Miss Maxwell

“ Maxwell's door.
"Come in," said a quiet voice, and John opened the door. The first thing that met his gaze was his picture of the angel hanging at the head of a child's cot. Beneath it, calmly asleep, was Dodo—Willie's sister. A frail morsel of humanity she seemed, with pale, almost transparent, complexion—the paler by its contrasting framework of golden hair. Mrs. Maxwell was busily engaged at needlework. She hastily rose when she saw her visitor. "I thought it was Mrs. Baker" (Mrs. Baker was the landlady) , she said. "She usually looks in the last thing." ”

“ Maxwell paused and looked at her keenly, his right hand grasping firmly the pistol in his pocket.
"Then may I ask the reason of your very civil reception of me to-day?"
"The reason! Civil!"
"Yes, the reason, the motive: you must have one."
"Is not my love...."
"You promised to be frank," he said, menacingly.
"I did—I am so."
"Then let us have no subterfuge of language—speak plainly—it will be better for you."
"Maxwell, if you are come here to irritate me with your jealousy, and your absurd doubts, you have chosen a bad time. I am not well. I am not happy. ”

“ It is no wonder that Maxwell told me he had married the most beautiful and charming woman in the world. I have never seen any one to compare with her for beauty and grace, though I have traveled over half the world, and seen many beauties in my time. ”

“ Willings!”
Miss Maxwell wanted to laugh, looked at the piteous doglike expression in his large round eyes, and was touched with tenderness.
“Now do think for a moment. Here we are in a dusty little park in St. John’s Wood and we’re both middle-aged and nothing could make us romantic any longer. There is a beautiful young girl with all her life in front of her. I’m a withered old thing and you know it in yourself. Besides. I’m in love with somebody else.”
His face fell, so it was tragic to see.
“In love with somebody else?”
“Yes, with my house. ”

“ Miss Thompson, in her fawn-coloured coat and skirt, feathered hat and spotted veil, was a tall, slim, graceful figure, ready now to adorn the hired landau from Mr. Young's livery stables. Her hair was dark and her complexion naturally pallid; with a long straight nose in a narrow face, she resembled her dead father, but what was sheep-like and stupid in him was rather pretty in the girl;—altogether, a decent-looking, fairly attractive young woman of twenty-two, but not likely to obtain from the world at large the gaze of admiring satisfaction with which an adoring mother regarded her. ”

“ I have stood alone, in a shroud of thoughts, which were not their thoughts; but few understand me, my dear, for I live in an ideal world, and whatever calls me back to this gross creation, makes me perfectly miserable: say, my dear Miss Lindsay, are these your feelings?"
"Alas, no," replied Emma; "I love the world too well, and have spent many wretched, sleepless nights because I was unwilling to leave it: but that time is passed. If I have any fear now, it is that my work on earth will not be well done before I am called away." ”

“ Jane had extricated herself from the arms that held her; and, sliding to the floor, she went to her mother's side. The energy of granny's voice frightened her.
"I'll do my best," said Enid. "I'll try to bear things submissively, as you do."
[Pg 268]
"And don't lose hope in the future," said Mrs. Marsden, dropping her voice, and summoning every cheerful generality she could remember. "Be patient. Wait—and clouds will pass. You are young—with more than half your life before you. You have your sweet child. Go on hoping for happy days. The clouds will pass. The sun will shine again." ”

“ Maxwell had been thoroughly dusting, on account of the expected arrival, and as Harty entered the room he darted from Rosa, and carefully taking from the shelf some twigs, with bits of spiders' web attached to thorn, he angrily exclaimed, "Old Maxwell has been here, I know! I wish she would let my things alone! the hateful thing! See here, Rosa, this was a beautiful web, as perfect as it could be; I brought it only yesterday morning, when it was all strung with dew-drops, and now look at it! Isn't it enough to make any one angry?" ”

“ And she wept for her wasted youth, her vanished grace, for all that makes the summer in a woman's life.
But next day she woke in sunlight. White clouds raced across a blue sky; the air was warm and genial; and, as she walked up St. Saviour's Court, leaning on the kind arm of Mr. Prentice, she was a girl again.
There were many people in the church, but their curious glances did not trouble her. Sunbeams streaming through painted glass made a rainbow radiance on the chancel steps; and here she stood by her lover's side, feeling happy and at ease in the radiant heart of the glorious dream. ”

“ Soon a soft greyness would rise from the horizon; indistinctness, vagueness, mystery would creep over the town and the fields, blotting out the ugly gas-works, hiding the common works of men, giving the world back to nature; but there would be no real night. In these, the longest days of the year, the light never quite died.
The colour of her blue dress and of the pink roses in her toque was clearly visible, as Mrs. Thompson and the young man walked on side by side. ”

“ Mears said all the women in the shop had submitted to the spell—but not the silliest, most feather-headed slut of them all had fallen into such idiotic depths as those in which their proud and stately chief lay weeping.
She dried her eyes, got out of bed and drank water, stood at the open window, turned on the light, turned off the light, lay down again and tried desperately to sleep.
In a moment her cheeks were burning.—She could feel the hot kisses; she could hear the hurried words. "A face made to be kissed—setting one's blood on fire.... You are a woman all through—you are ripe for love." ”

“ Yesterday there had been a lawn meet—whether at Widmore Towers or somewhere else, Mrs. Marsden did not gather. Mrs. Bulford's horse was there; but as yet Mrs. Bulford had not shown herself. Charles was there, dismounted for the moment, walking about among the gentlemen in front of the house, taking nips of cherry brandy and nibbling biscuits offered by the footmen with the trays. All was jollity and animation—promise of fine sport; dull sky, gentle westerly breeze, dew-sprinkled earth; kindly nature seemed to proclaim a good scenting day. ”

“ Thompson march by with a company of false Mrs. Thompsons stretching in perfect line from the right—innumerable Mrs. Thompsons shown by the glasses; some looking bigger, some looking slighter; but all the glasses showing a large-bosomed, broad-hipped woman of forty-five, with florid colouring and robust deportment; a valiant solid creature seeming, as indeed she was, well able to carry the burden of the whole shop on her firm shoulders. ”

“ Graffam?"
"I will," said he, with a tone and manner something like self-respect and respect for his wife,—"I will, miss, with pleasure;" and he pulled his old hat from his head, and bowed low, while Emma bade him good-by.
"Go out upon the hills, my love," called Mrs. Lindsay from her window to Emma; "it will do you no good to be tying-up flowers, and talking with ragged old men by the roadside. Put on your bonnet, and walk briskly over the bridge, and let me see you from my window upon the top of yonder hill." ”

“ Her brougham, the last of the carriages remaining on the wet gravel, stood with its door open; she pushed Miss Verinder into it and the footman smothered them with a fur rug. As they drove away Miss Verinder’s eyes for a moment filled with not easily repressible tears. She was touched by the warmth of her friend’s greeting.
“Now I want to tell you,” said Mrs. Bell, with affectionate impressiveness, when she and Emmie had crossed the hospitable threshold and were alone together, “I want to tell you at once that nothing that has happened makes the least difference to me.” ”

“ Our deliberations are not at an end, and by daybreak to-morrow they will be resumed."
"Nay, but, my son, you say not that you will seek revenge," cried Lady Maxwell; "you speak of those petty barons, whom you demean yourself so far as to consult. Your father told them what was his will, and never asked what was theirs. It was theirs to obey."
"Why do you speak so hardly of me?" asked the youth. "Have I not borne myself like my equals and my race? But you shall not want revenge—you shall not want the heart's blood that you ask. ”

“ You must watch his declining years, cheer him when he droops, smile with him when he’s happy in illness, your task will be to smooth his pillow; in death, your hand must close his eyes. Come, Julia, no weeping. If it be fated that I fall, except you and the old man, few will weep for me. If I return, it will be ‘with war’s red honours on my crest,’ to gladden my father’s age, and find some one to whom I can safely entrust thy happiness, dear Julia—one, who can estimate the value of a woman, whose thoughts are pure and cloudless as the light of yonder blessed moon. ”

“ Letty followed her, settled her satin skirts in their most graceful folds, put one little foot on a Louis Quinze footstool which seemed to invite it, and then began to inform herself about the house and the family.
At the beginning of their talk it was clear that Lady Maxwell wished to ingratiate herself. A friendly observer would have thought that she was trying to make a stranger feel more at ease in this house and circle, where she herself was a familiar guest. ”

“ In an instant her quick imagination realised herself as the daughter and niece of two discredited members of a great class. When she attacked the class, or the system, the man beside her—any man in similar circumstances—must naturally think: "Ah, well, poor girl—Dick Boyce's daughter—what can you expect?" Whereas—Aldous Raeburn!—she thought of the dignity of the Maxwell name, of the width of the Maxwell possessions, balanced only by the high reputation of the family for honourable, just and Christian living, whether as amongst themselves or towards their neighbours and dependents. ”

“ As the big bay horses trotted along the smooth roads she leaned back in her seat with luxurious contentment and beamed at Jane, at Enid, at all the world.
"Now is not this much nicer—the air, the quiet enjoyment, the gentle motion—than if we were being whirled past everything in a motor-car?"
"Yes, granny, it is very nice."
"I fear that you would have preferred the car, Enid?"
"Oh no, mother dear. I think horses are delightful when you don't want to go far, and time is no object."
"That's just it," said Mrs. Thompson. "Time is no object. ”

“ He waited, tremulous with eagerness; for he loved his art, although he debased it. He muttered to himself:
"God! how that man can play!"
Jim Maxwell's fingers sought the keys again, weaving strange harmonies. And through them ran a thread of melody. The listeners could not understand, though the spell of it held them. Only, they knew somehow that the one who played was a man, full of a man's passions—the primitive passions of love and hate. There was a harshness in the dissonances that told of bitter sorrows; there was a charm in the thread of melody that was all truth and tenderness. ”

“ Mary always worked with a will; but old Mrs. Goudie, who came for charring twice a week, used to say that, in spite of being handicapped by the state of her health, the mistress worked harder than the maid.
A swept hearth, a trimmed lamp, and the savory odor of well-cooked food, were what Dale might be sure of finding at the evening hour; and Mavis tried to give him something more. He must have peace at the end of the day, and thus be able to forget the day's disappointments, no matter how cruel they had been. She would not let him talk about the business at night. ”

“ When the luncheon was over she was glad to notice that he tipped the waiter liberally. It would have been irksome to her, as a prodigious tipper, to observe any economy—but Marsden gave almost as much as if she herself had taken the money out of the purse. She used to hand him her purse as they went into the restaurant, and he gave it back to her as they came out again.
Serving-girls at the fashionable London shops were inclined to smile while they waited upon Mrs. Thompson choosing her nuptial finery. ”

“ Emma now lifted Edwin from his seat upon the rock, and taking his hand, while Mary brought the bright dipper, they started for the log-house, which looked in the distance like a black stump.
"It is loving your neighbor better than yourself,"—said the little boy, looking smilingly up into Emma's face,—"I am sure it is, to come all this way with me."
"Well, we ought to love our neighbor better than ourselves," replied
Mary, who was walking behind. "We shall, Eddy, if we are like——"
"Like Jesus?" ”

“ She came one day into Elizabeth’s sitting-room to find Mr Maxwell there in animated discussion with Clifton. She hardly recognised him in the new brightness of his face, and the animation of his voice and manner. He was as unlike as possible to the silent, constrained young man who daily sat at her table, and who responded so inadequately to her efforts for his entertainment. She liked the minister, and wished to make him happy in her house, and there was real pain mingled with the unreasonable anger she felt as she watched him. ”

“ Mildred was that pretty child to whom Miss Verinder had spoken kindly years ago, when the little thing was sitting on a pony outside her father’s front door in Ennismore Gardens. Now she had become a glowing young woman. Daintily dressed in the prevailing gossamer style, with mauve-coloured stockings and grey suède shoes, with bare neck and looping curls, she had such brightness of attire and such a youthful bloom of complexion that, as she settled herself on Miss Verinder’s sofa, she made the whole room and everything in it seem dull and faded. ”