her. " I hear a rumour," said Lady Gosstre to Arabella, "that you think of bidding for the Besworth estate. Are you tired of Brookfield?" " Not tired ; but Brookfield is modern, and I confess that Besworth has won my heart." " I shall congratulate myself on having you nearer neigh- bours. Have you many, or any rivals?" " There is some talk of the Tinleys wishing to purchase it. I cannot see why." "What people are they?" asked Lady Charlotte. "Do they hunt?" " Oh, dear, no ! They are to society what Dissenters are to religion. I can't describe them otherwise." "They pass before me in that description," said Lady Gosstre. "Besworth's an excellent centre for hunting," Lady Char- lotte remarked to Wilfrid. " I've always had an affection for that place. The house is on gravel; the river has trout; there's a splendid sweep of grass for the horses to exercise. I think there must be sixteen spare beds. At all events, I know that number can be made up ; so that if you're too poor to live much in London, you can always have your set about you." The eyes of the fair economist sparkled as she dwelt on these particular advantages of Besworth. Richford boasted a show of flowers that might tempt its guests to parade the grounds on balmy evenings. Wilfrid kept by the side of Lady Charlotte. She did not win his taste a bit. Had she been younger, less decided in tone, and without a title, it is very possible that she would have offended his native, secret, and dominating fastidiousness as much as did Emilia. Then, what made him subject at all to her influence, as he felt himself beginning to be? She supplied a deficiency in the youth. He was growing and uncertain: she was set and decisive. In his soul he adored the extreme refinement of woman, even up to the thin edge of inanity (which neighbours what the philoso- 68 EMILIA IN ENGLAND pher could tell him if he would, and would, if it were per- mitted to him). Nothing was too white, too saintly, or too misty, for his conception of abstract woman. But the prac- tical wants of our nature guide us best. Conversation with Lady Charlotte seemed to strengthen and ripen him. He blushed with pleasure when she said : " I remember reading your name in the account of that last cavalry charge on the Dewan. You slew a chief, I think. That was creditable, for they are swordmen. Cavalry in Europe can't win much honour not individual honour, I mean. I suppose being part of a victorious machine is exhilarating. I con- fess I should not think much of wearing that sort of feather. It's right to do one's duty, comforting to trample down op- position, and agreeable to shed blood; but when you have matched yourself man to man, and beaten why, then, I dub you knight." Wilfrid bowed, half-laughing, in a luxurious abandon- ment to his sensations. Possibly because of their rule over him then, the change in him was so instant from flat- tered delight to vexed perplexity. Rounding one of the rhododendron banks, just as he lifted his head from that acknowledgment of the lady's commendation, he had sight of Emilia with her hand in the hand of Captain Gambier. What could it mean? what right had he to hold her hand? Even if he knew her, what right? The words between Emilia and Captain Gambier were few. "Why did I not look at you during dinner?" said he. " Was it not better to wait till we could meet? " "Then you will walk with me and talk to me all the evening?" " No : but I will try and come down here next week and meet you again." "Are you going to-night?" X Co* "To-night? To-night before it strikes a quarter to ten. 1 am going to leave here alone. If you would come with 6 J T 1 *?"?.,* wnP^io*- I know they will not hurt me, rat I don t like being alone. I have given my promise to ing to some poor people. My friends say I must not go. must go. I can't break a promise to poor people. And you have never heard me really sin? my best- Come with me. and I will " THE LADIES OP BBOOKFIELD AT SCHOOL 69 Captain Gambler required certain explanations. He saw that a companion and protection would be needed by his curious little friend, and as she was resolved not to break her word, he engaged to take her in the carriage that was to drive him to the station. "You make me give up an appointment in town," he said. "Ah, but you will hear me sing," returned Emilia. "We will drive to Brookfield and get my harp, and then to Ipley Common. I am to be sure you will be ready with the carriage at just a quarter to ten?" The captain gave her his assurance, and they separated; he to seek out Adela, she to wander about, the calmest of conspirators against the serenity of a household. Meeting Wilfrid and Lady Charlotte, Emilia was asked by him, who it was she had quitted so abruptly. " That is the gentleman I told you of. Now I know his name. It is Captain Gambier." She was allowed to pass on. "What is this she says?" Lady Charlotte asked. "It appears . . . something about a meeting somewhere accidentally, in the park, in London, I think; I really don't know. She had forgotten his name." Lady Charlotte spurred him with an interrogative "Yes?" "She wanted to remember his name. That's all. He was kind to her." "But, after all," remonstrated Lady Charlotte, "that's only a characteristic of young men, is it not? no special distinction. You are all kind to girls, to women, to anything ! " Captain Gambier and Adela crossed their path. He spoke a passing word, Lady Charlotte returned no answer, and was silent to her companion for some minutes. Then she said, "If you feel any responsibility about this little person, take my advice, and don't let her have appoint- ments and meetings. They're bad in any case, and for a girl who has no brother has she? no: well then, you should make the best provision you can against the coward- ice of men. Most men are cowards." Emilia sang in the drawing-room. Brookfield knew per- 70 EMILIA EN ENGLAND fectly why she looked indifferent to the plaudits, and was not dissatisfied at hearing Lady Gosstre say that she was a little below the mark. The kindly lady brought Emilia between herself and Mr. Powys, saying, "I don't intend to let you be the star of the evening and outshine us all." After which, conversation commenced, and Brookfield had reason to admire her ladyship's practised play upon the social instrument, surely the grandest of all, the chords being men and women. Consider what an accomplishment this is! Albeit Brookfield knew itself a student at Kichford, Adela was of too impatient a wit to refrain from little ventures toward independence, if not rivalry. "What we do," she uttered distinctively once or twice. Among other things she spoke of "our discovery," to attest her declara- tion that, to wakeful eyes, neither Hillford nor any other place on earth was dull. Cornelia flushed at hearing the name of Mr. Barrett pronounced publicly by her sister. "An organist an accomplished man!" Lady Gosstre re- peated Adela's words. "Well, I suppose it is possible, out it rather upsets one's notions, does it not?" "Yes, but agreeably," said Adela, with boldness; and related how he had been introduced, and hinted that he was going to be patronized. " The man cannot maintain himself on the income that sort of office brings him," Lady Gosstre observed. "Oh, no," said Adela. "I fancy he does it simply for some sort of occupation. One cannot help imagining a disguise." " Personally I confess to an objection to gentlemen in dis- guise," said Lady Gosstre. "Barrett! do you know the man?" She addressed Mr. Powys. " There used to be good quartett evenings given by the Barretts of Bursey, " he said. " Sir Justinian Barrett mar- i a Miss Purcell, who subsequently preferred the musi- ishraents of a foreign professor of the Art." Furcell Barrett is his name," said Adela. " Our Emilia brought him to us. Where is she? But, where can she Adela rose. THE LADIES OF BBOOKFIELD AT SCHOOL 71 "She pressed my hand just now," said Lady Gosstre. "She was here when Captain Gambier quitted the room," Arabella remarked. " Good heaven ! " The exclamation came from Adela. " Oh, Lady Gosstre ! I fear to tell you what I think she has done." The scene of the rival Clubs was hurriedly related, to- gether with the preposterous pledge given by Emilia, that she would sing at the Ipley Booth : " Among those dreadful men!" "They will treat her respectfully," said Mr Powys. "Worship her, I should imagine, Merthyr," said Lady Gosstre. " For all that, she had better be away. Beer is not a respectful spirit." " I trust you will pardon her, " Arabella pleaded. " Every- thing that explanations of the impropriety of such a thing could do, we have done. We thought that at last we had convinced her. She is quite untamed." Mr. Powys now asked where this place was that she had hurried to. The unhappy ladies of Brookfield, quick as they were to read every sign surrounding them, were for the moment too completely thrown off their balance by Emilia's extraordi- nary exhibition of will, to see that no reflex of her shameful and hideous proceeding had really fallen upon them. Their exclamations were increasing, until Adela, who had been the noisiest, suddenly adopted Lady Gosstre's tone. "If she has gone, I suppose she must be simply fetched away." "Do you see what has happened?" Lady Charlotte mur- mured to Wilfrid, between a phrase. He stumbled over a little piece of gallantry. "Excellent! But, say those things in French. Your dark-eyed maid has eloped. She left the room five min- utes after Captain Gambier." Wilfrid sprang to his feet, looking eagerly to the corners of the room. "Pardon me," he said, and moved up to Lady Gosstre. On the way, he questioned himself why his heart should be beating at such a pace. Standing at her ladyship's feet, he could scarcely speak. fJS EMILIA IN ENGLAND "Yes, Wilfrid; go after her," said Adela, divining hig object. "By all means, go," added Lady Gosstre. "Now she is there, you may as well let her keep her promise; and then hurry her home. They will saddle you a horse down below, if you care to have one." Wilfrid thanked her ladyship, and declined the horse. He was soon walking rapidly under a rough sky in the direction of Ipley, with no firm thought that he would find Emilia there. CHAPTER XI IN WHICH WK SEE THE MAGNANIMITY THAT IS IN BEER AT half-past nine of the clock on the evening of this memorable day, a body of five-and-twenty stout young fellows, prize-runners, wrestlers, boxers, and topers, of the Hillford Club, set forth on a march to Ipley Com- mon. Now, a foreigner, hearing of their destination and the provocation they had endured, would have supposed that they were bent upon deeds of vengeance; and it requires knowledge of our countrymen to take it as a fact that the idea and aim of the expedition were simply to furnish the offending Ipley boys a little music. Such were the idea and the aim. Hillford had nothing to do with conse- quences: no more than our England is responsible when she sails out among the empires and hemispheres, saying, buy ' and 'sell,' and they clamour to be eaten up entire. Foreigners pertinaciously misunderstand us. They have the barbarous habit of judging by results. Let us know ourselves better. It is melancholy to contemplate the tvigOM, and vile designs, and vengeances of other nations; 1 more so, after we have written so many pages of slhgible history, to see them attributed to us. Will it lever be perceived that we do not sow the thing that hap- The source of the flooding stream which drinks up those rich acres of low flat land is not more innocent tha THE MAGNJLNIMITT IN BEER 73 we. If, as does seem possible, we are in a sort of alliance with Destiny, we have signed no compact, and accomplish our work as solidly and merrily as a wood-hatchet in the- hands of the woodman. This arrangement to give Ipley a little music, was projected as a return for the favours of the morning: nor have I in my time heard anything com- parable to it in charity of sentiment, when I consider the detestable outrage Hillford suffered under. The parading of the drum, the trombone, a horn, two> whistles, and a fife, in front of Hillford booth, caught the fancy of the Clubmen, who roared out parting adjurations that the music was not to be spared; and that Tom B reeks was a musical fellow, with a fine empty pate, if any one of the instruments should fail perchance. They were to give Ipley plenty of music : for Ipley wanted to be taught har- mony. Harmony was Ipley's weak point. "Gie 'em," said one jolly ruddy Hillford man, " gie 'em whack fol, lol! " And he smacked himself, and set toward an invisible part- ner. Nor, as recent renowned historians have proved, are observations of this nature beneath the dignity of chronicle. They vindicate, as they localize, the sincerity of Hillford. Really, to be an islander full of ale, is to be the kindest creature on or off two legs. For that very reason, it may be, his wrath at bad blood is so easily aroused. In our hot moods we would desire things like unto ourselves, and object violently to whatsoever is unlike. And also we desire that the benefits we shed be appreciated. If Ipley understands neither our music nor our intent, haply we must hold a performance on the impenetrable sconce of Ipley. At the hour named, the expedition, with many a promise that the music should be sweet, departed hilariously : Will Burdock, the left-handed cricketer and hard-hitter, being leader; with Peter Bartholomew, potboy, John Girling, miller's man, and Ned Thewk, gardener's assistant, for lieutenants. On the march, silence was proclaimed, and partially enforced, after two fights against authority. Near the sign of King William's Head, General Burdock called a halt, and betrayed irresolution with reference to the route to be adopted ; but as none of his troop could at all share such a condition of mind in the neighbourhood of 74 EMILIA IN ENGLAND an inn, he was permitted to debate peacefully with his lieutenants, while the rest burst through the doors and hailed the landlord : a proceeding he was quickly induced to imitate. Thus, when the tail shows strongest decision of purpose, the head must follow. An accurate oinometer, or method of determining what chall be the condition of the spirit of man according to the degrees of wine or beer in him, were surely of priceless service to us. For now must we, to be certain of our sanity and dignity, abstain, which is to clip, impoverish, imprison, the soul : or else, taking wings of wine, we go aloft over capes, and islands, and seas, but are even as balloons that cannot make for any line, and are at the mercy of the winds without a choice, save to come down by virtue of a collapse. Could we say to ourselves, in the great style, This is the point where desire to embrace humanity is merged in vindictiveness toward individuals : where radiant sweet temper culminates in tremendous wrath : where the treasures of anticipation, waxing riotous, arouse the memory of wrongs : in plain words, could we know positively, and from the hand of science, when we have had enough, we should stop. There is not a doubt that we should stop. It is so true we should stop, that, I am ready to say, ladies have no right to call us horrid names, and complain of us, till they have helped us to some such trustworthy scientific instrument as this which I have called for. In its absence, I am persuaded that the true natural oinometer is the hat. Were the hat always worn during potation; were ladies when they retire to place it on our heads, or, better still, chaplets of flowers ; then, like the wise ancients, we should be able to tell to a nicety how far we had advanced in our dithyramb to the theme of fuddle and muddle. Unhappily the hat does not forewarn: it is simply indicative. I believe, nevertheless, that science might set to work upon it forthwith, and found a system. When you mark men drinking who wear their hats, and those hats are seen gradually beginning to hang on the backs of their heads, as from pegs, in the fashion of a fez, the bald projection of forehead looks jolly and frank: distrust that sign: the may-fly of the soul is then about to be gobbled up by the Chub of the passions. A hat worn fez-fashion is a danger- THE MAGNANIMITY IN BEEB 75 ous hat. A hat on the brows shows a man who can take more, but thinks he will go home instead, and does so, peaceably. That is his determination. He may look like Macduff, but he is a lamb. The vinous reverses the non- vinous passionate expression of the hat. If I am dis- credited, I appeal to history, which tells us that the hats of the Hillford five-and-twenty were all exceedingly hind- ward-set when the march was resumed. It followed that Peter Bartholomew, potboy, made irritable objections to that old joke which finished his name as though it were a cat calling, and the offence being repeated, he dealt an im- partial swing of his stick at divers heads, and told them to take that, which they assured him they had done by send- ing him flying into a hedge. Peter, being reprimanded by his commanding officer, acknowledged a hot desire to try his mettle, and the latter responsible person had to be restrained from granting the wish he cherished by John Girling, whom he threw for his trouble: and as Burdock was the soundest hitter, numbers cried out against Girling, revolting him with a sense of overwhelming injustice that could be appeased only by his prostrating two stout lads and squaring against a third, who came up from a cross- road. This one knocked him down with the gentleness of a fist that knows how Beer should be treated, and then sang out, in the voice of Wilfrid Pole : " Which is the nearest way to Ipley, you fellows?" "Come along with us, sir, and we'll show you," said Burdock. "Are you going there?" "Well, that's pretty clear." "Hillford men, are you?" "We've left the women behind." "I'm in a hurry, so, good night." "And so are we in a hurry, sir. But, you're a gentle- man, and we want to give them chaps at Ipley a little sur- prise, d'ye see, in the way of a dollop o' music: and if you won't go givin' 'em warning, you may trot; and that road'll take you." "All right," said Wilfrid, now fairly divided between his jealousy of Gambier and anxiety for Emilia. Could her artist nature, of which he had heard perplex^ 76 EMILIA IN ENGLAND ing talk, excuse her and make her heart absolutely guiltless (what he called "innocent"), in trusting herself to any man's honour? I regret to say that the dainty adorers of the sex are even thus grossly suspicious of all women when their sentiment is ever so triflingly offended. Lights on Ipley Common were seen from a rise of the hilly road. The moon was climbing through drifts of torn black cloud. Hastening his pace, for a double reason now, Wil- frid had the booth within hearing, listened a moment; and Mien stood fast. His unconscious gasp of the words: "Thank God; there she is!" might have betrayed him to another. She was sitting near one end of the booth, singing as Wilfrid had never yet heard her sing : her dark eyes flash- ing. Behind her stood Captain Gambier, keeping guard with all the composure of a gentleman-usher at a royal presentation. Along the tables, men and women were ranged facing her; open-mouthed, some of them: but for the most part wearing a predetermined expression of applausive judgement, as who should say, "Queer, but good." They gave Emilia their faces, which was all she wanted ! and silence, save for an intermingling soft snore, here and there, the elfin trumpet of silence. To tell truth, certain heads had bowed low to the majesty of beer, and were down on the table between sprawling doubled arms. No essay on the power of beer could exhibit it more con- rincingly than the happy indifference with which they received admonishing blows from quart-pots, salutes from hot pipe-bowls, pricks from pipe-ends, on nose, and cheek, and pate; as if to vindicate for their beloved beverage a right to rank with that old classic drink wherewith the fairest of women vanquished human ills. The majority, however, had been snatched out of this bliss by the intru- ion of their wives, who sat beside them like Consciences in . petticoats ; and it must be said that Emilia was in favour with the married men, for one reason, because she gave these broad-ribboned ladies a good excuse for allowing their lords to stop where they were so comfortable, a continually- extending five minutes longer. Yet, though the words were foreign and the style of the long and the singer were strange, many of the older fellows' THE MAGNANIMITY IN BEEE 77 eyes twinkled, and their mouths pursed with a kind of half -protesting pleasure. All were reverent to the compli- ment paid them by Emilia's presence. The general expres- sion was much like that seen when the popular ear is given to the national anthem. Wilfrid hung at the opening of the booth, a cynical spectator. For what on earth made her throw such energy, and glory of music, into a song before fellows like these? He laughed dolorously. "She hasn't a particle of any sense of ridicule," he said to him- self. Forthwith her voice took hold of him, and led him as heroes of old were led unwillingly into enchanted woods. If she had been singing things holy, a hymn, a hallelujah, in this company, it struck him that somehow it would have seemed appropriate; not objectionable; at any rate, not ridiculous. Dr. Watts would have put a girdle about her; but a song of romance sung in this atmosphere of pipes and beer and boozy heads, chagrined Wilfrid in proportion as the softer half of him began to succumb to the deliciousness of her voice. Emilia may have had some warning sense that admiration is only one ingredient of homage, that to make it fast and true affection must be won. Now, poor people, yokels, clods, cannot love what is incomprehensible to them. An idol must have their attributes : a king must show his face now and then : a song must appeal to their intelligence, to subdue them quite. This, as we know, is not the case in the higher circles. Emilia may have divined it: possibly from the very great respect with which her finale was greeted. Vigorous as the " Brayvos " were, they sounded abashed : they lacked abandonment. In fact, it was grati- tude that applauded, and not enthusiasm. " Hillf ord don't hear stuff like that, do 'em?" which was the main verbal encomium passed, may be taken testificatorily as to this point. " Dame ! dame ! " cried Emilia, finding her way quickly to one of the more decently -bonneted women; "am I nob glad to see you here! Did I please you? And you, dear Farmer Wilson? I caught sight of you just as I was finish- ing. I remember the song you like, and I want to sing it. I know the tune, but the words ! the words ! what are the words? Humming won't do." 78 EMILIA IN ENGLAND " Ah, now ! " quoth Farmer Wilson, pointing out the end of his pipe, "that's what they'll swallow down; that's the song to make 'em kick. Sing that, miss. Furrin songs 's all right enough; but 'Ale it is my tipple, and England is my nation ! ' Let's have something plain and flat on the surface, miss." Dame Wilson jogged ht>r husband's arm, to make him remember that talking was his dangerous pastime, and sent abroad a petition for a song-book; and after a space a very doggy-eared book, resembling a poodle of that genus, was handed to her. Then uprose a shout for this song and that; but Emilia fixed upon the one she had in view, and walked back to her harp, with her head bent, perusing it attentively all the way. There, she gave the book to Cap- tain Gam bier, and begged him to hold it open before her, with a passing light of eyes likely to be rather disturbing to a jealous spectator. The captain seized the book with- out wincing, and displayed a remarkable equanimity of countenance as he held it out, according to direction. No sooner had Emilia struck a prelude of the well-known air, than the interior of the booth was transfigured; legs began to move, elbows jerked upward, fingers fillipped : the whole body of them were ready to duck and bow, dance, and do her bidding: she had fairly caught their hearts. For, besides the pleasure they had in their own familiar tune, it was wonderful to them that Emilia should know what they knew. This was the marvel, this the inspiration. She smiled to see how true she had struck, and seemed to swim on the pleasure she excited. Once, as her voice dropped, she looked up at Captain Gambier, so very archly, with the curving line of her bare throat, that Wilfrid was dragged down from his cynical observatory, and made to feel as a common man among them all. At the " thrum-thrum " on the harp-strings, which wound up the song, frenzied shouts were raised for a repetition. Emilia was perfectly willing to gratify them; Captain Gambier appeared to be remonstrating with her, but she put up her joined hands, mock-petitioningly, and he with great affability held out the book anew. Wilfrid was thinking of moving to her to take her forcibly away when she re- commenced. THE MAGNANIMITY IN BEER 79 At the same instant but who, knowing that a house of glass is about to be shattered, can refrain from admiring its glitter in the beams? Ipley crooned a ready accompani- ment : the sleepers had been awakened : the women and the men were alive, half -dancing, half-chorussing : here a baby was tossed, and there an old fellow's elbow worked mutely, expressive of the rollicking gaiety within him : the whole length of the booth was in a pleasing simmer, ready to overboil with shouts humane and cheerful, while Emilia pitched her note and led ; archly, and quite one with them all, and yet in a way that critical Wilfrid could not object to, so plainly did she sing to give happiness. I cannot delay ; but I request you, that are here privileged to soar aloft with the Muse, to fix your minds upon one point in this flight. Let not the heat and dust of the ensuing fray divert your attention from the magnanimity of Beer. It will be vindicated in the end : but be worthy of your seat beside the Muse, who alone of us all can take one view of the inevitable two that perplex mortal judgements. For, if Ipley had jumped jovially up, and met the Hill- ford alarum with laughter, how then? Why, then I maintain that the magnanimity of Beer would have blazed effulgent on the spot : there would have been louder laugh- ter and fraternal greetings. As it was, the fire on the altar of Wisdom was again kindled by Folly, and the steps to the altar were broken heads, after the antique fashion. In dismay, Ipley started. The members of the Club stared. Emilia faltered in horror. A moment her voice swam stemming the execrable con- cert, but it was overwhelmed. Wilfrid pressed forward to her. They could hear nothing but the din. The booth raged like an insurgent menagerie. Outside it sounded of brazen beasts, and beasts that whistled, beasts that boomed. A whirlwind huddled them, and at last a cry, " We've got a visit from Hillford," told a tale. At once the stoutest hearts pressed to the opening. " My harp ! " Emilia made her voice reach Wilfrid's ear. Unprovided with weapons, Ipley parleyed. Hillford howled in reply. The trombone brayed an interminable note, that would have driven to madness quiescent cats by steaming kettles, and quick, like the springing pulse of battle, the drum thumped and 90 EMILIA IN ENGLAND thumped. Blood could not hear it and keep from boiling. The booth shook violently. Wilfrid and Gambler threw orer half-a-dozen chairs, forms, and tables, to make a bar- rier for the protection of the women. "Come," Wilfrid said to Emilia, "leave the harp, I will get you another. Come." "No, no," she cried in her nervous fright. "For God's sake, come!" he reiterated, she, stamping her foot, as to emphasize "No! no! no! " "But I will buy you another harp; " he made audible to her through the hubbub. "This one!" she gasped with her hand on it. "What will he think if he finds that I forsook it? " Wilfrid knew her to allude to the unknown person who had given it to her. " There there," said he. " I sent it, and I can get you another. So, come. Be good, and come." "It was you!" Emilia looked at him. She seemed to have no senses for the uproar about her. But now the outer barricade was broken through, and the rout pressed on the second line. Tom Breeks, the orator, and Jim, transformed from a lurching yokel to a lithe dog of battle, kept the retreat of Ipley, challenging any two of Hillford to settle the dispute. Captain Gambier attempted an authoritative parley, in the midst of whch a Hillford man made a long arm and struck Emilia's harp, till the strings jarred loose and horrid. The noise would have been enough to irritate Wilfrid beyond endurance. When he saw the fellow continuing to strike the harp-frame while Emilia clutched it, in a feeble defence, against her bosom, he caught a thick stick from a neighouring hand and knocked that Hillford man so clean to earth that Hillford murmured at the blow. Wilfrid then joined the front array. "Half-a-dozen hits like that a-piece, sir," nodded Tom, Breeks. "There goes another! " Jim shouted. "Not quite, my lad," interposed Ned Thewk, though Peter Bartholomew was reeling in confirmation. His blow at Jim missed, but came sharply in the swine on Wilfrid's cheek-bone. THE MAGNANIMITY IN BEBB 81 Maddened at the immediate vision of that feature swollen, purple, even as a plum with an assiduous fly on it, certify- ing to ripeness : Says the philosopher, " We are never up to the mark of any position, if we are in a position beneath our own mark ; " and it is true that no hero in conflict should think of his face, but Wilfrid was all the while protesting wrathfully against the folly of his having set foot in such a place: Maddened, I say, Wilfrid, a keen swordman, cleared a space. John Girling fell to him : Ned Thewk fell to him, and the sconce of Will Burdock rang. "A rascally absurd business! " said Gambier, letting his stick do the part of a damnatory verb on one of the enemy, while he added, " The drunken vagabonds ! " All the Hillford party were now in the booth. Ipley, meantime, was not sleeping. Farmer Wilson and a set of the Ipley men whom age had sagaciously instructed to pre- fer stratagem to force, had slipped outside, and were labour- ing as busily as their comrades within : stooping to the tent-pegs, sending emissaries to the tent-poles. "Drunk!" roared Will Burdock. "Did you happen io say 'drunk '?" And looking all the while at Gambier, he, with infernal cunning, swung at Wilfrid's fated cheek- bone. The latter rushed furiously into the press of them, and there was a charge from Ipley, and a lock, from which Wilfrid extricated himself to hurry off Emilia. He per- ceived that bad blood was boiling up. "Forward!" cried Will Burdock, and Hillford in turn made a tide. As they came on in numbers too great for Ipley to stand against, an obscuration fell over all. The fight paused. Then a sensation as of some fellows smoothing their polls and their cheeks, and leaning on their shoulders with ob- trusive affection, inspirited them to lash about indiscrimi- nately. Whoops and yells arose; then peals of laughter. Homage to the cleverness of Ipley was paid in hurrahs, the moment Hillford understood the stratagem by which its men of valour were lamed and imprisoned. The truth was, that the booth was down on them, and they were struggling entangled in an enormous bag of canvas. Wilfrid drew Emilia from under the drooping folds of the tent. He was allowed, on inspection of features, to 82 EMILIA IN ENGLAND pass. The men of Hillford were captured one by one like wild geese, as with difficulty they emerged, roaring, rolling with laughter, all. Yea; to such an extent did they laugh that they can scarce be said to have done less than make the joke of the foe their own. And this proves the great and amazing magnanimity of Beer. CHAPTER XII A PILLAR of dim silver rain fronted the moon on the hills. Emilia walked hurriedly, with her head bent, like a penitent: now and then peeping up and breathing to the keen scent of the tender ferns. Wilfrid still grasped her hand, and led her across the common, away from the rout. When the uproar behind them had sunk, he said : " You'll get your feet wet. I'm sorry you should have to walk. How did you come here?" She answered: "I forget." "You must have come here in some conveyance. Did you walk? " Again she answered: "I forget;" a little querulously; perhaps wilfully. "Well!" he persisted: "You must have got your harp to this place by some means or other? " " Yes, my harp ! " a sob checked her voice. Wilfrid tried to soothe her. "Never mind the harp. It's easily replaced." "Not that one! " she moaned. "We will get you another." I shall never love any but that." 'Perhaps we may hear good news of it to-morrow." "No; for I felt it die in my hands. The third blow was the one that killed it. It's broken." Wilfrid could not reproach her, and he had not any desire *> preach. So, as no idea of having done amiss in coming SENTIMENT, PASSION, AND LOVE 83 to the booth to sing illumined her, and she yet knew that she was in some way guilty, she accused herself of disre- gard for that dear harp while it was brilliant and service- able. "Now I remember what poor music I made of it! I touched it with cold fingers. The sound was thin, as if it had no heart. Tick-tick ! I fancy I touched it with a dead man's finger-nails." She crossed her wrists tight at the clasp of her waist, and letting her chin fall on her throat, shook her body fretfully, much as a pettish little girl might do. Wilfrid grimaced. "Tick-tick" was not a pathetic elegy in his ears. "The only thing is, not to think about it," said he. "It's only an instrument, after all." " It's the second one I've seen killed like a living creat- ure," replied Emilia. They walked on silently, till Wilfrid remarked, that he wondered where Gambier was. She gave no heed to the name. The little quiet footing and the bowed head by his side, moved him to entreat her not to be unhappy. Her voice had another tone when she answered that she was not unhappy. "No tears at all?" Wilfrid stooped to get a close view of her face. " I thought I saw one. If it's about the harp, look ! you shall go into that cottage where the light is, sit there, and wait for me, and I will bring you what remains of it. I dare say we can have it mended." Emilia lifted her eyes. " I am not crying for the harp. If you go back I must go with you." " That's out of the question. You must never be found in that sort of place again." "Let us leave the harp," she murmured. "You cannot go without me. Let me sit here for a minute. Sit with me." She pointed to a place beside herself on the fork of a dry log under flowering hawthorn. A pale shadowy blue centre of light among the clouds told where the moon was. Rain had ceased, and the refreshed earth smelt all of flowers, as if each breeze going by held a nosegay to their nostrils. Wilfrid was sensible of a sudden marked change in her. His blood was quicker than his brain in feeling it. Her g4 EMTTVTA IN ENGLAND voice now, even in common speaking, had that vibrating richness which in her singing swept his nerves. "If you cry, there must be a cause, you know," he said, for the sake of keeping the conversation in a safe channel. " How brave you are ! " was Emilia's sedate exclamation, in reply. Her cheeks glowed, as if she had just uttered a great confession, but while the colour mounted to her eyes, they kept their affectionate intentness upon him without a quiver of the lids. "Do you think me a coward?" she relieved him by asking sharply, like one whom the thought had turned into a darker path. " I am not. I hung my head while you were fighting, because, what could I do? I would not have left you. Girls can only say, 'I will perish with him.'" "But," Wilfrid tried to laugh, "there was no necessity for that sort of devotion. What are you thinking of? It was half in good humour, all through. Part of their fun ! " Clearly Emilia's conception of the recent fray was unchangeable. "And the place for girls is at home; that's certain," he added. "I should always like to be where. . . ." Her voice flowed on with singular gravity to that stop. Wilfrid's hand travelled mechanically to his prickling sheek-bone. Was it possible that a love scene was coming on as a pendant to that monstrously ridiculous affair of half-an- hour back? To know that she had sufficient sensibility was gratifying, and flattering that it aimed at him. She was really a darling little woman: only too absurd! Had she been on the point of saying that she would always like to be where he, Wilfrid, was? An odd touch of curiosity, peculiar to the languid emotions, made him ask her this: and to her soft "Yes," he continued briskly, and in the style of condescending fellowship: "Of course we're not going to part!" I wonder," said Emilia. There she sat, evidently sounding right through the future with her young brain, to hear what Destiny might have SENTIMENT, PASSION, AND LOVE 85 The 'I wonder ' rang sweetly in his head. It was as deli- cate a way of confessing, "I love you with all my soul," as could be imagined. Extremely refined young ladies could hardly have improved upon it, saving with the angelio shades of sentiment familiar to them. Convinced that he had now heard enough for his vanity, Wilfrid returned emphatically to the tone of the world's highroad. "By the way," he said, "you mustn't have any exagger- ated idea of this night's work. Remember, also, I have to share the honours with Captain Gambier." "I did not see him," said Emilia. " Are you not cold? " he asked, for a diversion, though he had one of her hands. She gave him the other. He could not quit them abruptly : nor could he hold both without being drawn to her. "What is it you say?" Wilfrid whispered : "'Men kiss us when we are happy. ' Is that right? and are you happy ? " She lifted a clear full face, to which he bent his mouth. Over the flowering hawthorn the moon stood like a wind- blown white rose of the heavens. The kiss was given and taken. Strange to tell, it was he who drew away from it almost bashfully, and with new feelings. Quite unaware that he played the feminine part, Wilfrid alluded to her flight from Richford, with the instinct to sting his heart by a revival of his jealous sensations previ- ously experienced, and so taste the luxury of present satis- faction. "Why did you run away from me?" he said, semi- reproachfully. "I promised." " Would you not break a promise to stay with me? " "Now I would!" "You promised Captain Gambier?" "No: those poor people." " You are sorry that you went? " No : she was happy. " You have lost your harp by it, " said Wilfrid. " What do you think of me for not guessing not know- ing who sent it? " she returned. " I feel guilty of something 86 EMILIA IN ENGLAND all those days that I touched it, not thinking of you. Wicked, filthy little creature that I was! I despise un- Sr * I detest anything that has to do with gratitude," Wil- frid appended, " pray give me none. Why did you go away with Captain Gambier?" " I was very fond of him," she replied unhesitatingly, but speaking as it were with numbed lips. " I wanted to tell him, to thank him and hold his hand. I told him of my promise. He spoke to me a moment in the garden, you know. He said he was leaving to go to London early, and would wait for me in the carriage: then we might talk. He did not wish to talk to me in the garden." " And you went with him in the carriage, and told him you were so grateful? " " Yes; but men do not like us to be grateful." " So, he said he would do all sorts of things on condition that you were not grateful?" " He said yes : I forget : I do forget ! How can I tell what he said? " Emilia added piteously. " I feel as if I had been emptied out of a sack ! " Wilfrid was pierced with laughter; and then the plain- spoken simile gave him a chilling sensation while he was rising to the jealous pitch. " Did he talk about taking you to Italy? Put your head into the sack, and think ! " "Yes," she answered blandly, an affirmative that caused him some astonishment, for he had struck at once to the farthest end of his suspicions. " He feels as I do about the Italian Schools," said Emilia. "He wishes me to owe my learning to him. He says it will make him happy, and I thought so too." She threw in a "then." Wilfrid looked moodily into the opposite hedge. " Did he name the day for your going? " he asked pres- ently, little anticipating another " Yes: " but it came: and her rather faltering manner showed her to be conscious too that the word was getting to be a black one to him. " Did you say you would go? " "I did." Question and answer crossed like two rapiers. SENTIMENT, PASSION, AND LOVE 87 Wilfrid jumped up. "The smell of this tree's detestable," he said, glancing at the shadowing hawthorn. Emilia rose quietly, plucked a flower off the tree, and put it in her bosom. Their way was down a green lane and across long meadow- paths dim in the moonlight. A nightingale was heard on this side and on that. Overhead they had a great space of sky with broken cloud full of the glory of the moon. The meadows dipped to a brook, slenderly spanned by a plank. Then there was an ascent through a cornfield to a copse. Bounding this they had sight of Brookfield. But while they were yet at the brook, Wilfrid said, " When is it you're going to Italy?" In return he had an eager look, so that he was half ashamed to add, "With Captain Gambier, I mean." He was suffer- ing, and by being brutal he expected to draw balm on him- self; nor was he deceived. Emilia just then gave him her hand to be led over, and answered, as she neared him, "I am never to leave you." " You never shall ! " Wilfrid caught her in his arms, quite conquered by her, proud of her. He reflected with a loving rapture that her manner at that moment was equal to any lady's ; and the phantom of her with her hand out, and her frank look, and trustful footing, while she spoke those words, kept on advancing to him all the way to Brook- field, at the same time that the sober reality murmured at his elbow. Love, with his accustomed cunning, managed thus to lift her out of the mire and array her in his golden dress : to idealize her, as we say. Reconciled for the hour were the/ contesting instincts in the nature of this youth : the adora- tion of feminine refinement and the susceptibility to sensu- ous impressions. But Emilia walked with a hero : the dream of all her days ! one, generous and gentle, as well as brave : who had fought for her, had thought of her tenderly, was with her now, having raised her to his level with a touch ! How much might they not accomplish together: he with sword, she with harp? Through shadowy alleys in the clouds, Emilia saw the bright Italian plains opening out to her : the cities of marble, such as her imagination had fash- gg EMILIA IS ENGLAND ioned them, porticos of stately palaces, and towers, and statues white among cypresses ; and farther, minutely-radi- ant in the vista as a shining star, Venice of the sea. Fancy- made the flying minutes hours. Now they marched with the regiments of Italy, under the folds of her free banner; now she sang to the victorious army, waving the banner over them; and now she floated in a gondola, and turning to him, the dear home of her heart, yet pale with the bleed- ing of his wound for Italy, said softly, in the tone that had power with him, "Only let me please you! " " When? Where? What with? " came the blunt response from England, with electric speed, and Emilia fell from the clouds. "I meant my singing; I thought of how I sang to you. Oh, happy time!" she exclaimed, to cut through the mist of vision in her mind. "To me? down at the booth?" muttered Wilfrid, per- plexed. "Oh, no! I mean, just now " and languid with the burden of so full a heart, she did not attempt to explain herself further, though he said, invitingly, "I thought I heard you humming?" Then he was seized with a desire to have the force of her spirit upon him, for Brookfield was in view ; and with the sight of Brookfield, the natural fascination waxed a shade fainter, and he feared it might be going. This (he was happily as ignorant as any other youth of the working of his machinery) prompted him to bid her sing before they parted. Emilia checked her steps at once to do as he desired. Her throat filled, but the voice quavered down again, like a fainting creature sick unto death. She made another effort and ended with a sorrowful look at his narrowly-watching eyes. "I can't," she said; and, in fear of his anger, took his hand to beg forgiveness, while her eyelids drooped. Wilfrid locked her fingers in a strong pressure, and walked on, silent as a man who has faced one of the veiled mys- teries of life. It struck a full human blow on his heart, dragging him out of his sentimental pastures precipitately. He felt her fainting voice to be the intensest love-cry that could be uttered. The sound of it coursed through his blood. A SHORT DISCOURSE ON PUPPETS 89 striking a rare illumination of sparks in his not commonly brilliant brain. In truth, that little episode showed an image of nature weak with the burden of new love. I do not charge the young cavalry officer with the power of perceiv- ing images. He saw no more than that she could not sing because of what was in her heart toward him; but such a physical revelation was a divine love-confession, coining involuntarily from one whose lips had not formed the name of love ; and Wilfrid felt it so deeply, that the exquisite flattery was almost lost, in a certain awed sense of his being in the presence of an absolute fact : a thing real, though it was much talked about, and visible, though it did not wear a hat or a petticoat. It searched him thoroughly enough to keep him from any further pledges in that direction, propitious as the moment was, while the moon slipped over banks of marble into fields of blue, and all the midnight promised silence. They passed quickly through the laurel shrubs, and round the lawn. Lights were in the sleepless ladies' bed-room windows. "Do I love her?" thought Wilfrid, as he was about to pull at the bell, and the thought that he should feel pain at being separated from her for half-a-dozen hours, persuaded him that he did. The self-restraint which withheld him from protesting that he did, confirmed it. "To-morrow morning," he whispered. "I shall be down by daylight," answered Emilia. "You are in the shade I cannot see you," said he. The door opened as Emilia was moving out of the line of shadow. CHAPTER XIII CONTAINS A SHORT DItCOURSE OW PUPPETS ON the morrow Wilfrid was gone. No one had seen him go. Emilia, while she touched the keys of a muted piano softly in the morning quiet of the house, had heard the front-door close. At that hour one attributes every noise to the servants. She played on and waited patiently, till the housemaid expelled her into the dewy air. 90 EMILIA IN ENGLAND The report from his bedchamber, telling the ladies of his absence, added that he had taken linen for a lengthened \ottrney. ' This curious retreat of my hero belongs to the order of things that are done < None know why ; ' a curtain which drops conveniently upon either the bewilderment of the showman or the infirmities of the puppet. I must own (though I need not be told what odium frowns on such a pretension to excess of cleverness) that I do know why. I know why, and, unfortunately for me, I have to tell what I know. If I do not tell, this narrative is so con- stituted that there will be no moral to it. One who studies man in puppets (in which purpose lies the chief value of this amusing species), must think that we are degenerating rapidly. The puppet hero, for instance, is a changed being. We know what he was ; but now he takes shelter in his wits. His organs affect his destiny. Careless of the fact that the hero's achievement is to conquer nature, he seems rather to boast of his subservience to her. Still, up to this day, the fixture of a nose upon the puppet- hero's frontispiece has not been attempted. Some one does it at last. When the alternative came: "No nose to the hero, no moral to the tale ; " could there be hesitation ? And I would warn our sentimentalists to admit the nose among the features proper to heroes, otherwise the race will become extinct. There is already an amount of dropping of the curtain that is positively wearisome, even to extremely refined persons, in order to save him from apparent miscon- duct He will have to go altogether, unless we boldly figure him as other men. Manifestly the moment his career as a fairy prince was at end, he was on the highroad to a nose. The beneficent Power that discriminated for him having vanished utterly, he was, like a bankrupt gentleman, obliged to do all the work for himself. This is nothing more than the tendency of the generations downward from the ideal. The springs that moved Wilfrid upon the present occa- sion were simple. We will strip him of his heroic trappings for one fleeting instant, and show them. Jumping briskly from a restless bed, his first act was to address his features to the looking-glass : and he saw surely the most glorious sight for a hero of the knightly age that A SHORT DISCOURSE ON PUPPETS 91 could possibly have been offered. The battle of the previous night was written there in one eloquent big lump, which would have passed him current as hero from end to end of the land in the great days of old. These are the tea-table days. His preference was for the visage of Wilfrid Pole, which he saw not. At the aspect of the fearful mask, this young man stared, and then cursed ; and then, by an odd transition, he was reminded, as by the force of a sudden gust, that Emilia's hair was redolent of pipe-smoke. His remark was, "I can't be seen in this state." His thought (a dim reminiscence of poetical readings) : " Am- brosial locks indeed ! " A sad irony, which told that much gold-leaf had peeled away from her image in his heart Wilfrid was a gallant fellow, with good stuff in him. But, he was young. Ponder on that pregnant word, for you are about to see him grow. He was less a coxcomb than shame- faced and sentimental ; and one may have these qualities, and be a coxcomb to boot, and yet be a gallant fellow. One may also be a gallant fellow, and harsh, exacting, double- dealing, and I know not what besides, in youth. The ques- tion asked by nature is, " Has he the heart to take and keep an impression ? " For, if he has, circumstances will force him on and carve the figure of a brave man out of that mass of contradictions. In return for such benefits, he pays for- feit commonly of the dearest of the things prized by him in this terrestrial life. Whereat, albeit created man by her, he reproaches nature, and the sculptor, circumstance; forget- ting that to make him man is their sole duty, and that what betrayed him was the difficulty thrown in their way by his quondam self the pleasant boonf ellow ! He forgets, in fact, that he was formerly led by his nose, and sacrificed his deeper feeling to a low disgust. When the youth is called upon to look up, he can adore devoutly and ardently ; but when it is his chance to look down on a fair head, he is, if not worse, a sentimental despot. Wilfrid was young, and under the dominion of his senses ; which can be, if the sentimentalists will believe me, as tyrannous and misleading when super-refined as when ultra- bestial. He made a good stout effort to resist the pipe- smoke. Emilia's voice, her growing beauty, her simplicity, her peculiar charms of feature, were all conjured up to com- 92 BMILIA IN ENGLAND bat the dismal images suggested by that fatal, dragging-down smell. It was vain. Horrible pipe-smoke pervaded the memory of her. It seemed to his offended dainty fancy that he could never dissociate her from smoking-booths and abominably bad tobacco ; and, let us add (for this was part of the secret), that it never could dwell on her without the companionship of a hideous disfigured countenance, claiming to be Wilfrid Pole. He shuddered to think that he had virtually almost engaged himself to this girl. Or, had he ? Was his honour bound ? Distance appeared to answer the question favourably. There was safety in being distant from her. She possessed an incomprehensible attractiveness. She was at once powerful and pitiable : so that while he feared her, and was running from her spell, he said, from time to time, " Poor little thing ! " and deeply hoped she would not be unhappy. A showman once (a novice in his art, or ambitious beyond the mark), after a successful exhibition of his dolls, handed them to the company, with the observation, " Satisfy your- selves, ladies and gentlemen." The latter, having satisfied themselves that the capacity of the lower limbs was extraor- dinary, returned them, disenchanted. That showman did UL But I am not imitating him. I do not wait till after the performance, when it is too late to revive illusion. To avoid having to drop the curtain, I choose to explain an act on which the story hinges, while it is advancing : which is, in truth, an impulse of character. Instead of his being more of a puppet, this hero is less wooden than he was. Certainly I am much more in awe of him. CHAPTER XIV THE BESWORTH QUESTION MB. POLE was one of those men whose characters are read off at a glance He was neat, insignificant, and nervously cheer- ful; with the eyes of a bird, that let you into no interior. IB friends knew him thoroughly. His daughters were never THE BESWOKTH QUESTION 93 in doubt about him. At the period of the purchase of Brook- field he had been excitable and feverish, but that was as- cribed to the projected change in his habits, and the stern necessity for an occasional family intercommunication on the subject of money. He had a remarkable shyness of this theme, and reversed its general treatment ; for he would pay, but would not talk of it. If it had to be discussed with the ladies, he puffed, and blinked, and looked so much like a culprit that, though they rather admired him for what seemed to them the germ of a sense delicate above his condition, they would have said of any man they had not known so perfectly, that he had painful reasons for wishing to avoid it. Now that they spoke to him of Besworth, assuring him that they were serious in their desire to change their residence, the fit oi shyness was manifested, first in outrageous praise of Brook- field, which was speedily and inexplicably followed by a sort of implied assent to the proposition to depart from it. For Besworth displayed numerous advantages over Brook- field, and to contest one was to plunge headlong into the money question. He ventured to ask his daughters what good they expected from the change. They replied that it was simply this : that one might live fifty years at Brook- field and not get such a circle as in two might be estab- lished at Besworth. They were restricted. They had gather- ing friends, and no means of bringing them together. And the beauty of the site of Besworth made them enthusiastic. "Well, but," said Mr. Pole: "what does it lead to? Is there nothing to come after ? " He explained : " You're girls, you know. You won't always stop with me. You may do just as well at Brook- field for yourselves, as over there." The ladies blushed demurely. " You forecast very kindly for us, papa," said Cornelia "Our object is entirely different." " I wish I could see it," he returned. " But, you do see, papa, you do see," interposed Adela, " that a select life is preferable to that higgledy-piggledy city-square existence so many poor creatures are condemned to!" " Select ! " said Mr. Pole, thinking that he had hit upon a weakness in their argument ; " how can it be select when 94 EMILIA IN ENGLAND you want to go to a place where you may have a crowd about you ? " " Selection can only be made from a crowd," remarked Arabella, with terrible placidity. " It is where we see few that we are at the mercy of kind fortune for our acquaint- ances." "Don't you see, papa, that the difference between the aristocracy and the bourgeoisie is, that the former choose their sets, and the latter are obliged to take what comes to them ? " said Adela. This was the first domestic discussion upon Besworth. The visit to Richford had produced the usual effect on the ladies, who were now looking to other heights from that level. The ladies said: "We have only to press it with papa, and we shall quit this place." But at the second discussion they found that they had not advanced. The only change was in the emphasis that their father added to the interrogations already uttered. " What does it lead to ? What's to come after ? I see your object. But, am I to go into a new house for the sake of getting you out of it, and then be left there alone ? It's against your interests, too. Never mind how. Leave that to a business man. If your brother had proposed it .... but he's too reasonable." The ladies, upon this hint, wrote to Wilfrid to obtain his concurrence and assistance. He laughed when he read the simple sentence : " We hope you will not fancy that we have any peculiar personal interest in view ; " and replied to them that he was sure they had none : that he looked upon Bes- worth with favour, " and I may inform you," he pursued, ' that your taste is heartily applauded by Lady Charlotte Chillingworth, she bids me tell you." The letter was dated from Stornley, the estate of the marquis, Lady Charlotte's father. Her ladyship's brother was a member of Wilfrid's Club. " He calls Besworth the most habitable place in the county, and promises to be there as many months out of the twelve as you like to have him. I agree with him that Stornley can't hold a candle to it. There are three resi- dences in England that might be preferred to it, and, of those, two are ducal." The letter was a piece of that easy diplomacy which comes from habit The "of those, two are ducal," was masterly. THE BESWORTH QUESTION 95 It affected the imagination of Brookfield. " Which two ? " And could Besworth be brought to rival them ? Ultimately, it might be ! The neighbourhood to London, too, gave it noble advantages. Rapid relays of guests, and a metropoli- tan reputation for country attractions, would distinguish Besworth above most English houses. A house where all the chief celebrities might be encountered : a house under suave feminine rule ; a house, a home, to a chosen set, and a refreshing fountain to a widening circle ! "We have a dispute," they wrote playfully to Wilfrid, " a dispute we wish you or Lady Charlotte to settle. I, Arabella, know nothing of trout. I, Cornelia, know noth- ing of river-beds. I, Adela, know nothing of engineering. But, we are persuaded, the latter, that the river running for a mile through Besworth grounds may be deepened : we are persuaded, the intermediate, that the attempt will dam- age the channel: we are persuaded, the first, that all the fish will go." In reply, Wilfrid appeared to have taken them in earnest. "I rode over yesterday with Lady Charlotte," he said. " We think something might be done, without at all endan- gering the fish or spoiling the channel. At all events, the idea of making the mile of broad water serviceable for boats is too good to give up in a hurry. How about the dining-hall ? I told Lady Charlotte you were sure to insist upon a balcony for musicians. She laughed. You will like her when you know her." Thus the ladies of Brookfield were led on to be more serious concerning Besworth than they had thought of being, and began to feel that their honour was pledged to purchase this surpassing family seat. In a household where every want was supplied, and money as a topic utterly banished, it is not surprising that they should have had imperial views. Adela was Wilfrid's favoured correspondent. She de- scribed to him gaily the struggle with their papa. " But, if you care for Besworth, you may calculate on it. Or is it only for our sakes, as I sometimes think ? Besworth is won. Nothing but the cost of the place (to be con- sidered you know!) could withhold it from us; and of that papa has not uttered a syllable, though he conjures up 96 EMILIA IN ENGLAND every possible objection to a change of abode, and will not (perhaps, poor dear, cannot) see what we intend doing in the world. Now, you know that rich men invariably make the question of the cost their first and loudest outcry. I know that to be the case. They call it their blood. Papa seems indifferent to this part of the affair. He does not even allude to it. Still, we do not progress. It is just pos- sible that the Tinleys have an eye on beautiful Besworth. Their own place is bad enough, but good enough for them. Give them Besworth, and they will sit upon the neighbour- hood. We shall be invaded by everything that is mean and low, and a great chance will be gone for us. I think I may say, for the county. The country? Our advice is, that you write to papa one of your cleverest letters. We know, darling, what you can do with the pen as well as the sword. Write word that you have written." Wilfrid's reply stated that he considered it unadvisable that he should add his voice to the request, for the present. The ladies submitted to this quietly until they heard from their father one evening at dinner that he had seen Wilfrid in the city. "He doesn't waste his time like some young people I know," said Mr. Pole, with a wink. " Papa; is it possible ? " cried Adela. " Everything's possible, my dear." "Lady Charlotte?" " There is a Lady Charlotte." " Who would be Lady Charlotte still, whatever occurred ! " Mr. Pole laughed. "No, no. You get nothing out of me. All I say is, be practical. The sun isn't always shining." He appeared to be elated with some secret good news. "Have you been over to Besworth, the last two or three days ? " he asked. The ladies smiled radiantly, acknowledging Wilfrid's wonderful persuasive powers, in their hearts. "No, papa; we have not been," said Adela. "We are always anxious to go, as I think you know." The merchant chirped over his glass. "Well, well* There's a way." "Straight?" THE BESWOETH QUESTION 97 " Over a gate ; ha, ha ! " His gaiety would have been perplexing, but for the allu- sion to Lady Charlotte. The sisters, in their unfailing midnight consultation, per- suaded one another that Wilfrid had become engaged to that lady. They wrote forthwith Fine Shades to him on the subject. His answer was Boeotian, and all about Bes- worth. "Press it now," he said, "if you really want it. The iron is hot. And above all things, let me beg you not to be inconsiderate to the squire, when he and I are doing all we can for you. I mean, we are bound to consider him, if there should happen to be anything he wishes us to do." What could the word ' inconsiderate ' imply ? The ladies were unable to summon an idea to solve it. They were sure that no daughters could be more perfectly considerate and ready to sacrifice everything to their father. In the end, they deputed the volunteering Adela to sit with him in the library, and put the question of Besworth decisively, in the name of all. They, meantime, who had a contempt for sleep, waited aloft to hold debate over the result of the interview. An hour after midnight, Adela came to them, looking pale and uncertain : her curls seeming to drip, and her blue eyes wandering about the room, as if she had seen a thing that kept her in a quiver between belief and doubt. The two ladies drew near to her, expressing no verbal im- patience, from which the habit of government and great views naturally saved them, but singularly curious. Adela' s first exclamation: "I wish I had not gone," alarmed them. " Has any change come to papa ? " breathed Arabella. Cornelia smiled. " Do you not know him too well ? " An acute glance from Adela made her ask whether Bes- worth was to be surrendered. " Oh, no ! my dear. We may have Besworth." " Then, surely ! " " But, there are conditions ? " said Arabella. "Yes. Wilfrid's enigma is explained. Bella, that woman has seen papa." "What woman?" "Mrs. Chump." 98 w.MTT.TA IN ENGLAND " She has our permission to see him in town, if that is any consolation to her." " She has told him," continued Adela, " that no explana- tion, or whatever it may be, was received by her." " Certainly not, if it was not sent." " Papa," and Adela's voice trembled, " papa will not think of Besworth, not a word of it! until until we consent to welcome that woman here as our guest." Cornelia was the first u> break the silence that followed this astounding intelligence. " Then," she said, " Besworth is not to be thought of. You told him so ? " Adela's head drooped. " Oh ! " she cried, " what shall we do? We shall be a laughing-stock to the neighbourhood. The house will have to be locked up. We shall live like hermits worried by a demon. Her brogue! Do you re- member it ? It is not simply Irish. It's Irish steeped in brine. It's pickled Irish ! " She feigned the bursting into tears of real vexation. " You speak," said Cornelia, contemptuously, " as if we had very humbly bowed our heads to the infection." " Papa making terms with us ! " murmured Arabella. " Pray, repeat his words." Adela tossed her curls. " I will, as well as I can. I began by speaking of Besworth cheerfully ; saying, that if he really had no strong affection for Brookfield, that would make him regret quitting it, we saw innumerable advantages in the change of residence proposed. Predilection, not affection that was what I said. He replied that Besworth was a large place, and I pointed out that therein lay one of its principal merits. I expected what would come. He alluded to the possibility of our changing our condition. You know that idea haunts him. I told him our opinion of the folly of the thing. I noticed that he grew red in the face, and I said that of course marriage was a thing ordained, but that we objected to being submerged in matrimony until we knew who and what we were. I confess he did not make a bad reply, of its kind. You're like a youngster playing truant that he may gain knowledge.' What do you think of it ? " " A smart piece of City-speech," was Arabella's remark : Cornelia placidly observing, "Vulgarity never contains more than a minimum of the truth." THE BESWORTH QUESTION 99 " I said," Adela went on, " ' Think as you will, papa, we know we are right.' He looked really angry. He said, that we have the absurdest ideas you tell me to repeat his words of any girls that ever existed ; and then he put a question : listen : I give it without comment : ' I dare say, you all object to widows marrying again.' I kept myself quiet. 'Marrying again, papa! If they marry once they might as well marry a dozen times.' It was the best way to irritate him. I did not intend it ; that is all I can say. He jumped from his chair, rubbed his hair, and almost ran up and down the library floor, telling me that I prevaricated. 'You object to a widow marrying at all that's my ques- tion ! ' he cried out loud. Of course I contained my voice all the more. ' Distinctly, papa.' When I had spoken, I could scarcely help laughing. He went like a pony that is being broken in, crying, I don't know how many times, ' Why ? What's your reason ? ' You may suppose, darlings, that I declined to enter upon explanation. If a person is dense upon a matter of pure sentiment, there is no ground between us : he has simply a sense wanting. ' What has all this to do with Besworth ? ' I asked. ' A great deal more than you fancy,' was his answer. He seemed to speak every word at me in capital letters. Then, as if a little ashamed, he sat down, and reached out his hand to mine, and I saw his eyes were moist. I drew my chair nearer to him. Now, whether I did right or wrong in this, I do not know : I leave it en- tirely to your judgement. If you consider how I was placed, you will at all events excuse me. What I did was you know, the very farthest suspicion one has of an extreme possibility one does not mind mentioning : I said ' Papa, if it should so happen that money is the objection to Besworth, we will not trouble you.' At this, I can only say that he behaved like an insane person. He denounced me as wil- fully insulting him that I might avoid one subject. " " And what on earth can that be ? " interposed Arabella. " You may well ask. Could a genie have guessed that Mrs. Chump was at the bottom of it all ? The conclusion of the dreadful discussion is this, that papa offers to take the purchase of Besworth into his consideration, if we, as I said before, will receive Mrs. Chump as our honoured guest. I am bound to say, poor dear old man, he spoke kindly, as 100 EMILIA IN ENGLAND he always does, and kissed me, and offered to give me any- thing I might want. I came from him stupefied. I have hardly got my senses about me yet." The ladies caressed her, with grave looks ; but neither of them showed a perturbation of spirit like that which dis- tressed Adela. "Wilfrid's meaning is now explained," said Cornelia. " He is in league with papa ; or has given in his adhesion to papa's demands, at least. He is another example of the constant tendency in men to be what they call ' practical ' at the expense of honour and sincerity." "I hope not," said Arabella. "In any case, that need not depress you so seriously, darling." She addressed Adela. " Do you not see ? " Adela cried, in response. " What ! are you both blind to the real significance of papa's words ? I could not have believed it ! Or am I this time too acute ? I pray to heaven it may be so ! " Both ladies desired her to be explicit ; Arabella, eagerly j Cornelia with distrust. "The question of a widow marrying! What is this woman, whom papa wishes to force on us as our guest? Why should he do that ? Why should he evince anxiety with regard to our opinion of the decency of widows con- templating re-union ? Remember previous words and hints when we lived in the city ! " " This at least you may spare us," said Cornelia, ruffling offended. Adela smiled in tenderness for her beauty. " But, it is important, if we are following a track, dear. Think over it" " No !" cried Arabella. "It cannot be true. We might easily have guessed this, if we ever dreamed of impossi- bilities." " In such cases, when appearances lean in one direction, set principles in the opposite balance," added Cornelia. u What Adela apprehends may seem to impend, but we know that papa is incapable of doing it. To know that, shuts the gates of suspicion. She has allowed herself to be troubled by a ghastly nightmare." Adela believed in her own judgement too completely not THE BBS WORTH QUESTION 101 to be sure that her sisters were, perhaps unknowingly, dis- guising a slowness of perception they were ashamed of, by thus partially accusing her of giddiness. She bit her lip. " Very well ; if you have no fears whatever, you need not abandon the idea of Besworth." " I abandon nothing," said Arabella. " If I have to make a choice, I take that which is least objectionable. I am cha- grined, most, at the idea that Wilfrid has been treacherous." " Practical," Cornelia suggested. " You are not speaking of one of our sex." Questions were then put to Adela, whether Mr. Pole had spoken in the manner of one who was prompted : whether he hesitated as he spoke : whether, in short, Wilfrid was seen behind his tongue. Adela resolved that Wilfrid should have one protectress. " You are entirely mistaken in ascribing treachery to him," she said. " It is papa that is changed. You may suppose it to be without any reason, if you please. I would tell you to study him for yourselves, only I am convinced that these special private interviews are anything but good policy, and are strictly to be avoided, unless of course, as in the present instance, we have something directly to do." Toward dawn the ladies had decreed that it was policy to be quite passive, and provoke no word of Mrs. Chump by making any allusion to Besworth, and by fencing with the mention of the place. As they rarely failed to carry out any plan deliberately conceived by them, Mr. Pole was astonished to find that Besworth was altogether dropped. After certain scattered attempts to bring them upon Besworth, he shrugged, and resigned himself, but without looking happy. Indeed he looked so dismal that the ladies began to think he had a great longing for Besworth. And yet he did not go there, or even praise it to the discredit of Brookfield ! They were perplexed. " Let me ask you how it is," said Cornelia to Mr. Barrett, " that a person whom we know whose actions and motives are as plain to us as though discerned through a glass, should at times produce a completer mystification than any other creature ? Or have you not observed it ? " " I have had better opportunities of observing it than 102 EMILIA IN ENGLAND most people," Mr. Barrett replied, with one of his saddest amused smiles. " I have come to the conclusion that the person we know best is the one whom we never understand." " You answer me with a paradox." " Is it not the natural attendant on an assumption ? " " What assumption ? " "That you know a person thoroughly." "May we not?" " Do you, when you acknowledge this ' complete mystifi- cation ' ? " ;< Yes." Cornelia smiled when she had said it. " And no." Mr. Barrett, with his eyes on her, laughed softly. " Which is paradox at the fountain-head ! But, when we say we know anyone, we mean commonly that we are accustomed to his ways and habits of mind ; or, that we can reckon on the predominant influence of his appetites. Sometimes we can tell which impulse is likely to be the most active, and which principle the least restraining. The only knowledge to be trusted is a grounded or scientific study of the springs that move him, side by side with his method of moving the springs. If you fail to do this, you have two classes under your eyes : you have sane and mad- man : and it will seem to you that the ranks of the latter are constantly being swollen in an extraordinary manner. The customary impression, as we get older, is that our friends are the maddest people in the world. You see, we have grown accustomed to them ; and now, if they bewilder us, our judgement, in self-defence, is compelled to set them down lunatic." Cornelia bowed her stately head with gentle approving laughter. " They must go, or they despatch us thither," she said, while her fair face dimpled into serenity. The remark was of a lower nature than an intellectual discussion ordinarily drew from her : but could Mr. Barrett have read in her heart, he might have seen that his words were beginning to rob that organ of its native sobriety. So that when he spoke a cogent phrase, she was silenced, and became aware of a strange exultation in her blood that obscured grave thought. Cornelia attributed this display of mental weak- THE BBSWORTH QUESTION 103 ness altogether to Mr. Barrett's mental force. The inter- position of a fresh agency was undreamt of by the lady. Meanwhile, it was evident that Mr. Pole was a victim to one of his fevers of shyness. He would thrum on the table, frowning; and then, as he met the look of one of the ladies, try to disguise the thought in his head with a forced laugh. Occasionally, he would turn toward them, as if he had just caught a lost idea that was peculiarly precious. The ladies drawing up to attend to the communication, had a most trivial matter imparted to them, and away he went. Several times he said to them : " You don't make friends, as you ought ; " and their repudiation of the charge made him repeat : " You don't make friends home friends." " The house can be as full as we care to have it, papa." " Yes, acquaintances ! All very well, but I mean friends rich friends." " We will think of it, papa," said Adela, " when we want money." " It isn't that," he murmured. Adela had written to Wilfrid a full account of her inter- view with her father. Wilfrid's reply was laconic. "If you cannot stand a week of the brogue, give up Besworth, by all means." He made no further allusion to the place. They engaged an opera-box, for the purpose of holding a consultation with him in town. He wrote evasively, but did not appear, and the ladies, with Emilia between them, listened to every foot-fall by the box-door, and were too much preoccupied to marvel that Emilia was just as inat- tentive to the music as they were. When the curtain dropped they noticed her dejection. " What ails you ? " they asked. " Let us go out of London to-night," she whispered, and it was difficult to persuade her that she would see Brook- field again. " Remember," said Adela, " it is you that run away from us, not we from you." Soft chidings of this description were the only reproaches for her naughty conduct. She seemed contrite : very still and timid, since that night of adventure. The ladies were glad to observe it, seeing that it lent her an air of refine- ment, and proved her sensible to correction. 104 EMILIA IN ENGI/AND At last Mr. Pole broke the silence. He had returned from business, humming and rubbing his hands, like one newly primed with a suggestion that was the key of a knotty problem. Observant Adela said : " Have you seen Wilfrid, papa?" " Saw him in the morning," Mr. Pole replied carelessly. Mr. Barrett was at the table. " By the way, what do you think of our law of primogeni- ture ? " Mr. Pole addressed him. He replied with the usual allusion to a basis of aristocracy. " Well, it's the English system," said Mr. Pole. " That's always in its favour at starting. I'm Englishman enough to think that. There ought to be an entail of every decent bit of property, eh ? " It was observed that Mr. Barrett reddened as he said, " I certainly think that a young man should not be subject to his father's caprice." " Father's caprice ! That isn't common. But, if you're founding a family, you must entail." " We agree, sir, from my point of view, and from yours." "Knits the family bond, don't you think? I mean, makes the trunk of the tree firm. It makes the girls poor, though ! Mr. Barrett saw that he had some confused legal ideas in his head, and that possibly there were personal considera- tions in the background ; so he let the subject pass. When the guest had departed, Mr. Pole grew demonstra- tive in his paternal caresses. He folded Adela in one arm, and framed her chin in his fingers : marks of affection dear to her before she had outgrown them. " So ! " he said, "you've given up Besworth, have you? " At the name, Arabella and Cornelia drew nearer to his chair. "Given up Besworth, papa? It is not we who have given it up," said Adela. " Yes, you have ; and quite right too. You say, 'What's the use of it, for that's a sort of thing that always goes to the son.' " " Y u suppose, papa, that we indulge in ulterior calcula- tions ? came from Cornelia. "Well, you see, my love! no, I don't suppose it at all. THE BES WORTH QUESTION 105 But to buy a place and split it up after two or three years I dare say they wouldn't insure me for more, that's nonsense. And it seems unfair to you, as you must think " " Darling papa ! we are not selfish ! " it rejoiced Adela to exclaim. His face expressed a transparent simple-mindedness that won the confidence of the ladies and awakened their ideal of generosity. " I know what you mean, papa," said Arabella. " But, we love Bes worth ; and if we may enjoy the place for the time that we are all together, I shall think it sufficient. I do not look beyond." Her sisters echoed the sentiment, and sincerely. They were as little sordid as creatures could be. If deeply ques- tioned, it would have been found that their notion of the position Providence had placed them in (in other words, their father's unmentioned wealth), permitted them to be as lavish as they pleased. Mr. Pole had endowed them with a temperament similar to his own; and he had edu- cated it. In feminine earth it flourished wonderfully. Shy as himself, their shyness took other forms, and devel- oped with warm youth. Not only did it shut them up from others (which is the first effect of this disease), but it tyrannized over them internally : so that there were sub- jects they had no power to bring their minds to consider. Money was in the list. The Besworth question, as at pres- ent considered, involved the money question. All of them felt that ; father and children. It is not surprising, there- fore, that they hurried over it as speedily as they could, and by a most comical exhibition of implied comprehension of meanings and motives. " Of course, we're only in the opening stage of the busi- ness," said Mr. Pole. " There's nothing decided, you know. Lots of things got to be considered. You mean what you say, do you? Very well. And you want me to think of it ? So I will. And look, my dears, you know that " (here his voice grew husky, as was the case with it when touching a shy topic even beneath the veil ; but they were above suspicion) "you know that a that we must all give way a little to the other, now and then. Nothing like being kind." IN ENGLAND " Pray, have no fear, papa dear ! " rang the clear voice of Arabella. , ., . ,. Well, then, you're all for Besworth, even though it isn t exactly for your own interest ? All right." The ladies kissed him. We'll each stretch a point," he continued. We shall get on better if we do. Much! You're a little hard on people who're not up to the mark. There's an end to that. Even your old father will like you better." These last remarks were unintelligible to the withdrawing ladies. On the morning that followed, Mr. Pole expressed a hope that his daughters intended to give him a good dinner that day ; and he winked humorously and kindly : by which they understood him to be addressing a sort of propitiation to them for the respect he paid to his appetite. " Papa," said Adela, " I myself will speak to Cook." She added, with a smile thrown to her sisters, without looking at them, "I dare say she will know who I am." Mr. Pole went down to his wine-cellar, and was there busy with bottles till the carriage came for him. A bason was fetched that he might wash off the dust and cobwebs in the passage. Having rubbed his hands briskly with soap, he dipped his head likewise, in an oblivious fit, and then turn- ing round to the ladies, said, " What have I forgotten ? " looking woebegone with his dripping vacant face. " Oh, ah ! I remember now ; " and he chuckled gladly. He had just for one moment forgotten that he was acting, and a pang of apprehension had caught him when the water covered his face, to the effect that he must forfeit the natural artistic sequence of speech and conduct which disguised him o perfectly. Away he drove, nodding and waving his hand. " Dear, simple, innocent old man ! " was the pitiful thought in the bosoms of the ladies ; and if it was accompanied by the mute exclamation, "How singular that we should de- scend from him ! " it would not have been for the first time. They passed one of their delightful quiet days, in which they paved the future with gold, and, if I may use so bold a figure, lifted parasols against the great sun that was to shine on them. Now they listened to Emilia, and now strolled in the garden ; conversed on the social skill of Lady Gosstre, who THE BESWORTH QUESTION 107 was nevertheless narrow in her range ; and on the capacities of mansions, on the secret of mixing people in society, and what to do with the women ! A terrible problem, this latter one. Not terrible (to hostesses) at a mere rout or drum, or at a dance pure and simple, but terrible when you want good talk to circulate : for then they are not, as a body, amused ; and when they are not amused, you know, they are not inclined to be harmless ; and in this state they are vipers ; and where is society then ? And yet you cannot do without them ! which is the revolving mystery. I need not say that I am not responsible for these critical remarks. Such tenderness to the sex comes only from its sisters. So went a day rich in fair dreams to the ladies ; and at tnt> hour of their father's return they walked across the parvenu park, in a state of enthusiasm for Besworth, that threw some portion of its decorative light on the donor of Besworth. When his carriage was heard on the road, they stood fast, and greeted his appearance with a display of pocket-handker- chiefs in the breeze, a proceeding that should have astonished him, being novel ; but seemed not to do so, for it was imme- diately responded to by the vigorous waving of a pair of pocket-handkerchiefs from the carriage- window ! The ladies smiled at this piece of simplicity which prompted him to use both his hands, as if one would not have been enough. Com- placently they continued waving. Then Adela looked at her sisters ; Cornelia's hand dropped : and Arabella, the last to wave, was the first to exclaim : " That must be a woman's arm!" The carriage stopped at the gate, and it was one in the dress of a woman at least, and of the compass of a big woman, who descended by the aid of Mr. Pole. Safely alighted, she waved her pocket-handkerchief afresh. The ladies of Brook- field did not speak to one another ; nor did they move their eyes from the object approaching. A simultaneous furtive extinction of three pocket-handkerchiefs might have been noticed. There was no further sign given. 108 EMILIA IN ENGLAND CHAPTER XV WILFRID'S EXHIBITION OF TREACHERY A LETTER from Brookfield apprised Wilfrid that Mr. Pole had brought Mrs. Chump to the place as a visitor, and that she was now in the house. Formal as a circular, the idea of it appeared to be that the bare fact would tell him enough and inspire him with proper designs. No reply being sent, a second letter arrived, formal too, but pointing out his duty to succour his afflicted family, and furnishing a few tragic particulars. Thus he learnt, that while Mr. Pole was ad- vancing toward the three grouped ladies, on the day of Mrs. Chump's arrival, he called Arabella by name, and Arabella went forward alone, and was engaged in conversation by Mrs. Chump. Mr. Pole left them to make his way to Adela and Cornelia. '''Now, mind, I expect you to keep to your agreement," he said. Gradually they were led on to perceive that this simple-minded man had understood their recent talk of Besworth to signify a consent to the stipulation he had previously mentioned to Adela. " Perfect simplicity is as deceiving as the depth of cunning," Adela despairingly wrote, much to Wilfrid's amusement. A third letter followed. It was of another tenor, and ran thus, in Adela's handwriting: "Mr DARLING WILFRID, "We have always known that some peculiar assistance would never be wanting in our extremity aid, or comfort, or whatever you please to call it. At all events, something to show we are not neglected. That old notion of ours must be I shall say nothing of our sufferings in the house. They continue. Yesterday, papa came from town, looking He had up some of his best wine for dinner. All through the service his eyes were sparkling on Cornelia. 1 spare you a family picture, while there is this huge blot on it Naughty brother ! But, listen ! your place is here, for iany reasons, as you will be quick enough to see. After nner, papa took Cornelia into the library alone, and they WILFRID'S EXHIBITION OF TREACHERY 109 were together for ten minutes. She came out very pale. She has been proposed for by Sir Twickenham Pryme, our Member for the borough. I have always been sure that Cornelia was born for Parliament, and he will be lucky if he wins her. We know not yet, of course, what her decision will be. The incident is chiefly remarkable to us as a relief to what I need not recount to you. But I wish to say one thing, dear Wilfrid. You are gazetted to a lieutenancy, and we congratulate you : but what I have to say is apparently much more trifling, and it is, that will you take it to heart ? it would do Arabella and myself infinite good if we saw a little more of our brother, and just a little less of a very gentlemanly organ-player phenomenon, who talks so exceeding well. He is a very pleasant man, and appreciates our ideas, and so forth; but it is our duty to love our brother best, and think of him foremost, and we wish him to come and remind us of our duty. " At our Cornelia's request, with our concurrence, papa is silent in the house as to the purport of the communication made by Sir T. P. " By the way, are you at all conscious of a sound-like absurdity in a Christian name of three syllables preceding a surname of one ? Sir Twickenham Pryme ! Cornelia's pro- nunciation of the name first gave me the feeling. The ' Twickenham ' seems to perform a sort of educated-monkey kind of ridiculously decorous pirouette and entrechat before the ' Pryme.' I think that Cornelia feels it also. You seem to fancy elastic limbs bending to the measure of a solemn church-organ. Sir Timothy ? But Sir Timothy does not jump with the same grave agility as Sir Twickenham ! If she rejects him, it will be half attributable to this. " My own brother ! I expect no confidences, but a whis- per warns me that you have not been to Stornley twice without experiencing the truth of our old discovery, that the Poles are magnetic. Why should we conceal it from our- selves, if it be so ? I think it a folly, and fraught with danger, for people not to know their characteristics. If they attract, they should keep in a circle where they will have no reason to revolt at, or say, repent of what they attract. My argumentative sister does not coincide. If she did, she would lose her argument. HO EMILIA IN ENGLAND " Adieu ! Such is my dulness, I doubt whether I hare my meaning clear. " Your thrice affectionate " ADELA. p.8. Lady Gosstre has just taken Emilia to Richford for a week. Papa starts for Bidport to-morrow." This short and rather bruit exercise in Fine Shades was read impatiently by Wilfrid. " Why doesn't she write plain to the sense ? " he asked, with the usual injustice of men, who demand a statement of facts, forgetting how few there are to feed the post ; and that indication and suggestion are the only language for the multitude of facts unborn and possible. Twilight best shows to the eye what may be. " I suppose I must go down there," he said to himself, keeping a meditative watch on the postscript, as if it pos- sessed the capability of slipping away and deceiving him. "Does she mean that Cornelia sees too much of this man Barrett ? or, what does she mean ? " And now he saw meanings in the simple passages, and none at all in the intricate ones ; and the double-meanings were monsters that ate one another up till nothing remained of them. In the end, however, he made a wrathful guess and came to a reso- lution, which brought him to the door of the house next day at noon. He took some pains in noting the exact spot where he had last seen Emilia half in moonlight, and then dismissed her image peremptorily. The house was appar- ently empty. Gainsford, the footman, gave information that he thought the ladies were upstairs, but did not volunteer to send a maid to them. He stood in deferential footman's attitude, with the aspect of a dog who would laugh if he could, but being a footman out of his natural element, cannot. " Here's a specimen of the new plan of treating servants ! " thought Wilfrid, turning away. " To act a farce for their benefit ! That fellow will explode when he gets downstairs. I see how it is. This woman, Chump, is making them behave like schoolgirls." He conceived the idea sharply, and forthwith, without any preparation, he was ready to treat these high-aspiring ladies like schoolgirls. Nor was there a lack of justification; for WILFRID'S EXHIBITION OF TREACHERY 111 when they came down to his shouts in the passage, they hushed, and held a finger aloft, and looked altogether so unlike what they aimed at being, that Wilfrid's sense of mastery became almost contempt. "I know perfectly what you have to tell me," he said. " Mrs. Chump is here, you have quarrelled with her, and she has shut her door, and you have shut yours. It's quite intelligible and full of dignity. I really can't smother my voice in consequence." He laughed with unnecessary abandonment. The sensi- tive young women wanted no other schooling to recover themselves. In a moment they were seen leaning back and contemplating him amusedly, as if he had been the comic spectacle, and were laughing for a wager. There are few things so sour as the swallowing of one's own forced laugh. Wilfrid got it down, and commenced a lecture to fill the awkward pause. His sisters maintained the opera-stall post- ure of languid attention, contesting his phrases simply with their eyebrows, and smiling. He was no match for them while they chose to be silent : and indeed if the business of life were conducted in dumb show, women would beat men hollow. They posture admirably. In dumb show they are equally good for attack and defence. But this is not the case in speech. So, when Arabella explained that their hope was to see Mrs. Chump go that day, owing to the rigorous exclusion of all amusement and the outer world from the house, Wilfrid regained his superior footing and made his lecture tell. In the middle of it, there rang a cry from the doorway that astonished even him, it was so powerfully Irish. " The lady you have called down is here," said Arabella's cold glance, in answer to his. They sat with folded hands while Wilfrid turned to Mrs. Chump, who advanced, a shock of blue satin to the eye, crying, on a jump : " Is ut Mr. Wilfrud ? " " It's I, ma'am." Wilfrid bowed, and the censorious ladies could not deny that his style was good, if his object was tc be familiar. And if that was his object, he was paid for it. A great thick kiss was planted on his cheek, with the motto: " Harm to them that thinks ut." Wilfrid bore the salute like a man who presumes that he is flattered. 112 EMILIA IN ENGLAND " And it's you ! " said Mrs. Chump. " I was just off. I'm packed, and bonnutted, and ready for a start ; becas, my dear, where there's none but women, I don't think it natural to stop. You're splendud ! How a little fella like Pole could go and be father to such a mighty big son, with your bit of moustache and your blue eyes! Are they blue or a bit of grey in 'em ? " Mrs. Chump peered closely. " They're kill'n', let their colour be annyhow. And I that knew ye when ye were no bigger than my garter ! Oh, sir ! don't talk of ut; I'll be thinkin' of my coffin. Ye're glad to see me ? Say, yes. Do ! " " Very glad," quoth Wilfrid. " Upon your honour, now ? " " Upon my honour ! " "My dears" (Mrs. Chump turned to the ladies), "I'll stop ; and just thank your brother for't, though you can't help being garls." Reduced once more to demonstrate like schoolgirls by this woman, the ladies rose together, and were retiring, when Mrs. Chump swung round and caught Arabella's hand. "See heer," she motioned to Wilfrid. Arabella made a bitter effort to disengage herself. " See, now ! It's jeal'sy of me, Mr. Wilf rud, becas I'm a widde and just an abom'nation to garls, poor darlin's ! And twenty shindies per dime we've been havin', and me such a placable body, if ye'll onnly let m' explode. I'm all powder, avery bit! and might ha' been christened Saltpetre, if born a boy. She hasn't so much as a shot to kill a goose, says Chump, poor fella ! But he went, annyway. I must kiss somebody when I talk of 'm. Mr. Wilfrud, I'll take the girls, and entitle myself to you." Arabella was the first victim. Her remonstrance was inar- ticulate. Cornelia's " Madam ! " was smothered. Adela behaved better, being more consciously under Wilfrid's eye ; she prepared her pocket-handkerchief, received the salute, and deliberately effaced it. " There ! " said Mrs. Chump ; " duty to begin with. And now for you, Mr. Wilfrud." The ladies escaped. Their misery could not be conveyed to the mind. The woman was like a demon come among them. They felt chiefly degraded, not by her vulgarity, but by their inability to cope with it, and by the consequent WILFRID'S EXHIBITION OF TREACHERY 113 sickening sense of animal inefficiency the block that was put to all imaginative delight in the golden hazy future they figured for themselves, and which was their wine of life. An intellectual adversary they could have combated ; this huge brogue-burring engine quite overwhelmed them. Wilfrid's worse than shameful behaviour was a common rallying-point ; and yet, so absolutely critical were they by nature, their blame of him was held mentally in restraint by the superior ease of his manner as contrasted with their own lamentably silly awkwardness. Highly civilized natures do sometimes, and keen wits must always, feel dissatisfied when they are not on the laughing side: their dread of laughter is an instinctive respect for it. Dinner brought them all together again. Wilfrid took hif father's seat, facing his Aunt Lupin, and increased the distress of his sisters by his observance of every duty of a host to the dreadful intruder, whom he thus established among them. He was incomprehensible. His visit to Stornley had wrought in him a total change. He used to like being petted, and would regard everything as right that his sisters did, before he went there ; and was a languid, long-legged, indifferent cavalier, representing men to them : things made to be managed, snubbed, admired, but always virtually subservient and in the background. Now, without perceptible gradation, his superiority was suddenly manifest ; so that, irritated and apprehensive as they were, they could not, by the aid of any of their intricate mental machinery, look down on him. They tried to ; they tried hard to think him despicable as well as treacherous. His style was too good. When he informed Mrs. Chump that he had hired a yacht for the season, and added, after enlarging on the merits of the vessel, " I am under your orders," his sisters were as creatures cut in twain one half abominating his conduct, the other approving his style. The bow, the smile, were perfect. The ladies had to make an effort to recover their condemnatory judgement. " Oh ! " cried Mrs. Chump ; " and if you've got a yacht, Mr. Wilf rud, won't ye have a great parcel o' the arr'stocracy on board ? " "You may spy a title by the aid of a telescope," said Wilfrid. " And I'm to come, I am ? n 114 EMILIA IN ENGLAND " Are you not elected captain ? " " Oh, if ye've got lords and real ladus on board, I'll come, be sure of ut ! I'll be as sick as a cat, I will. But, I'll come, if it's the rroon of my stomach. I'd say to Chump, ' Oh, if ye'd onnly been born a lord, or would just get yourself struck a knight on one o' your shoulders, oh, Chump ! ' I'd say, ' it wouldn't be necessary to be rememberin' always the words of the cerr'mony about lovin' and honourin' and obeyin' of a little whistle of a fella like you.' Poor lad ! he couldn't stop for his luck ! Did ye ask me to take wine, Mr. Wilfrud ? I'll be cryin', else, as a widde should, ye know ! " Frequent administrations of wine arrested the tears of Mrs. Chump, until it is possible that the fulness of many a checked flow caused her to redden and talk slightly at random. At the first mention of their father's name, the ladies went out from the room. It was foolish, for they might have watched the effect of certain vinous innuendoes addressed to Wilfrid's apprehensiveness ; but they were weakened and humbled, and everything they did was foolish. From the fact that they offended their keen critical taste, moreover, they were targets to the shaft that wounds more fatally than all. No ridicule knocks the strength out of us so thoroughly as our own. Whether or not he guessed their condition favourable for his plans, Wilfrid did not give them time to call back their scattered powers. At the hour of eleven he sent for Arabella to come to him in the library. The council upstairs per- mitted Arabella to go, on the understanding that she was prepared for hostilities, and ready to tear the mask from Wilfrid's face. He commenced, without a shadow of circumlocution, and in a matter-of-fact way, as if all respect for the peculiar genius of the house of Pole had vanished ; "I sent for you to talk a word or two about this woman, who, I see, troubles you a little. I'm sorry she's in the house." ' Indeed ! " said Arabella. "I'm sorry she's in the house, not for my sake, but for yours, since the proximity does not seem to ... I needn't explain. It comes of your eternal consultations. You are the eldest. Why not act according to your judgement, which is generally sound ? You listen to Adela, young as she is ; WILFRID'S EXHIBITION OF TREACHERY 115 or a look of Cornelia's leads you. The result is the sort of scene I saw this afternoon. I confess it has changed my opinion of you ; it has, I grieve to say it. This woman is your father's guest ; you can't hurt her so much as you hurt him, if you misbehave to her. You can't openly object to her and not cast a slur upon him. There is the whole case. He has insisted, and you must submit. You should have fought the battle before she came." " She is here, owing to a miserable misconception," said Arabella. " Ah ! she is here, however. That is the essential, as your old governess Madame Timpan would have said." " Nor can a protest against coarseness be sweepingly inter- preted as a piece of unfilial behaviour," said Arabella. " She is coarse," Wilfrid nodded his head. " There are some forms of coarseness which dowagers would call it coarseness to notice." " Not if you find it locked up in the house with you not if you siiffer under a constant repulsion. Pray, do not use these phrases to me, Wilfrid. An accusation of coarseness cannot touch us." " No, certainly," assented Wilfrid. " And you have a right to protest. I disapprove the form of your protest nothing more. A schoolgirl's . . . but you complain of the use of comparisons." " I complain, Wilfrid, of your want of sympathy." " That for two or three weeks you must hear a brogue at your elbow ? The poor creature is not so bad ; she is good- hearted. It's hard that you should have to bear with her for that time and receive nothing better than Besworth as your reward." " Very ; seeing that we endure the evil and decline the sop with it." "How?" " We have renounced Besworth." " Have you ! And did this renunciation make you all sit on the edge of your chairs, this afternoon, as if Edward Buxley had arranged you ? You give up Besworth ? I'm afraid it's too late." " Oh, Wilfrid ! can you be ignorant that something more is involved in the purchase of Besworth ? " 116 EMILIA IN ENGLAND Arabella gazed at him with distressful eagerness, as one who believes in the lingering of a vestige of candour. " Do you mean that my father may wish to give this woman his name ? " said Wilfrid, coolly. " You have sense enough to know that if you make his home disagreeable, you are taking the right method to drive him into such a course. Ha ! I don't think it's to be feared, unless you pursue these con- sultations. And let me say, for my part, we have gone too far about Besworth, and caa't recede." "Why?" " I have given out everywhere that the place is ours. I did so almost at your instigation. Besworth was nothing to me till you cried it up. And now I won't detain you. I know I can rely on your sense, if you will rely on it. Good night, Bella." As she was going, a faint tpark of courage revived Ara- bella's wits. Seeing that she was now ready to speak, he opened the door wide, and she kissed him and went forth, feeling driven. But while Arabella was attempting to give a definite version of the interview to her sisters, a message came requesting Adela to descend. The ladies did not allow her to depart until two or three ingenuous exclamations from her made them share her curiosity. " Ah ? " Wilfrid caught her hand as she came in. " No, I don't intend to let it go. You may be a fine lady, but you're a rogue, you know, and a charming one, as I hear a friend of mine has been saying. Shall I call him out ? Shall I fight him with pistols, or swords, and leave him bleeding on the ground, because he thinks you a pretty rogue ? " Adela struggled against the blandishment of this old familiar style of converse part fun, part flattery dis- missed since the great idea had governed Brookfield. " Please tell me what you called me down for, dear ? " : To give you a lesson in sitting on chairs. l Adela, or the Puritan sister,' thus: you sit on the extremest edge, and your eyes peruse the ceiling ; and . . ." "Oh! will you ever forget that perfectly ridiculous Adela cried in anguish. She was led by easy stages to talk of Besworth. Understand," said Wilfrid, "that I am indifferent about WILFRID'S EXHIBITION OF TREACHERY 117 it. The idea sprang from you I mean from my pretty sister Adela, who is President of the Council of Three. I hold that young woman responsible for all that they do. Am I wrong ? Oh, very well. You suggested Besworth, at all events. And if we quarrel, I shall cut off one of your curls." " We never will quarrel, my darling," quoth Adela, softly. " Unless " she added. Wilfrid kissed her forehead. " Unless what ? " " Well, then, you must tell me who it is that talks of me in that objectionable manner ; I do not like it." " Shall I convey that intimation ? " " I choose to ask, simply that I may defend myself." "I choose to keep him buried, then, simply to save his life." Adela made a mouth, and Wilfrid went on : " By the way, I want you to know Lady Charlotte ; you will take to one another. She likes you, already says you want dash ; but on that point there may be two opinions." " If dash," said Adela, quite beguiled, " that is, dash ! what does it mean ? But, if Lady Charlotte means by dash am I really wanting in it ? I should define it, the quality of being openly natural without vulgarity; and surely . . . ! " " Then you two differ a little, and must meet and settle your dispute. You don't differ about Besworth : or, didn't. I never saw a woman so much in love with a place as she is." " A place ? " emphasized Adela. " Don't be too arch. I comprehend. She won't take me minus Besworth, you may be sure." " Did you, Wilfrid ! but you did not offer yourself as owner of Besworth ? " Wilfrid kept his eyes slanting on the floor. "Now I see why you should still wish it," continued Adela. " Perhaps you don't know the reason which makes it impossible, or I would say Bacchus ! it must be com- passed. You remember your old schoolboy oath which you taught me ? We used to swear always, by Bacchus ! " Adela laughed and blushed, like one who petitions pardon for this her utmost sin, that is not regretted as it should be. "Mrs. Chump again, isn't it?" said Wilfrid. "Pole EMILIA IN ENGLAND would be a preferable name. If she has the ambition, it elevates her. And it would be rather amusing to see the dear old boy in love." Adela gave her under-lip a distressful bite. "Why do you, Wilfrid why treat such matters with levity?" " Levity ? I am the last to treat ninety thousand pounds with levity." " Has she so much ? " Adela glanced at him. " She will be snapped up by some poor nobleman. If I take her down to the yacht, one of Lady Charlotte's brothers or uncles will bite, to a certainty." "It would be an excellent idea to take her!" cried Adela. " Excellent ! and I'll do it, if you like." " Could you bear the reflex of the woman ? " " Don't you know that I am not in the habit of sitting on the extreme edge . . . ? " Adela started, breathing piteously: "Wilfrid, dear! you want something of me what is it ? " " Simply that you should behave civilly to your father's guest." "I had a fear, dear; but I think too well of you to enter- tain it for a moment. If civility is to win Besworth for you, there is my hand." "Be civil that's all," said Wilfrid, pressing the hand given. " These consultations of yours and acting in concert one tongue for three women are a sort of missish, un- ripe nonsense, that one sees only in bourgeoise girls eh ? Give it up. Lady Charlotte hit on it at a glance." " And I, my chameleon brother, will return her the com- pliment, some day," Adela said to herself, as she hurried back to her sisters, bearing a message for Cornelia. This lady required strong persuasion. A word from Adela: " He will think you have some good reason to deny him a private interview," sent her straight to the stairs. Wilfrid was walking up and down, with his arms folded and his brows bent. Cornelia stood in the doorway. " You desire to speak to me, Wilfrid ? And in private ? " " I didn't wish to congratulate you publicly, that's all. I know it's rather against your taste. We'll shut the door, WILFRID'S EXHIBITION OF TREACHERY 119 and sit down, if you don't mind. Yes, I congratulate you with all my heart," he said, placing a chair for Cornelia. " May I ask, wherefore ? " " You don't think marriage a matter for congratulation ? " " Sometimes : as the case may be." " Well, it's not marriage yet. I congratulate you on your offer." " I thank you." " You accept it, of course." " I reject it, certainly." After this preliminary passage, Wilfrid remained silent long enough for Cornelia to feel uneasy. " I want you to congratulate me also," he recommenced. " We poor fellows don't have offers, you know. To be frank, I think Lady Charlotte Chillingworth will have me, if She's awfully fond of Besworth, and I need not tell you that as she has position in the world, I ought to show some- thing in return. When you wrote about Besworth, I knew it was as good as decided. I told her so and Well, I fancy there's that sort of understanding between us. She will have me when . . . You know how the poorer mem- bers of the aristocracy are situated. Her father's a peer, and has a little influence. He might push me ; but she is one of a large family ; she has nothing. I am certain you will not judge of her as common people might. She does me a particular honour." " Is she not much older than you, Wilfrid ? " said Cornelia. " Or, in other words," he added, " is she not a very mer- cenary person ? " " That, I did not even imply." " Honestly, was it not in your head ? " " Now you put it so plainly, I do say, it strikes me dis- agreeably ; I have heard of nothing like it." " Do you think it unreasonable that I should marry into a noble family ? " " That is, assuredly, not my meaning." " Nevertheless, you are, on the whole, in favour of beg- garly alliances." "No, Wilfrid." " Why do you reject this offer that has been made to you ? " Cornelia flushed and trembled; the traitorous feint had 120 EMILIA IN ENGLAND thrown her off her guard. She said, faltering : " Would you have me marry one I do not love ? " " Well, well ! " He drew back. " You are going to do your best to stop the purchase of Besworth ? " " No ; I am quiescent." " Though I tell you how deeply it concerns me ! " " Wilfrid, my own brother ! " (Cornelia flung herself be- fore him, catching his hand,) " I wish you to be loved, first of all. Think of the horror of a loveless marriage, however gilded ! Does a woman make stipulations ere she gives her hand ? Does not love seek to give, to bestow ? I wish you to marry well, but chiefly that you should be loved." Wilfrid pressed her head in both his hands. " I never saw you look so handsome," he said. " You've got back your old trick of blushing, too! Why do you tremble ? By the way, you seem to have been learning a great deal about that business, lately ? " " What business ? " " Love." A river of blood overflowed her fair cheeks. " How long has this been ? " his voice came to her. There was no escape. She was at his knees, and must- look up, or confess guilt. "This?" " Come, my dearest girl ! " Wilfrid soothed her. " I can help you, and will, if you'll take advice. I've always known your heart was generous and tender, under that ice you wear so well. How long has this been going on ? " "Wilfrid!" " You want plain speech ? " She wanted that still less. "We'll call it 'this,'" he said. "I have heard of it, guessed it, and now see it. How far have you pledged yourself in < this ? ' " " How far ? " Wilfrid held silent. Finding that her echo was not ac- cepted as an answer, she moaned his name lovingly. It iched his heart, where a great susceptibility to passion ay. As if the ghost of Emilia were about him, he kissed ister's hand, and could not go on with his cruel inter- rogations. WILFRID'S EXHIBITION OF TREACHERY 121 His next question was dew of relief to her. " Has your Emilia been quite happy, of late ? " " Oh, quite, dear ! very. And sings with more fire." "She's cheerful?" " She's does not romp. Her eyes are full and bright." " She's satisfied with everything here ? " " How could she be otherwise ? " " Yes, yes ! You weren't severe on her for that escapade I mean, when she ran away from Lady Gosstre's ? " "We scarcely alluded to the subject, or permitted her to." " Or permitted her to ! " Wilfrid echoed, with a grimace. " And she's cheerful now ? " " Quite." " I mean, she doesn't mope ? " " Why should she ? " Cornelia had been too hard-pressed to have suspicion: the questions were an immense relief. Wilfrid mused gloomily. Cornelia spoke further of Emi- lia, and her delight in the visits of Mr. Powys, who spent hours with her, like a man fascinated. She flowed on, little aware that she was fast restoring to Wilfrid all his judicial severity. He said, at last: "I suppose there's no engagement existing ? " " Engagement ? " " You have not, what they call, plighted your troth to the man ? " Cornelia struggled for evasion. She recognized the fruit- lessness of the effort, and abandoning it stood up. " I am engaged to no one." "Well, I should hope not," said Wilfrid. "An engage- ment might be broken." "Not by me." "It might, is all that I say. A romantic sentiment is tougher. Now, I have been straightforward with you : will you be with me ? I shall not hurt the man, or wound his feelings." He paused ; but it was to find that no admission of the truth, save what oozed out in absence of speech, was to be expected. She seemed, after the fashion of women, to have got accustomed to the new atmosphere into which 122 EMILIA IN ENGLAND he had dragged her, without any conception of a forward movement. " I see I must explain to you how we are situated," said Wilfrid. " We are in a serious plight. You should be civil to this woman for several reasons for your father's sake and your own. She is very rich." Oh, Wilfrid ! " u Well, I find money well thought of everywhere." "Has your late school been good for you?" " This woman, I repeat, is rich, and we want money. Oh ! not the ordinary notion of wanting money, but the more we have the more power we have. Our position depends on it." " Yes, if we can be tempted to think so," flashed Cornelia. "Our position depends on it. If you posture, and are poor, you provoke ridicule : and to think of scorning money is a piece of folly no girls of condition are guilty of. Now, you know I am fond of you ; so I'll tell you this : you have a chance ; don't miss it. Something unpleasant is threaten- ing ; but you may escape it. It would be madness to throw such a chance away, and it is your duty to take advantage of it. What is there plainer ? You are engaged to no one." Cornelia came timidly close to him. "Pray, be explicit ! " "Well! this offer." * Yes; but what there is something to escape from." Wilfrid deliberately replied : " There is no doubt of the Pater's intentions with regard to Mrs. Chump." " He means . . . ? " " He means to marry her." "And you, Wilfrid?" " Well, of course, he cuts me out. There there ! forgive me : but what can I do ? " " Do you conspire Wilfrid, is it possible ? are you an accomplice in the degradation of our house ? " Cornelia had regained her courage, perforce of wrath. Wilfrid's singular grey eye shot an odd look at her. He is to be excused for not perceiving the grandeur of the struct- ure menaced ; for it was invisible to all the world, though a real fabric. "If Mrs. Chump were poor, I should think the Pater iemented," he said. "As it is ! well, as it is, there's grwt to the mill, wind to the organ. You must be aware " HOW THE LADIES CAME TO THEIR RESOLVE 123 (and he leaned over to her with his most suspicious gentle- ness of tone) " you are aware that all organs must be fed ; but you will make a terrible mistake if you suppose for a moment that the human organ requires the same sort of feeding as the one in Hillford Church." "Good night," said Cornelia, closing her lips, as if for good. Wilfrid pressed her hand. As she was going, the springs of kindness in his heart caused him to say : " Forgive me, if I seemed rough." "Yes, dear Wilfrid; even brutality, rather than your exultation over the wreck of what was noble in you." With which phrase Cornelia swept from the room. CHAPTER XVI HOW THE LADIES OF BKOOKFIELD CAME TO THEIR RESOLVE " SEEN Wilfrid ? " was Mr. Pole's first cheery call to his daughters, on his return. An answer on that head did not seem to be required by him, for he went on : " Ah ! the boy's improved. That place over there, Stomley, does him as much good as the Army did, as to setting him up, you know; common sense, and a ready way of speaking and thinking. He sees a thing now. Well, Martha, what do you, eh ? what's your opinion ? " Mrs. Chump was addressed. " Pole," she said, fanning her cheek with vehement languor, "don't ask me! my heart's gone to the young fella." In pursuance of a determination to which the ladies of Brookfield had come, Adela, following her sprightly fancy, now gave the lead in affability toward Mrs. Chump. " Has the conqueror run away with it to bury it ? " she laughed. " Och ! won't he know what it is to be a widde ! " cried Mrs. Chump. " A widde's heart takes aim and flies straight as a bullet ; and the hearts o' you garls, they're like whiffs o' tobacca, curlin' and wrigglin' and not knowin' where 124 EMILIA IN ENGLAND they're goin'. Marry 'em, Pole ! marry 'em ! " Mrs. Chump gesticulated, with two dangling hands. " They're nice garls ; but, Lord ! they naver see a man, and they're stuputly con- tented, and want to remain garls ; and, don't ye see, it was naver meant to be ? Says I to Mr. Wilfrud (and he agreed with me), ye might say, nice sour grapes, as well as nice garls, if the creatures think o' stoppin' where they are, and what they are. It's horrud; and, upon my honour, my heart aches for 'm ! " Mr. Pole threw an uneasy side-glance of inquisition at his daughters, to mark how they bore this unaccustomed lan- guage, and haply intercede between the unworthy woman and their judgement of her. But the ladies merely smiled. Placidly triumphant in its endurance, the smile said : " We decline even to feel such a martyrdom as this." "Well, you know, Martha; I," he said, "I no father could wish eh ? if you could manage to persuade them not to be so fond of me. They must think of their future, of course. They won't always have a home a father, a father, I mean. God grant they may never want! eh? the dinner ; boh ! let's in to dinner. Ma'am ! " He bowed an arm to Mrs. Chump, who took it, with a scared look at him : " Why, if ye haven't got a tear in your eye, Pole?" "Nonsense, nonsense," quoth he, bowing another arm to Adela. " Papa, I'm not to be winked at," said she, accepting con- voy ; and there was some laughter, all about nothing, as they went in to dinner. The ladies were studiously forbearing in their treatment of Mrs. Chump. Women are wonderfully quick scholars under ridicule, though it half-kills them. Wilfrid's theory had impressed the superior grace of civility upon their minds, and, now that they practised it, they were pleased with the contrast they presented. Not the less were they maturing a serious resolve. The suspicion that their father had secret vile designs in relation to Mrs. Chump, they kept n the background. It was enough for them that she was > be a visitor, and would thus destroy the great circle they had projected. To accept her in the circle, they felt, was out of the question. Wilfrid's plain-speaking broke up the HOW THE LADIES CAME TO THEIR RESOLVE 125 air-bubble, which they had so carefully blown, and in which they had embarked all their young hopes. They had as much as given one another a pledge that their home likewise should be broken up. " Are you not almost too severe a student ? " Mr. Barrett happened to say to Cornelia, the day after Wilfrid had worried her. " Do I show the signs ? " she replied. " By no means. But last night, was it not your light that was not extinguished till morning ? " " We soon have morning now," said Cornelia ; and her face was pale as the first hour of the dawn. " Are you not a late footf arer, I may ask in return ? " " Mere restlessness. I have no appetite for study. I took the liberty to cross the park from the wood, and saw you at least I guessed it your light, and then I met your brother." " Yes ? you met him ? " Mr. Barrett gestured an affirmative. " And he did he speak ? " " He nodded. He was in some haste." " But, then, you did not go to bed at all that night ? It is almost my turn to be lecturer, if I might expect to be listened to." "Do you not know or am I constitutionally different from others ? " Mr. Barrett resumed : " I can't be alone in feeling that there are certain times and periods when what I would like to call poisonous influences are abroad, that touch my fate in the days to come. I know I am helpless, I can only wander up and down." " That sounds like a creed of fatalism." " It is not a creed ; it is a matter of nerves. A creed has its ' kismet.' The nerves are wild horses." "It is something to be fought against," said Cornelia, admonishingly. " Is it something to be distrusted ? " " I should say, yes." " Then I was wrong ? " He stooped eagerly, in his temperate way, to catch sight of her answering face. Cornelia's quick cheeks took fire. She fenced with a question or two, and stood in a tremble, marvelling at his intuition. For possibly, at that moment 126 EMILIA IN ENGLAND when he stood watching her window-light (ah, poor heart ! ) she was half-pledging her word to her sisters (in a whirl of wrath at Wilfrid, herself, and the world), that she would take the lead in breaking up Brookfield. An event occurred that hurried them on. They received a visit from their mother's brother, John Pierson, a Colonel of Uhlans, in the Imperial-Royal service. He had rarely been in communication with them ; his visit was unexpected. His leave of absence f roiii his quarters in Italy was not longer than a month, and he was on his way to Ireland, to settle family business ; but he called, as he said, to make acquaint- ance with his nieces. The ladies soon discovered, in spite of his foreign-cut chin and pronounced military habit of speech and bearing, that he was at heart fervidly British. His age was about fifty : a man of great force of shoulder and potent length of arm, courteous and well-bred in manner, he was altogether what is called a model of a cavalry officer. Colonel Pierson paid very little attention to his brother-in- law, but the ladies were evidently much to his taste ; and when he kissed Cornelia's hand, his eyes grew soft, as at a recollection. " You are what your mother once promised to be," he said. To her he gave that mother's portrait, taking it solemnly from his breast-pocket, and attentively contemplating it before it left his hands. The ladies pressed him for a thousand details of their mama's youthful life ; they found it a strange con- solation to talk of her and image her like Cornelia. The for- eign halo about the colonel had an effect on them that was almost like what nobility produces; and by degrees they heated their minds to conceive that they were consenting to an outrage on that mother's memory, in countenancing Mr. Chump's transparent ambition to take her place, as they did by staying in the house with the woman. The colonel's few expressive glances at Mrs. Chump, and Mrs. Cnump's behaviour before the colonel, touched them with intense distaste for their present surly aspect of life. Civil- ized little people are moved to fulfil their destinies and to write their histories as much by distaste as by appetite. This fresh sentimental emotion, which led them to glorify their Jther's image in their hearts, heightened and gave aa acid edge to their distaste for the thing they saw. Nor was it HOW THE LADIES CAME TO THEIR RESOLVE 127 wonderful that Cornelia, said to be so like that mother, should think herself bound to accept the office of taking the initiative in a practical protest against the desecration of the name her mother had borne. At times, I see that sentiment approaches too near the Holy of earthly Holies for us to laugh at it; it has too much truth in it to be denounced nay, if we are not alert and quick of wit, we shall be deceived by it, and wonder in the end, as the fool does, why heaven struck that final blow; concluding that it was but another whimsy of the Gods. The ladies prayed to their mother. They were indeed suffering vile torture. Ethereal eyes might pardon the unconscious jugglery which made their hearts cry out to her that the step they were about to take was to save her children from seeming to acquiesce in a dishonour to her memory. Some such words Adela's tongue did not shrink from; and as it is a common habit for us to give to the objects we mentally address just as much brain as is wanted for the occasion, she is not to be held singular. Colonel Pierson promised to stay a week on his return from Ireland. " Will that person be here ? " he designated Mrs. Chump ; who, among other things, had reproached him for fighting with foreign steel and wearing any uniform but the red. The ladies and Colonel Pierson were soon of one mind in relation to Mrs. Chump. Certain salient quiet remarks dropped by him were cherished after his departure; they were half willing to think that he had been directed to come to them, bearer of a message from the heavenly world to urge them to action. They had need of a spiritual exalta- tion, to relieve them from the palpable depression caused by the weight of Mrs. Chump. They encouraged one another with exclamations on the oddness of a visit from their mother's brother, at such a time of tribulation, indecision, and general darkness. Mrs. Chump remained on the field. When Adela begged her papa to tell her how long the lady was to stay, he re- plied : " Eh ? By the way, I haven't asked her ; " and retreated from this almost too obvious piece of simplicity, with, " I want you to know her : I want you to like her want you to get to understand her. Won't talk about he* going just yet." 128 EMILIA IN ENGLAND If they could have seen a limit to that wholesale slaughter of the Nice Feelings, they might have summoned patience to avoid the desperate step to immediate relief : but they saw- none. Their father's quaint kindness and Wilfrid's treachery had fixed her there, perhaps for good. The choice was, to let London come and see them dragged through the mire by the monstrous woman, or to seek new homes. London, they contended, could not further be put off, and would come, especially now that the season was dying. After all, their parting from one another was the bitterest thing to bear, and as each seemed content to endure it for the good of all, and as, properly considered, they did not bury their ambition by separating, they said farewell to the young delicious dawn of it. By means of Fine Shades it was understood that Brookfield was to be abandoned. Not one direct word was uttered. There were expressions of regret that the village children of Ipley would miss the supervizing eyes that had watched over them perchance! at any rate, would lose them. All went on in the household as before, and would have continued so, but that they had a chief among them. This was Adela Pole, who found her powers with the occasion. Adela thought decisively: "People never move unless they are pushed." And when you have got them to move ever so little, then propel ; but by no means expect that a movement on their part means progression. Without pro- pulsion nothing results. Adela saw what Cornelia meant to do. It was not to fly to Sir Twickenham, but to dismiss Mr. Barrett. Arabella consented to write to Edward Bux- ley, but would not speak of old days, and barely alluded to a misunderstanding; though if she loved one man, this was he. Adela was disengaged. She had moreover to do penance, for a wrong committed; and just as children will pinch them- selves, pleased up to the verge of unendurable pain, so do sentimentalists find a keen relish in performing secret pen- ance for self -accused offences. Thus they become righteous to their own hearts, and evade, as they hope, the public scourge. The wrong committed was (translated out of Fine Shades), that she had made love to her sister's lover. In the original tongue she had innocently played with the cred fire of a strange affection; a child in the temple! ir penitent child took a keen pinching pleasure in dictat- ing words for Arabella to employ toward Edward. HOW THE LADIES CAME TO THEIR EESOLVE 129 And then, recurring to her interview with Wilfrid, it; struck her: "Suppose that, after all, Money! ..." Yes, Mammon has acted Hymen before now. Nothing else ex plained Mrs. Chump; so she thought, in one clear glimpse Inveterate sentimental habit smeared the picture with two exclamations " Impossible ! " and " Papa! " I desire it to be credited that these simple interjections absolutely ob- scured her judgement. Little people think either what they are made to think, or what they choose to think; and the education of girls is to make them believe that facts are their enemies a naughty spying race, upon whom the dogs of Pudeur are to be loosed, if they surprise them with- out note of warning. Adela silenced her suspicion easily enough ; but this did not prevent her taking a measure to satisfy it. Petting her papa one evening, she suddenly asked him for ninety pounds. "Ninety ! " said Mr. Pole, taking a sharp breath. He was as composed as possible. " Is that too much, papa, darling ?" "Not if you want it not if you want it, of course not." " You seemed astonished." " The sum ! it's an odd sum for a girl to want. Ten, twenty, fifty a hundred; but you never hear of ninety, never ! unless it's to pay a debt ; and I have all the bills, or your aunt has them." " Well, papa, if it excites you, I will do without it. It is for a charity, chiefly." Mr. Pole fumbled in his pocket, muttering, "No money here cheque-book in town. I'll give it you," he said aloud, " to-morrow morning morrow morning, early." " That will do, papa ; " and Adela relieved him immedi- ately by shooting far away from the topic. The ladies retired early to their hall of council in the bed- chamber of Arabella, and some time after midnight Cornelia went to her room ; but she could not sleep. She affected, in her restlessness, to think that her spirits required an intel- lectual sedative, so she went down to the library for a book ; where she skimmed many a fashion that may be recom- mended, for assisting us to a sense of sovereign superiority to authors, and also of serene contempt for all mental diffi- culties. Fortified in this way, Cornelia took a Plutarch and 130 EMILIA IN ENGLAND an Encyclopaedia under her arm, to return to her room. But one volume fell, and as she stooped to recover it, her candle shared its fate. She had to find her way back in the dark. On the landing of the stairs, she fancied that she heard a step and a breath. The lady was of unshaken nerves. She moved on steadily, her hand stretched out a little before her. What it touched was long in travelling to her brain ; but when her paralyzed heart beat again, she knew that her hand clasped another hand. Her nervous horror calmed as the feeling came to her of the palpable weakness of the hand. Who are you ? " she asked. Some hoarse answer struck her ear. She asked again, making her voice distincter. The hand now returned her pressure with force. She could feel that the person, whoever it was, stood collecting strength to speak. Then the words came " What do you mean by imitating that woman's brogue ? " " Papa ! " said Cornelia. " Why do you talk Irish in the dark ? There, good night. I've just come up from the library ; my candle dropped. I shouldn't have been frightened, but you talked with such a twang." "But I have just come from the library myself," said Cornelia. " I mean from the dining-room," her father corrected him- self hastily. " I can't sit in the library ; shall have it altered - - full of draughts. Don't you think so, my dear ? Good night. What's this in your arm ? Books ! Ah, you study ! I can get a light for myself." The dialogue was sustained in the hard-whispered tones prescribed by darkness. Cornelia kissed her father's fore- head, and they parted. At breakfast in the morning it was the habit of all the ladies to assemble, partly to countenance the decency of matin-prayers, and also to give the head of the household their dutiful society till business called him away. Adela, in earlier days, had maintained that early rising was not fashionable; but she soon grasped the idea that a great rivalry with Fashion, in minor matters (where the support the satirist might be counted on), was the proper policy roakfield. Mrs. Chump was given to be extremely HOW THE LADIES CAME TO THEIR KESOLVE 131 fashionable in her hours, and began her Brookfield career by coming downstairs at ten and eleven o'clock, when she found a desolate table, well stocked indeed, but without any of the exuberant smiles of nourishment which a morning repast should wear. " You are a Protestant, ma'am, are you not ? " Adela mildly questioned, after informing her that she missed family prayer by her late descent. Mrs. Chump assured her that she was a firm Protestant, and liked to see faces at the breakfast-table. The poor woman was reduced to submit to the rigour of the hour, coming down flustered, and endeavouring to look devout, while many uncertainties as to the condition of the hooks of her attire distracted her mind and fingers. On one occa- sion, Gainsford, the footman, had been seen with his eye on her ; and while Mr. Pole read of sacred things, at a pace composed of slow march and amble, this unhappy man was heard struggling to keep under and extinguish a devil of laughter, by which his human weakness was shaken. He retired from the room with the speed of a voyager about to pay tribute on high seas. Mr. Pole cast a pregnant look at the servants' row as he closed the book ; but the expression of his daughters' faces positively signified that no remark was to be made, and he contained himself. Later, the ladies told him that Gainsford had done no worse than any unedu- cated man would have been guilty of doing. Mrs. Chump had, it appeared, a mother's feeling for one flat curl on her rugged forehead, which was often fondly caressed by her, for the sake of ascertaining its fixity. Doubts of the precision of outline and general welfare of this curl, apparently, caused her to straighten her back and furtively raise her head, with an easy upward motion, as of a cork alighted in water, above the level of the looking-glass on her left hand an action she repeated, with a solemn aspect, four times ; at which point Gainsford gave way. The ladies accorded him every extenuation for the offence. They themselves, but for the heroism of exalted natures, must have succumbed to the gross temptation. " It is difficult, dear papa, to bring one's mind to religious thoughts in her company, even when she is quiescent," they said. Thus, by the prettiest exer- cise of charity that can be conceived, they pleaded for the man Gainsford, while they struck a blow at Mrs. Chump; 132 EMILIA IN ENGLAND and in performing one of the virtues laid down by religion, proved their enemy to be hostile to its influences. Mrs. Chump was this morning very late. The office of morning reader was new to Mr. Pole, who had undertaken it, when first Squire of Brookfield, at the dictate of the ladies his daughters ; so that, waiting with the book before him and his audience expectant, he lacked composure, spoke irritably in an under-breath of "that woman," and asked twice whether she was coming or not. At last the clump of her feet was heard approaching. Mr. Pole commenced read- ing the instant she opened the door. She stood there, with a face like a petrified Irish outcry. An imploring sound of " Pole ! Pole ! " issued from her. Then she caught up one hand to her mouth, and rolled her head, in evident anguish at the necessitated silence. A convulsion passed along the row of maids, two of whom dipped to their aprons ; but the ladies gazed with a sad consciousness of wicked glee at the disgust she was exciting in the bosom of their father. " Will you shut the door ? " Mr. Pole sternly addressed Mrs. Chump, at the conclusion of the first prayer. "Pole! ye know that money ye gave me in notes? I must speak, Pole ! " " Shut the door." Mrs. Chump let go the door-handle with a moan. The door was closed by Gainsford, now one of the gravest of footmen. A chair was placed for her, and she sat down, desperately watching the reader for the fall of his voice. The period was singularly protracted. The ladies turned to one another, to question with an eyelid why it was that extra allowance was given that morning. Mr. Pole was in a third prayer, stumbling on and picking himself up, appar- ently unaware that he had passed the limit. This continued the series of ejaculations which accompanied him JMd hotter little muffled shrieks of: "Oh! Deer! Oh, Lard ! When will he stop ? Oh, mercy ! Och ! And me burrstin' to speak ! Oh ! what'll I do ? I can't keep't Pole ! ye're kill'n me Oh, deer ! I'll be sayin' some- thin to vex the prophets presently. Pole ! " f it was a race that he ran with Mrs. Chump, Mr. Pole was beaten. He came to a sudden stop. Mrs. Chump had become too deeply absorbed in her im- HOW THE LADIES CAME TO THEIR RESOLVE 133 patience to notice the change in his tone ; and when he said, " Now then, to breakfast, quick ! " she was pursuing her lamentable interjections. At sight of the servants trooping forth, she jumped up and ran to the door. " Ye don't go. Pole, they're all here. And I've been robbed, I have. A very note I had from ye, Pole, all gone. And my purse left behind, like the skin of a thing. Lord forbid I accuse annybody; but when I get up, my first rush is to feel in my pocket. And, ask 'em ! If ye didn't keep me so poor, Pole, they'd know I'm a generous woman, but I cann't bear to be robbed. And pinmoney's for spendin' ; annybody'll tell you that. And I ask ye t' ex- amine 'em, Pole ; for last night I counted my notes, wantin' change, and I thought of a salmon I bought on the banks of the Suir to make a present to Chump, which was our onnly visit to Waterford together : for he naver went t' Ireland before or after dyin' as he did ! and it's not his ingrat'tude, with his talk of a Severrn salmon to the deuce with 'm ! that makes me soft poor fella! I didn't mean to the deuce; but since he's gone, his widde's just unfit to bargain for a salmon at all, and averybody robs her, and she's kept poor, and hatud ! D'ye heer, Pole ? I've lost my money, my money ! and I will speak, and ye shann't interrupt me!" During the delivery of this charge against the household, Mr. Pole had several times waved to the servants to begone ; but as they had always the option to misunderstand authori- tative gestures, they preferred remaining, and possibly he perceived that they might claim to do so under accusa- tion. " How can you bring this charge against the inmates of my house eh ? I guarantee the honesty of all who serve me. Martha ! you must be mad, mad ! Money ? why, you never have money ; you waste it if you do." " Not money, Pole ? Oh ! and why ? Becas ye keep me low o' purpose, till I cringe like a slut o* the scullery, and cry out for halfpence. But, oh ! that seventy-five pounds in notes ! " Mr. Pole shook his head, as one who deals with a gross delusion : " I remember nothing about it." " Not about ? " Mrs. Chump dropped her chin. " Ye 134 EMILIA IN ENGLAND don't remember the givin' of me just that sum of seventy- five, in eight notes, Pole ? " " Eh ? I dare say I have given you the amount, one time or other. Now, let's be quiet about it." " Yesterday mornin', Pole ! And the night I go to bed I count my money, and, says I, I'll not lock ut up, for I'll onnly be unlockin' again to-morrow ; and doin' a thing and undoin' ut's sign of a brain that's addled like yours, Pole, if ye say ye didn't go to give me the notes." Mr. Pole frowned at her sagaciously. " Must change your diet, Martha ! " " My dite ? And what's my dite to do with my money ? " "Who went into Mrs. Chump's bedchamber this morn- ing ? " asked Mr. Pole, generally. A pretty little housemaid replied, with an indignant flush, that she was the person. Mrs. Chump acknowledged to being awake when the shutters were opened, and agreed that it was not possible her pockets could have been rifled then. "So, you see, Martha, you're talking nonsense," said Mr. Pole. " Do you know the numbers of those notes ? " " The numbers at the sides, ye mean, Pole ? " " Ay, the numbers at the sides, if you like ; the 21593, and BO on ? " "The 21593! Oh! I can't remember such a lot as that, if ever I leave off repeatin' it." " There ! you see, you're not fit to have money in your possession, Martha. Everybody who has bank-notes looks at the numbers. You have a trick of fancying all sorts of sums in your pocket ; and when you don't find them there, of course they're lost I Now, let's have some breakfast." Arabella told the maids to go out. Mr. Pole turned to the breakfast-table, rubbing his hands. Seeing herself and her case abandoned, Mrs. Chump gave a deplorable shout. " Ye're crool ! and young women that look on at a fellow- woman's mis'ry. Oh ! how can ye do ut 1 But soft hearts can be the hardest. And all my seventy-five gone, gone ! and no law out of annybody. And no frightenin' of 'em off from doin' the like another time ! Oh, I will, I will have my money ! " "Tush! Come to breakfast, Martha," said Mr. Pole. 11 xou shall have money, if you want it; you have only to HOW THE LADIES CAME TO THEIR RESOLVE 135 ask. Now, will you promise to be quiet ? and I'll give you this money the amount you've been dreaming about last night. I'll fetch it. Now, let us have no scenes. Dry your eyes." Mr. Pole went to his private room, and returned just as Mrs. Chump had got upon a succession of quieter sobs, with each one of which she addressed a pathetic roll of her eyes to the utterly unsympathetic ladies respectively. "There, Martha; there's exactly the sum for you free gift. Say thank you, and eat a good breakfast to show your gratitude. Mind, you take this money on condition that you let the servants know you made a mistake." Mrs. Chump sighed heavily, crumpling the notes, that the crisp sweet sound might solace her for the hard condition. " And don't dream any more not about money, I mean," said Mr. Pole. " Oh ! if I dream like that I'll be living double." Mrs. Chump put her hand to the notes, and called him kind, and pitied him for being the loser. The sight of a fresh sum in her possession intoxicated her. It was but feebly that she regretted the loss to her Samuel Bolton Pole. "Your memory's worth more than that ! " she said as she filled her purse with the notes. "Anyhow, now I can treat some- body," and she threw a wink of promise at Adela. Adela's eyes took refuge with her papa, who leaned over to her, and said: "You won't mind waiting till you see me again? She's taken all I had." Adela nodded blankly, and the next moment, with an angry glance toward Mrs. Chump, "Papa," said she, "if you wish to see servants in the house on your return, you must yourself speak to them, and tell them that we, their master and mistresses, do not regard them as thieves." Out of this there came a quarrel as furious as the ladies would permit it to be. For Mrs. Chump, though willing to condone the offence for the sum she had received, stuck infamy upon the whole list of them. "The Celtic nature," murmured Cornelia. And the ladies maintained that their servants should be respected, at any cost. "You, ma'am," said Arabella, with a clear look peculiar to her when vindictive "you may have a stain on your character, and you are not ruined by it. But these poor creatures ..." 136 EMILIA IN ENGLAND "Ye dare to com par' me ! " " Contrast you, ma'am." " It's just as imp'dent." "I say, our servants, ma'am ..." "Oh! to the deuce with your 'ma'am; ' I hate the word. It's like fittin' a cap on me. Ye want to make one a tur- baned dow'ger, ye malicious young woman! " "Those are personages that are, I believe, accepted in society ! " So the contest raged, Mrs. Chump being run clean through the soul twenty times, without touching the consciousness of that sensitive essence. Mr. Pole appeared to take the part of his daughters, and by-and-by Mrs. Chump, having failed to arouse Mrs. Lupin's involuntary laugh (which always consoled her in such cases), huffed out of the room. Then Mr. Pole, in an abruptly serious way, bashfully en- treated the ladies to be civil to Martha, who had the best heart in the world. It sounded as if he were going to say more. After a pause, he added, emphatically, "Do! " and went. He was many days absent: nor did he speak to Adela of the money she had asked for when he returned. Adela had not the courage to allude to it. CHAPTER XVII IN THE WOODS EMILIA sat in her old place under the dwarf pine. Mr. Powys had brought her back to Brookfield, where she heard that Wilfrid had been seen ; and now her heart was in con- test with an inexplicable puzzle : " He was here, and did not come to me! : Since that night when they had walked home from Ipley Green, she had not suffered a moment of longing. Her senses had lain as under a charm, with heart chor and a mind free to work. No one could have eased that any human spell was on the girl. "Wherever ue is, he thinks of me. I find him everywhere. He is safe, for I pray for him and have my arms about him. He lis THE WOODS 137 will come." So she waited, as some grey lake lies, full and smooth, awaiting the star below the twilight. If she let her thoughts run on to the hour of their meeting, she had to shut her eyes and press at her heart; but as yet she was not out of tune for daily life, and she could imagine how that hour was to be strewn with new songs and hushed surprises. And 'thus' he would look: and 'thus.' "My hero ! " breathed Emilia, shuddering a little. But now she was perplexed. Now that he had come and gone, she began' to hunger bitterly for the sight of his face, and that which/ had hitherto nourished her grew a sickly phantom of delight. She wondered how she had forced herself to be patient, and what it was that she had found pleasure in. None of the ladies were at home when Emilia returned. She went out to the woods, and sat, shadowed by the long bent branch; watching mechanically the slow rounding and yellowing of the beam of sunlight over the thick floor of moss, up against the fir-stems. The chaffinch and the lin- net flitted off the grey orchard twigs, singing from new stations ; and the bee seemed to come questioning the silence of the woods and droning disappointed away. The first excess of any sad feeling is half voluntary. Emilia could not help smiling, when she lifted her head out of a musing fit, to find that she had composed part of a minuet for the languid dancing motes in the shaft of golden light at her feet. " Can I remember it? " she thought, and forgot the incident with the effort. Down at her right hand, bordering a water, stood a sallow, a dead tree, channelled inside with the brown trail of a goat-moth. Looking in this direction, she saw Cornelia advancing to the tree. When the lady had reached it, she drew a little book from her bosom, kissed it, and dropped it in the hollow. This done, she passed among the firs. Emilia had perceived that she was agitated : and with that strange instinct of hearts beginning to stir, which makes them divine at once where they will come upon the secret of their own sensations, she ran down to the tree and peered on tiptoe at the embedded volume. On a blank page stood pencilled : " This is the last fruit of the tree. Come not to gather more." There was no meaning for her in that senti- mental chord: but she must have got some glimpse of a 138 EMILIA IN ENGLAND meaning; for now, as in an agony, her lips fashioned the words : " If I forget his face I may as well die ; " and she wandered on, striving more and more vainly to call u^ his features. The 'Does he think of me?' and 'TV 'hat am I to him? ' such timorous little feather-play of femi- nine emotion she knew nothing of: in her heart was the strong flood of a passion. She met Edward Buxley and Freshfield Sumner at a cross- path, on their way to Brookfield; and then Adela joined the party, which soon embraced Mr. Barrett, and subse- quently Cornelia. All moved on in a humming leisure, chattering by fits. Mr. Sumner was delicately prepared to encounter Mrs. Chump, "whom," said Adela, "Edward himself finds it impossible to caricature ; " and she affected to laugh at the woman. " Happy the pencil that can reproduce ! " Mr. Barrett ex- claimed; and, meeting his smile, Cornelia said: "Do you know, my feeling is, and I cannot at all account for it, that if she were a Catholic she would not seem so gross?" " Some of the poetry of that religion would descend upon her, possibly," returned Mr. Barrett. " Do you mean," Freshfield said quickly, "that she would stand a fair chance of being sainted? " Out of this arose some polite fencing between the two. Freshfield might have argued to advantage in a Court of law; but he was no match, on such topics and before such an audience, for a refined sentimentalist. More than once he betrayed a disposition to take refuge in his class (he being son to one of the puisne Judges). Cornelia speedily punished him, and to any correction from her he bowed his head. Adela was this day gifted with an extraordinary insight. Emilia alone of the party was as a blot to her; but the others she saw through, as if they had been walking trans- parencies. She divined that Edward and Freshfield had both come, in concert, upon amorous business that it was Freshfield's object to help Edward to a private interview with her, and, in return, Edward was to perform the same service for him with Cornelia. So that Mr. Barrett was shockingly in the way of both; and the perplexity of these stupid fellows who would insist upon wondering why the IN THE WOODS 139 man Barrett and the girl Emilia (musicians both : both, as it were, vagrants) did not walk together and talk of qua- vers and minims was extremely comic. Passing the withered tree, Mr. Barrett deserved thanks from Freshfield, if he did not obtain them; for he lingered, surrendering his place. And then Adela knew that the weight of Ed- ward Buxley's remonstrative wrath had fallen on silent Emilia, to whom she clung fondly. "I have had a letter," Edward murmured, in the voice that propitiates secresy. "A letter?" she cried aloud; and off flew the man like a rabbit into his hole, the mask of him remaining. Emilia presently found Mr. Barrett at her elbow. His hand clasped the book Cornelia had placed in the tree. "It is hers," said Emilia. He opened it and pointed to his initials. She looked in his face. "Are you very ill?" Adela turned round from Edward's neighbouring head. "Who is ill?" Cornelia brought Freshfield to a stop: "111?" Before them all, book in hand, Mr. Barrett had to give assurance that he was hearty, and to appear to think that his words were accepted, in spite of blanched jowl and reddened under-lid. Cornelia threw him one glance: his eyes closed under it. Adela found it necessary to address some such comforting exclamation as ' Goodness gracious ! ' to her observant spirit. In the park-path, leading to the wood, Arabella was seen as they came out of the young branches that fringed the firs. She hurried up. " I have been looking for you. Papa has arrived with Sir Twickenham Pry me, who dines with us." Adela unhesitatingly struck a blow. "Lady Pryme, we make place for you." And she crossed to Cornelia. Cornelia kept her eyes fixed on Adela' s mouth, as one looks at a place whence a venomous reptile has darted out. Her eyelids shut, and she stood a white sculpture of pain, pitiable to see. Emilia took her hand, encouraging the tightening fingers with a responsive pressure. The group shuffled awkwardly U- 140 EMILIA IN ENGLAND gether, though Adela did her best. She was very angry with Mr. Barrett for wearing that absurdly pale aspect. She was even angry with his miserable bankrupt face for mounting a muscular edition of the smile Cornelia had shown. "His feelings!" she cried internally; and the fact presented itself to her, that feelings were a luxury utterly unfit for poor men, who were to be accused of pre- sumption for indulging in them. "Now, I suppose you are happy?" she spoke low be- tween Arabella and Edward. The effect of these words was to colour violently two pairs of cheeks. Arabella's behaviour did not quite satisfy the fair critic. Edward Buxley was simply caught in a trap. He had the folly to imagine that by laughing he released himself. " Is not that the laugh of an engaged? " said Adela to Freshfield. He replied : " That would have been my idea under other conditions," and looked meaningly. She met the look with : " There are harsh conditions in life, are there not? " and left him sufficiently occupied by his own sensations. "Mr. Barrett," she inquired (partly to assist the wretch out of his compromising depression, and also that the ques- tion represented a real matter of debate in her mind), " I want your opinion; will you give it me? Apropos of slang, why does it sit well on some people? It certainly does not vulgarize them. After all, in many cases, it is what they 42 EMILIA IN ENGLAND offei of his arm to her, for he had seen her wistfully touch- ing what money she had in her pocket, and approved her natural good breeding in allowing it to pass uurnentioned. "N"ow," he said, "I must know what you want to do." "A quiet place! there is no quiet place in this City," said Emilia fretfully. A gentleman passing took off his hat, saying, with City politeness, " Pardon me : you are close to a quiet place. Through that door, and the hall, you will find a garden, where you will hear London as if it sounded fifty miles off." He bowed and retired, and the two (Emilia thankful, Sir Purcell tending to anger), following his indication, soon found themselves in a most perfect retreat, the solitude of which they had the misfortune, however, of destroying for another, and a scared, couple. Here Emilia said : " I have determined to go to Italy at once. Mr. Pericles has offered to pay for me. It's my father's wish. And and I cannot wait and feel like a beggar. I must go. I shall always love England don't fear that!" Sir Purcell smiled at the simplicity of her pleading look. " Now, I want to know where to find Mr. Pericles, " she pursued. " And if you will come to him with me ! He is sure to be very angry I thought you might protect me from that. But when he hears that I am really going at last at once ! he can laugh sometimes ! you will see him rub his hands." "I must enquire where his chambers are to be found," said Sir Purcell. "Oh! anybody in the City must know him, because he is so rich." Emilia coughed. "This fog kills me. Pray make haste. Dear friend, I trouble you very much, but I want to get away from this. I can hardly breathe. I shall have no heart for my task, if I don't see him soon." "Wait for me, then," said Sir Purcell; "you cannot wait in a better place. And I must entreat you to be careful." He half alluded to the adjustment of her shawl, and to any- thing else, as far as she might choose to apprehend him. Her dexterity in tossing him the letter, unseen by Madame Marini, might have frightened him and given him a dread, that albeit woman, there was germ of wickedness in her. HER VOICE FAILS 843 This pained him acutely, for he never forgot that she had been the means of his introduction to Cornelia, from whom he could not wholly dissociate her: and the idea that any prospective shred of impurity hung about one who had even looked on his beloved, was utter anguish to the keen senti- mentalist. "Be very careful," he would have repeated, but that he had a warning sense of the ludicrous, and Emilia's large eyes when they fixed calmly on a face were not of a flighty cast. She stood, too, with the " dignity of sadness," as he was pleased to phrase it. "She must be safe here," he said to himself. And yet, upon reflection, he decided not to leave her, peremptorily informing her to that effect. Emilia took his arm, and as they were passing through the hall of entrance they met the same gentleman who had directed them to the spot of quiet. Both she and Sir Purcell heard him say to a companion : "There she is." A deep glow covered Emilia's face. "Do they know you?" asked Sir Purcell. "No," she said: and then he turned, but the couple had gone on. " That deserves chastisement, " he muttered. Briefly tell- ing her to wait, he pursued them. Emilia was standing in the gateway, not at all comprehending why she was alone. " Sandra Belloni ! " struck her ear. Looking forward she perceived a hand and a head gesticulating from a cab-win- dow. She sprang out into the street, and instantly the hand clenched and the head glared savagely. It was Mr. Pericles himself, in travelling costume. "I am your fool?" he began, overbearing Emilia's most irritating "How are you?" and "Are you quite well?" "I am your fool? hein? You send me to Paris! to Geneve! I go over Lago Maggiore, and aha! it is your joke, meess! I juste return. Oh capital! At Milano I wa it I enquire till a letter from old Belloni, and I learn I am your fool of you all! Jomp in." "A gentleman is coming," said Emilia, by no means intimidated, though the forehead of Mr. Pericles looked portentous. "He was bringing me to you." "Zen, jomp in! " cried Mr. Pericles. Here Sir Purcell came up. Emilia said softly : " Mr. Pericles." There was the form of a bow of moderate recognition 344 EMILIA IN ENGLAND between them, but other hats were off to Emilia. The two gentlemen who had offended Sir Purcell had insisted, on learning the nature of their offence, that they had a right to present their regrets to the lady in person, and beg an excuse from her lips. Sir Purcell stood white with a futile effort at self-control, as one of them, preluding "Pardon me, " said : " I had the misfortune to remark to my friend, as I passed you, 'There she is.' May I, indeed, ask your pardon? My friend is an artist. I met him after I had first seen you. He, at least, does not think foolish my rec- ommendation to him that he should look on you at all haz- ards. Let me petition you to overlook the impertinence." "I think, gentlemen, you have now made the most of the advantage my folly, in supposing you would regret or apolo- gize fittingly for an impropriety, has given you," interposed Sir Purcell. His new and superior tone (for he had previously lost his temper and spoken with a silly vehemence) caused them to hesitate. One begged the word of pardon from Emilia to cover his retreat. She gave it with an air of thorough-bred repose, saying, "I willingly pardon you," and looking at them no more, whereupon they vanished. Ten minutes later, Emilia and Sir Purcell were in the chambers of Mr. Pericles. The Greek had done nothing but grin obnoxiously to every word spoken on the way, drawing his hand down across his jaw, to efface the hard pale wrinkles, and eyeing Emilia's cavalier with his shrewdest suspicious look. "You will excuse," he pointed to the confusion of the room they were in, and the heap of unopened letters, "I am from ze Continent: I do not expect ze pleasure. A seat?" Mr. Pericles handed chairs to his visitors. " It is a climate, is it not, " he resumed. Emilia said a word, and he snapped at her, immediately adding, "Hein? Ah! so!" with a charming urbanity. " How lucky that we should meet you," exclaimed Emilia. " We were just coming to you to find out, I mean, where you were, and call on you." "Ough! do not tell me lies," said Mr. Pericles, clasping the hollow of his cheeks between thumb and forefinger. HER VOICE FAILS 345 "Allow me to assure you that what Miss Belloni has said is perfectly correct," Sir Purcell remarked. Mr. Pericles gave a short bow. "It is ze same; I am much obliged." "And you have just come from Italy? " said Emilia. " Where you did me ze favour to send me, it is true Sanks!" " Oh, what a difference between Italy and this ! " Emilia turned her face to the mottled yellow windows. "Many sanks," repeated Mr. Pericles, after which the three continued silent for a time. At last Emilia said, bluntly, " I have come to ask you to take me to Italy." Mr. Pericles made no sign, but Sir Purcell leaned for- ward to her with a gaze of astonishment, almost of horror. "Will you take me?" persisted Emilia. Still the sullen Greek refused either to look at her or to answer. "Because I am ready to go," she went on. "I want to go at once; to-day, if you like. I am getting too old to waste an hour." Mr. Pericles uncrossed his legs, ejaculating, "What a fog! Ah!" and that was all. He rose, and went to a cupboard. Sir Purcell murmured hurriedly in Emilia's ear, "Have you considered what you've been saying? " "Yes, yes. It is only a journey," Emilia replied, in a like tone. " A journey ! " "My father wishes it." "Your mother?" " Hush ! I intend to make him take the Madre with me." She designated Mr. Pericles, who had poured into a small liqueur glass some green Chartreuse, smelling strong of pines. His visitors declined to eject the London fog by this aid of the mountain monks, and Mr. Pericles warmed himself alone. "You are wiz old Belloni," he called out. "I am not staying with my father," said Emilia. "Where?" Mr. Pericles shed a baleful glance on Sir Purcell. 346 EMHJA IN ENGLAND "I am staying with Signer Marini." "Servente!" Mr. Pericles ducked his head quite low, while his hand swept the floor with an imaginary cap. Malice had lighted up his features, and finding, after the first burst of sarcasm, that it was vain to indulge it toward an absent person, he altered his style. "Look, "he cried to Emilia, "it is Marini stops you and old Belloni a con- spirator, aha! Is it foi an artist to conspire, and be car- bonaro, and kiss books, and, mon Dieu! bon! it is Marini plays me zis trick. I mark him. I mark him, I say! He is paid by young Pole. I hold zat family in my hand, I say ! So I go to be met by you, and on I go to Italy. I get a letter at Milano, 'Marini stop me at Dover,' signed ' Giuseppe Belloni. ' Ze letter have been spied into by ze Austrians. I am watched I am dogged lam impris- oned I am examined. 'You know zis Giuseppe Belloni? ' 'Meine Herrn! he was to come. I leave word at Paris for him, at Geneve, at Stresa, to bring his daughter to ze Con- servatoire, for which I pay. She has a voice or she had." " Has ! " exclaimed Emilia. " Had ! " Mr. Pericles repeated. "She has!" " Zen sing! " with which thunder of command, Mr. Peri- cles gave up his vindictive narration of the points of his injuries sustained, and, pitching into a chair, pressed his fingers to his temples, frowning attention. His eyes were on the floor. Presently he glanced up, and saw Emilia's chest rising quickly. No voice issued. "It is to commence," cried Mr. Pericles. "Hein! now sing." Emilia laid her hand under her throat. " Not now ! Oh, not now! When you have told me what those Austrians did to you. I want to hear; I am very anxious to hear. And what they said of my father. How could he have come to Milan without a passport? He had only a passport to Paris." " And at Paris I leave instructions for ze procuration of a passport over Lombardy. Am I not Antonio Pericles Agriolopoulos? Sing, I say!" " Ah, but what voices you must have heard in Italy," said HER VOICE FAILS 847 Emilia softly. "I am afraid to sing after them. SI: I dare not." She panted, little in keeping with the cajolery of her tones, but she had got Mr. Pericles upon a theme serious to his mind. " Not a voice ! not one ! " he cried, stamping his foot. " All is French. I go twice wizin six monz, and if I go to a goose-yard I hear better. Oh, yes! it is tune 'ta-ta-ta ti-ti-ti to ! ' and of ze heart where is zat? Mon Dieu ! I despair. I see music go dead. Let me hear you. Sandra." His enthusiasm had always affected Emilia, and pain- fully since her love had given her a consciousness of infi- delity to her Art, but now the pathetic appeal to her took away her strength, and tears rose in her eyes at the thought of his faith in her. His repetition of her name the 'San- dra ' being uttered with unwonted softness plunged her into a fit of weeping. "Ah!" Mr. Pericles shouted. "See what she has come to ! " and he walked two or three paces off to turn upon her spitefully. "She will be vapeurs, nerfs, I know not! when it wants a physique of a saint! Sandra Belloni," he added, gravely, "lift up ze head! Sing, 'Sempre al tuo santo nome. ' " Emilia checked her tears. His hand being raised to beat time, she could not withstand the signal. "Sempre;" there came two struggling notes, to which another clung, shuddering like two creatures on the deeps. She stopped; herself oddly calling out "Stop." "Stop who, done?" Mr. Pericles postured an indignant interrogation. "I mean, I must stop," Emilia faltered. "It's the fog. I cannot sing in this fog. It chokes me." Apparently Mr. Pericles was about to say something frightfully savage, which was restrained by the presence of Sir Purcell. He went to the door in answer to a knock, while Emilia drew breath as calmly as she might; her head moving a little backward with her breathing, in a sad me- chanical way painful to witness. Sir Purcell stretched his hand out to her, but she did not take it. She was listening to voices at the door. Was it really Mr. Pole who was 348 EMILIA IN ENGLAND there? Quite unaware of the effect the sight of her would produce on him, Emilia rose and walked to the doorway. She heard Mr. Pole abusing Mr. Pericles half banteringly for his absence while business was urgent, saying that they must lay their heads together and consult, otherwise a significant indication appeared to close the sentence. " But if you've just come off your journey, and have got a lady in there, we must postpone, I suppose. Say, this afternoon. I'll keep up to the mark, if nothing hap- pens. ..." Emilia pushed the door from the hand of Mr. Pericles, and was advancing toward the old man on the landing j but no sooner did the latter verify to his startled understanding that he had seen her, than with an exclamation of " All right! good-bye!" he began a rapid descent of the stairs. A distance below, he bade Mr. Pericles take care of her, and as an excuse for his abrupt retreat, the word " busy " sounded up. " Does my face frighten him ? " Emilia thought. It made her look on herself with a foreign eye. This is a dreadful but instructive piece of contemplation ; acting as if the rich warm blood of self should have ceased to hug about us, and we stand forth to be dissected unresistingly. All Emilia's vital strength now seemed to vanish. At the renewal of Mr. Pericles' peremptory mandate for her to sing, she could neither appeal to him, nor resist ; but, raising her chest, she made her best effort, and then covered her face. This was done less for concealment of her shame-stricken features than to avoid sight of the stupefaction imprinted upon Mr. Pericles. " Again, zat A flat ! " he called sternly. She tried it. "Again!" Again she did her utmost to accomplish the task. If you have seen a girl in a fit of sobs elevate her head, with hard- shut eyelids, while her nostrils convulsively take in a long breath, as if for speech, but it is expended in one quick vacant sigh, you know how Emilia looked. And it requires a hu- mane nature to pardon such an aspect in a person from whom we have expected triumphing glances and strong thrilling tones. HER VOICE FAILS 349 " What is zis ? " Mr. Pericles came nearer to her. He would listen to no charges against the atmosphere. Commanding her to give one simple run of notes, a contralto octave, he stood over her with keenly watchful eyes. Sir Purcell bade him observe her distress. "I am much obliged," Mr. Pericles bowed. "She is ruined. I have suspected. Ha! But I ask for a note! One ! " This imperious signal drew her to another attempt. The deplorable sound that came sent Emilia sinking down with a groan. " Basta, basta ! So, it is zis tale," said Mr. Pericles, after an observation of her huddled shape. " Did I not say " His voice was so menacingly loud and harsh that Sir Pur- cell remarked : " This is not the time to repeat it pardon me whatever you said." " Ze fool she play ze fool ! Sir, I forget ze Christian ah ! Purcell ! I say she play ze fool, and look at her ! Why is it she comes to me now ? A dozen times I warn her. To Italy ! to Italy ! all is ready : you will have a place at ze Conservatorio. No : she refuse. I say ' G-o, and you are a queen. You are a Prima at twenty, and Europe is beneas you.' No : she refuse, and she is ruined. ' What,' I say, ' what zat dam silly smile mean ? ' ' Oh, no ! I am not lazy ! ' ' But you are a fool ! ' ' Oh, no ! ' ' And what are you, zen ? And what shall you do ? ' Nussing ! missing ! nussing ! And, dam ! zere is an end." Emilia had caught blindly at Sir Purcell's hand, by which she raised herself, and then uncovering her face, looked fur- tively at the malign furnace-white face of Mr. Pericles. " It cannot have gone," she spoke, as if mentally bal- ancing the possibility. " It has gone, I say ; and you know why, Mademoiselle ze Fool ! " Mr. Pericles retorted. " No, no ; it can't be gone. Gone ? voices never go ! " The reiteration of the " You know why," from Mr. Peri- cles, and all the wretchedness of loss it suggested, robbed her of the little spark of nervous fire by which she felt half- reviving in courage and confidence. " Let me try once more," she appealed to him, in a frenzy. Mr. Pericles, though fully believing in his heart that it 350 EMILIA IN ENGLAND might only be a temporary deprivation of voice, affected to scout the notion of another trial, but finally extended his forefinger : " Well, now ; start ! ' Sempre al tuo santo ! ' Com- mence : Sem " and Mr. Pericles hummed the opening bar, not as an unhopeful man would do. The next moment he was laughing horribly. Emilia, to make sure of the thing she dreaded, forced the note, and would not be denied. What voice there was in her came to the summons. It issued, if I may so express it, ragged, as if it had torn through a briar-hedge : then there was a whimper of tones, and the effect was like the lamentation of a hardly-used urchin, lack- ing a certain music that there is in his undoubted heartfelt earnestness. No single note poised firmly for the instant, but swayed, trembling on its neighbour to right and to left : when pressed for articulate sound, it went into a ghastly whisper. The laughter of Mr. Pericles was pleasing discord in comparison. CHAPTER XL SHE TASTES DESPAIR EMILIA stretched out her hand and said, "Good-bye." Seeing that the hardened girl, with her dead eyelids, did not appear to feel herself at his mercy, and also that Sir Pur- cell's forehead looked threatening, Mr. Pericles stopped his sardonic noise. He went straight to the door, which he opened with alacrity, and mimicking very wretchedly her words of adieu, stood prepared to bow her out. She aston- ished him by passing without another word. Before he could point a phrase bitter enough for expression, Sir Purcell had likewise passed, and in going had given him a quietly ad- monishing look. " Zose Poles are beggars ! " Mr. Pericles roared after them over the stairs, and slammed his door for emphasis. Almost immediately there was a knock at it. Mr. Pericles stood bent and cat-like as Sir Purcell reappeared. The latter, avoiding all preliminaries, demanded of the Greek that he should promise not to use the names of his friends publicly in such a manner again. SHE TASTES DESPAIR 851 " I require a promise for the future. An apology will be needless from you." " I shall not give it," said Mr. Pericles, with a sharp lift of his upper lip. " But you will give me the promise I have returned for." In answer Mr. Pericles announced that he had spoken what was simply true : that the prosperity of the Poles was fictitious : that he, or any unfavourable chance, could ruin them : and that their friends might do better to protect their interests than by menacing one who had them in his power. Sir Purcell merely reiterated his demand for the promise, which was ultimately snarled to him ; whereupon he retired, joy on his features. For, Cornelia poor, she might be claimed by him fearlessly : that is to say, without the fear of people whispering that the penniless baronet had sued for gold, and without the fear of her father rejecting his suit. At least he might, with this knowledge that he had gained, appoint to meet her now ! All the morning Sir Purcell had been comba- tive, owing to that subordinate or secondary post he occupied in a situation of some excitement ; which combativeness is one method whereby men thus placed, imagining that they are acting devotedly for their friends, contrive still to assert themselves. He descended to the foot of the stairs, where he had told Emilia to wait for him, full of kind feelings and ready cheerful counsels ; as thus : " Nothing that we possess belongs to us ; All will come round rightly in the end ; Be patient, look about for amusement, and improve your mind." And more of this copper coinage of wisdom in the way of proverbs. But Emilia was nowhere visible to receive the administration of comfort. Outside the house the fog appeared to have swallowed her. With some chagrin on her behalf (partly a sense of duty unfulfilled) Sir Purcell made his way to the residence of the Marinis, to report of her there, if she should not have arrived. The punishment he inflicted on himself in keeping his hand an hour from that letter to be written to Cornelia, was almost pleasing ; and he was re- warded by it, for the projected sentences grew mellow and rich, condensed and throbbed eloquently. What wonder, that with such a mental occupation, he should pass Emilia and not notice her ? She let him go. But when he was out of sight, all seemed gone. The 352 EMILIA IN ENGLAND dismally-lighted city wore a look of Judgement terrible to see. Her brain was slave to her senses : she fancied she had dropped into an underground kingdom, among a mysterious people. The anguish through which action had just hurried her, now fell with a conscious weight upon her heart. She stood a moment, seeing her desolation stretch outwardly into endless labyrinths ; and then it narrowed and took hold of her as a force within : changing thus, almost with each breathing of her body. The fog had thickened. Up and down the groping city went muffled men, few women. Emilia looked for one of her sex who might have a tender face. Desire to be kissed and loved by a creature strange to her, and to lay her head upon a woman's bosom, moved her to gaze around with a longing once or twice ; but no eyes met hers, and the fancy recurred vividly that she was not in the world she had known. Other- wise, what had robbed her of her voice ? She played with her fancy for comfort, long after any real vitality in it had oozed out. Her having strength to play at fancies showed that a spark of hope was alive. In truth, firm of flesh as she was, to believe that all worth had departed from her was im- possible, and when she reposed simply on her sensations, very little trouble beset her : only when she looked abroad did the aspect of numerous indifferent faces, and the harsh flowing of the world its own way, tell her she had lost her power. Could it be lost ? The prospect of her desolation grew so wide to her that she shut her eyes, abandoning herself to feeling ; and this by degrees moved her to turn back and throw herself at the feet of Mr. Pericles. For, if he said, ' Wait, my child, and all will come round well," she was prepared blindly to think so. The projection of the words in her mind made her ready to weep : but as she neared the house of his office the wish to hear him speak that, became passionate; she counted all that depended on it, and discov- ered the size of the fabric she had built on so thin a plank. After a while, her steps were mechanically swift. Before she reached the chambers of Mr. Pericles she had walked, she knew not why, once round the little quiet enclosed city- garden, and a cold memory of those men who had looked at her face gave her some wonder, to be quickly kindled into fuller comprehension. SHE TASTES DESPAIR 853 Beholding Emilia once more, Mr. Pericles enjoyed a revival of his taste for vengeance ; but, unhappily for her, he found it languid, and when he had rubbed his hands, stared, and by sundry sharp utterances brought her to his feet, his satisfaction was less poignant than he had expected. As a consequence, instead of speaking outrageously, according to his habit, in wrath, he was now frigidly considerate, inform- ing Emilia that it would be good for her if she were dead, seeing that she was of no use whatever; but, as she was alive, she had better go to her father and mother, and learn knitting, or some such industrial employment. " Unless zat man for whom you play fool ! - " Mr. Pericles shrugged the rest of his meaning. " But my voice may not be gone," urged Emilia. " I may sing to you to-morrow this evening. It must be the fog. Why do you think it lost ? It can't be - " " Cracked ! " cried Mr. Pericles. "It is not! No; do not think it. I may stay here. Don ? t tell me to go yet. The streets make me wish to die. And I feel I may, perhaps, sing presently. Wait. Will you wait?" A hideous imitation of her lamentable tones burst from Mr. Pericles. " Cracked ! " he cried again. Emilia lifted her eyes, and looked at him steadily. She saw the idea grow in the eyes fronting her that she had a pleasant face, and she at once staked this little bit of newly- conceived worth on an immediate chance. Kemernber, that she was as near despair as a creature constituted so healthily could go. Speaking no longer in a girlish style, but with the grave pleading manner of a woman, she begged Mr. Pericles to take her to Italy, and have faith in the recovery of her voice. He, however, far from being softened, as he grew aware of her sweetness of feature, waxed violent and insulting. " Take me," she said. " My voice will reward you. feel that you can cure it." "For zat man! to go to him again!' " I never shall do that." There sprang a glitter as of steel in Emilia's eyes. " I will make myself yours for 1: if you like. Take my hand, and let me swear. 354 EMILIA IN ENGLAND break my word. I will swear, that if I recover my voice to become what you expected, I will marry you whenever you ask me, and then " More she was saying, but Mr. Pericles, sputtering a laugh of " Sanks ! " presented a postured supplication for silence. " I am not a man who marries." He plainly stated the relations that the woman whom he had distinguished by the honours of selection must hold toward him. Emilia's cheeks did not redden ; but, without any notion of shame at the words she listened to, she felt herself falling lower and lower the more her spirit clung to Mr. Pericles : yet he alone was her visible personification of hope, and she could not turn from him. If he cast her off, it seemed to her that her voice was condemned. She stood there still, and the cold-eyed Greek formed his opinion. He was evidently undecided as regards his own course of proceeding, for his chin was pressed by thumb and fore- finger hard into his throat, while his eyebrows were wrinkled up to their highest elevation. From this attitude, expressive of the accurate balancing of the claims of an internal debate, he emerged into the posture of a cock crowing, and Emilia heard again his bitter mimicry of her miserable broken tones, followed by " Ha ! dam ! Basta ! basta ! " " Sit here," cried Mr. Pericles. He had thrown himself into a chair, and pointed to his knee. Emilia remained where she was standing. He caught at her hand, but she plucked that from him. Mr. Pericles rose, sounding a cynical " Hein ! " " Don't touch me," said Emilia. Nothing exasperates certain natures so much as the effort of the visibly weak to intimidate them. " I shall not touch you ? " Mr. Pericles sneered. " Zen, why are you here ? " " I came to my friend," was Emilia's reply. "Your friend! He is not ze friend of a couac-couac. Once, if you please: but now" (Mr. Pericles shrugged), " now you are like ze rest of women. You are game. Come to me." He caught once more at "her hand, which she lifted ; then at her elbow. SHE TASTES DESPAIR "Will you touch me when I tell you not to?" There was the soft line of an involuntary frown over her white face, and as he held her arm from the doubled elbow, with her clenched hand aloft, she appeared ready to strike a tragic blow. Anger and every other sentiment vanished from Mr. Peri- cles in the rapturous contemplation of her admirable artistic pose. " Mon Dieu ! and wiz a voice ! " he exclaimed, dashing his fist in a delirium of forgetfulness against the one plastered lock of hair on his shining head. " Little fool ! little dam fool ! zat might have been " (Mr. Pericles figured in air with his fingers to signify the exaltation she was to have attained) " Mon Dieu ! and look at you ! Did 1 not warn you ? non e vero ? Did I not say ' Euin, ruin, if you go so ? For a man ! a voice ! ' You will not come to me ? Zen, hear ! you shall go to old Belloni. I do not want you, my pretty dear. Woman is a trouble, a drug. You shall go to old Belloni ; and, crack ! if ze voice will come back to a whip, bravo, old Belloni ! " Mr. Pericles turned to reach down his hat from a peg. At the same instant Emilia quitted the room. Dusk was deepening the yellow atmosphere, and the crowd was now steadily flowing in one direction. The bereaved creature went with the stream, glad to be surrounded and unseen, till it struck her, at last, that she was moving home- ward. She stopped with a pang of grief, turned, and met all those people to whom the fireside was a beacon. For some time she bore against the pressure, but her loneliness overwhelmed her. None seemed to go her way. For a refuge, she turned into one of the city side streets, where she was quite alone. Unhappily, the street was of no length, and she soon came to the end of it. There was the choice of retracing her steps, or entering a strange street ; and while she hesitated a troop of sheep went by, that made a piteous noise. She followed them, thinking curiously of the some- thing broken that appeared to be in their throats. By-and- by, the thought flashed in her that they were going to be slaughtered. She held her step, looking at them, but with- out any tender movement of the heart They came to a butcher's yard, and went- in. 356 EMILIA IN ENGLAND When she had passed along a certain distance, a shiver seized her, and her instinct pushed her toward the lighted shops, where there were pictures. In one she saw the por- trait of that Queen of Song whom she had heard at Besworth. Two young men, glancing as they walked by arm in arm, pronounced the name of the great enchantress, and hummed one of her triumphant airs. The features expressed health, humour, power, every fine animal faculty. Genius was on the forehead and the plastic mouth ; the forehead being well projected, fair, and very shapely, showing clear balance, as well as capacity to grasp flame, and fling it. The line reach- ing to a dimple from the upper lip was saved from scornful- ness by the lovely gleam, half-challenging, half-consoling, regal, roguish what you would that sat between her dark eyelashes, like white sunlight on the fringed smooth roll of water by a weir. Such a dimple, and such a gleam of eyes, would have been keys to the face of a weakling, and it was the more fascinating from the disregard of any minor }harm notable upon this grand visage, which could not suffer a betrayal. You saw, and there was no effort to con- ceal, that the spirit animating it was intensely human ; but it was human of the highest chords of humanity, indifferent to finesse and despising subtleties ; gifted to speak, to in- spire, and to command all great emotions. In fact, it was the masque of a dramatic artist in repose. Tempered by beauty, the robust frame showed that she possessed a royal nature, and could, as a foremost qualification for Art, feel harmoniously. She might have many of the littlenesses of which women are accused ; for Art she promised unspotted excellence ; and, adorable as she was by attraction of her sex, she was artist over all. Emilia found herself on one of the bridges, thinking of this aspect. Beneath her was the stealing river, with its red in- tervals, and the fog had got a wider circle. She could not disengage that face from her mind. It seemed to say to her, boldly, " I live because success is mine ; " and to hint, as with a paler voice, " Death the fruit of failure." Could she, Emilia, ever be looked on again by her friends ? The dread of it gave her shudders. Then, death was certainly easy ! But death took no form in her imagination, as it does to one seeking it. She desired to forget and to hide her intolerable SHE TASTES DESPAIR 857 losses ; to have the impostor she felt herself to be buried. As she walked along she held out her hands, murmuring, "Helpless ! useless! " It came upon her as a surprise that one like herself should be allowed to live. " I don't want to," she said; and the next moment, "I wonder what a drowned woman is like ? " She hurried back to the streets and the shops. The shops failed now to give her distraction, for a stiff and dripping image floated across all the windows, and she was glad to see the shutters being closed ; though, when the streets were dark, some friendliness seemed to have gone. When the streets were quite dark, save for the row of lamps, she walked fast, fearing she knew not what. A little Italian boy sat doubled over his organ on a door- step, while a yet smaller girl at his elbow plied him with questions in English. Emilia stopped before them, and the girl complained to her that the perverse little foreigner would not answer. Two or three words in his native tongue soon brought his face to view. Emilia sat down between them, and listened to the prattle of two languages. The girl said that she never had supper, which was also the case with the boy ; so Emilia felt for her purse, and sent the girl with sixpence in search of a shop that sold cakes. The girl came back with her apron full. As they were all about to eat, a policeman commanded them to quit the spot, in- forming them that he knew both them and their dodges. Emilia stood up, and was taking her little people away, when the policeman, having suddenly changed his accurate opinion of her, said, " You're giving 'em some supper, miss ? Oh, they must sit down to their suppers, you know ! " and walked away, not to be a witness of this infraction of the law. So, they sat down and ate, and the boy and girl tried to say intelligible things to one another, and laughed. Emilia could not help joining in their laughter. The girl was very anxious to know whether the boy was ever beaten, and hear- ing that he was, she appeared better satisfied, remarking that she was also, but curious still as to the different forms of chastisement they received. This being partially ex- plained, she wished to know whether he would be beaten that night, Emilia interpreting. A grin, and a rapid whistle and < cluck,' significant of the application of whips, told the state of his expectations; at which the girl clapped her 358 EMILIA IN ENGLAND hands, adding, lamentably, " So shall I, 'cause I am always." Emilia gathered them under each shoulder, when, to her de- light and half perplexity, they closed their eyes, leaning against her. The policeman passed, and for an hour endured this spec- tacle. At last he felt compelled to explain to Emilia what were the sentiments of gentlefolks with regard to their doorsteps, apart from the law of the matter. He put it to her human nature whether she would like her doorsteps to be blocked, so that no one could enter, and anyone emerging stood a chance of being precipitated, nose foremost, upon the pavement. Then, again, as gentlefolks had good experience of, the young ones in London were twice as cunning as the old. Emilia pleaded for her sleeping pair, that they might not be disturbed. Her voice gave the keeper of the peace notions of her being one of the eccentric young ladies who are occasionally ' missing/ and have advertizing friends. He uttered a stern ahem ! preliminary to assent ; but the noise wakened the children, who stared, and readily obeyed his gesture, which said, " Be off ! " while his words were those of remonstrance. Emilia accompanied them a little way. Both promised eagerly that they would be at the same place the night following and departed the boy with laughing nods and waving of hands, which the girl imitated. Emilia's feeling of security went with them. She at once feigned a destination in the distance, and set forward to reach it, but the continued exposure of this delusion made it difficult to renew. She fell to counting the hours that were to elapse before she would meet those children, saying to herself, that whatever she did she must keep her engagement to be at the appointed steps. This restriction set her darkly fancying that she wished for her end. Remembering those men who had looked at her admir- ingly, " Am I worth looking at ? " she said ; and it gave her some pleasure to think that she had it still in her power to destroy a thing of value. She was savagely ashamed of going to death empty-handed. By-and-by, great fatigue stiffened her limbs, and she sat down from pure want of rest. The luxury of rest and soothing languor kept hard thoughts away. She felt as if floating, for a space. The fear of the streets left her. But when necessity for rest SHE TASTES DESPAIR 3.Y.* had gone, she clung to the luxury still, and sitting bent for- ward, with her hands about her knees, she began to brood over tumbled images of a wrong done to her. She had two distinct visions of herself, constantly alternating and acting like the temptation of two devils. One represented her despicable in feature, and bade her die ; the other showed a fair face, feeling which to be her own, Emilia had fits of intolerable rage. This vision prevailed; and this wicked side of her humanity saved her. Active despair is a pas- sion that must be superseded by a passion. Passive despair comes later ; it has nothing to do with mental action, and is mainly a corruption or degradation of our blood. The rage in Emilia was blind at first, but it rose like a hawk, and singled its enemy. She fixed her mind to conceive the fool- ishness of putting out a face that her rival might envy, and of destroying anything that had value. The flattery of beauty came on her like a warm garment. When she opened her eyes, seeing what she was and where, she almost smiled at the silly picture that had given her comfort. Those men had looked on her admiringly, it was true, but would Wilfrid have ceased to love her if she had been beau- tiful ? An extraordinary intuition of Wilfrid's sentiment tormented her now. She saw herself in the light that he would have seen her by, till she stood with the sensations of an exposed criminal in the dark length of the street, and hurried down it, back, as well as she could find her way, to the friendly policeman. Her question on reaching him, " Are you married ? " was prodigiously astonishing, and he administered the rebuff of an affirmative with severity. " Then," said Emilia, " when you go home, let me go with you to your wife. Perhaps she will consent to take care of me for this night." The police- man coughed mildly and replied, " It's plain you know noth- ing of women begging your pardon, miss, for I can see you're a lady." Emilia repeated her petition, and the police- man explained the nature of women. Not to be baffled, Emilia said, " I think your wife must be a good woman." Hereat the policeman laughed, affirming " that the best of them knew what bad suspicions was." Ultimately, he con- sented to take her to his wife, when he was relieved, after the term of so many minutes. Emilia stood at a distance, 360 EMILIA IN ENGLAND speculating on the possible choice he would make of a tune to accompany his monotonous walk to and fro, and on the certainty of his wearing any tune to nothing. She was in a bed, sleeping heavily, a little before dawn. The day that followed was her day of misery. The blow that had stunned her had become as a loud intrusive pulse in her head. By this new daylight she fathomed the depth, and reckoned the value, of her loss. And her senses had no pleasure in the light, though there was sunshine. The woman who was her hostess was kind, but full of her first surprise at the strange visit, and too openly ready for any informa- tion the young lady might be willing to give with regard to her condition, prospects, and wishes. Emilia gave none. She took the woman's hand, asking permission to remain under her protection. The woman by-and-by named a sum of money as a sum for weekly payment, and Emilia trans- ferred all to her that she had. The policeman and his wife thought her, though reasonable, a trifle insane. She sat at a window for hours watching a 'last man' of the fly species walking up and plunging down a pane of glass. On this transparent solitary field for the most objectless enterprise ever undertaken, he buzzed angrily at times, as if he had another meaning in him, which was being wilfully misinter- preted. Then he mounted again at his leisure, to pitch backward as before. Emilia found herself thinking with great seriousness that it was not wonderful for boys to be always teasing and killing flies, whose thin necks and bob- bing heads themselves suggested the idea of decapitation. She said to her hostess: "I don't like flies. They seem never to sing but when they are bothered." The woman replied : " Ah, indeed ? " very smoothly, and thought : " If you was to bust out now, which of us two would be strong- est?" Emilia grew distantly aware that the policeman and his wife talked of her and watched her with combined observation. When it was night she went to keep her appointment. The girl was there, but the boy came late. He said he had earned only a few pence that day, and would be beaten. He spoke in a whimpering tone which caused the girl to desire a translation of his words. Emilia told her how things were with him, and the girl expressed a wish that she had an SHE TASTES DESPAIR 861 organ, as in that case she would be sure to earn more than sixpence a day ; such being the amount that procured her nightly a comfortable reception in the arms of her parents. " Do you like music ? " said Emilia. The girl replied that she liked organs ; but, as if to avoid committing an injustice, cited parrots as foremost in her affections. Holding them both to her breast, Emilia thought that she would rescue them from this beating by giving them the money they had to offer for kindness: but the restlessness of the children suddenly made her a third party to the thought of cakes. She had no money. Her heart bled for the poor little hun- gry, apprehensive creatures. For a moment she half fan- cied she had her voice, and looked up at the windows of the pitiless houses with a bold look ; but there was a speedy mockery of her thought "You shall listen: you shall open ! " She coughed hoarsely, and then fell into fits of crying. Her friend the policeman came by and took her arm with a force that he meant to be persuasive ; so lifting her and handing her some steps beyond the limit of his beat, with stern directions for her to proceed home immediately. She obeyed. Next day she asked her hostess to lend her half-a-crown. The woman snapped shortly in answer : "No; the less you have the better." Emilia was obliged to abandon her little people. She was to this extent the creature of mania : that she could not conceive of a way being open by which she might return to her father and mother, or any of her friends. It was to her not a matter for her will to decide upon, but simply a black door shut that nothing could displace. When the week, for which term of shelter she had paid, was ended, her hostess spoke upon this point, saying, more to convince Emilia of the necessity for seeking her friends than from any unkindness : " Me and my husband can't go on keepin' you, you know, my dear, however well's our meaning." Emilia drew the woman toward her with both her hands, softly shaking her head. She left the house about noon. It was now her belief that she had probably no more than another day to live, for she was destitute of money, thought relieved her from that dreadful fear of the street, and she walked at her own pace, even after dark. The rum- ble and the rattle of wheels ; the cries and grinding noises ; 362 EMILIA IN ENGLAND the hum of motion and talk ; all under the lingering smoky red of a London Winter sunset, were not discord to her ani- mated blood. Her unhunted spirit made a music of them. It was not like the music of other days, nor was the exulta- tion it created at all like happiness : but she at least forgot herself. Voices came in her ear, and hung unheard until long after the speaker had passed. Hunger did not assail her. She was not beset by an animal weakness ; and having in her mind no image of death, and with her ties to life cut away ; thus devoid of apprehension or regret, she was what her quick blood made her, for the time. She recognized that, for one near extinction, it was useless to love or to hate : so Wilfrid and Lady Charlotte were spared. Emilia thought of them both with a sort of equanimity ; not that any clear thought filled her brain through that delirious night. The intoxicating music raged there at one level depression, never rising any scale, never undulating ever so little, scarcely changing its barbarous monotony of notes. She had no power over it. Her critical judgement would at another moment have shrieked at it. She was moved by it as by a mechanical force. The South-west wind blew, and the hours of the night were not evil to outcasts. Emilia saw many lying about, getting rest where they might. She hurried her eye pityingly over little children, but the devil that had seized her sprang con- tempt for the others older beggars, who appeared to suc- cumb to their fate when they should have lifted their heads up bravely. On she passed from square to market, market to park ; and presently her mind shot an arrow of desire for morning, which was nothing less than hunger beginning to stir. " When will the shops open ? " She tried to cheat herself by replying that she did not care when, but pangs of torment became too rapid for the counterfeit. Her imagina- tion raised the roof from those great rich houses, and laid bare a brilliancy of dish-covers ; and if any sharp gust of air touched the nerve in her nostril, it seemed instantaneously charged with the smell of old dinners. " No," cried Emilia, " I dislike anything but plain food." She quickly gave way, and admitted a craving for dainty morsels. " One lump of sugar!" she subsequently sighed. But neither sugar nor meat approached her. SHE TASTES DESPAIR 863 Her seat was under trees, between a man and a woman who slanted from her with hidden chins. The chilly dry leaves began to waken, and the sky showed its grey. Hunger had become as a leaden ball in Emilia's chest. She could have eaten eagerly still, but she had no ravenous images of food. Nevertheless, she determined to beg for bread at a baker's shop. Coming into the empty streets again, the dread of ex- posing her solitary wretchedness and the stains of night upon her, kept her back. When she did venture near the baker's shop, her sensation of weariness, want of washing, and gen- eral misery, made her feel a contrast to all other women she saw, that robbed her of the necessary effrontery. She pre- ferred to hide her head. The morning hours went in this conflict. She was between- whiles hungry and desperate, or stricken with shame. Fa- tigue, bringing the imperious necessity for rest, intervened as a relief. Emilia moaned at the weary length of the light, but when dusk fell and she beheld flame in the lamps, it seemed to be too sudden and she was alarmed. Passive despair had set in. She felt sick, though not weak, and the thought of asking help had gone. A street urchin, of the true London species, in whom excess of woollen comforter made up for any marked scantiness in the rest of his attire, came trotting the pavement, pouring one of the favourite tunes of his native metropolis through the tube of a penny-whistle, from which it did not issue so dis- guised but that attentive ears might pronounce it the royal march of the Cannibal Islands. A placarded post beside a lamp met this musician's eye ; and, still piping, he bent his knees and read the notification. Emilia thought of the Hill- ford and Ipley clubmen, the big drum, the speeches, the cheers, and all the wild strength that lay in her that happy morning. She watched the boy piping as if he were reading from a score, and her sense of humour was touched. " You foolish boy ! " she said to herself softly. But when, having evidently come to the last printed line, the boy rose and pocketed his penny-whistle, Emilia was nearly laughing. " That's because he cannot turn over the leaf," she said, and stood by the post till long after the boy had disappeared. The slight emotion of fun had restored to her some of her lost human sensations, and she looked about for a place where to 364 EMILIA IN ENGLAND indulge them undisturbed. One of the bridges was in sight. She yearned for the solitude of the wharf beside it, and hurried to the steps. To descend she had to pass a street-organ and a small figure bent over it. " Sei buon' Italiano ? " she said. The answer was a surly " SI." Emilia cried convulsively " Addio! " Her brain had become on a sudden vacant of a thought, and all she knew was that she descended. CHAPTER XLI SHE IS FOUND SEI buon' Italiana?" Across what chasm did the words come to her ? It seemed but a minute, and again many hours back, that she had asked that question of a little fellow, who, if he had looked. up and nodded would have given her great joy, but who kept his face dark from her and with a sullen " Si " extinguished her last feeling of a desire for companionship with life. " SI," she replied, quite as sullenly, and without looking up. But when her hand was taken and other words were uttered, she that had crouched there so long between death and life im- movable, loving neither, rose possessed of a passion for the darkness and the void, and struggling bitterly with the detain- ing hand, crying for instant death. No strength was in her to support the fury. " Merthyr Powys is with you," said her friend, " and will never leave you." " Will never take me up there ? " Emilia pointed to the noisy level above them. " Listen, and I will tell you how I have found you," replied Merthyr. " Don't force me to go up." She spoke from the end of her breath. Merthyr feared that it was more than misery, even madness, afflicting her. He sat on the wharf -bench silent till she was reassured. But at his first words, the eager question came : " You will not force me to go up there ? * SHE IS FOUND 865 " No ; we can stay and talk here," said Merthyr. " And this is how I have found you. Do you suppose you have been hidden from us all this time ? Perhaps you fancy you do not belong to your friends ? Well, I spoke to all 'your children,' as you used to call them. Do you remember ? The day before yesterday two had seen you. You said to one, ' From Savoy or Piedmont ? ' He said, ' From Savoy ; ' and you shook your head : ' Not looking on Italy ! ' you said. This night I roused one of them, and he stretched his finger down the steps, say- ing that you had gone down there. ' Sei buon' Italiano ? ' you said. And that is how I have found you. Sei buon' Italiana ? " Emilia let her hand rest in Merthyr's, wondering to think that there should be no absolute darkness for a creature to escape into while living. A trembling came on her. " Let me look over at the water," she said; and Merthyr, who trusted her even in that extremity, allowed her to lean for- ward, and felt her grasp grow moist in his, till she turned back with shudders, giving him both her hands. "A drowned woman looks so dreadful ! " Her speech was faint as she begged to be taken away from that place. Merthyr put his hand to her arm-pit, sustaining her steps. As they neared the level where men were, she looked behind her and real- ized the black terrors she had just been blindly handling. Fright sped her limbs for a second or two, and then her whole weight hung upon Merthyr. He held her in both arms, thinking that she had swooned, but she murmured: " Have you heard that my voice has gone ? " If you have suffered, I do not wonder," he said. " I am useless. My voice is dead." "Useless to your friends? Tush, my little Emilia! Sandra mia! Don't you know that while you love your friends that's all they want of you ? " "Oh!" she moaned; "the gas-lamp hurts me. What a noise there is!" " We shall soon get away from the noise." "No; I like it; but not the light Oh, my feet! why are you walking still ? What friends ? " " For instance, myself." " You knew of my wandering about London ! me believe m heaven. I can 't bear to thinlr f hem* unseen. n 366 EMILIA IN ENGLAND " This morning, " said Merthyr, " I saw the policeman in whose house you have been staying." Emilia bowed her head to the mystery by which this friend was endowed to be cognizant of her actions. " I feel that I have not seen the streets for years. If it were not for you I should fall down. Oh ! do you understand that my voice has quite gone?" Merthyr perceived her anxiety to be that she might not be taken on doubtful terms. "Your hand hasn't," he said, pressing it, and so gratified her with a concrete image of something that she could still bestow upon a friend. To this she clung while the noisy wheels bore her through London, till her weak body failed to keep courage in her breast, and she wept and came closer to Merthyr. He who supposed that her recent despair and present tears were for the loss of her lover, gave happily more comfort than he took. " When old gentlemen choose to interest themselves about very young ladies," he called upon his humorous phi- losophy to observe internally, as men do to forestall the pos- sible cynic external ; and the rest of the sentence was acted under his eyes by the figures of three persons. But there she was, lying within his arm, rescued, the creature whom he had found filling his heart, when lost, and whom he thought one of the most hopeful of the women of earth ! He thanked God for bare facts. She lay against him with her eyelids softly joined, and as he felt the breathing of her body, he marvelled to think how matter-of-fact they had both been on the brink of a tragedy, and how naturally she had, as it were, argued herself up to the gates of death. For want of what? " My sister may supply it, " thought Merthyr. " Oh ! that river is like a great black snake with a sick eye, and will come round me ! " said Emilia, talking as from sleep; then started, with fright in her face: "Oh! my hunger again ! " " Hunger ! " said he, horrified. " It comes worse than ever, " she moaned. " I was half dead just now, and didn't feel it. There's there's no pain in death. But this it's like fire and frost! I feel being eaten up. Give me something." Merthyr set his teeth and enveloped her in a tight hug that relieved her from the sharper pangs; and so held her, DEFECTION OF MR. PERICLES 867 the tears bursting through his shut eyelids, till at the first hotel they reached he managed to get food for her. She gave a little gasping cry when he put bread through the window of the cab. Bit by bit he handed her the morsels. It was impossible to procure broth. When they drove on, she did not complain of suffering, but her chest rose and fell many times heavily. She threw him out in the reading of her character, after a space, by excusing herself for hav- ing eaten with such eagerness; and it was long before he learnt what Wilfrid's tyrannous sentiment had done to this simple nature. He understood better the fear she expressed of meeting Georgiana. Nevertheless, she exhibited none on entering the house, and returned Georgiana's embrace with what strength was left to her. CHAPTER XLII DEFECTION OP MB. PERICLES FROM THE BROOKFIELD CIRCLE UP the centre aisle of Hillford Church, the Tinleys (late as usual) were seen trooping for morning service in mid- winter. There was a man in the rear known to be a man by the sound of his boots and measure of his stride, for the ladies of Brookfield, having rejected the absurd pretensions of Albert Tinley, could not permit curiosity to encounter the risk of meeting his gaze by turning their heads. So, with charitable condescension they returned the slight church nod of prim Miss Tinley passing, of the detestable Laura Tinley, of affected Rose Tinley (whose complexion was that of a dust-bin), and of Madeline Tinley (too young for a character beyond what the name bestowed), and then they arranged their prayer-books, and apparently speculated as to the possible text that morning to be given forth from the pulpit. But it seemed to them all that an exceedingly bulky object had passed as guardian of the light-footed dam- sels preceding him. Though none of the ladies had looked up as he passed, they were conscious of a stature and a cir- cumference which they had deemed to be entirely beyond 368 EMILIA IN ENGLAND the reach of the Tinleys, and a scornful notion of the Tin- leys having hired a guardsman, made Arabella smile at the stretch of her contempt, that could help her to conceive the ironic possibility. Relieved on the suspicion that Albert was in attendance of his sisters, they let their eyes fall calmly on the Tinley pew. Could two men upon this earthly sphere possess such a bearskin? There towered the shoul- ders of Mr. Pericles ; his head looking diminished by the hugeous collar. Arabella felt a seizure of her hand from Adela's side. She placed her book open before her, and stared at the pulpit. From neither of the three of Brook- field could Laura's observation extract a sign of the utter astonishment she knew they must be experiencing ; and had it not been for the ingenuous broad whisper of Mrs. Chump, which sounded toward the verge even of her conception of possibilities, the Tinleys would not have been gratified by the first public display of the prize they had wrested from the Poles. "Mr. Paricles oh!" went Mrs. Chump, and a great many pews were set in commotion. Forthwith she bent over Cornelia's lap, and Cornelia, surveying her placidly, had to murmur, "By-and-by; by- and-by." " But, did ye see 'm, my dear? and a forr'ner in a Protes- tant Church! And such a forr'ner as he is, to be sure! And, ye know, ye said he'd naver come with you, and it's them creatures ye don't like. Corrnelia! " "The service commences, " remarked that lady, standing up. Many eyes were on Mr. Pericles, who occasionally in- spected the cornices and corbels and stained glass to right and left, or detected a young lady staring at him, or antici- pated her going to stare, and put her to confusion by a sharp turn of his head, and then a sniff and smoothing down of his moustache. But he did not once look at the Brookfield pew. By hazard his eye ranged over it, and after the first performance of this trick he would have found the ladies a match for him, even if he had sought to challenge their eyes. They were constrained to admit that Laura Tinley managed him cleverly. She made him hold a book and appear respectably devout. She got him down in good time when seats were taken, and up again, without much trans- DEFECTION OF MB. PERICLES 369 parent persuasion. The first notes of the organ were seen to agitate the bearskin. Laura had difficulty to induce the man to rise for the hymn, and when he had listened to the intoning of a verse, Mr. Pericles suddenly bent, as if he had snapped in two: nor could Laura persuade him to rejoin the present posture of the congregation. Then only did Laura, to cover her failure, turn the subdued light of a merry smile upon the Brookfield pew. The smile was noticed by Apprehension sitting in the corner of one eye, and it was likewise known that Laura's chagrin at finding that she was not being watched affected her visibly. At the termination of the sermon, the ladies bowed their heads a short space, and placing Mrs. Chump in front drove her out, so that her exclamations of wonder- ment, and affectedly ostentatious gaspings of sympathy for Brookfield, were heard by few. On they hurried, straight and fast to Brookfield. Mr. Pole was talking to Tracy Run- ningbrook at the gate. The ladies cut short his needless apology to the young man for not being found in church that day, by asking questions of Tracy. The first related to their brother's whereabouts ; the second to Emilia's con- dition. Tracy had no time to reply. Mrs. Chump had identified herself with Brookfield so warmly that the defec- tion of Mr. Pericles was a fine legitimate excitement to her. " I hate 'm ! " she cried. " I pos'tively hate the man ! And he to go to church ! A pretty figure for an angel he, now! But, my dears, we cann't let anuybody else have 'm. Shorrt of his bein' drowned or killed, we must intrigue to keep the wretch to ourselves." " Oh, dear ! " said Adela impatiently. " Well, and I didn't say to myself, ye little jealous thing! retorted Mrs. Chump. "Indeed, ma'am, you are welcome to him." "And indeed, miss, I don't want 'm. And, perhaps, ye were flirtin' all the fun out of him on board the yacht, and got tired of 'm; and that's why." Adela said: "Thank you," with exasperating sedateness, which provoked an intemperate outburst from Mrs. Chump. " Sunday ! Sunday ! " cried Mr. Pole. "Ain't I the first to remember ut, Pole? And didn t get up airly so as to go to church and have my conscience 370 EMILIA IN ENGLAND qui't, and 'stead of that I come out full of evil passions, all for the sake o' these ungrateful garls that's always where ye cann't find 'em. Why, if they was to be married at the altar, they'd stare and be 'ffendud if ye asked them if they was thinking of their husbands, they would! 'Oh, dear, no! and ye're mistaken, and we're thinkin' o' the coal- scuttle in the back parlour, ' or somethin' about souls, if not coals. There's their answer. What did ye do with Mr. Paricles on board the yacht? Aha! " "What's this about Pericles?" said Mr. Pole. "Oh, nothing, Papa," returned Adela. " Nothing, do ye call ut ! " said Mrs. Chump. " And, may- hap, good cause too. Didn't ye tease 'm, now, on board the yacht? Now, did he go on board the yacht at all?" " I should think you ought to know that as well as Adela, " said Mr. Pole. Adela interposed, hurriedly: "All this, my dear Papa, is because Mr. Pericles has thought proper to visit the Tin- leys' pew. Who would complain how or where he does it, so long as the duty is fulfilled? " Mr. Pole stared, muttering : " The Tinleys ! " " She's botherin' of ye, Pole, the puss ! " said Mrs. Chump, certain that she had hit a weak point in that mention of the yacht. " Ask her what sorrt of behaviour " "And he didn't speak to any of you? " said Mr. Pole. "No, Papa." " He looked the other way? " "He did us that honour." "Ask her, Pole, how she behaved to 'm on board the yacht," cried Mrs. Chump. " Oh! there was flirtin', flirtin' ! And go and see what the noble poat says of tying up in sacks and plumpin' of poor bodies of women into forty fathoms by them Turks and Greeks, all because of jeal'sy. So, they make a woman in earnest there, the wretches, 'cause she cann't have onny of her jokes. Didn't ye tease Mr. Paricles on board the yacht, Ad'la? Now, was he there?" "Martha! you're a fool! " said Mr. Pole, looking the vic- tim of one of his fits of agitation. " Who knows whether he was there better than you? You'll be forgetting soon that we've ever dined together. I hate to see a woman so absurd! There nevermind! Go in: take off bonnet DEFECTION OF ME. PERICLBS 371 something anything! only I can't bear folly! Eh, Mr Kunningbrook?" " 'Deed, Pole, and ye're mad." Mrs. Chump crossed her hands to reply with full repose. "I'd like to know how I'm to know what I naver said." The scene was growing critical. Adela consulted the eyes of her sisters, which plainly said that this was her peculiar scrape. Adela ended it by going up to Mrs. Chump, taking her by the shoulders, and putting a kiss upon her forehead. "Now you will see better," she said. "Don't you know Mr. Pericles was not with us? As surely as he was with the Tinleys this morning ! " " And a nice morning it is ! " ejaculated Mr. Pole, trotting off hurriedly. "Does Pole think " Mrs. Chump murmured, with reference to her voyaging on the yacht. The kiss had bewildered her sequent sensations. "He does think, and will think, and must think," Adela prattled some persuasive infantine nonsense: her soul all the while in revolt against her sisters, who left her the work to do, and took the position of spectators and critics, con- demning an effort they had not courage to attempt. "By the way, I have to congratulate a friend of mine," said Tracy, selecting Adela for an ironical bow. "Then it is Captain Gambier," cried Mrs. Chump, as if a whole revelation had burst on her. Adela blushed. " Oh ! and what was that I heard?" continued the aggravating woman. Adela flashed her eyes round on her sisters. Even then they left her without aid, their feeling being that she had debased the house by her familiarity with this woman before Tracy. "Stay! didn't ye both " Mrs. Chump was saying. "Yes?" Adela passed by her "only in your ear* alone, you know!" At which hint Mrs. Chump gleefully turned and followed her. A rumour was prevalent of some misadventure to Adela and the captain on board the yacht Arabella saw her depart, thinking, " How singular is her propensity to imitate me ! " for the affirmative uttered in the tone of interrogation was quite Arabella's own; as also oc- casionally the negative, the negative, however, suiting 372 EMILIA IN ENGLAND the musical indifference of the sound, and its implied calm breast. " As for Pericles," said Tracy, " you need not wonder that the fellow prays in other pews than yours. By heaven ! he may pray and pray : I'd send him to Hades with an epigram in his heart ! '' From Tracy the ladies learnt that Wilfrid had inflicted public chastisement upon Mr. Pericles for saying a false thing of Emilia. " He danced the prettiest pas seul that was ever footed by debutant on the hot iron plates of Purgatory." They dared not ask what it was that Mr. Pericles had said, but Tracy was so vehement on the subject of his having met his deserts, that they partly guessed it to bear some relation to their sex's defencelessness, and they approved their brother's work. Sir Twickenham and Captain G-ambier dined at Brookfield that day. However astonishing it might be to one who knew his character and triumphs, the captain was a butterfly netted, and was on the highroad to an exhibition of himself pinned, with his wings outspread. During the service of the table Tracy relieved Adela from Mrs. Chump's inadverten- cies and little bits of feminine malice, but he could not help the captain, who blundered like a schoolboy in her rough hands. It was noted that Sir Twickenham reserved the tolerating smile he once had for her. Mr. Pole's nervous fretf ulness had increased. He complained in occasional un- derbreaths, correcting himself immediately with a " No, no ! " and blinking briskly. But after dinner came the time when the painf ullest scene was daily enacted. Mrs. Chump drank Port freely. To drink it fondly, it was necessary that she should have another rosy wineglass to nod to, and Mr. Pole, whose taste for wine had been weakened, took this post as his duty. The watchful, pinched features of the poor pale little man bloomed un- naturally, and his unintelligible eyes sparkled as he emptied his glass. His daughters knew that he drank, not for his pleasure, but for their benefit ; that he might sustain Martha Chump in the delusion that he was a fitting bridegroom, and with her money save them from ruin. Each evening, with remorse that blotted all perception of the tragic comicality of the show, they saw him, in his false strength and his anxiety DEFECTION OF ME. PERICLES 878 concerning his pulse's play, act this part The recurring words, " Now, Martha, here's the Port," sent a cold wave through their blood. They knew what the doctor remarked on the effect of that Port. " 111 ! " Mrs. Chump would cry, when she saw him wink after sipping ; " you, Pole ! what do they say of ye, ye deer ! " and she returned the wink, the ladies looking on. Not to drink a proper quantum of Port, when Port was on the table, was, in Mrs. Chump's eyes, mean for a man. Even Chump, she would say, was master of his bottle, and thought nothing of it. " Who does ? " cried her present suitor, and the Port ebbed, and his cheeks grew crimson. This frightful rivalry with the ghost of Alderman Chump continued night after night. The rapturous Martha was incapable of observing that if she drank with a ghost in memory, in reality she drank with nothing better than an animated puppet. The nights ended with Mr. Pole eithei sleeping in his arm-chair (upon which occasions one daughtei watched him and told dreadful tales of his waking), or stag- gering to bed, debating on the stairs between tea and brandy, complaining of a loss of sensation at his knee-cap, or elbow, or else rubbing his head and laughing hysterically. His bride was not at such moments observant No wonder Wilfrid kept out of the way, if he had not better occupation elsewhere. The ladies, in their utter anguish, after inveigh- ing against the baneful Port, had begged their father to de- lay no more to marry the woman. " Why ? " said Mr. Pole, sharply ; " what do you want me to marry her for ? " They were obliged to keep up the delusion, and said, " Because she seems suited to you as a companion." That satisfied him. " Oh ! we won't be in a hurry," he said, and named a dav within a month ; and not liking their unready faces, laughed, and dismissed the idea aloud, as if he had not earnestly been entertaining it. The ladies of Brookfield held no more their happy, energefa midnight consultations. They had begun to crave for sleep and a snatch of f orgetfulness, the scourge being daily on their flesh: and they had now no plans to discuss; they had no distant horizon of low vague lights that used ever to be be- yond their morrow. They kissed at the bedroom door of one, and separated. Silence was their only protection to the NIC* 374 EMILIA IN ENGLAND Feelings, now that Fine Shades had become impossible. Adela had almost made herself distinct from her sisters since the yachting expedition. She had grown severely careful of the keys of her writing-desk, and would sometimes slip the bolt of her bedroom door, and answer " Eh ? " dubiously in tone, when her sisters had knocked twice, and had said '' Open " once. The house of Brookfield showed those divi- sional rents which an admonitory quaking of the earth will create. Neither sister was satisfied with the other. Cor- nelia's treatment of Sir Twickenham was almost openly condemned, but at the same time it seemed to Arabella that the baronet was receiving more than the necessary amount of consolation from the bride of Captain Gambier, and that yacht habits and moralities had been recently imported to Brookfield. Adela, for her part, looked sadly on Arabella, and longed to tell her, as she told Cornelia, that if she con- tinued to play Freshfield Sumner purposely against Edward Buxley, she might lose both. Cornelia quietly measured accusations and judged impartially; her mind being too full to bring any personal observations to bear. She said, perhaps, less than she would have said, had she not known that hourly her own Nice Feelings had to put up a petition for Fine Shades : had she not known, indeed, that her con- duct would soon demand from her sisters an absolutely merciful interpretation. For she was now simply attract- ing Sir Twickenham to Brookfield as a necessary medicine to her Papa. Since Mrs. Chump's return, however, Mr. Pole had spoken cheerfully of himself, and, by innuendo empha- sized, had imparted that his mercantile prospects were brigb-ter. In fact, Cornelia half thought that he must have been pretending bankruptcy to gain his end in getting the consent of his daughters to receive the woman. She, and Adela likewise, began to suspect that the parental trans- parency was a little mysterious, and that there is, after all, more than we see in something that we see through. They were now in danger of supposing that because the old man had possibly deceived them to some extent, he had de- ceived them altogether. But was not the after-dinner scene too horribly true? Were not his hands moist and cold while the forehead was crimson? And could a human creature feel at his own pulse, and look into vacancy with DEFECTION OF MR. PERICLES 876 that intense apprehensive look, and be but an actor ? They could not think so. But his conditions being dependent upon them, the ladies felt in their hearts a spring of abso- lute rebellion when the call for fresh sacrifices came. Though they did not grasp the image, they had a feeling that he was nourished bit by bit by everything they held dear ; and though they loved him, and were generous, they had begun to ask, " What next ? " The ladies were at a dead-lock, and that the heart is the father of our histories, I am led to think when I look abroad on families stagnant because of so weak a motion of the heart. There are those who have none at all ; the mass of us are moved from the propulsion of the toes of the Fates. But the ladies of Brookfield had hearts lively enough to get them into scrapes. The getting out of them, or getting on at all, was left to Providence. They were at a dead-lock, for Arabella, flattered as she was by Freshfield Sumner's wooing, could not openly throw Edward over, whom indeed she thought that she liked the better of the two, though his letters had not so wide an intellectual range. Her father was irritably anxious that she should close with Edward. Adela could not move : at least, not openly. Cornelia might have taken an initiative ; but ten- derness for her father's health had hitherto restrained her, and she temporized with Sir Twickenham on the noblest of principles. She was, by the devotion of her conduct, enabled to excuse herself so far that she could even fish up an excuse in the shape of the effort she had made to find him entertaining : as if the said effort should really be re- payment enough to him for his assiduous and most futile suit. One deep grief sat on Cornelia's mind. She had heard from Lady Gosstre that there was something like madness in the Barrett family. She had consented to meet Sir Purcell clandestinely (after debate on his claim to such a sacrifice on her part), and if, on those occasions, her lover tone was raised, it gave her a tremour. And he had of late appeared to lose his noble calm ; he had spoken (it mig almost be interpreted) as if he doubted her. Once, * she had mentioned her care for her father, he had en out upon the name of father with violence, looking unlike himself. 376 EMILIA IN ENGLAND His condemnation of the world, too, was not so Christian as it had been; it betrayed what the vulgar would call spite, and was not all compassed in his peculiar smooth shrug expressive of a sort of border-land between con- tempt and charity: which had made him wear in her sight all the superiority which the former implies, with a con- siderable share of the benign complacency of the latter. This had gone. He had been sarcastic even to her; saying once, and harshly : " Have you a will ? " Personally she liked the poor organist better than the poor baronet, though he had less merit. It was unpleasant in her present mood to be told " that we have come into this life to fashion for ourselves souls ; " and that " whosoever cannot decide is a soulless wretch fit but to pass into vapour." He appeared to have ceased to make his generous allowances for difficult situations. A senseless notion struck Cornelia, that with the baronetcy he had perhaps inherited some of the madness of his father. The two were in a dramatic tangle of the Nice Feelings : worth a glance as we pass on. She wished to say to him, " You are unjust to my perplexities ; " and he to her, " You fail in your dilemma through cowardice." Instead of utter- ing which, they chid themselves severally for entertaining such coarse ideas of their idol. Doubtless they were silent from consideration for one another : but I must add, out of extreme tenderness for themselves likewise. There are people who can keep the facts that front them absent from their contemplation by not framing them in speech; and much benevolence of the passive order may be traced to a disinclination to inflict pain upon oneself. "My duty to my father," being cited by Cornelia, Sir Purcell had to contend with it. " True love excludes no natural duty," she said. And he : " Love discerns unerringly what is and what is not duty." " In the case of a father, can there be any doubt ? " she asked, the answer shining in her confident aspect. " There are many things that fathers may demand of us ! " he interjected bitterly. She had a fatal glimpse here of the false light in which his resentment coloured the relations between fathers and DEFECTION OF MR. PERICLES 877 children; and, deeming him incapable of conducting this argument, she felt quite safe in her opposition, up to a point where feeling stopped her. " Devotedness to a father I must conceive to be a child's first duty," she said. Sir Purcell nodded : " Yes ; a child's ! " " Does not history give the higher praise to children who sacrifice themselves for their parents ? " asked Cornelia. And he replied : " So, you seek to be fortified in such matters by history ! " Courteous sneers silenced her. Feeling told her she was in the wrong ; but the beauty of her sentiment was not to be contested, and therefore she thought that she might dis- trust feeling: and she went against it somewhat; at first veiy tentatively, for it caused pain. She marked a line where the light of duty should not encroach on the light of our human desires. "But love for a parent is not merely duty," thought Cornelia. " It is also love ; and is it not the least selfish love ? " Step by step Sir Purcell watched the clouding of her mind with false conceits, and knew it to be owing to the heart's want of vigour. Again and again he was tempted to lay an irreverent hand on the veil his lady walked in, and make her bare to herself. Partly in simple bitterness, he refrained : but the chief reason was that he had no comfort in giving a shock to his own state of deception. He would have had to open a dark closet ; to disentangle and bring to light what lay in an undistinguishable heap ; to disfigure her to her- self, and share in her changed eyesight ; possibly to be, or seem, coarse : so he kept the door of it locked, admitting sadly in his meditation that there was such a place, and saying all the while : " If I were not poor ! " He saw her running into the shelter of egregious sophisms, till it became an effort to him to preserve his reverence for her and the sex she represented. Finally he imagined that he perceived an idea coming to growth in her, no other than this : " That in duty to her father she might sacrifice herself, though still loving him to whom she* had given her heart; thus ennobling her love for father and for lover." With a wicked ingenuity he tracked her forming notions, encouraged them on, and provoked her enthusiasm by putting an ironical 378 EMILIA IN ENGLAND question: "Whether the character of the soul -was sub- dued and shaped by the endurance and the destiny of the perishable ? " " Oh ! no, no ! " she exclaimed. " It cannot be, or what comfort should we have ? " Few men knew better that when lovers' sentiments stray away from feeling, they are to be suspected of a disloy- alty. Yet he admired the tone she took. He had got an ' ideal ' of her which it was pleasanter to magnify than to distort. An ' ideal ' is so arbitrary, that if you only doubt of its being perfection, it will vanish and never come again. Sir Purcell refused to doubt. He blamed himself for hav- ing thought it possible to doubt, and this, when all the time he knew. Through endless labyrinths of delusion these two unhappy creatures might be traced, were it profitable. Down what a vale of little intricate follies should we be going, lighted by one ghastly conclusion ! At times, struggling from the midst of her sophisms, Cornelia prayed her lover would claim her openly, and so nerve her to a pitch of energy that would clinch the ruinous debate. Forgetting that she was an ' ideal ' the accredited mistress of pure wisdom and of the power of deciding rightly she prayed to be dealt with as a thoughtless person, and one of the herd of women. She felt that Sir Purcell threw too much on her. He expected her to go calmly to her father, and to Sir Twickenham, and tell them individually that her heart was engaged; then with a stately figure to turn, quit the house, and lay her hand in his. He made no allowance for the weakness of her sex, for the difficulties surrounding her, for the consid- eration due to Sir Twickenham's pride, and to her father's ill-health. She half-protested to herself that he expected from her the mechanical correctness of a machine, and over- looked the fact that she was human. It was a grave com- ment on her ambition to be an ' ideal.' So let us leave them, till we come upon the ashy fruit of which this blooming sentimentalism is the seed. It was past midnight when Mrs. Chump rushed to Ara- bella's room, and her knock was heard vociferous at the door. The ladies, who were at work upon diaries and letters, DEFECTION OF MR. PERICLES 879 allowed her to thump and wonder whether she had come to the wrong door, for a certain period ; after which, Arabella placidly unbolted her chamber, and Adela presented herself in the passage to know the meaning of the noise. " Oh ! ye poor darlin's, I've heard ut all, I have." This commencement took the colour from their cheeks. Arabella invited her inside, and sent Adela for Cornelia. " Oh, and ye poor deers ! " cried Mrs. Chump to Arabella, who remarked : " Pray wait till my sisters come ; " causing the woman to stare and observe : " If ye're not as cold as the bottom of a pot that naver felt fire." She repeated this to Cornelia and Adela as an accusation, and then burst on : " My heart's just breakin' for ye, and ye shall naver want bread, eh ! and roast beef, and my last bottle of Port ye'll share, though ye've no ideea what a lot o' thoughts o' poor Chump's under that cork, and it'll be a waste on you. Oh ! and that monster of a Mr. Paricles that's got ye in his power and's goin' to be the rroon of ye shame to 'm ! Your father's told me; and, oh ! my darlin' garls, don't think ut my fault. For, Pole Pole " Mrs. Chump was choked by her grief. The ladies, un- bending to some curiosity, eliminated from her gasps and sobs that Mr. Pole had, in the solitude of his library below, accused her of causing the defection of Mr. Pericles, and traced his possible ruin to it, confessing, that in the way of business, he was at Mr. Pericles' mercy. " And in such a passion with me ! " Mrs. Chump wrung her hands. " What could I do to Mr. Paricles ? He isn': one o' the men that I can kiss ; and Pole shouldn't wish me And Pole settin' down his rroon to me! What'll I do? My dears ! I do feel for ye, for I feel I'd feel myself such a beast, without money, d'ye see? It's the most horrible thing in the world. It's like no candle in the darrk. And I, ye know, I know I'd naver forgive annybody that took my money; and what'll Pole think of me? For oh! ye may call riches temptation, but poverty's punishment ; and I heard a young curate say that from the pulpit, and he was lean enough to know, poor fella ! " Both Cornelia and Arabella breathed more freely when they had heard Mrs. Chump's tale to an end. They knew perfectly well that she was blameless for the defection of 880 EMILIA IN ENGLAND Mr. Pericles, and understood from her exclamatory narra- tive that their father had reason to feel some grave alarm at the Greek's absence from their house, and had possibly reasons of his own for accusing Mrs. Chump, as he had done. The ladies administered consolation to her, telling her that for their part they would never blame her ; even consenting to be kissed by her, hugged by her, playfully patted, complimented, and again wept over. They little knew what a fervour of secret devotion they created in Mrs. Chump's bosom by this astounding magnanimity displayed to her, who laboured under the charge of being the source of their ruin ; nor could they guess that the little hypocrisy they were practising would lead to any singular and preg- nant resolution in the mind of the woman, fraught with explosion to their house, and that quick movement which they awaited. Mrs. Chump, during the patient strain of a tender hug of Arabella, had mutely resolved in a great heat of gratitude that she would go to Mr. Pericles, and, since he was neces- sary to the well-being of Brookfield, bring him back, if she had to bring him back in her arms. CHAPTER XLIII IN WHICH WE SEE WILFKID KINDLING Georgiana Ford to Wilfrid " I HAVE omitted replying to your first letter, not because of the nature of its contents : nor do I write now in answer to your second because of the permission you give me to lay it before my brother. I cannot think that concealment is good, save for very base persons ; and since you take the initiative in writing very openly, I will do so likewise. " It is true that Emilia is with me. Her voice is lost, and she has fallen as low in spirit as one can fall and still give us hope of her recovery. But that hope I have, and I am confident that you will not destroy it. In the summer she IN WHICH WE SEE WILFRID KINDLING 881 goes with us to Italy. We have consulted one doctor, who did not prescribe medicine for her. In the morning she reads with my brother. She seems to forget whatever she reads: the occupation is everything necessary just now. Our sharp Monmouth air provokes her to walk briskly when she is out, and the exercise has once or twice given colour to her cheeks. Yesterday being a day of clear frost, we drove to a point from which we could mount the Buckstone, and here, my brother says, the view appeared to give her some- thing of her lost animation. It was a look that I had never seen, and it soon went : but in the evening she asked me whether I prayed before sleeping, and when she retired to her bedroom, I remained there with her for a time. " You will pardon me for refusing to let her know that you have written to your relative in the Austrian service to obtain a commission for you. But, on the other hand, I have thought it right to tell her incidentally that you will be married in the Summer of this year. I can only say that she listened quite calmly. "I beg that you will not blame yourself so vehemently. By what you do, her friends may learn to know that you regret the strange effect produced by certain careless words, or conduct: but I cannot find that self-accusation is ever good at all. In answer to your question, I may add that she has repeated nothing of what she said when we were together in Devon. " Our chief desire (for, as we love her, we may be directed by our instinct), in the attempt to restore her, is to make her understand that she is anything but worthless. She has recently followed my brother's lead, and spoken of herself, but with a touch of scorn. This morning, while the clear frosty sky continues, we were to have started for an old castle lying toward Wales ; and I think the idea of a castle must have struck her imagination, and forced some internal contrast on her mind. I am repeating my brother's sugges- tion she seemed more than usually impressed with an idea that she was of no value to anybody. She asked why she should go anywhere, and dropped into a chair, begging to be allowed to stay in a darkened room. My brother has some strange intuition of her state of mind. She has lost any power she may have had of grasping abstract ideas. In whm* 382 EMILIA IN ENGLAND I conceived to be play, he told her that many would buy her even now. She appeared to be speculating on this, and then wished to know how much those persons would consider her to be worth, and who they were. Nor did it raise a smile on her face to hear my brother mention Jews, and name an absolute sum of money ; but, on the contrary, after evidently thinking over it, she rose up, and said that she was ready to go. I write fully to you, telling you these things, that you may see she is at any rate eager not to despair, and is learn- ing, much as a child might learn it, that it need not be. " Believe me, that I will in every way help to dispossess your mind of the remorse now weighing upon you, as far as it shall be within my power to do so. "Mr. Runningbrook has been invited by my brother to come and be her companion. They have a strong affection for one another. He is a true poet, full of reverence for a true woman." Wilfrid to Georgiana Ford " I cannot thank you enough. When I think of her I am unmanned; and if I let my thoughts fall back upon myself, I am such as you saw me that night in Devon helpless, and no very presentable figure. But you do not picture her to me. I cannot imagine whether her face has changed ; and, pardon me, were I writing to you alone, I could have faith that the delicate insight and angelic nature of a woman would not condemn my desire to realize before my eyes the state she has fallen to. I see her now under a black shroud. Have her features changed ? I cannot remember one only at an interval her eyes. Does she look into the faces of people as she used ? Or does she stare carelessly away ? Softly between the eyes, is what I meant. I mean but my reason for this particularity is very simple. I would state it to you, and to no other. I cannot have peace till she is restored; and my prayer is, that I may not haunt her to defeat your labour. Does her face appear to show that I am quite absent from her thoughts ? Oh ! you will understand me. You have seen me stand and betray no suffering when a shot at my forehead would have been mercy. To you I will dare to open my heart. I wish to be certain that I have not injured her that is all. Per- IN WHICH WE SEE WILFRID KINDLING 388 haps I am more guilty than you think : more even than I can call to mmd. If I may judge by the punishment, my guilt is immeasurable. Tell me if you will but tell me that the sacrifice of my life to her will restore her, it is hers. Write, and say this, and I will come. Do not delay or spare me. Her dumb voice is like a ghost in my ears. It cries to me that I have killed it. Be actuated by no charitable considerations in refraining to write. Could a miniature of her be sent? You will think the request strange ; but I want to be sure she is not haggard not the hospital face I fancy now, which accuses me of murder. Does she preserve the glorious freshness she used to wear ? She had a look or did you see her before the change ? I only want to know that she is well." Tracy Runningbrook to Wilfrid " You had my promise that I would write and give your conscience a nightcap. I have a splendid one for you. Put it on without any hesitation. I find her quite comfortable Powys reads Italian with her in the morning. His sister (who might be a woman if she liked, but has an insane preference for celestial neutrality) does the moral inculca- tion. The effect is comical. I should like you to see Cold Steel leading Tame Fire about, and imagining the taming to be her work ! You deserve well of your generation. You just did enough to set this darling girl alight. Knights and squires numberless will thank you. The idea of your reproaching yourself is monstrous. Why, there's no one thanks you more than she does. You stole her voice, which some may think a pity, but I don't, seeing that I would rather have her in a salon than before the footlights. Imagine my glory in her ! she has become half cat I She moves softly, as if she loved everything she touched; making you throb to feel the little ball of her foot Her eyes look steadily, like green jewels before the veil of an Egyptian temple. Positively, her eyes have grown green or greenish! They were darkish hazel formerly, and talked more of milkmaids and chattering pastorals than a discerning master would have wished. Take credit for th* change ; and at least / don't blame you for the tender hoi. 384 EMILIA IN ENGLAND lows under the eyes, sloping outward, just hinted . . . Love's mark on her, so that men's hearts may faint to know that love is known to her, and burn to read her history. When she is about to speak, the upper lids droop a very little ; or else the under lids quiver upward I know not which. Take further credit for her manner. She has now a manner of her own. Some of her naturalness has gone, but she has skipped clean over the 'young lady' stage; from raw girl she has really got as much of the great man- ner as a woman can have who is not an ostensibly retired dowager, or a matron on a pedestal shuffling the naked virt- ues aud the decorous vices together. She looks at you with an immense, marvellous gravity, before she replies to you enveloping you in a velvet light. This is fact, not fine stuff, my dear fellow. The light of her eyes does abso- lutely cling about you. Adieu ! You are a great master, and know exactly when to make your bow and retire. A little more, and you would have spoilt her. Now she is perfect." Wilfrid to Tracy Runningbrook " I have just come across a review of your last book, and send it, thinking you may wish to see it. I have put a query to one of the passages, which I think misquoted : and there will be no necessity to call your attention to the critic's English. You can afford to laugh at it, but I confess it puts your friends in a rage. Here are a set of fellows who arm themselves with whips and stand in the public thor- oughfare to make any man of real genius run the gauntlet down their ranks till he comes out flayed at the other ex- tremity ! What constitutes their right to be there ? By the way, I met Sir Purcell Barrett (the fellow who was at Hill- ford), and he would like to write an article on you that should act as a sort of rejoinder. You won't mind, of course it's bread to him, poor devil ! I doubt whether I shall see you when you come back, so write a jolly lot of letters. Colonel Pierson, of the Austrian army, my uncle (did you meet him at Brookfield ?), advises me to sell out immediately. He is getting me an Imperial commission cavalry. I shall give up the English service. And if they want my medal, they can have it, and I'll begin again. I'm sick of everything except IN WHICH WE SEE WILFBID KINDLING 386 a cigar and a good volume of poems. Here's to light one, and now for the other ! '"Large eyes lit up by some imperial sin,' " etc. (Ten lines from Tracy's book are here copied neatly.) Tracy Runningbrook to Wilfrid " Why the deuce do you write me such infernal trash about the opinions of a villanous dog who can't even pen a decent sentence ? I've been damning you for a white-livered Aus- trian up and down the house. Let the fellow bark till he froths at the mouth, and scatters the virus of the beast among his filthy friends. I am mad-dog proof. The lines you quote were written in an awful hurry, coming up in the train from Richford one morning. You have hit upon my worst with commendable sagacity. If it will put money in Barrett's pocket, let him write. I should prefer to have nothing said. The chances are all in favour of his writing like a fool. If you're going to be an Austrian, we may have a chance of shooting one another some day, so here's my hand before you go and sell your soul ; and anything I can do in the meantime command me." Georgiana Ford to Wilfrid " I do not dare to charge you with a breach of your pledged word. Let me tell you simply that Emilia has become aware of your project to enter the Austrian service, and it has had the effect on her which I foresaw. She could bear to hear of your marriage, but this is too much for her, and it breaks my heart to see her. It is too cruel. She does not betray any emotion, but I can see that every principle she had gained is gone, and that her bosom holds the shadows of a real despair. I foresaw it, and sought to guard her against it. That you, whom she had once called (to me) her lover, should enlist himself as an enemy of her country ! it comes to her as a fact striking her brain dumb while she questions it, and the poor body has nothing to do but to ache. Surely you could have no object in doing this ? I will not suspect it Kunningbrook is acquainted with your plans, I believe ; but he has no remembrance of having mentioned this one to Emilia. He distinctly assures me that he has not done so, 386 EMILIA IN ENGLAND and I trust him to speak truth. How can it have happened ? But here is the evil done. I see no remedy. I am not skilled in sketching the portraits you desire of her, and yet, if you have ever wished her to know this miserable thing, it would be as well that you should see the different face that has come among us within twenty hours." Wilfrid to Georgiana Ford " I will confine my reply to a simple denial of having caused this fatal intelligence to reach her ears ; for the truth of which, I pledge my honour as a gentleman. A second's thought would have told me indeed I at once acquiesced in your view that she should not know it. How it has happened it is vain to attempt to guess. Can you suppose that I de- sired her to hate me ? Yet this is what the knowledge of the step I am taking will make her do ! If I could see if I might see her for five minutes, I should be able to explain everything, and, I sincerely think (painful as it would be to me), give her something like peace. It is too late even to wish to justify myself ; but her I can persuade that she Do you not see that her mind is still unconvinced of my I will call it baseness ! Is this the self -accusing you despise ? A little of it must be heard. If I may see her I will not fail to make her understand my position. She shall see that it is I who am worthless not she ! You know the circum- stances under which I last beheld her when I saw pang upon pang smiting her breast from my silence ! But now I may speak. Do not be prepossessed against my proposal ! It shall be only for five minutes no more. Not that it is my desire to come. In truth, it could not be. I have felt that I alone can cure her I who did the harm. Mark me : she will fret secretly , but dear and kindest lady, do not smile too critically at the tone I adopt. I cannot tell how I am writing or what saying. Believe me that I am deeply and constantly sensible of your generosity. In case you hesitate, I beg you to consult Mr. Powys." Georgiana Ford to Wilfrid " I had no occasion to consult my broLjer to be certain that an interview between yourself and Emilia should not take IN WHICH WE SEE WILFRID KINDLING 387 place. There can be no object, even if the five minutes of the meeting gave her happiness, why the wound of the long part- ing should be again opened. She is wretched enough now, though her tenderness for us conceals it as far as possible. When some heavenly light shall have penetrated her, she will have a chance of peace. The evil is not of a nature to be driven out by your hands. If you are not going into the Austrian service, she shall know as much immediately. Otherwise, be as dead to her as you may, and your noblest feelings cannot be shown under any form but that" Wilfrid to Tracy Runningbrook " Some fellows whom I know want you to write a prologue to a play they are going to get up. It's about Shakespeare at least, the proceeds go to something of that sort. Do, (ike a good fellow, toss us off twenty lines. Why don't you write ? By the way, I hope there's no truth in a report that has somehow reached me, that they have the news down in Monmouth of my deserting to the black-yellow squadrons ? Of course, such a thing as that should have been kept from them. I hear, too, that your I suppose I must call her now your pupil is falling into bad health. Think me as cold and * British ' as you like ; but the thought of this does really affect me painfully. Upon my honour, it does ! ' And now he yawns ! ' you're saying. You're wrong. We Army men feel just as you poets do, and for a longer time, I think, though perhaps not so acutely. I send you the 'Venus' cameo which you admired. Pray accept it from an old friend. I mayn't see you again." Tracy Runningbrook to Wilfrid (enclosing lines) " Here they are. It will require a man who knows some- thing about metre to speak them. Had Shakespeare's grandmother three Christian names ? and did she anticipate feminine posterity in her rank of life by saying habitually, ' Drat it ? ' There is as yet no Society to pursue this inves- tigation, but it should be started. Enormous thanks for the Venus. I wore it this morning at breakfast. Just as Wt 388 EMILIA IN ENGLAND were rising, I leaned forward to her, and she jumped up with her eyes under my chin. ' Isn't she a beauty ? ' I said. ' It was his/ she answered, changing eyes of eagle for eyes of dove, and then put out the lights. I had half a mind to offer it, on the spot. May I ? That is to say, if the im- pulse seizes me I take nobody's advice, and fair Venus cer- tainly is not under my chin at this moment. As to ill health, great mother Nature has given a house of iron to this soul of fire. The windows may blaze, or the windows may be extinguished, but the house stands firm. When you are lightning or earthquake, you may have something to re- proach yourself for ; as it is, be under no alarm. Do not put words in my mouth that I have not uttered. ' And now he yawns,' is what I shall say of you only when I am sure you have just heard a good thing. You really are the best fellow of your set that I have come across, and the only one pretending to brains. Your modesty in estimating your value as a leader of Pandours will be pleasing to them who like that modesty. Good-bye. This little Emilia is a mar- vel of flying moods. Yesterday she went about as if she said, 'I've promised Apollo not to speak till to-morrow.' To-day, she's in a feverish gabble or began the day with a burst of it ; and now she's soft and sensible. If you fancy a girl at her age being able to see, that it's a woman's duty to herself and the world to be artistic to perfect the thing of beauty she is meant to be by nature ! and, seeing, too, that Love is an instrument like any other thing, and that we must play on it with considerate gentleness, and that tearing at it or dashing it to earth, making it howl and quiver, is madness, and not love ! I assure you she begins to see it ! She does see it. She is going to wear a wreath of black briony (preserved and set by Miss Ford, a person cunning in these matters). She's going to the ball at Pen- arvon Castle, and will look supply your favourite slang word. A little more experience, and she will have malice. She wants nothing but that to make her consummate. Malice is the barb of beauty. She's just at present a trifle blunt. She will knock over, but not transfix. I am anxious to watch the effect she produces at Penarvon. Poor little 'woman ! I paid a compliment to her eyes. ' I've got noth- ing else,' said she. Dine as well as you can while you are ON THE HLPPOGRIFF IN AIB 889 in England. German cookery is an education for the senti- ment of hogs. The play of sour and sweet, and crowning of the whole with fat, shows a people determined to go down in civilization, and try the business backwards. Adieu, curst Croat ! On the Wallachian border mayst thou gather philosophy from meditation." CHAPTER XLFV ON THE HIPPOGRIFF IN AIB: IN WHICH THE PHIL08OPHKB HAS A SHORT SPELL DEXTEROUSLY as Wilfrid has turned Tracy to his uses by means of the foregoing correspondence, in doing so he had exposed himself to the retributive poison administered by that cunning youth. And now the Hippogriff seized him, and mounted with him into mid-air ; not as when the idle boy Ganymede was caught up to act as cup-bearer in celes- tial Courts, but to plunge about on yielding vapours, with nothing near him save the voice of his desire. The Philosopher here peremptorily demands the pulpit. We are subject, he says, to fantastic moods, and shall dry ready-minted phrases picture them forth ? As, for example, can the words ' delirium,' or ' frenzy,' convey an image of Wilfrid's state, when his heart began to covet Emilia again, and his sentiment not only interposed no obstacle, but trumpeted her charms and fawned for her, and he thought her lost, remembered that she had been his own, and was ready to do any madness to obtain her ? ' Madness ' is the word that hits the mark, but it does not fully embrace the meaning. To be in this state, says the Philosopher, is to be ON THE HIPPOGRIFF; and to this, as he explains, the persons who travel to Love by the road of sentiment will come, if they have any stuff in them, and if the one who kindles them is mighty. He distinguishes being on the Hippogriff from being possessed by passion. Passion, he says, is noble strength on Jire, and points to Emilia as a rep- resentation of passion. She asks for what she thinks she 390 EMILIA IN ENGLAND may have; she claims what she imagines to be her own. She has no shame, and thus, believing in, she never violates, nature, and offends no law, wild as she may seem. Passion does not turn on her and rend her when it is thwarted. She was never carried out of the limit of her own intelligent force, seeing that it directed her always, with the simple mandate to seek that which belonged to her. She was per- fectly sane, and constantly just to herself, until the failure of her voice, telling her that she was a beggar in the world, came as r second blow, and partly scared her reason. Con- stantly just to herself, mind ! This is the quality of true passion. Those who make a noise, and are not thus dis- tinguishable, are on Hippogriff. By which it is clear to me that my fantastic Philoso- pher means to indicate the lover mounted in this wise, as a creature bestriding an extraneous power. "The sentimen- talist," he says, " goes on accumulating images and hiving sensations, till such time as (if the stuff be in him) they as- sume a form of vitality, and hurry him headlong. This is not passion, though it amazes men, and does the madder thing." In fine, it is Hippogriff. And right loath am I to con- tinue my partnership with a fellow who will not see things on the surface, and is, as a necessary consequence, blind to the fact that the public detest him. I mean, this garrulous, super-subtle, so-called Philosopher, who first set me upon the building of THE THREE VOLUMES, it is true, but whose stipulation that he should occupy so large a portion of them has made them rock top-heavy, to the forfeit of their stabil- ity. He maintains that a story should not always flow, or, at least, not to a given measure. When we are knapsack on back, he says, we come to eminences where a survey of our journey past and in advance is desireable, as is a dis- tinct pause in any business, here and there. He points proudly to the fact that our people in this comedy move themselves, are moved from their own impulsion, and that no arbitrary hand has posted them to bring about any event and heap the catastrophe. In vain I tell him that he is meantime making tatters of the puppets' golden robe illusion : that he is sucking the blood of their warm human- ity out of them. He promises that when Emilia is in Italy ON THE HIPPOGRIFF IN AIB 391 he will retire altogether ; for there is a field of action, of battles and conspiracies, nerve and muscle, where life fights for plain issues, and he can but sum results. Let us, he en- treats, be true to time and place. In our fat England, the gardener Time is playing all sorts of delicate freaks in the hues and traceries of the flower of life, and shall we not note them ? If we are to understand our species, and mark the progress of civilization at all, we must. Thus the Phi- losopher. Our partner is our master, and I submit, hopefully looking for release with my Emilia, in the day when Italy reddens the sky with the banners of a land revived. I hear Wilfrid singing out that he is aloft, burning to rush ahead, while his beast capers in one spot, abominably ludi- crous. This trick of Hippogriff is peculiar, viz., that when he loses all faith in himself, he sinks in other words, goes to excesses of absurd humility to regain it. Passion has like- wise its panting intervals, but does nothing so preposterous. The wreath of black briony, spoken of by Tracy as the crown of Emilia's forehead, had begun to glow with a fur- nace-colour in Wilfrid's fancy. It worked a Satanic dis- traction in him. The girl sat before him swathed in a darkness, with the edges of the briony leaves shining deadly -radiant above young Hecate! The next instant he was bleeding with pity for her, aching with remorse, and again stung to intense jealousy of all who might behold her (amid a reserve of angry sensations at her present happi- ness). Why had she not made allowance for his miserable situa- tion that night in Devon? Why did she not comprehend his difficulties in relation to his father's affairs? Why did she not know that he could not fail to love her for ever? Interrogations such as these were so many switches of the whip in the flanks of Hippogriff. Another peculiarity of the animal gifted with wings that around the height he soars to he can see no barriers nor any of the fences raised by men. And here again h differs from Passion, which may tug against common sense but is never, in a great nature, divorced from it. In air on Hippogriff, desires wax boundless, obstacles are hidden. It seemed nothing to Wilfrid (after several tremendoi descents of humility) that he should hurry for Monmouth 392 EMILIA IN ENGLAND away, to gaze on Emilia under her fair, infernal, bewitch- ing wreath; nothing that he should put an arm round her; nothing that he should forthwith carry her off, though he died for it. Forming no design beyond that of setting his eyes on her, he turned the head of Hippogriff due Westward. CHAPTER XLV ON THE HIPPOGRIFF ON EARTH PENARVON CASTLE lay over the borders of Monmouth- shire. Thither, on a night of frosty moonlight, troops of carriages were hurrying with the usual freightage for a country ball : the squire who will not make himself happy by seeing that his duty to the softer side of his family must be performed during the comfortable hours when bachelors snooze in arm-chairs, and his nobler dame who, not caring for Port or tobacco, cheerfully accepts the order of things as bequeathed to her : the everlastingly half -satisfied young man, who looks forward to the hour when his cigar-light will shine ; and the damsel thrice demure as a cover for her eagerness. Within a certain distance of one of the car- riages, a man rode on horseback. The court of the castle was reached, and he turned aside, lingering to see whether he could get a view of the lighted steps. To effect his object, he dismounted and led his horse through the gates, turning from gravel to sward, to keep in the dusk. A very agile middle-aged gentleman was the first to appear under the portico-lamps, and he gave his hand to a girl of fifteen, and then to a most portly lady in a scarlet mantle. The carriage-door slammed and drove off, while a groan issued from the silent spectator. " Good heavens ! have I followed these horrible people for five-and-twenty miles ! " Carriage after carriage rattled up to the steps, was disburdened of still more 'horrible people' to him, and went the way of the others. "I shan't see her, after all," he cried hoarsely, and mounting, said to the beast that bore him, "Now go sharp." ON THE HIPPOGBIFF OX EABTH 393 Whether you recognize the rider of Hippogriff or not. this is he; and the poor livery-stable screw stretched madly 1 wind failed, when he was allowed to choose his pace. Wilfrid had come from London to have sight of Emihaiii the black-briony wreath: to see her, himself unseen, and go. But he had not seen her; so he had the full excuse to- continue the adventure. He rode into a Welsh town, and engaged a fresh horse for the night. " She won't sing, at all events," thought Wilfrid, to com- fort himself, before the memory that she could not, in any case, touched springs of weakness and pitying tenderness. From an eminence to which he walked outside the town, Penarvon was plainly visible with all its lighted windows. "But I will pluck her from you!" he muttered, in a spasm of jealousy; the image of himself as an outcast against the world that held her, striking him with great force at that moment. "I must give up the Austrian commission, if she takes me." And be what? For he had sold out of the English ser- vice, and was to receive the money in a couple of days. How long would the money support him? It would not pay half his debts ! What, then, did this pursuit of Emilia mean? To blink this question, he had to give the spur to Hippogriff. It meant (upon Hippogriff at a brisk gallop), that he intended to live for her, die for her, if need be, and carve out of the world all that she would require. Every- thing appears possible, on Hippogriff, when he is going; but it is a bad business to put the spur on so willing a beast. When he does not go of his own will ; when he sees that there are obstructions, it is best to jump off his back. And we should abandon him then, save that having once tasted what he can do for us, we become enamoured of the habit of going keenly, and defying obstacles. Thus do we begin to corrupt the uses of the gallant beast (for he is a gallant beast, though not of the first order) ; we spoil his instincts ind train him to hurry us to perdition. "If my sisters could see me now!" thought Wilfrid, naif -smitten with a distant notion of a singularity in his position there, the mark for a frosty breeze, while his eyes kept uudeviating watch over Penarvon. 394 EMILIA IN ENGLAND After a time he went back to the inn, and got among coachmen and footmen, all battling lustily against the frost with weapons scientifically selected at the bar. They thronged the passages, and lunged hearty punches at one another, drank and talked, and only noticed that a gentle- man was in their midst when he moved to get a light. One complained that he had to drive into Monmouth that night, by a road that sent him five miles out of his way, owing to a block a great stone that had fallen from the hill. " You can't ask 'em to get out and walk- ten steps," he said; "or there! I'd lead the horses and just tip up the off wheels, and round the place in a twinkle, pop 'm in again, and nobody hurt; but you can't ask ladies to risk catchin' colds for the sake of the poor horses." Several coachmen spoke upon this, and the shame and marvel it was that the stone had not been moved; and between them the name of Mr. Powys was mentioned, with the remark that he would spare his beasts if he could. "What's that block you're speaking of, just out of Mon- mouth?" enquired Wilfrid; and it being described to him, together with the exact bearings of the road and situation of the mass of stone, he at once repeated a part of what he had heard in the form of the emphatic interrogation, " What ! there? " and flatly told the coachman that the stone had been moved. " It wasn't moved this morning, then, sir," said the latter. "No; but a great deal can be done in a couple of hours," said Wilfrid. "Did you see 'em at work, sir?" " No ; but I came that way, and the road was clear. " " The deuce it was ! " ejaculated the coachman, willingly convinced. "And that's the way I shall return," added Wilfrid. He tossed some money on the bar to aid in warming the assemblage, and received numerous salutes as he passed out. His heart was beating fast. " I shall see her, in the teeth of my curst luck," he thought, picturing to himself the blessed spot where the mass of stone would lie ; and to that point he galloped, concentrating all the light in his mind on this maddest of chances, till it looked sound, and finally certain. RAPE OP THE BLACK-BRIONY WREATH 3!'., "It's certain, if that's not a hired coachman," he calcu- lated. " If he is, he won't risk his fee. If he isn't, he'll feel on the safe side anyhow. At any rate, it's my only chance." And away he flew between glimmering slopes of frost to where a white curtain of mist hung across the wooded hills of the Wye. CHAPTER XLVI RAPE OF THE BLACK-BRIONY WREATH EMILIA was in skilful hands, and against anything less powerful than a lover mounted upon Hippogriff, might have been shielded. What is poison to most girls, Merthyr prescribed for her as medicine. He nourished her fainting spirit upon vanity. In silent astonishment Georgiana heard him address speeches to her such as dowagers who have seen their day can alone of womankind complacently swallow. He encouraged Tracy Runningbrook to praise the face of which she had hitherto thought shyly. Jewels were placed at her disposal, and dresses laid out cunningly suited to her complexion. She had a maid to wait on her, who gabbled at the momentous hours of robing and unrob- ing: "Oh, miss! of all the dark young ladies I ever see!" Emilia was the most bewitching. By-and-by, Emilia was led to think of herself; but with a struggle and under protest. How could it be possible that she was so very nice to the eye, and Wilfrid had abandoned her? The healthy spin of young new blood turned the wheels of her brain, and then she thought: "Perhaps I am really growing hand- some ? " The maid said artfully of her hair : " If gentlemen could only see it down, miss ! It's the longest, and thick- est, and blackest, I ever touched!" And so saying, slid her fingers softly through it after the comb, and thrilled the owner of that hair till soft thoughts made her bosom heave, and then self-love began to be sensibly awakened, followed by self-pity, and some further form of what we understand as consciousness. If partially a degradation 396 EMILIA IN ENGLAND of her nature, this saved her mind from true despair when it began to stir after the vital shock that had brought her to earth. "To what purpose should I be fair?" was a question that did not yet come to her ; but it was sweet to see Merthyr's eyes gather pleasure from the light of her own. Sweet, though nothing more than coldly sweet. She compared herself to her father's old broken violin, that might be mended to please the sight; but would never give the tones again. Sometimes, if hope tormented her, she would strangle it by trying her voice : and such a little piece of self-inflicted anguish speedily undid all Merthyr's work. He was patient as one who tends a flower in the Spring. Georgiana marvelled that the most sensitive and proud of men should be striving to uproot an image from the heart of a simple girl, that he might place his own there. His methods almost led her to think that his esti- mate of human nature was falling low. Nevertheless, she was constrained to admit that there was no diminution of his love for her, and it chastened her to think so. " Would it be the same with me, if I ? " she half framed the sentence, blushing remorsefully while she denied that any- thing could change her great love for her brother. She had caught a glimpse of Wilfrid's suppleness and selfishness. Contrasting him with Merthyr, she was singularly smitten with shame, she knew not why. The anticipation of the ball at Penarvon Castle had kin- dled very little curiosity in Emilia's bosom. She seemed to herself a machine ; " one of the rest ; " and looked more to see that she was still coveted by Merthyr's eyes than at the glitter of the humming saloons. A touch of her old gladness made her smile when Captain Gambier unex- pectedly appeared and walked across the dancers to sit beside her. She asked him why he had come from Lon- don: to which he replied, with a most expressive gaze under her eyelids, that he had come for one object. " To see me?" thought Emilia, wondering, and reddening as she ceased to wonder. She had thought as a child, and the next instant felt as a woman. He finished Merthyr's work for him. Emilia now thought: "Then I must be worth something." And with "I am," she ended her meditation, glowing. He might have said that she had all beauty ever RAPE OF THE BLACK-BRIONY WREATH S97 showered upon woman : she would have been led to believe him at that moment of her revival. Now, Lady Charlotte had written to Georgiana, telling her that Captain Gambler was soon to be expected in her neighbourhood, and adding that it would be as well if she looked closely after her charge. When Georgiana saw him go over to Emilia she did not remember this warning: bat when she perceived the sudden brilliancy and softness in Emilia's face after the first words had fallen on her eara, she grew alarmed, knowing his reputation, and executed some diversions, which separated them. The captain made no effort to perplex her tactics, merely saying that he should call in a day or two. Merthyr took to himself all the credit of the visible bloom that had come upon Emilia, and pacing with her between the dances, said: "Now you will come to Italy, I think." She paused before answering, "Now?" and feverishly continued : " Yes ; at once. I will go. I have almost felt my voice again to-night." " That's well. I shall write to Marini to-morrow. You will soon find your voice if you will not fret for it. Touch Italy!" " Yes; but you must be near me," said Emilia. Georgiana heard this, and could not conceive other than that Emilia was growing to be one of those cormorant creat- ures who feed alike on the homage of noble and ignoble. She was critical, too, of that very assured pose of Emilia's head and firm planting of her feet as the girl paraded the room after the dances in which she could not join. Pre- vious to this evening, Georgiana had seen nothing of the sort in her; but, on the contrary, a doubtful droop of the shoulders and an unwilling gaze, as of a soul submerged i internal hesitations. "I earnestly trust that this is a mantic folly of Merthyr's, and no more," thought Gorgi ana, who would have had that view concerning his love if Italy likewise, if recollection of her own share of adventu there had not softly interposed. Tracy, Georgiana, Merthyr, and Emilia were in thejJJ- riage, well muffled up, with one window open to the whi* mist. Emilia was eager to thank her friend, if only f the physical relief from weariness and sluggishnes 398 EMILIA IN ENGLAND she was experiencing. She knew certainly that the dim light of a recovering confidence in herself was owing, all, to him, and burned to thank him. Once on the way their hands touched, and he felt a shy pressure from her fingers as they parted. Presently the carriage stopped abruptly, and listening they heard the coachman indulge his companion outside with the remark that they were a couple of fools, and were now regularly 'dished.' " I don't see why that observation can't go on wheels," said Tracy. Merthyr put out his head, and saw the obstruction of the mass of stone across the road. He alighted, and together with the footman, examined the place to see what the chance was of their getting the carriage past. After a space of wait- ing, Georgiana clutched the wraps about her throat and head, and impetuously followed her brother, as her habit had always . been. Emilia sat upright, saying, " I must go too." Tracy moaned a petition to her to rest and be comfortable while the Gods were propitious. He checked her with his arm, and tried to pacify her by giving a description of the scene. The coachman remained on his seat. Merthyr, Georgiana, and the footman were on the other side of the rock, measuring the place to see whether, by a partial ascent of the sloping rubble down which it had bowled, the carriage might be got along. " Go ; they have gone round ; see whether we can give any help," said Emilia to Tracy, who cried : " My goodness ! what help can we give ? This is an express situation where the Fates always appear in person and move us on. We're sure to be moved, if we show proper faith in them. This is my attitude of invocation." He curled his legs up on the seat, resting his head on an arm ; but seeing Emilia prepar- ing for a jump he started up, and immediately preceded her. Emilia looked out after him. She perceived a figure coming stealthily from the bank. It stopped, and again advanced, and now ran swiftly down. She drew back her head as it approached the open door of the carriage ; but the next moment trembled forward, and was caught with a cat-like clutch upon Wilfrid's breast. " Emilia ! my own for ever ! I swore to die this night if I did not see you ! " RAPE OF THE BLACK-BRIONY WREATH 399 " You love me, Wilfrid ? love me ? " " Come with me now ! " " Now ? " " Away ! with me ! your lover 1 " " Then you love me ! " " I love you ! Come ! " " Now ? I cannot move." " I am out in the night without you.* 1 " Oh, my lover ! Oh, Wilfrid ! * " Come to me ! " " My feet are dead ! " "It's too late!" A sturdy hulloa ! sounding from the coachman made Merthyr's ears alive. When he returned he found Emilia huddled up on the seat, alone, her face in her hands, and the touch of her hands like fire. He had to entreat her to de- scend, and in helping her to alight bore her whole weight, and supported her in a sad wonder, while the horses were led across the rubble, and the carriage was with difficulty, and some confusions, guided to clear its wheels of the obstructing mass. Emilia persisted in saying that nothing ailed her; and to the coachman, who could have told him something, and was willing to have done so (notwithstanding a gold fee for silence that stuck in his palm), Merthyr put no question. As they were taking their seats in the carriage again, Georgiana said, " Where is your wreath, Sandra ? " The black-briony wreath was no longer on her head. " Then, it wasn't a dream ! " gasped Emilia, feeling at her temples. Georgiana at once fell into a scrutinizing coldness, and when Merthyr, who fancied the wreath might have fallen as he was lifting Emilia from the carriage, proposed to go and search the place for it, his sister laid her fingers on his arm, remarking, " You will not find it, dear; " and Emilia cried: " Oh ! no, no ! it is not there ; " and, with her hands pressed hard against her bosom, sat fixed and silent. Out of this mood she issued with looks of such tenderness that one who watched her, speculating on her character at Merthyr did, could see that in some mysterious way she had been, during the few minutes that separated them, illumined upon the matter nearest her heart Was it her own strength, 400 EMILIA IN ENGLAND inspired by some sublime force, that had sprung up suddenly to eject a worthless love ? So he hoped in despite of whis- pering reason, till Georgiana spoke to him. CHAPTER XLVII THE CALL TO ACTION WHEN the force of Wilfrid's embrace had died out from *er body, Emilia conceived wilfully that she had seen an apparition, so strange, sudden, and wild had been his coming and going : but her whole body was a song to her. " He is not false: he is true." So dimly, however, was the 'he' now fashioned in her brain, and so like a thing of the air had he descended on her, that she almost conceived the abstract idea, ' Love is true,' and possibly, though her senses did not touch on it to shape it, she had the reflection in her : " After all, power is mine to bring him to my side." Almost it seemed to her that she had brought him from the grave. She sat hugging herself in the carriage, hating to hear words, and seeing a ball of fire away in the white mist. Georgiana looked at her no more ; and when Tracy remarked that he had fancied having seen a fellow running up the bank, she said quietly, " Did you ? " " Robert must have seen him, too," added Merthyr, and so the interloper was dismissed. On reaching home, no sooner were they in the hall than Emilia called for her bedroom candle in a thin, querulous voice that made Tracy shout with laughter and love of her quaintness. Emilia gave him her hand, and held up her mouth to kiss Georgiana, but no cheek was bent forward for the salute. The girl passed from among them, and then Merthyr said to his sister : " What is the matter ? " " Surely, Merthyr, you should not be at a loss," she an- swered, in a somewhat unusual tone, that was half irony. Merthyr studied her face. Alone with her, he said : " I could almost suppose that she has seen this man." THE CALL TO ACTION 401 Georgiana smiled sadly. "I have not seen him, dear; and she has not told ine so." " You think it was so ? " " I can imagine it just possible." " What ! while we were out and had left her ! He must be mad ! " " Not necessarily mad, unless to be without principle is to be mad." " Mad, or graduating for a Spanish come'die d'intrigue," said Merthyr. " What on earth can he mean by it ? If he must see her, let him come here. But to dog a carriage at midnight, and to prefer to act startling surprises ! one can't help thinking that he delights in being a stage-hero." Georgiana's : " If he looks on her as a stage-heroine ? * was unheeded, and he pursued : " She must leave England at once," and stated certain arrangements that were imme- diately to be made. "You will not give up this task you have imposed on yourself ? " she said. " To do what ? " She could have answered : " To make this unsatisfactory creature love you ; " but her words were, " To civilize this little pavage." Merthyr was bright in a moment: "I don't give up till I see failure." " Is it not possible, dear, to be dangerously blind ? " urged Georgiana. " Keep to the particular case," he returned ; " and don't tempt me into your woman's snare of a generalization. If s possible, of course, to be one-ideaed and obstinate. But I have not yet seen your savage guilty of a deceit Her heart has been stirred, and her heart, as you may judge, has force enough to be constant, though none can deny that it has been roughly proved." " For which you like her better ? " said Georgiana, herself brightening. "For which I like her better," he replied, and smiled, perfectly armed. " Oh ! is it because I am a woman that I do not under- stand this sort of friendship?" cried Georgiana. "And from you, Merthyr, to a girl such as she is ! Me she satis- ^02 EMILIA IN ENGLAND fies less and less. You speak of force of heart, as if it were manifested in an abandonment of personal will." "No, my darling, but in the strong conception of a passion." " Yes ; if she had discriminated, and fixed upon a worthy object!" "That," rejoined Merthyr, "is akin to the doctrine of justification by success." "You seek to foil me with sophisms," said Georgiana, warming. " A woman even a girl should remember what is due to herself. You are attracted by a passionate nature I mean, men are." " The general instance," assented Merthyr. " Then, do you never reflect," pursued Georgiana, " on the composition and the elements of that sort of nature ? I have tried to think the best of it. It seems to me still no, not contemptible at all but selfishness is the ground- work of it; a brilliant selfishness, I admit. I see that it shows its best feature, but is it the nobler for that ? I think, and I must think, that excellence is a point to be reached only by unselfishness, and that usefulness is the test of excellence." " Before there has been any trial of her ? " asked Merthyr. " Have you not been a little too eager to put the test to her ? " Georgiana reluctantly consented to have her argument attached to a single person. " She is not a child, Merthyr." " Ay ; but she should be thought one." " I confess I am utterly at sea," Georgiana sighed. " Will you at least allow that sordid selfishness does less mischief than this ' passion ' you admire so much ? " " I will allow that she may do herself more mischief than if she had the opposite vice of avarice anything you will, of that complexion." " And why should she be regarded as a child ? " asked Georgiana piteously. " Because, if she has outnumbered the years of a child, she is no further advanced than a child, owing to what she has to get rid of. She is overburdened with sensations that set her head on fire. Her solid, firm, and gentle heart keeps her balanced, so long as there is no one playing on it. That a fool should be doing so, is scarcely her fault." THE CALL TO ACTION 408 Georgiana murmured to herself, " He is not a fool." She said, " I do see a certain truth in what you say, dear Mer- thyr. But I have been disappointed in her. I have taken her among my poor. She listens to their tales, without sympathy. I took her into a sick-room. She stood by a dying bed like a statue. Her remark when we came into the air was, ' Death seems easy, if it were not so stifling ! ' Herself always ! herself the centre of what she sees and feels ! And again, she has no active desire to do good to any mortal thing. A passive wish that everybody should be happy, I know she has. Few have not. She would give money if she had it. But this is among the mysteries of Providence to me, that one so indifferent to others should be gifted with so inexplicable a power of attraction." Merthyr put this case to her : " Suppose you saw any of the poor souls you wait on lying sick with fever, woufd it be just to describe the character of one so situated as fretful, ungrateful, of rambling tongue, poor in health, and gener- ally of loose condition of mind ? " " There, again, is that foreign doctrine which exults in the meanest triumphs by getting the thesis granted that we are animal only animals ! " Georgiana burst out. " You argue that at this season and at that season she is helpless. If she is a human creature, must she not have a mind to cover those conditions ? " "And a mind," Merthyr took her up, "specially expe- rienced, armed, and alert to be a safeguard to her at the most critical period of her life ! Oh, yes ! "Whether she 'must' have it is one thing; but no one can contest the value of such a jewel to any young person." Georgiana stood silenced; and knew later that she had been silenced by a fallacy. For, is youth the most critical period of life ? Neither brother nor sister, however, were talking absolutely for the argument. Beneath this dialogue, the current in her mind pressed to elicit some avowal of his personal feeling for the girl, toward whom Georgiana's dis- position was kindlier than her words might lead one to think. He, on the other hand, talked with the distinct object of disguising his feelings under a tone of moderate friendship for Emilia, that was capable of excusing her. A sensitive man of thirty odd years does not loudly proclaim 404 EMILIA IN ENGLAND his appreciation of a girl under twenty : moreover, Merthyi wished to spare his sister. He thought of questioning Eobert, the coachman, whether anyone had visited the carriage during his five minutes' absence from it : but Merthyr's peculiar Welsh delicacy kept him from doing that, hard as it was to remain in doubt and endure the little poisoned shafts of a suspicion. In the morning there was a letter from Marini on the breakfast-table. Merthyr glanced down the contents. His countenance flashed with a marvellous light. " Where is she ? " he said, looking keenly for Emilia. Emilia came in from the garden. " Now, my Sandra ! " cried Merthyr, waving the letter to her ; " can you pack up, to start in an hour ? There's work coming on for us, and I shall be a boy again, and not the drumstick I am in this country. I have a letter from Marini. All Lombardy is prepared to rise, and this time the business will be done. Marini is off for Genoa. Under the orange- trees, my Sandra ! and looking on the bay, singing of Italy free ! " Emilia fell back a step, eyeing him with a grave expression of wonder, as if she beheld another being from the one she had hitherto known. The calm Englishman had given place to a volcanic spirit. " Isn't that the sketch we made ? " he resumed. " The plot's perfect. I detest conspiracies, but we must use what weapons we can, and be Old Mole, if they trample us in the earth. Once up, we have Turin to back us. This I know. We shall have nothing but the Tedeschi to manage : and if they beat us in cavalry, it's certain that they can't rely on their light horse. The Magyars would break in a charge. We know that they will. As for the rest : ' Soldati settentri'onali, Come sarebbe Boemi e Croat!,' we are a match for them ! Artillery we shall get. The Pied- montese are mad for the signal. Come ; sit and eat. The air seems dead down in this quiet country; we're out of the stream. I must rush up to London to breathe, and then we won't lose a moment. We shall be in Italy in four days. Four days, my Sandra! And Italy going to be free I THE CALL TO ACTION 405 Georgey, I'm fasting. And you will see all your old friends All? Good God! No! not all! Their blood shall nervi us. The Austrian thinks he -wastes us by slaughter. With every dead man he doubles the life of the living! Am I talking like a foreigner, Sandra mia ? My child, you don't eat! And I, who dreamed last night that I looked out over Novara from the height of the Col di Colma, and saw the plain under a red shadow from a huge eagle ! " Merthyr laughed, swinging round his arm. Emilia con- tinued staring at him as at a man transformed, while Georgiana asked : " May Marini's letter be seen ? " Her visage had become firm and set in proportion as her brother's excitement increased. " Eat, my Sandra ! eat ! " called Merthyr, who was him- self eating with a campaigning appetite. Georgiana laid down the letter folded under Merthyr's fingers, keeping her hand on it till he grew alive to her meaning, that it should be put away. " Marini is vague about artillery," she murmured. "Vague!" echoed Merthyr. "Say prudent. If he said we could lay hands on fifty pieces, then distrust him ! n " God grant that this be not another pit for further fruitless bloodshed!" was the interjection standing in Georgiana's eyes, and then she dropped them pensively, while Merthyr recounted the patient schemes that had led to this hour, the unuttered anxieties and the bursting hopes. Still Emilia kept her distressfully unenthusiastic looks turned from one to the other, though her Italy was the theme. She did not eat, but had dropped one hand flat on her plate, looking almost idiotic. She heard of Italy as of a distant place, known to her in ancient years. Merthyr*s transformation, too, helped some form of illusion in her brain that she was cut off from any kindred feeling with other people. As soon as he had finished, Merthyr jumped up; and coming round to Emilia, touched her shoulder affectionately. saying : " Now ! There won't be much packing to da We shall be in London to-night in time for your mother to pass the evening with you." Emilia rose straightway, and her eyes fell vacantly on Georgiana for help, as far as they could express anything. 406 EMILIA IN ENGLAND Georgiana gave no response, save a look well nigh as vacant in the interchange. " But you haven't eaten at all ! " said Merthyr. Emilia shook her head. " No." " Eat, my Sandra ! to please me ! You -will need all your strength if you would be a match for Georgey anywhere where there's action." " Yes ! " Emilia traversed his words with a sudden outcry. " Yes, I will go to London. I am ready to go to London now." It was clear that a new light had fallen on her intelligence. Merthyr was satisfied to see her sit down to the table, and he at once went out to issue directions for the first step in the new and momentous expedition. Emilia put the bread to her mouth, and crumbled it on a dry lip : but it was evident to Georgiana, hostile witness as she was, that Emilia's mind was gradually warming to what Merthyr had said, and that a picture was passing before the girl. She perceived also a thing that no misery of her own had yet drawn from Emilia. It was a tear that fell heavily on the back of her hand. Soon the tears came in quick suc- cession, while the girl tried to eat, and bit at salted morsels. It was a strange sight for Georgiana, this statuesque weep- ing, that got human bit by bit, till the bosom heaved long sobs : and yet tio turn of the head for sympathy ; nothing but passionless shedding of big tear-drops ! She went to the girl, and put her hand upon her ; kissed her, and then said : " We have no time to lose. My brother never delays when he has come to a resolve." Emilia tried to articulate : " I am ready." " But you have not eaten ! " Emilia made a mechanical effort to eat. " Remember," said Georgiana, " we have a long distance to go. You will want your strength. You would not be a burden to him ? Eat, while I get your things ready." And Georgiana left her, secretly elated to feel that in this expe- dition it was she, and she alone, who was Merthyr's mate. WTiat storm it was, and what conflict, agitated the girl and stupefied her, she cared not to guess, now that she had the suitable designation, ' savage/ confirmed in all her acts, to apply to her. CONTAINS A FURTHER VIEW OF SENTIMENT 407 When Tracy Runningbrook caine down at his ordinary hour of noon to breakfast, he found a twisted note from Georgiana, telling him that important matters had summoned Merthyr to London, and that they were all to be seen at Lady Gosstre's town-house. " I believe, by Jove ! Powys manoeuvres to get her away from me" he shouted, and sat down to his breakfast and his book with a comforted mind. It was not Georgiana to whom he alluded ; but the appearance of Captain Gambier, and the pronounced discomposure visible in the handsome face of the captain on his hearing of the departure, led Tracy to think that Georgiana's was properly deplored by another, though that other was said to be engaged. ' On revient toujours/ he hummed. CHAPTER XLVIII CONTAINS A FURTHER VIEW OF SENTIMENT THREE days passed as a running dream to Emilia. During that period she might have been hurried off to Italy without uttering a remonstrance. Merthyr's spirited talk of the country she called her own ; of its heroic youth banded to rise, and sworn to liberate it or die ; of good historic names borne by men, his comrades, in old campaigning adventures ; and stories and incidents of those past days all given wit! his changed face, and changed ringing voice, almost moved her to plunge forgetfully into this new tumultuous stream : while the picture of the beloved land, lying shrouded beneath the perilous star it was about to follow grew in her mind. " Shall I go with the Army ? " she asked Georgiana. "No, my child; you will simply go to school," was cold reply. "To school!" Emilia throbbed, "while they are fight, m " To the Academy. My brother's first thought is to further your progress in Art. When your artistic education is plete, you will choose your own course." " He knows, he knows that I have no voice I' 408 EMILIA IN ENGLAND struck her lap with twisted fingers. " My voice is thick in iny throat. If I am not to march with him, I can't go ; I will not go. I want to see the fight. You have. Why should I keep away ? Could I run up notes, even if I had any voice, while he is in the cannon-smoke ? " " While he is in the cannon-smoke ! " Georgiana revolved the line thoughtfully. " You are aware that my brother looks forward to the recovery of your voice," she said. " My voice is like a dead serpent in my throat," rejoined Emilia. " My voice ! I have forgotten music. I lived for that, once ; now I live for nothing, only to take my chance everywhere with my friend. I want to smell powder. My father says it is like salt, the taste of blood, and is like wine when you smell it. I have heard him shout for it. I will go to Italy, if I may go where my friend Merthyr goes; but nothing can keep me shut up now. My head's a wilder- ness when I'm in houses. I can scarcely bear to hear this London noise, without going out and walking till I drop." Coming to a knot in her meditation, Georgiana concluded that Emilia's heart was warming to Merthyr. She was speedily doubtful again. These two delicate Welsh natures, as exacting as they were delicate, were little pleased with Emilia's silence con- cerning her intercourse with Wilfrid. Merthyr, who had expressed in her defence what could be said for her, was unwittingly cherishing what could be thought in her dis- favour. Neither of them hit on the true cause, which lay in Georgiana' s coldness to her. One little pressure of her hand, carelessly given, made Merthyr better aware of the nature he was dealing with. He was telling her that a further delay might keep them in London for a week; and that he had sent for her mother to come to her. "I must see my mother," she had said, excitedly. The extension of the period named for quitting England made it more imminent in her imagination than when it was a matter of hours. "I must see her." " I have sent for her, " said Merthyr, and then pressed Emilia's hand. But she who, without having brooded on complaints of its absence, thirsted for demonstrative kind- ness, clung to the hand, drawing it, doubled, against her chin. CONTAINS A FURTHER VIEW OP SENTIMENT 4U "That is not the reason," she said, raising her full eyes up at him over the unrelinquished hand. " I love the poor Madre ; let her come ; but I have no heart for her just now. I have seen Wilfrid." She took a tighter hold of his fingers, as fearing he might shrink from her. Merthyr hated mysteries, so he said. " I supposed it must have been so that night of our return from Penarvon? " " Yes, " she murmured, while she read his face for a shadow of a repulsion; "and, my friend, I cannot go to Italy now! " Merthyr immediately drew a seat beside her. He pr- ceived that there would be no access to her reason, even as he was on the point of addressing it. " Then all my care and trouble are to be thrown away? " he said, taking the short road to her feelings. She put the hand that was disengaged softly on his shoul- der. "No; not thrown away. Let me be what Merthyr wishes me to be! That is my chief prayer." " Why, then, will you not do what Merthyr wishes you to do?" Emilia's eyelids shut, while her face still fronted him. " Oh ! I will speak all out to you, " she cried. " Merthyr, my friend, he came to kiss me once, before I have only just understood it! He is going to Austria. He came to touch me for the last time before his hand is red with my blood. Stop him from going! I am ready to follow you: I can hear of his marrying that woman : Oh ! I cannot live and think of him in that Austrian white coat. Poor thing! my dear! my dear!" And she turned away her head. It is not unnatural that Merthyr hearing these soft epi- thets, should disbelieve in the implied self-conquest of her preceding words. He had no clue to make him guess that these were simply old exclamations of hers brought to her lips by the sorrowful contrast in her mind. " It will be better that you should see him," he said, with less of his natural sincerity; so soon are we corrupted by any suspicion that our egoism prompts. " Here? " And she hung close to him, open-lipped, open- eyed, open-eared, as if (Georgiana would think it, thought Merthyr) her savage senses had laid the trap for this pro- 410 EMILIA IN ENGLAND posal, and now sprung up keen for their prey. "Here, Merthyr? Yes! let me see him. You will! Let me see him, for he cannot resist me. He tries. He thinks he does: but he cannot. I can stretch out my finger I can put it on the day when, if he has galloped one way he will gallop another. Let him come." She held up both her hands in petition, half dropping her eyelids, with a shadowy beauty. In Merthyr's present view, the idea of Wilfrid being in ranks opposed to him was so little provocative of intense dissatisfaction, that it was out of his power to believe that Emilia craved to see him simply to dissuade the man from the obnoxious step. "Ah, well! See him; see him, if you must," he said. " Arrange it with my sister." He quitted the room, shrinking from the sound of her thanks, and still more from the consciousness of his tor- ment. The business that detained him was to get money for Marini. Georgiana placed her fortune at his disposal a sec- ond time. There was his own, which he deemed it no excess of chivalry to fling into the gulf. The two sat together, arranging what property should be sold, and how they would share the sacrifice in common. Georgiana pressed him to dispose of a little estate belonging to her, that money might immediately be raised. They talked as they sat over the fire toward the dusk of the winter evening. "You would not have refused me once, Merthyr! n " When you were a child, and I hardly better than a boy. Now it's different. Let mine go first, Georgey. You may have a husband, who will not look on these things as we do." "How can I love a husband!" was all she said; and Merthyr took her in his arms. His gaiety had gone. "We can't go dancing into a pit of this sort," he sighed, partly to baffle the scrutiny he apprehended in her silence. "The garrison at Milan is doubled, and I hear they are marching troops through Tyrol. Some alerte has been given, and probably some traitors exist. One wouldn't like to be shot like a dog! You haven't forgotten poor Tarani? I heard yesterday of the girl who calls herself his widow. " " They were betrothed, and she is ! " exclaimed Georgiana. CONTAINS A FURTHER VIEW OF SENTIMENT 411 "Well, there's a case of a man who had two lores a woman and his country ; and both true to him ! " " And is he so singular, Merthyr? " "No, my best! my sweetest! my heart's rest! no!" They exchanged tender smiles. "Tarani's bride beloved! you can listen to such mat- ters she has undertaken her task. Who imposed it? I confess I faint at the thought of things so sad and shameful. But I dare not sit in judgement on a people suffering as they are. Outrage upon outrage they have endured, and that deadens or rather makes their heroism unscrupulous. Tarani's bride is one of the few fair girls of Italy. We have a lock of her hair. She shore it close the morning her lover was shot, and wore the thin white skull-cap you remember, until it was whispered to her that her beauty must serve." " I have the lock now in my desk," said Georgiana, begin- ning to tremble. " Do you wish to look at it? " "Yes; fetch it, my darling." He sat eyeing the firelight till she returned, and then taking the long golden lock in his hand, he squeezed it, full of bitter memories and sorrowfulness. " Giulietta? " breathed his sister. "I would put my life on the truth of that woman's love. Well! " "Yes?" " She abandons herself to the commandant of the citadel." A low outcry burst from Georgiana. She fell at Mer- thyr's knees sobbing violently. He let her sob. In the end she struggled to speak. "Oh! can it be permitted? Oh! can we not save her? Oh, poor soul! my sister! Is she blind to her lover in heaven?" Georgiana's face was dyed with shame. "We must put these things by," said Merthyr. Emilia presently, and tell her settle with her as you think fitting, how she shall see this Wilfrid Pole. promised her she shall have her wish." Coloured by the emotion she was burning from, mm words smote Georgiana with a mournful compassion f Merthyr. 412 EMILIA IN ENGLAND He had risen, and by that she knew that nothing could be said to alter his will. A sentimental pair likewise, if you please; but these were sentimentalists who served an active deity, and not that arbitrary projection of a subtle selfishness which rules the fairer portion of our fat England. CHAPTER XLIX BETWEEN EMILIA AND GEORGIANA " MY brother tells me it is your wish to see Mr. Wilfrid Pole." Emilia's "Yes" came faintly in answer to Georgiana's cold accents. " Have you considered what you are doing in expressing such a desire?" Another " Yes " was heard from under an unlif ted head : a culprit affirmative, whereat the just take fire. " Be honest, Emilia. Seek counsel and guidance to-night, as you have done before with me, and profited, I think. If I write to bid him come, what will it mean? " "Nothing more," breathed Emilia. " To him for in his way he seems to care for you fitfully it will mean stop ! hear me. The words you speak will have no part of the meaning, even if you restrain your tongue. To him it will imply that his power over you is unaltered. I suppose that the task of making you perceive the effect it really will have on you is hopeless." "I have seen him, and I know," said Emilia, in a corre- sponding tone. "You saw him that night of our return from Penarvon? Judge of him by that. He would not spare you. To grat- ify I know not what wildness in his nature, he did not hesi- tate to open your old wound. And to what purpose? A freak of passion ! " " He could not help it. I told him he would come, and he came." BETWEEN EMILIA AND QEOROIANA 413 "This, possibly, you call love; do you not ?" Emilia was about to utter a plain affirmative, but it was checked. The novelty of the idea of its not being love arrested her imagination. "If he comes to you here," resumed Georgiana " He must come ! " cried Emilia. "My brother has sanctioned it, so his coming or not will rest with him. If he comes, let me know the good that you think will result from an interview? Ah! you have not weighed that question. Do so; or you give no heed to it? In any case, try to look into your own breast. You were not born to live unworthily. You can be, or will be, if you follow your better star, self-denying and noble. Do you not love your country? Judge of this love by that. Your love, if you have this power over him, is merely a madness to him ; and his what has it done for you? If he comes, and this begins again, there will be a similar if not the same destiny for you." Emilia panted in her reply. "No; it will not begin again." She threw out both arms, shaking her head. "It cannot, I know. What am I now? It is what I was that he loves. He will not know what I am till he sees me. And I know that I have done things that he cannot forgive. You have forgiven it, and Merthyr, because he is my friend; but I am sure Wilfrid will not. He might pardon the poor 'me,' but not his Emilia! I shall have to tell him what I did; so" (and she came closer to Georgiana) "there is some pain for me in seeing him." Georgiana was not proof against this simplicity of speech, backed by a little dying dimple, which seemed a continua- tion of the plain sadness of Emilia's tone. She said, " My poor child ! " almost fondly, and then Emilia looked in her face, murmuring, "You sometimef doubt me." "Not your truth, but the accuracy of your perception and your knowledge of your real designs. You are cer- tainly deceiving yourself at this instant. In the first place, the relation of that madness no, poor child, not wicked- ness but if you tell it to him, it is a wilful and unneces- sary self-abasement. If he is to be your husband, unburden your heart at once. Otherwise, why? why? You are but 414 EMILIA IN ENGLAND working up a scene, provoking needless excesses : you are storing misery in retrospect, or wretchedness to be endured. Had you the habit of prayer ! By degrees it will give you the thirst for purity, and that makes you a fountain of prayer, in whom these blind deceits cannot hide." Georgiana paused emphatically ; as when, by our unroll- ing out of our ideas, we have more thoroughly convinced ourselves. "You pray to heaven," said Emilia, and then faltered, and blushed. " I must be loved ! " she cried. " Will you not put your arms round me?" Georgiana drew her to her bosom, bidding her continue. Emilia lay whispering under her chin. "You pray, and you wish to be seen as you are, do you not? You do. Well, if you knew what love is, you would see it is the same. You wish him to see and know you : you wish to be sure that he loves nothing but exactly you ; it must be your- self. You are jealous of his loving an idea of you that is not you. You think, 'He will wake up and find his mis- take; ' or you think, 'That kiss was not intended for me; ' not 'for me as I am.' Those are tortures! " Her discipline had transformed her, when she could utter such sentiments as these! Feeling her shudder, and not knowing how imagination forestalls experience in passionate blood, Georgiana said, " You speak like one who has undergone them. But now at least you have thrown off the mask. You love him still, this man ! And with as little strength of will ! Do you not see impiety in the comparison you have made?" "Oh! what I see is, that I wish I could say to him, 'Look on me, for I need not be ashamed I am like Miss Ford!'" The young lady's cheeks took fire, and the clear path of speech becoming confused in her head, she said, "Miss Ford?" " Georgiana," said Emilia, and feeling that her friend's cold manner had melted ; " Georgey ! my beloved ! my dar- ling in Italy, where will we go ! I envy no woman but you who have seen my dear ones fight. You and I, and Merthyr ! Nothing but Austrian shot shall part us." " And so we make up a pretty dream ! " interjected Geor- BETWEEN EMILIA AND OEOROIANA 415 giana. "The Austrian shot, I think, will be fired by one who is now in the Austrian service, or who will soon be," " Wilfrid ? " Emilia called out. " No ; that is what I am going to stop. Why did I not tell you so at first? But I never know what I say or do when I am with you, and everything seems chance. I want to see him to prevent him from doing that. I can." " Why should you ? " asked Georgiana ; and one to whom the faces of the two had been displayed at that moment would have pronounced them a hostile couple. "Why should I prevent him?" Emilia doled out the question slowly, and gave herself no further thought of replying to it. Apparently Georgiana understood the significance of this odd silence: she was perhaps touched by it. She said, " You feel that you have a power over him. You wish to exercise it. Never mind wherefore. If you do if you try, and succeed if, by the aid of this love presupposed to exist, you win him to what you require of him do you honestly think the love is then immediately to be dropped ? " Emilia meditated. She caught up her voice hastily. " I think so. Yes. I hope so. I mean it to be." "With a noble lover, Emilia. Not with a selfish one. In showing him the belief you have in your power over him, you betray that he has power over you. And it is to no object. His family, his position, his prospects all tell you that he cannot marry you if he would. And he is, besides, engaged " " Let her suffer ! " Emilia's eyes flashed. "Ah ! " and Georgiana thought, " Have I come upon your nature at last ? n However it might be, Emilia was determined to show it " She took my lover from me, and I say, let her suffer ! 1 would not hurt her myself I would not lay my finger on her : but she has eyes like blue stones, and such a mouth ! I think the Austrian executioner has one like it If she suffers, and goes all dark as I did, she will show a better face. Let her keep my lover. He is not mine, but he was ; and she took him from me. That woman cannot feed on him as I did. I know she has no hunger for love. He will look at those blue bits of ice, and think of me. I told him so. 416 EMILIA IN ENGLAND Did I not tell him that in Devon ? I saw her eyelids move fast as I spoke. I think I look on Winter when I see her lips. Poor, wretched Wilfrid ! " Emilia half-sobbed this exclamation out. " I don't wish to hurt either of them," she added, with a smile of such abrupt opposition to her words that Georgiana was in perplexity. A lady who has assumed the office of lecturer, will, in such a frame of mind, lecture on, if merely to vindicate to herself her own preconceptions. Georgiana laid her finger severely upon Wilfrid's manifest faults ; and, in fine, she spoke a great deal of the common sense that the situation demanded. Nevertheless, Emilia held to her scheme. But, in the mean- time, Georgiana had seen more clearly into the girl's heart ; and she had been won, also, by a natural gracefulness that she now perceived in her, and which led her to think, " Is Merthyr again to show me that he never errs in his judge- ment?" An unaccountable movement of tenderness to Emilia made her drop a few kisses on her forehead. Emilia shut her eyes, waiting for more. Then she looked up, and said, " Have you felt this love for me very long ? " at which the puny name, scarce visible, sprang up, and warmed to a great heat. " My own Emilia ! Sandra ! listen to me : promise me not to seek this interview." " Will you always love me as much ? " Emilia bargained. " Yes, yes ; I never vary. It is my love for you that begs you." Emilia fell into a chair and propped her head behind both hands, tapping the floor briskly with her feet. Georgiana watched the conflict going on. To decide it promptly, she said : " And not only shall I love you thrice as well, but my brother Merthyr, whom you call your friend he will he cannot love you better ; but he will feel you to be worthy the best love he can give. There is a heart, you simple girl ! He loves you, and has never shown any of the pain your conduct has given him. When I say he loves you, I tell you his one weakness the only one I have discovered. And judge whether he has shown want of self-control while you were dying for another. Did he attempt to thwart you ? No ; to strengthen you ; and never once to turn your atten- tion to himself. That is love. Now, think of what anguish BETWEEN EMILIA AND QEOBGIAKA 417 you have made him pass through : and think whether you have ever witnessed an alteration of kindness in his fac toward you. Even now, when he had the hope that you were cured of your foolish fruitless affection for a man who merely played with you, and cannot give up the habit, even now he hides what he feels " So far Emilia let her speak without interruption; but gradually awakening to the meaning of the words : " For me ? " she cried. " Yes ; for you." " The same sort of love as Wilfrid feels ? " " By no means the same sort ; but the love of man fox woman." " And he saw me when I was that wretched heap ? And he knows everything ! and loves me. He has never kissed me." " Does that miserable test ? " Georgiana was asking. " Pardon, pardon," said Emilia penitently ; " I know that is almost nothing, now. I am not a child. I spoke from a sudden feeling. For if he loves me, how ! Oh, Mer. thyr ! what a little creature I seem. I cannot understand it. I lose a brother. And he was such a certainty to me. What did he love what did he love, that night he found me on the pier ? I looked like a creature picked off a mud- bank. I felt like a worm, and miserably abandoned, I was a shameful sight. Oh ! how can I look on Merthyr's face again ? " In these interjections Georgiana did not observe the proper humility and abject gratitude of a young person who had heard that she was selected by a prince of the earth. A sort of ' Eastern handmaid ' prostration, with joined bands, and, above all things, a closed mouth, the lady desired. She half regretted the revelation she had made ; and to be sure at once that she had reaped some practical good, she said : " I need scarce ask you whether you have come to a right decision upon that other question." " To see Wilfrid ? " said Emilia. She appeared to pause musingly, and then turned to Georgiana, showing happy features ; " Yes : I shall see him. I must see him. Let him know he is to come immediately." " That is your decision." 418 EMILIA IN ENGLAND "Yes." " After what I have told you ? " " Oh, yes ; yes ! Write the letter." Georgiana chid at an internal wrath that struggled to win her lips. " Promise me simply that what I have told you of my brother, you will consider yourself bound to keep secret. You will not speak of it to others, nor to him." Emilia gave the promise, but with the thought ; " To him ? will not he speak of it ? " " So, then, I am to write this letter ? " said Georgiana. " Do, do ; at once ! " Emilia put on her sweetest look to plead for it. "Decidedly the wisest of men are fools in this matter," Georgiana's reflection swam upon her anger. " And dearest ! my Georgey ! " Emilia insisted on being blunt to the outward indications to which she was commonly so sensitive and reflective ; " my Georgey ! let me be alone this evening in my bedroom. The little Madre comes, and and I haven't the habit of being respectful to her. And, I must be alone ! Do not send up for me, whoever wishes it." Georgiana could not stop her tongue : " Not if Mr. Wil- frid Pole ?" " Oh, he ! I will see him" said Emilia ; and Georgiana went from her straightway. CHAPTER L EMILIA BEGINS TO FEEL MERTHYR*S POWER EMILIA remained locked up with her mother all that evening. The good little shrill woman, tender-eyed and slatternly, had to help try on dresses, and run about for pins, and express her critical taste in undertones, believing all the while that her daughter had given up music to go mad with vanity. The reflection struck her, notwithstand- ing, that it was a wiser thing for one of her sex to make friends among rich people than to marry a foreign husband. EMILIA BEGINS TO FEEL MBRTHYR'8 POWER 419 The girl looked a brilliant woman in a superb Venetian dress of purple velvet, which she called 'the Branciani dress,' and once attired in it, and the rich purfles and swell- ing creases over the shoulders puffed out to her satisfaction, and the run of yellow braid about it properly inspected and flattened, she would not return to her more homely wear, though very soon her mother began to whimper and say that she had lost her so long, and now that she had found her it hardly seemed the same child. Emilia would listen to no entreaties to put away her sumptuous robe. She silenced her mother with a stamp of her foot, and then sighed: " Ah ! Why do I always feel such a tyrant with you ? " kissing her. "This dress," she said, and held up her mother's chin fondlingly between her two hands, " this dress was designed by my friend Merthyr that is, Mr. Powy s from what he remembered of a dress worn by Countess Branciani, of Venice. He had it made to give to me. It came from Paris. Countess Branciani was one of his dearest friends. I feel that I am twice as much his friend with this on me. Mother, it seems like a deep blush all over me. I feel as if I looked out of a rose." She spread her hands to express the flower magnified. " Oh ! what silly talk," said her mother : " it doe* turn your head, this dress does ! " " I wish it would give me my voice, mother. My father has no hope. I wish he would send me news to make me happy about him ; or come and run his finger up the strings for hours, as he used to. I have fancied I heard him at times, and I had a longing to follow the notes, and felt sur of my semi-tones. He won't see me! Mother! he would think something of me if he saw me now ! " Her mother's lamentations reached that vocal pitch at last which Emilia could not endure, and the little lady was despatched to her home under charge of a servant Emilia feasted on the looking-glass when alone. Merthyr, in restoring her to health, given her an overdoae of the poison ? "Countess Branciani made the Austrian Governor n< slave," she uttered, planting one foot upon a stool to lend herself height " He told her who were suspected, and who 420 EMILIA IN ENGLAND would be imprisoned, and gave her all the State secrets. Beauty can do more than music. I wonder whether Merthyr loved her ? He loves me ! " Emilia was smitten with a fear that he would speak of it when she next saw him. " Oh ! I hope he will be just the same as he has been," she sighed ; and with much melan- choly shook her head at her fair reflection, and began to undress. It had not struck her with surprise that two men should be loving her, until, standing away from the purple folds, she seemed to grow smaller and smaller, as a fire-log robbed of its flame, and felt insufficient and weak. This was a new sensation. She depended no more on her own vital sincerity. It was in her nature, doubtless, to crave constantly for approval, but in the service of personal beauty instead of divine Art, she found herself utterly unwound without it : victim of a sense of most uncomfortable hollow- ness. She was glad to extinguish the candle and be covered up dark in the circle of her warmth. Then her young blood sang to her again. An hour before breakfast every morning she read with Merthyr. Now, this morning how was she to appear to him ? There would be no reading, of course. How could he think of teaching one to whom he trembled. Emilia trusted that she might see no change in him, and, above all, that he would not speak of his love for her. Nevertheless, she put on her robe of conquest, having first rejected with distaste a plainer garb. She went down the stairs slowly. Merthyr was in the library awaiting her. " You are late," he said, eyeing the dress as a thing apart from her, and remarking that it was hardly suited for morning wear. "Yellow, if you must have a strong colour, and you wouldn't exhibit the schwartz-gelb of the Tedeschi will- ingly. But now ! " This was the signal for the reading to commence. " Wilfrid would not have been so cold to me," thought Emilia, turning the leaves of Ariosto as a book of ashes. Not a word of love appeared to be in his mind. This she did not regret ; but she thirsted for the assuring look. His eyes were quietly friendly. So friendly was he, that he blamed her for inattention, and took her once to task about a melodious accent in which she vulgarized the vowels. All EMILIA BEGINS TO FEEL MEBTHYB's POWER 421 the flattery of the Branciani dress could not keep Emilia from her feeling of smallness. Was it possible that he loved her ? She watched him as eagerly as her shyness would permit. Any shadow of a change was spied for. Getting no softness from him, or superadded kindness, no shadow of a change in that direction, she stumbled in her reading purposely, to draw down rebuke; her construing was villanously bad. He told her so, and she replied : " I don't like poetry." But seeing him exchange Ariosto for Koman History, she murmured, " I like Dante." Merthyr plunged her remorselessly into the second Punic war. But there was worse to follow. She was informed that after breakfast she would be called upon to repeat the principal facts she had been reading of. Emilia groaned audibly. "Take the book," said Merthyr. " It's so heavy," she complained. "Heavy?" " I mean, to carry about." " If you want to 'carry it about,' the boy shall follow you with it." She understood that she was being laughed at. Languor, coupled with the consciousness of ridicule, overwhelmed her. " I feel I can't learn," she said. " Feel, that you must," was replied to her. " No ; don't take any more trouble with me ! " "Yes; I expect you to distinguish Scipio from Cicero, and not make the mistake of the other evening, when you were talking to Mrs. Cameron." Emilia left him, abashed, to dread shrewdly their meeting within five minutes at the breakfast-table ; to dread eating under his eyes, with doubts of the character of her acts gen- erally. She was, indeed, his humble scholar, though she seemed so full of weariness and revolt. He, however, when alone, looked fixedly at the door through which she had passed, and said, " She loves that man still. Similar ages, similar tastes, I suppose! She is dressed to be ready for him. She can't learn: she can do nothing. My work mayn't be lost, but it's lost for me." Merthyr did not know that Georgiana had betrayed him, but in no case would he have given Emilia the signs she 422 EMILIA IN ENGLAND expected : in the first place, because he had self-command , and, secondly, because of those years he counted in advance of her. So she had the full mystery of his loving her to think over, without a spot of the weakness to fasten on. Georgiana's first sight of Emilia in her Branciani dress shut her heart against the girl with iron clasps. She took occasion to remark, " We need not expect visitors so very early ; " but the offender was impervious. Breakfast fin- ished, the reading with Merthyr recommenced, when Emilia, having got over her surprise at the sameness of things this day, acquitted herself better, and even declaimed the verses musically. Seeing him look pleased, she spoke them out sonorously. Merthyr applauded. Upon which Emilia said, with odd abruptness and solemnity, " Will he come to-day ? " It was beyond Merthyr's power of self-control to consent to be taken into a consultation on this matter, and he attempted to put it aside. " He may or he may not probably to-morrow." " No ; to-day, in the afternoon," said Emilia, " be near me." " I have engagements." " Some word, say, that will seem to be you with me." " Some flattery, or you won't remember it." "Yes, I like flattery." "Well, you look like Countess Branciani when, after thinking her husband the basest of men, she discovered him to be the noblest." Emilia blushed. " That's not easily forgotten ! But she must have looked braver, bolder, not so under a burden as I feel." " The comparison was meant to suit the moment of your reciting." "Yes," said Emilia, half-mournfully, "then 'myself doesn't sit on my shoulders : I don't even care what I am." " That is what Art does for you." " Only by fits and starts now. Once I never thought of myself." There was a knock at the street-door, and she changed countenance. Presently there came a gentle tap at their own door. " It is that woman," said Emilia. " I fancy it must be Lady Charlotte. You will not see her?" EMILIA BEGINS TO FEEL MEKTHYR'8 POWEB 428 Merthyr was anticipating a negative, but Emilia said, " Let her come in." She gave her hand to the lady, and was the less concerned of the two. Lady Charlotte turned away from her briskly. "Georgey didn't say anything of you in her letter, Merthyr ; I am going up to her, but I wished to satisfy my- self that you were in town, first : to save half-a-minute, you see ! I anticipate the philosophic manly sneer. Is it really true that you are going to mix yourself up in this mad Italian business again ? Now that you're a man, my dear Merthyr, it seems almost inexcuseable for a sensible Englishman ! " Lady Charlotte laughed, giving him her hand at the same time. " Don't you know I swore an oath ? " Merthyr caught up her tone. " Yes, but you never succeed. I complain that you never succeed. Of what use on earth are all your efforts if you never succeed ? " Emilia's voice burst out : " ' Piacemi almen che i miei sospir sien quail Spera '1 Tevero e 1' Arno, E 'IPo, '" Merthyr continued the ode, acting a similar fervour: " ' Ben pro wide Nature al nostro stato Quando dell* Alpi schermo Pose fra noi e la tedesca rabbia.' " We are merely bondsmen to the re-establishment of the provisions of nature." " And we know we shaM succeed ! " said Emilia, permit- ting her antagonism to pass forth in irritable emphasis. Lady Charlotte quickly left them, to run up to Georgian*. She was not long in the house. Emilia hung near Merthyr all day, and she was near him when the knock was heard which she could suppose to be Wilfrid's, as it proved. \\ i frid was ushered in to Georgians Delicacy had P*"*" Merthyr from taking special notice to Emilia of Lady Charlotte's visit, and he treated Wilfrid's similarly, saying, " Georgey will send down word." 424 EMILIA IN ENGLAND " Only, don't leave me till she does," Emilia rejoined. Her agitation laid her open to be misinterpreted. It was increased when she saw him take a book and sit in the arm- chair between two lighted candles, calmly careless of her. She did not actually define to herself that he should feel jealously, but his indifference was one extreme which pro- voked her instinct to imagine a necessity for the other. Word came from Georgiana, and Emilia moved to the door. " Remember, we dine half-an-hour earlier to-day, on account of the Cameron party," was all that he uttered. Emilia made an effort to go. She felt herself as a ship sailing into peril- ous waters, without compass. Why did he not speak ten- derly ? Before Georgiana had revealed his love for her, she had been strong to see Wilfrid. Now, the idea smote her softened heart that Wilfrid's passion might engulf her if she had no word of sustainment from Merthyr. She turned and flung herself at his feet, murmuring, " Say something to me." Merthyr divined this emotion to be a sort of foresight of remorse on her part : he clasped the interwoven fingers of her hands, letting his eyes dwell upon hers. The marvel of their not wavering or softening meaningly kept her speech- less. She rose with a strength not her own : not comforted, and no longer speculating. It was as if she had been eyeing a golden door shut fast, that might some day open, but was in itself precious to behold. She arose with deep humbleness, which awakened new ideas of the nature of vorth in her bosom. She felt herself so low before this man who would not be played upon as an obsequious instru- ment who would not leap into ardour for her beauty ! Before that man upstairs how would she feel ? The ques- tion did not come to her. She entered the room where he was, without a blush. Her step was firm, and her face ex- pressed a quiet gladness. Georgiana stayed through the first commonplaces : then they were alone. INTERRUPTED BY THE PHILOSOPHER 426 CHAPTER LI A CHAPTER INTERRUPTED BY THE PHILOSOPHER COMMONPLACES continued to be Wilfrid's refuge, for senti- ment was surging mightily within him. The commonplaces concerning father, sisters, health, weather, sickened him when uttered, so much that for a time he was unobservant of Emilia's ready exchange of them. To a compliment on her appearance, she said : " You like this dress ? I will tell you the history of it. I call it the Branciani dress. Mr. Powys designed it for me. The Countess Branciani was his friend. She used always to dress in this colour ; just in this style. She also was dark. And she imagined that her husband favoured the Austrians. She believed he was an Austrian spy. It was impossible for her not to hate him " " Her husband ! " quoth Wilfrid. The unexpected rich- ness that had come upon her beauty and the coolness of her prattle at such an interview amazed and mortified him. " She supposed him to be an Austrian spy ! " " Still he was her husband ! " Emilia gave her features a moment's play, but she had not full command of them, and the spark of scorn they emitted was very slight. " Ah ! " his tone had fallen into a depth, " how I thank you for the honour you have done me in desiring to see me once before you leave England ! I know that I have not merited it." More he said on this theme, blaming himself emphati- cally, until, startled by the commonplaces he was uttering, he stopped short ; and the stopping was effective, if the speech was not. Where was the tongue of his passion' He almost asked it of himself. Where was Hippogrifl He who had burned to see her, he saw her now, fair as a vision, and yet in the flesh! Why was he as good as tongue-tied in her presence when he had such fires to pour forth? 426 EMILIA IN ENGLAND (Presuming that he has not previously explained it, the Philosopher here observes that Hippogriff, the foal of Fiery Circumstance out of Sentiment, must be subject to strong sentimental friction before he is capable of a flight: his appetites must fast long in the very eye of provocation ere he shall be eloquent. Let him, the Philosopher, repeat at the same time that souls harmonious to Nature, of whom there are few, do not mount this animal. Those who have true passion are not at the mercy of Hippogriff other- wise Sur-excited Sentiment. You will mark in them con- stantly a reverence for the laws of their being, and a natural obedience to common sense. They are subject to storm, as in everything earthly, and they need no lesson of devotion; but they never move to an object in a madness.) Now this is good teaching : it is indeed my Philoso- pher's object his purpose to work out this distinction; and all I wish is that it were good for my market. What the Philosopher means, is to plant in the reader's path a staring contrast between my pet Emilia and his puppet Wilfrid. It would be very commendable and serviceable if a novel were what he thinks it: but all attestation favours the critical dictum, that a novel is to give us copi- ous sugar and no cane. I, myself, as a reader, consider con- comitant cane an adulteration of the qualities of sugar. My Philosopher's error is to deem the sugar, born of the cane, inseparable from it. The which is naturally resented, and away flies my book back at the heads of the librarians, hitting me behind them a far more grievous blow. Such is the construction of my story, however, that to entirely deny the Philosopher the privilege he stipulated for when with his assistance I conceived it, would render our performance unintelligible to that acute and honourable minority which consents to be thwacked with aphorisms and sentences and a fantastic delivery of the verities. While my Play goes on, I must permit him to come forward occasionally. We are indeed in a sort of partnership, and it is useless for me to tell him that he is not popular and destroys my chance. A FRESH DUETT BETWEEN WILFRID AND EMILIA CHAPTER LII A FRESH DUETT BETWEEN WILFEID AND EMILIA " DON'T blame yourself, my Wilfrid." Emilia spoke thus, full of pity for him, and in her adorable, deep-fluted tones, after the effective stop he had come to. The ' my Wilfrid ' made the owner of the name quiver with satisfaction. He breathed : " You have forgiven me ? " "That I have. And there was indeed no blame. My voice has gone. Yes, but I do not think it your fault" " It was ! it is ! " groaned Wilfrid. " But, has your voice gone ? " He leaned nearer to her, drawing largely on the claim his incredulity had to inspect her sweet features accu- rately. "You speak just as more deliciously than ever! I can't think you have lost it. Ah ! forgive me ! forgive me ! " Emilia was about to put her hand over to him, but the prompt impulse was checked by a simultaneous feminine warning within. She smiled, saying : " ' I forgive ' seems such a strange thing for me to say ; " and to convey any further meaning that might comfort him, better than words could do, she held on her smile. The smile was of the ac- ceptedly feigned, conventional character; a polished sur- face : belonging to the passage of the discourse, and not to the emotions. Wilfrid's swelling passion slipped on it Sensitively he discerned an ease in its formation and dis- appearance that shot a first doubt through him, whether he really maintained his empire in her heart If he did not reign there, why had she sent for him ? He attributed the unheated smile to a defect in her manner, that was always chargeable with something, as he remembered. He began systematically to account for his acts : but the man was so constituted that as he laid them out for pardon, he himself condemned them most ; and looking bact at his weakness and double play, he broke through his phrases to cry with- out premeditation : " Can you have loved me then ? " Emilia's cheeks tingled: "Don't speak of that night in Devon," she replied. 428 EMILIA IN ENGLAND "Ah!" sighed he. "I did not mean then. Then you must have hated me." "No; for, what did I say? I said that you would come to me nothing more. I hated that woman. You? Oh, no!" " You loved me, then? " " Did I not offer to work for you, if you were poor? And I can't remember what I said. Please, do not speak of that night." "Emilia! as a man of honour, I was bound " She lifted her hands: "Oh! be silent, and let that night die." " I may speak of that night when you drove home from Penarvon Castle, and a robber ? You have forgotten him, perhaps! What did he steal? not what he came for, but something dearer to him than anything he possesses. How can I say ? Dear to me? If it were dipped in my heart's blood! " Emilia was far from being carried away by the recollec- tion of the scene ; but remembering what her emotion had then been, she wondered at her coolness now. " I may speak of Wilming Weir? " he insinuated. Her bosom rose softly and heavily. As if throwing off some cloak of enchantment that clogged her spirit ! " I was telling you of this dress," she said: "I mean, of Countess Branciani. She thought her husband was the Austrian spy who had betrayed them, and she said, 'He is not worthy to live/ Everybody knew that she had loved him. I have seen his portrait and hers. I never saw faces that looked so fond of life. She had that Italian beauty which is to any other like the difference between velvet and silk." " Oh ! do I require to be told the difference? " Wilfrid's heart throbbed. "She," pursued Emilia, "she loved him still, I believe, but her country was her religion. There was known to be a great conspiracy, and no one knew the leader of it. All true Italians trusted Countess Branciani, though she visited the Austrian Governor's house a General with some name on the teeth. One night she said to him, 'You have a spy who betrays you.' The General never suspected Countess Branciani. Women are devils of cleverness sometimes. A FRESH DUETT BETWEEN WILFRID AND EMILIA 429 But he did suspect it must be her husband thinking, I suppose, 'How otherwise would she have known he was my spy? ' He gave Count Branciani secret work and high pay Then he set a watch on him. Count Branciani was to find out who was this unknown leader. He said to the Austrian Governor, 'You shall know him in ten days.* This was repeated to Countess Branciani, and she said to herself, 'My husband! you shall perish, though I should have to stab you myself. ' ' Emilia's sympathetic hand twitched. Wilfrid's seized it, but it proved no soft melting prize. She begged to be allowed to continue. He entreated her to. Thereat she pulled gently for her hand, and persisting, it was grudg. ingly let go. " One night Countess Branciani put the Austrians on her husband's track. He knew that she was true to her coun- try, and had no fear of her, whether she touched the Black- yellow gold or not. But he did not confide any of his projects to her. And his reason was, that as she went to the Governor's, she might accidentally, by a word or a sign, show that she was an accomplice in the conspiracy. He wished to save her from a suspicion. Brave Branciani ! " Emilia had a little shudder of excitement. "Only," she added, "why will men always think women are so weak? The Count worked with conspirators who were not dreaming they would do anything, but were plot- ting to do it. The Countess belonged to the other party men who never thought they were strong enough to see their ideas acting I mean, not bold enough to take their chance. As if we die more than one death, and the blood we spill for Italy is ever wasted! That night the Austrian spy followed the Count to the meeting-house of the conspir- ators. It was thought quite natural that the Count should go there. But the spy, not having the password, crouched outside, and heard from two that came out muttering, the next appointment for a meeting. This was told to Count- ess Branciani, and in the meantime she heard from the Aus- trian Governor that her husband had given in names of the conspirators. She determined at once. Now may Christ and the Virgin help me ! " Emilia struck her knees, while tears started through her 430 EMILIA IN ENGLAND shut eyelids. The exclamation must have been caught from her father, who liked not the priests of his native land well enough to interfere between his English wife and their child in such a matter as religious training. " What happened ? " said Wilfrid, vainly seeking for a personal application in this narrative. " Listen ! Ah ! " she fought with her tears, and said, as they rolled down her face : " For a miserable thing one can- not help, I find I must cry. This is what she did. She told him she knew of the conspiracy, and asked permission to join it, swearing that she was true to Italy. He said he believed her. Oh, heaven! And for some time she had to beg and beg; but to spare her he would not let her join. I cannot tell why he gave her the password for the next meeting, and said that an old gold coin must be shown. She must have coaxed it, though he was a strong man, who could resist women. I suppose he felt that he had been unkind. Were I Queen of Italy he should stand for ever in a statue of gold ! The next appointed night a spy en- tered among the conspirators, with the password and the coin. Did I tell you the Countess had one child a girl ! She lives now, and I am to know her. She is like her mother. That little girl was playing down the stairs with her nurse when a band of Austrian soldiers entered the hall underneath, and an officer, with his sword drawn, and some men, came marching up in their stiff way the machines! This officer stooped to her, and before the nurse could stop her, made her say where her father was. Those Austrians make children betray their parents ! They don't think how we grow up to detest them. Do I ? Hate is not the word : it burns so hot and steady with me. The Countess came out on the first landing; she saw what was happening. When her husband was led out, she asked permission to embrace him. The officer consented, but she had to say to him, ' Move back,' and then, with her lips to her husband's cheek, ( Betray no more of them ! ' she whispered. Count Branciani started. Now he understood what she had done, and why she had done it. * Ask for the charge that makes me a prisoner,' he said. Her husband's noble face gave her a chill of alarm. The Austrian spoke. ' He is accused of being the chief of the Sequin Club.' And then the Countess A FRESH DUETT BETWEEN WILFRID AND EMILIA 481 looked at her husband; she sank at his feet. My heart breaks. Wilfrid! Wilfrid! You will not wear that uni- form ? Say ' Never, never ! ' You will not go to the Austrian army Wilfrid? Would you be my enemy? Brutes, knee-deep in blood! with bloody fingers! Ogres! Would you be one of them ? To see me turn my head shiv- ering with loathing as you pass ? This is why I sent for you, because I loved you, to entreat you, Wilfnd, from my soul, not to blacken the dear happy days when I knew you ! Will you hear me ? That woman is changeing you doing all this. Resist her! Think of me in this one thing! Promise it, and I will go at once, and want no more. I will swear never to trouble you. Oh, Wilfrid ! it's not so much our being enemies, but what you become, I think of. If I say to myself, 'He also, who was once my lover Oh ! paid murderer of my dear people ! ' ' Emilia threw up both hands to her eyes : but Wilfrid, all on fire with a word, made one of her hands his own, repeat- ing eagerly : " Once ? once ? " " Once ? " she echoed him. "'Once my love?'" said he. "Not now? does it mean, ' not now ? ' My darling ! pardon me, I must say it My beloved! you said: 'He who was once my lover :'- you said that. What does it mean ? Not that not does it mean, all's over? Why did you bring me here? You know I must love you for ever. Speak ! ' Once ? ' "'Once?'" Emilia was breathing quick, but her voice was well contained: "Yes, I said 'once.' You were then." " Till that night in Devon ? " " Let it be." " But you love me still ? " " We won't speak of it." "I see! You cannot forgive. Good heavens! I I remember your saying so once Once! Yes, then: you said it then, during our 'Once;' when I little thought^ would be merciless to me who loved you from toe t the very first ! I love you now ! I wake up in the nighl thinking I hear your voice. You haunt me. Cruel ! col<3 who guards you and watches over you but the man y now hate? You sit there as if you could make yours- stone when you pleased. Did I not chastise that man I EMILIA IN ENGLAND cles publicly because he spoke a single lie of you? And by that act I have made an enemy to our house who may crush us in ruin. Do I regret it ? No. I would do any madness, waste all my blood for you, die for you ! " Emilia's fingers received a final twist, and were dropped loose. She let them hang, looking sadly downward. Mel- ancholy is the most irritating reply to passion, and Wilfrid's heart waxed fierce at the sight of her, grown beautiful ! grown elegant ! and to reject him ! When, after a silence which his pride would not suffer him to break, she spoke to ask what Mr. Pericles had said of her, he was enraged, forgot himself, and answered : " Something disgraceful." Deep colour came on Emilia. "You struck him, Wil- frid?" "It was a small punishment for his infamous lie, and, whatever might be the consequences, I would do it again." "Wilfrid, I have heard what he has said. Madame Marini has told me. I wish you had not struck him. I cannot think of him apart from the days when I had my voice. I cannot bear to think of your having hurt him. He was not to blame. That is, he did not say : it was not untrue." She took a breath to make this last statement, and con- tinued with the same peculiar implicity of distinctness, which a terrific thunder of " What? " from Wilfrid did not overbear: "I was quite mad that day I went to him. I think, in my despair I spoke things that may have led him to fancy the truth of what he has said. On my honour, I do not know. And I cannot remember what happened after for the week I wandered alone about London. Mr. Powys found me on a wharf by the river at night." A groan burst from Wilfrid. Emilia's instinct had di- vined the antidote that this would be to the poison of revived love in him, and she felt secure, though he had again taken her hand; but it was she who nursed a mere sentiment now, while passion sprang in him, and she was not prepared for the delirium with which he enveloped her. She listened to his raving senselessly, beginning to think herself lost. Her tortured hands were kissed; her eyes gazed into. He interpreted her stupefaction as contrition, her silence as delicacy, her changeing of colour as flying A FRESH DUETT BETWEEN WILFRID AND EMILIA 483 hues of shame: the partial coldness at their meeting he attributed to the burden on her mind, and muttering in a magnanimous sublimity that he forgave her, he claimed her mouth with force. "Don't touch me ! " cried Emilia, showing terror. " Are you not mine ? " "You must not kiss me." Wilfrid loosened her waist, and became in a minute out- wardly most cool and courteous. " My successor may object. I am bound to consider him. Pardon me. ONCE ! " The wretched insult and silly emphasis passed harmlessly from her: but a word had led her thoughts to Merthyr's face, and what is meant by the phrase 'keeping oneself pure,' stood clearly in Emilia's mind. She had not winced; and therefore Wilfrid judged that his shot had missed be- cause there was no mark. With his eye upon her sideways, showing its circle wide as a parrot's, he asked her one of those questions that lovers sometimes permit between them- selves. " Has another ? " It is here as it was uttered. Eye-speech finished the sentence. Rapidly a train of thought was started in Emilia, and she came to this conclusion, aloud: "Then I love nobody f" For she had never kissed Merthyr, or wished for his kiss. "You do not?" said Wilfrid, after a silence. "You are generous in being candid." A pressure of intensest sorrow bowed his head. The real feeling in him stole to Emilia like a subtle flame. "Oh! what can I do for you?" she cried. " Nothing, if you do not love me," he was replying mourn- fully, when, "Yes! yes!" rushed to his lips; "marry me: marry me to-morrow. You have loved me. 'I am never to leave you ! ' Can you forget the night when you said i Emilia ! Marry me and you will love me again. You must. This man, whoever he is Ah ! why am I such a brute ! Come! be mine! Let me call you my own darling! Emilia? -or say quietly 'you have nothing to hope for: not reproach you, believe me." He looked resigned. The abrupt transition had drai her eyes to his. She faltered : " I cannot be married. And then: "How could I guess that you felt in this way? 434 EMILIA IN ENGLAND "Who told me that I should?" said he. "Your words have come true. You predicted that I should fly from 'that woman, ' as you called her, and come to you. See ! here it is exactly as you willed it. You you are changed. You throw your magic on me, and then you are satisfied, and turn elsewhere." Emilia's conscience smote her with a verification of this charge, and she trembled, half-intoxicated for the moment, by the aspect of her power. This filled her likewise with a dangerous pity for its victim; and now, putting out both hands to him, her chin and shoulders raised entreatingly, she begged the victim to spare her any word of marriage. "But you go, you run away from me I don't know where you are or what you are doing, " said Wilfrid. " And you leave me to that woman. She loves the Austrians, as you know. There ! I will ask nothing only this : I will promise, if I quit the Queen's service for good, not to wear the white uniform " " Oh ! " Emilia breathed inward deeply, scarce noticing the 'if that followed; nodding quick assent to the stipula- tion before she heard the nature of it. It was, that she should continue in England. "Your word," said Wilfrid; and she pledged it, and did not think she was granting much in the prospect of what she gained. "You will, then?" said he. "Yes, I will." " On your honour? " These reiterated questions were simply pretexts for steps nearer to the answering lips. " And I may see you? " he went on. "Yes." "Wherever you are staying? And sometimes alone? Alone! ' "Not if you do not know that I am to be respected," said Emilia, huddled in the passionate fold of his arms. He re- leased her instantly, and was departing, wounded; but his heart counselled wiser proceedings. " To know that you are in England, breathing the same air with me, near me! is enough. Since we are to meet on those terms, let it be so. Let me only see you till some lucky shot puts me out of your way." A FRESH DDETT BETWEEN WILFBID AND EMILIA 486 This 'some lucky shot,' which is commonly pointed at themselves by the sentimental lovers, with the object of hitting the very centre of the hearts of obdurate damseU, glanced off Emilia's, which was beginning to throb with a comprehension of all that was involved in the word she had given. "I have your promise?" he repeated: and she bent her head. "Not," he resumed, taking jealousy to counsel, now that he had advanced a step : " Not that I would detain you against your will! I can't expect to make such a figure at the end of the piece as your Count Branciani who, by the way, served his friends oddly, however well he may have served his country." " His friends ? " She frowned. "Did he not betray the conspirators? He handed in names, now and then." " Oh ! " she cried, " you understand us no better than an Austrian. He handed in names yes! he was obliged to lull suspicion. Two or three of the least implicated volun- teered to be betrayed by him ; they went and confessed, and put the Government on a wrong track. Count Branciani made a dish of traitors not true men to satisfy the Austrian ogre. No one knew the head of the plot till that night of the spy. Do you not see? he weeded the con- spiracy ! " " Poor fellow ! " Wilfrid answered, with a contracted mouth : " I pity him for being cut off from his handsome wife." "I pity her for having to live," said Emilia. And so their duett dropped to a finish. He liked her phrase better than his own, and being denied any privileges, and feeling stupefied by a position which both enticed and stung him, he remarked that he presumed he must not detain her any longer; whereupon she gave him her hand. He clutched the ready hand reproachfully. "Good-bye," said she. "You are the first to say it," he complained. " Will you write to that Austrian colonel, your cousin, to say 'Never! never!' to-morrow, Wilfrid?" " While you are in England, I shall stay, be sure of that. 436 EMILIA IN ENGLAND She bade him give her love to all Brookfield. " Once you had none to give but what I let you take back for the purpose ! " he said. " Farewell ! I shall see the harp to-night. It stands in the old place. I will not have it moved or touched till you " "Ah! how kind you were, Wilfrid!" " And how lovely you are ! " There was no struggle to preserve the backs of her fingers from his lips, and, as this time his phrase was not palpably obscured by the one it countered, artistic sentiment per- mitted him to go. CHAPTER LIII ALDEBMAN'S BOUQUET A MINUTE after his parting with Emilia, Wilfrid swung round in the street and walked back at great strides. " What a fool I was not to see that she was acting indiffer- ence ! " he cried. " Let me have two seconds with her ! " But how that was to be contrived his diplomatic brain re- fused to say. "And what a stiff, formal fellow I was all the time ! " He considered that he had not uttered a sen- tence in any way pointed to touch her heart. " She must think I am still determined to marry that woman." Wilfrid had taken his stand on the opposite side of the street, and beheld a male figure in the dusk, that went up to the house and then stood back scanning the windows. Wounded by his audacious irreverence toward the walls behind which his beloved was sheltered, Wilfrid crossed and stared at the intruder. It proved to be Braintop. "How do you do, sir! no! that can't be the house," stammered Braintop, with a very earnest scrutiny. "What house? what do you want?" enquired Wilfrid. " Jenkinson, " was the name that won the honour of rescu- ing Braintop from this dilemma. "No; it is Lady Gosstre's house: Miss Belloni is living there; and stop: you know her. Just wait, and take in two or three words from me, and notice particularly how ALDERMAN'S BOUQUET 487 she is looking, and the dress she wears. You can say say that Mrs. Chump sent you to enquire after Miss Belloni'i health." Wilfrid tore a leaf from his pocket-book, and wrote: 'I can be free to-morrow. One word! I thatt expect it, with your name in full. ' But even in the red heat of passion his born diplomacy withheld his own signature. It was not difficult to over- ride Braintop's scruples about presenting himself, and Wil- frid paced a sentinel measure awaiting the reply. " F^ee to-morrow," he repeated, with a glance at his watch under a lamp : and thus he soliloquized : " What a time that fellow is ! Yes, I can be free to-morrow if I will. I wonder what the deuce Gambier had to do in Monmouthshire. If he has been playing with my sister's reputation, he shall have short shrift. That fellow Braintop sees her now my little Emilia! my bird! She won't have changed her dress till she has dined. If she changes it before she goes out by Jove, if she wears it to-night before all those people, that'll mean 'Good-bye' to me: 'Addio, caro,' as those olive women say, with their damned cold languor, when they have given you up. She's not one of them! Good God! she came into the room looking like a little Empress. I'll swear her hand trembled when I went, though! My sisters shall see her in that dress. She must have a clever lady's maid to have done that knot to her back hair. She'i getting as full of art as any of them Oh ! lovely little dar- ling! And when she smiles and holds out her hand! What is it what is it about her? Her upper lip isn't per- fectly cut, there's some fault with her nose, but I never saw such a mouth, or such a face. 'Free to-morrow?' Good God! she'll think I mean I'm free to take a walk!' At this view of the ghastly shortcoming of his letter as regards distinctness, and the prosaic misinterpretation it was open to, Wilfrid called his inventive wits to aid, and ran swiftly to the end of the street. He had become aa like unto a lunatic as resemblance can approach identity. Commanding the length of the pavement for an instant, to be sure that no Braintop was in sight, he ran down a lateral street, but the stationer's shop he was in search of beamed nowhere visible for him, and he returned at the same 438 EMILIA IN ENGLAND to experience despair at the thought that he might have missed Braintop issuing forth, for whom he scoured the immediate neighbourhood, and overhauled not a few quiet gentlemen of all ages. " An envelope ! " That was the object of his desire, and for that he wooed a damsel passing jauntily with a jug in her hand, first telling her that he knew her name was Mary, at which singular piece of divina- tion she betrayed much natural astonishment. But a fine round silver coin and an urgent request for an envelope, told her as plainly as a blank confession that this was a lover. She informed him that she lived three streets off, where there were shops. "Well, then," said Wilfrid, " bring me the envelope here, and you'll have another op- portunity of looking down the area." "Think of yourself," replied she, saucily; but proved a diligent messenger. Then Wilfrid wrote on a fresh slip: ' When I said "Free," I meant free in heart and without a single chain to keep me from you. From any moment that you please, I am free. This is written in the dark. ' He closed the envelope, and wrote Emilia's name and the address as black as his pencil could achieve it, and with a smart double-knock he deposited the missive in the box. From his station opposite he guessed the instant when it was taken out, and from that judged when she would be reading it. Or perhaps she would not read it till she was alone? "That must be her bedroom," he said, looking for a light in one of the upper windows; but the voice of a fellow who went by with : " I should keep that to myself, if I was you," warned him to be more discreet. "Well, here I am. I can't leave the street," quoth Wil- frid, to the stock of philosophy at his disposal. He burned with rage to think of how he might be exhibiting himself before Powys and his sister. It was half -past nine when a carriage drove up to the door. Into this Mr. Powys presently handed Georgiana and Emilia. Braintop followed the ladies, and then the coachman received his instructions and drove away. Forth- with Wilfrid started in pursuit. He calculated that if his wind held till he could jump into a light cab, his legitimate prey Braintop might be caught. For, " they can't be taking him to any party with them!" he chose to think, and i* ALDERMAN'S BOUQUET was a fair calculation that they were simply conducting Braintop part of his way home. The run was pretty swift. Wilfrid's blood was fired by the pace, until, forgetting the traitor Braintop, up rose Truth from the bottom of the well in him, and he felt that his sole desire was to see Emilia once more but once ! that night. Running hard, in the midst of obstacles, and with eye and mind fixed on one ob- ject, disasters befell him. He knocked apples off a stall, and heard vehement hallooing behind : he came into col- lision with a gentleman of middle age courting digestion as he walked from his trusty dinner at home to his rubber at the Club : finally he rushed full tilt against a pot-boy who was bringing all his pots broadside to the flow of the street. " By Jove ! is this what they drink? " he gasped, and dabbed with his handkerchief at the beer-splashes, breathlessly hailing the looked-for cab, and, with hot brow and straight- ened-out forefinger, telling the driver to keep that carriage in sight. The pot-boy had to be satisfied on his master's account, and then on his own, and away shot Wilfrid, wet with beer from throat to knee to his chief protesting sense, nothing but an exhalation of beer! "Is this what they drink? " he groaned, thinking lamentably of the tastes of the populace. All idea of going near Emilia was now abandoned. An outward application of beer quenched his frenzy. She seemed as an unattainable star seen from the depths of foul pits. "Stop! " he cried from the window. "Here we are, sir," said the cabman. The carriage had drawn up, and a footman's alarum awakened one of the houses. The wretched cabman had likewise drawn up right under the windows of the carriage. Wilfrid could have pulled the trigger of a pistol at his fore- head that moment. He saw that Miss Ford had recognized him, and he at once bowed elegantly. She dropped the window, and said, "You are in evening dress, I think; we will take you in with us." Wilfrid hoped eagerly he might be allowed 1 3 hand th to the door, and made three skips across the mire, had her hands gathered away from the chances of In wild rage he began protesting that he could not powiWy enter, when Georgiana said, "I wish to speak to you, an. put feminine pressure upon him. He was almos 440 EMILIA IN ENGLAND verge of the word " beer, " by way of despairing explana- tion, when the door closed behind him. "Permit me to say a word to your recent companion. He is my father's clerk. I had to see him on urgent busi- ness; that is why I took this liberty," he said, and retreated. Braintop was still there, quietly posted, performing upon his head with a pocket hair-brush. Wilfrid put Braintop's back to the light, and said, "Is my shirt soiled? " After a short inspection, Braintop pronounced that it was, "just a little." " Do you smell anything? " said Wilfrid, and hung with frightful suspense on the verdict. "A fellow upset beer on me." " It is beer ! " sniffed Braintop. "What on earth shall I do?" was the rejoinder; and Wilfrid tried to remember whether he had felt any sacred joy in touching Emilia's dress as they went up the steps to the door. Braintop fumbled in the breast-pocket of his coat. " I happen to have, " he said, rather shamefacedly "What is it?" " Mrs. Chump gave it to me to-day. She always makes me accept something : I can't refuse. It's this : the re- mains of some scent she insisted on my taking, in a bottle." Wilfrid plucked at the stopper with a reckless despera- tion, saturated his handkerchief, and worked at his breast as if he were driving a lusty dagger into it. "What scent is it?" he asked hurriedly. "Alderman's Bouquet, sir." "Of all the detestable! " Wilfrid had no time for more, owing to fresh arrivals. He hastened in, with his smiling, wary face, half trusting that there might after all be purification in Alderman's Bouquet, and promising heaven due gratitude if Emilia's senses discerned not the curse on him. In the hall a gust from the great opening contention between Alderman's Bouquet and bad beer, stifled his sickly hope. Frantic, but under perfect self- command outwardly, he glanced to right and left, for the suggestion of a means of escape. They were seven steps up the stairs before his wits prompted him to say to Georgi- ALDERMAN'S BOUQUET 441 ana, " I have just heard very serious news from home. I fear " "What? or, pardon me: does it call you away?" she asked, and Emilia gave him a steady look. "I fear I cannot remain here. Will you excuse me?" His face spoke plainly now of mental torture repressed. Georgiana put her hand out in full sympathy, and Emilia said, in her deep whisper, " Let me hear to-morrow." Then they bowed. Wilfrid was in the street again. " Thank God, I've seen her! " was his first thought, over- bearing "What did she think of me?" as he sighed with relief at his escape. For, lo ! the Branciani dress was not on her shoulders, and therefore he might imagine what he pleased : that she had arrayed herself so during the day to delight his eyes ; or that, he having seen her in it, she had determined none others should. Though feeling utterly humiliated, he was yet happy. Driving to the station, he perceived starlight overhead, and blessed it; while his hand waved busily to conduct a current of fresh, oblivious air to his nostrils. The quiet heavens seemed all crowding to look down on the quiet circle of the firs, where Emilia's harp had first been heard by him, and they took her music, charming his blood with imagined harmonies, as he looked up to them. Thus all the way to Brookfield his fancy soared, plucked at from below by Alderman's Bouquet. The Philosopher, up to this point rigidly excluded, rushes forward to the footlights to explain in a note, that Wilfrid, thus setting a perfume to contend with a stench, instead of waiting for time, change of raiment, and the broad lusty airs of heaven to blow him fresh again, sym- bolizes the vice of Sentimentalism, and what it is alwaj* doing. Enough ! 442 EMILIA IN ENGLAND CHAPTER LIV THE EXPLOSION AT BBOOKFIELD "LET me hear to-morrow." Wilfrid repeated Emilia's petition in the tone she had used, and sent a delight through his veins even with that clumsy effort of imitation. He walked from the railway to Brookfield through the circle of firs, thinking of some serious tale of home to invent for her ears to-morrow. Whatever it was, he was able to con- clude it "But all's right now." He noticed that the dwarf pine, under whose spreading head his darling sat when he saw her first, had been cut down. Its absence gave him an ominous chill. The first sight that saluted him as the door opened, was a pile of Mrs. Chump's boxes : he listened, and her voice resounded from the library. Gainsford's eye expressed a discretion significant that there had been an explosion in the house. "I shan't have to invent much," said Wilfrid to himself, bitterly. There was a momentary appearance of Adela at the library-door ; and over her shoulder came an outcry from Mrs. Chump. Arabella then spoke : Mr. Pole and Cornelia following with a word, to which Mrs. Chump responded shrilly : "Ye shan't talk to 'm, none of ye, till I've had the bloom of his ear, now ! " A confused hubbub of English and Irish ensued. The ladies drew their brother into the library. Doubtless you have seen a favourite sketch of the imagi- native youthful artist, who delights to portray scenes on a raft amid the tossing waters, where sweet and satiny ladies, in a pardonable abandonment to the exigencies of the occa- sion, are exhibiting the full energy and activity of creatures that existed before sentiment was born. The ladies of Brookfield had almost as utterly cast off their garb of lofty reserve and inscrutable superiority. They were begging Mrs. Chump to be, for pity's sake, silent. They were arguing with th* woman. They were remonstrating to THE EXPLOSION AT BBOOKFIELD 443 such an extent as this, in reply to an infamous outburst: "No, no: indeed, Mrs. Chump, indeed!" They rose, as she rose, and stood about her, motioning a beseeching em- phasis with their hands. Not visible for one second was the intense indignation at their fate which Wilfrid, spying keenly into them, perceived. This taught him that the occasion was as grave as could be. In spite of the oily words his father threw from time to time abruptly on the tumult, he guessed what had happened. Briefly, Mrs. Chump, aided by Braintop, her squire, had at last hunted Mr. Pericles down, and the wrathful Greek had called her a beggar. With devilish malice he had reproached her for speculating in such and such Bonds, and sending ventures to this and that hemisphere, laughing infernally as he watched her growing amazement. "Ye're jokin', Mr. Paricles," she tried to say and think ; but the very naming of poverty had given her shivers. She told him how she had come to him because of Mr. Pole's reproach, which accused her of causing the rupture. Mr. Pericles twisted the waxy points of his moustache. " I shall advise you, go home," he said ; " go to a lawyer : say, ' I will see my affairs, how zey stand.' Ze man will find Pole is ruined. It may be I do not know Pole has left a little of your money ; yes, ma'am, it may be." The end of the interview saw Mrs. Chump flying past Mr. Pericles to where Braintop stood awaiting her with a medi- tative speculation on that official promotion which in his attention to the lady he anticipated. It need scarcely be remarked that he was astonished to receive a scent-bottle on the spot, as the only reward his meritorious service was probably destined ever to meet with. Breathless in her panic, Mrs. Chump assured him she was a howling beggar, and the smell of a scent was "like a crool blow to her;" above all, the smell of Alderman's Bouquet, which Chump " tell'n a lie, ye know, Mr. Braintop, said was after him. And I, smell'n at 't over 'n Ireland a raw garl I was- just thought 'm a prince, the little sly fella ! And oh ! I'm a beggar, I am ! " With which, she shouted in the street, and put Braintop to such confusion that he hailed a cab recklessly, declaring to her she had no time to lose, J she wished to catch the train. Mrs. Chump requested the 444 EMILIA IN ENGLAND cabman that as a man possessed of a feeling heart for the interests of a helpless woman, he would drive fast ; and, at the station, disputed his charge on the ground of the know- ledge already imparted to him of her precarious financial state. In this frame of mind she fell upon Brookfield, and there was clamour in the house. Wilfrid arrived two hours after Mrs. Chump. For that space the ladies had been say- ing over and over again empty words to pacify her. The task now devolved on their brother. Mr. Pole, though he had betrayed nothing under the excitement of the sudden shock, had lost the proper control of his mask. Wilfrid commenced by fixedly listening to Mrs. Chump until for the third time her breath had gone. Then, taking on a smile, he said: "Perhaps you are aware that Mr. Pericles has a particular reason for animosity to me. We've disagreed together, that's all. I suppose it's the habit of those fellows to attack a whole family where one member of it offends them." As soon as the meaning of this was made clear to Mrs. Chump, she caught it to her bosom for comfort; and finding it gave less than at the moment she required, she flung it away altogether ; and then moaned, a suppliant, for it once more. "The only thing, if you are in a state of alarm about my father's affairs, is for him to show you by his books that his house is firm," said Wilfrid, now that he had so far helped to eject suspicion from her mind. "Will Pole do ut? " ejaculated Mrs. Chump, half off her seat. " Of course I will of course ! of course. Haven't I told you so?" said Mr. Pole, blinking mightily from his arm- chair over the fire. "Sit down, Martha." " Oh ! but how'll I understand ye, Pole ? " she cried. " I'll do my best to assist in explaining," Wilfrid conde- scended to say. The ladies were touched when Mrs. Chump replied, with something of a curtsey, " I'll thank ye vary much, sir." She added immediately, " Mr. Wilf rud," as if correcting the ' sir/ for sounding cold. It was so trustful and simple, that it threw a light on the woman under which they had not yet beheld her. Compas- sion began to stir in their bosoms, and with it an inexplicable sense of shame, which soon threw any power of compassion THE EXPLOSION AT BROOKFIKLD 446 into the background. They dared not ask themselves whether it was true that their father had risked the poor thing's money in some desperate stake. What hopeful force was left to them they devoted to her property, and Adela deter- mined to pray that night for its safe preservation. The secret feeling in the hearts of the ladies was, that in putting them on their trial with poverty, Celestial Powers would never at the same time think it necessary to add disgrace Consequently, and as a defence against the darker dread, they now, for the first time, fully believed that monetary ruin had befallen their father. They were civil to Mrs. Chump, and forgiving toward her brogue, and her naked outcries of complaint and suddenly-suggested panic; but their pity, save when some odd turn in her conduct moved them, was reserved dutifully for their father. His wretched sensations at the pouring of a storm of tears from the ex- hausted creature, caused Arabella to rise and say to Mrs. Chump kindly, " Now let me take you to bed." But such a novel mark of tender civility caused the woman to exclaim : " Oh, dear ! if ye don't sound like wheedlin' to keep me blind." Even this was borne with. " Come ; it will do you good to rest," said Arabella. "Andhow'lllsleep?" " By ' shutting my eye-peeps,' as I used to tell my old nurse," said Adela ; and Mrs. Chump, accustomed to an oc- casional (though not public) bit of wheedling from her, was partially reassured. " I'll sit with you till you do sleep," said Arabella. " Suppose," Mrs. Chump moaned, " suppose I'm too poor aver to repay ye ? If I'm a bankrup' ? oh ! ' Arabella smiled. " Whatever I may do is certainly not done for a remuneration, and such a service as this, at least, you need not speak of." Mrs. Chump's evident surprise, and doubt of the honeaw* the change in her manner, caused Arabella very acutely to feel its dishonesty. She looked at Cornelia with envy. latter lady was leaning meditatively, her arm on a side o chair, like a pensive queen, with a ready, mild, embracn look for the company. ' Posture ' seemed always fc over action. 446 EMILIA IN ENGLAND Before quitting the room, Mrs. Chump asked Mr. Pole whether he would be up early the next morning. " Very early, you beat me, if you can," said he, aware that the question was put as a test to his sincerity. "Oh, dear! Suppose it's onnly a false alarrm of the 'bomunable Mr. Paricles which annybody'd have listened to ye know that ! " said Mrs. Chump, going forth. She stopped in the doorway, and turned her head round, sniffing, in a very pronounced way. " Oh, it's you," she flashed on Wilfrid ; " it's you, my dear, that smell so like poor Chump. Oh ! if we're not rooned, won't we dine to- gether ! Just give me a kiss, please. The smell of ye's comfortin'." Wilfrid bent his cheek forward, affecting to laugh, though the subject was tragic to him. " Oh ! perhaps I'll sleep, and not look in the mornin' like that beastly tallow, Mr. Paricles says I spent such a lot of money on, speculatin' whew, I hate ut ! and hemp too ! Me ! Martha Chump ! Do I want to hang myself, and burn forty thousand pounds worth o' candles round my corpse danglin' there ? Now, there, now ! Is that sense ? And what'd Pole want to buy me all that grease for? And where'd I keep ut, I'll ask ye ? And sure they wouldn't make me a bankrup' on such a pretence as that. For, where's the Judge that's got the heart ? " Having apparently satisfied her reason with these inter- rogations, Mrs. Chump departed, shaking her head at Wilfrid : " Ye smile so nice, ye do ! " by the way. Cornelia and Adela then rose, and Wilfrid was left alone with his father. It was natural that he should expect the moment for entire confidence between them to have come. He crossed his legs, leaning over the fireplace, and waited. The old man per- ceived him, and made certain humming sounds, as of prepa- ration. Wilfrid was half tempted to think he wanted assist- ance, and signified attention ; upon which Mr. Pole became immediately absorbed in profound thought. " Singular it is, you know," he said at last, with a candid air, "people who know nothing about business have the oddest ideas no common sense in 'em ! " After that he fell dead silent. Wilfrid knew that it would be hard for him to speak. To encourage him, he said : " You mean Mrs. Chump, sir ? " THE EXPLOSION AT BROOKFIELD 447 "Oh! silly woman absurd ! No, I mean all of you- every man Jack, as Martha'd say. You seem to think but! well ! there ! let's go to bed." "To bed ? " cried Wilfrid, frowning. " Why, when it's two or three o'clock in the morning, what's an old fellow to do ? My feet are cold, and I'm queer in the back can't talk ! Light my candle, young gentleman my candle there, don't you see it ? And you look none of the freshest. A nap on your pillow'll do you no harm." " I wanted to talk to you a little, sir," said Wilfrid, about as much perplexed as he was irritated. "Now, no talk of bankers' books to-night!" rejoined his father. "I can't and won't. No cheques written 'tween night and morning. That's positive. There! there's two fingers. Shall have three to-morrow morning a pen in 'em, perhaps." With which wretched pleasantry the little merchant nodded to his son, and snatching up his candle, trotted to the door. " By the way, give a look round my room upstairs, to see all right when you're going to turn in yourself," he said, before disappearing. The two fingers given him by his father to shake at part- ing, had told Wilfrid more than the words. And yet how small were these troubles around him compared with what he himself was suffering ! He looked forward to the bitter- sweet hour verging upon dawn, when he should be writing to Emilia things to melt the vilest obduracy. The excite- ment which had greeted him on his arrival at Brookfield was to be thanked for its having made him partially forget his humiliation. He had, of course, sufficient rational feel- ing to be chagrined by calamity, but his dominant passion sucked sustaining juices from every passing event In obedience to his father's request, Wilfrid went pres- ently into the old man's bedroom, to see that all was right The curtains of the bed were drawn close, and the fire in the grate burnt steadily. Calm sleep seemed to fill the chamber. Wilfrid was retiring, with a revived anger at his father's want of natural confidence in him, or cowardly secresy. His name was called, and he stopped short " Yes, sir ? " he said. 448 EMILIA IN ENGLAND "Door's shut?" " Shut fast." The voice, buried in curtains, canie after a struggle. "You've done this, Wilfrid. Now, don't answer: I can't stand talk. And you must undo it. Pericles can, if he likes. That's enough for you to know. He can. He won't see me. You know why. If he breaks with me it's a common case in any business I'm . . . we're involved together." Then followed a deep sigh. The usual crisp brisk way of his speaking was resumed in hollow tones : "You must stop it. Now, don't answer. Go to Pericles to-morrow. You must. Nothing wrong, if you go at once." " But, sir ! Good heaven ! " interposed Wilfrid, horrified by the thought of the penance here indicated. The bed shook violently. " If not," was uttered with a sort of muted vehemence, " there's another thing you can do. Go to the undertaker's, and order coffins for us all. There good night ! " The bed shook again. Wilfrid stood eyeing the mysteri- ous hangings, as if some dark oracle had spoken from behind them. In fear of irritating the old man, and almost as much in fear of bringing on himself a revelation of the frightful crisis that could only be averted by his apologiz- ing personally to the man he had struck, Wilfrid stole from the room. CHAPTEB LV THE TRAGEDY OF SENTIMENT THERE is a man among our actors here who may not be "known to you. It had become the habit of Sir Purcell Bar- rett's mind to behold himself as under a peculiarly malign shadow. Very young men do the same, if they are much afflicted: but this is because they are still boys enough to have the natural sense to be ashamed of ill-luck, even when they lack courage to struggle against it. The reproaching of Providence by a man of full growth, comes to some extent from his meanness, and chiefly from his pride. He remem- THE TRAGEDY OF SENTIMENT 449 bers that the old Gods selected great heroes whom to perse- cute, and it is his compensation for material losses to conceive himself a distinguished mark for the Powers of air. One who wraps himself in this delusion may have great qualities ; he cannot be of a very contemptible nature ; and in this place we will discriminate more closely than to call him fool. Had Sir Purcell sunk or bent under the thong that pursued him, he might, after a little healthy moaning, have gone along as others do. Who knows ? though a much persecuted man, he might have become so degraded as to have looked forward with cheerfulness to his daily dinner ; still despising, if he pleased, the soul that would invent a sauce. I mean to say, he would, like the larger body of our sentimentalists, have acquiesced in our simple humanity, but without sacrificing a scruple to its grossness, or going arm-in-arm with it by any means. Sir Purcell, however, never sank, and never bent. He was in- variably erect before men, and he did not console himself with a murmur in secret. He had lived much alone ; eating alone; thinking alone. To complain of a father is, to a delicate mind, a delicate matter, and Sir Purcell was a gen- tleman to all about him. His chief affliction in his youth, therefore, kept him dumb. A gentleman to all about him, he unhappily forgot what was due to his own nature. Must we not speak under pressure of a grief? Little people should know that they must : but then the primary task is to teach them that they are little people. For, if they re- press the outcry of a constant irritation, and the complaint against injustice, they lock up a feeding devil in their hearts, and they must have vast strength to crush him there. Strength they must have to kill him, and freshness of spirit to live without him, after he has once entertained them with his most comforting discourses. Have you listened to him, ever ? He does this : he plays to you your music (it is he who first teaches thousands that they have any musio at all, so guess what a dear devil he is !) ; and when he has played this ravishing melody, he falls to upon a burlesque contrast of hurdy-gurdy and bag-pipe squeal and bellow and drone, which is meant for the music of the world. sweeter was yours ! This charming devil Sir Purcell had nursed from childhood. As a child, between a flighty mother and a father verging 450 EMILIA IN ENGLAND to insanity from caprice, he had grown up with ideas of filial duty perplexed, and with a fitful love for either, that was not attachment : a baffled natural love, that in teaching us to brood on the hardness of our lot, lays the foundation for a perniciously mystical self-love. He had waxed preco- ciously philosophic, when still a junior. His father had kept him by his side, giving him no profession beyond that of the obedient expectant son and heir. His first allusion to the youth's dependency had provoked their first breach, which had been widened by many an ostentatious forgive- ness on the one hand, and a dumbly-protesting submission on the other. His mother died away from her husband's roof. The old man then sought to obliterate her utterly. She left her boy a little money, and the injunction of his father was, that he was never to touch it. He inherited his taste for music from her, and his father vowed, that if ever he laid hand upon a musical instrument again, he would be disinherited. All these signs of a vehement spiteful antag- onism to reason, the young man might have treated more as his father's misfortune than his own, if he could only have brought himself to acknowledge that such a thing as madness stigmatized his family. But the sentimental mind conceived it as ' monstrous impiety ' to bring this accusation against a parent who did not break windows, or grin to deformity. He behaved toward him as to a reasonable person, and felt the rebellious rancour instead of the pity. Thus sentiment came in the way of pity. By degrees, Sir Purcell transferred all his father's madness to the Fates by whom he was persecuted. There was evidently madness somewhere, as his shuddering human nature told him. It did not offend his sentiment to charge this upon the order of the universe. Against such a wild-hitting madness, or concentrated ire of the superior Powers, Sir Purcell stood up, taking blow upon blow. As organist of Hillford Church, he brushed his garments, and put a polish on his apparel, with an ener- getic humility that looked like unconquerable patience ; as though he had said : " While life is left in me, I will be seen for what I am." We will vary it " For what I think myself." In reality, he fought no battle. He had been dead-beaten from his boyhood. Like the old Spanish Grov- THE TRAGEDY OF SENTIMENT 461 ernor, the walls of whose fortress had been thrown down by an earthquake, and who painted streets to deceive the enemy, he was rendered safe enough by his astuteness, ex- cept against a traitor from within. One who goes on doggedly enduring, doggedly doing his best, must subsist on comfort of a kind that is likely to be black comfort. The mere piping of the musical devil shall not suffice. In Sir Purcell's case, it had long seemed a mag- nanimity to him that he should hold to a life so vindictively scourged, and his comfort was that he had it at his own dis- posal. To know so much, to suffer, and still to refrain, flattered his pride. "The term of my misery is in my hand," he said, softened by the reflection. It is our lowest philosophy. But, when the heart of a man so fashioned is stirred to love a woman, it has a new vital force, new health, and cannot play these solemn pranks. The flesh, and all its fatality, claims him. When Sir Purcell became acquainted with Cor- nelia, he found the very woman his heart desired, or certainly a most admirable picture of her. It was, perhaps, still more to the lady's credit, if she was only striving to be what he was learning to worship. The beneficial change wrought in him, made him enamoured of healthy thinking and doing. Had this, as a result of sharp mental overhauling, sprung from himself, there would have been hope for him. Un- happily, it was dependent on her who inspired it He re- solved that life should be put on a fresh trial in her person ; and expecting that naturally to fail, of which he had always entertained a base conception, he was perforce brought to endow her with unexampled virtues, in order to keep any degree of confidence tolerably steadfast in his mind. The lady accepted the decorations thus bestowed on her, with much grace and willingness. She consented, little aware of her heroism, to shine forth as an ' ideal ; ' and to this he wan- tonly pinned his faith. Alas ! in our world, where all things must move, it becomes, by-and-by, manifest that an ' ideal,' or idol, which you will, has not been gifted with two legs. What is, then, the duty of the worshipper ? To make, as I should say, some compromise between his superstitious rever- ence and his recognition of facts. Cornelia, on her pedestal, could not prefer such a request plainly ; but i* -vould hare 452 EMILIA IN ENGLAND afforded her exceeding gratification, if the man who adored her had quietly taken her up and fixed her in a fresh post, of his own choosing entirely, in the new circles of changeing events. Far from doing that, he appeared to be unaware that they went, with the varying days, through circles, form- ing and reforming. He walked rather as a man down a lengthened corridor, whose light to which he turns is in one favourite corner, visible till he reaches the end. What Cor- nelia was, in the first flaming of his imagination around her, she was always, unaffected by circumstance, to remain. It was very hard. The ' ideal ' did feel the want if not of legs of a certain tolerant allowance for human laws on the part of her worshipper ; but he was remorselessly reveren- tial, both by instinct and of necessity. Women are never quite so mad in sentimentalism as men. We have now looked into the hazy interior of their systems our last halt, I believe, and last examination of machinery, before Emilia quits England. About the time of the pairing of the birds, and subsequent to the Brookfield explosion, Cornelia received a letter from her lover, bearing the tone of a summons. She was to meet him by the decayed sallow the ' fruitless tree,' as he termed it. Startled by this abruptness, her difficulties made her take counsel of her dignity. " He knows that these clandestine meetings degrade me. He is wanting in faith, to require constant assurances. He will not understand my position ! " She remembered the day at Besworth, of which Adela (some- what needlessly, perhaps) had told her ; that it had revealed two of the family, in situations censurable before a gossiping world, however intrinsically blameless. That day had been to the ladies a lesson of deference to opinion. It was true that Cornelia had met her lover since, but she was then unembarrassed. She had now to share in the duties of the household duties abnormal, hideous, incredible. Her in- comprehensible father was absent in town. Daily Wilfrid conducted Adela thither on mysterious business, and then Mrs. Chump was left to Arabella and herself in the lonely house. Numberless things had to be said for the quieting of this creature, who every morning came downstairs with the exclamation that she could no longer endure her state of uncertainty, and was " off to a lawyer." It was useless to THE TRAGEDY OF SENTIMENT 453 attempt the posture of a reply. Words, and energetic words, the woman demanded, not expostulations petitions that she would be respectful to the house before the household. Yes, occasionally (so gross was she ! ) she had to be fed with lies. Arabella and Cornelia heard one another mouthing these dreadful things, with a wretched feeling of contemptuous compassion. The trial was renewed daily, and it was a task, almost a physical task, to hold the woman back from London, till the hour of lunch came. If they kept her away from her bonnet till then they were safe. At this meal they had to drink champagne with her. Dip- lomatic Wilfrid had issued the order, with the object, first, of dazzling her vision ; and secondly, to set the wheels of her brain in swift motion. The effect was marvellous ; and, had it not been for her determination never to drink alone, the miserable ladies might have applauded it. Adela, on the rare days when she was fortunate enough to reach Brookfield in time for dinner, was surprised to hear her sisters exclaim, " Oh, the hatefulness of that champagne ! " She enjoyed it extremely. She, poor thing, had again to go through a round of cabs and confectioners' shops in London. " If they had said, < Oh, the hatefulness of those buns and cold chickens ! ' * she thought to herself. Not objecting to champagne at lunch with any particular vehemence, she was the less unwilling to tell her sisters what she had to do for Wilfrid daily. " Three times a week I go to see Emilia at Lady Gosstre's town-house. Mr. Powys has gone to Italy, and Miss Ford remains, looking, if I can read her, such a temper. On the other days I am taken by Wilfrid to the arcades, or we hire a brougham to drive round the park, for nothing but the chance of seeing that girl an instant. Don't tell me it's to meet Lady Charlotte ! That lovely and obliging person i is certainly not my duty to undeceive. She's now at Storn- ley, and speaks of our affairs to everybody, I dare say. Twice a week Wilfrid oh! quite casually ! calls on Miss Ford, and is gratified, I suppose ; for this is the picture : sits Emilia, one finger in her cheek, and the thumb under her chin, and she keeps looking down so. Opposite Misa Ford, doing some work making lint for patriots, probably. Then Wilfrid, addressing commonplaces to her; and Emilia's father a personage, I assure you! up against the 454 EMILIA IN ENGLAND window, with a violin. I feel a bitter edge on my teeth still ! What do you think he does to please his daughter for one whole hour ? He draws his fingers does nothing else ; she won't let him ; she won't hear a tune up the strings in the most horrible caterwaul, up and down. It is really like a thousand lunatics questioning and answering, and is enough to make you mad ; but there that girl sits, listening. Ex- actly in this attitude so. She scarcely ever looks up. My brother talks, and occasionally steals a glance that way. We passed one whole hour as I have described. In the middle of it, I happened to look at Wilfrid's face, while the violin was wailing down. I fancied I heard the despair of one of those huge masks in a pantomime. I was almost choked." When Adela had related thus much, she had to prevent downright revolt, and spoil her own game, by stating that Wilfrid did not leave the house for his special pleasure, and a word, as to the efforts he was making to see Mr. Pericles, convinced the ladies that his situation was as pitiable as their own. Cornelia refused to obey her lover's mandate, and wrote briefly. She would not condescend to allude to the unutter- able wretchedness afflicting her, but spoke of her duty to her father being foremost in her prayers for strength. Sir Purcell interpreted this as indicating the beginning of their alienation. He chided her gravely in an otherwise pleasant letter. She was wrong to base her whole reply upon the little sentence of reproach, but self-justification was neces- sary to her spirit. Indeed, an involuntary comparison of her two suitors was forced on her, and, dry as was Sir Twicken- ham's mind, she could not but acknowledge that he had be- haved with an extraordinary courtesy, amounting to chivalry, in his suit. On two occasions he had declined to let her be pressed to decide. He came to the house, and went, like an ordinary visitor. She was indebted to him for that splendid luxury of indecision, which so few of the maids of earth enjoy for a lengthened term. The rude shakings given her by Sir Purcell, at a time when she needed all her power of dreaming, to siipport the horror of accumulated facts, was almost resented. " He as much as says he doubts me, when this is what I endure ! " she cried to herself, as Mrs. Chump THE TRAGEDY OF SENTIMENT -1 .">."> ordered her champagne-glass to be filled, with " Now, Cor- nelia, my dear ; if it's bad luck we're in for, there's nothin' cheats ut like champagne," and she had to put the (to her) nauseous bubbles to her lips. Sir Purcell had not been told of her tribulations, and he had not expressed any doubt of her truth; but sentimentalists can read one another with peculiar accuracy through their bewitching gauzes. She read his unwritten doubt, and therefore expected her unwritten misery to be read. So it is when you play at Life ! When you will not go straight, you get into this twisting maze. Now he wrote coldly, and she had to repress a feeling of resentment at that also. She ascribed the changes of his tone fundament- ally to want of faith in her, and absolutely, during the strug- gle she underwent, she by this means somehow strengthened her idea of her own faithfulness. She would have phrased her projected line of conduct thus : " I owe every appearance of assent to my poor father's scheme, that will spare his health. I owe him everything, save the positive sacrifice of my hand." In fact, she meant to do her duty to her father up to the last moment, and then, on the extreme verge, to remember her duty to her lover. But she could not write it down, and tell her lover as much. She knew instinctively that, facing the eyes, it would not look well. Perhaps, at another season, she would have acted and thought with less folly ; but the dull pain of her great uncertainty, and the little stinging whips daily applied to her, exaggerated her tendency to self-decep- tion. " Who has ever had to bear so much ? what slave ? she would exclaim, as a refuge from the edge of his veiled irony. For a slave has, if not selection of what he will eat and drink, the option of rejecting what is distasteful. Cor- nelia had not. She had to act a part every day with Mrs. Chump, while all those she loved, and respected, and clung to, were in the same conspiracy. The consolation of hating, or of despising, her tormentress was denied. The thought that the poor helpless creature had been possibly ruined by them, chastened Cornelia's reflections mightily, and taaghfc her to walk very humbly through the duties of theday. Her powers of endurance were stretched to their utmost A sublime affliction would, as she felt bitterly, have enlarged her soul. This sordid misery narrowed it Why did not 456 EMILIA IN ENGLAND her lover, if his love was passionate, himself cut the knot claim her, and put her to a quick decision ? She conceived that were he to bring on a supreme crisis, her heart would declare itself. But he appeared to be wanting in that form of courage. Does it become a beggar to act such valiant parts ? perhaps he was even then replying from his stuffy lodgings. The Spring was putting out primroses, the first hand- writing of the year, as Sir Purcell wrote to her prettily. Desire for fresh air, and the neighbourhood of his beloved, sent him on a journey down to Hillford. Near the gates of the Hillford station,- he passed Wilfrid and Adela, hurrying to catch the up-train, and received no recognition. His face scarcely changed colour, but the birds on a sudden seemed to pipe far away from him. He asked himself, presently, what were those black circular spots which flew chasing along the meadows and the lighted walks. It was with an effort that he got the landscape close about his eyes, and remembered familiar places. He walked all day, making occupation by directing his steps to divers eminences that gave a view of the Brookfield chimneys. After night-fall he found himself in the firwood, approaching the ( fruitless tree.' He had leaned against it musingly, for a time, when he heard voices, as of a couple confident in their privacy. The footman, Gainsford, was courting a maid of the Tin- ley's, and here, being midway between the two houses, they met. He had to obtain pardon for tardiness, by saying that dinner at Brookfield had been delayed for the return of Mr. Pole. The damsel's questions showed her far advanced in knowledge of affairs at Brookfield, and may account for Laura Tinley's gatherings of latest intelligence concerning those ' odd girls,' as she impudently called the three. "Oh! don't you listen!" was the comment pronounced on Gainsford's stock of information. But, he told nothing signally new. She wished to hear something new and striking, " because," she said, " when I unpin Miss Laura at night, " I'm as likely as not to get a silk dress that ain't been worn more than half-a-dozen times if I manage. When I told her that Mr. Albert, her brother, had dined at your place last Thursday demeaning of himself, I do think there ! I got a pair of silk stockings, not letting her see I knew what it was for, of course! and about Mrs. Dump, THE TRAGEDY OP SENTIMENT 467 Stump ; I can't recollect the woman's name ; and her call- ing of your master a bankrupt, right out, and wanting her money of him, there ! if Miss Laura didn't give me a pair of lavender kid-gloves out of her box ! and I wish you would leave my hands alone, when you know I shouldn't be to silly as to wear them in the dark; and for you, indeed! " But Gainsford persisted, upon which there was fooling. All this was too childish for Sir Purcell to think it necessary to give warning of his presence. They passed, and when they had gone a short way the damsel cried, " Well, that is something," and stopped. " Married in a month ! " she ex- claimed. " And you don't know which one ? " " No," returned Gainsford ; " master said ' one of you ' as they was at dinner, just as I come into the room. He was in jolly spirits, and kept going so: 'What's a month! champagne, Gainsford,' and you should have seen Mrs. not Stump, but Chump. She'll be tipsy to-night, and I shall bust if I have to carry of her upstairs. Well, she is fun ! she don't mind handin' you a five-shilling piece when she's done tender : but I have nearly lost my place two or three time along of that woman. She'd split logs with laughing: no need of beetle and wedges ! 'Och!' she sings out, 'by the piper ! ' and Miss Cornelia sitting there and, ' Ar rah ! ' bother the woman's Irish," (thus Gainsford gave up the effort at imitation, with a spirited Briton's mild contempt for what he could not do) " she pointed out Miss Cornelia and said she was like the tinker's dog : there's the bone he wants himself, and the bone he don't want anybody else to have. Aha ! ain't it good ? " "Oh! the tinker's dog ! won't I remember that! " said the damsel, " she can't be such a fool." "Well, I don't know," Gainsford meditated critically. " She is ; and yet she ain't, if you understand me. What I feel about her is hang it ! she makes ye laugh." Sir Purcell moved from the shadow of the tree as noise- lessly as he could, so that this enamoured couple might not be disturbed. He had already heard more than he quite excused himself for hearing in such a manner, and having decided not to arrest the man and make him relate ctjr what Mr. Pole had spoken that evening at the Brookfield dinner-table, he hurried on his return to town. 458 JT.MTT.TA IN ENGLAND It was not till he had sight of his poor home ; the solitary company of chairs; the sofa looking bony and comfortless as an old female house drudge ; the table with his desk on it; and, through folding-doors, his cold and narrow bed; not till then did the fact of his great loss stand before him, and accuse him of living. He seated himself methodically and wrote to Cornelia. His fancy pictured her now as sharp to every turn of language and fall of periods : and to satisfy his imagined, rigorous critic, he wrote much in the style of a newspaper leading article. No one would have thought that tragic meaning underlay those choice and sounding phrases. On reperusing the composition, he rejected it, but only to produce one of a similar cast. He could not get to nature in his tone. He spoke aloud a little sentence now and then, that had the ring of a despairing tenderness. Nothing of the sort inhabited his written words, wherein a strained philosophy and ironic resignation went on stilts. " I should desire to see you once before I take a step that some have not considered more than commonly serious," came toward the conclusion ; and the idea was toyed with till he signed his name. "A plunge into the deep is of little moment to one who has been stripped of all clothing. Is he not a wretch who stands and shivers still ? " This letter, ending with a short and not imperious, or even urgent, request for an interview, on the morrow by the ' fruitless tree,' he sealed for delivery into Cornelia's hands some hours before the time appointed. He then wrote a clear business letter to his lawyer, and one of studied ambiguity to a cousin on his mother's side. His father's brother, Percival Barrett, to whom the estates had gone, had offered him an annuity of five hundred pounds : " though he had, as his nephew was aware, a large family." Sir Purcell had replied: '' Let me be the first to consider your family," rejecting the benevo- lence. He now addressed his cousin, saying: "What would you think of one who accepts such a gift ? of me, were you to hear that I had bowed my head and extended my hand ? Think this, if ever you hear of it : that I have ac- ceded for the sake of winning the highest prize humanity can bestow: that I certainly would not have done it for aught less than the highest." After that he went to his narrow bed. His determination was to write to his uncle. THE TRAGEDY OF SENTIMENT 459 swallowing bitter pride, and to live a pensioner, if only Cor- nelia came to her tryst, " the last he would ask of her," aa he told her. Once face to face with his beloved, he had no doubt of his power; and this feeling which he knew her to share, made her reluctance to meet him more darkly suspi- cious. As he lay in the little black room, he thought of how she would look when a bride, and of the peerless beauty tower- ing over any shades of earthliness which she would present His heated fancy conjured up every device and charm of sacredness and adoring rapture about that white veiled shape, until her march to the altar assumed the character of a reli- gious procession a sight to awe mankind! And where, when she stood before the minister in her saintly humility, grave and white, and tall where was the man whose heart was now racing for that goal at her right hand ? He felt at the troubled heart and touched two fingers on the rib, mock-quietingly, and smiled. Then with great deliberation he rose, lit a candle, unlocked a case of pocket-pistols, and loaded them : but a second idea coming into his head, he drew the bullet out of one, and lay down again with a luxu- rious speculation on the choice any hand might possibly make of the life-sparing or death-giving of those two weap- ons. In his next half-slumber he was twice startled by a report of fire-arms in a church, when a crowd of veiled women and masked men rushed to the opening, and a woman throwing up the veil from her face knelt to a corpse that she lifted without effort, and weeping, laid it in a grave, where it rested and was at peace, though multitudes hurried over it, and new stars came and went, and the winds were strange with new tongues. The sleeper saw the morning upon that corpse when light struck his eyelids, and he awoke like m man who knew no care. His landlady's little female scrubber was working at the grate in his sitting-room. He had endured many a struggle to prevent service of this nature being done for him by one of the sex at least, to prevent it within his hearing and sight. He called to her to desist ; but she replied that she had her mistress's orders. Thereupon he maintained that the grate did not want scrubbing. The girl took this to be a matter of opinion, not a challenge to controversy, and COB- 4bO EMILIA IN ENGLAND timied her work in silence. Irritated by the noise, but anxious not to seem harsh, he said : " What on earth are you about, when there was no fire there yesterday ? " " There ain't no stuff for a fire now, sir," said she. " I tell you I did not light it." " It's been and lit itself then," she mumbled. " Do you mean to say you found the fire burnt out, when you entered the room this morning ? " She answered that she had found it so, and lots of burnt paper lying about. The symbolism of this fire burnt out, that had warmed and cheered none, oppressed his fancy, and he left the small maid-of-all-work to triumph with black-lead and brushes. She sang out, when she had done : " If you please, sir, missus have had a hamper up from the country, and would you like a country aig, which is quite fresh, and new lay. And missus say, she can't trust the bloaters about here bein' Yarmouth, but there's a soft roe in one she've squeezed ; and am I to stop a water-cress woman, when the last one sold you them, and all the leaves jellied behind 'em, so as no washin' sould save you from swallowin' some, missus say ? " Sir Purcell rolled over on his side. " Is this going to be my epitaph ? " he groaned ; for he was not a man particular in his diet, or exacting in choice of roes, or panting for fresh- ness in an egg. He wondered what his landlady could mean by sending up to him, that morning of all others, to tempt his appetite after her fashion. " I thought I remembered eating nothing but toast in this place ; " he observed to him- self. A grunting answer had to be given to the little maid, " Toast as usual." She appeared satisfied, but returned again, when he was in his bath, to ask whether he had said " No toast to-day ? " " Toast till the day of my death tell your mistress that ! " he replied ; and partly from shame at his unaccountable vehemence, he paused in his sponging, meditated, and chilled. An association of toast with spectral things grew in his mind, when presently the girl's voice was heard : " Please, sir, you did say you'd have toast, or not, this morning ? " It cost him an effort to answer simply, " Yes." That she should continue, " Not sir ? " appeared like per- versity. " No aig ? " was maddening. THE TRAGEDY OF SENTIMENT 401 Well, no ; never inind it this morning," said he. " Not this morning," she repeated. ' Then it will not be till the day of your death, as yon said,' she is thinking that, was the idea running in his brain, and he was half ready to cry out " Stop," and renew his order for toast, that he might seem consecutive. The childishness of the wish made him ask himself what it mattered. " I said ' Not till the day ; ' so, none to-day would mean that I have reached the day." Shivering with the wet on his pallid skin, he thought this over. His landlady had used her discretion, and there was toast on the table. A beam of Spring's morning sunlight illumi- nated the toast-rack. He sat, and ate, and munched the doubt whether " not till " included the final day, or stopped short of it. By this the state of his brain may be conceived. A longing for beauty, and a dark sense of an incapacity tc thoroughly enjoy it, tormented him. He sent for his land- lady's canary, and the ready shrill song of the bird persuaded him that much of the charm of music is wilfully swelled by ourselves, and can be by ourselves withdrawn : that is to say, the great charm and spell of sweet sounds is assisted by th force of our imaginations. What is that force ? the heat and torrent of the blood. When that exists no more to one without hope, for instance what is music or beauty? Intrinsically, they are next to nothing. He argued it out so, and convinced himself of his own delusions, till his hand, being in the sunlight, gave him a pleasant warmth. " That's something we all love," he said, glancing at the blue sky above the roofs. " But there's little enough of it in this climate," he thought, with an eye upon the darker corners of his room. When he had eaten, he sent word to his landlady to make up his week's bill. The week was not at an end, and that good woman appeared before him, astonished, saying : " To be sure, your habits is regular, but there's little items one can't guess at, and how make out a bill, Sir Purcy, and no items ? " He nodded his head. " The country again ? " she asked smilingly. " I am going down there," he said. " And beautiful at this time of the year, it is ! though, fc market gardening, London beats any country I ever knew ; and 462 EMILIA IN ENGLAND if you like creature comforts, I always say, stop in London ! And then the policemen ! who really are the greatest comfort of all to us poor women, and seem sent from above especially to protect our weakness. I do assure you, Sir Purcy, I feel it, and never knew a right-minded woman that did not. And how on earth our grandmothers contrived to get about with- out them ! But there ! people who lived before us do seem like the most wracomf ortable ! When my goodness! we come to think there was some lived before tea ! Why, as I say over almost every cup I drink, it ain't to be realized. It seems almost wicked to say it, Sir Purcy; but it's my opinion there ain't a Christian woman who's not made more of a Christian through her tea. And a man who beats his wife my first question is, ' Do he take his tea regular ? ' For, depend upon it, that man is not a tea-drinker at all." He let her talk away, feeling oddly pleased by this mun- dane chatter, as was she to pour forth her inmost sentiments to a baronet. When she said: "Your fire shall be lighted to-night to welcome you," the man looked up, and was going to request that the trouble might be spared, but he nodded. His ghost saw the burning fire awaiting him. Or how if it sparkled merrily, and he beheld it with his human eyes that night ? His beloved would then have touched him with her hand yea, brought the dead to life ! He jumped to his feet, and dismissed the worthy dame. On both sides of him, * Yes/ and ' No,' seemed pressing like two hostile powers that bat- tled for his body. They shrieked in his ears, plucked at his fingers. He heard them hushing deeply as he went to his pistol-case, and drew forth one he knew not which. CHAPTER LVI AN ADVANCE AND A CHECK ON a wild April morning, Emilia rose from her bed and called to mind a day of the last year's Spring when she had watched the cloud streaming up, and felt that it was the curtain of an unknown glory. But now it wore the aspect AN ADVANCE AND A CHECK of her life itself, with nothing hidden behind those stormy folds, save peace. South-westward she gazed, eyeing eagerly the struggle of twisting vapour ; long flying edges of silver went by, and mounds of faint crimson, and here and there a closing space of blue, swift as a thought of home to a soldier in action. The heavens were like a battle-field. Emilia shut her lips hard, to check an impulse of prayer for Merthyr fighting in Italy : for he was in Italy, and she once more among the Monmouth hills : he was in Italy fight- ing, and she chained here to her miserable promise ! Three days after she had given the promise to Wilfrid, Merthyr left, shaking her hand like any common friend. Georgian r. remained, by his desire, to protect her. Emilia had written to Wilfrid for release, but being no apt letter-writer, and hating the task, she was soon involved by him in a compli- cation of bewildering sentiments, some of which she sup- posed she was bound to feel, while perhaps one or two she did feel, at the summons. The effect was that she lost the true wording of her blunt petition for release : she could no longer put it bluntly. But her heart revolted the more, and gave her sharp eyes to see into his selfishness. The purga- tory of her days with Georgiana, when the latter was kept back from her brother in his peril, spurred Emilia to renew her appeal ; but she found that all she said drew her into unexpected traps and pitfalls. There was only one thing she could say plainly: "I want to go." If she repeated this, Wilfrid was ready with citations from her letters, wherein she had said 'this/ and 'that,' and many other phrases. His epistolary power and skill in arguing his own case were creditable to him. Affected as Emilia was by other sensations, she could not combat the idea strenuously suggested by him, that he had reason to complain of her behaviour. He admitted his special faults, but, by distinctly tracing them to their origin, he complacently hinted the excuse for them. Moreover, and with artistic ability, he painted such a sentimental halo round the 'sacredness of her pledged word,' that Emilia could not resist a supersti- tious notion about it, and about what the breaking of would imply. Georgiana had removed her down to > mouth to be out of his way. A constant flight of letters pursued them both, for Wilfrid was far too clever to allow 464 EMILIA IN ENGLAND letters in his hand-writing to come for one alone of two women shut up in a country-house together. He saw how the letterless one would sit speculating shrewdly and spite- fully; so he was careful to amuse his mystified Dragon, while he drew nearer and nearer to his gold apple. An- other object was, that by getting Georgiana to consent to become in part his confidante, he made it almost a point of honour for her to be secret with Lady Charlotte. At last a morning came with no Brookfield letter for either of them. The letters stopped from that time. It was almost as if a great buzzing had ceased in Emilia's ears, and she now heard her own sensations clearly. To Georgiana's sur- prise, she manifested no apprehension or regret. " Or else," the lady thought, " she wears a mask to me ; " and certainly it was a pale face that Emilia was beginning to wear. At last came April and its wild morning. No little female hypocrisies passed between them when they met ; they shook hands at arm's length by the breakfast-table. Then Emilia said : " I am ready to go to Italy : I will go at once." Georgiana looked straight at her, thinking : " This is a fit of indignation with Wilfrid." She answered : " Italy ! I fancied you had forgotten there was such a country." " I don't forget my country and my friends," said Emilia. " At least, I must ask the ground of so unexpected a reso- lution," was rejoined. " Do you remember what Merthyr wrote in his letter from Arona ? How long it takes to understand the meaning of some words ! He says that I should not follow an impulse that is not the impulse of all my nature myself altogether. Yes ! I know what that means now. And he tells me that my life is worth more than to be bound to the pledge of a silly moment. It is ! He, Georgey, unkind that you are ! he does not distrust me ; but always advises and helps me : Merthyr waits for me. I cannot be instantly ready for every meaning in the world. What I want to do, is to see Wil- frid: if not, I will write to him. I will tell him that I intend to break my promise." A light of unaffected pride shone from the girl's face, as she threw down this gauntlet to sentimentalism. " And if he objects ? " said Georgiana. " If he objects, what can happen ? If he objects by letter, AN ADVANCE AND A CHECK I am gone. I shall not write for permission. I shall writ* what my will is. If I see him, and he objects, I can look into his eyes and say what I think right Why, I have lived like a frozen thing ever since I gave him my word. I have felt at times like a snake hissing at my folly. I think I have felt something like men when they swear." Georgiana's features expressed a slight but perceptible disgust. Emilia continued humbly : " Forgive me. I wish you to know how I hate the word I gave that separates me from Merthyr in my Italy, and makes you dislike your poor Emilia. You do. I have pardoned it, though it was twenty stabs a day." " But, why, if this promise was so hateful to you, did you not break it before ? " asked Georgians " I had not the courage," Emilia stooped her head to con- fess ; " and besides," she added, curiously half-closing her eyelids, as one does to look on a minute object, " I could not see through it before." "If," suggested Georgiana, "you break your word, you release him from his." "No! if he cannot see the difference," cried Emilia, wildly, "then let him keep away from me for ever, and he shall not have the name of friend ! Is there no differ- ence I wish you would let me cry out as they do in Shake- speare, Georgey ! " Emilia laughed to cover her vehemence. " I want something more than our way of talking, to witness that there is such a difference between us. Am I to live here till all my feelings are burnt out, and my very soul is only a spark in a log of old wood ? and to keep him from murdering my countrymen, or flogging the women of Italy ! God knows what those Austrians would make him do. He changes. He would easily become an Austrian. I have heard him once or twice, and if I had shut my eyes, I might have declared an Austrian spoke. I wanted to keep him here, but it is not right that I I should be caged till I scarcely feel my finger-ends, or know that I breathe sensibly as you and others do. I am with Merthyr. That is what I intend to tell him." She smiled softly up to Georgiana's cold eyes, to get a look of forgiveness for her fiery speaking. "So, then, you love my brother ? " said Georgiana. 466 EMILIA IN ENGLAND Emilia could have retorted, " Cruel that you are ! " The pain of having an unripe feeling plucked at without warning, was bitter ; but she repressed any exclamation, in her desire to maintain simple and unsensational relations always with those surrounding her. " He is my friend," she said. " I think of something better than that other word. Oh, that I were a man, to call him my brother-in-arms ! What's a girl's love in return for his giving his money, his heart, and offering his life every day for Italy ? " As soon as Georgiana could put faith in her intention to depart, she gave her a friendly hand and embrace. Two days later they were at Kichford, with Lady Gosstre. The journals were full of the Italian uprising. There had been a collision between the Imperial and patriotic forces, near Brescia, from which the former had retired in some con- fusion. Great things were expected of Piedmont, though many, who had reason to know him, distrusted her king. All Lombardy awaited the signal from Piedmont. Mean- while blood was flowing. In the excitement of her sudden rush from dead monotony to active life, Emilia let some time pass before she wrote to Wilfrid. Her letter was in her hand, when one was brought in to her from him. It ran thus : " I have just returned home, and what is this I hear ? Are you utterly faithless ? Can I not rely on you to keep the word you have solemnly pledged ! Meet me at once. Name a place. I am surrounded by misery and distraction. I will tell you all when we meet. I have trusted that you were firm. Write instantly. I cannot ask you to come here. The house is broken up. There is no putting to paper what has happened. My father lies helpless. Every- thing rests on me. I thought that I could rely on you." Emilia tore up her first letter, and replied : " Come here at once. Or, if you would wish to meet me elsewhere, it shall be where you please : but immediately. If you have heard that I am going to Italy, it is true. I break my promise. I shall hope to have your forgiveness. My heart bleeds for my dear Cornelia, and I am eager to see my sisters, and embrace them, and share their sorrow. If I must not come, tell them I kiss them. Adieu ! " AN ADVANCE AND A CHECK 467 Wilfrid replied : " I will be by Richf ord Park gates to-morrow at a quarter to nine. You speak of your heart. I suppose it is a habit Be careful to put on a cloak or thick shawl ; we have touches of frost. If I cannot amuse you, perhaps the nightingales will. Do you remember those of last year? I wonder whether we shall hear the same ? we shall never hear the same." This iteration, whether cunningly devised or not, had a charm for Emilia's ear. She thought : " I had forgotten all about them." When she was in her bedroom at night, she threw up her window. April was leaning close upon and she had not to wait long before a dusky flutter of low notes, appearing to issue from the great rhododendron bank across the lawn, surprised her. She listened, and another little beginning was heard, timorous, shy, and full of mystery for her. The moon hung over branches, some that showed young buds, some still bare. Presently the long, rich, single notes cut the air, and melted to their glad delicious chuckle. The singer was answered from a farther bough, and again from one. It grew to be a circle of melody round Emilia at the open window. Was it the same as last year's ? The last year's lay in her memory faint and well-nigh unawak- ened. There was likewise a momentary sense of unreality in this still piping peacefulness, while Merthyr stood in a bloody-streaked field, fronting death. And yet the song was sweet. Emilia clasped her arms, shut her eyes, and drank it in. Not to think at all, or even to brood on her sensations, but to rest half animate and let those divine sounds find a way through her blood, was medicine to her. Next day there were numerous visits to the house. Emilia was reserved, and might have been thought sad, but she welcomed Tracy Runningbrook gladly, with " Oh ! my old friend ! " and a tender squeeze of his hand. " True, if you like ; hot, if you like ; but < old ? Tracy. " Yes, because I seem to have got to the other side of you ; I mean, I know you, and am always sure of you," said Emilia. " You don't care for music ; I don't care for poetry, but we're friends, and I am quite certain of you, and think you old friend ' always." And I," said Tracy, better up to the mark by this time, 468 EMILIA IN ENGLAND " I think of you, you dear little woman, that I ought to be grateful to you, for, by heaven ! you give me, every time I see you, the greatest temptation to be a fool and let me prove that I'm not. Altro ! altro ! " " A fool ! " said Emilia caressingly ; showing that his smart insinuation had slipped by her. The tale of Brookfield was told over again by Tracy, and Emilia shuddered, though Merthyr and her country held her heart and imagination active and in suspense, from moment to moment. It helped mainly to discolour the young world to her eyes. She was under the spell of an excitement too keen and quick to be subdued by the sombre terrors of a tragedy enacted in a house that she had known. Brookfield was in the talk of all who came to Eichford. Emilia got the vision of the wretched family seated in the library as usual, when upon midnight they were about to part, and a knock came at the outer door, and two men entered the hall, bearing a lifeless body with a red spot above the heart. She saw Cornelia fall to it. She saw the pale-faced family that had given her shelter, and moaned for lack of a way of help- ing them and comforting them. She reproached herself for feeling her own full physical life so warmly, while others whom she had loved were weeping. It was useless to resist the tide of fresh vitality in her veins, and when her thoughts turned to their main attraction, she was rejoicing at the great strength she felt coming to her gradually. Her face was smooth and impassive : this new joy of strength came on her like the flowing of a sea to a land-locked water. " Poor souls ! " she sighed for her friends, while irrepressi- ble exultation filled her spirit. That afternoon, in the midst of packing and preparations for the journey, at all of which Lady Gosstre smiled with a complacent bewilderment, a card, bearing the name of Miss Laura Tinley, was sent up to Emilia. She had forgotten this person, and asked Lady Gosstre who it was. Arabella's rival presented herself most winningly. For some time, Emilia listened to her, with wonder that a tongue should be so glib on matters of no earthly interest. At last, Laura said in an undertone : " I am the bearer of a message from Mr. Pericles ; do you walk at all in the garden ? " Emilia read her look, and rose. Her thoughts struck back AN ADVANCE AND A CHECK 469 on the creature that she was when she had last seen Mr. Pericles, and again, by contrast, on what she was now! Eager to hear of him, or rather to divine the mystery in her bosom aroused by the unexpected mention of his name, she was soon alone with Laura in the garden. " Oh, those poor Poles ! " Laura began. " You were going to say something of Mr. Pericles/* said Emilia. "Yes, indeed, my dear; but, of course, you hare heard all the details of that dreadful night ? It cannot be called a comfort to us that it enables my brother Albert to come forward in the most disinterested I might venture to say, generous manner, and prove the chivalry of his soul ; still, as things are, we are glad, after such misunderstandings, to prove to that sorely-tried family who are their friends. I you would little think so from their treatment of me I was at school with them. I knew them before they became unin- telligible, though they always had a turn for it To dress well, to be refined, to marry well I understand all that perfectly ; but who could understand them f Not they them- selves, I am certain ! And now penniless ! and not only that, but lawyers ! You know that Mrs. Chump has commenced an action ? no ? Oh, yes ! but I shall have to tell you the whole story." " What is it ? they want money ? " said Emilia. " I will tell you. Our poor gentlemanly organist, whom you knew, was really a baronet's son, and inherited the title." Emilia interrupted her : " Oh, do let me hear about them ! " " Well, my dear, this unfortunate I may call him ' lover,' for if a man does not stamp the truth of his affection with a pistol, what other means has he ? And just a word * romance. I have been sighing for it no one would think so all my life. And who would have thought that these poor Poles should have lived to convince me of the folly ! Oh, delicious humdrum ! there is nothing like it But you are anxious, naturally. Poor Sir Purcell Barrett or may not have been mad, but when he was brought 1 house at Brookfield quite by chance I mean, his body two labouring men found him by a tree- whether you remembered a pollard-willow that stow 470 EMILIA IN ENGLAND white and rotten by the water in the fir-wood: well, as I said, mad or not, no sooner did poor Cornelia see him than she shrieked that she was the cause of his death. He was laid in the hall which I have so often trod! and there Cornelia sat by his poor dead body, and accused Wilfrid and her father of every unkindness. They say that the scene was terrible. Wilfrid but I need not tell you his charac- ter. He flutters from flower to flower, but he has feeling. Now comes the worst of all in one sense ; that is, looking on it as people of the world ; and being in the world, we must take a worldly view occasionally. Mr. Pole you re- member how he behaved once at Besworth: or, no; you were not there, but he used your name. His mania was, as everybody could see, to marry his children grandly. I don't blame him in any way. Still, he was not justified in living beyond his means to that end, speculating rashly, and con- cealing his actual circumstances. Well, Mr. Pericles and he were involved together ; that is, Mr. Pericles " " Is Mr. Pericles near us now ? " said Emilia quickly. " We will come to him," Laura resumed, with the compla- cency of one who saw a goodly portion of the festival she was enjoying still before her. "I was going to say, Mr. Pericles had poor Mr. Pole in his power ; has him, would be the corrector tense. And Wilfrid, as you may have heard, had really grossly insulted him, even to the extent of mal- treating him a poor foreigner rich foreigner, if you like ! but not capable of standing against a strong young man in wrath. However, now there can be little doubt that Wil- frid repents. He had been trying ever since to see Mr. Pericles ; and the very morning of that day, I believe, he saw him and humbled himself to make an apology. This had put Mr. Pole in good spirits, and in the evening he and Mrs. Chump were very fond of their wine after dinner he was heard that very evening to name a day for his union with her ; for that had been quite understood, and he had asked his daughters and got their consent. The sight of Sir Purcell's corpse, and the cries of Cornelia, must have turned him childish. I cannot conceive a situation so har- rowing as that of those poor children hearing their father declare himself an impostor ! a beggar ! a peculator ! He cried, poor unhappy man ! real tears ! The truth was that AN ADVANCE AND A CHECK 471 his nerves suddenly gave way. For, just before only just before, he was smiling and talking largely. He wished to go on his knees to every one of them, and kept telling them of his love the servants all awake and listening'! and more gossiping servants than the Poles always, by the most extraordinary inadvertence, managed to get, you never heard of ! Nothing would stop him from humiliating him- self ! No one paid any attention to Mrs. Chump until she started from her chair. They say that some of the servants who were crying outside, positively were compelled to laugh when they heard her first outbursts. And poor Mr. Pole confessed that he had touched her money. He could not tell her how much. Fancy such a scene, with a dead man in the house ! Imagination almost refuses to conjure it up ! Not to dwell on it too long for, / have never endured such a shock as it has given me Mrs. Chump left the house, and the next thing received from her was a lawyer's letter. Business men say she is not to blame : women may cherish their own opinion. But, oh, Miss Belloni ! is it not terrible ? You are pale." Emilia behind what she felt for her friends, had a dim comprehension of the meaning of their old disgust at Laura, during this narration. But, hearing the word of pity, she did not stop to be critical. "Can you do nothing for them ? " she said abruptly. The thought in Laura's shocked grey eyes was, " They have done little enough for you," i.e., toward making you a lady. " Oh ! " she cried/ ' can you teach me what to do ? I must be extremely delicate, and calculate upon what they would accept from me. For so I hear they used to and may still nourish a what I called silly - not in unkindness hostility to our family - perhaps now natural delicacy may render it difficult for them to ... " In short, to accept an alms from Laura Tmley; so said her pleading look for an interpretation. You know Mr. Pericles," said Emilia, " he can do the mischief can he not ? Stop him." Laura laughed. " One might almost say that you do > know him, Miss Belloni. What is my influence? neither a voice, nor can I play on any instrument 472 EMILIA IN ENGLAND indeed I will do my best my utmost ; only, how even to introduce the subject to him ? Are not you the person ? He speaks of you constantly. He has consulted doctors with regard to your voice, and the only excuse, dear Miss Belloni, for my visit to you to-day, is my desire that any misunderstanding between you may be cleared. Because, I have just heard Miss Belloni will forgive me ! the ori- gin of it ; and tidings coming that you were in the neigh- bourhood, I thought hoped that I might be the means of re-uniting two evidently destined to be of essential ser- vice to one another. And really, life means that, does it not ? " Emilia was becoming more critical of this tone the more she listened. She declared her immediate willingness to meet Mr. Pericles. With which, and Emilia's assurance that she would write, and herself make the appointment, Laura retired, in high glee at the prospect of winning the gratitude of the inscrutable millionaire. It was true that the absence of any rivalry for the possession of the man took much of his sweetness from him. She seemed to be plucking him from the hands of the dead, and half recog- nized that victory over uncontesting rivals claps the laurel- wreath rather rudely upon our heads. Emilia lost no time in running straight to Georgiana, who was busy at her writing-desk. She related what she had just heard, ending breathlessly : " Georgey ! my dear ! will you help them ? " " In what possible way can I do so ? " said Georgiana. " To-morrow night we shall have left England." "But to-day we are here." Emilia pressed a hand to her bosom : " my heart feels hollow, and my friends cry out in it. I cannot let him suffer." She looked into Georgiana's eyes. " Will you not help them? they want money." The lady reddened. "Is it not preposterous to suppose that I can offer them assistance of such a kind ? " " Not you," returned Emilia, sighing ; and in an under- breath, " me will you lend it to me ? Merthyr would. I shall repay it. I cannot tell what fills me with this delight, but I know I am able to repay any sum. Two thousand pounds would help them. I think I think my voice has come back." AN ADVANCE AND A CHECK 478 a Have you tried it ? " said Georgiana, to produce a diver- sion from the other topic. "No; but believe me when I tell you, it must be. I scarcely feel the floor ; no misery touches me. I am only sorry for my friends, not down on the ground with them. Believe me ! And I have been studying all this while. I have not lost an hour. I would accept a part, and step on the boards within a week, and be certain to succeed. I am just as willing to go to the Conservatorio and submit to dis- cipline. Only, dear friend, believe me, that I ask for money now, because I am sure I can repay it. I want to send it immediately, and then, good-bye to England." Georgiana closed her desk. She had been suspicious at first of another sentiment in the background, but was now quite convinced of the simplicity of Emilia's design. She said : " I will tell you exactly how I am placed. I do not know, that under any circumstances, I could have given into your hands so large a sum as this that you ask for. My brother has a fortune; and I have also a little property. When I say my brother has a fortune, he has the remains of one. All that has gone has been devoted to relieve your countrymen, and further the interests he has nearest at heart. What is left to him, I believe, he has now thrown into the gulf. You have heard Lady Charlotte call him a fanatic." Emilia's lip quivered. " You must not blame her for that," Georgiana continued. " Lady Gosstre thinks much the same. The world thinks with them. I love him, and prove my love by trusting him, and wish to prove my love by aiding him, and being always at hand to succour, as I should be now, but that I obeyed his dearest wish in resting here to watch over you. I am his other self. I have taught him to feel that, so that in his devotion to this cause he may follow every impulse he has, and still there is his sister to fall back on. My child ! see what I have been doing. I have been calculating here." Georgiana took a scroll from her desk, and laid it under Emilia's eyes. "I have reckoned our expenses afc> as Turin, and have only consented to take Ladv Gosstre's valet for courier, just to please her. I know that he will make the cost double, and I feel like a miser about money. If Merthyr is ruined, he will require every farthing that I 474 EMILIA IN ENGLAND have for our common subsistence. Now do you understand ? I can hardly put the case more plainly. It is out of my power to do what you ask me to do." Emilia sighed lightly, and seemed not much cast down by the refusal. She perceived that it was necessarily positive, and like all minds framed to resolve to action, there was an instantaneous change of the current of her thoughts in an- other direction. " Then, my darling, my one prayer ! " she said. " Post- pone our going for a week. I will try to get help for them elsewhere." Georgiana was pleased by Emilia's manner of taking the rebuff; but it required an altercation before she consented to this postponement ; she nodded her head finally in anger. CHAPTER LVII CONTAINS A FURTHER ANATOMY OP WILFRID BY the park-gates that evening, Wilfrid received a letter from the hands of Tracy Kunningbrook. It said: "I am not able to see you now. When I tell you that I will see you before I leave England, I insist upon your believing me. I have no head for seeing anybody now. EMILIA" was the simple signature, perused over and over again by this maddened lover, under the flitting gate-lamp, after Tracy had left him. The coldness of Emilia's name so briefly given, concentrated every fire in his heart. What was it but miserable cowardice, he thought, that prevented him from getting the peace poor Barrett had found ? Intoler- able anguish weakened his limbs. He flung himself on a wayside bank, grovelling, to rise again calm and quite ready for society, upon the proper application of the clothes-brush. Indeed, he patted his shoulder and elbow to remove the soil of his short contact with earth, and tried a cigar : but the first taste of the smoke sickened his lips. Then he stood for a moment as a man in a new world. This strange sen- sation of disgust with familiar comforting habits, fixed him CONTAINS A FURTHER ANATOMY OF WILFRID 475 in perplexity, till a rushing of wild thoughts and hopes from brain to heart, heart to brain, gave him insight, and he per- ceived his state, and that for all he held to in our life he was dependent upon another; which is virtually the curse of love, " And he passed along the road," adds the Philosopher, a weaker man, a stronger lover. Not that love should diminish manliness or gains by so doing; but travelling to love by the ways of Sentiment, attaining to the passion bit by bit, does full surely take from us the strength of our nature, as if (which is probable) at every step we paid fee to move forward. Wilfrid had just enough of the coin to pay his footing. He was verily fining hi mselfdown. You are tempted to ask what the value of him will be by the time that he turns out pure metal? I reply, something consider- able, if by great sacrifice he gets to truth gets to that oneness of feeling which is the truthful impulse. At last, he will stand high above them that have not suffered. The rejection of his cigar " This waxes too absurd. At the risk of breaking our partnership for ever, I intervene. My Philosopher's mean- ing is plain, and, as usual, good; but not even I, who have less reason to laugh at him than anybody, can gravely accept the juxtaposition of suffering and cigars. And, moreover, there is a little piece of action in store. Wilfrid had walked half way to Brookfield, when the longing to look upon the Richford chamber-windows stirred so hotly within him that he returned to the gates. He saw Captain Gambier issuing on horseback from under the lamp. The captain remarked that it was a fine night, and prepared to ride off, but Wilfrid requested him to dismount, and his voice had the unmistakeable ring in it by which a man knows that there must be no trifling. The captain leaned forward to look at him before he obeyed the summons. All self- control had abandoned Wilfrid in the rage he felt at Gam- bier's having seen Emilia, and the jealous suspicion that she had failed to keep her appointment for the like reason. " Why do you come here,? " he said, hoarsely. "By Jove! that's an odd question," said the captain, at once taking his ground. "Am I to understand that you've been playing with my sister, as you do with every other woman? 476 EMILIA IN ENGLAND Captain Gambler murmured quietly, "Every other woman? " and smoothed his horse's neck. " They're not so easily played with, my dear fellow. You speak like a youngster." "I am the only protector of my sister's reputation," said Wilfrid, "and, by heaven! if you have cast her over to be the common talk, you shall meet me." The captain turned to his horse, saying, "Oh! Well!" Being mounted, he observed: "My dear Pole, you might have sung out all you had to say. Go to your sister, and if she complains of my behaviour, I'll meet you. Oh, yes ! I'll meet you; I have no objection to excitement. You're in the hands of an infernally clever woman, who does me the honour to wish to see my blood on the carpet, I believe ; but if this is her scheme, it's not worthy of her ability. She began pretty well. She arranged the preliminaries capitally. Why, look here," he relinquished his ordinary drawl; "I'll tell you something, which you may put down in my favour or not just as you like. That woman did her best to compromise your sister with me on board the yacht. I can't tell you how, and won't. Of course, I wouldn't if I could; but I have sense enough to admire a very charming person, and I did the only honourable thing in my power. It's your sister, my good fellow, who gave me my dismissal. We had a little common sense conversa- tion in which she shines. I envy the man that marries her, but she denies me such luck. There ! if you want to shoot me for my share in that transaction, I'll give you your chance : and if you do, my dear Pole, either you must be a tremendous fool, or that woman's ten times cleverer than I thought. You know where to find me. Good night." The captain gave heel to his horse, hearing no more. Adela confirmed to Wilfrid what Gambier had spoken; and that it was she who had given him his dismissal. She called him by his name, 'Augustus, ' in a kindly tone, remark- ing, that Lady Charlotte had persecuted him dreadfully. " Poor Augustus ! his entire reputation for evil is owing to her black paint-brush. There is no man so easily 'hooked,' as Mrs. Bayruffle would say, as he, though he has but eight hundred a year : barely enough to live on. It would have been cruel of me to keep him, for if he is in love, it's with Emilia." CONTAINS A FURTHER ANATOMY OP WILFRID 477 Wilfrid here took upon himself to reproach her for a certain negligence of worldly interests. She laughed and blushed with humorous satisfaction ; and, on second thoughts, he changed his opinion, telling her that he wished he could win his freedom as she had done. "Wilfrid," she said suddenly, "will you persuade Cor- nelia not to wear black?" "Yes, if you wish it," he replied. "You will, positively? Then listen, dear. I don't like the prospect of your alliance with Lady Charlotte." Wilfrid could not repress a despondent shrug. "But you can get released," she cried; and ultimately counselled him : " Mention the name of Lord Eltham before her once, when you are alone. Watch the result. Only, don't be clumsy. But I need not tell you that." For hours he cudgelled his brains to know why she desired Cornelia not to wear black, and when the light broke in on him he laughed like a jolly youth for an instant. The reason why was in a web so complicated, that, to have divined what hung on Cornelia's wearing of black, showed a rare sagacity and perception of character on the little lady's part. As thus : Sir Twickenham Pryme is the most sensitive of men to ridicule and vulgar tattle : he has continued to visit the house, learning by degrees to prefer me, but still too chival- rous to withdraw his claim to Cornelia, notwithstanding that he has seen indications of her not too absolute devotion towards him : I have let him become aware that I * have broken with Captain Gambier (whose income is eight hun- dred a year merely), for the sake of a higher attachment: now, since the catastrophe, he can with ease make it appear to the world that / was his choice from the first, seeing that Cornelia will assuredly make no manner of objection : bat, if she, with foolish sentimental persistence, assumes the garb of sorrow, then Sir Twickenham's ears will tingle; he will retire altogether; he will not dare to place himself in a position which will lend a colour to the gossip, that jilt>