Chapter 86
He would fain have waited to rivet his chains before manifesting them, but he knew Essie too well to expect her to keep the interview a secret; and he had no time to lose if, as he intended, though he had not told her so, he was to take her to j.a.pan with him.
So he stormed the castle without delay, walked to Kencroft with the strawberry gatherers, found the Colonel superintending the watering of his garden, and, with effrontery of which Essie was unconscious, led her up, and announced their mutual love, as though secure of an ardent welcome.
He did, mayhap, expect to surprise something of the kind out of his slowly-moving uncle, but the only answer was a strongly accentuated "Indeed! I thought I had told you both that I would have none of this foolery. Esther, I am ashamed of you. Go in directly."
The girl repaired to her own room to weep floods of tears over her father's anger, and the disobedience that made itself apparent as soon as she was beyond the spell of that specious tongue. There were a few fears too for his disappointment; but when her mother came up in great displeasure, the first words were--
"O, mamma, I could not help it!"
"You could not prevent his accosting you, but you might have prevented his giving all this trouble to papa. You know we should never allow it."
"Indeed I only said if!"
"You had no right to say anything. When a young lady knows a man is not to be encouraged, she should say nothing to give him an advantage. You could never expect us to let you go to a barbarous place at the other end of the world with a man of as good as no religion at all."
"He goes to church," said Essie, too simple to look beyond.
"Only here, to please his mother. My dear, you must put this out of your head. Even if he were very different, we should never let you marry a first cousin, and he knows it. It was very wrong in him to have spoken to you."
"Please don't let him do it again," said Esther, faintly.
"That's right, my dear," with a kiss of forgiveness. "I am sure you are too good a girl really to care for him."
"I wish he would not care for me," sighed poor Essie, wearily. "He always was so kind, and now they are in trouble I couldn't vex him."
"Oh, my dear, young men get over things of this sort half a dozen times in their lives."
Essie was not delighted with this mode of consolation, and when her mother tenderly smoothed back her hair, and bade her bathe her face and dress for dinner, she clung to her and said--
"Don't let me see him again."
It was a wholesome dread, which Mrs. Brownlow encouraged, for both she and her husband were annoyed and perplexed by Robert's cool reception of their refusal. He quietly declared that he could allow for their prejudices, and that it was merely a matter of time, and he was provokingly calm and secure, showing neither anger nor disappointment.
He did not argue, but having once shown that his salary warranted his offer, that the climate was excellent, and that European civilisation prevailed, he treated his uncle and
His mother was as much annoyed as they were, all the more because her sister-in-law could hardly credit her perfect innocence of Robert's intentions, and was vexed at her wish to ascertain Esther's feelings.
This was not easy! the poor child was so unhappy and shamefaced, so shocked at her involuntary disobedience, and so grieved at the pain she had given. If Robert had been set before her with full consent of friends, she would have let her whole heart go out to him, loved him, and trusted him for ever, treating whatever opinions were unlike hers as manly idiosyncrasies beyond her power to fathom. But she was no Lydia Languish to need opposition as a stimulus. It rather gave her tender and dutiful spirit a sense of shame, terror, and disobedience; and she thankfully accepted the mandate that sent her on a visit to her married sister for as long as Bobus should remain at Belforest.
He did not show himself downcast, but was quietly a.s.sured that he should win her at last, only smiling at the useless precaution, and declaring himself willing to wait, and make a home for her.
But this matter had not tended to make his mother more at ease in her enforced stay at Belforest, which was becoming a kind of gilded prison.
CHAPTER x.x.xI. -- SLACK TIDE.
If...
Thou hide thine eyes and make thy peevish moan Over some broken reed of earth beneath, Some darling of blind fancy dead and gone.
Keble.
There is such a thing as slack tide in the affairs of men, when a crisis seems as if it would never come, and all things stagnate. The Law Courts had as yet not concerned themselves about the will, vacation time had come and all was at a standstill, nor could any steps be taken for Lucas's exchange till it was certain into what part of India Sir Philip Cameron was going. In the meantime his regiment had gone into camp, and he could not get away until the middle of September, and then only for a few days. Arriving very late on a Friday night, he saw n.o.body but his mother over his supper, and thought her looking very tired. When he met her in the morning, there was the same weary, hara.s.sed countenance, there were worn marks round the dark wistful eyes, and the hair, whitened at Schwarenbach, did not look as incongruous with the face as..h.i.therto.
No one else except Barbara had come down to prayers, so Jock's first inquiry was for Armine.
"He is pretty well," said his mother; "but he is apt to be late. He gets overtired between his beloved parish work and his reading with Bobus."
"He is lucky to get such a coach," said Jock. "Bob taught me more mathematics in a week than I had learnt in seven years before."
"He is terribly accurate," said Babie.
"Which Armie does not appreciate?" said Jock.
"I'm afraid not," said his mother. "They do worry each other a good deal, and this Infanta most of all, I'm afraid."
"O no, mother," said Babie. "Only it is hard for poor Armie to have two taskmasters."
"What! the Reverend Petronella continues in the ascendant?"
Bobus here entered, with a face that lightened, as did everyone's, at sight of Lucas.
"Good morning. Ah! Jock! I didn't sit up, for I had had a long day out on the moors; we kept the birds nearer home for you. There are plenty, but Grimes says he has heard shots towards River Hollow, and thinks some one must have been trespa.s.sing there."
"Have you heard anything of Elvira? apropos to River Hollow," said his mother.
"Yes," said Jock. "One of our fellows has been on a moor not far from where she was astonis.h.i.+ng the natives, conjointly with Lady Anne Macnalty. There were bets which of three men she may be engaged to."
"Pending which," said his mother, "I suppose poor Allen will continue to hover on the wings of the Petrel?"
"And send home mournful madrigals by the ream," said Bobus. "Never was petrel so tuneful a bird!"
"For shame, Bobus; I never meant you to see them!"
"'Twas quite involuntary! I have trouble enough with my own pupil's effusions. I leave him a bit of Latin composition, and what do I find but an endless doggerel ballad on What's his name?--who hid under his father's staircase as a beggar, eating the dogs' meat, while his afflicted family were searching for him in vain;--his favourite example."
"St. Alexis," said Babie; "he was asked to versify it."
"As a wholesome incentive to filial duty and industry," said Bobus.
"Does the Parsoness mean to have it sung in the school?"
"It might be less dangerous than 'the fox went out one moons.h.i.+ny night,'" said their mother, anxious to turn the conversation. "Mr.
Parsons brought Mr. Todd of Wrexham in to see the school just as the children were singing the final catastrophe when the old farmer 'shot the old fox right through the head.' He was so horrified that he declared the schools should never have a penny of his while they taught such murder and heresy."
"Served them right," said Jock, "for spoiling that picture of domestic felicity when 'the little ones picked the bones, oh!' How many guns shall we be, Bobus?"
"Only three. My uncle has a touch of gout, the Monk has got a tutors.h.i.+p, Joe has gone back to his s.h.i.+p, but the mighty Bob has a week's leave, and does not mean a bird to survive the change of owners."