David Christie Murray

“ Thistlewood,’ said the girl, in a tone which a sensitive man might have thought purposely defensive.
‘Is it yes or no to-day, Bertha?’ asked Mr. Thistlewood.
‘It has always been no,’ she answered, looking down.
‘Oh,’ he answered, ‘I’m perfectly well aware of that. It always has been no up till now, but that’s no reason why it should be no to-day. And if it’s no to-day that’s no reason why it should be no again this day three months. Maids change their minds, my dear.’
‘It is a pity you should waste your time, Mr. Thistlewood,’ said Bertha, still looking down. ”

“ Now this innocent generalisation seemed gratuitously offensive to the absent Thistlewood, and chilled Bertha greatly.
‘That may be very true of some people,’ she responded; ‘but it isn’t true of all the quiet people in the world.. And I don’t think, Mr. Protheroe, that the people who make the greatest parade of their feelings are the people who really have the most to speak of.’
‘Why, that’s true, too, of some people,’ returned Protheroe; ‘but there are all sorts in the world, dear. Some say a lot and feel a lot Some feel a lot and say nothing. Some say nothing and feel nothing. ”

“ This certainty was the less to be endured, because Bertha had the sincerest desire to close with heavenly rather than with earthly meditations on a Sunday, but she could no more help being flustered by the thought of Lane Protheroe, and being chilled by the anticipation of Thistlewood’s look of bulldog fidelity, than she could help breathing. The girl’s trouble was that she could not give her heart to the man who commanded her respect, whilst it was drawn fluttering with all manner of electric palpitations towards another whom she thought infinitely less worthy. ”

“ How dared she feel the touch of so estimable a man to be so hateful? But from that moment the thing was settled beyond a doubt. She could respect John Thistlewood, she could admire the solidity and faithfulness of his character—but, marry him? That was asking for more than nature could agree to.
If Lane had only resembled John a little—ah! there was a glow of certainty called up by that fancy which might have been altogether delicious had the fancy been well grounded. If John had only been a little more like Lane? ”

“ The farmhouse was a tower of flame, fantastic turrets springing here and there. The dry timbers, centuries old, made the best of food for fire, and the place flamed like a tar-barrel. The screams of doomed horses came with hideous uproar from the stables in the rear.
The farmer and his wife, the men servants and the maid servants, were in the garden, all pale with fear and helpless; but the mother tore the night with calling on her daughter’s name.
Bulldog John and his rival came last of all, though they ran like hounds, and they crossed the bridge and dashed through the crowd together. ”

“ Bertha pursued her way along the tortuous bridlepath with thoughts which resembled the way she travelled. Like the road, her fancy seemed to turn back upon itself pretty often and yet in the main it held in the same direction. Of course, fighting was a brutal business to a girl’s way of thinking, but then, when she came really to think of it; men were strange creatures altogether, half terribly glorious and half contemptible. Lane had endured all these injuries simply and merely because he loved her! ”

“ Lane rolled over on to his face, rose to his hands and knees, smiled at his adversary for a little while, as if to give him an appetite for the business in hand, and then got to his feet and made ready.
Now for a man to hold his own at this particular form of fighting against an equal adversary for a bare five minutes argues five grand things for him, and these are chastity, temperance, hardihood, strength, and courage. It speaks well for these admirable qualities in both of them that Messrs. Thistlewood and Protheroe made a good hour of it. ”

“ The day was without a cloud, and the soft light was diffused everywhere on a skyey haze of whitish blue.
In this positively delightful weather, Bertha stood with folded hands in the porch of the Oak House (the floor and the far wall of the kitchen behind her patched with gleams of red and brown light) , like the central figure of a picture framed in live green. She was pretty enough to be pleasant to look at; but her charms were mainly the growth of tranquil good temper and sound sense. ”

“ Bulldog John had gone on doggedly courting, and butterfly Lane had taken to seeing too much convivial company in Heydon Hey and Castle Barfield, and there was a fear in Bertha’s mind that if her influence had not been permanent, it had at least started the young man on a track likely to prove disastrous. These emotional people, quick to feel and quick to forget, are hardly to be dealt with without danger. ”

“ People in Beacon Hargate were not rich in opportunities for the study of the acted drama, but Bertha had seen a play or two in the great town hard by, and Lane looked and talked rather too much like a stage lover to her mind. In the unreal life behind the footlights lovers talked with just such a fluency, just such a tender fiery emphasis. ”

“ On the Sunday following these interviews dogged John was at church, and the butterfly Protheroe also. Thistlewood looked as he always looked, rudely healthy, and a masterpiece of masterfulness and sullen perseverance and resolve. Lane was pallid and miserable, and Bertha remarking him was compelled to fall back on the bitter consolation of her former thoughts. He would take it heavily for a day or two, and would then forget all about it. He cast a glance or two in Bertha’s direction, and his eyes were full of melancholy appeal. ”

“ And yet next Sunday, when Bertha went to church, quite resolved not to waste so much as a glance upon him, he looked paler and more dejected than he had done a week ago. She looked in spite of herself—she must needs look at him,—and it was evident that as yet the cheesemonger’s daughter had found no way to cheer him. Thistlewood never altered. Those strong self-contained natures have a power upon themselves as they have on other people. ”

“ Bertha blushed, and turned away. The mother laughed. A light footstep sounded on the echoing boards of the little bridge, and the human blackbird, marching gaily in time to his tune, flourished a walking-stick in salutation as he approached. ”

“ You’m bound to tek a man’s own word about his own feelings. Who is to know ‘em if he doesn’t?’
‘Just so,’ said Thistlewood, with great dryness. He appeared to be little if at all disturbed by the interruption, but Bertha was blushing like a peony.
‘I sat quiet,’ said the girl’s mother, leisurely walking round the door with a half-finished gray worsted stocking depending from the knitting-needles she carried in both hands,—’ I sat quiet so as not to be a disturbance. It’s you for making love to a maid, I must allow, John.’
The girl ran into the house and disappeared from view. ”

“ Fellowes, gravely betaking herself once more to her knitting. Bertha had been crying already, and had hard work to restrain herself. ‘Look here, my darlin’,’ the mother said, with unwonted tenderness of tone and manner, ‘if you can’t read your own mind, you must let a old experienced woman read it for you. The lad’s as the Lord made him. What we see in any o’ the men to mek a fuss about, the Lord in His mercy only knows; but, to my mind, Lane’s ‘the pick o’ ten thousand. He’s alive, and that’s more than can be said of many on ‘em. ”

“ The clucking of fowls, the quacking of ducks, the very occasional grunt of some contented porker in the backward regions of the place, the stamp of a horse’s foot, and the rattle of a chain in a manger-ring—sounds quite unmusical in themselves—blended with the birds’ singing, and the thick humming of the bees, into an actual music in which no note was discordant. ”

“ It’s high time ‘twas made up one way or other. You’ve come to a marriageable age.’
‘I’m very well as I am,’ said Bertha, rather hastily. ‘I’m not in a hurry to be married.’
‘You’ve never been much like other gells,’ said her mother, with a dry humorous twinkle which looked more masculine than feminine. ‘But I reckon you’ll be in about as much of a hurry as the rest on ‘em be when the right man comes.’
At this moment a whistle of peculiar volume, mellowness, and flexibility was heard. The whistler was trilling ‘Come lasses and lads’ in tones as delightful as a blackbird’s. ”

“ It does not happen in every life-history that this sort of profound feeling finds an opportunity of proof, but in the story of the lives of John Thistlewood and Lane Protheroe this thing came to pass in such wise that he who ran might read the natures of the men, and know them once for all. ”

“ There’s a better love comes after the weddin’, if a gell marries a worthy solid man, than ever her knows before it. If a gell averts from a man that’s another matter. But if her can abide him to begin with, and if he’s a good man, her’ll be fond of him before her knows it.’
‘I should never be fond of Mr. Thistlewood, mother,’ the girl answered, flushing hotly. ‘It’s of no use to speak about him.’
‘Did the man ever mek love to you at all,’ the mother asked, ‘beyond comin’ here and barkin’, “Wool’t marry me?”’
‘I wish you wouldn’t talk of him, mother,’ Bertha answered in a troubled voice. ”

“ Fellowes on my side, as far as may be asked in reason. Her’ll find no better husband than I should be to her, I am sure. There’s more than a wheedlin’ tongue required to mek a married woman happy. I’ve pretty well proved as I’m not changeable. There’s a strong arm to tek care of her. There’s a homely house with plenty in it. There’s a goodish lump at the bank, and there’s nothing heart can desire as her might not have by asking for it.’
‘Well, John,’ said the farmer’s wife, clicking her needles cheerfully, ‘I’ve not a word to say again the match. Win the wench and welcome. ”

“ Broad brow, gray eyes, resolute little chin, the mouth the best feature of the face, her expression thoughtful, serene, and self-possessed, the gray eyes a trifle inclined to dream wide-awake, hair of no particular colour, but golden in the sunlight. ”

“ Castle Barfield, Heydon Hey, and Beacon Hargate form the three points of a triangle. Barfield is a parish of some pretensions; Heydon Hey is a village; Beacon Hargate is no more than a hamlet. There is not much that is picturesque in Beacon Hargate, or its neighbourhood. The Beacon Hill itself is as little like a hill as it well can be, and acquires what prominence it has by virtue of the extreme flatness of the surrounding country. ”

“ Mr. Protheroe was heard of as having made one of a picnic party in the neighbourhood of Heydon Hey, and of this party he was said to have been the life and soul. He was reported to have paid marked attentions to Miss Badger, daughter of a wealthy cheesemonger in Castle Barfield High Street. The young lady was rumoured to be possessed of great personal attractions, and a pretty penny, present and prospective.
Foreseen as it was, the news stung a little when it came. Even the most butterfly-like of lovers might have waited a little longer! ”

“ But it was generally conceded that he was a butterfly kind of young fellow, and there was a general opinion that he wanted ballast. Rural human nature is full of candour of a sort, and Lane was accustomed to criticism. He took it with a bright carelessness, and in respect to the charge of wanting ballast was apt to answer that ballast was a necessary thing for boats that carried no cargo. Thistlewood was generally admitted to be a well-ballasted personage—a man steady, resolved, serious, entirely trustworthy. ”

“ She turned, with a ghost of a smile.
‘You’re thinkin’, no doubt, as you’re full o’ trouble, my wench,’ began the mother, ‘and it’s no manner o’ use in talkin’ to young folks to try an’ mek out as a thing as pains don’t hurt. But if you can only bring ‘em t’ understand as it won’t hurt much by and by, you’ve done summat for ‘em, may be. What’s the trouble, wench? Come an’ tell thy mother.’
‘It’s all over now, mother,’ said Bertha
‘Not it,’ returned Mrs. Fellowes, ‘nor won’t be yet a while. Beesn’t one as cries for nothing, like most gells. ”

“ Thistlewood to be sure. Why woot’ent marry him?’
‘I like him well enough in a way,’ the girl answered ‘But I don’t like him that way!
‘What way?’
‘Why—in a marrying way,’ said Bertha.
‘Pooh!’ answered the notable woman. ‘What’s a maid know how she’d like a man?’
‘I should have the greatest respect for him,’ Bertha answered, wisely avoiding the discussion of this question, ‘if he wouldn’t come bothering me to marry him.’
‘Ay! ‘said her mother, assenting with a philosophic air. ‘That’s a wench’s way. When a man wants nothing her’ll give him as much as her can spare. ”

“ The advantages and disadvantages had been so equally distributed that by this time they were pretty nearly harmless to each other, but each was sustained by the hope of victory, and each would have died, and, for the matter of that, would have gone on dying, rather than yield the precious palm to the other. ”