Charlotte M. Yonge

“ Preparations were now made for carrying Fred up stairs, but even at that moment Aunt Mary was not without thought for Beatrice, who was retreating, as if she feared to be as much in her way as she had been in Henrietta’s.
“I did not see you, before, Queenie,” she said, holding out her hand and kissing her, “you have gone through more than any one.”
A thrill of fond grateful affection brought the tears into Queen Bee’s eyes. How much there was even in the pronunciation of that pet playful name to touch her heart, and fill it to overflowing with love and contrition. ”

“ She dashed through the heath and furze to meet them, sending her voice before her with the good news, “He is alive! Philip Carey says he is alive!” and with these words she stood before her father and her Aunt Mary.
Her aunt seemed neither to see nor hear her; but with a face as white and still as a marble figure, hastened on. Mr. Geoffrey Langford stopped for an instant and looked at her with an expression such as she never could forget. “Beatrice, my child!” he exclaimed, “you are hurt!”
“No, no, papa,” she cried. “It is Fred’s blood—I am quite, quite safe!” ”

“ Langford had promised her for the garden at the Pleasance. Her mamma smelt the flowers, admired them, and smiled as she said, “Your papa planted a root of those in my little garden the first summer I was here.”
“Then I am sure you will like to have them at the Pleasance, mamma.”
“My dear child,”—she paused, while Henrietta started, and gazed upon her, frightened at the manner—“you must not build upon our favourite old plan; you must prepare—”
“O but, mamma, you are better! You are so much better than two days ago; and these clear days do you so much good; and it is all so bright.” ”

“ Why my boys can drive long before they are that age,—surely he knows how!”
“O, Roger, what have you done!” said she faintly, as if the exclamation would break from her in spite of herself.
“Indeed, mamma,” said Henrietta, alarmed at her paleness, “I assure you Fred has often told me how he has driven our own horses when he was sitting up by Dawson.”
“Ay, ay, Mary,” said Uncle Roger, “never fear. Depend upon it, boys do many and many a thing that mammas never guess at, and come out with whole bones after all.” ”

“ It was a regular April day, with all the brilliancy and clearness of the sunshine that comes between showers, the white clouds hung in huge soft masses on the blue sky, the leaves of the evergreens were glistening with drops of rain, the birds sang sweetly in the shrubs around. Henrietta’s burning eyes felt refreshed, and though she sighed heavily, she could not help admiring, but Beatrice was surprised that the first thing she began to say was an earnest inquiry after Aunt Geoffrey, and a warm expression of gratitude towards her. ”

“ I expected you every moment to ask the honour of my hand for the first quadrille, but I suppose you leave it for Philip Carey!”
“If it comes at all you must start me, Bee,” said Alex, “for I am sure I can’t dance with any one but you.”
“Let me request it now,” said Fred, “though why you should think I like dancing I cannot imagine! I am sure nothing but your Majesty can make it endurable.”
“There are compliments to your Majesty,” cried Henrietta, laughing; “one will not or cannot dance at all without her, the other cannot find it endurable! I long to see which is to be gratified.” ”

“ The next day, Fred was alive to all that was going on, but suffering considerable pain, and with every sense quickened to the most acute and distressing degree, his eyes dazzled by light which, as he declared, glanced upon the picture frames in a room where his mother and uncle could scarcely see to find their way, and his ears pierced, as it were, by the slightest sound in the silent house, sleepless with pain, incapable of thought, excessively irritable in temper, and his faculties, as it seemed, restored only to be the means of suffering. ”

“ Grandpapa, or Fred, or Uncle Roger, or Alex now, they are as kind and gentle as possible: yet the delight they can take in catching and killing—”
“That is what town-people never can understand,” said Beatrice, “that hunting-spirit of mankind. I hate above all things to hear it cried down, and the nonsense that is talked about it. I only wish that those people could have seen what I did last summer—grandpapa calling Carey, and holding the ladder for him while he put the young birds into their nest that had fallen out. ”

“ There was Uncle Geoffrey, he was in the world. It might be for him to pray for that spirit which enabled him to pass unscathed through the perils of his profession, neither tempted to grasp at the honours nor the wealth which lay in his way, unhardened and unsoured by the contact of the sin and selfishness on every side. This might indeed be the world. There was Jessie Carey, with her love of dress, and admiration, and pleasure; she should surely pray that she might live less to the vanities of the world ”

“ Away went all the wholesome self-reproach which he had begun to feel, away went all fear of Uncle Geoffrey’s eye, all compunction in meeting his mother, and he entered the dining-room in such lively spirits that his uncle was vexed to see him so unconcerned, and his mother felt sure that her entreaty had not been disregarded. She never heard to the contrary, for she liked better to trust than to ask questions, and he, like far too many boys, did not think concealment blameable where there was no actual falsehood. ”

“ Such was Uncle Geoffrey’s reply; his face and tone so suddenly altered to the snarl of the old Jew, that his young companions at first started, and then clapped their hands in delighted admiration.
“Do you really know it all?” asked Henrietta, in a sort of respectful awe.
“It won’t cost me much trouble to get it up,” said Mr. Geoffrey Langford; “Shylock’s growls stick in one’s memory better than finer speeches.” ”

“ It is always bad enough—”
“Bad enough! O, Busy Bee!” cried Henrietta, quite unprepared to hear of any flaw in her paradise.
“You will soon see what I mean. The host of boys in the way; the wooden bricks and black horses spotted with white wafers that you break your shins over, the marbles that roll away under your feet, the whips that crack in your ears, the universal air of nursery that pervades the house. It is worse in the morning, too; for one is always whining over sum, es, est, and another over his spelling. ”

“ Mamma, do say what you think.”
“I think, my dear, that woman has been mercifully endowed with an instinct which discerns unconsciously what is becoming or not, and whatever at the first moment jars on that sense is unbecoming in her own individual case. The fineness of the perception may be destroyed by education, or wilful dulling, and often on one point it may be silent, though alive and active on others.”
“Yes,” said Henrietta, as if satisfied.
“And above all,” said her mother, “it, like other gifts, grows dangerous, it may become affectation.” ”

“ She rested her head on her cushions, and silently and mournfully followed with her eyes the hasty trembling movements of her daughter, who continued to arrange the things on the table, and make desperate attempts to regain her composure; but completely failing, caught up her bonnet, and hurried out of the room.
“Poor dear child,” said Mrs. Frederick Langford, “I wish she was more prepared. Beatrice, the comforting her is the dearest and saddest task I leave you. Fred, poor fellow, is prepared, and will bear up like a man; but it will come fearfully upon her. ”

“ Every one, inclined to that same impetuosity, and want of soberness, can remember the dismay with which hosts of such disregarded checks will recur to the mind when too late, and the poor satisfaction of the self-justification which truly answers that their object was not even comprehended. Henrietta, accustomed but little to heed such indications of dissent from her will, did not once think of her grandmamma’s dislike, and Beatrice with her eyes fully open to it, wilfully despised it as a fidgety fancy. ”

“ Henrietta came up to her, and at first stood by her, intently watching her brother; then after a time sat down on a footstool, and, with her head resting on her mother’s lap, gave herself up to a sort of quiet heavy dream, which might be called the very luxury of grief. Uncle Geoffrey sat by the fire, watching his sister-in-law even more anxiously than the patient, and thus a considerable interval passed in complete silence, only broken by the crackling of the fire, the ticking of the watches, or some slight change of posture of one or other of the three nurses. ”

“ True as the speech was, how would Beatrice have liked to have seen her father or mother stand before her at that moment?
“Ah, well! it is all very well,” said grandmamma, shaking her head, as she always did when out-argued by Beatrice, “you girls think yourselves so clever, there is no talking to you; but I think you had much better let old Martha alone; she has done it well enough before ever you were born, and such a litter as you will make the Church won’t be fit to be seen to-morrow! All day in that cold damp place too! I wonder Mary could consent, Henrietta looks very delicate.” ”

“ He gave a long whistle, and then turned to point out all the interesting localities to Henrietta. There was something to tell of every field, every tree, or every villager, with whom he exchanged his hearty greeting. If it were only a name, it recalled some story of mamma’s, some tradition handed on by Beatrice. Never was walk more delightful; and the girls were almost sorry to find themselves at the green gate of the Pleasance, leading to a gravel road, great part of which had been usurped by the long shoots of the evergreens. ”

“ Flirtation is not a pleasant word, and it is one which we are apt to think applies chiefly to the manners of girls, vain of their personal appearance, and wanting in sense or education. Beatrice would have thought herself infinitely above it; but what else was her love of attention, her delight in playing off her two cousins against each other? Beauty, or the consciousness of beauty, has little to do with it. Henrietta, if ever the matter occurred to her, could not help knowing that she was uncommonly pretty, yet no one could be more free from any tendency to this habit. ”

“ This was Henrietta’s first cottage visit, and she was all eagerness and interest, picturing to herself a venerable old man, almost as fine-looking as her grandfather, and as eloquent as old men in cottages always are in books; but she found it rather a disappointing meeting. It was a very nice trim-looking daughter-in-law who opened the door, on Mr. Langford’s knock, and the room was neatness itself, but the old carpenter was not at all what she had imagined. ”

“ It was one of those occasions on which she showed little consideration, for she thus gave Portia an immense quantity to learn in only two days; persuading herself all the time that it was no such hard task, since the beautiful speech about mercy Henrietta already knew by heart, and she made no difficulties about the rest. Indeed, Beatrice thought herself excessively amiable in doing all she could to show off her cousin’s beauty and acting, whilst taking a subordinate part herself; forgetting that humility is not shown in choosing a part, but in taking willingly that which is assigned us. ”

“ It is the elegance, and the air, and the society that are wanting, not the will. It is the circumstances that make the difference, not the temper.”
“Quite true, Busy Bee,” said her aunt, “temper may be the same in very different circumstances.”
“But it is very curious, mamma,” said Henrietta, “how people can be particular in one point, and not in another. Now, Bee, I beg your pardon, only I know you don’t mind it, Jessie did not approve of your skating.”
“Yes,” said Beatrice, “every one has scruples of his own, and laughs at those of other people.” ”

“ Why they always send Carey over for her with the gig if there is but a tooth-ache the matter at Sutton Leigh.”
“Is she one of Aunt Roger’s nieces?” asked Henrietta.
“Yes,” said Beatrice. “And—O! grandpapa, don’t look at me in that way. Where is the use of being your pet, if I may not tell my mind?”
“I won’t have Henrietta prejudiced,” said Mr. Langford. “Don’t listen to her, my dear: and I’ll tell you what Jessie Carey is. She is an honest, good-natured girl as ever lived; always ready to help every one, never thinking of trouble, without an atom of selfishness.” ”

“ Henrietta was annoyed, and walked about the room, instead of sitting down to read. She was too fond of her own will to like being thus checked, and she thought she had quite as good a right to be with her brother as her aunt could have. Every temper has one side or other on which it is susceptible; and this was hers. She thought it affection for her brother, whereas it was impatience of being ordered.
Her mother forced herself to speak cheerfully. “Aunt Geoffrey is a capital nurse,” said she; “there is something so decided about her that it always does one good. ”