Thomas Waller

“ When Charles returned, Waller's congratulations were deemed by the King less good than his compliments to Cromwell. "Poets, Sir," answered Waller, "succeed better in fiction than in truth." The treacherous politician [Pg 345] was forgiven on every side, the witty poet was welcome in Parliament and everywhere.
Waller's first wife was rich, his second was fertile. When at last his doctor pronounced his sentence of death, he quoted some lines of Virgil, and went home to die. John Evelyn had been "his worthy Friend": to no man were men more charitable than to Waller. ”

“ Ewart asked of Mrs. Macleod.
"Not since the last of October; but Marcia has seen her recently."
He looked at me inquiringly.
"I bought the rag carpet strips of her daughter."
"Is the old woman well?"
"Yes, she is wonderful for her age."
"Ninety-nine next year," said Mr. Ewart. "What a century she has lived!"
"André père must be ninety, then," said Doctor Rugvie. "How well I remember him! He is Mère Guillardeau's brother, as perhaps you know," he said turning to me. "Jamie must have told you of André."
"Yes, of André father and André son; you know them both?" ”

“ Sometime I mean ter look her up. I ain't been able ter do fer her as I 'd ought ter, fer I had bad luck fer too many years—them pesky western wildcat banks cleaned me out twice."
"By what name was the child christened?" asked the Doctor.
"Never was christened thet I know of."
"Oh, Cale, if only they had been happier!" It was Jamie who spoke with almost a groan.
"Wal, thet's the mystery of it," was his quiet answer. Gathering his loose-jointed frame together, he rose. "Guess I 'll go an' look after the hosses; it's goin' ter be a skinner of a night." At the door he turned. ”

“ Come on into the living-room—I 've built up a roaring fire there—and let's talk; nobody 's around."
"Where 's Doctor Rugvie?"
"Gone off with Cale to the farm. He 'll get pneumonia if he does n't look out; the place is like an ice-house at this season."
I slipped the pudding into the oven. "Now look out for it and keep enough milk in it till it wheys, Angélique." I turned to Jamie. "Where's Mr. Ewart?"
"Oh, Ewart's off nosing about in Quebec for some old furniture for his den. Pierre drove him to the train just after breakfast. He told mother he would be back in time for supper." ”

“ Mrs. Macleod remarked from the corner of the sofa, looking up from her knitting; "it will save so many trips to the village in weather like this."
"Is it a long distance one, Gordon?" said Jamie who was lolling on the other end.
"Yes; I thought we might as well connect with almost anywhere. Our household is rather cosmopolitan. Does this suit you?"
"Suits me to a dot. I can talk with my 'best girl', as they call her in the States, when she is on the wing—as she is now."
"Oh, ho, Boy! Has it come to this so soon?" The Doctor sighed audibly, causing us to laugh. ”

“ Googe; I appreciate that. You must find it hard to see a stranger like myself preëmpting your special claim, as I fancy this one is."
"It used to be when I was a youngster; but, to tell the truth, I haven't cared for it much of late years. The city life spoils a man for this. I love that rush and hustle and rubbing-elbows with the world in general, getting knocked about—and knocking." He laughed merrily, significantly, and Father Honoré, catching his meaning at once, laughed too. ”

“ Oh, if he hadn't been put there, I could have conquered this weakness—"
"Aileen, no! It is no weakness, it is strength."
Father Honoré withdrew his hand, that had been to the broken woman a silent benediction, and walked up and down the long room. "You would never have conquered; there was—there is no need to conquer. Such love is of God—trust it, my child; don't try any longer to thrust it forth from your heart, your life; for if you do, your life will be but a poor maimed thing, beneficial neither to yourself nor to others. ”

“ Edmund, the second son, inherited the estate, and represented Agmondesham in parliament, but at last turned quaker. William, the third son, was a merchant in London. Stephen, the fourth, was an eminent doctor of laws, and one of the commissioners for the union. There is said to have been a fifth, of whom no account has descended.
The character of Waller, both moral and intellectual, has been drawn by Clarendon, to whom he was familiarly known, with nicety, which certainly none to whom he was not known can presume to emulate. ”

“ I shall know you are safely housed—and there is so much to look forward to. Home will be a pleasant place for us, won't it?"
"I thought this, also, was home to you—"
"Only so long as you are here; my home henceforth is where you are."
And, hearing those words, despite the chill air, despite the lack of warm sunshine, despite the fact that old André lay dying in his tent just beyond the camp, despite the fact that Jamie and Mrs. Macleod were to leave me alone in Lamoral, that the Doctor was going away for an indefinite time, my happiness was at the flood. ”

“ Is that past, I am trying so hard to eliminate from my life, to present itself here as a quantity with which I must reckon—here in my life in this wilderness? Is there no avoiding it? André is so sure. Jamie knows he is sure; Mr. Ewart knows this too. They can say nothing to me about it—it is a matter of such delicacy; and they do not know who I am; even my journal does not tell that, and I knew this when I gave it into his hands.
"But the Doctor—he knows. He knows from Cale and Delia Beaseley. He knows who I am ”

“ They 've never seen that light. We 'll get out here," he said, throwing off the robes as Cale drew rein at the edge of the platform, "and you can welcome the Doctor for me if I miss him."
He whisked me out of the pung, giving me both hands as aid, and replaced the robes.
"Keep the horses head on, and don't let the dogs run," were his last words to Cale.
The Quebec express whistled at the curve an eighth of a mile distant from the junction; the sound fell strangely flat in the intense cold. Cale braced himself to handling the horses. I followed Mr. Ewart to the front of the platform. ”

“ I was sitting beside as good a man, as fine a man, one more than that other's equal in achievement, as the world counts achievement. I was groping for a solution when the Doctor exclaimed: "There's the manor!"
The white walls and snow-covered roof stood out boldly against the black massed background of spruce, hemlock and pine. The yellow chintz curtains were drawn apart, showing us both the gleam of lamplight and the leaping firelight. At the windows in the living-room were Jamie and his mother; at those of the dining-room both Angélique and Marie were visible for a moment. ”

“ The Doctor was pacing the room in his earnestness. He was not accustomed to beg thus to be allowed to prescribe for his patients. His one word was law, and he was not required to explain his motives.
Mr. Clyde's eyes followed him; then he broke the prolonged silence.
"Richard, you have asked me the one thing to which her mother would never have consented. How, then, can I?"
"Think it over, John, and let me know."
The two men clasped hands.
"Let me take you along in my cab to the reception; it's inhuman to take out your horses on such a night." ”

“ Thus fortified against the Canadian cold, I went downstairs promptly on time.
Mr. Ewart came out into the passageway; the Doctor was talking with Mrs. Macleod in the living-room.
"Why, Miss Farrell," he exclaimed, "I see you don't realize our climate; you can't go without more wraps—"
He hesitated, grew visibly embarrassed. I knew by his manner he had unwittingly probed my poverty to the quick, and I crimsoned with shame; yes, I was ashamed that my lack should thus be made known to him—ashamed as when Delia Beaseley's keen eyes read my need of money. ”

“ Then I went through the rooms one after another: the living-room—the office. I looked at the Méryon etchings—the Pont Neuf and Ste. Etienne—on its walls. Upstairs, too, I went; into Jamie's room, into Mrs. Macleod's, then to Mr. Ewart's. I stopped short on the threshold.
"Why am I going in here?" I asked myself. "What am I doing here?" I stepped in; looked about at my own handiwork—then at the bed. I crossed quickly to it and laid my cheek down upon his pillow. It was only for a moment. I heard wheels on the driveway. Cale was returning.
"I am ready, Cale. ”

“ We heard the dip of the paddles, a call—our camp call. In a few minutes the Doctor was with us.
I made excuse the next afternoon to go fishing with André. I kept saying to myself:
"This thing is impossible; there can be no connection between me and any woman who may have been here in camp, and Mr. Ewart says several have been here to his knowledge. What if I do look like some other woman who, years ago, lived and loved here in this wilderness? What have I to do with her? I 'll settle this matter once for all and to my satisfaction; André will tell me. He is romantic ”

“ King Charles could scarcely be persuaded, that a man, to all appearances, so stupid, could be the author of so much written wit.
XI. Waller is the next of those who produced any, the least improvement in English literature; and he, indeed, rather should be called a versifier than a poet; for there is assuredly none of the divine afflatus about him. He wrote prose in metre, and metre too of great polish. He has been celebrated for the music of his numbers, and, as usual, accused of borrowing from the well-head of all melodious versification—the Italian schools. ”

“ Edward Waller, the first refiner of English versification, was a member of the lower house; a man of considerable fortune, and not more distinguished by his poetical genius than by his parliamentary talents, and by the politeness and elegance of his manners. As full of keen satire and invective in his eloquence, as of tenderness and panegyric in his poetry, he caught the attention of his hearers, and exerted the utmost boldness in blaming those violent counsels by which the commons were governed. ”

“ I speak as an older woman to a younger. Dear child, I wish you joy; you deserve all that is in store for you—and there is so much for you, so much here in the old manor. I am so happy for you and with you, my dear."
I lifted my face to hers and she kissed me.
"I don't like to leave you here; it goes against me—there is no woman near you; and you cannot remain in the circumstances, you know, my dear, after Mr. Ewart returns. I only wish you would come with us. But that would never do; Mr. Ewart would be my enemy for life, and I could not blame him."
"Cale will be here," I said. ”

“ I want nothing else on my walls. Will you select some for this room and some for the den? I will passepartout them; they should have no frames."
"You 're just giving me the best treat you could possibly provide," I said, still in possession of the proof, "and how glad I am that I 've had it—"
"What, Marcia?" This from Jamie.
"I mean the chance to extract a little honey from the strong."
Mrs. Macleod and Jamie looked thoroughly mystified, not knowing New York; but Mr. Ewart smiled at my enthusiasm and scripture application. ”

“ The Doctor compressed his lips in a fashion that said as plainly as if he had spoken, "Unsophisticated at twenty-six; I don't believe her!"
"I love Cale, too, and he is my own kind."
"Cale 's all right; I 'm going to know him better before the week is out. And how about Mrs. Macleod?"
"Mrs. Macleod is Jamie's mother, and I like her and respect her—but she 's not easy to love."
"That's true—she is not easy to love. About the salary," he said changing the subject; "I intended to pay it myself until you were installed on the farm; it is a favor to me to be allowed to help out Mrs. ”

“ Ewart himself feel he is a beneficiary in his own house," I retorted gayly. "And as for Doctor Rugvie, we 'll see whether his farm will have such attractions for him after he has been our guest."
Mrs. Macleod laid her hand on my shoulder and smiled, saying with a sigh of relief:
"If you will only take the generalship, Marcia, you will find in me a good aide-de-camp."
Jamie said nothing, but he gave me a look that was with me all that day and many following. It spurred me to do my best. ”

“ And one is the dark mount of Sorrow
And one the bright mountain of Prayer.
GO, LOVELY ROSE.
BY EDMUND WALLER.
Edmund Waller was born in Hertfordshire, England, in 1605. He went to King’s College, Cambridge. Later he entered parliament and took an active part in the long parliament. In 1664 he was exiled on account of participating in royalist plots. He returned to England under Cromwell’s administration. He died at Beaconsfield in 1687. Waller’s poems were first published in 1645. ”

“ I don't see that you need much looking after; a young lady perfectly able to look out for herself, eh, Mrs. Macleod?"
"Perhaps the circumstances warranted some sort of chaperonage, Doctor," said Mrs. Macleod, entering into his fun and frolic as into no one's else. "As Marcia sets it forth, she was alone, except for you, on the platform of the junction nine miles from home, with Cale braced in the pung on the highroad, ready for the horses to bolt." ”

“ I was serving Cale with his portion of porridge when he spoke, answering the question put by the Doctor to me. Cale had been gradually appropriating me since my coming, and I had no cause to resent his right of proprietorship.
"Guess 'twill take two ter hold her up the fust few times; but Marcia's nimble on her feet; she 'll outstrip us soon. She 's a mighty good one on snowshoes."
"Ewart taught you, did n't he?" said the Doctor, turning to me and holding out his bowl the second time. "Just a spoonful more, if you please. ”