The Heir of Redclyffe
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Charlotte M. Yonge >> The Heir of Redclyffe
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'Must I really go?'
'He begins to think it serious,' said Charles.
'Is Philip going?' exclaimed Guy, looking as if he was taken by
surprise.
'He is going to say something about dancing being a healthful
recreation for young people,' said Charles.
'You'll be disappointed,' said Philip. 'It is much too hot to
moralize.'
'Apollo unbends his bow,' exclaimed Charles. 'The captain yields the
field.'
'Ah! Captain Morville, I ought to have congratulated you,' said Guy.
'I must come to Broadstone early enough to see you on parade.'
'Come to Broadstone! You aren't still bound to Mr. Lascelles,' said
Charles.
'If he has time for me,' said Guy. 'I am too far behind the rest of
the world to afford to be idle this vacation.'
'That's right, Guy,' exclaimed Philip, sitting up, and looking full of
approval. 'With so much perseverance, you must get on at last. How
did you do in collections?'
'Tolerably, thank you.'
'You must be able to enter into the thing now,' proceeded Philip.
'What are you reading?'
'Thucydides.'
'Have you come to Pericles' oration? I must show you some notes that I
have on that. Don't you get into the spirit of it now?'
'Up-hill work still,' answered Guy, disentangling some cliders from the
silky curls of Bustle's ear.
'Which do you like best--that or the ball?' asked Charles.
'The hay-field best of all,' said Guy, releasing Bustle, and blinding
him with a heap of hay.
'Of course!' said Charlotte, 'who would not like hay-making better than
that stupid ball?'
'Poor Charlotte!' said Mrs. Edmonstone; commiseration which irritated
Charlotte into standing up and protesting,
'Mamma, you know I don't want to go.'
'No more do I, Charlotte,' said her brother, in a mock consoling tone.
'You and I know what is good for us, and despise sublunary vanities.'
'But you will go, Guy,' said Laura; 'Philip is really going.'
'In spite of Lord Kilcoran's folly in going to such an expense as
either taking Allonby or giving the ball,' said Charles.
'I don't think it is my business to bring Lord Kilcoran to a sense of
his folly,' said Philip. 'I made all my protests to Maurice when first
he started the notion, but if his father chose to take the matter up,
it is no concern of mine.'
'You will understand, Guy,' said Charles, 'that this ball is specially
got up by Maurice for Laura's benefit.'
'Believe as little as you please of that speech, Guy,' said Laura; 'the
truth is that Lord Kilcoran is very good-natured, and Eveleen was very
much shocked to hear that Amy had never been to any ball, and I to only
one, and so it ended in their giving one.'
'When is it to be?'
'On Thursday week,' said Amy. 'I wonder if you will think Eveleen as
pretty as we do!'
'She is Laura's great friend, is not she?'
'I like her very much; I have known her all my life, and she has much
more depth than those would think who only know her manner.' And Laura
looked pleadingly at Philip as she spoke.
'Are there any others of the family at home?' said Guy.
'The two younger girls, Mabel and Helen, and the little boys,' said
Amy. 'Lord de Courcy is in Ireland, and all the others are away.'
'Lord de Courcy is the wisest man of the family, and sets his face
against absenteeism,' said Philip, 'so he is never visible here.'
'But you aren't going to despise it, I hope, Guy,' said Amy, earnestly;
'it will be so delightful! And what fun we shall have in teaching you
to dance!'
Guy stretched himself, and gave a quaint grunt.
'Never mind, Guy,' said Philip, 'very little is required. You may
easily pass in the crowd. I never learnt.'
'Your ear will guide you,' said Laura.
'And no one can stay at home, since Mary Ross is going,' said Amy.
'Eveleen was always so fond of her, that she came and forced a promise
from her by telling her she should come with mamma, and have no
trouble.'
'You have not seen Allonby,' said Laura. 'There are such Vandykes, and
among them, such a King Charles!'
'Is not that the picture,' said Charles, 'before which Amy--'
'0 don't, Charlie!'
'Was found dissolved in tears?'
'I could not help it,' murmured Amy, blushing crimson.
'There is all Charles's fate in his face,' said Philip,--'earnest,
melancholy, beautiful! It would stir the feelings--were it an unknown
portrait. No, Amy, you need not be ashamed of your tears.'
But Amy turned away, doubly ashamed.
'I hope it is not in the ball-room,' said Guy.
'No said Laura, 'it is in the library.'
Charlotte, whose absence had become perceptible from the general
quietness, here ran up with two envelopes, which she put into Guy's
hands. One contained Lady Kilcoran's genuine card of invitation for
Sir Guy Morville, the other Charlotte had scribbled in haste for Mr.
Bustle.
This put an end to all rationality. Guy rose with a growl and a roar,
and hunted her over half the field, till she was caught, and came back
out of breath and screaming, 'We never had such a haymaking!'
'So I think the haymakers will say!' answered her mother, rising to go
indoors. 'What ruin of haycocks!'
'Oh, I'll set all that to rights,' said Guy, seizing a hay-fork.
'Stop, stop, take care!' cried Charles. 'I don't want to be built up
in the rick, and by and by, when my disconsolate family have had all
the ponds dragged for me, Deloraine will be heard to complain that they
give him very odd animal food.'
'Who could resist such a piteous appeal!' said Guy, helping him to
rise, and conducting him to his wheeled chair. The others followed,
and when, shortly after, Laura looked out at her window, she saw Guy,
with his coat off, toiling like a real haymaker, to build up the cocks
in all their neat fairness and height, whistling meantime the 'Queen of
the May,' and now and then singing a line. She watched the old cowman
come up, touching his hat, and looking less cross than usual; she saw
Guy's ready greeting, and perceived they were comparing the forks and
rakes, the pooks and cocks of their counties; and, finally, she beheld
her father ride into the field, and Guy spring to meet him.
No one could have so returned to what was in effect a home, unless his
time had been properly spent; and, in fact, all that Mr. Edmonstone or
Philip could hear of him, was so satisfactory, that Philip pronounced
that the first stage of the trial had been passed irreproachably, and
Laura felt and looked delighted at this sanction to the high estimation
in which she held him.
His own account of himself to Mrs. Edmonstone would not have been
equally satisfactory if she had not had something else to check it
with. It was given by degrees, and at many different times, chiefly as
they walked round the garden in the twilight of the summer evenings,
talking over the many subjects mentioned in the letters which had
passed constantly. It seemed as if there were very few to whom Guy
would ever give his confidence; but that once bestowed, it was with
hardly any reserve, and that was his great relief and satisfaction to
pour out his whole mind, where he was sure of sympathy.
To her, then, he confided how much provoked he was with himself, his
'first term,' he said, 'having only shown him what an intolerable fool
he had to keep in order.' By his account, he could do nothing 'without
turning his own head, except study, and that stupefied it.' 'Never was
there a more idle fellow; he could work himself for a given time, but
his sense would not second him; and was it not most absurd in him to
take so little pleasure in what was his duty, and enjoy only what was
bad for him?'
He had tried boating, but it had distracted him from his work; so he
had been obliged to give it up, and had done so in a hasty vehement
manner, which had caused offence, and for which he blamed himself. It
had been the same with other things, till he had left himself no
regular recreation but walking and music. 'The last,' he said, 'might
engross him in the same way; but he thought (here he hesitated a
little) there were higher ends for music, which made it come under Mrs.
Edmonstone's rule, of a thing to be used guardedly, not disused.' He
had resumed light reading, too, which he had nearly discontinued before
he went to Oxford. 'One wants something,' he said, 'by way of
refreshment, where there is no sea nor rock to look at, and no Laura
and Amy to talk to.'
He had made one friend, a scholar of his own college, of the name of
Wellwood. This name had been his attraction; Guy was bent on
friendship with him; if, as he tried to make him out to be, he was the
son of that Captain Wellwood whose death had weighed so heavily on his
grandfather's conscience, feeling almost as if it were his duty to ask
forgiveness in his grandfather's name, yet scarcely knowing how to
venture on advances to one to whom his name had such associations.
However, they had gradually drawn together, and at length entered on
the subject, and Guy then found he was the nephew, not the son of
Captain Wellwood; indeed, his former belief was founded on a
miscalculation, as the duel had taken place twenty-eight years ago. He
now heard all his grandfather had wished to know of the family. There
were two unmarried daughters, and their cousin spoke in the highest
terms of their self-devoted life, promising what Guy much wished, that
they should hear what deep repentance had followed the crime which had
made them fatherless. He was to be a clergyman, and Guy admired him
extremely, saying, however, that he was so shy and retiring, it was
hard to know him well.
From not having been at school, and from other causes, Guy had made few
acquaintance; indeed, he amused Mrs. Edmonstone by fearing he had been
morose. She was ready to tell him he was an ingenious self-tormentor;
but she saw that the struggle to do right was the main spring of the
happiness that beamed round him, in spite of his self-reproach, heart-
felt as it was. She doubted whether persons more contented with
themselves were as truly joyous, and was convinced that, while thus
combating lesser temptations, the very shadow of what are generally
alone considered as real temptations would hardly come near him.
If it had not been for these talks, and now and then a thoughtful look,
she would have believed him one of the most light-hearted and merriest
of beings. He was more full of glee and high spirits than she had ever
seen him; he seemed to fill the whole house with mirth, and keep every
one alive by his fun and frolic, as blithe and untiring as Maurice de
Courcy himself, though not so wild.
Very pleasant were those summer days--reading, walking, music,
gardening. Did not they all work like very labourers at the new arbour
in the midst of the laurels, where Charles might sit and see the spires
of Broadstone? Work they did, indeed! Charles looking on from his
wheeled chair, laughing to see Guy sawing as if for his living and Amy
hammering gallantly, and Laura weaving osiers, and Charlotte flying
about with messages.
One day, they were startled by an exclamation from Charles. 'Ah, ha!
Paddy, is that you?' and beheld the tall figure of a girl, advancing
with a rapid, springing step, holding up her riding habit with one
hand, with the other whisking her coral-handled whip. There was
something distinguished in her air, and her features, though less fine
than Laura's, were very pretty, by the help of laughing dark blue eyes,
and very black hair, under her broad hat and little waving feather.
She threatened Charles with her whip, calling out--'Aunt Edmonstone
said I should find you here. What is the fun now?'
'Arbour building,' said Charles; 'don't you see the head carpenter!'
'Sir Guy?' whispered she to Laura, looking up at him, where he was
mounted on the roof, thatching it with reed, the sunshine full on his
glowing face and white shirt sleeves.
'Here!' said Charles, as Guy swung himself down with a bound, his face
much redder than sun and work had already made it, 'here's another wild
Irisher for you.'
'Sir Guy Morville--Lady Eveleen de Courcy,' began Laura; but Lady
Eveleen cut her short, frankly holding out her hand, and saying, 'You
are almost a cousin, you know. Oh, don't leave off. Do give me
something to do. That hammer, Amy, pray--Laura, don't you remember how
dearly I always loved hammering?'
'How did you come?' said Laura.
'With papa--'tis his visit to Sir Guy. 'No, don't go,' as Guy began to
look for his coat; 'he is only impending. He is gone on to Broadstone,
but he dropped me here, and will pick me up on his way back. Can't you
give me something to do on the top of that ladder? I should like it
mightily; it looks so cool and airy.'
'How can you, Eva?' whispered Laura, reprovingly; but Lady Eveleen only
shook her head at her, and declaring she saw a dangerous nail sticking
out, began to hammer it in with such good will, that Charles stopped
his ears, and told her it was worse than her tongue. 'Go on about the
ball, do.'
'0h,' said she earnestly, 'do you think there is any hope of Captain
Morville's coming?'
'Oh yes,' said Laura.
'I am so glad! That is what papa is gone to Broadstone about. Maurice
said he had given him such a lecture, that he would not be the one to
think of asking him, and papa must do it himself; for if he sets his
face against it, it will spoil it all.'
'You may make your mind easy,' said Charles, 'the captain is lenient,
and looks on the ball as a mere development of Irish nature. He has
been consoling Guy on the difficulties of dancing.'
'Can't you dance?' said Lady Eveleen, looking at him with compassion.
'Such is my melancholy ignorance,' said Guy.
'We have been talking of teaching him,' said Laura.
'Talk! will that do it?' cried Lady Eveleen, springing up. 'We will
begin this moment. Come out on the lawn. Here, Charles,' wheeling him
along, 'No, thank you, I like it,' as Guy was going to help her.
'There, Charles, be fiddler go on, tum-tum, tee! that'll do. Amy,
Laura, be ladies. I'm the other gentleman,' and she stuck on her hat
in military style, giving it a cock. She actually set them quadrilling
in spite of adverse circumstances, dancing better, in her habit, than
most people without one, till Lord Kilcoran arrived.
While he was making his visit, she walked a little apart, arm-in-arm
with Laura. 'I like him very much,' she said; 'he looks up to anything.
I had heard so much of his steadiness, that it is a great relief to my
mind to see him so unlike his cousin.'
'Eveleen!'
'No disparagement to the captain, only I am so dreadfully afraid of
him. I am sure he thinks me such an unmitigated goose. Now, doesn't
he?'
'If you would but take the right way to make him think otherwise, dear
Eva, and show the sense you really have.'
'That is just what my fear of him won't let me do. I would not for the
world let him guess it, so there is nothing for it but sauciness to
cover one's weakness. I can't be sensible with those that won't give
me credit for it. But you'll mind and teach Sir Guy to dance; he has
so much spring in him, he deserves to be an Irishman.'
In compliance with this injunction, there used to be a clearance every
evening; Charles turned into the bay window out of the way, Mrs.
Edmonstone at the piano, and the rest figuring away, the partnerless
one, called 'puss in the corner', being generally Amabel, while
Charlotte, disdaining them all the time, used to try to make them
imitate her dancing-master's graces, causing her father to perform such
caricatures of them, as to overpower all with laughing.
Mr. Edmonstone was half Irish. His mother, Lady Mabel Edmonstone, had
never thoroughly taken root in England, and on his marriage, had gone
with her daughter to live near her old home in Ireland. The present
Earl of Kilcoran was her nephew, and a very close intercourse had
always been kept up between the families, Mr. and Mrs. Edmonstone being
adopted by their younger cousins as uncle and aunt, and always so
called.
The house at Allonby was in such confusion, that the family there
expected to dine nowhere on the day of the ball, and the Hollywell
party thought it prudent to secure their dinner at home, with Philip
and Mary Ross, who were to go with them.
By special desire, Philip wore his uniform; and while the sisters were
dressing Charlotte gave him a thorough examination, which led to a talk
between him and Mary on accoutrements and weapons in general; but while
deep in some points of chivalrous armour, Mary's waist was pinched by
two mischievous hands, and a little fluttering white figure danced
around her.
'0 Amy! what do you want with me?'
'Come and be trimmed up,' said Amy.
'I thought you told me I was to have no trouble. I am dressed,' said
Mary, looking complacently at her full folds of white muslin.
'No more you shall; but you promised to do as you were told.' And Amy
fluttered away with her.
'Do you remember,' said Philip, 'the comparison of Rose Flammock
dragging off her father, to a little carved cherub trying to uplift a
solid monumental hero?'
'0, I must tell Mary!' cried Charlotte; but Philip stopped her, with
orders not to be a silly child.
'It is a pity Amy should not have her share,' said Charles.
'The comparison to a Dutch cherub?' asked Guy.
'She is more after the pattern of the little things on little wings, in
your blotting-book,' said Charles; 'certain lines in the predicament of
the cherubs of painters--heads "et proeterea nihil".'
'0 Guy, do you write verses? cried Charlotte.
'Some nonsense,' muttered Guy, out of countenance; 'I thought I had
made away with that rubbish; where is it?'
'In the blotting-book in my room,' said Charles. 'I must explain that
the book is my property, and was put into your room when mamma was
beautifying it for you, as new and strange company. On its return to
me, at your departure, I discovered a great accession of blots and
sailing vessels, beside the aforesaid little things.'
'I shall resume my own property,' said Guy, departing in haste.
Charlotte ran after him, to beg for a sight of it; and Philip asked
Charles what it was like.
'A romantic incident,' said Charles, 'just fit for a novel. A Petrarch
leaving his poems about in blotting-books.'
Charles used the word Petrarch to stand for a poet, not thinking what
lady's name he suggested; and he was surprised at the severity of
Philip's tone as he inquired, 'Do you mean anything, or do you not?'
Perceiving with delight that he had perplexed and teased, he rejoiced
in keeping up the mystery:
'Eh? is it a tender subject with you, too?'
Philip rose, and standing over him, said, in a low but impressive tone:
'I cannot tell whether you are trifling or not; but you are no boy now,
and can surely see that this is no subject to be played with. If you
are concealing anything you have discovered, you have a great deal to
answer for. I can hardly imagine anything more unfortunate than that
he should become attached to either of your sisters.'
'Et pourquoi?' asked Charles, coolly.
'I see,' said Philip, retreating to his chair, and speaking with great
composure, 'I did you injustice by speaking seriously.' Then, as his
uncle came into the room, he asked some indifferent question, without
betraying a shade of annoyance.
Charles meanwhile congratulated himself on his valour in keeping his
counsel, in spite of so tall a man in scarlet; but he was much nettled
at the last speech, for if a real attachment to his sister had been in
question, he would never have trifled about it. Keenly alive to his
cousin's injustice, he rejoiced in having provoked and mystified the
impassable, though he little knew the storm he had raised beneath that
serene exterior of perfect self-command.
The carriages were announced, and Mr. Edmonstone began to call the
ladies, adding tenfold to the confusion in the dressing-room. There
was Laura being completed by the lady's maid, Amabel embellishing Mary,
Mrs. Edmonstone with her arm loaded with shawls, Charlotte flourishing
about. Poor Mary--it was much against her will--but she had no heart
to refuse the wreath of geraniums that Amy's own hands had woven for
her; and there she sat, passive as a doll, though in despair at their
all waiting for her. For Laura's toilette was finished, and every one
began dressing her at once; while Charlotte, to make it better,
screamed over the balusters that all were ready but Mary. Sir Guy was
heard playing the 'Harmonious Blacksmith,' and Captain Morville's step
was heard, fast and firm. At last, when a long chain was put round her
neck, she cried out, 'I have submitted to everything so far; I can bear
no more!' jumped up, caught hold of her shawl, and was putting it on,
when there was a general outcry that they must exhibit themselves to
Charles.
They all ran down, and Amy, flying up to her brother, made a splendid
sweeping curtsey, and twirled round in a pirouette.
'Got up, regardless of expense!' cried Charles; 'display yourselves.'
The young ladies ranged themselves in imitation of the book of
fashions. The sisters were in white, with wreaths of starry jessamine.
It was particularly becoming to Laura's bella-donna lily complexion,
rich brown curls, and classical features, and her brother exclaimed:
'Laura is exactly like Apollo playing the lyre, outside mamma's old
manuscript book of music.'
'Has not Amy made beautiful wreaths?' said Laura. 'She stripped the
tree, and Guy had to fetch the ladder, to gather the sprays on the top
of the wall.'
'Do you see your bit of myrtle, Guy,' said Amy, pointing to it, on
Laura's head, 'that you tried to persuade me would pass for jessamine?'
'Ah! it should have been all myrtle,' said Guy.
Philip leant meantime against the door. Laura only once glanced
towards him, thinking all this too trifling for him, and never
imagining the intense interest with which he gave a meaning to each
word and look.
'Well done, Mary!' cried Charles, 'they have furbished you up
handsomely.'
Mary made a face, and said she should wonder who was the fashionable
young lady she should meet in the pier-glasses at Allonby. Then Mr.
Edmonstone hurried them away, and they arrived in due time.
The saloon at Allonby was a beautiful room, one end opening into a
conservatory, full of coloured lamps, fresh green leaves, and hot-house
plants. There they found as yet only the home party, the good-natured,
merry Lord Kilcoran, his quiet English wife, who had bad health, and
looked hardly equal to the confusion of the evening; Maurice, and two
younger boys; Eveleen, and her two little sisters, Mabel and Helen.
'This makes it hard on Charlotte,' thought Amy, while the two girls
dragged her off to show her the lamps in the conservatory; and the rest
attacked Mrs. Edmonstone for not having brought Charlotte, reproaching
her with hardness of heart of which they had never believed her
capable--Lady Eveleen, in especial, talking with that exaggeration of
her ordinary manner which her dread of Captain Morville made her
assume. Little he recked of her; he was absorbed in observing how far
Laura's conduct coincided with Charles's hints. On the first
opportunity, he asked her to dance, and was satisfied with her pleased
acquiescence; but the next moment Guy came up, and in an eager manner
made the same request.
'I am engaged,' said she, with a bright, proud glance at Philip; and
Guy pursued Amabel into the conservatory, where he met with better
success. Mr. Edmonstone gallantly asked Mary if he was too old a
partner, and was soon dancing with the step and spring that had once
made him the best dancer in the county.
Mrs. Edmonstone watched her flock, proud and pleased, thinking how well
they looked and that, in especial, she had never been sensible how much
Laura's and Philip's good looks excelled the rest of the world. They
were much alike in the remarkable symmetry both of figure and feature,
the colour of the deep blue eye, and fairness of complexion.
'It is curious,' thought Mrs. Edmonstone, 'that, so very handsome as
Philip is, it is never the first thing remarked about him, just as his
height never is observed till he is compared with other people. The
fact is, that his superior sense carries off a degree of beauty which
would be a misfortune to most men. It is that sedate expression and
distinguished air that make the impression. How happy Laura looks, how
gracefully she moves. No, it is not being foolish to think no one
equal to Laura. My other pair!' and she smiled much more; 'you happy
young things, I would not wish to see anything pleasanter than your
merry faces. Little Amy looks almost as pretty as Laura, now she is
lighted up by blush and smile, and her dancing is very nice, it is just
like her laughing, so quiet, and yet so full of glee. I don't think
she is less graceful than her sister, but the complete enjoyment
strikes one more. And as to enjoyment--there are those bright eyes of
her partner's perfectly sparkling with delight; he looks as if it was a
world of enchantment to him. Never had any one a greater capacity for
happiness than Guy.'
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