Miss Bertram

“ Ah, Sir Bertram, I am ashamed; but—but—truly 'twas overhard——" Bertram came and gripped Denis's hand.
"Denis, what man dare blame?" he said, "Not I, faith! nor any man that hath loved." Then he laughed. "Pardi, what hurt have I? And——" Some sound came from without—the dull tramp of feet, the clatter of steel. Bertram ran to the narrow slit that served for window. The crag was alive with men. ”

“ The Miss Bertrams were now fully established among the belles of the neighbourhood; and as they joined to beauty and brilliant acquirements a manner naturally easy, and carefully formed to general civility and obligingness, they possessed its favour as well as its admiration. Their vanity was in such good order that they seemed to be quite free from it, and gave themselves no airs; while the praises attending such behaviour, secured and brought round by their aunt, served to strengthen them in believing they had no faults.
Lady Bertram did not go into public with her daughters. ”

“ George Bertram found himself seated next to a lady-like well-dressed Englishwoman of the middle age, whom he heard called Miss Baker; and next to her again sat—an angel! whom Miss Baker called Caroline, and whom an odious man sitting on the other side of her called Miss Waddington.
All my readers will probably at different times have made part of a table-d'hôte assemblage; and most of them, especially those who have travelled with small parties, will know how essential it is to one's comfort to get near to pleasant neighbours. ”

“ Here, Bertram, do I often stand on the giddy precipice; and I look down upon the dread tranquillity of the spectacle; and then often I feel as though I wanted no friend; as though nature, the mighty mother, were a sufficient friend that fulfilled all my wishes--a friend far better and wiser than any which the false world can offer. But, Bertram, come a little further! ”

“ It was five years after that night in Eaton Square when George Bertram again asked her—her who had once been Caroline Waddington—to be his wife. But, sweet ladies, sweetest, fairest maidens, there were no soft, honey words of love then spoken; no happy, eager vows, which a novelist may repeat, hoping to move the soft sympathy of your bosoms. It was a cold, sad, dreary matter that offer of his; her melancholy, silent acquiescence, and that marriage in Hadley church, at which none were present but Adela and Arthur, and Miss Baker. ”

“ There was no grief in the question, only a quiet respect. Death clothes the most volatile with a garment of awe. Bertram slowly shook his head. “No,” said he, “I came at once up stairs.”
“There is no mark on her white body, save the least little discolored dent here,” continued his uncle, pointing calmly to his temple. “She had one moment of fear while the horses ran, and then—” He gave a quick shudder and advancing towards Bertram, laid his hand on his nephew’s shoulder in such a way as to prevent him from turning his head. “Bertram,” said he, “I have no son. ”

“ Bertram's disgust at the tyranny which has made his freedom the payment of another's debt, which has united him to a woman whose merits are not towards him—whose secret love, and long-enduring faith, are yet unknown and untried—might well make his bride distasteful to him. He flies her on the very day of their marriage, most like a wilful, haughty, angry boy, but not like a profligate. ”

“ Between each prayer there rose another sound, the strangest, most terrible sound of a human kind that Bertram had ever heard beyond a battlefield. It was the wailing of women. It was like the cry of the Banshee, as he had imagined it with horror in childhood. It rose and fell in rhythmic anguish, from all those shawl-covered women, kneeling with bowed heads, or raising their heads and hands like a Greek chorus, to the heavens above. The search-light moved above them, touched their white hands, searched along the line of upturned faces, seemed to search their souls and reveal their passion. ”

“ There is nothing, Miss Waddington, to equal the sweetness of a mother's kisses."
"I never knew them," said she. "But I have found an aunt's do nearly as well."
"A grandmother's are not bad," said Bertram, looking very grave.
"I can never think of my mother without emotion," continued Mr. M'Gabbery. "I remember, as though it were yesterday, when I first stood at her knee, with a picture-book on her lap before me. It is the furthest point to which memory carries me—and the sweetest."
"I can remember back much before that," said George; "a great deal before that. Listen to this, Miss Baker. ”

“ He interests himself in her pursuits, devises little pleasures for her, directs her taste in readings and, as a reward for the affection and care he bestows upon her through the next five or six years, he makes her by degrees a very lovable and charming compaion—far more like a sister to him than the highly accomplished Maria or Julia ever can be.
Edmund Bertram himself is an excellent specimen of a cultivated, thoughtful, right-minded young Englishman, not brilliant, but with plenty of sense, thoroughly good and trustworthy. ”

“ If you admire her so much, I shall beg you not to come to Littlebath any more."
"Perhaps I had better not. But, Bertram, I beg to congratulate you most heartily. There is this against your future happiness—"
"What?"
"Why, you will never be known as Mr. George Bertram; but always as Mrs. George Bertram's husband. With such a bride-elect as that, you cannot expect to stand on your own bottom. If you can count on being lord-chancellor, or secretary of state, you may do so; otherwise, you'll always be known as an appendage."
"Oh, I'll put up with that misery." ”

“ They now live together very quietly, very soberly, but yet happily. They have not Adela's blessings. No baby lies in Caroline's arms, no noisy boy climbs on the arm of George Bertram's chair. Their house is childless, and very, very quiet; but they are not unhappy.
Reader, can you call to mind what was the plan of life which Caroline Waddington had formed in the boldness of her young heart? Can you remember the aspirations of George Bertram, as he sat upon the Mount of Olives, watching the stones of the temple over against him? ”

“ They lay piled up on sacks and bags, and across each other’s legs and arms, in a tangled mass of sheepskins, rags, and mangy fur, all brown with mud and dirt as though they had been dipped in the slime of Flanders, as Bertram had known it in war-time winters. It was nightfall, and they were settling down to sleep, restlessly, so that there was a heaving of bodies, and a tossing of arms. Some slept with stertorous breathing. Children wailed. Girls who were almost women lay in the arms of bearded men. One man lay dead among the living, as Bertram saw at a glance, not unfamiliar with death. ”

“ Bertram with interest.
"How late these fashionable people are," quote Miss Peters. "It's absolutely five o'clock. My dear Martha, do sit down and rest yourself. You look fit to drop. I'll keep an eye on the door and tell you the very moment Mrs. Bertram comes in. Mrs. Gorman Stanley has promised to introduce us. Mrs. Gorman Stanley was fortunate enough to find Mrs. Bertram in. It was she who told us about the drawing-room at the Manor. Fancy! Mrs. Bertram has only a felt carpet on her drawing-room. Not even a red felt, which looks warm and wears. But a sickly green! ”

“ It wasn't good for Bertram. He's got the confounded temperament that goes with his talent, I suppose—though why a man can't paint a picture, or sing a song, and keep his temper and a level head I don't see!”
“He can,” cut in Arkwright, with curt emphasis.
“Humph! Well, that's what I think. But, about this marriage business. Bertram admires a pretty face wherever he sees it—to paint, and always has. ”

“ She sees the image of Sir Bertram's face!
"O Bertram! dear Sir Bertram! God be thanked,"
She cries, "that Bertram will be lord of me!"
And then she sees TWO faces in the well!
Her own, and his! An arm steals 'round her waist!
Startled, she turns, and swoons in Bertram's arms! ”

“ Even if we were not in trouble to-day, as we are, it would make no difference. I am sure Mr. Bertram is excellent and amiable, but I do not—I cannot—I hope Fitzwilliam will not be angry, but I dislike the idea so very much."
"If that is so, my dear Georgiana, you shall not be tormented about it any more. I do not know if I am glad or sorry, it has all happened so quickly, but it is right that you should judge for yourself. Mr. Bertram will be greatly disappointed, still, that cannot be helped. I suppose I am to be deputed to get rid of the poor man."
"If you would be so very kind, Elizabeth." ”

“ He can't make you happy, my dear, and you can't make him happy. Bertram never was—and never will be—a marrying man. He's too temperamental—too thoroughly wrapped up in his Art. Girls have never meant anything to him but a beautiful picture to paint. And they never will. They can't. He's made that way. Listen! I can prove it to you. Up to this winter he's always been a care-free, happy, jolly fellow, and you know what beautiful work he has done. Never before has he tied himself to any one girl till last fall. ”

“ At a word of command, the dogs settled down to watch wistfully for the end of their vigil, and Sir Bertram, admitted by an elderly and ungracious-looking domestic, entered the little hall, where he laid his hat and stick upon an oak chest, and afterwards passed into the long, low room, the door of which the maid had opened. A woman lying upon a couch held out both her hands; long, beautiful hands, ringless and almost transparently white. He raised them to his lips and drew a chair to her side. ”

“ No one could be more affectionate than aunt Mary, no one more trustworthy, no one more thoroughly devoted to another than she was to her niece. But then she was not only old, but old-fashioned. She was prudent, and Caroline also was prudent; but their prudence was a different kind. There was no dash, no ambition about aunt Mary's prudence. She was rather humdrum, Caroline thought; and, which was worse, though she liked George Bertram, she did not seem to understand his character at all in the same light as that in which Caroline regarded it. ”

“ Lady Bertram cannot do without someone at hand to help and advise her continually. The Miss Bertrams do not care for the society of their mother, who has never interested herself in any of their pursuits; and, therefore, while they enter into all the society of the county under Mrs. Norris's chaperonage, Fanny spends her hours quietly at home, delighted to be unnoticed and of use.
Just as his children are alt grown up, Sir Thomas Bertram is obliged to go to the West Indies to see about some of his property there ”

“ She had for some weeks past begun to think the day tedious in which she did not see him; and now it was driven in upon her mind that conversation was a much pleasanter occupation than whist; that is, conversation with so highly-polished a man as Sir Lionel Bertram. But, nevertheless, she did not quite understand what he meant, nor did she know how she ought to answer it. Why need she answer him at all? Could she not sit there, wiping her eyes softly and comfortably, and listen to what might come next?
"I sometimes think that some women never love," said Sir Lionel. ”

“ William is—let me see—nearly forty-five, I guess, by this time; and he isn't a marrying man. He buried his heart with his wife and baby years ago. Cyril, according to Bertram, 'hates women and all other confusion,' so that ought to let him out. As for Bertram himself—Bertram is 'only Bertram.' He's always been that. Bertram loves girls—to paint; but I can't imagine him making serious love to any one. It would always be the tilt of a chin or the turn of a cheek that he was admiring—to paint. ”

“ For Wilkinson clearly conceived it to be impossible that Bertram should really intend to marry this widow.
"And why should I not marry her?" said George.
"She would not suit you, nor make you happy."
"What right have I to think that any woman will suit me? or what chance is there that any woman will make me happy? Is it not all leather and prunella? She is pretty and clever, soft and feminine. Where shall I find a nicer toy to play with? You forget, Arthur, that I have had my day-dreams, and been roused from them somewhat roughly. With you, the pleasure is still to come." ”

“ Though Bertram did not like the marriage forced on him by the king, it seems he was not insensible to love, for since he had been stationed with the army at Florence, he had fallen in love with Diana, a fair young gentlewoman, the daughter of this widow who was Helena's hostess ”

“ In the last act Bertram is at his side again, trying to induce him to sign the fatal compact. The strains of sacred music which he hears, and the recollections of his mother, restrain him. In desperation Bertram announces himself as his fiend-father. He is about to yield, when Alice appears and reads to him his mother's warning against the fiend's temptation. As he still hesitates, the clock strikes, and the spell is over. Bertram disappears, and the scene changes to the cathedral, where Isabella in her wedding robes awaits the saved Robert. ”

“ Bertram had sworn by the Highest to love his wife; in his letter to his mother he says:
"I have wedded her, not bedded her, and sworn to make the not eternal:"
he secretly protests to Love to work against his sacred oath; and in his following speech he says:
"Be not so cruel-holy, Love is holy." ”