Agnes Giberne

“ Nigel made no reply.
She gazed with anxious questioning.
"And if you do not—if you do not—will Mr. Carden-Cox keep our secret?"
"He says—not."
"Nigel; and you can hesitate!"
No answer again.
"Hesitate! When it means that. No, no—impossible! You are only playing with my fears. And caring for Fulvia as you do! It is not as if she were nothing to you; she—the most unselfish, the noblest—Yes, I know you had another fancy once. But what of that? Everybody has a boyish fancy first, which has to be given up. ”

“ Whether he could ever repay the whole might be doubted; but Nigel felt that it would be his aim.
Unless he married Fulvia! There would be no question of repayment then! Whatever he possessed she would possess.
If he did not marry her, then he would have to toil the more to place her in a position of comfort. If she were doubly wronged, he would have doubly to make up to her.
Either way, he saw his way hopelessly cut off from Ethel!
Was it his bounden duty to marry Fulvia as things stood? A father's dying wish has power; and Fulvia had too clearly shown her heart's desire. ”

“ So Nigel had said, "Whatever else—" then he, too, had been conscious of a want, either in himself or in Fulvia. Only it had not been want of trust. He had trusted her entirely, and now his trust was shaken.
If aught else be lacking between brother and sister, between friend and friend, between husband and wife, while there is perfect trust, there cannot be misery. It is hardly possible that perfect trust should exist without growing love; but trust must stand upon a firm foundation; it can only exist where such a foundation is found. ”

“ Gleams of sunshine were at an end when Ethel started; still, she had a spell of daylight and twilight ahead, long enough for a brisk walk, by way of shaking off recollections of Tom. When dusk should fall, she would look in at a friend's house for a cup of tea—one of the numerous single ladies "of the usual age" abundant in Newton Bury. It would never do to go home till after five. Mrs. Elvey was upstairs with neuralgia; and a fresh tête-à-tête with Tom so soon was not to be thought of.
"If mother doesn't come down, he must manage for himself for once," thought Ethel. ”

“ He who trusts must know from practical experience that the one whom he trusts is trustworthy. And whatever else is present, if trust fails everything fails; there is then no firm ground to stand upon; love sinks at once to a lower level.
Fulvia's own hand had cut away this firm ground from beneath her feet. In the main she was, as Nigel had always counted her, truthful and honourable; but one failure long persisted in had undone what went before. She might indeed never so fail again; but how could Nigel know? Where one cannot trust, there can be no security of happiness. ”

“ If I could I would stay with mother, but—when she cries so and says—Oh, I don't know how to bear it."
"My, dear, it is not a question of strength, but of will," said Fulvia. "People can do a good deal more, commonly, than they think they can, if only they would make up their minds to it, and manage to forget themselves."
Anice was hurt, of course, by the home-truth, and wept anew.
Then Daisy entered, with red eyes and broken breath. "Mother sent me," she said. "Is Fulvie up? Mother wants Nigel so, and I promised to tell him."
"Anice can tell him. Sit down, Daisy, and have some tea. ”

“ The love for Ethel is such an old love, it cannot die in a day—cannot change, I mean, into—But indeed I have not thought of Ethel in that light lately, only as—We should have become friends—no more! I believe that one can conquer—may conquer! I would have fought it out, God helping me."
Fulvia held out her hand, and Nigel grasped it, repeating, "Why did you insist? It was cruel to yourself and me. I think you ought to know how dear you are to—even though—Why could you not let things alone? ”

“ Fulvie dear!" Memory refused to carry her beyond those two words.
Fulvia made an effort to lift her weighted eyelids that she might glance towards Nigel. How sunshiny he looked, seated between Daisy and Malcolm, merrily avowing himself "lazy," and letting Daisy cut supplies of bread-and-butter for everybody, himself included! Was he so bright because he had saved her life? Anybody might rejoice to save any follow-creature from a terrible death; but was she no more than "any fellow-creature" to him? And Ethel was not present. He had not seen Ethel for hours. That look could not mean "Ethel"! ”

“ In a few minutes the whole bough would split off. This was the finishing touch to her misery. Once more Fulvia's composure failed her as terror rose high, and she screamed again for help, in a voice sharpened by fear.
Either the creaks or that new sound in Fulvia's voice aroused Ethel from her semi-trance. The eyes, dim and unseeing a minute earlier, grew clear, and she said distinctly, "It is giving way."
Fulvia broke into despairing sobs. "Ethel, Ethel, what shall we do? Why does no one come? It is cruel—cruel. Must we be drowned? I can't die! I cannot—cannot leave Nigel!" ”

“ At last!—the sound of wheels! Daisy flew in. "Some one has come," she cried. "Cousin Jamie, and—I'm not sure, but I think I had a glimpse of Nigel."
Fulvia kept her seat, trembling violently. She did not grow pale, but the flush deepened, spreading to her brow. "Call them here—quick," she said. "If not, I will go out. Quick!"
Daisy obeyed to the best of her power.
Dr. Duncan came in first, looking as if the events of the last two hours had told upon him. Nigel followed,—not the Nigel who had left home after lunch, but white, worn, heavy-eyed, as he had been after his father's death. ”

“ Not Tom, certainly, and not Ethel!
Never in Ethel's life had she been more astonished than by Tom's next utterance, after her pettish remark about "those horrid umbels." The pause following was long enough for Ethel to lose herself anew in thought, to forget Tom and painting, umbels and botany. Suddenly her attention was arrested by a shaky voice of genuine emotion—
"It's no good, you know, Ethel! I can't help it. I can't go off, and—and leave things like this. I'm going back to Australia, you know, before long, and you'll—you'll—you'll come with me, won't you? Say you will, Ethel! ”

“ Fulvia flushed.
"Yes. He has a great deal resting on him, and he will have hard work. Anice—Daisy—I want you both to promise me to be good and thoughtful—not to seem vexed and unhappy, whatever happens. Above all, don't let yourselves blame padre."
"Why should we blame him?" asked Daisy.
"Never mind. You will know everything soon enough—too soon for my wishes. Promise me not to think about yourselves, but only about madre, and how you can best help Nigel. We have to bear what comes; but the way of bearing makes all the difference in the world." ”

“ Carden-Cox, had been so anxious to bring about, was not a success. Nigel's spiritless gravity had long been in itself a silent rebuke; and Fulvia's broken mournful complaints struck even more keenly home; since their wish to press matters forward had been, at least in a measure, for Fulvia's sake.
Better far, for all concerned, if they had been content to leave uncertainties in the hands of One who sees the end from the beginning. We are all too apt to think that we can arrange the lives of those around us: and our meddling often only mars what we would fain set right. ”

“ Carden-Cox would or would not like. You are to keep the thing to yourself."
Daisy gazed at him dubiously.
"Do you think—are you—?" she faltered. "Are you angry? Poor Fulvia! I do wish I hadn't fished that stupid postscript out! After all this time! I do wish I had not said a word to you."
"Nothing is gained in the end by concealment."
"No—poor Fulvia!—" applying the axiom to another, instead of herself. "I wish she had spoken out. But perhaps she was afraid. She gets so frightened now of doing anything you may not like. I never know Fulvia could be a coward till lately. Are you very angry?" ”

“ A new dread of her own weakness assailed Fulvia, who had never felt herself weak before.
"It shall not be!" she muttered. "I will not give way! I will not! Any woman can be strong who chooses. I will be strong! I will not betray myself—whatever happens."
She began at length to make ready for going to bed, in a mechanical fashion, plaiting loosely her long hair to keep it out of her eyes, noting the lateness of the hour. Not far from two o'clock!
"What would the madre think of me? But they shall not know. I must look like myself to-morrow. If only I can sleep!" ”

“ Fulvia was silent, and Daisy's childish eyes scanned her. They were clever eyes, only undeveloped.
"Fulvie, why does mother dislike the Elveys? I think they are so nice."
"She doesn't."
"Yes, she does."
"No, it is not dislike. You are talking nonsense."
"Well then, she doesn't like Nigel to like them so much."
"Go and get something to do."
"I've done lots—heaps. I don't want to be busy now. Why does mother mind? Is it only because she wants him all to herself? Mother never does like any of us to be too fond of anybody—outside people, I mean. ”

“ Carden-Cox lowered his voice to almost a whisper—"I say, Mrs. Duncan, what do you think? Anything likely in that quarter?"
Fulvia heard a little snap of his fingers. The idea that she ought not to listen never occurred to her. She was hardly out of dreamland yet; and body and mind were so stupefied that movement seemed impossible.
"Nigel and Fulvia! No!"
"Why not?—eh?" with a sound of disappointment. "Why should they?"
"Why should they like one another? Nothing more natural. Always together from childhood."
"That's the very thing! Intimacy doesn't end as a rule in a real attachment. ”

“ If you had said 'Nigel and Ethel!'"
"Ethel Elvey! No, no. That won't do. Good girl, and immense favourite of mine, but not a penny will come to her. No—no, that won't do at all."
"Nigel will hardly marry for money."
"Nobody ever does. He may chance to fall in love with the girl who has money."
"I doubt it."
"Well, all I have to say is that Nigel will not marry Ethel Elvey!"
"Nobody can tell yet."
"He will not, my good lady!" Mr. Carden-Cox was always strengthened in his opinion by opposition. "You mark my words! He may or may not marry Fulvia. He will not marry Ethel." ”

“ Nigel's laugh had no ring in it. "A good deal more," he said. "One may 'like' a great many people."
"You know the sort of liking I mean. And you know that you don't like 'a great many people' as you like Fulvia."
"Perhaps not."
"Then what on earth keeps you back? It's your father's wish—it's my wish—and you care for her! What more do you want, eh? That Fulvia should 'like' you, I suppose! No fear about her! Daisy says—"
This was too much, and Nigel started up.
"Come, come; don't be excited. Lover-like, but unnecessary," laughed Mr. Carden-Cox. "I'll not betray confidences. ”

“ Fulvia did not frame the question. She gave one swift glance at his face, noting its gravity. Like a flash came the thought of her midnight resolution to "smooth the way" for him and Ethel; to put self aside, and only to be happy in the knowledge that others were so.
But with this recollection came also a sharp temptation. Why was she to do anything of the kind? Why need she act? Why not let things take their course? How could she tell whether Nigel did really care for Ethel? ”

“ Fulvia brought forward a glass of water.
"Take some of this," she said, adding in a whisper, "Don't give way, madre; it will worry him."
The words had less effect than Fulvia intended. Mrs. Browning turned from her, and broke into one grieved utterance—"Nigel, my own boy! Don't leave off loving me!"
"My dear mother! As if that were possible!"
Young men are not perhaps as a rule peculiarly tolerant of needless hysterics; but Nigel was patient, holding her in his strong arms, and trying to soothe the real though unfounded sorrow. ”

“ Fulvia broke in. "Madre, dear, we need not mind him. We will never listen to a single word breathed against the dear kind padre. Never!"
Fulvia was overdoing her part. She glanced in vain towards Nigel, hoping to be seconded; but his face was rigidly irresponsive.
"Mr. Carden-Cox said—" began Daisy.
"Uncle Arthur knows nothing about things—nothing more than we have told him. Daisy, do be sensible; do be kind; don't rake up worries," whispered Fulvia energetically. "It is of no use—none whatever. Nothing can be altered now by any amount of talk." ”

“ Browning was absorbed in thought about her husband, and the girls were absorbed in attentions to Nigel, while Nigel laughed and joked with them, and Fulvia knew that his mind was away at the Rectory. She could see "Ethel" written on every line of his face; and she knew that he was not noticing her at all.
In one sense it might be a relief that none should observe more keenly, for the part she had to act became easier thereby.
Yet human nature is curiously "mixed" in its ways, always wanting what it does not possess. Fulvia missed the very solicitude which she most desired to avoid. ”

“ Duncan, Annibel, and Daisy, beyond hearing. Only Anice and Rose remained near where Fulvia sat. Fulvia had lost the joke after all.
"What were you laughing at just now?" she asked.
"Oh, just something Mr. Elvey said," Rose answered. "What was it, Anice? I couldn't quite understand, only everybody laughed, and so—"
"And so you did too!" Fulvia spoke with a touch of disdain. She counted Rose an inane specimen of giggling young ladyhood.
"Well, of course, I couldn't keep out of it," explained Rose. "It looks so stupid to sit with a solemn face when other people are laughing." ”

“ Browning or Fulvia showed a wish for conversation, he responded kindly, but with a manifest effort, and it never lasted long.
Mrs. Browning craved for his old look, his old smile,—craved at times with a passionate longing. She did not know how to give up her former Nigel.
There is no love on earth like a mother's love: no love so pure, so lasting, so unselfish; no love which comes so near the love of God Himself,—though infinitely distant from it. As everything human varies, so in different natures the quality of even this varies ”

“ Fulvia could recall how the Elvey boys had voted Tom "a bore"; and how Ethel had said, "Poor fellow! Don't be too hard on him. He does his best."
But Fulvia said no more. Even while she despised herself for it, she was silent; trying to believe that her silence could make no real difference. She was at liberty to jest if she liked. Nigel might find out when he chose exactly how matters really stood. Besides, who could tell what might happen? Many a girl ends by marrying the man whom at first she criticised. If Nigel cared, he had but to ask. ”

“ Elvey. How are you all? How is—Ethel?"
"Ethel's all right. The best girl that ever lived, if an old father has a right to say so. Come and see for yourself. There she is at the open window. My wife and all of them inside. How is she? Oh, much the same as always—very ailing, poor dear. Never knows what it is to be really well. But come, come along. Not keep you indeed! Rubbish and nonsense!" cried the Rector joyously, forgetting all about his own fatigue, and allowing Nigel no loophole for explanation. ”

“ I hate to be called a 'young lady.' Nigel; come in—do! What makes you stand and dream? You dear old fellow! It's awfully jolly to see you again. Oh come along—make haste! Fancy waiting to take off your coat after a whole long year away! I was watching at the staircase window, and I saw you in the garden; but nobody else knows."
She pulled him across the hall and into the drawing-room, bursting open the door with a crash of sound which would have seriously disturbed Mr. Browning had he been present.
"Daisy! Daisy!" expostulated Fulvia.
"It's Nigel!" cried Daisy.
"At last!" murmured Anice. ”

“ You don't say there's another?"
Fulvia, almost shrieked in answer, "Yes!—Yes!—Ethel—Ethel Elvey!" Would he never understand?
"Bramble, what's all this? Fulvia!" exclaimed Dr. Duncan, arriving on the scene.
"She'd better drive home. Just got her out of the river. Yes—nice, isn't it?" with a rueful glance at his boots. "I don't think she knows what she's saying—" in an undertone, confidentially. "That's rubbish, you know, about Miss Elvey."
"No! No! No! He will not understand," cried Fulvia. "We fell in together—Ethel and I—and she has gone down—down the river! ”