Books: Modern Broods
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Charlotte Mary Yonge >> Modern Broods
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"You are generous, Miss Prescott. You understand! But the world!
It was public."
"Never mind the world. You see what sensible people think."
"But, indeed, Miss Prescott, I cannot leave you to suppose I am only
actuated by the fact of that awkward situation. Of course that would
never have been if I did not deeply, entirely love your sister. It
has only precipitated matters. I entreat of you to give her to me,
as one who is--who is devoted to her! If my station is inferior I
will work--"
"That is not the point. Vera is too young for such things. What
does your father say?"
"My father sees that I am right."
"I see what that means," said Magdalen, smiling. "But where is he?
I should like to talk to him."
Mr. Delrio, pretty well knowing what was going on, was found
endeavouring to distract his mind by sketching the Goyle. He and
Magdalen walked up and down the drive together, perfectly agreeing
that it would be senseless cruelty to permit an early marriage
between these two young people, and that it was a pity there should
be an engagement; but this could hardly be prevented, since Mr.
Delrio could only give advice, and leave a self-supporting worthy son
to judge for himself; but the elder sister and the trustee could
stipulate for delay till Vera should be of age.
So Hubert was called, and acquiesced, cheerfully observing that he
trusted that four years would make him able to render Vera's life an
easy and pleasant one; and after heartily thanking both Miss Prescott
and his father, he went off to rejoice the heart of the maiden, who
was sitting under the pear-tree, watching with anxious eyes.
CHAPTER XV--BROODS ASTRAY
"But ill for him who, bettering not with time,
Corrupts the strength of Heaven-descended will,
And ever weaker grows through acted crime,
Or seeming genial venial fault."
- TENNYSON.
"Man Friday hope piccaniny live well--bring her buckra fish from
sea!" Such was the greeting from Lord Rotherwood to Thekla when the
whole party walked over in time for tea on the lawn, before church at
Clipstone, as he presented her with a facsimile oyster which he had
hunted up in a sweet shop, making an absurd bow and scrape.
Poor Thekla coloured, and mumbled a shy, "Thank you, my--my--" having
had a lecture from Vera on treating a marquis with over familiarity
and it was left to Primrose to ask where Friday learnt nigger
language. "By nature, Missy buckra," he responded; "all same nigger
everywhere." And he repeated his bow so drolly that Primrose's laugh
carried Thekla's along with it, as Lady Phyllis walked up with,
"Come, father, you are wanted to congratulate."
"Eh! Am I? So they have perpetrated it, have they? More's the pity
is what I should say in the Palace of Truth; but the maiden has
landed a better fish than she knows--that is, if she have landed
him."
"There! take care, don't be tiresome, Papa!" admonished Lady Phyllis,
drawing him on, when he met Vera with a courtly manner, and, "I hope
I see you recovered, Miss Prescott, and able to rejoice in the
pleasant consequences of your adventure."
Vera blushed, and looked very pretty and modest, making not much
answer as she retreated among her contemporaries to show them her
ring, a hoop of pearls, which Wilfred insisted were Roman pearls,
fishes' eyes, most appropriate; but Flapsy felt immeasurably older
than Wilfred to-day, and able to despise his teasing, though Hubert
Delrio was not present, and indeed Wilfred was not disposed to bestow
much of his attention upon her, having much more inclination to beset
his cousin, Lady Phyllis, who surely ought to perceive that he had
attained at least the same height as his brother Jasper, and could,
in his absence, pose as the young man of the household.
Phyllis had not much to say to him, nor after the first to Vera,
though she duly admired the ring so exultantly shown, and accepted
the assurance that Hubert was the dearest fellow in the world. But
there was no getting any condolence out of her upon the misery of
having to wait four whole years. She said, "It was a very good
thing! There was her cousin Gillian, who had insisted on waiting
three years to finish her education."
"Oh, but dear Hubert likes me as I am," simpered Vera.
"You might wish that he should find more in you to like. Gillian,"
said Phyllis, coming up to her and Agatha, "I want you to assure Vera
that four years is not such a great trial in waiting."
"It is what I have been trying to persuade her," said Agatha; "she is
hardly seventeen."
"And I would not have been married at seventeen for anything," said
Gillian to the pouting Vera. "I want to be more worth having."
Vera did not like it, she had heard the like at home, and she fell
back upon Valetta, while the others walked on. "Poor little Flapsy!"
said Agatha, "I do hope this engagement may make more of a woman of
her."
"My father was very much struck by Mr. Delrio," said Phyllis, "both
as artist and personally."
"You must be glad of the time for putting her up to his level," said
Gillian.
"Do you think such things are to be done?" asked Agatha.
"Yes," said Phyllis stoutly. "You may not make her able to be a
Senior Wrangler--(Oh you are Oxford!)--or capable of it, like this
Gillyflower; but you can get the stuff into her that makes a sound
sensible wife."
Gillian caught a little hopeless sigh of "CAN," and answered it with,
"When all this effervescence is blown off, then will be the time for
working at the substance, and she may be all the better wife--
especially for the artist temperament, if she is of the homely sort."
"How angry she would be if she heard you say so!" returned Agatha.
"Yet certainly I do feel relieved that wifehood is to be my poor
Flapsy's portion, for she is not of the sort that can stand alone and
make her own way."
"There will always be plenty of such women in the world," said
Gillian.
"So much the better for the world," retorted Phyllis, who had never
shown any symptoms of exclusive devotion to any one of the other sex,
except her father.
One thing Agatha wanted to know, and dared not ask, namely, what
impression Vera had made in the Kittiwake and what Hubert had said
about her; for she and Paula had begun to remark that, lover as he
was, not a word about her heroism had escaped him. And it was as
well that she did not hear what the extra plain spoken Primrose did
not spare the boasting Thekla. "Cousin Rotherwood and Fly both say
they can't think how Mr. Delrio got on with such a silly little
hysterical goose upon his hands; and that it is a foolish romantic
unlucky notion that he ought to be engaged to her. I think Mamma
will tell Miss Prescott so."
The Kittiwake, having arrived three days later than had been
expected, there had been an amount of revolution in the general
arrangements. The break up of the High School was to be on an early
day of the next week. It had become a much more extensive and public
matter than in the days of Valetta and Maura, though these were not
so very long ago, and there was a great day of exhibitions and
speeches to the parents and neighbourhood generally. Two ladies had
been secured for the purpose, Elizabeth Merrifield and Miss Arthuret,
and the former arrived on the Saturday afternoon, but as the
Rotherwood party almost overflowed Clipstone, she was transferred to
Miss Mohun.
After the death of their parents, about three years previously, Susan
and Elizabeth had gone to live at Coalham, and to be useful to their
brother David's parish; Susan betaking herself to the poor, and
Bessie finding herself specially available in the various forms of
improvement undertaken by ladies in modern days. To her own
surprise, and her sister's discomfiture, her talent as a public
speaker had become developed. With a little assistance from her
sister-in-law Agnes's unwilling stage experience, and entreaties, not
easily to be withstood, came from various quarters that she would
come and advocate the good cause.
Of course she was ever welcome at Clipstone, and she walked up
thither with General Mohun, arriving just after the others from the
Goyle; and in the general confusion of greetings, and the Babel of
cousinly tongues, there were no introductions nor naming of names.
Bessie declared herself delighted with the chance of seeing Lady
Ivinghoe, whom she considered more to realise the beauty of women
than any one she had hitherto beheld, and the fair face had not lost
its simplicity, but rather gained in loveliness by the sweetness of
early motherhood, as she and Phyllis sat by Mysie, regaling her with
tales of what they regarded as the remarkable precocity of the infant
Claude, reluctantly left to his grandmother.
"But where's Dolores?" asked Bessie. "I miss her among the swarm of
mice!"
"Dolores is at Vale Leston," answered Gillian. "She has been a long
time making up her mind to go there, to Gerald's home; and now she is
there, they will not let her go till some birthday is over."
"Uncle Felix's!" whispered Franceska to Mysie. "You know it was dear
Gerald's place. She had never seen it."
Another voice was now raised, asking, "What had become of Miss
Arthuret?"
"She only comes down on Monday," said Bessie. "Just in time for the
meeting. She is too valuable to come for more than one meeting."
"But who is she?"
"Arthurine Arthuret? She is a girl, or rather woman, who has some
property at Stokesley. In fact, she is one of those magnets that
seem to attract inheritance without effort--like the Hapsburgs,
though happily she makes a most beneficent, though, sometimes,
original use of them."
"Is not that very dangerous?" said Aunt Lily.
"The first came to her early, and coming into it very young, and
overflowing with new ideas, she began rather grotesquely; but she has
tamed down a good deal since, and really has done an immense deal of
good in finding employment for people, making improvements and the
like, though she is Sam's pet aversion, a tremendous Liberal, almost
a Socialist. They are so like cat and dog that Susan and I were
really glad to be away from Stokesley, especially at election times;
but altogether she is an admirable person."
Lady Merrifield thought she detected a start of Miss Prescott at the
name Stokesley, and that her eyes looked anxiously at the speaker.
Bessie was not of the sandy part of the family. Was the unattractive
schoolboy, once seen, like his sisters? All that was observable was
startling similitudes to her own children, though in them the
elements of the handsome dark Mohun generally predominated.
But by and by, in a quiet moment, Bessie suddenly asked, "Did you say
her name was Magdalen?"
Lady Merrifield laughed. "Four years MAY do a good deal at that time
of life," she said. "I suppose no time ever so changes--changes--
what shall I say?--eyes--views--characters. Only constancy in
absence is the dangerous thing. There are distinguished examples of-
-of the mischief of being constant without knowing what one is
constant to. Virulent constancy, as Mrs. Malaprop has it."
Magdalen thanked and smiled. Perhaps there was a certain virulent
constancy in a remote corner of her heart which had been revived by a
certain indescribable look in the eyes and contour of Bessie
Merrifield.
And Bessie herself, while sitting under the verandah with Lady
Merrifield, while all the others were walking down to embark Lord and
Lady Ivinghoe in the yacht, suddenly repeated, "Did you say that her
name was Magdalen?"
"Yes; I saw it startled you, my dear."
"It revived an old, old story. I do not know whether there was
anything in it. Who or what is she, Aunt Lily? I only know her as
the sister of the girl that the Ivinghoes picked up."
"She is the owner of a little property at Arnscombe, and has taken
home her four young half-sisters to live with her, after having
slaved for them as a governess till she came into this inheritance.
She is an excellent person."
"Ah! Was her house at Filsted?"
"I am not sure. Yes, I think the young ones were at school there.
You think--"
"I feel certain. May I tell you, Aunt Lily? Some of the others
cannot bear to mention my poor Hal; but to me the worst of the sting
is gone, since I know he repented."
"My dear, I should be very glad to hear. Your father and mother
never mention your brother, and we were away at the time."
"Poor Hal! I am afraid there was a weakness in him. He never had
that determination that carried all the others on. He never could
get through an examination, and my father put him into a bank at
Filsted. By and by, after some years, came a letter telling my
father he was gambling very seriously, getting into temptation, and
engaging himself to an attorney's daughter. It was while I was
living with grandmamma, and he used sometimes to look in on me, and
talk to me about this Magdalen. Once he showed me her photograph and
I thought I knew her face again. But my father went off, very angry.
I have always feared he found poor Hal on the verge of tampering with
the bank money, but he never would say a word. He broke everything
up, put an end to the engagement if there was one, and sent Hal off
to John and George, who had just got their farm in Manitoba, and were
getting on by dint of hard work."
"They have done very well, have they not?"
"Yes, by working and living harder than any day labourer at
Stokesley. Hal could not stand it, and--and I'm afraid the boys were
not very merciful to him, poor fellow, and he got something to do in
Winnipeg. There he fell in with a speculator called Golding, they
all did in fact; he was a plausible man, whom they all liked, and
used to put up at his house when they took waggons in with their
produce. He had a daughter, and Johnnie got engaged to her, or
thought he was. They all were persuaded to put money into a horrid
building speculation,--Henry, what he had brought out, the other two
what they had realised. Well, suddenly it all ended. They were all
gone, Golding, daughter, Hal and all--yes, all--the money the other
boys had put in the thing, off to the States, as we suppose! No
trace ever found."
"Really no trace?"
"None! The poor boys lost all they had, and were obliged to begin
over again."
"And has really nothing been heard of this unfortunate Hal?"
"There is one thing that does give me a hope. There did come to
Stokesley a letter from a Brisbane bank, addressed to J. and G.
Merrifield, to the care of Rear-Admiral Merrifield, and in it were
bank bills up to the value of what the boys had been robbed of, about
two hundred and fifty pounds. Poor Henry must have repented, and
wished to make restitution."
"Was there no name, no clue?"
"None at all. We know no more."
"But was there no inquiry made at Brisbane?"
"It was when my father was very ill. The parcel was not opened at
first. I have been always sorry he never heard of it; but after all
there was no asking of forgiveness, nor anything that could be
answered. The boys got it with the tidings of our dear father's
death. John came home to see about things, George stayed to look
after his Stokesley. They were well over their troubles by that
time, and they gave the restored money to David for his churches."
"And no more was done, not even by David?" said Lady Merrifield,
thinking over what she had heard from Geraldine Grinstead, and how
the Underwoods would have accepted such a token from their lost
sheep.
"David did write to Brisbane to the bank, but there never was any
answer. There is no knowing how it might have been, if any one had
gone out and done his best; but you see we were all much taken up
with home duties and cares, and I am afraid we have not dwelt enough
upon our poor boy, and he had much against him. The discipline from
my dear father, that all the elders responded to with a sort of loyal
exultation, only frightened him and made him shifty. They despised
him, and I do not think any of us were as kind to him as we ought to
have been; though on the whole he liked me the best, for he cared for
books and quiet pursuits, such as all laughed at, except David. I
wish he could have seen more of David."
"Did your mother hear of this ray of hope?"
"Susan thought it best not to tell her. We used to hear her
murmuring his name among all ours in her prayers, Susie, Sam, Hal,
Bessie, and so on; but she never was herself enough to understand,
and they thought it might only stir her up to expect to see him. Oh,
Aunt Lily, I don't think you--any of you--would have gone on so; but
you are all much more affectionate and demonstrative than our branch
of the family."
"Ah, my dear, I am sure there was a pang in your mother's heart that
she never durst mention," said Lady Merrifield, her imagination
dwelling in terror on her Wilfred, the one child in whom she could
not help detecting the weakness of character of his unhappy cousin.
"Depend upon it, Bessie, her prayers were hovering round him all the
time, and bringing that act of restitution, though she was not
allowed to hear of it."
"I had not thought of that," said Bessie, in a low tone, "though I
think David has. I have heard his voice choke over an intercession
for the absent."
"Think of it now, my dear, and do not let habitual reserve hinder you
from speaking of it to Susan and David, though most likely they have
the habit already. Who knows what united prayer may do with Him who
deviseth means to bring home His banished?"
Steps returning, Bessie wiped away her tears in haste, actually the
first she had shed for the lost Hal, though there was a heartache too
deep for tears.
CHAPTER XVI--THE REGIMENT OF WOMEN
"And happier than the merriest games
Is the joy of our new and nobler aims."
F. R. HAVERGAL.
Miss Mohun and Miss Merrifield encountered Miss Prescott and Agatha
among a perfect herd of cycles, making Bessie laugh over the
recollections of the horror caused at Stokesley by the arrival of
Arthurine Arthuret on a tricycle twelve years previously.
The place was the Town Hall, the High School having proved too small
for the number of the intended audience, and Lord Rotherwood having
been captured, in spite of the Kittiwake being pronounced ready to
sail, and all the younger passengers being actually on board,
entertaining a party from Clipstone. There he sat enthroned on the
platform, with portraits of himself, his Elizabethan ancestor, and
the Prince of Wales overhead, and, in propria persona on either side,
the Mayor of Rockstone, Captain Henderson, and a sprinkling of the
committee, Jane, of course, being one; while in the space beneath was
a sea of hats, more or less beflowered and befeathered.
Lord Rotherwood began by complaining of an act of piracy! After
being exposed to a tempest and forced to put in for supplies, here he
was captured, and called upon to distribute prizes! He perceived
that it was a new act of aggression on the part of the ladies,
proving to what lengths they were coming. Tyrants they had always
been, but to find them wreckers to boot was a novelty. However,
prizes were the natural sequence of a maritime exploit, and he was
happy to distribute them to the maidens about to start on the voyage
of life, hoping that these dainty logbooks would prove a stimulus and
a compass to steer by even into unexplored seas, such as he believed
the better-informed ladies were about to describe to them.
Rockstone was used to its Marquis's speeches, and always enjoyed
them; and he handed the prize-books to the recipients with a shake of
the hand, and a word or two of congratulation appropriate to each,
especially when he knew their names; and then he declared that they
were about to hear what education was good for, much better than from
himself, from such noted examples as Miss Arthuret and Miss
Merrifield, better known to them as Mesa. Wherewith he waved forward
Miss Arthuret, a slight, youthful-looking lady, fashionably attired,
and made his escape with rapid foot and hasty nods, almost furtively,
while the audience were clapping her.
She spoke with voice and utterance notably superior to his well-known
halting periods, scarcely saved by long training and use from being a
stutter. The female population eagerly listened, while she painted
in vivid colours the aim of education, in raising the status of
women, and extending their spheres not only of influence in the
occult manner which had hitherto been their way of working through
others, but in an open manner, which compelled attention; and she
dwelt on certain brilliant achievements of women, and of others which
stood before them, and towards which their education, passing out of
the old grooves, was preparing them to take their place among men,
and temper their harshness and indifference to suffering with the
laws of mercy and humanity, speaking with an authority and equality
such as should ensure attention, no longer in home and nursery
whispering alone, but with open face asserting and claiming justice
for the weakest.
It was a powerful and effective speech; and Agatha's eye lighted with
enthusiasm, as did those of several others of the elder scholars and
younger teachers, as these high aims were unfolded to them.
Then followed Elizabeth Merrifield, not contradictory, but
recognising what wide fields had been opened to womanhood, dwelling
on such being the work of Christianity, which had always tended to
repress the power of brute animal strength and jealousy, and to give
preponderance to the force of character and the just influence of
sweet homely affection. Exceptional flashes, even in heathen lands,
and still more under the Divine guidance of the Israelites, showed
what women were capable of; and ever since a woman had been the
chosen instrument of the mystery of the Incarnation, the Church, the
chosen emblem of the union of humanity with her Lord, had gradually
purified and exalted the sex by training them through the duties of
mercy, of wifehood and motherhood, to be capable of undertaking and
fulfilling higher and more extensive tasks, always by the appointment
and with the help of Him who had increased their outside powers, for
the sake of the weaker ones of His flock. What might, by His will,
in the government and politics of the country, be put into their
hands, no one could tell; but it was right to be prepared for it, by
extending their intellectual ability and knowledge of the past, as
well as of the laws of physical nature--all, in short, that modern
education aimed at opening young minds to pursue with growing
faculties. This was what made her rejoice in the studies here
followed with good success, as the prizes testified so pleasantly;
and she trusted that the cultivation, which here went on so
prosperously, was leading--if she might use old well-accustomed
words--to the advancement of God's glory, the good of His Church,
aye! and to the safety, honour, and welfare of our Sovereign and her
dominions.
The words brought tears of feeling into the eyes of some; but Jane
Mohun could not help observing, "Ah! I was afraid you were going to
hold up to us the example of the ants and bees, where the old maids
do all the working and fighting and governing! Don't make Gillian
regret that she is falling away from the spinsterhood."
"Come, Aunt Jane, Bessie never did make it the praise of spinsters.
I am sure married women can do as much as spinsters, and have more
weight," said Gillian, facing round gallantly, and winning the
approval of her aunt and of Bessie. There was no doubt but that
since her engagement she had been much quieter and less opinionative.
With what different sensations the same occasion may be attended! To
Bessie Merrifield, the primary object was, as ever, woman's work,
especially her own, for the Church; and the actual business absorbed
her. In spite of her evenings' talk to her Aunt Lilias, and the sad
and painful recollections it had aroused, still her only look at
Magdalen Prescott's face was one half of curiosity half of sorrow, as
of the object of the brief calf-love of one of many brothers, and who
had been now lost sight of, with the passing wonder whether, if the
affection had survived and been encouraged, it might have led him to
better things.
While Magdalen felt the poignant renewal of the one romance of a
lifetime, as she caught tones, watched little gestures and recognised
those indescribable hereditary similarities which more and more bore
in upon her the fraternal connection of the bright earnest woman with
the lively pleasant young man who had brought the attraction of a
higher tone of manners and cultivation into the country town. No
more had been heard of him since his promise to write, a promise that
had been only once remembered, so that she had tried to take refuge
in the supposition, unlikely as it was, that her stepmother had
confiscated his letters. All was a blank since that last stolen
kiss; and the wonder whether she could by any means discover anything
further from Lady Merrifield or Gillian, so occupied her that she
hardly heard the tenor of the two speeches, and did not observe
Agatha's glowing cheeks and burning eyes, which might have told her
that this was one of the moments which direct the current of life.
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