M. E. Braddon

“ Dulcimer remembered.
‘How much I miss Beatrix Harefield!’ said the Vicar. ‘There is something original about that girl which always interested me—and then she has such a mind to appreciate books. I never saw so young a creature fasten as she does on a great book. She seems to have an instinct which always leads her to the best.’
‘She is a noble creature,’ said Cyril, quietly.
‘What a wife she would have made for your cousin!’ exclaimed Mrs. Dulcimer, too eager to be able to mask her batteries altogether.
‘She would make a noble wife—for any man,’ assented Cyril. ”

“ Mr. Culverhouse was something more than the curate of Little Yafford to that one member of his congregation. She was a girl of striking appearance, richly but carelessly dressed in velvet and silk, with feathers in her bonnet, according to the fashion for that year made and provided. She had one of those brilliant Southern complexions—that rich mingling of carnation and palest olive—which are alone sufficient for good looks; but in her case this charm was heightened by the splendour of dark Italian eyes, and the warm brown of rippling hair. ”

“ A life of poverty and complaint, discontent, and upbraiding. Be reasonable, Beatrix. Let the bitter experience of my life govern yours. Great inequality of fortune between husband and wife means that one of the two is dupe or victim. Wait till a suitor approaches you who has advantages to offer equal to those you can give. You are tired of this gloomy home—you want to spread your wings and fly. Be patient for a little while. For your sake I will come out of my shell. I will take you to great cities. You shall see the world, and make your own choice, but make it wisely. ”

“ Kenrick was not in love with Beatrix Harefield, in spite of all those hints and innuendos wherewith Mrs. Dulcimer had artfully striven to kindle the fire of passion in his heart. He was not in love with her, but he admired her beyond any woman he had ever met, and he could but remember that her fortune would give him the desire of his heart. He was above the meanness of marrying for money. He would not have sold himself to a woman he disliked or despised, any more than he would have sold himself to Satan. ”

“ The Piper children were stupid and insolent. Existence was altogether a trial. Bella thought of Beatrix Harefield’s smooth life in the beautiful old Water House, with its lights and shadows, its old world comfort, its retinue of well-trained servants. A dull life, no doubt, but a paradise of rest. As a child, Bella had been envious of her playfellow; but, since both girls had grown to womanhood, envy had assumed a deeper hue, black as the juice of the cuttle-fish, which darkens all it touches. ”

“ The Vicarage dining-room was charming by this light. The blocks of books, the shelves of old china, Uncle John’s portly sideboard, standing out with a look of human corpulence in the ruddy glow, shining with a polish that did credit to Rebecca, Aunt Tabitha’s mahogany bureau glittering with brassy ornamentation, the sombre crimson of the well-worn curtains giving depth of tone to the picture. Yes it was a good old room in this changeful and uncertain light, and to Bella, after the discords and disorders of home, it seemed an exquisite haven of repose. ”

“ Kenrick loved the place—castle, village, river—low-lying water meadows—ancient avenues—fair green field where the foundations of the abbey had been marked out with rows of stones—a stone for each pillar in nave and aisles—chancel [214] and apse—he loved all these things with a love that was almost a passion. His heart thrilled within him when he came back to the familiar scene after a year or more of exile. His nature, not too warm elsewhere, warmed to the old goodies and gaffers of Culverhouse village with an unalterable tenderness. ”

“ He will misjudge and insult you, for he believes in no man’s truth or honour. He has made for himself a religion of hatred and suspicion. Why should we make him the ruler of our lives—why should we accept misery because he wills us to be miserable? You are quite sure that you love me, Cyril—it is really love and not pity that you feel for me?’ she asked, suddenly, with a gush of womanliness. ”

“ It was a pretty scene, that parish church of Little Yafford, in the late October evening. The clusters of wax candles in the brazen branches threw just enough light on column and arch to leave the greater part of the building in shadow. The rich colouring about the altar made a glow of splendour at the end of the gray stone chancel. The old oak pews, with their quaintly carved doors, reflected the light redly on bosses that took every shape, from the graceful fleur-de-lys to the dog-faced demon or blunt-nosed cherub. ”

“ This idea of a living opened quite a delicious picture before the eye of fancy. Bella saw herself a vicar’s wife—a person of importance in the village—like Mrs. Dulcimer—inhabiting some pretty vicarage, full of old china, and modern furniture, surrounded with smiling lawns and flower-beds, instead of the gooseberry bushes, cabbage rows, and general utilitarianism and untidiness of the Scratchell garden. And with Cyril—her Cyril—for the companion of her days. Imagination could paint no fairer life. ”

“ What bliss to be away from them all! This noisy circle—the odour of Dorset butter—the poor mother’s worried looks, and frequent getting up to see after this and that—the scolding and disputing—the domestic turmoil.
A lonely old bachelor, looking in through the window at the firelit room, might perchance have envied Mr. Scratchell his healthy young family might have thought that this circle of eager faces, and buzz of voices, meant happiness; yet for Bella home meant anything but happiness. ”

“ He marry a ballet-girl dancer, the proudest of men! She sell penny bunches of violets, the most aristocratic of women! All the best people of Little Yafford visited the Water House, and swore by Mrs. Harefield.
She was not a woman to make her influence widely felt even in that quiet circle. Beauty and elegance were her chief gifts. She was passionately fond of music—played exquisitely, in a style which was poetic rather than brilliant—sang sweetly—but not with the power of voice or splendour of execution which would have justified the story of her having been a prima donna. ”

“ So Betty lighted a pile of logs on the open hearth, and put a pair of candles on the table near the fire, and wheeled a tapestried arm-chair beside it, and placed Sir Kenrick’s slippers comfortably in front of the fender—so that in spite of its long disuse the room had a homelike aspect when he came to it after his homely dinner. By this dim light the room looked lovely—all its shabbiness hidden—all its beauties of form and colour intensified—the figures in the fine old tapestry standing out in life-like roundness. ”

“ Jarvis was the groom who had taught Beatrix to ride her pony ten years ago, when Mr. Namby had suggested riding as a healthy exercise for the pale and puny child.
‘It will be very nice,’ said Bella.
‘Very nice for me. But I’m afraid it will be a dreadfully dull Christmas for you, Bella. You will wish yourself at home. Christmas must be so cheerful in a large family.’
‘I can endure the loss of a home Christmas with exemplary resignation,’ replied Bella, with a graceful little shrug of her pretty shoulders. ‘I think if there is one time more trying than another in our house, it is Christmas. ”

“ Dulcimer has in view,’ thought Cyril, expecting to be made adviser in a love affair.
‘Indeed,’ he said kindly. ‘I am sure you can have nothing very appalling to confess. And if my advice can be of any use to you it is entirely at your service.’
‘How kind you are!’ exclaimed Bella. ‘I wonder sometimes that you can find so much kindness for every one—that you can sympathize with so many—that you are never worn out or impatient, or——’
‘I should be very unworthy of my vocation if I could be so easily wearied,’ said Cyril, stopping this discursive gush of laudation. ”

“ Cyril found her curiously ignorant of all that was most vital in religion, and his first interest in her arose from this very ignorance of hers. He was so glad to set her right—to get her out of the narrow Scales track, Miss Scales being essentially Low Church, and scenting Roman encroachment in an anthem or a surplice. The interest soon deepened, but he could hardly have told when it first grew into love. Perhaps that might never have come, if Beatrix’s fresh young soul had not gone out to meet his unawares, so that ere he knew himself a lover he found himself beloved. ”

“ The two girls at the Water House lived their solitary life all through the dark week before Christmas. They read a great deal; Bella confining herself to the novels from the Great Yafford library, Beatrix reading those books which she believed were to fit her for companionship with Cyril Culverhouse in the days to come. They did not find so much to say to each other as friends of such long standing might have been expected to find. But Beatrix was by nature reserved about those things nearest her heart, and her cloistered life gave her little else to talk about. ”

“ The woman he loved declared herself all his own. She held the sacrifice of fortune as a feather weighed against his love. She was ready to be his wife, unfettered, unburdened by the wealth which had never entered into his views or desires. The loss of that wealth would weigh as lightly with him as it did with her. But could he be so selfish as to take this impetuous girl at her word? Could he say to her, ‘Sacrifice all things for my sake, fortune and duty, your father’s estate [175] and your father’s regard. ”

“ But he would have been very glad to marry a woman with money, provided he could think her the first of women, and worthy to rule in the halls of his race. That he should love her was a secondary necessity. Sir Kenrick was not a young man who considered loving and being beloved essential to the happiness of life. Nature had made him of colder stuff than his cousin Cyril. He could do very well without love, but existence could hardly be tolerable to him without Culverhouse Castle.
He thought of Beatrix Harefield as he paced the long tapestried saloon on the evening of his arrival. ”

“ You can afford to despise riches?’
[114]
‘Yes, because I look round me and see how rarely money can bring happiness. Perhaps there is not much real and perfect happiness upon earth; but I am very sure that what little there is has never been bought with gold. Leave your estate away from your daughter—leave it where you please—devote it to some great work. Let me have Beatrix without a sixpence—let me be your son—and if it is possible for affection to brighten your later life you shall not find it wanting.’
‘It is not possible,’ answered Harefield, coldly. ”

“ Kenrick thought of Beatrix Harefield as he walked slowly up and down. How well her stately beauty would become the room! how well the room would become her! She was just the wife for the master of such a place as Culverhouse. It seemed a hard thing that honour forbade his putting himself forward as her suitor.
‘How do I know that she cares for Cyril?’ he asked himself; ‘and if she does not, why should not I have my chance? Cyril is such a close fellow. I don’t know how far things have gone between them. She may not care a straw for him. ”

“ Let us wait a few years, love, and if time and experience confirm your present purpose, most proudly and gladly will I take my darling to my heart, free from the splendid burden of wealth. Let us wait at least till you are of age, and then, if you are still true to your purpose of to-day, you will be justified in choosing for yourself. No father has the right to impose his wishes upon a child where a life’s [177] happiness or misery is at stake, but he has the right to do his uttermost to prevent an unwise choice. Your father has done me the injustice to think me a fortune-hunter. ”

“ It is so delightful to feel one’s self the providence of one’s neighbours. Poor Mrs. Dulcimer’s mind was distracted during the rest of the service. This notion about Cyril was one of those splendid ideas which take hold of the female mind with over-mastering [50] power, like a brilliant scheme for turning a silk dress, or making up last year’s exploded bonnet into the latest fashionable shape for this year. Vainly did the busy soul try to pin her mind to the Prayer-book. She could not get her thoughts away from the suitability of a match between Cyril and Bella. ”

“ He had liked the neighbourhood as a lad. [24] He loved it now for the sake of those boyish days which were so delightful to look back upon—all the lights in the picture remembered, all the shadows forgotten. He had an almost filial affection for Mr. and Mrs. Dulcimer—and the hills and moors and wandering streams of Yorkshire had a charm for him which was second only to his delight in his native Hampshire. ”

“ Dulcimer, contemplating them benignantly from the vicarage pew, thought what a pretty pair they made, and wondered whom she could pitch upon as a husband for Bella. The poor little thing ought to be married. She was not a great heiress like Beatrix, but it was not the less incumbent upon some good-natured friend to find her a husband—nay, it was a Christian duty to do so. ”

“ She pictured herself in that ideal vicarage, with the only man she had ever admired for her husband. She was thinking of him all through the confusion of tea-time—the clinking of tea-spoons and rattling of cups—the spilling of tea—an inevitable feature in every Scratchell tea party—the fuss about the kettle, with much argumentation between Mrs. Scratchell and the maid of all work as to whether it boiled or did not boil—the scrambling for crusts, [152] and general squabbling—through all she was thinking of Cyril’s earnest face—hearing his thrilling voice close at her ear. ”