Under the Mendips Part 33

Gratian kept Melville in good order. There were rumours in the neighbourhood that she took charge of the purse, and that an allowance was doled out to her lord and master, which she never permitted him to exceed. However that might be, Gratian certainly managed to get through without heavy debts, and the squire's will had provided for the maintenance of his widow, and the boys had each their portion paid from the estate.

Mr. Watson and Ralph virtually managed the farm, and Ralph held a good position and was greatly respected. Only one of the twins was left. The sea rolled over the bright hair of Bunny, on his second voyage. He was washed from the mast by a huge wave, off the coast of Africa, and engulfed in the stormy waters, never to rise again. This sorrow had told greatly on Mrs. Falconer, and she had aged very much since we saw her last. But she was touchingly gentle and tender to Joyce, and her children were the delight of her heart.

Joyce's tap was answered by a sleepy "Come in."

"We are just starting, Gratian," Joyce said; "I could not go without bidding you good-bye, and thanking you for a very pleasant visit."

"What makes you start so early?"

"Gilbert wished us to be off by ten o'clock. He says Bristol is likely to be in a ferment to-day, and he did not wish us to be late."

"Late! Well I should think twelve would have been time enough to start.

Bid mother and Piers good-bye for me. Is Melville down stairs?"

"I have not seen him," Joyce said; "but perhaps he is in the study."

"Good-bye again," Joyce said, stooping to kiss Gratian; "we have had a very happy fortnight. I do like my children to know the dear old place."

"We are very glad to have you," Gratian replied; "and, Joyce, if you pay a visit at any of the best houses at Clifton, or near Bristol, notice if the curtains are flowered damask or watered, for new curtains we _must_ have in the dining room."

Another yawn, and "Good-bye, love to Aunt Annabella," and Gratian's head, in the many-frilled night-cap, which scarcely hid a row of curl-papers, fell back upon the pillow.

And now Falcon's voice was heard.

"Mother, _do_ come; why doesn't Aunt Gratian get up? mother! How lazy she is!"

"Hus.h.!.+ Falcon," for Joyce saw her brother issuing forth from his dressing-room in a magnificent loose dressing-gown, and a scarlet fez with a ta.s.sel on his head.

"Why! Joyce, off already?" he said; "I must come down and see the last of the infants. Thank goodness they are not mine!"

"I have been to bid Gratian good-bye, and thanked her for her kindness; we are a large party."

"Oh! so much the better," said Melville, good-temperedly; "we are very glad to have you. What a regular family coach! Where did that come from?"

"From the 'Swan.' Ralph ordered it yesterday."

At last they were all packed in.

Joyce was the last, and she was just about to step into the carriage when Mr. Paget came riding up.

"Oh! you are off, Mrs. Arundel. I just called to tell you that there is news of disturbances in Bristol. A great mob collected in Queen's Square last night, and political feeling is exciting the people to madness. I suppose Arundel will ride out to meet you?"

"He told me to start early, that we might get through Bristol before the afternoon."

"Ah! Well, I daresay it will be all right. Upon my word, what a pretty party you are! A rose and her rosebuds--eh! Mrs. Falconer? Where is Ralph?"

"Gone early to Bridgwater; there is a cattle sale to-day, and he and Mr.

Watson went off at six o'clock."

"Ralph does not let the gra.s.s grow under his feet,--eh! Falconer? It is the early bird that finds the worm."

Melville smiled. The gorgeous colours of his dressing gown and fez came out in grand relief against the old porch, and Mr. Paget thought to himself, how odd it was that Mr. Falconer's son should be so entirely unlike either father or mother. He had dismounted; while old Thomas held the horse, he had helped Joyce into the carriage, and patted the rounded cheeks of the baby, whom her mother now took from her grandmother, and settled comfortably on her knee, while he called out to Falcon, who was in the d.i.c.key with Susan and the luggage, not to put out his eyes with a long cane he was brandis.h.i.+ng, kicking his feet vigorously all the time, and shouting "Gee up!" at the pitch of his young lungs. The two little rosebuds of girls sat demure and quiet on the back seat with their uncle Piers; and then, with a final "Good-bye" and waving his hands, the scarlet-coated post-boy cracked his whip, and Joyce and her children were fairly off for home; for, sweet as the old home was, and full of tender memories, the large city house in Great George Street was dearer still.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Queen's Square, Bristol.]

Never had a cloud of mistrust or doubt come between Gilbert and his wife. They were subject, as we all are, to the little trials and annoyances of life, but these were all, outside that inner temple where, secure in each other's love, and bound by the golden chain of faith and trust in G.o.d, who had given them so many beautiful gifts and tokens of His loving care, they could always retire and feel that they were happy.

This fair and gracious temple of married love is one of the most beautiful possessions that any one can rejoice in. But it needs to be carefully watched, lest any moth should enter, or rust mar its brightness, or serpent creep into the paradise.

As the Vestals of ancient days kept their altar light pure and clear, so should the true wife pray to keep the light of this, her sacred temple, pure, and replenish it from time to time with the heavenly graces of Hope, Faith, and Charity, those three, the greatest of which is Charity; for it is one of the laws of our being, that in whatever position we find ourselves we cannot be secure without watching and prayer Sometimes the wreckage of a fair s.h.i.+p, or the first falling of the stone which is to end in the ruin of that house, may be traced to some small failure in duty, some slight wrong or omission unrepaired, or some angry word unrepented of. The woman who hopes to get through life loved and honoured to the end, and who would guard the first enthusiasm of her husband's love in all its freshness, must not expect to do so without continual care, forbearance in small matters, and bright, cheerful taking up of little crosses, which turns many a thorn into a flower, many a rough stone into a radiant jewel.

Mr. Paget turned away from watching the carriage roll off, and said to Melville and Harry:

"I hope they will have a safe journey; there is much ill-feeling abroad; and they are making a desperate effort in Bristol to secure the return of two Reform candidates. It is an unhappy business," said peace-loving Mr. Paget. "It is far better to let well alone."

"Yes," said Melville, who was far too indolent by nature to have any very keen political feeling, "it was great nonsense of old Wetherall to split with his party about the Papists, and now to be against Reform."

"As an old Tory, I am with him there," said Mr. Paget; "and there is something brave in the way he has put his own interests aside for what he believes to be right. But a judge ought not to be so violent a partisan. I hope Mrs. Arundel and those pretty babies of hers won't come in for any stone throwing and smas.h.i.+ng of windows. There is to be a great meeting in Queen's Square to-day."

"Turn in to breakfast, Mr. Paget," Melville said. "My wife has a headache, and is not come down yet. But Harry and I will do the honours."

"Thank you kindly, no. I must ride into Wells. Why," he said, pulling the sleeve of Melville's dressing-gown, "you look like an Eastern Rajah!

Your brother's blue jacket shows it off grandly. Upon my word, we are all very plain folks when compared with the master of Fair Acres."

Then, slipping a s.h.i.+lling into old Thomas's hand, Mr. Paget mounted his horse and rode away.

"A regular old country b.u.mpkin!" Melville exclaimed. "He looks as if he had come out of the Ark, and taken the pattern of Noah's coat!"

"He is a splendid old fellow," Harry said. "I wish we had more county gentlemen like him. But I am rather sorry I did not offer to go on the box of the carriage. I hope Joyce won't get into any crowd, or come in for stone throwing and uproar."

"Oh, bother it! She will be all right. No one would want to steal her children; there is enough of that article in the world and to spare, without taking other people's."

Harry was nevertheless uneasy.

The unsettled condition of the whole district was becoming daily more serious. The popular cry in Bristol only the year before had been for Sir Charles Wetherall, and no Popery!

The people who went out to meet him when he came to open the a.s.size, had cheered and applauded him, trying to take the horses out of the carriage and drag him into the city in triumph. But now a change had come over the mind of the people, and the Reform Bill was exciting them to frenzy and hatred of every man who opposed it, of whom their once idolized Recorder was one of the most prominent.

As we look back over the half century which lies between our own days and those of the great riots in the ancient city of Bristol, it is strange to mark how the questions, then so furiously contested, are now settled; how the pendulum, then swinging so violently, has subsided into a more regular beat; how even the second Reform Bill, carried by a large majority, is now a thing of the past; how the exclusion of any one from holding office, parliamentary or social, on the ground of religion, is now considered an act of tyrannical, and ill-judged interference, between the conscience of a man, and his duty to G.o.d.

These fifty years, full of the great events so strongly marked by the discoveries of science, are full also of lessons, which we do well to ponder. They seem to take the text and preach patience to those who are hot-headed, and eager to press on any reform, or to advocate, with intemperate zeal, any scheme, even though they honestly believe it is for the good of the people.

The wise advice of the Poet Laureate seems worthy to be followed at this very moment, when the kingdom is, from one end to the other, vibrating with the burning questions which shall decide the success, or non-success, of the two great parties which divide the nation:

"Have patience--ourselves are full Of social wrong; and maybe wildest dreams Are but the needful preludes of the truth.

This fine old world of ours is but a child Yet in the go-cart. _Patience!_ Give it time To learn its limbs--there is _a Hand that guides_."

The carriage containing the happy mother and her children went merrily on its way to Bristol.