Florence Montgomery

“ Humphrey looked rather bored. "Virginie wouldn't let me," he answered; "she thought it would be a good punishment."
Here was an opening! Sir Everard felt he ought not to let it slip.
"Punishment!" said he, trying to look very solemn; "I am sorry to hear you deserved punishing. Why, what have you been doing?"
Humphrey looked up to the ceiling, down to the ground, and all round the room. "I can't remember what it was, father!"
Sir Everard tried hard not to smile. "What is the use of scolding such a boy," thought he; "a child who does not even remember for what offence he is suffering?" ”

“ And, putting the trumpet on the floor, Humphrey sprang upon the old man, and shook him so vigorously that he woke in a fright; but when he saw his little visitors, he sat down again with a smile, saying, "Aye, aye, Mamselle said I was to expect you; and how are ye to-day, my pretty dears?"
"Quite well, thank you," said Miles, drawing nearer.
Dyson put his hand behind his ear: "I don't hear what you say," he said, rather sadly; "I'm an old man, and I'm getting deafer every day."
Humphrey chuckled with delight, and Miles looked up smiling.
"He'll hear soon, won't he, Humphie?" ”

“ He is trying to realize that the lawns and gardens will know his joyous presence no more. Surrounded by the haunts of the young life, he is forcing himself to believe that all henceforth shall be lone and silent, that never again shall they echo to his light footstep, or ring with his merry laugh; that the active limbs shall be motionless, and the busy hands for ever still. And only one word rose to his lips, "Impossible!"
At moments like these, how our feelings are reflected on all things around. Never before had Sir Everard so keenly realized the endless motion of nature. ”

“ Brightly rose the week which had been fixed for the Harvest Home, but it was welcomed by no festivities in the fields and meadows of Wareham Abbey.
The flags and tents which had been prepared were stored away again; the holiday dresses were put by unfinished; Dolly, the laundry-maid, hid away, with a great sob, the flaming yellow print with a red spot she had been all the way to the market town to buy; and village mothers, standing in groups at their cottage doors, whispered together with tearful eyes, and made faint attempts to keep their own restless boys in sight. ”

“ Even the village school children fidgeted less than usual, and one or two smock-frocks who had settled themselves in their usual attitude, of arms crossed on the back of the bench in front of them, and heads cradled thereupon, shook off the drowsiness consequent on their long, hot walk to church, and sitting up, gave their attention to the sermon. For were not one and all bound to the land the preacher was describing? And was there one who could say, "What is this to me?"
Only twice was even Humphrey's attention distracted. ”

“ Fardie said I might say it to you to-night. Shall I say it now?"
Without waiting for an answer, Miles raised himself on his knees, and put his little hands together. Then arose the sound of the baby voice:
"Around the throne of God in Heaven
Thousands of children stand;
Children whose sins are all forgiven,
A holy, happy band.
Singing Glory, Glory, Glory." * * * * *
Faster and louder comes the rushing and singing, but the misgiving is lulled to rest. Faster and faster, louder and louder, surging around him. But hushed are the doubts at once and for ever, and the fear has vanished away! ”

“ I almost hear the tones of the gentle voice, which, while reducing the mysteries of Divine truth to the level of the baby comprehension, carry with them the unmistakable impress of her own belief in the things of which she is telling: the certainty that the love and trust she is describing are no mere abstract truths to her, but that they are life of her life, and breath of her breath! ”

“ Dim conceptions of white-robed thousands wandering in the golden Jerusalem, by the jasper sea. Not strange to him that throng of angels, for foremost among them all, more beautiful than any, is the figure of his mother, standing as in the picture, looking down upon him with a smile. Heaven to him is peopled with her image, for he has no other notion of all that is fair and holy. ”

“ Sir Everard sat on, meditating. He mused on the by-gone time when his wife had told him Humphrey was as loving as Miles [Pg 270] and he had inwardly denied it; he mused on the responsibility of bringing up children, and the necessity of living constantly with them to hope to understand the complications of their characters; and sadly he reflected on the irreparable loss his children had sustained in the mother, who would have done it all so well.
He was not a morbid man, and he did not reproach himself for what had been unavoidable; for a man belongs more to the world than to his home ”

“ In the distance sits his father, with his legs crossed, and his head turned towards the pulpit, where stands the old clergyman, with his Bible in his hand. Breathlessly the boy listens for the words he longs to hear; but no sound comes from the lips of the preacher. Disappointment comes down upon his spirit, when, in his vision, the figure sitting by him takes out a pencil, and underlines something in his Bible.
"Of course," cries Humphrey out loud, "he knows; he can tell me. Uncle Charlie!" The real figure by the bedside starts and comes forward, but Sir Everard holds him back. ”

“ A boy of seven, who wears knickerbockers, is always an object of veneration to one of four, who is as yet limited to blouses: but Miles' imagination could not soar beyond the library and dining-room; and he could not remember [Pg 17] the drawing-room otherwise than a closed room; so his respect grew and intensified as he listened to Humphrey's glowing description of the past glories of the house, when the drawing-room was one blaze of light, when there were muslin curtains in the windows, and chintz on all the chairs; and mother lay on the sofa, with her work-table by her side. ”

“ He did not like to speak for fear of disturbing him, but as the look deepened almost to pain, he could not restrain himself any longer.
"Humphrey, my darling," he exclaimed, in his longing to do something, be it ever so little, to soothe his boy's dying hour, "what is it? What can I do for you?"
Nothing! With all his love and all his yearning, nothing!
For surging once more in the boy's brain is the noise as of rushing and singing, and [Pg 298] with its sound a fear has risen in his breast. Shall he ever, ever catch the music of that wondrous song? ”

“ There was no help for it, Sir Everard had to break off his discourse, and attend to the water, which was running all over the table, and the boy's laughter was so infectious that he joined heartily in it.
"I give it up," he said to himself; "it's no use trying to make an impression on anything so volatile."
"It served you quite right, father," said Humphrey, "for not letting me turn on the tap. You know quite well Miles and I always take turns to do it. Oh! I wish it would happen again!" And at the recollection, the merry laugh broke out once more. ”

“ Had Miles been a girl, he would probably have been satisfied to pass over the picture without further inquiry; girls' minds take a very superficial grasp of a subject; they are content to get at the shell of knowledge, and to leave the kernel untasted. Being a boy, Miles raised his large, grave eyes to Jane's face with an inquiring expression. ”

“ Suddenly he stopped short. "Humphie! I never said my prayers!"
"Good gracious! No more have I."
"What shall we do? We shall have to go home. It wouldn't be right, I suppose, to say them out of doors?"
"No harm at all," said Humphrey; "let's say them under the tree."
And, suiting the action to the word, with his usual promptitude, Humphrey knelt down; but he was up again directly.
"I was going to tell you, Miles, that we'd better take off our hats while we say them; every one does when they go to church; which, of course, you don't know, as you're too young to go there." ”

“ The housemaid who answered the bell could give no account of the young gentlemen, but volunteered to search the house for them.
While she was absent Virginie's eyes fell on Miles's flannel shirt, and she wrung her hands in despair.
"They must have gone out," said the housemaid, returning; "the conservatory door is wide open, and so is the outer door."
"Impossible!" stuttered Virginie, in her broken English; "their walking boots have not mounted; they have not but the thin shoes of the house!" ”

“ Never to play with Miles any more! No more games on the stairs, or in the passages! No, never more! For Miles is dying, perhaps already dead. How happy the baby in the picture looks! Can it really be him? Oh, happy baby, always close to mother! always with her arms round him, and her shoulder against his head. [Pg 248] Oh, if he could climb up into the baby's place, and stay there for ever and ever! How could he get up to her? She is in Heaven. She got there by being ill and dying. ”

“ Let each one try to realise the thoughts which followed each other in hot haste through his brain, the confused phantasmagoria which swam before him, fading away at last, and leaving only two distinct pictures—the jackdaw hopping about in his cage, and little lame Tom in the village, sitting in his cripple's chair.
He shrinks back in horror, his soul rises in loathing: he pants, and wildly throws himself about, with a half-smothered cry.
"Oh, gently, my darling! you will hurt yourself." ”

“ Uncle Charlie proved a charming story teller. He told them of sharks and crocodiles, of boar-hunting, and of wonderful adventures by land and sea.
The children hung on his every word.
The shadows grew long, and the sun [Pg 59] began to sink over the cornfields, and still they were absorbed in listening, and their father in watching their sparkling eyes and varying countenances.
"Come," said Sir Everard at last, jumping up, "no more stories, or we shall be here all night. It is past six, and Virginie will be wondering what has become of us." ”

“ So he gave it all up at once, "Miles was dying! perhaps already dead!"
A child of Humphrey's disposition suffers intensely when face to face with sorrow. Granted that the power of being easily distracted is a mitigation, it does not alter the feeling for the time. Life, past and future, is grafted into the misery of the present, and existence itself is a blank. ”

“ Sir Everard was going up to town that evening, but it was for the last time; and then, to the children's delight, he had promised to come down for good, and had settled that the Harvest Home should take place early in the ensuing week.
The corn-field presented a gay appearance when they reached it. The new machine, drawn by two fine horses, and driven by the bailiff, was careering along the corn, with the reapers all running by the side. Down fell the golden grain on all sides, and eager hands collected and bound it up. ”

“ Sir Everard paced up and down till the door re-opened, and the doctor made him a sign to come in.
He entered, and advanced to the side of the sofa. The room was so dark that he could only see the outline of the curly head, lying back among the pillows, but a little hand came out, and pulled him down.
"Father," in a voice which was hardly above a whisper, "it's all right. He isn't hurt a bit—not even a cold. I am so glad it is me that is hurt instead of him."
"Oh, hush! hush! my darling." ”

“ For would not the child one day thank Death, the destroyer; who in uprooting him fresh and green from the earth, would transplant him to the rich soil of God's own garden; where, in the sunshine of His Maker's presence, he should ripen into that perfection, which is unknown among the children of men? ”

“ My darling, it is so early and so cold. Better wait a little!"
"The insides of houses are so hot, mother; please say I may go out!" ...
Had the boy ever walked? Had he ever done anything but run?
Sir Everard could not recall one instance of meeting him out of doors, except running and rushing headlong, jumping over everything which obstructed his path.
Once again, there rose the thought of the motionless little figure sitting pale and silent in a cripple's chair. God help the poor father! In the bitterness of his spirit he had almost said, "Sooner than clip his wings, let him soar away." ”

“ He retraced his steps, and on entering the hall, was informed by the trembling Virginie that Humphrey had recovered consciousness, and had spoken.
He hurried to the drawing-room, but the doctor met him at the door, and motioned him back.
"Do not go in just yet," he said, closing the door behind him; "he seems to fear your displeasure about something, and shows great excitement at the thought of seeing you. I dare say," he added, quickly, for he was touched by the expression of pain which passed over the poor father's face, "I dare say he will get over it, when he is a little less confused." ”

“ The sight of the water, as he approached the Serpentine, recalled to his mind the pond at Wareham, and the expedition which had been the cause of the mischief. He remembered, with a start, how near he had left the children to the tempting spot, for the pond was almost within sight of the field where they were reaping.
For a moment he debated whether he had been wise to trust Humphrey again; but then he reflected how soon Virginie must have joined them, and how many people there were about. ”

“ The service began, and Humphrey struggled down from his seat.
The villagers had grown accustomed, when the congregation stood up, to see the baronet rise tall and broad from his seat, and the little brown head of his son disappear altogether; but Uncle Charlie was by no means prepared for so complete a collapse, and thought his nephew had fallen. However, there he was, standing on the ground, with his eyes fixed on his prayer-book, and the walls of the pew towering over him on every side.
"Why on earth does he not stand on a stool?" was the young man's inward reflection. ”

“ The rustic congregation had often wondered why the father and son sat at so great a distance from each other in the pew that so seldom had any occupants but themselves; and the old clergyman had at first with difficulty suppressed a smile at the view from the pulpit, of the broad shoulders and bearded face of the six foot man at one extremity, and the top of the small brown head at the other.
But in vain had Sir Everard invited the boy to sit nearer to him; he preferred his isolation. It had once occurred to the widower that it might be because it had been his wife's place ”

“ There would be no room for Virginie in the dog-cart, and so, if they promised to sit very still, and not stand on the wheel to get in, or jump out before the carriage had stopped, or do anything else equally extraordinary, they were to have been trusted to old Peter, the coachman, and what fun that would have been!
To get away from Virginie for so long was the height of human enjoyment. ”