CHAPTER VII. THE CURATES AT TEA.

agoodman,andthathewasneverkindtoher.Sherecollected—adarkrecollectionitwas—someweeksthatshehadspentwithhiminagreattownsomewhere,whenshehadhadnomaidtodressherortakecareofherwhenshehadbeenshutup,dayandnight,inahighgarret-room,withoutacarpet,withabareuncurtainedbed,andscarcelyanyotherfurniturewhenhewentoutearlyeverymorning,andoftenforgottoreturnandgiveherherdinnerduringtheday,andatnight,whenhecameback,waslikeamadman,furious,terrible,or—stillmorepainful—likeanidiot,imbecile,senseless.Sheknewshehadfallenillinthisplace,andthatonenight,whenshewasverysickhehadcomeravingintotheroom,andsaidhewouldkillher,forshewasaburdentohim.Herscreamshadbroughtaidandfromthemomentshewasthenrescuedfromhimshehadneverseenhim,exceptasadeadmaninhiscoffin. Thatwasherfather.Alsoshehadamother,thoughMr.Helstoneneverspoketoherofthatmother,thoughshecouldnotrememberhavingseenherbutthatshewasalivesheknew.Thismotherwasthenthedrunkard'swife.Whathadtheirmarriagebeen?Caroline,turningfromthelattice,whenceshehadbeenwatchingthestarlings(thoughwithoutseeingthem),inalowvoice,andwithasad,bittertone,thusbrokethesilenceoftheroom,— "Youtermmarriagemiserable,Isuppose,fromwhatyousawofmyfatherandmother's.IfmymothersufferedwhatIsufferedwhenIwaswithpapa,shemusthavehadadreadfullife." Mr.Helstone,thusaddressed,wheeledaboutinhischair,andlookedoverhisspectaclesathisniece.Hewastakenaback. Herfatherandmother!Whathadputitintoherheadtomentionherfatherandmother,ofwhomhehadnever,duringthetwelveyearsshehadlivedwithhim,spokentoher?Thatthethoughtswereself-matured,thatshehadanyrecollectionsorspeculationsaboutherparents,hecouldnotfancy. "Yourfatherandmother?Whohasbeentalkingtoyouaboutthem?" "NobodybutIremembersomethingofwhatpapawas,andIpitymamma.Whereisshe?" This"Whereisshe?"hadbeenonCaroline'slipshundredsoftimesbefore,buttillnowshehadneverutteredit. "Ihardlyknow,"returnedMr.Helstone"Iwaslittleacquaintedwithher.Ihavenotheardfromherforyears:butwhereversheis,shethinksnothingofyousheneverinquiresaboutyou.Ihavereasontobelieveshedoesnotwishtoseeyou.Come,itisschool-time.Yougotoyourcousinatten,don'tyou?Theclockhasstruck." PerhapsCarolinewouldhavesaidmorebutFanny,comingin,informedhermasterthatthechurchwardenswantedtospeaktohiminthevestry.Hehastenedtojointhem,andhisniecepresentlysetoutforthecottage. TheroadfromtherectorytoHollow'sMillinclineddownwardssheran,therefore,almostalltheway.Exercise,thefreshair,thethoughtofseeingRobert,atleastofbeingonhispremises,inhisvicinage,revivedhersomewhatdepressedspiritsquickly.Arrivinginsightofthewhitehouse,andwithinhearingofthethunderingmillanditsrushingwatercourse,thefirstthingshesawwasMooreathisgardengate.Therehestood,inhisbeltedHollandblouse,alightcapcoveringhishead,whichundresscostumesuitedhim.Hewaslookingdownthelane,notinthedirectionofhiscousin'sapproach.Shestopped,withdrawingalittlebehindawillow,andstudiedhisappearance. "Hehasnothispeer,"shethought."Heisashandsomeasheisintelligent.Whatakeeneyehehas!Whatclearly-cut,spiritedfeatures—thinandserious,butgraceful!Idolikehisface,Idolikehisaspect,Idolikehimsomuch—betterthananyofthoseshufflingcurates,forinstance—betterthananybodybonnyRobert!" Shesought"bonnyRobert's"presencespeedily.Forhispart,whenshechallengedhissight,Ibelievehewouldhavepassedfrombeforehereyeslikeaphantom,ifhecouldbutbeingatallfact,andnofiction,hewasobligedtostandthegreeting.Hemadeitbrief.Itwascousin-like,brother-like,friend-like,anythingbutlover-like.Thenamelesscharmoflastnighthadlefthismanner:hewasnolongerthesameman:or,atanyrate,thesameheartdidnotbeatinhisbreast.Rudedisappointment,sharpcross!Atfirsttheeagergirlwouldnotbelieveinthechange,thoughshesawandfeltit.Itwasdifficulttowithdrawherhandfromhis,tillhehadbestowedatleastsomethinglikeakindpressureitwasdifficulttoturnhereyesfromhiseyes,tillhislookshadexpressedsomethingmoreandfonderthanthatcoolwelcome. Alovermasculinesodisappointedcanspeakandurgeexplanation,aloverfemininecansaynothingifshedid,theresultwouldbeshameandanguish,inwardremorseforself-treachery.Naturewouldbrandsuchdemonstrationasarebellionagainstherinstincts,andwouldvindictivelyrepayitafterwardsbythethunderboltofself-contemptsmitingsuddenlyinsecret.Takethematterasyoufindit:asknoquestions,utternoremonstrancesitisyourbestwisdom.Youexpectedbread,andyouhavegotastone:breakyourteethonit,anddon'tshriekbecausethenervesaremartyrizeddonotdoubtthatyourmentalstomach—ifyouhavesuchathing—isstrongasanostrich'sthestonewilldigest.Youheldoutyourhandforanegg,andfateputintoitascorpion.Shownoconsternation:closeyourfingersfirmlyuponthegiftletitstingthroughyourpalm.Nevermindintime,afteryourhandandarmhaveswelledandquiveredlongwithtorture,thesqueezedscorpionwilldie,andyouwillhavelearnedthegreatlessonhowtoendurewithoutasob.Forthewholeremnantofyourlife,ifyousurvivethetest—some,itissaid,dieunderit—youwillbestronger,wiser,lesssensitive.Thisyouarenotawareof,perhaps,atthetime,andsocannotborrowcourageofthathope.Nature,however,ashasbeenintimated,isanexcellentfriendinsuchcases,sealingthelips,interdictingutterance,commandingaplaciddissimulation—adissimulationoftenwearinganeasyandgaymienatfirst,settlingdowntosorrowandpalenessintime,thenpassingaway,andleavingaconvenientstoicism,notthelessfortifyingbecauseitishalf-bitter. Half-bitter!Isthatwrong?Noitshouldbebitter:bitternessisstrength—itisatonic.Sweet,mildforcefollowingacutesufferingyoufindnowheretotalkofitisdelusion.Theremaybeapatheticexhaustionaftertherack.Ifenergyremains,itwillberatheradangerousenergy—deadlywhenconfrontedwithinjustice. Whohasreadtheballadof"PuirMaryLee"—thatoldScotchballad,writtenIknownotinwhatgenerationnorbywhathand?Maryhadbeenill-used—probablyinbeingmadetobelievethattruthwhichwasfalsehood.Sheisnotcomplaining,butsheissittingaloneinthesnowstorm,andyouhearherthoughts.Theyarenotthethoughtsofamodelheroineunderhercircumstances,buttheyarethoseofadeeply-feeling,strongly-resentfulpeasant-girl.Anguishhasdrivenherfromtheingle-nookofhometothewhite-shroudedandicyhills.Crouchedunderthe"caulddrift,"sherecallseveryimageofhorror—"theyellow-wymedask,""thehairyadder,""theauldmoon-bowingtyke,""theghaistate'en,","thesourbullister,""themilkonthetaed'sback."Shehatesthese,but"waurshehatesRobin-a-Ree." "Oh,anceIlivedhappilybyyonbonnyburn— Thewarldwasinlovewi'me ButnowImaunsit'neaththecaulddriftandmourn, AndcurseblackRobin-a-Ree! "Thenwhudderawa,thoubitterbitingblast, Andsoughthroughthescruntytree, Andsmoormeupinthesnawfu'fast, Andn'erletthesunmesee! "Oh,nevermeltawa,thouwreatho'snaw, That'ssaekindingravingmeButhidemefraethescornandguffaw O'villainslikeRobin-a-Ree!" ButwhathasbeensaidinthelastpageortwoisnotgermanetoCarolineHelstone'sfeelings,ortothestateofthingsbetweenherandRobertMoore.Roberthaddonehernowronghehadtoldhernolieitwasshethatwastoblame,ifanyonewas.Whatbitternessherminddistilledshouldandwouldbepouredonherownhead.Shehadlovedwithoutbeingaskedtolove—anatural,sometimesaninevitablechance,butbigwithmisery. Robert,indeed,hadsometimesseemedtobefondofherbutwhy?Becauseshehadmadeherselfsopleasingtohim,hecouldnot,inspiteofallhisefforts,helptestifyingastateoffeelinghisjudgmentdidnotapprovenorhiswillsanction.Hewasabouttowithdrawdecidedlyfromintimatecommunicationwithher,becausehedidnotchoosetohavehisaffectionsinextricablyentangled,nortobedrawn,despitehisreason,intoamarriagehebelievedimprudent.Now,whatwasshetodo?Togivewaytoherfeelings,ortovanquishthem?Topursuehim,ortoturnuponherself?Ifsheisweak,shewilltrythefirstexpedient—willlosehisesteemandwinhisaversionifshehassense,shewillbeherowngovernor,andresolvetosubdueandbringunderguidancethedisturbedrealmofheremotions.Shewilldeterminetolookonlifesteadily,asitistobegintolearnitsseveretruthsseriously,andtostudyitsknottyproblemsclosely,conscientiously. Itappearedshehadalittlesense,forshequittedRobertquietly,withoutcomplaintorquestion,withoutthealterationofamuscleorthesheddingofatear,betookherselftoherstudiesunderHortenseasusual,andatdinner-timewenthomewithoutlingering. Whenshehaddined,andfoundherselfintherectorydrawing-roomalone,havingleftheruncleoverhistemperateglassofportwine,thedifficultythatoccurredtoandembarrassedherwas,"HowamItogetthroughthisday?" Lastnightshehadhopeditwouldbespentasyesterdaywas,thattheeveningwouldbeagainpassedwithhappinessandRobert.Shehadlearnedhermistakethismorningandyetshecouldnotsettledown,convincedthatnochancewouldoccurtorecallhertoHollow'sCottage,ortobringMooreagainintohersociety. Hehadwalkedupafterteamorethanoncetopassanhourwithheruncle.Thedoor-bellhadrung,hisvoicehadbeenheardinthepassagejustattwilight,whenshelittleexpectedsuchapleasureandthishadhappenedtwiceafterhehadtreatedherwithpeculiarreserveandthoughherarelytalkedtoherinheruncle'spresence,hehadlookedatherrelentinglyashesatoppositeherwork-tableduringhisstay.Thefewwordshehadspokentoherwerecomfortinghismanneronbiddinghergood-nightwasgenial.Now,hemightcomethisevening,saidFalseHope.ShealmostknewitwasFalseHopewhichbreathedthewhisper,andyetshelistened. Shetriedtoread—herthoughtswanderedshetriedtosew—everystitchsheputinwasanennui,theoccupationwasinsufferablytedioussheopenedherdeskandattemptedtowriteaFrenchcomposition—shewrotenothingbutmistakes. Suddenlythedoor-bellsharplyrangherheartleapedshesprangtothedrawing-roomdoor,openeditsoftly,peepedthroughtheaperture.Fannywasadmittingavisitor—agentleman—atallman—justtheheightofRobert.ForonesecondshethoughtitwasRobert—foronesecondsheexultedbutthevoiceaskingforMr.Helstoneundeceivedher.ThatvoicewasanIrishvoice,consequentlynotMoore's,butthecurate's—Malone's