The Heir of Redclyffe Read online

  'Guy, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am you were so teased last night.'

  'Don't think of it!' said he, taken extremely by surprise

  'It was our fault, I could not stop it; I should have kept Charlotte in better order, but they would not let her hear me. I knew it was what you dislike particularly, and I was very sorry.'

  'You--I was--I was. But no matter now. Amy,' he added earnestly, 'may I ask you to walk on with me a little way? I must say something to you.'

  Was this what 'mamma' objected to? Oh no! Amy felt she must stay now, and, in truth, she was glad it was right, though her heart beat fast, fast, faster, as Guy, pulling down a long, trailing branch of Noisette rose, and twisting it in his hand, paused for a few moments, then spoke collectedly, and without hesitation, though with the tremulousness of subdued agitation, looking the while not at her, but straight before him.

  'You ought to be told why your words and looks have such effect on me as to make me behave as I did last night. Shame on me for such conduct! I know its evil, and how preposterous it must make what I have to tell you. I don't know now long it has been, but almost ever since I came here, a feeling has been growing up in me towards you, such as I can never have for any one else.'

  The flame rushed into Amy's cheeks, and no one could have told what she felt, as he paused again, and then went on speaking more quickly, as if his emotion was less under control.

  'If ever there is to be happiness for me on earth, it must be through you; as you, for the last three years, have been all my brightness here. What I feel for you is beyond all power of telling you, Amy! But I know full well all there is against me--I know I am untried, and how can I dare to ask one born to brightness and happiness to share the doom of my family?'

  Amy's impulse was that anything shared with him would be welcome; but the strength of the feeling stifled the power of expression, and she could not utter a word.

  'It seems selfish even to dream of it,' he proceeded, 'yet I must,--I cannot help it. To feel that I had your love to keep me safe, to know that you watched for me, prayed for me, were my own, my Verena,--oh Amy! it would be more joy than I have ever dared to hope for. But mind,' he added, after another brief pause, 'I would not even ask you to answer me now, far less to bind yourself, even if--if it were possible. I know my trial is not come; and were I to render myself, by positive act, unworthy even to think of you, it would be too dreadful to have entangled you, and made you unhappy. No. I speak now, because I ought not to remain here with such feelings unknown to your father and mother.'

  At that moment, close on the other side of the box-tree clump, were heard the wheels of Charles's garden-chair, and Charlotte's voice talking to him, as he made his morning tour round the garden. Amy flew off, like a little bird to its nest, and never stopped till, breathless and crimson, she darted into the dressing room, threw herself on her knees, and with her face hidden in her mother's lap, exclaimed in panting, half-smothered, whispers, which needed all Mrs. Edmonstone's intuition to make them intelligible,--

  '0 mamma, mamma, he says--he says he loves me!'

  Perhaps Mrs. Edmonstone was not so very much surprised; but she had no time to do more than raise and kiss the burning face, and see, at a moment's glance, how bright was the gleam of frightened joy, in the downcast eye and troubled smile; when two knocks, given rapidly, were heard, and almost at the same moment the door opened, and Guy stood before her, his face no less glowing than that which Amy buried again on her mother's knee.

  'Come in, Guy,' said Mrs. Edmonstone, as he stood doubtful for a moment at the door, and there was a sweet smile of proud, joyful affection on her face, conveying even more encouragement than her tone. Amy raised her head, and moved as if to leave the room.

  'Don't go,' he said, earnestly, 'unless you wish it.'

  Amy did not wish it, especially now that she had her mother to save her confusion, and she sat on a footstool, holding her mother's hand, looking up to Guy, whenever she felt bold enough, and hanging down her head when he said what showed how much more highly he prized her than silly little Amy could deserve.

  'You know what I am come to say,' he began, standing by the mantel- shelf, as was his wont in his conferences with Mrs. Edmonstone; and he repeated the same in substance as he had said to Amy in the garden, though with less calmness and coherence, and far more warmth of expression, as if, now that she was protected by her mother's presence, he exercised less force in self-restraint.

  Never was anyone happier than was Mrs. Edmonstone; loving Guy so heartily, seeing the beauty of his character in each word, rejoicing that such affection should be bestowed on her little Amy, exulting in her having won such a heart, and touched and gratified by the free confidence with which both had at once hastened to pour out all to her, not merely as a duty, but in the full ebullition of their warm young love. The only difficulty was to bring herself to speak with prudence becoming her position, whilst she was sympathizing with them as ardently as if she was not older than both of them put together. When Guy spoke of himself as unproved, and undeserving of trust, it was all she could do to keep from declaring there was no one whom she thought so safe.

  'While you go on as you have begun, Guy?'

  'If you tell me to hope! Oh, Mrs. Edmonstone, is it wrong that an earthly incentive to persevere should have power which sometimes seems greater than the true one?'

  'There is the best and strongest ground of all for trusting you,' said she. 'If you spoke keeping right only for Amy's sake, then I might fear; but when she is second, there is confidence indeed.'

  'If speaking were all!' said Guy.

  'There is one thing I ought to say,' she proceeded; 'you know you are very young, and though--though I don't know that I can say so in my own person, a prudent woman would say, that you have seen so little of the world, that you may easily meet a person you would like better than such a quiet little dull thing as your guardian's daughter.'

  The look that he cast on Amy was worth seeing, and then, with a smile, he answered--

  'I am glad you don't say it in your own person.'

  'It is very bold and presumptuous in me to say anything at all in papa's absence' said Mrs. Edmonstone, smiling; 'but I am sure he will think in the same way, that things ought to remain as they are, and that it is our duty not to allow you to be, or to feel otherwise than entirely at liberty.'

  'I dare say it may be right in you,' said Guy, grudgingly. 'However, I must not complain. It is too much that you should not reject me altogether.'

  To all three that space was as bright a gleam of sunshine as ever embellished life, so short as to be free from a single care, a perfectly serenely happy present, the more joyous from having been preceded by vexations, each of the two young things learning that there was love where it was most precious. Guy especially, isolated and lonely as he stood in life, with his fear and mistrust of himself, was now not only allowed to love, and assured beyond his hopes that Amy returned his affection, but found himself thus welcomed by the mother, and gathered into the family where his warm feelings had taken up their abode, while he believed himself regarded only as a guest and a stranger.

  They talked on, with happy silences between, Guy standing all the time with his branch of roses in his hand, and Amy looking up to him, and trying to realize it, and to understand why she was so very, very happy.

  No one thought of time till Charlotte rushed in like a whirlwind, crying--

  'Oh, here you are! We could not think what had become of you. There has Deloraine been at the door these ten minutes, and Charlie sent me to find you, for he says if you are too late for Mrs. Henley's dinner, she will write such an account of you to Philip as you will never get over.'

  Very little of this was heard, there was only the instinctive consternation of being too late. They started up, Guy threw down his roses, caught Amy's hand and pressed it, while she bent down her head, hiding the renewed blush; he dashed out of the room, and up to his own, while Mrs. Edmonstone and Cha
rlotte hurried down. In another second, he was back again, and once more Amy felt the pressure of his hand on hers--

  'Good-bye!' he said; and she whispered another 'Good-bye!' the only words she had spoken.

  One moment more he lingered,--

  'My Verena!' said he; but the hurrying sounds in the hall warned him-- he sprang down to the drawing-room. Even Charles was on the alert, standing, leaning against the table, and looking eager; but Guy had not time to let him speak, he only shook hands, and wished good-bye, with a sort of vehement agitated cordiality, concealed by his haste.

  'Where's Amy?' cried Charlotte. 'Amy! Is not she coming to wish him good-bye?'

  He said something, of which 'up-stairs' was the only audible word; held Mrs. Edmonstone's hand fast, while she said, in a low voice--'You shall hear from papa to-morrow,' then sprung on his horse, and looked up. Amy was at the window, he saw her head bending forward, under its veil of curls, in the midst of the roses round the lattice; their eyes met once more, he gave one beamy smile, then rode off at full speed, with Bustle racing after him, while Amy threw herself on her knees by her bed, and with hands clasped over her face, prayed that she might be thankful enough, and never be unworthy of him.

  Every one wanted to get rid of every one else except Mrs. Edmonstone; for all but Charlotte guessed at the state of the case, and even she perceived that something was going on. Lady Eveleen was in a state of great curiosity; but she had mercy, she knew that they must tell each other before it came to her turn, and very good-naturedly she invited Charlotte to come into the garden with her, and kept her out of the way by a full account of her last fancy ball, given with so much spirit and humour that Charlotte could not help attending.

  Charles and Laura gained little by this kind manoeuvre, for their mother was gone up again to Amy, and they could only make a few conjectures. Charles nursed his right hand, and asked Laura how hers felt? She looked up from her work, to which she had begun to apply herself diligently, and gazed at him inquiringly, as if to see whether he intended anything.

  'For my part,' he added, 'I certainly thought he meant to carry off the hands of some of the family.'

  'I suppose we shall soon hear it explained,' said Laura, quietly.

  'Soon! If I had an many available 1egs as you, would I wait for other people's soon?'

  'I should think she had rather be left to mamma,' said Laura, going on with her work.

  'Then you do think there is something in it?' said Charles, peering up in her face; but he saw he was teasing her, recollected that she had long seemed out of spirits, and forbore to say any more. He was, however, too impatient to remain longer quiet, and presently Laura saw him adjusting his crutches.

  'O Charlie! I am sure it will only be troublesome.'

  'I am going to my own room,' said Charles, hopping off. 'I presume you don't wish to forbid that.'

  His room had a door into the dressing-room, so that it was an excellent place for discovering all from which they did not wish to exclude him, and he did not believe he should be unwelcome; for though he might pretend it was all fun and curiosity, he heartily loved his little Amy.

  The tap of his crutches, and the slow motion with which he raised himself from step to step, was heard, and Amy, who was leaning against her mother, started up, exclaiming--

  '0 mamma, here comes Charlie! May I tell him? I am sure I can't meet him without.'

  'I suspect he has guessed it already,' said Mrs. Edmonstone, going to open the door, just as he reached the head of the stairs, and then leaving them.

  'Well, Amy,' said he, looking full at her carnation cheeks, 'are you prepared to see me turn lead-coloured, and fall into convulsions, like the sister with the spine complaint?'

  '0 Charlie! You know it. But how?'

  Amy was helping him to the sofa, laid him down, and sat by him on the old footstool; he put his arm round her neck, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  'Well, Amy,' I give you joy, my small woman,' said he, talking the more nonsense because of the fullness in his throat; 'and I hope you give me credit for amazing self-denial in so doing.'

  '0 Charlie--dear Charlie!' and she kissed him, she could not blush more, poor little thing, for she had already reached her utmost capability of redness--'it is no such thing.'

  'No such thing? What has turned you into a turkey-cock all at once or what made him nearly squeeze off my unfortunate fingers? No such thing, indeed!'

  'I mean--I mean, it is not that. We are so very young, and I am so silly.'

  'Is that his reason?'

  'You must make me so much better and wiser. Oh, if I could but be good enough!'

  For that matter, I don't think any one else would be good enough to take care of such a silly little thing. But what is the that, that it is, or is not?'

  'Nothing now, only when we are older. At least, you know papa has not heard it.'

  'Provided my father gives his consent, as the Irish young lady added to all her responses through the marriage service. But tell me all--all you like, I mean--for you will have lovers' secrets now, Amy.'

  Mrs. Edmonstone had, meantime, gone down to Laura. Poor Laura, as soon as her brother had left the room, she allowed the fixed composure of her face to relax into a restless, harassed, almost miserable expression, and walked up and down with agitated steps.

  '0 wealth, wealth!'--her lips formed the words, without uttering them-- 'what cruel differences it makes! All smooth here! Young, not to be trusted, with strange reserves, discreditable connections,--that family,--that fearful temper, showing itself even to her! All will be overlooked! Papa will be delighted, I know he will! And how is it with us? Proved, noble, superior, owned as such by all, as Philip is, yet, for that want of hateful money, he would be spurned. And. for this--for this--the love that has grown up with our lives must be crushed down and hidden--our life is wearing out in wearying self- watching!'

  The lock of the door turned, and Laura had resumed her ordinary expression before it opened, and her mother came in: but there was anything but calmness beneath, for the pang of self-reproach had come-- 'Was it thus that she prepared to hear these tidings of her sister?'

  'Well, Laura,' began Mrs. Edmonstone, with the eager smile of one bringing delightful news, and sure of sympathy.

  'It is so, then?' said Laura. 'Dear, dear, little Amy! I hope--' and her eyes filled with tears; but she had learnt to dread any outbreak of feeling, conquered it in a minute, and said--

  'What has happened? How does it stand?'

  'It stands, at least as far as I can say without papa, as the dear Guy very rightly and wisely wished it to stand. There is no positive engagement, they are both too young; but he thought it was not right to remain here without letting us know his sentiments towards her.'

  A pang shot through Laura; but it was but for a moment. Guy might doubt where Philip need never do so. Her mother went on,--

  'Their frankness and confidence are most beautiful. We know dear little Amy could not help it; but there was something very sweet, very noble, in his way of telling all.'

  Another pang for Laura. But no! it was only poverty that was to blame. Philip would speak as plainly if his prospects were as fair.

  'Oh, I hope it will do well,' said she.

  'It must,--it will!' cried Mrs. Edmonstone, giving way to her joyful enthusiasm of affection. 'It is nonsense to doubt, knowing him as we do. There is not a man in the world with whom I could be so happy to trust her.'

  Laura could not hear Guy set above all men in the world, and she remembered Philip's warning to her, two years ago.

  'There is much that is very good and very delightful about him,' she said, hesitatingly.

  'You are thinking of the Morville temper,' said her mother; 'but I am not afraid of it. A naturally hot temper, controlled like his by strong religious principle, is far safer than a cool easy one, without the principle.'

  Laura thought this going too far, but she felt some compensation due to Guy, and acknowled
ged how strongly he was actuated by principle. However--and it was well for her--they could not talk long, for Eveleen and Charlotte were approaching, and she hastily asked what was to be done about telling Eva, who could not fail to guess something.

  'We must tell her, and make her promise absolute secrecy,' said Mrs. Edmonstone. 'I will speak to her myself; but I must wait till I have seen papa. There is no doubt of what he will say, but we have been taking quite liberties enough in his absence.'