Hopes and Fears Part 118

There was a chiffonier with a looking-gla.s.s back just opposite to her, and, raising her eyes, poor Phoebe beheld a young lady with brow, cheeks, and neck perfectly glowing with crimson!

'You shan't stand there long at any rate,' said she, almost vindictively, getting up and pus.h.i.+ng the table with its deep cover between her and the answering witness.

'Love! Nonsense! Yet I don't see why I should be ashamed! Yes! He is my wise man, he is the real Humfrey Charlecote! His is the very nature I always thought some one must still have--the exact judgment I longed to meet with. Not stern like Robin's, not sharp like Mervyn's, nor high-flying like dear Miss Charlecote's, nor soft like Bevil's, nor light like Lucy's, nor clear and clever like Miss Fennimore's--no, but considerate and solid, tender and true--such as one can lean upon! I know why he has the steadfast eyes that I liked so much the first evening. And there is so much more in him than I can measure or understand. Yes, though I have known him but ten days, I have seen much more of him than of most men in a year. And he has been so much tried, and has had such a life, that he may well be called a real hero in a quiet way. Yes, I well may like him! And I am sure he likes me!' said another whisper of the heart, which, veiled as was the lady in the mirror, made Phoebe put both hands over her face, in a shamefaced ecstatic consciousness. 'Nay--I was the first lady he had seen, the only person to speak to. No, no; I know it was not that--I feel it was not!

Why, otherwise, did he seem so sorry I was not poor? Oh! how nice it would be if I were! We could work for each other in his glorious new land of hope! I, who love work, was made for work! I don't care for this mere young lady life! And must my trumpery thousand a year stand in the way? As to birth, I suppose he is as well or better born than I--and, oh! so far superior in tone and breeding to what ours used to be!

He ought to know better than to think me a fine young lady, and himself only an engineer's a.s.sistant! But he won't! Of course he will be honourable about it--and--and perhaps never dare to say another word till he has made his fortune--and when will that ever be? It will be right--'

'But' (and a very different but it was this time) 'what am I thinking about? How can I be wis.h.i.+ng such things when I have promised to devote myself to Maria? If I could rough it gladly, she could not; and what a shameful thing it is of me to have run into all this long day dream and leave her out. No, I know my lot! I am to live on here, and take care of Maria, and grow to be an old maid! I shall hear about him, when he comes to be a great man, and know that the Humfrey Charlecote I dreamt about is still alive! There, I won't have any more nonsense!'

And she opened her book; but finding that Humfrey Randolf's remarks would come between her and the sense, she decided that she was too tired to read, and put herself to bed. But there the sense of wrong towards Maria filled her with remorse that she had accepted her rights of seniority, and let the maids place her in the prettiest room, with the best bay window, and most snug fireplace; nor could she rest till she had pacified her self-reproach, by deciding that all her own goods should move next day into the chamber that did not look at the Holt firs, but only at the wall of the back yard.

'Yes,' said Phoebe, stoutly in her honest dealing with herself in her fresh, untried morning senses. 'I do love Humfrey Charlecote Randolf, and I think he loves me! Whether anything more may come of it, will be ordered for me; but whether it do so or not, it is a blessing to have known one like him, and now that I am warned, and can try to get back self-control, I will begin to be the better for it. Even if I am not quite so happy, this is something more beautiful than I ever knew before.

I will be content!'

And when Bertha and Maria arrived, brimful of importance at having come home with no escort but a man and maid, and voluble with histories of Sutton, and wedding schemes, they did not find an absent nor inattentive listener. Yet the keen Bertha made the remark, 'Something has come over you, Phoebe. You have more countenance than ever you had before.'

Whereat Phoebe's colour rushed into her cheeks, but she demanded the meaning of countenance, and embarked Bertha in a dissertation.

When Phoebe was gone, Robert found it less difficult to force Lucilla to the extremity of a _tete-a-tete_. Young Randolf was less in the house, and, when there, more with Owen than before, and Lucilla was necessarily sometimes to be caught alone in the drawing-room.

'Lucy,' said Robert, the first time this occurred, 'I have a question to ask you.'

'Well!'--she turned round half defiant.

'A correspondent of Mervyn, on the Spanish coast, has written to ask him to find a chaplain for the place, guaranteeing a handsome stipend.'

'Well,' said Lucilla, in a cold voice this time.

'I wished to ask whether you thought it would be acceptable to Mr.

Prendergast.'

'I neither know nor care.'

'I beg your pardon,' said Robert, after a pause; 'but though I believe I learnt it sooner than I ought, I was sincerely glad to hear--'

'Then unhear!' said Lucilla, pettishly. 'You, at least, ought to be glad of that.'

'By no means,' returned Robert, gravely. 'I have far too great a regard for you not to be most deeply concerned at what I see is making you unhappy.'

'May not I be unhappy if I like, with my brother in this state?'

'That is not all, Lucilla.'

'Then never mind! You are the only one who never pitied me, and so I like you. Don't spoil it now!'

'You need not be afraid of my pitying you if you have brought on this misunderstanding by your old spirit!'

'Not a bit of it! I tell you he pitied me. I found it out in time, so I set him free. That's all.'

'And that was the offence?'

'Offence! What are you talking of? He didn't offend--No, but when I said I could not bring so many upon him, and could not have Owen teased about the thing, he said he would bother me no more, that I had Owen, and did not want him. And then he walked off.'

'Taking you at your word?'

'Just as if one might not say what one does not mean when one wants a little comforting,' said Lucy, pouting; 'but, after all, it is a very good thing--he is saved a great plague for a very little time, and if it were all pity, so much the better. I say, Robin, shall you be man enough to read the service over me, just where we stood at poor Edna's funeral?'

'I don't think that concerns you much,' said Robert.

'Well, the lady in Madge Wildfire's song was gratified at the "six brave gentlemen" who "kirkward should carry her." Why should you deprive me of that satisfaction? Really, Robin, it is quite true. A little happiness might have patched me up, but--'

'The symptoms are recurring? Have you seen F---?'

'Yes. Let me alone, Robin. It is the truest mercy to let me wither up with as little trouble as possible to those who don't want me. Now that you know it, I am glad I can talk to you, and you will help me to think of what has never been enough before my eyes.'

Robert made no answer but a hasty good-bye, and was gone.

Lucilla gave a heavy sigh, and then exclaimed, half-aloud--

'Oh, the horrid little monster that I am. Why can't I help it? I verily believe I shall flirt in my shroud, and if I were canonized my first miracle would be like St. Philomena's, to make my own relics presentable!'

Wherewith she fell a laughing, with a laughter that soon turned to tears, and the exclamation, 'Why can I make n.o.body care for me but those I can't care for? I can't help disgusting all that is good, and it will be well when I am dead and gone. There's only one that will shed tears good for anything, and he is well quit of me!'

The poor little lonely thing wept again, and after her many sleepless nights, she fairly cried herself to sleep. She awoke with a start, at some one being admitted into the room.

'My dear, am I disturbing you?'

It was the well-known voice, and she sprang up.

'Mr. Pendy, Mr. Pendy, I was very naughty! I didn't mean it. Oh, will you bear with me again, though I don't deserve it?'

She clung to him like a child wearied with its own naughtiness.

'I was too hasty,' he said; 'I forgot how wrapped up you were in your brother, and how little attention you could spare, and then I thought that in him you had found all you wanted, and that I was only in your way.'

'How could you? Didn't you know better than to think that people put their brothers before their--Mr. Pendys?'

'You seemed to wish to do so.'

'Ah! but you should have known it was only for the sake of being coaxed!'

said Lucilla, hanging her head on one side.

'You should have told me so.'

'But how was I to know it?' And she broke out into a very different kind of laughter. 'I'm sure I thought it was all magnanimity, but it is of no use to die of one's own magnanimity, you see.'

'You are not going to die; you are coming to this Spanish place, which will give you lungs of bra.s.s.'

'Spanish place? How do you know? I have not slept into to-morrow, have I? That Robin has not flown to Wrapworth and back since three o'clock?'