Cicely

“ But, mamma, I wish I had had a brother—then I should have been able to choose my own life; not to marry at all, very likely.”
“Cicely, you make me unhappy when you speak so,” said her mother gravely. “You have been left free to choose. Your father and I approve of your marriage to Trevor, but it was not forced upon you. You do not wish to draw back from it, surely? If you do, however it may disappoint us, it will be far better for you to say so. Cicely, my dear child, you frighten me.” ”

“ And when Cicely Methvyn, as she could not but do sometimes, glanced forward at her future life as mistress of this rich domain. When she thought of the days that must come, the days when her free, unfettered, girl life would be a thing of the past; when father and mother, already grey haired and ageing, would be further from their darling than the few miles which separated Greystone from Lingthurst,—when she looked forward to these things, sometimes Cicely’s heart failed her; why, she knew not. But a vague wish would arise that Trevor had been her brother ”

“ Over and over again during the three quarters of an hour’s drive from Lingthurst these bitter thoughts chased each other round Cicely’s excited brain. The practical results of her discovery, the explanation she must come to with Trevor, what she must say to her parents, how they would look upon Geneviève—all these points she as yet forgot to consider. Extreme misery makes even the best of us selfish for the time. In Cicely’s nature there was no lack of magnanimity, but the first instinct of the victim is not to heap coals of fire upon the head of him whose hand has dealt the cruel blow. ”

“ Are you sure you understand yourself, Cicely? You speak of wishing you had difficulties and obstacles to face, but yet you shrink from any change in your life?”
“It is different,” said Cicely. “There will be no scope for my energies, mother, in my new life. Living at Lingthurst will be ever so much smoother and more luxurious than here even! I shall have no house-keeping, no responsibilities. Of course I shall try to be like a daughter to Trevor’s parents, but I shall always be wishing they were you and papa, and fancying you want me. We shall be so dreadfully rich! ”

“ Guildford left them, Geneviève went out into the garden, and the mother and daughter were alone.
“Don’t you think that what I said is very evident now, Cicely?” asked Mrs. Methvyn.
“What?” said Cicely absently, listlessly raising her eyes, “what was it that you said, mother?”
“About Geneviève—about Mr. Guildford’s admiring her. Don’t you remember?” said Mrs. Methvyn impatiently.
Oh, yes! I dare say it is so. I have no doubt he admires her. Everybody does. It is not only her face; she is lovable and womanly and gentle; everything I am not,” exclaimed Cicely with most unaccustomed bitterness. ”

“ Methvyn, kissing her again, and Geneviève hastened away.
“How I have mistaken her, the poor, dear child!” thought Cicely’s mother. “I had no idea she was capable of such an amount of feeling. What a loving little creature she is!”
And Cicely was told of her cousin’s unexpected display of affection for her, and felt vexed with herself that she could not help thinking it a little ill-timed and uncalled for.
It is a mistake to suppose that suffering must be noble to be genuine and severe. ”

“ My theories,” he said, with a smile. “I thought I could keep Love in its place. It never struck me that Love may be a master, not in the sense of a tyrant, but of a teacher. But I shall be an apt pupil now. Cicely, I love you with heart and soul, and mind and conscience approve. It is the best of me that loves you, my darling—I understand now how such love can be called divine, and I feel that it must be immortal.” ”

“ Cicely shows him neither more nor less favor than she has done all her life, treats him with the same careless sisterly regard, smiles when she welcomes him, but does not sigh when she bids him good-by, and betrays no annoyance, pain, or pettishness when he flirts in her presence, any more than when his love for Pauline was at its fever height. ”

“ Cicely, in the midst of her trepidation, perceived that Diccon was among the gentlemen pensioners who made a lane from the landing to receive them, as she was handed along by M. de Bellievre. In the hall there was a pause, during which the mufflings were thrown off, and Cicely appeared in her simple black, a great contrast to her cavalier, who was clad from neck to knee in pale pink satin, quilted, and with a pearl at each intersection, earrings in his ears, perfumed and long-fringed gloves in his hand—a perfect specimen of the foppery of the Court of France. ”

“ Not so with Cicely. A cold woman, people called her. Beautiful, brilliant, with a brain that had but to be touched to respond, but with feelings scarcely ever aroused.
But to-night Cicely's feelings had been aroused. Something tender and unfamiliarly maternal had stolen over her as she had sat on the couch beside Sheilah, and held her hand. Sheilah on her part had felt something tender for Cicely. A little of that nearly forgotten, young-girl infatuation for Cicely had swept over Sheilah, as Cicely had risen to say good-bye. ”

“ Every seamstress in the room bent forward with an exclamation of pleasure as the piece of dress-goods was unrolled. It was a soft, shimmering silk, whose creamy surface was covered [19] with rosebuds, as dainty and pink as if they had been blown across it from some June garden. Cicely caught her breath with a little gasp of delight, and thought again of the sweet face that had smiled on her. Miss Balfour would look like a rose herself in such a dress.
The next day Cicely saw the cutter at work on it, and then the forewoman distributed the various parts into different hands. ”

“ Not constantly,” replied Cicely. “I am sorry if Geneviève is dull,” she added regretfully.
“I wish that she had children,” said Madame Casalis.
“Yes,” said Cicely, “when people have children I cannot understand their ever being dull. I remember mamma telling me what a comfort my sister Amiel was to her long ago, when she was lonely and unhappy. She must have been very unhappy during her first husband’s life. Did you ever see her then, Aunt Caroline?”
Madame Casalis shook her head. “No,” she said, “I knew her as a girl, but not again till she was married to your father. ”

“ Mr. Fawcett’s face had grown grave. “Vexed with you,” he repeated, “of course not. Why should I be? At least I am only vexed with you for one thing. I hate all this—I detest it. I only wish you and I had been married months ago; by this time we should have been away somewhere by ourselves with no one to interfere with us. As it is, I never seem to see you now, Cicely; I don’t know how it is.”
The sunshine seemed to have crept back again,—a somewhat uncertain, tremulous light, but sunshine for all that. “Dear Trevor,” said Cicely softly, “there is not really any change. ”

“ Cicely’s voice faltered. “Wait till morning, Nancy, do.”
“I can’t wait till morning,” Nancy said; and Cicely knew she had been crying by the sound of her voice. “I must go now.”
“Then I’ll go too,” sighed Cicely, loyal, though her heart balked at the idea of braving this American wilderness in the dead of night.
The two girls slipped moccasins on their bare feet and threw on their dressing-gowns; then stole out of the tent into the moonlight, which silvered everything with a magic touch. The whole lit-up world looked wonderfully beautiful. ”

“ The pastor’s daughter was looking so bright and so very pretty, she seemed so wonderfully at home among the luxuries and splendours of Lingthurst, that Cicely found it difficult to realise the novelty and strangeness of the girl’s position. They all made so much of her; Sir Thomas was evidently struck by her beauty, and Lady Frederica, who prided herself a good deal on her “foreign travels,” and smattering of French and Italian, kept up a constant, gentle chatter about Hivèritz and Paris, and the charms of continental life, as if Geneviève were a little princess travelling incognita. ”

“ Some pictures—a few in a lifetime only—take far less time than our clumsy words can express to imprint themselves for ever on the brain. This was one of them. Through all the chequered future, through happy days and “days of cloudy weather,” in her presence or absent from her, Edmond Guildford never forgot this first vision of Cicely Methvyn, pale, grave Cicely, standing there for a fairy’s moment, in her brilliant crimson dress. ”

“ Cicely kissed and hugged him, held him off at arm's length to see how well he looked, and then kissed him again. His father was not one whit behind, and even Anne warmed up for once and was almost genial. Jack thought her looking much worse than when he left home. She was paler and thinner than ever, and her eyes had a frightened, almost a guilty, expression. As soon as he was alone with Cicely, he began to question her about his sister.
"Well, she is much as usual, poor thing," said Cicely. "No great comfort to any one, nor yet to herself, poor dear. ”

“ How clever you are, Cicely! You know nearly everything. Why do you say 'humanly speaking possible?'"
"Because you've always made him out as cold as a fish and as hard as iron," said Cicely. "He may be one of the few men who won't yield to vanity or fancy."
"I see," said Stella. "It's not very nice of you to want Eurydice to marry an iron fish. But, as a matter of fact, I'm not quite so certain about Mr. Travers. The iron and the fish are only on the top. I think, humanly speaking, he's quite possible. I'm going to sleep now. When you've made up your mind about Amberley you can wake me up." ”

“ Methvyn. “I don’t feel easy about your father. He is doing far too much. How do you think he is looking this morning, Cicely?”
“Pretty well,” replied Cicely. “What time do you think Mr. Guildford will be here, mother?”
“Early—before luncheon, I fancy,” said Mrs. Methvyn. “You will not be out today when he comes, my dear?”
“Oh! no,” said Cicely. “I wish I knew what time he will be coming,” she thought to herself, “I would walk part of the way to meet him.” ”

“ She is ‘at Rome’ now, and they must take the consequences of sending her there.”
“I am not dictating anything to Geneviève,” said Cicely more gently; “she must judge for herself. As to my own feeling about it, I confess to you, Trevor, I would have much preferred not taking part in anything of the kind at present, but—”
“But what?” said Mr. Fawcett.
“If you wish it, I will try to dismiss the feeling I have,” she answered.
“If I wish it. Cicely, you speak as if I were an unfeeling tyrant. It is not fair to me, upon my soul it isn’t,” said Trevor, working himself up into vexation. ”

“ But Cicely did not observe it, nor did she take any notice of Geneviève’s remark. She turned to Parker and began giving her directions for the altering of the dresses that had been selected as most suitable for her cousin, Geneviève’s quick eyes and fingers meantime making voyages of discovery among the finery.
“What is this?” she exclaimed, drawing out a dress of a rich crimson colour, which was hanging in a remote corner of the wardrobe, “Velvet! Du velours de soie—et quel teint superbe! Why, it is a dress for a queen! Cicely, what a beautiful dress; it is far the most beautiful of all.” ”

“ Then Geneviève said no more. Her head was in a whirl of feelings which she dared not express. She could scarcely credit her own happiness, she did not know if it were wicked of her to feel happy. She was afraid of seeming to pity Cicely, or even of expressing anything of the admiration and gratitude she could not but be conscious that her cousin deserved. So she sat beside her in silence, crying quietly, till after a time a new idea struck her.
“Cicely,” she said, “what will they all say? Sir Thomas and Lady Frederica, and my aunt. Will they not be very angry?” ”

“ You have missed some one,” said Geneviève, “Mr. Guildford has been here.”
“Oh! I am so sorry; I wanted to see him!” exclaimed Cicely. “Why would he not stay?”
“He saw my uncle,” said Geneviève shortly. “That was what he came for. I told him where you were; he left no message.”
“I didn’t expect any message,” said Cicely, not quite understanding Geneviève’s curious tone.
“Yes, you did,” answered the girl bitterly, “or you expected him to wait for the chance of seeing you. You think you are to be queen of all—if you are there no one must have a word, a glance! ”

“ Then again, there were moments when Cicely's rosy bloom reminded her bitterly of the child she had lost—the son on whom her ambitions had been fixed. It seemed to her now that if their boy had lived she might have kept Amherst's [p 259] love and have played a more important part in his life; and brooding on the tragedy of the child's sickly existence she resented the contrast of Cicely's brightness and vigour. ”

“ Guildford was not a little elated at the success of his new mode of treatment. Long, long afterwards Cicely looked back with pleasure on that bright morning in the copse, and felt warm gratitude to the man whose care and kindness had enabled her suffering father to enjoy again a breath of the out-door life he had loved so well. ”

“ There was a dull listlessness in her tone which attracted Cicely’s attention.
“Geneviève,” she said, looking at her with some anxiety as she spoke, “you don’t look happy. And at breakfast-time you seemed so bright, I hoped you had quite got over your low spirits. And now you look so dull again! What is it, dear?”
The ever-ready tears filled Geneviève’s eyes. She half turned away, as if to hide them.
“It is nothing,” she said, but with no abruptness in her tone. ”