Branscombe

“ It is one of May's divinest efforts,—a day to make one glad and feel that it is well to be alive. Yet Branscombe, walking through this fairy glen, though conscious of its beauty, is conscious, too, that in his heart he knows a want not to be satisfied until Fate shall again bring him face to face with the girl with whom he had parted so unamicably the night before. ”

“ Branscombe,—at which they both laugh.
"Come home," says Dorian: "it grows cold as charity, and I'm getting desperately hungry besides. Are you?"
"I'm starving," says Georgie, genially. "There, now; they say people never want to eat anything when they are in love and when they are filled with joy. And I haven't been hungry for weeks, until this very moment."
"Just shows what awful stuff some fellows will talk," says Mr. Branscombe, with an air of very superior contempt. After which they go on their homeward journey until they reach the shrubbery. ”

“ Branscombe, coloring warmly, merely from surprise. "You are like Sir Boyle Roche's bird: you can be in two places at the same moment. But it is wrong to give him money when he is bad. It is out of all keeping; and how shall I manage the children if you come here, anxious to reward vice and foster rebellion?"
She is laughing gayly now, and is looking almost her own bright little self again, when, lifting her eyes, she sees Dorian watching her. Instantly her smile fades; and she returns his gaze fixedly, as though compelled to do it by some hidden instinct. ”

“ A faint sneer disfigures his handsome mouth for a moment. Then his mood changes, and he turns almost fiercely upon Georgie. "Why will you fight against your own good fortune?" he says. "See how it is favoring you. You will get rid of me for years, perhaps—I hope—forever, and you will be comfortable with him."
"No, I shall not," says Mrs. Branscombe, a brilliant crimson has grown upon her pale cheeks, her eyes are bright and full of anger, she stands back from him and looks at him with passionate reproach and determination in her gaze. ”

“ Branscombe goes with him, and so presently, Clarissa and Horace find themselves alone.
Horace, going up to her, as in duty bound, places his arm round her, and presses his lips lightly, gently, to her cheek.
"You never wished me a happy Christmas," he says, in the low soft tone he always adopts when speaking to women. "You gave all your best wishes to Dorian." ”

“ He is watching her closely, and his brow has contracted a good deal, and his lips show some pain.
"I have made up my mind to nothing. Perhaps I haven't one to make up,"—lightly. "But I hate teaching, and I hate being poor. That is all. But we were not talking of that. We were thinking of Mr. Hastings. At all events, you must confess he reads well, and that is something! Almost everybody reads badly."
"They do," says Branscombe, meekly. "I do. Unless in words of one syllable, I can't read at all. So the curate has the pull over me there. Indeed, I begin to feel myself nowhere beside the curate. ”

“ Branscombe turns away with a precipitancy that plainly betokens hot haste to be gone. He walks quickly in the home direction, and gets as far as the curve in the glen without once looking back. So far the hot haste lasts, and is highly successful; then it grows cooler; the first deadly heat dies away, and, as it goes, his steps grow slower and still slower. A severe struggle with pride ensues, in which pride goes to the wall, and then he comes to a standstill. ”

“ At this moment a servant throws open the hall door and Dorian and Horace Branscombe, coming in, walk up to where they are, near the huge pine fire that is roaring and making merry on the hearth-stone; no grate defiles the beauty of the Gowran hall. They are flushed from the rapidity of their walk, and are looking rather more like each other than usual. ”

“ At the signal, the key of the firing-battery was pressed home.
"Bon voyage, Fritz!" murmured Branscombe, as with an ear-splitting report a column of mingled smoke and foam rose quite two hundred feet into the air.
With her helm hard a-port the M.-L. circled rapidly to starboard, and, steadying, passed at slow speed through the patch of agitated water. One of the crew made ready to let go the mark-buoy to indicate the position of the sunken U-boat. He waited for the order, but Branscombe gave no word of command. Gripping the stanchion-wires, the Sub leant over the side and watched. ”

“ Only a very few brave men, among whom is Mr. Kennedy, who is staying with the Luttrels, give it as their opinion that Branscombe is a downright lucky fellow and has got the handsomest wife in the neighborhood.
Towards the close of July, contrary to expectation, Mr. and Mrs. Branscombe return to Pullingham, and, in spite of censure, and open protest, are literally inundated with cards from all sides.
The morning after her return, Georgie drives down to Gowran, to see Clarissa, and tell her "all the news," as she declares in her first breath. ”

“ Branscombe so much," says Georgie, a little later on, when Dorian has disappeared. They have forsaken their late game, and are now in Clarissa's own [Pg 158] room, standing in a deep oriel window that overlooks the long sweep of avenue on one side, and the parterre beneath where early spring flowers are gleaming wet with the rain that fell so heavily an hour ago.
"Every one likes Dorian," says Clarissa, pleasantly, but without her usual warmth when speaking of Branscombe. "He is a general favorite, and I think he knows it. He is like a spoiled child ”

“ Burgoyne gasped.
"Thought I told her to shove on Mostyn's kit," he exclaimed. "Don't you see, she'll have to—to keep with the engine-room crowd."
"Jolly sight safer," declared Branscombe. "She'd attract attention with the few of us who are left. Her father agreed with me. 'Sides, all hands know, and they're white men, every man jack of 'em." ”

“ The past—that is, her happy past—seems gone; the present is full of grief; the future has nothing to offer. This fact comes to her, and, with her eyes full of tears, she turns the corner and finds herself face to face with Horace Branscombe.
The old smile is on his face; he comes to her and holds out both his hands to take hers. He is worn and thin, and very handsome. ”

“ The while the Vindictive was subjected to a terrifically hot fire. The after-control had been completely demolished, killing every man in it. The upper works were literally shattered, while the decks were littered with debris and the bodies of slain and wounded men.
"Don't move, old man!" exclaimed Branscombe, who had returned to his chum. "The order's given to abandon ship. I'll stand by you right enough."
"You've been hit," said Seton, as he caught sight of a dark, gradually-increasing stain on the right side of Branscombe's jumper.
"Machine-gun bullet copped me," replied Branscombe. ”

“ There were such a number of roses in full blossom!
‘We walked a little way into Branscombe parish, and there was a big stone, and Mary told us that it was there to show where Salcombe and Branscombe met. It was so funny for Beatrice and me to jump in and out of Salcombe! How can people divide places?’
114‘Places or parishes or countries that cannot be divided by water must be divided by landmarks. These landmarks are sometimes large stones, sometimes an old tree, or a line of trees, or a wooden post; but water divides the best. ”

“ Clad in a sweater, flannel trousers, and an oilskin—gear that he had annexed from the M.-L.'s ward-room—Seton was indefatigable in his efforts to assist Branscombe to save the ship. At his suggestion oil was thrown overboard to quell the effect of the rapidly-rising waves, while a rough-and-ready sea-anchor was rigged up and thrown over the bows to keep her stem-on to the vicious, crested breakers. ”

“ For a second, Branscombe refuses to meet his wife's eyes, then, conquering the momentary feeling of pained disappointment, he turns to her, and says, gently,—
"Do you care to stay much longer? Clarissa has gone, and Scrope, and the Carringtons."
"I don't care to stay another minute: I should like to go home now," says Georgie, slipping her hand through his arm, as though glad to have something to lean on; and, as she speaks, she lifts her face and bestows upon him a small smile. It is a very dear little smile, and has the effect of restoring him to perfect happiness again. ”

“ The views ahead, which include the striking conical peak called "Creech Barrow," are of increasing beauty, and when we approach the break between the long range of Knowle Hill and Branscombe Hill, the strikingly fine picture of Corfe Castle filling the gap makes an unforgettable scene. Just before reaching the hillock upon which the castle stands, and three and a half miles from Wareham, a road turns left, crossing the railway, and winds by the northern face of Nine Barrows Down to Studland. ”

“ Lady Patricia is not the only one enthralled by the beautiful singer. Dorian Branscombe has never once removed his eyes from her face: he is as one bewitched, and, even at this early moment, wonders vaguely within himself what can be the meaning of the strange pleasure, that is so near akin to pain, that is tugging at his heart-strings.
Lord Alfred, too, is plainly impressed, and stares at the pretty creature with the black gown and the snowy arms, until speech becomes a necessity. ”

“ To the vicar's intense chagrin, Dorian Branscombe is absent,—has, indeed, been up in town since the day before Georgie Broughton's arrival, now a fortnight old.
Dorian would have been such a comfort! Not that he sings, or plays, or fiddles, or, indeed, does anything in particular, beyond cajoling the entire neighborhood; but that, as it happens, is, in this case, everything. To cajole, to entreat, to compel the people to come in and fill the empty benches, is all the vicar would require at his hands.
And Dorian could do all this. No one ever refuses him anything. ”

“ Branscombe, at first intense wonder renders her motionless; and then, as the exact meaning of this terrible story breaks in upon her, a great and glorious gleam of unmistakable rapture lights all her face, and, sinking upon a prie-Dieu near her, she presses her hands tightly together. That Dorian is exonerated, is her first thought; that he will never forgive her, is her second; and this drives all the blood from her cheeks, and the gladness from her heart, and brings her back again to the emptiness and barrenness that have made life a wilderness to her for so many months. ”

“ She pauses.
"Are you in trouble, dearest?" says Mrs. Branscombe, sadly. "I thought you the happiest girl alive. Is there nothing but misery in this wretched world?"
"I was in town yesterday," Clarissa begins, with an effort, and then stops. How is she to betray her lover's falseness?
"And you saw Horace, and he is ill?" says Georgie, anxiously. "Tell me all, Clarissa."
"It is so hard to tell," says poor Clarissa; and then she turns her face to the wall, and wishes honestly that all things for her might now be at an end:
"Love, art thou bitter? ”

“ The heat has made her pale and languid; but just at this moment a faint delicate color springs into her face; and as the figure of a young man, tall and broad-shouldered, turns the corner of the road, she raises her hand to her cheek with a swift involuntary gesture. A moment later, as the figure comes closer, so near that the face is discernible, she pales again, and grows white as an early snow drop.
"Good-morning, Ruth," says Dorian Branscombe, with a smile, apparently oblivious of the fact that morning has given place to noon many hours agone. ”

“ Branscombe, however, was an exception.
“Well,” said the doctor, “it’s a pity. A mother’s the proper person to be with him a time like this. She’ll never— What’s this?”
It was an envelope slipped behind the bookcase, containing a bill from Splicer, the London cricket-bat-maker, dated a year ago. At the foot the tradesman had written, “Hon. sir, sorry we could not get bat in time to send home, so forward to you direct to Grandcourt School, by rail.” ”

“ There is fine, rough walking up over the cliffs past the coastguard station of Branscombe, or down by the sandy shingle to Littlecombe Shoot and Weston Mouth, where the landsprings well out of the marly cliff-sides and petrify everything within reach. At the cost of scaling some of the buttery slides of red mud, and becoming more or less smothered with an ochreous mess resembling anchovy paste, it is possible to find most interesting examples of petrified moss and blackberry brambles ”

“ On the formation of the Motor Boat Reserve he had joined on as an ordinary deckhand, but it was not long before his experience and ability gained him a commission.
His sub, Guy Branscombe, has already been introduced.
Every man of the crew was an amateur yachtsman. In private life they were respectively barrister, mining engineer, Manchester merchant, two ex-public schoolboys, a stockbroker, and a bank clerk. ”

“ As for the vicar, he is—as Miss Georgie tells him, even without a blush—"simply adorable;" and the children are sweet good-natured little souls, true-hearted and earnest, to whom the loss of an empire would be as dross in comparison with the gain of a friend.
They are young!
To Dorian Branscombe, Miss Broughton is "a thing of beauty, and a joy forever; her loveliness increases" each moment, rendering her more dear. Perhaps he himself hardly knows how dear she is to his heart, though day after day he haunts the vicarage, persecuting the vicar with parochial business of an outside sort. ”

“ As she hears him coming, she starts to her feet, and, turning aside, hastily dries the tears upon her cheeks, lest he shall mark her agitation.
"What is the matter with you?" asks he, with quick but suppressed concern.
"Nothing," returns she, in a low tone.
"You can't be crying for nothing," says Dorian; "and even your very voice is full of tears! Are you unhappy about anything?"
"What a question to ask me!" says Mrs. Branscombe, reproachfully, with a fresh irrepressible sob, that goes to his heart. He shifts his gun uneasily from one shoulder to the other, hardly knowing what to say. ”