Miss Dalrymple

“ Did Dalrymple know anything, or was it an instinctive suspicion, or merely the explosion of helpless temper and dislike?
The ride was brief, and the block in which Dalrymple lived was, fortunately, at that moment free of pedestrians. Wandel descended and rang the bell. When the door was opened George relaxed his grasp. Dalrymple tried to spring from the opposite side of the cab. George caught him, lifted him, carried him like a child across the sidewalk, and set him down in the twilight of a hall where a flunky gaped.
"There's your precious friend," he accused Wandel. ”

“ Only the players sat; so Dalrymple stood behind me and looked on. It was a green board, somewhat larger than an ordinary billiard-table, with mysterious boundaries traced here and there in yellow and red, and a cabalistic table of figures towards each end. A couple of well-dressed men sat in the centre; one to deal out the cards, and the other to pay and receive the money. The one who had the management of the cash wore a superb diamond ring, and a red and green ribbon at his button-hole. Dalrymple informed me in a whisper that this noble seigneur was Madame de Ste. ”

“ Dalrymple's dying young, and——"
"Are you speaking of young Robert Dalrymple?"
"No, no, poor fellow: of his father. Mr. Dalrymple did die young, so to say; you can't call a man under fifty old. His death, and his son's close upon it, brought you, sir, to rule over us, and I am sorry to say your rule's a very hard one."
"It will not be made easier," curtly replied Oscar Dalrymple, who was getting angry. "And I will not detain you longer, Mr. Lee," he added, rising. "Your time is valuable."
"And what is to be my answer, sir?" ”

“ I'm getting old now, and my eyesight ain't none of the best, nor my memory nayther. I shouldn't wonder if I'd ought to know you." He peered hard still, blinking a little. "And I'm thinking now as I sees summat. It ain't—surely—Miss Herminy's cousin—young Mr. Dalrymple!"
"I am Harvey Dalrymple," was the reply. "Yes—Miss Hermione's second cousin—or, if you like it, her brother."
"Young Mr. Dalrymple—his very own self!" ejaculated Sutton. "Well, well, sir—I'm glad to see you anyways. ”

“ I will help her with all my heart, if you will only tell me what I am to do."
'"I want you to petition the Queen for her," continued Lady Dalrymple, trying to control herself and speak calmly. "She will listen to you. She cannot deny a husband pleading for his wife. Can she?" And Lady Dalrymple laid her hand on my shoulder, and looked at me for a moment, with an expression in her eyes as if she was not quite sure whether she meant to laugh or cry. It reminded me of the smile with which she had greeted me that night when Sir Harry first presented me to her at Horsemandown ”

“ Dalrymple started and shook himself like a water-dog, as if he would so shake off "the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune."
"Rex est qui metuit nihil!" said he; "but I am a sovereign in bad circumstances, for all that. Heigho! Care will kill a cat. What shall we do with ourselves, old fellow, for the rest of the day?" ”

“ So he stirred restlessly, causing the wicker-work of his chair to utter long creaks, as a vent to his dissatisfaction.
"Would you not like another chair?" asked Hermione, disturbed by the squeaks.
"Thanks—no. This is very comfortable."
Mr. Dalrymple spoke next in quiet tones. "Yes, it is a blessed service," he said. "But the yielding of ourselves is not a matter of one moment's resolving or doing, as some would have us believe. It is a long battle."
"Only there has to be first the yielding of our will, grandfather. We have to give ourselves to Christ ”

“ The younger girl bent in her graceful manner for a kiss, and then sat down near the couch.
"It is a lovely day," she said.
"Too hot for Marjory," Mr. Fitzalan observed. "Mr. Dalrymple was not quite himself this morning, I think, was he?"
"No. It is the worry about Harvey."
Marjory's eyes opened more widely for a glance at her father.
"So Marjie has been saying," he remarked, "But Mr. Dalrymple has not been entirely as he should for some weeks."
Hermione wore an incredulous air. "He is very well and strong generally," she said. "Nothing was wrong with him until Harvey came." ”

“ Suzette--brother Jacques--André, do you hear this? M'sieur, here, swears that he is English, and yet he speaks French like one of ourselves! Ah, what a fine thing learning is!"
"I may say with truth, Madame, that I never appreciate the advantages of education so highly, as when they enable me to converse with ladies who are not my own countrywomen," said Dalrymple, carrying on the conversation with as much studied politeness as if his interlocutor had been a duchess. ”

“ You know very well that a thing right in itself may be wrongly carried out."
The sweet incisive tones paused, for Mr. Dalrymple entered. He looked pale still, yet it was with a smile that he came forward, and laid a hand on the young man's shoulder. To Hermione's surprise there were no tokens of displeasure in his bearing.
"I did not intend to stay so long," he said. "More than an hour, is it not? I must have been asleep, I think. Slade announced callers, but I told him I would rest. My head is strangely heavy this afternoon as if thunder were near. ”

“ Dalrymple's usual hand, and it spoke of the writer feeling very unwell. Then the letter went on something like this, 'You will remember my sweet grandchild, Hermione Rivers. She is lovelier than ever. I can feel no real fear about her future—so attractive as she is, so sure to make friends wherever she goes. But I have to provide for her future. The Westford estate is entailed. I have this morning resolved to leave ten thousand pounds to her!'"
"Now, my dear Miss Rivers, you see!! You see what ought to be yours. ”

“ Of course she is aware of the entail."
"Uncle Harvey is frowning most awfully," murmured Mittie.
"I should never have expected Mr. Dalrymple to leave her unprovided for. It is not as if you had been quite the most attentive and devoted of heirs," Francesca said, with a little laugh.
"Your experience of life has not taught you one thing, seemingly."
"What thing?"
"That people are always doing exactly what nobody would have expected of them." ”

“ The room contained handsome ornaments, as well as valuable oil-paintings, and the furniture was good, though somewhat old, and of a subdued tone of colouring.
"Shall I be recognised? Don't introduce me," Harvey had said outside, and Mr. Dalrymple complied, though he scarcely seemed to hear the words. He crossed slowly to a favourite armchair, absorbed and silent still. ”

“ But in that, he and Paul Griggs were very much alike. They found an element in every acquaintance which roused their distrust, and as men to men they were both [260] equally incapable of making a confidence. Dalrymple's life had not brought him into close relations with any woman except his wife. For her sake he had kept all others at a distance in a strange jealousy of his own heart which had made her for him the only woman in the world. Then, too, he had hated, for her, the curiosity of those who had evidently wished to know her story. ”

“ Pondering thus, I sighed heavily, and the sigh roused Dalrymple's attention.
"Why, Damon," said he, turning over on his elbow, and pushing up his hat to the level of his eyes, "what's the matter with you?"
"Oh, nothing--at least, nothing new."
"Well, new or old, what is it? A man must be either in debt, or in love, when he sighs in that way. You look as melancholy as Werter redivivus!" ”

“ It was Philip at last who spoke. Bending he touched the other's shoulder.
"Come," he said. "Diane must not know."
"No," said Carl dully. "No—she must not know. I—I am not myself, Philip, as God is my witness—" He choked, unable to voice the horror in his heart. A man may not raise the knife of death to his one friend and speak of it with comfort.
Rising, Carl stumbled blindly in the wake of the tall figure striding on ahead. They halted at last at a wigwam on the fringe of the camp. Philip lighted a lantern, his white face fixed and expressionless as stone. ”

“ Dalrymple was riding by his own short cuts through the bush, with his peaked cap drawn over his eyes. His beautiful [302] horse, tall and stately like himself, with glossy dark coat, and a white star on his forehead, paced with long strides through saplings and brushwood, swinging his head slowly up and down on the loose rein with a rhythmical movement that betokened ease of body and content of mind. ”

“ It was streaked with grey, and there were small, nervous lines about his eyes, as well as deep furrows on his forehead and face.
Dalrymple had found in the artist world a man who was something of a companion to him at times,—a very young man, whom he could not understand, though his own dogmatic temper made him as a rule believe that he understood most things and most men. But this particular individual alternately puzzled, delighted, and irritated the nervous Scotchman. ”

“ Mr. Pennant was so kind, he would not object, even should the errand prove to have been unnecessary. But, on the other hand, it was getting late, and most likely there was no need, and Mr. Dalrymple would dislike a fuss; and, besides—besides— why should Harvey manage things? He had behaved so ill—had forfeited all right to interfere. No, she would wait till the morning, and then certainly Mr. Pennant should be summoned, if Mr. Dalrymple were not better.
Hermione wore a reverent manner, but she heard not one word of the psalm which Harvey read, or of the prayer which followed. ”

“ His face grew paler still, and colder, but there was a far-off gleaming in the shadowy eyes, like the glimmer of [330] a light over a lonely plain through the dark. Dalrymple's spirits did not rise, but he talked more and more, and his sentences became long and involved, and sometimes had no conclusion. The wine was telling on him at last. He had never been so strong as Griggs, at his best, and he was no match for him now. The younger man's strangely dual nature seemed to place his head beyond anything which could affect his senses. ”

“ Dalrymple's health, but said with her pretty girlish dignity, "Harvey has behaved very wrongly. I do not wonder that my grandfather is unhappy."
"Has he told you any particulars about the lady of his choice?" asked Mr. Fitzalan, rather anxious to ward off an exciting duet of condemnation between the two girls. Marjory looked worn enough already. He knew that a very little more would incapacitate her for the afternoon's work.
"Not much. I have not cared to ask," Hermione answered. "He does not deserve that we should show interest. ”

“ Her terror was now so intense that she could neither move nor articulate a sound, and she could almost hear the violent palpitation of her heart. After what seemed to her an eternity, but which was, in all probability, only a few seconds, the hand was removed, and Miss Dalrymple then heard seven loud thumps on the table at the foot of the bed, after which there was silence, and the [p.107] manifestations ceased. Miss Dalrymple, however, was too upset to sleep, and lay awake all night in a great agony of mind, lest there should be any further disturbances. ”

“ Presently he took out his pocket-book, and handing me a card, said:--
"We are under the mutual disadvantage of all chance acquaintances. My name is Dalrymple--Oscar Dalrymple, late of the Enniskillen Dragoons. My friend here is unknown to fame as Mr. Frank Sullivan; a young gentleman who has the good fortune to be younger partner in a firm of merchant princes, and the bad taste to dislike his occupation."
How I blushed as I took Captain Dalrymple's card, and stammered out my own name in return! I had never possessed a card in my life, nor needed one, till this moment. ”

“ As each increases, the other is increased thereby. Attempting to define further, we find ourselves in a fog of terms.
As Mr. Dalrymple wrote, he lifted his eyes from time to time for a glance towards the bow-window. A small davenport stood there, and beside it a work-basket, also a lady's basket-chair. A little half-made print frock had been dropped across the arm of the chair, and a silver thimble lay on the davenport. It might have been a child's thimble, but it was not.
This was Hermione's favourite retreat. ”

“ Dalrymple obsessed him even when, after luncheon, he sat with Lambert upstairs, discussing business chiefly. He wanted to burst out with:
"Why don't you wake up? How can you approve of this intimacy between your sister and a man like that?"
He didn't believe the other knew that intimacy had progressed; and when Lambert spoke of Dalrymple, calling attention again to his apparent reformation, George cleansed his mind a trifle, placing, as it were, the foundation for a possible announcement of a more active enmity. ”

“ Dalrymple's reputation was excellent as a liberal foreigner who paid well, and the gardener would not blame the boy for saddling the mule without leave. [200]
In a few words Dalrymple explained what he wanted, and to help the lad's understanding he gave him some coppers which filled the little fellow with energy and delight. The boy was to be at the top of the mule path leading down from above the convent to the valley in half an hour. Dalrymple told him that he wished to go to Tivoli, and that the boy could come with him if he chose, after the visit to the abbess was over. ”

“ That other mania, admiration for Oscar Dalrymple's wife, which chiefly concerned the men, was but a small and private one; this was public and universal, and pertained to the women. It was a love for dress. A wild, rampant love for extravagant dress, not to be controlled within any limit. No fever yet known was like unto it; and Madame Damereau blessed it heartily, and petted it, and nursed it, and prayed—good Catholic that she was!—that it might never abate. We who have come to a certain age (than which nothing was ever more uncertain) can remember this, and the commotion it wrought. ”