Agnes Giberne

“ Lettice walked by his side, and then stood dreamily outside the throng into which he plunged. She had a semi-bewildered sensation, for crowds were new and somewhat overpowering after years of country life. All through the earlier part of the journey a load of distress had pressed her down. How to endure the secret let out by Keith; how to bear with patience the false accusation from which at any moment she might clear herself; how not to loathe Theodosia with a detestation which should darken all her spiritual life;—these problems had been of absorbing interest. ”

“ The journey seemed interminable to Lettice so far: and a blank realisation came of all that lay ahead. They had to reach London: to cross to Paddington: to travel down to Bristol: and even then a country drive of unknown length remained.
Lettice glanced at her sister's face, and found no cheer there. It had not only a sombre, but a sunken look. If already thus exhausted, how would she bear the fatigues of the whole day?
"Sissie is thinking of Felix. She will make herself ill! If I could but comfort her!" murmured Lettice.
She drew nearer, and laid a hand on Cecilia's, lovingly. ”

“ Felix had never known sorrow since his father's death, and then he had been a mere child. The cold touch of bereavement bewildered him. To hear of other people losing their friends was a matter of course, easily dismissed with a pitying word or two; but that he should lose Cecilia—Cecilia, with whom every inch of his life was associated, who had been parent, sister, protector, everything to him—that his Cecilia should have passed away beyond reach, into the world of the unseen, seemed incredible, even horrible. ”

“ Always, how was Cecilia? what was Cecilia doing? did Cecilia miss her greatly? And might she soon be with Cecilia? She could not acquiesce in her deprivation. Her eyes were intent ever upon the door, her ears were intent for footsteps beyond the door. At this rate she was not likely to recover tone and strength quickly. Prue coming in on the fourth morning, with the usual remark, "Not yet," met a face of despair which went to her heart.
"Why, Lettice, poor child, you don't mind so very much," she said, sitting down by her side. "It is only for a day or two, I hope. You must try to be brave." ”

“ Keith pranced off, banging the door, and she remained where he left her, drooping in a dead blank of depression and loneliness, the like of which she had not before known. Always she had had her home, her sister and brother, her right to love and be loved by them: and now she was alone.
Nothing to live for: nobody to care for: no one to live and care for her: only Felix far-away out of reach, and the kind Valentines scarcely more accessible. A sense of dreariness weighed her down. ”

“ LETTICE, away in her western home, had no such comfort as Prue; no loving mother-arms to enfold her; no gentle mother-lips to kiss away heart-ache. Those who have never known this sweetest of all earthly comforts cannot realise the emptiness of not having it; and the grief of conscious loss is not theirs. But Lettice did sorely feel the need of some such love and sympathy.
She had comfort: the highest comfort: a love deeper than even mother-love; a tenderness exceeding even mother-tenderness ”

“ Cecilia's dresses lay about on bed and chairs; Cecilia's little treasures were tossed together on the floor. What Theodosia's object could have been in leaving things thus, Lettice was unable to conjecture.
A torrent of recollections took possession of her, at the sight of an old brown merino, which Sissie had worn incessantly the last autumn, going to and from her lessons . . . Those dear old days! Gone for ever!
Sissie's face came back with an extraordinary vividness: and Lettice knelt by the bed, kissing passionately the old merino which Sissie's hand had touched. ”

“ I never fancied Felix could be what he is now to me. Three months ago, if I could have looked ahead, how little I should have cared about Mrs. Bryant's unkindness . . . At least it would have been a different feeling altogether—not desolate! I do care now: but I shall be cleared some day, quite cleared. I am sure of it. And meantime life is so happy! How can I help being contented? . . . That poor little Keith? Ought I to be glad about anything, when he is dying?"
So the hours passed, in alternations of feeling; and after midnight, the journey ended, in a dark drive to Quarrington Cottage. ”

“ Lettice's brow lost some of its strain, her eyes some of their forlornness: and Nurse Valentine's hand coming between hers was held tightly.
"I wish I had you for a friend," she murmured. "There's nobody to go to."
"There's always ONE, child," in hushed tones.
"Is there? But Sissie is too ill. I must not trouble her. And she never likes people to cry. And Felix—" Lettice had to set her teeth rigidly again. "And—and—I'm so—stupid."
"Never mind that; you are not too stupid to feel sorrow, or to need comfort. ”

“ To work for him was a pure delight, because she loved him, and because he was good to her. Lettice had fitted easily and completely into her new home, finding great happiness there. The dull little room, and uninteresting outlook, signified nothing. Perpetual cheer existed in perpetual freedom from Theodosia's rasping temper, in constant power to devote herself to Felix. She could often forget for hours together the unjust and cruel suspicion under which she still lay; and only the thought of Dr. Bryant weighed still. ”

“ Nobody ever had a better or truer husband than I in your dear father."
Perhaps Mrs. Valentine was unreasonable to expect that her past experience should serve for Prue. There was a slight pause, and then—
"Some men one can be sure would not act so."
"Yes: but one cannot be sure what other kind of unhappiness might be bound up in the thing one wants. God knows best."
"I never doubt that . . . One doesn't question His knowing best . . . The difficulty is not to wish for the thing He denies—even if it is bad for one. Or to believe that it can be bad." ”

“ But oh, to have lived for Him! To have served Him! . . . The pitifulness of living to oneself, and coming to Him only at last! . . . O the difference now, if I had only lived for Him! . . . Lettice, don't forget—don't put off! Pray to be shown! I shall look for you there! And tell Felix—tell Felix—"
Cecilia broke off: and those around her knew from her face that she could bear no more.
"O Sissie, one moment—"
"No, no. Good-bye, my dear. Tell Felix—he must come—"
Cecilia controlled herself to say so much. Then to the doctor: "Yes—take her, please." ”

“ Of this Felix knew nothing; but he could not help listening. He had undoubtedly lived to himself of late, so far as such living is possible, and he knew it—nay, he had rather prided himself upon the fact. He had not lived for other men. He had not lived unto God. His one aim had been wealth; not wealth to be used for the good of fellow-men, but wealth purely and exclusively for his own advantage.
Such thoughts floated in a back region of his mind, while Mr. Kelly drew sharp distinctions between the life that is lived to God, and the life that is lived to self. ”

“ It is only a girl—a big dull girl, twice as old as you."
"Twice six is twelve."
"Clever boy! Well, she is fifteen—a great deal more than twice as old. No companion for you, and much too big to play games. She will only be in the way."
"I don't want a girl. If it was a boy, I should like it."
"Ah, it isn't a boy. Only a girl, and a tiresome grown-up lady, who is ill, and who will give no end of trouble, and not like the least noise. You will have to creep up and downstairs like a mouse now."
"Mamsie, don't you like them to come?"
"I hate it, Keith." Theodosia hid her face. ”

“ She lifted her eyes slowly again. "I'm tired," she said. "I should like to put off—if—but I can't, because of what Sissie said. I mustn't let myself want anything, except what Felix wants."
"You can't be a slave to him all your life."
"I'm only his. Nobody else's."
"Yes, you are. You are ours too. Say you are. Say you mind going, just a little. We shall always be thinking of you. Don't you know you are our little queen—Nan's and mine?"
Lettice smiled quietly, not blushing in her childish freedom from self-consciousness. ”

“ Prue acted her part so well that Mr. Kelly had no part to act. Ere merely had to greet her as he had greeted hundreds in his new Parish; and if a slight touch of disappointment came to him also, it was mingled with something like relief. He had been so long a bachelor for Prue's sake, that he was not now at all certain whether, even for Prue's sake, he wished to be anything else; and yet he was glad to see that Prue remained distinctively herself. More gone off in looks, perhaps, than he had expected; but still unlike any other woman of his acquaintance. At least Prue would never be ordinary. ”

“ The words broke from her, under pressure of strong feeling. "If I could; but that is out of the question." She tried to rein herself in, to resume her usual manner, though her hands shook visibly.
"I do not know why I should say all this," she went on, after a pause. "Nobody can do anything. It is not my way to appeal to other people. If I had not been upset—shaken—The thought that all must soon be over! To leave Felix, not knowing if I shall ever—But such partings have to be borne, of course. They are a part of life . . . And I have great comfort in knowing that the boy will do well. ”

“ Bryant, each instant bringing her nearer to Felix and the Valentines, a sense of quiet crept into the turmoil. First, the old comfort—old, yet always new; God knew, God loved, and it was the will of God. In His love and in His knowledge, He permitted this; therefore it was well. Then followed pity for her injurer; pity that Theodosia could so act, could so debase herself; pity that Theodosia's child should know what must slay his esteem for her,—and a child's love is largely a love of esteem, because it is almost of necessity a looking up love. ”

“ It is Mr. Kelly's doing. He has a living there, and he is getting me into a first-rate house of business. No, not a stationer's. Tea-trade. Not a retail shop, but a wholesale house of business. If I do well, there's no reason why I shouldn't make my fortune some day. Everybody says I am capital in that line. I mean to stick to it, and lay by, and sooner or later I may become a partner. At least I hope so. I don't see why not. I'll be a successful man in time. Life would not be worth living without."
Lettice thought of the dying message of Cecilia. Had he no recollection of those burning words? ”

“ The old self-distrust and shyness had markedly lessened. "If the entire horizon of his life is filled with that one object, no room remains for a higher aim to come in. He is absorbed in his work for its own sake—and that is the sum of the matter. I wish one could bring some other element into his life—something outside and beyond mere personal success."
"There is Lettice," Prue said.
"True: but they rarely meet. Perhaps in London his circle may widen. He has been in a narrowing groove at Brighton. The young fellow works manfully: and he is self-controlled—almost extraordinarily so. ”

“ Valentine said calmly. She looked at Prue, and added, "The cabman?"
"Yes; I told him to wait for a minute."
The words startled Lettice. "The cabman—I forgot," she said hurriedly. "But what ought I to do? I might—could I not go back to-night? If there is a train early enough—"
"No, dear. That is quite out of the question," Prue said at once. "It would be wrong, for the sake of Felix. And we could not let you go after dark, alone. You are not used to manage for yourself. You poor child! How tired you are! Take off your hat." ”

“ Such snow as had fallen on Thursday was gone from Brighton: and he scarcely noticed the ice-cold wind, for his mind was intent on other matters.
He had a definite and absorbing aim before him. Felix meant—not only meant, but was resolutely determined—to get on in life. He had no idea of resting content with his present position. Getting on would mean hard work: and he was willing to work hard. He intended to succeed: to climb from step to step, to win confidence and approval, to leave the stationer's shop in his rear, to make money, to secure a home for his sisters. ”

“ She sat down by Lettice's side, and kissed her brow. "You dear child! How exactly the same you are! It is nice to see you again."
"But I can't stay. If I don't go back to-night, I must go to-morrow." What Theodosia would say Lettice dared not think. "I must," she repeated. "I could not stay to be a burden to you all; and you can't have much room in these lodgings."
"No, not much. That is the difficulty."
"I don't see how you can, even one night."
"I wish I could get some tea—that poor little head of yours is so bad. All the world is distracted just now, and the water won't boil." ”

“ Theodosia Wells had married Dr. Bryant, not because she really loved him, though his face and manner had both a certain power over her, but because she lacked the means of livelihood, and because she had a keen eye to the future of her boy, her only child. She would have endured a much worse husband than Dr. Bryant, if thereby she might secure an easy future for Keith. And "endurance" is hardly the word to employ with respect to Dr. Bryant. If endurance really were needed, it was because she failed to appreciate him, not because he failed towards her in either appreciation or duty. ”