Under the Mendips Part 17

"Did Mr. Arundel say anything to you as he drove into Wells?"

"Say!" exclaimed the squire. "Well, he is not dumb. He said his head ached, for one thing."

"Ah!" said Mrs. Falconer; "he did not say any thing about his heart?"

The squire puffed a little smoke from his long clay pipe; for he indulged in a pipe sometimes, though the amount of tobacco consumed in the present day would have amazed him, and shocked him also, had he known that the greatest smokers were the young men and boys, to whom, sixty years ago, smoking was forbidden. He did not seem inclined to say anything in reply to his wife's last question.

"Because," said Mrs. Falconer, with that far-seeing and oracular wisdom in which men hope in vain to rival us in these matters, at least; "because I believe Gilbert Arundel is in love with our Joyce."

"Well," said the squire, "that would be no wonder to me; but I daresay it is only one of your fancies, Kate."

"We shall see; we shall see," said Mrs. Falconer. "I only hope he has not trifled with my child, and that my 'fancies,' as you call them, _are_ fancies, that is all."

CHAPTER VII.

ON SION HILL, CLIFTON.

Gilbert Arundel was to meet his mother in Clifton, where arrangements were to be made for their permanent residence there. Clifton was at this time gradually changing its position, or rather enlarging its borders!

At the close of the preceding century, or during the latter half of it, Clifton Spa was the chief attraction. To these healing waters, as we know by Mason's celebrated epitaph, a sorrowing husband brought his fading wife. Dowry Square and Dowry Parade, with their little quaint pillars and balconies were in great request for invalids and visitors, from their near neighbourhood to the pump room.

Consumptive patients might be seen slowly walking under the row of trees by the banks of the muddy Avon, and gazing across at the deep recesses of the Leigh Woods with wistful eyes. To the weak and the ailing Nightingale Valley was then, though so near, very far off for them, and only the robust and vigorous could cross the river by Rownham Ferry, and scale the wooded heights which at all times and in all seasons are so fair to look upon.

But at the time of which I write the tide of visitors was setting in _upwards_. The word "relaxing" was coming into fas.h.i.+on, and enterprising builders had raised, halfway up the hill, Windsor Terrace and the Paragon, that circular range of houses which, entered from the level road before Prince's Buildings, ends abruptly in a house which may indeed be said to "be built upon a rock," the windows looking straight down its precipitous sides.

Along the road which I have mentioned, which follows the course of the river, though high above it, was erected 'Prince's Buildings;' the 'first gentleman in Europe' during his long regency appears to have supplied the names of many streets and terraces in this neighbourhood.

Coronation Road beneath commemorates the auspicious event when Queen Caroline was shut out from her rights, and Prince's Buildings above was also previously named in his honour. Crescents and terraces were quick to follow one another on the heights, and the glories of the Hot wells, and the salubrity of the waters, became things of the past.

Bracing air began to be the panacea for ailments, and the Clifton Downs, now secured to the citizens of Bristol by the merchant venturers for ever, were sought by many who, a few years before, would have buried themselves and their hopes of recovery under the shadow of the rocky heights, instead of facing the keen air upon their summit.

There was a medium preserved, however--Prince's Buildings, and the houses built on the slope of Sion Hill, were sheltered at the back and from the front commanded a view of the Leigh Woods before them, and a shoulder of the great St. Vincent Rock to their right, which might well excite the admiration of those who saw it for the first time.

After Gilbert Arundel had stepped less briskly than sometimes up the steep slope of Granby Hill, leaving the Crescent to his right, he pa.s.sed along the back of Prince's Buildings and up Sion Hill, where his mother had taken up her temporary abode.

These houses are built with old-fas.h.i.+oned bow windows, some of them running up from the bas.e.m.e.nt to the roof, and one or two with circular balconies on the second story.

As Gilbert was beginning to consider which number his mother had given as her address, he heard his name called from above, and looking up, a tall, fas.h.i.+onably dressed young lady said:

"Gilbert, we thought you were never coming from Fair Acres. There must have been some great attraction."

[Ill.u.s.tration: St Vincent's Rock, From Leigh Woods.]

Gilbert did not care to have his personal history proclaimed to the people who were seated on benches at the top of the Zig-zag--a path now cut in the rock and made easier of ascent by means of flights of steps, but then scarcely more than a bridle path, rough and slippery to the feet.

The door was open and Gilbert walked in, and walked upstairs. His mother was on the watch, and came to the head of the stairs to meet him, kissing him affectionately.

"Well, my dear son, are you pleased with our quarters? But, Gilbert, you do not look well; what is the matter?"

"Nothing; I had a tussle with a Somersets.h.i.+re miner last evening, and feel as if I had got the worst of it to-day. What a lovely view you have from the window!"

The young lady who had spoken to him on the balcony now stepped into the room.

"Well, Gilbert, Aunt Annabella and I had quite given you up. My dear cousin, you look very lugubrious."

"Do I?" Gilbert replied. "A head-ache is a lugubrious thing; and how are you, Gratian?"

"Pretty well. I have been rather out of sorts; but I shall soon recover, now you are come."

"That is a very pretty speech, Gratian, only I can't quite believe it."

"Well, I am going to take a walk abroad now, and leave you and your mother to have a chat together, all about Fairy Acre, or Fair Acre; which is it? I am very stupid; pray forgive me. Any commissions in the Mall or Regent Street, Aunt Bella?"

Mrs. Arundel, who had been getting her son some refreshment from one of the deep cupboards by the fire place, and was anxious to administer a gla.s.s of wine, now turned towards her niece. "No. Are you going alone, Gratian?"

"Yes, I am starting alone; I don't mean to fall over the rocks.

Good-bye."

Gratian Anson was long past her _premiere jeunesse_, and had never been actually pretty; but she was one of those women who exercise an extraordinary fascination apparently without any effort, and have their prey in their net, before there is any suspicion that the net is spread.

Gratian dressed fas.h.i.+onably, and one of her perfections was a tall and well-proportioned figure. We might not, now-a-days, think it was set off by her short and full-flounced muslin gown, made with a short waist, the body cut low, while over it she wore an enormous pelerine of muslin, edged with lace, which was crossed ever her breast and fastened with a curious antique brooch.

Even Gratian's tall figure could scarcely bear gracefully the width which fas.h.i.+on had decreed; and all was surmounted by a hat with a sugar-loaf crown, and a deep brim caught up on the left side by a large red rosette.

As she drew on her long, loose gloves, she surveyed her cousin with an appraising, searching glance. Her eyes were at all times too keen, and her wide mouth displayed a row of white teeth more fully than was quite agreeable.

"Ah!" she said, tapping Gilbert's shoulder; "ah! he is in love. I have no doubt of it! _Adieu; au revoir, cher cousin!_"

"The same as ever!" Gilbert said. "Thank you, dear mother," he said, rising with his accustomed courtesy to take the gla.s.s of wine from her hand. "Thanks. I confess I am rather knocked up; and if I had known Sion Hill was so far from the Bristol coach office I should have come up in a hackney, I think, instead of sending my luggage by the carrier. But how beautiful this is!" he said, stepping on the balcony and looking out upon the scene before him.

No piers had yet been raised for the great design of the Suspension Bridge--that vast dream of Brunel's, which for so many years seemed fated to remain only a dream; while the naked b.u.t.tresses, in all their huge proportions, stood like giants on either side of the gorge, connected only by a rod of iron, over which a few people with strong nerves were allowed to pa.s.s in a sliding basket.

Gilbert looked out on a scene which can hardly be equalled for the unusual beauty of its salient points.

"We shall be happy to live here, mother," Gilbert said.

"You have no misgivings, my dear son."

"No, it is clear I must make my living in some practical way, and why not by the law?"

"There is the drudgery of the office first, and then the pa.s.sing of examinations."

"I have weighed all the pros and cons with you before; why do you go over them again?" This was said in an irritable tone.

"I would as soon be a man of law as anything; and I want to make a home"--he paused--"for _you_, and for one whom I have found under the Mendips."