The Heir of Redclyffe Read online

  Mary took great pains to amuse Charles, always walking to see him in the worst weather, when she thought other visitors likely to fall, and chatting with him as if she was the idlest person in the world, though the quantity she did at home and in the parish would be too amazing to be recorded. Spirited and decided, without superfluous fears and fineries, she had a firm, robust figure, and a rosy, good-natured face, with a manner that, though perfectly feminine, had in it an air of strength and determination.

  Hollywell was a hamlet, two miles from the parish church of East-hill, and Mary had thus seen very little of the Edmonstone's guest, having only been introduced to him after church on Sunday. The pleasure on which Charles chiefly reckoned for that evening was the talking him over with her when the ladies came in from the dining-room. The Miss Harpers, with his sisters, gathered round the piano, and Mrs. Edmonstone sat at Charles's feet, while Mary knitted and talked.

  'So you get on well with him?'

  'He is one of those people who are never in the way, and yet you never can forgot their presence,' said Mrs. Edmonstone.

  'His manners are quite the pink of courtesy,' said Mary.

  'Like his grandfather's,' said Mrs. Edmonstone; 'that old-school deference and attention is very chivalrous, and sits prettily and quaintly on his high spirits and animation; I hope it will not wear off.'

  'A vain hope,' said Charles. 'At present he is like that German myth, Kaspar Hauser, who lived till twenty in a cellar. It is lucky for mamma that, in his green state, he is courtly instead of bearish.'

  'Lucky for you, too, Charlie; he spoils you finely.'

  'He has the rare perfection of letting me know my own mind. I never knew what it was to have my own way before.'

  'Is that your complaint, Charlie? What next?' said Mary.

  'So you think I have my way, do you, Mary? That is all envy, you see, and very much misplaced. Could you guess what a conflict it is every time I am helped up that mountain of a staircase, or the slope of my sofa is altered? Last time Philip stayed here, every step cost an argument, till at last, through sheer exhaustion, I left myself a dead weight on his hands, to be carried up by main strength. And after all, he is such a great, strong fellow, that I am afraid he did not mind it; so next time I crutched myself down alone, and I hope that did provoke him.'

  'Sir Guy is so kind that I am ashamed,' said Mrs. Edmonstone. 'It seems as if we had brought him for the sole purpose of waiting on Charles.'

  'Half his heart is in his horse,' said Charles. 'Never had man such delight in the "brute creation."'

  'They have been his chief playfellows,' said Mrs. Edmonstone. 'The chief of his time was spent in wandering in the woods or on the beach, watching them and their ways.'

  'I fairly dreamt of that Elysium of his last night,' said Charles: 'a swamp half frozen on a winter's night, full of wild ducks. Here, Charlotte, come and tell Mary the roll of Guy's pets.'

  Charlotte began. 'There was the sea-gull, and the hedgehog, and the fox, and the badger, and the jay, and the monkey, that he bought because it was dying, and cured it, only it died the next winter, and a toad, and a raven, and a squirrel, and--'

  'That will do, Charlotte.'

  'Oh! but Mary has not heard the names of all his dogs. And Mary, he has cured Bustle of hunting my Puss. We held them up to each other, and Puss hissed horribly, but Bustle did not mind it a bit; and the other day, when Charles tried to set him at her, he would not take the least notice.'

  'Now, Charlotte,' said Charles, waving his hand, with a provoking mock politeness, 'have the goodness to return to your friends.

  Tea over, Laura proposed the game of definitions. 'You know it. Philip,' said she, 'you taught us.'

  'Yes I learnt it of your sisters, Thorndale,' said Philip.

  '0 pray let us have it. It must be charming!' exclaimed Miss Harper, on this recommendation.

  'Definitions!' said Charles, contemptuously. 'Dr. Johnson must be the hand for them.'

  'They are just the definitions not to be found in Johnson,' said Mr. Thorndale. 'Our standing specimen is adversity, which may be differently explained according to your taste, as "a toad with a precious jewel in its head," or "the test of friendship."'

  'The spirit of words,' said Guy, looking eager and interested.

  'Well, we'll try,' said Charles, 'though I can't say it sounds to me promising. Come, Maurice, define an Irishman.'

  'No, no, don't let us be personal,' said Laura; 'I had thought of the word "happiness". We are each to write a definition on a slip of paper, then compare them.'

  The game was carried on with great spirit for more than an hour. It was hard to say, which made most fun, Maurice, Charles, or Guy; the last no longer a spectator, but an active contributor to the sport. When the break-up came, Mary and Amabel were standing over the table together, collecting the scattered papers, and observing that it had been very good fun. 'Some so characteristic,' said Amy, 'such as Maurice's definition of happiness, - a row at Dublin.'

  'Some were very deep, though,' said Mary; 'if it is not treason, I should like to make out whose that other was of happiness.'

  'You mean this,' said Amy: '"Gleams from a brighter world, too soon eclipsed or forfeited." I thought it was Philip's, but it is Sir Guy's writing. How very sad! I should not like to think so. And he was so merry all the time! This is his, too, I see; this one about riches being the freight for which the traveller is responsible.'

  'There is a great deal of character in them,' said Mary. 'I should not have wondered at any of us, penniless people, philosophizing in the fox and grapes style, but, for him, and at his age--'

  'He has been brought up so as to make the theory of wisdom come early,' said Philip, who was nearer than she thought.

  'Is that intended for disparagement?' she asked quickly.

  I think very highly of him; he has a great deal of sense and right feeling,' was Philip's sedate answer; and he turned away to say some last words to Mr. Thorndale.

  The Rosses were the last to depart, Mary in cloak and clogs, while Mr. Edmonstone lamented that it was in vain to offer the carriage; and Mary laughed, and thanked, and said the walk home with Papa was the greatest of treats in the frost and star-light.

  'Don't I pity you, who always go out to dinner in a carriage!' were her last words to Laura.

  'Well, Guy,' said Charlotte, 'how do you like it?'

  'Very much, indeed. It was very pleasant.'

  'You are getting into the fairy ring,' said Laura, smiling.

  'Ay' he said, smiling too; 'but it does not turn to tinsel. Would it if I saw more of it?' and he looked at Mrs, Edmonstone.

  'It would be no compliment to ourselves to say so,' she answered.

  'I suppose tinsel or gold depends on the using,' said he, thoughtfully; 'there are some lumps of solid gold among those papers, I am sure, one, in particular, about a trifle. May I see that again? I mean--

  'Little things On little wings Bear little souls to heaven.'

  'Oh! that was only a quotation,' said Amy, turning over the definitions again with him, and laughing at some of the most amusing; while, in the mean time, Philip went to help Laura, who was putting some books away in the ante-room.

  'Yes, Laura,' he said, 'he has thought, mind, and soul; he is no mere rattle.'

  'No indeed. Who could help seeing his superiority over Maurice?'

  'If only he does not pervert his gifts, and if it is not all talk. I don't like such excess of openness about his feelings; it is too like talking for talking's sake.'

  'Mamma says it in the transparency of youthfulness. You know he has never been at school; so his thoughts come out in security of sympathy, without fear of being laughed at. But it is very late. Good night.'

  The frost turned to rain the next morning, and the torrents streamed against the window, seeming to have a kind of attraction for Philip and Guy, who stood watching them.

  Guy wondered if the floods would be out at Redclyffe and his cousins were interested by his
description of the sudden, angry rush of the mountain streams, eddying fiercely along, bearing with them tree and rock, while the valleys became lakes, and the little mounds islets; and the trees looked strangely out of proportion when only their branches were visible. 'Oh! a great flood is famous fun,' said he.

  'Surely,' said Philip, 'I have heard a legend of your being nearly drowned in some flood.

  'Yes,' said Guy, 'I had a tolerable ducking.'

  'Oh, tell us about it!' said Amy.

  'Ay! I have a curiosity to hear a personal experience of drowning,' said Charles. 'Come, begin at the beginning.'

  'I was standing watching the tremendous force of the stream, when I saw an unhappy old ram floating along, bleating so piteously, and making such absurd, helpless struggles, that I could not help pulling off my coat and jumping in after him. It was very foolish, for the stream was too strong--I was two years younger then. Moreover, the beast was very heavy, and not at all grateful for any kind intentions, and I found myself sailing off to the sea, with the prospect of a good many rocks before long; but just then an old tree stretched out its friendly arms through the water; it stopped the sheep, and I caught hold of the branches, and managed to scramble up, while my friend got entangled in them with his wool'--

  'Omne quum Proteus pecus egit altos Visere montes,'

  quoted Philip.

  'Ovium et summa, genus haesit ulmo,'

  added Guy.

  'Ovium,' exclaimed Philip, with a face of horror. 'Don't you know that 0 in Ovis is short? Do anything but take liberties with Horace!'

  'Get out of the tree first, Guy,' said Charles, 'for at present your history seems likely to end with a long ohone!'

  'Well, Triton--not Proteus--came to the rescue at last,' said Guy, laughing; 'I could not stir, and the tree bent so frightfully with the current that I expected every minute we should all go together; so I had nothing for it but to halloo as loud as I could. No one heard but Triton, the old Newfoundland dog, who presently came swimming up, so eager to help, poor fellow, that I thought he would have throttled me, or hurt himself in the branches. I took off my handkerchief and threw it to him, telling him to take it to Arnaud, who I knew would understand it as a signal of distress.'

  'Did he? How long had you to wait?'

  'I don't know--it seemed long enough before a most welcome boat appeared, with some men in it, and Triton in an agony. They would never have found me but for him, for my voice was gone; indeed the next thing I remember was lying on the grass in the park, and Markham saying, 'Well, sir, if you do wish to throw away your life, let it be for something better worth saving than Farmer Holt's vicious old ram!'

  'In the language of the great Mr. Toots,' said Charles 'I am afraid you got very wet.'

  'Were you the worse for it?' said Amy.

  'Not in the least. I was so glad to hear it was Holt's! for you must know that I had behaved very ill to Farmer Holt. I had been very angry at his beating our old hound, for, as he thought, worrying his sheep; not that Dart ever did, though.

  'And was the ram saved?'

  'Yes, and next time I saw it, it nearly knocked me down.'

  'Would you do it again?' said Philip.

  'I don't know.'

  'I hope you had a medal from the Humane Society,' said Charles.

  'That would have been more proper for Triton.'

  'Yours should have been an ovation,' said Charles, cutting the o absurdly short, and looking at Philip.

  Laura saw that the spirit of teasing was strong in Charles this morning and suspected that he wanted to stir up what he called the deadly feud, and she hastened to change the conversation by saying, 'You quite impressed Guy with your translation of Fra Cristoforo.'

  'Indeed I must thank you for recommending the book,' said Guy; 'how beautiful it is!'

  'I am glad you entered into it,' said Philip; 'it has every quality that a fiction ought to have.'

  'I never read anything equal to the repentance of the nameless man.'

  'Is he your favourite character?' said Philip, looking at him attentively.

  'Oh no--of course not--though he is so grand that one thinks most about him, but no one can be cared about as much as Lucia.'

  'Lucia! She never struck me as more than a well-painted peasant girl,' said Philip.

  'Oh!' cried Guy, indignantly; then, controlling himself, he continued: 'She pretends to no more than she is, but she shows the beauty of goodness in itself in a--a--wonderful way. And think of the power of those words of hers over that gloomy, desperate man.'

  'Your sympathy with the Innominato again,' said Philip. Every subject seemed to excite Guy to a dangerous extent, as Laura thought, and she turned to Philip to ask if he would not read to them again.

  'I brought this book on purpose,' said Philip. 'I wished to read you a description of that print from Raffaelle--you know it--the Madonna di San Sisto?'

  'The one you brought to show us?' said Amy, 'with the two little angels?'

  'Yes, here is the description,' and he began to read--

  'Dwell on the form of the Child, more than human in grandeur, seated on the arms of the Blessed Virgin as on an august throne. Note the tokens of divine grace, His ardent eyes, what a spirit, what a countenance is His; yet His very resemblance to His mother denotes sufficiently that He is of us and takes care for us. Beneath are two figures adoring, each in their own manner. On one side is a pontiff, on the other a virgin each a most sweet and solemn example, the one of aged, the other of maidenly piety and reverence. Between, are two winged boys, evidently presenting a wonderful pattern of childlike piety. Their eyes, indeed, are not turned towards the Virgin, but both in face and gesture, they show how careless of themselves they are in the presence of God.'

  All were struck by the description. Guy did not speak at first, but the solemn expression of his face showed how he felt its power and reverence. Philip asked if they would like to hear more, and Charles assented: Amy worked, Laura went on with her perspective, and Guy sat by her side, making concentric circles with her compasses, or when she wanted them he tormented her parallel ruler, or cut the pencils, never letting his fingers rest except at some high or deep passage, or when some interesting discussion arose. All were surprised when luncheon time arrived; Charles held out his hand for the book; it was given with a slight smile, and he exclaimed' Latin! I thought you were translating. Is it your own property?'

  'Yes.'

  'Is it very tough? I would read it, if any one would read it with me.'

  'Do you mean me?' said Guy; 'I should like it very much, but you have seen how little Latin I know.'

  'That is the very thing,' said Charles; 'that Ovis of yours was music; I would have made you a Knight of the Golden Fleece on the spot. Tutors I could get by shoals, but a fellow-dunce is inestimable.'

  'It is a bargain, then,' said Guy; 'if Philip has done with the book and will lend it to us.'

  The luncheon bell rang, and they all adjourned to the dining-room. Mr. Edmonstone came in when luncheon was nearly over, rejoicing that his letters were done, but then he looked disconsolately from the window, and pitied the weather. 'Nothing for it but billiards. People might say it was nonsense to have a billiard-table in such a house, but for his part he found there was no getting through a wet day without them. Philip must beat him as usual, and Guy might have one of the young ladies to make a fourth.'

  'Thank you,' said Guy, 'but I don't play.'

  'Not play--eh?' Well, we will teach you in the spinning of a ball, and I'll have my little Amy to help me against you and Philip.'

  'No, thank you,' repeated Guy, colouring, 'I am under a promise.'

  'Ha! Eh? What? Your grandfather? He could see no harm in such play as this. For nothing, you understand. You did not suppose I meant anything else?'

  '0 no, of course not,' eagerly replied Guy; 'but it is impossible for me to play, thank you. I have promised never even to look on at a game at billiards.'

  'Ah, poor man, he had too much reas
on.' uttered Mr. Edmonstone to himself, but catching a warning look from his wife, he became suddenly silent. Guy, meanwhile, sat looking lost in sad thoughts, till, rousing himself, he exclaimed, 'Don't let me prevent you.'

  Mr. Edmonstone needed but little persuasion, and carried Philip off to the billiard-table in the front hall.

  '0, I am so glad!' cried Charlotte, who had, within the last week, learnt Guy's value as a playfellow. 'Now you will never go to those stupid billiards, but I shall have you always, every rainy day. Come and have a real good game at ball on the stairs.'

  She already had hold of his hand, and would have dragged him off at once, had he not waited to help Charles back to his sofa; and in the mean time she tried in vain to persuade her more constant playmate, Amabel, to join the game. Poor little Amy regretted the being obliged to refuse, as she listened to the merry sounds and bouncing balls, sighing more than once at having turned into a grown-up young lady; while Philip observed to Laura, who was officiating as billiard-marker, that Guy was still a mere boy.

  The fates favoured Amy at last for about half after three, the billiards were interrupted, and Philip, pronouncing the rain to be almost over, invited Guy to take a walk, and they set out in a very gray wet mist, while Charlotte and Amy commenced a vigorous game at battledore and shuttle-cock.