Effie Adelaide Rowlands

“ It had been a repeated story of the misery of life under the same roof with Polly that, ending in a flood of passionate tears, had driven Winifred, like a child, to Hubert for comfort, and in less than sixty seconds the words were spoken, the link tied, and Polly was lost to him forever! The marriage had followed swiftly on this. Again it had been Winnie’s work.
“Take me away,” was her perpetual cry. “Oh! Hubert, take me away. I am so unhappy here. Why must we wait for anything? Oh! I don’t want a grand marriage. I only want peace and happiness and you!” ”

“ Love to some natures is borne as lightly, has as little value as a thistledown floating on the wind; it has the sparkle of a new jewel, the passing radiance of a summer day, to fade with the setting sun, and to come again when another day is born. But with other natures love comes but once, and comes to stay; pain, sorrow, age, separation, even death itself, have no power to dispossess such a love of its dwelling-place in natures such as these.
And it was in this fashion that love had come by stealth as it were into the heart of Caroline Graniger. ”

“ Of course, I would rather be helped by Hubert than by anyone else, but I don’t see the necessity of being pitied by anybody. I am strong, and if we must be poor I will slave and slave, and give mother everything she needs by my own exertions. If we all go weeping and whining we shall be a nice, dull lot! I intend to show Hubert, and all the world,” said rebellious, angry, sore-hearted little Polly, “that I am as happy now, and as independent, as I ever was, and he and all the rest can just keep their pity for themselves!” ”

“ I have a theory, you know, Violet, that sympathy can do far more than punishment. If Betty sees me unhappy when she is naughty, it makes her wretched; that is just how I was with daddy. Ah! well, if I had no slaps in those old days, I have plenty now!"
"I don't think you have much to grumble at," said Violet Lancing.
Camilla looked up at her and frowned slightly, then she smiled.
"Let us get it over," she said. "I can see that you have come here to scold to-day."
"Horace has been waiting to hear from you as you promised," said Mrs. Horace, stiffly. ”

“ And the flood of nonsense would flow on till Polly had succeeded in winning a smile from her mother’s wan, sad face, and then the girl was content.
“I must make her happy again. I must—I must!” Polly would say, to herself at night, when she lay awake in the small room adjoining her mother’s. “How I wish I were big and strong, like Mr. Ambleton. One can command so much when one is big, but when one is small, and a girl, too—well, there is not much one can do but hope and pray, and pray and hope!” ”

“ The look that flashed into the other woman's face was a revelation to her.
"So happy," she said. "Oh, Caroline, it is all the beginning over again, only better, truer, and, please God, more lasting! Caroline, I love him. He is so young, so beautiful, so full of poetry, he makes life quite different! Oh, I love him, and I never thought I should love any one again after Ned."
Caroline turned away; her lips quivered.
"Then we who care for you must be content," she said. There was a bitter and yet a sad note in her voice.
Cuthbert Baynhurst's wife stood and looked at her. ”

“ Pennington’s worn face had a flush on it, a flush and a look that was akin to anger.
“I confess I do not understand you, Polly,” she was saying, and her tone was fretful in the extreme. “No one has been more severe than you have been on the faults of others. When you have been so pleased, you have accused your sisters of great lack of consideration, of selfishness and many other disagreeable things; and now, when it is your turn to act differently, you take an attitude which I am sure neither Christina nor Winifred would have adopted. I am both surprised and hurt with you!” ”

“ This thought brought a frown. The more she realized that Rupert Haverford had the right to dominate her the more she chafed at her position.
In truth, at times it seemed to her as if she had passed merely from one bondage—from one form of dependence to another. This bondage was splendid enough—she was surrounded with every possible thing she wanted or fancied; the magnificence of Haverford's settlement and gifts to her was still the theme for comment and amazement—but, splendid as it all was, it was still a bondage to Camilla. ”

“ Valentine began, but the other went rushing into speech.
“We married—put the blame on whom you will—we married; yes, but my heart was never given in marriage. I had given it long before. Have you ever seen Polly?” he queried, suddenly. “It is Polly I love—Polly I have loved from the first!”
“Take care, man!” Valentine said, in a stifled sort of way. By what chance did this thing come to him now?
“Oh! I do no harm by saying this to you,” Hubert said, half recklessly. “You are the sort of friend one trusts to death. Yes, it is Polly I have loved, and yet I married Winnie. ”

“ I thought you really disliked Sammy Broxbourne. You used to be always running him down, I remember."
"Oh! it's Sammy you object to, is it?" said Camilla. "My dear, dear soul, I do assure you there wasn't a creature about this morning! That is why I enjoyed the ride. We flew through the Park as if we had been a couple of birds."
"You have such a heap of people that you can go about with," said Mrs. Brenton, half impatiently; "why choose the one man that is likely to do you harm?"
"Oh, you know that is all rubbish, Agnes!" Mrs. Lancing said a little impatiently in her turn. ”

“ After a moment of silent reproach from Winifred, Polly broke forth into speech again.
“Oh, how I hate Mondays! How I loathe Mondays! [Pg 7] How I wish one could skip every Monday that ever comes!”
“Tuesdays would be just the same,” said Winifred, with her superior smile.
“There ought to be no beginning to the week at all. What good does it serve? Why can’t we run straight along in one unbroken line, I should like to know? There must be something vicious about a Monday. Look what a bad effect it has on all of us.” ”

“ Camilla heaved a sigh of relief.
"I breathe again," she said; "sit down and let me look at you. Well, you are better, I think; you have a nice little bit of colour, but you must get much, much fatter. Are the chickies asleep? Dear child, I must congratulate you! You are a marvellous person. We have never had such peace in the house as we have had since you have been here—have we, Dennis? And you are such a child yourself! How is this sort of thing done? I suppose it comes naturally to you."
"I am so glad you are satisfied with me," Caroline said. ”

“ Then Valentine went on, hurriedly. “I love your sister, Polly, Lady Wentworth, and I am happy to tell you she consents to be my wife.”
Christina’s lips were very thin. For an instant she could not speak, then she turned and left the room.
“I congratulate you both,” she said, as she went, but her tone was so cold, so strangely hard, that her mother looked pained.
“Poor Chrissie,” she said, wistfully, “she does not mean to be cold; but her sorrow is so new—too new, perhaps, to let her find happiness anywhere.” ”

“ She recognized a great debt of gratitude to Agnes Brenton, but for Camilla she felt something deeper than gratitude.
In this phase of awakened emotions she would naturally have turned to some outlet for her feelings, even if she had drifted into touch with the most ordinary, the most commonplace of individuals; but thrust, as she had been, suddenly into the stirring atmosphere of life as it was lived in Camilla Lancing's household, and hemmed about by the beguiling influences of an absolutely fascinating personality, Caroline at once lost her heart. ”

“ Christina looked after his retreating figure with an expression on her face that was not wholly anger. There was a touch of something like pity in her look—the pity [Pg 141] was for herself. She was, in truth, far from being easily accustomed to the fact that already her power over her husband was gone. Such a realization was too humiliating for her to grasp all at once. She had made such a thorough conquest of Mark Wentworth at the beginning that she may be forgiven for imagining her sovereignty would be perpetual. ”

“ Caroline said nothing. She had no reason to care one way or another about Mrs. Baynhurst, but it was impossible for her to withhold her pity in such an hour as this; because she knew, none better, the hopelessness of the mother's passionate love for her second child, and because it had been a creed with Octavia Baynhurst to sneer at womanly weakness, and suffering; to deny almost scornfully the terrors of death. ”

“ Winnie’s visit had upset Mrs. Pennington very much. Matrimony had enforced all Winnie’s little peculiarities.
Mrs. Pennington had had no intention of reproaching her daughter, and, indeed, on the contrary, she had shown a pleasure and eagerness to see Winnie again. Mothers have a trick of forgetting and forgiving where others would be less amenable.
But Winnie did nothing to minister to the sorrow that reigned in her mother’s heart. She was cold, unsympathetic and self-centered.
Polly caught her mother shedding bitter tears after Winnie had gone, and the girl’s heart had ached with a new ache. ”

“ Haverford said slowly, when he had spoken of his disappointment, of the breakdown of his hopes. "I was so fond of those people. I counted so surely on their faith in me, in their real affection. Money is a very destructive thing, Mrs. Lancing! I will stake my existence that there is not a man or a woman who had not a good thought for me in the old days. And now there is not one who would not enjoy flinging a brick at me."
Camilla did not speak for a moment.
"I think I understand," softly; then she said, "But I don't believe I can give you sympathy, Mr. Haverford. ”

“ I hope my darling mother does not think me unkind; it is wrong to run away just because one is tired and troubled, and yet—yet, oh! it is nice to be away! to be safe from things that hurt one to hear and see. Mother would forgive me if she knew, and I shall go back to her cured, quite cured,” Polly assured herself, severely; and she shed more tears as she said this, for being quite cured meant sweeping even the remembrance of Valentine out of her thoughts, and that was something that would take long to accomplish, if indeed it was ever accomplished at all. ”

“ If he had been another sort of man, well!" she laughed, "there might have been four inches of steel for Cuthbert, and perhaps a bullet through my brain."
Caroline turned and looked at her coldly.
"How can you speak so foolishly. What do you know of his heart? You have never understood him; even when you had the life of his life in your hands you sneered at him as poor and paltry. Make a mockery of him to others if you will, but not to those who know what sort of man he is. It is pitiful; it makes your wrong so much, much worse."
Camilla looked almost frightened. ”

“ To raise his hat and extend his hand was a natural impulse, and as Polly rather grudgingly put her small fingers into his for one second, Val had a distinct pang at his heart, for in truth the girl had a wan, sorrowful look, and was unlike the little flashing-eyed spitfire who had received him that bygone day, as it was possible for anyone to be. ”

“ Rupert comes first—before any one; you are second; and Agnes a good third."
"You are talking nonsense," said Caroline, in her calmest way; "the children love you more and more every day."
Camilla smiled, frowned, and sighed.
"Well, it may be so; at all events, I don't mind Rupert, or you, or Agnes. It would have killed me if the old man had taken them, and turned them against me, as he certainly would have done. Oh, Caroline, that reminds me; has Betty chosen something for Violet Lancing's girl? If not, let her send this bangle. I mean to be kind to that girl for Horace's sake." ”

“ Given two natures so honest, so proud and yet so open to influence as Kestridge’s and Polly’s, it will be seen at a glance that Winifred’s task of alienating them even before they had thoroughly realized what lay in their hearts, and substituting herself in the guise of the necessary sympathy, was not a phenomenally difficult one. Worked by her sister’s slender, iron, little hands, Polly was transformed into a sharp-tongued, bad-tempered creature, in whose eyes Hubert could do nothing but wrong. ”