The tenant of Wildfell Hall. Illustrated by A. Pearse

TKHorlfc's Classics

LXVII
THE NOVELS

OF

CHARLOTTE, EMILY, AND
ANNE BRONTE.— V.

THE TENANT
OF WILDFELL HALL

THE TENANT
OF WILDFELL HALL

ANNE BRONTE

HENRY FROWDE

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

LONDON, NEW YORK, AND TORONTO

ANNE BKONTE

Born, Thornton, Yorks, . March 25, 1820

Died, Scarborough, . . May 28, 1849

" The Tenant of Wildfell Hall " was first published in
the year 1848, and in " Tlie World's Classics" in 1906.

TtJRMBULL AND SPEARS, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH

THE

TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

CHAPTER I

You must go back with me to the autumn of 1827.

My father, as you know, was a sort of gentleman

farmer in shire ; and I, by his express desire,

succeeded him in the same quiet occupation, not very
willingly, for ambition urged me to higher aims, and
self-conceit assured me that, in disregarding its voice,
I was burying my talent in the earth, and hiding my
light under a bushel. My mother had done her utmost
to persuade me that I was capable of great achieve-
ments ; but my father, who thought ambition was the
surest road to ruin, and change but another word for
destruction, would listen to no scheme for bettering
either my own condition, or that of my fellow mortals.
He assured me it was all rubbish, and exhorted me,
with his dying breath, to continue in the good old way,
to follow his steps, and those of his father before him,
and let my highest ambition be, to walk honestly through
the world, looking neither to the right hand nor to
the left, and to transmit the paternal acres to my chil-
dren in, at least, as flourishing a condition as he left
them to me.

" Well ! — an honest and industrious farmer is one
of the most useful members of society ; and if I devote
my talents to the cultivation of my farm, and the im-
provement of agriculture in general, I shall thereby

A 1

2 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

benefit, not only my own immediate connections and
dependants, but, in some degree, mankind at large : —
hence I shall not have lived in vain."

With such reflections as these, I was endeavouring
to console myself, as I plodded home from the fields.
one cold, damp, cloudy evening towards the close or
October. But the gleam of a bright red fire through
the parlour window had more effect in cheering my
spirits, and rebuking my thankless repinings, than all
the sage reflections and good resolutions I had forced
my mind to frame ; — for I was young then, remember
— only four and twenty — and had not acquired half
the rule over my own spirit, that I now possess — trifling
as that may be.

However, that haven of bliss must not be entered
till I had exchanged my miry boots for a clean pair
of shoes, and my rough surtout for a respectable coat,
and made myself generally presentable before decent
society ; for my mother, with all her kindness, was
vastly particular on certain points.

In ascending to my room, I was met upon the stairs
by a smart, pretty girl of nineteen, with a tidy, dumpy
figure, a round face, bright, blooming cheeks, glossy,
clustering curls, and little merry brown eyes. I need
not tell you this was my sister Rose. She is, I know,
a comely matron still, and, doubtless, no less lovely —
in your eyes — than on the happy day you first beheld
her. Nothing told me then, that she, a few years
hence, would be the wife of one entirely unknown to
me as yet, but destined, hereafter, to become a closer
friend than even herself, more intimate than that un-
mannerly lad of seventeen, by whom 1 was collared in
the passage, on coming down, and well-nigh jerked off
my equilibrium, and who, in correction for his im-
pudence, received a resounding whack over the sconce,
which, however, sustained no serious injury from the
infliction ; as, besides being more than commonly
thick, it was protected by a redundant shock of short,
reddish curls, that my mother called auburn.

On entering the parlour, we found that honoured

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 3

lady seated in her arm-chair at the fireside, working
away at her knitting, according to her usual custom,
when she had nothing else to do. She had swept the
hearth, and made a bright blazing fire for our recep-
tion ; the servant had just brought in the tea-tray ;
and Rose was producing the sugar-basin and tea-caddy,
from the cupboard in the black, oak sideboard, that
•shone like polished ebony, in the cheerful parlour
twilight.

" Well ! here they both are," cried my mother, look-
ing round upon us without retarding the motion of
her nimble fingers, and glittering needles. " Now
shut the door, and come to the fire, while Rose gets
the tea ready ; I'm sure you must be starved ; — and
tell me what you've been about all day ; — I like to
know what my children have been about."

" I've been breaking in the grey colt — no easy busi-
ness that — directing the ploughing of the last wheat
stubble — for the ploughboy has not the sense to direct
himself — and carrying out a plan for the extensive and
efficient draining of the low meadow-lands."

" That's my brave boy ! — and Fergus — what have
you been doing?"

" Badger-baiting."

And here he proceeded to give a particular account
of his sport, and the respective traits of prowess evinced
by the badger and the dogs ; my mother pretending1 to
listen with deep attention, and watching his animated
countenance with a degree of maternal admiration I
thought highly disproportioned to its object

" It's time you should be doing something else,
Fergus," said I, as soon as a momentary pause in his
narration allowed me to get in a word.

" What can I do?" replied he ; " my mother won't
let me go to sea or enter the army ; and I'm determined
to do nothing else — except make myself such a nuisance
to you all, that you will be thankful to get rid of me
on any terms."

Our parent soothingly stroked his stiff, short curls.
He growled, and triod to look sulky, and then we all

4 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

took our seats at the table, in obedience to the thrice-
repeated summons of Rose.

" Now take your tea/' said she ; " and 111 tell you
what I've been doing. I've been to call on the
Wilsons ; and it's a thousand pities you didn't go with
me, Gilbert, for Eliza Millward was there ! "

"Well! what of her?"

" Oh, nothing ! — I'm not going to tell you about
her; — only that she's a nice, amusing little thing,
when she is in a merry humour, and I shouldn't mind
calling her "

" Hush, hush, my dear ! your brother has no such
idea ! " whispered my mother earnestly, holding up her
finger.

"Well," resumed Rose ; " I was going to tell you
an important piece of news I heard there — I've been
bursting with it ever since. You know it was reported
a month ago, that somebody was going to take Wildfell
Hall — and — what do you think ? It has actually been
inhabited above a week ! — and we never knew ! "

" Impossible ! " cried my mother.

" Preposterous ! ! ! " shrieked Fergus.

" It has indeed ! — and by a single lady I"

" Good gracious, my dear ! The place is in ruins ! "

" She has had two or three rooms made habitable ;
and there she lives, all alone — except an old woman for
a servant ! "

" Oh dear ! — that spoils it — I'd hoped she was a
witch," observed Fergus, while carving his inch-thick
slice of bread and butter.

' e Nonsense, Fergus ! But isn't it strange, mamma ? "

" Strange ! I can hardly believe it."

" But you may believe it ; for Jane Wilson has seen
her. She went with her mother, who, of course, when
she heard of a stranger being in the neighbourhood,
would be on pins and needles till she had seen her and
got all she could out of her. She is called Mrs Graham,
and she is in mourning — not widow's weeds, but slightish
mourning — and she is quite young, they say — not above
five or six and twenty — but so reserved ! They tried

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 5

all they could to find out who she was, and where she
came from, and all about her, but neither Mrs Wilson,
with her pertinacious and impertinent home-thrusts,
nor Miss Wilson, with her skilful manoeuvring, could
manage to elicit a single satisfactory answer, or even a
casual remark, or chance expression calculated to allay
their curiosity, or throw the faintest ray of light upon
her history, circumstances, or connections. Moreover,
she was barely civil to them, and evidently better
pleased to say 'good-bye/ than ' how do you do.' But
Eliza Millward says her father intends to call upon
her soon, to offer some pastoral advice, which he fears
she needs, as, though she is known to have entered the
neighbourhood early last week, she did not make her
appearance at church on Sunday ; and she — Eliza, that
is — will beg to accompany him, and is sure she can
succeed in wheedling something out of her — you know,
Gilbert, she can do anything. And we should call
some time, mamma ; it's only proper, you know."

" Of course, my dear. Poor thing ! how lonely she
must feel ! "

" And pray, be quick about it ; and mind you bring
me word how much sugar she puts in her tea, and what
sort of caps and aprons she wears, and all about it ;
for I don't know how I can live till 1 know," said
Fergus, very gravely.

But if he intended the speech to be hailed as a master-
stroke of wit, he signally failed, for nobody laughed.
However, he was not much disconcerted at that ; for
when he had taken a mouthful of bread and butter,
and was about to swallow a gulp of tea, the humour of
the thing burst upon him with such irresistible force,
that he was obliged to jump up from the table, and
rush snorting and choking from the room ; and a
minute after, was heard screaming in fearful agony in
the garden.

As for me, I was hungry, and contented myself with
silently demolishing the tea, ham, and toast, while my
mother and sister went on talking, and continued to
discuss the apparent or non-apparent circumstances,

6 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

and probable or improbable history of the mysterious
lady ; but I must confess that, after my brother's mis-
adventure, I once or twice raised the cup to my lips,
and put it down again without daring to taste the
contents, lest I should injure my dignity by a similar
explosion.

The next day, my mother and Rose hastened to pay
their compliments to the fair recluse ; and came back
but little wiser than they went ; though my mother
declared she did not regret the journey, for if she had
not gained much good, she flattered herself she had
imparted some, and that was better : she had given
some useful advice, which, she hoped, would not be
thrown away ; for Mrs Graham, though she said little
to any purpose, and appeared somewhat self-opinion-
ated, seemed not incapable of reflection — though she
did not know where she had been all her life, poor
thing, for she betrayed a lamentable ignorance on
certain points, and had not even the sense to be
ashamed of it.

" On what points, mother ? " asked I.

" On household matters, and all the little niceties of
cookery, and such things, that every lady ought to be
familiar with, whether she be required to make a
practical use of her knowledge or not. I gave her
some useful pieces of information, however, and several
excellent receipts, the value of which she evidently
could not appreciate, for she begged I would not trouble
myself, as she lived in such a plain, quiet way, that
she was sure she should never make use of them. ' No
matter, my dear,' said I ; ' it is what every respectable
female ought to know ; — and besides, though you are
alone now, you will not be always so ; you have been
married, and probably — I might say almost certainly —
will be again. ' You are mistaken there, ma'am,' said
she, almost haughtily ; ' I am certain I never shall.'—
But I told her 1 knew better."

" Some romantic young widow, I suppose," said I,
1 ' come there to end her days in solitude, and mourn in
secret for the dear departed — but it won't last long."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 7

" No, I think not," observed Rose ; " for she didn't
seem very disconsolate after all ; and she's excessively
pretty — handsome rather — you must see her, Gilbert ;
you will call her a perfect beauty, though you could
hardly pretend to discover a resemblance between her
and Eliza Millward."

" Well, I can imagine many faces more beautiful than
Eliza's, though not more charming. I allow she has
small claims to perfection ; but then, I maintain
that, if she were more perfect, she would be less
interesting."

" And so you prefer her faults to other people's
perfections ? "

"Just so — saving my mother's presence."

" Oh, my dear Gilbert, what nonsense you talk ! — I
know you don't mean it ; it's quite out of the question,"
said my mother, getting up, and bustling out of the
room, under pretence of .household business, in order
to escape the contradiction that was trembling on my
tongue.

After that, Rose favoured me with further particulars
respecting Mrs Graham. Her appearance, manners,
and dress, and the very furniture of the room she
inhabited, were all set before me, with rather more
clearness and precision than I cared to see them ; but,
as I was not a very attentive listener, I could not repeat
the description if I would.

The next day was Saturday ; and, on Sunday, every-
body wondered whether or not the fair unknown would
profit by the vicar's remonstrance, and come to church.
I confess, I looked with some interest myself towards
the old family pew, appertaining to Wildfell Hall,
where the faded crimson cushions and lining had been
impressed and unrenewed so many years, and the grim
escutcheons, with their lugubrious borders of rusty
black cloth, frowned so sternly from the wall above.

And there 1 beheld a tall, lady-like figure, clad in
black. Her face was towards me, and there was some-
thing in it, which, once seen, invited me to look again.
Her hair was raven black, and disposed in long glossy

8 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

ringlets, a style of coiffure rather unusual in those days,
but always graceful and becoming ; her complexion
was clear and pale ; her eyes I could not see, for being
bent upon her prayer-book they were concealed by their
drooping lids and long black lashes, but the brows
above were expressive and well denned ; the forehead
was lofty and intellectual, the nose a perfect aquiline,
and the features, in general, unexceptionable — only
there was a slight hollowness about the cheeks and
eyes, and the lips, though finely formed, were a little
too thin, a little too firmly compressed, and had some-
thing about them that betokened, I thought, no very
soft or amiable temper ; and I said in my heart —

" I would rather admire you from this distance, fair
lady, than be the partner of your home."

Just then, she happened to raise her eyes, and they
met mine ; I did not choose to withdraw my gaze, and
she turned again to her book, but with a momentary,
indefinable expression of quiet scorn, that was inex-
pressibly provoking to me.

" She thinks me an impudent puppy," thought I.
" Humph ! — she shall change her mind before long,
if I think it worth while. "

But then, it flashed upon me that these were very
improper thoughts for a place of worship, and that my
behaviour, on the present occasion, was anything but
what it ought to be. Previous, however, to directing
my mind to the service, I glanced round the church to
see if any one had been observing me ; — but no — all,
who were not attending to their prayer-books, were
attending to the strange lady — my good mother and
sister among the rest, and Mrs Wilson and her
daughter ; and even Eliza Millward was slily glancing
from the corners of her eyes towards the object of
general attraction. Then, she glanced at me, simpered
a little, and blushed, modestly looked at her prayer-
book, and endeavoured to compose her features.

Here I was transgressing again ; and this time I was
made sensible of it by a sudden dig in the ribs, from
the elbow of my pert brother. For the present, I could

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 9

only resent the insult by pressing my foot upon his
toes, deferring further veugeauce till we got out of
church.

Now, Hal ford, before I close this letter, I'll tell you
who Eliza Millward was ; she was the vicar's younger
daughter, and a very engaging little creature, for whom
J felt no small degree of partiality ; — and she knew it,
though I had never come to any direct explanation,
and had no dehuite intention of so doing, for my
mother, who maintained there was no one good enough
for me within twenty miles round, could not bear the
thoughts of my marrying that insignificant little thing,
who, in addition to her numerous other disqualifications,
had not twenty pounds to call her own. Elixa's figure
was at once slight and plump, her face small, and
nearly as round as my sister's — complexion, some-
thing similar to hers, but more delicate and less
decidedly blooming — nose, retrousse — features, gener-
ally irregular; — and, altogether, she was rather
charming than pretty. But her eyes— I must not
forget those remarkable features, for therein her
chief attraction lay — in outward aspect at least ; — they
were long and narrow in shape, the irids black, or very
dark brown, the expression various, and ever changing,
but always either preternaturally — I had almost said
diabolically — wicked, or irresistibly bewitching — often
both. Her voice was gentle and childish, her tread
light and soft as that of a cat ; — but her manners more
frequently resembled those of a pretty, playful kitten,
that is now pert and roguish, now timid and demure,
according to its own sweet will.

Her sister, Mary, was several years older, several
inches taller, and of a larger, coarser build — a plain,
quiet, sensible girl, who had patiently nursed their
mother through her last long, tedious illness, and
been the housekeeper, and family drudge, from thence
to the present time. She was trusted and valued by
her fatner, loved and courted by all dogs, cats, chil-
dren, and poor people, and slighted and neglected by
everybody else.

10 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

The Reverend Michael Millward himself was a tall,
ponderous, elderly gentleman, who placed a shovel-hat
above his large, square, massive-featured face, carried
a stout walking-stick in his hand, and encased his still
powerful limbs in knee-breeches and gaiters — or black
silk stockings on state occasions. He was a man of
fixed principles, strong prejudices, and regular habits,
intolerant of dissent in any shape, acting under a firm
conviction that his opinions were always right, and
whoever differed from them must be either most de-
plorably ignorant, or wilfully blind.

In childhood, I had always been accustomed to
regard him with a feeling of reverential awe — but
lately, even now, surmounted, for, though he had a
fatherly kindness for the well-behaved, he was a strict
disciplinarian, and had often sternly reproved our
juvenile failings and peccadilloes ; and moreover, in
those days whenever he called upon our parents, we
had to stand up before him, and say our catechism, or
repeat " How doth the little busy bee," or some other
hymn, or — worse than all — be questioned about his
last text, and the heads of the discourse, which we
never could remember. Sometimes, the worthy gentle-
man would reprove my mother for being over indulgent
to her sons, with a reference to old Eli, or David and
Absalom, which was particularly galling to her feel-
ings ; and, very highly as she respected him, and all
his sayings, I once heard her exclaim, "I wish to
goodness he had a son himself ! He wouldn't be so
ready with his advice to other people then ;— he'd
see what it is to have a couple of boys to keep in
order."

He had a laudable care for his own bodily health-
kept very early hours, regularly took a walk before
breakfast, was vastly particular about warm and dry
clothing, had never been known to preach a sermon
without previously swallowing a raw egg — albeit he
was gifted with good lungs and a powerful voice — and
was, generally, extremely particular about what he ate
and drank, though by no means abstemious, and having

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 11

a mode of dietary peculiar to himself — being a great
despiser of tea and such slops, and a patron of malt
liquors, bacon and eggs, ham, hung beef, and other
strong meats, which agreed well enough with his
digestive organs, and therefore were maintained by
him to be good and wholesome for everybody, and
confidently recommended to the most delicate con-
valescents or dyspeptics, who, if they failed to derive
the promised benefit from his prescriptions, were told
it was because they had not persevered, and if they
complained of inconvenient results therefrom, were
assured it was all fancy.

I will just touch upon two other persons whom I
have mentioned, and then bring this long letter to a
close. These are Mrs Wilson and her daughter. The
former was the widow of a substantial farmer, a narrow-
minded, tattling old gossip, whose character is not
worth describing. She had two sons, Robert, a rough
countrified farmer, and Richard, a retiring, studious
young man, who was studying the classics with the
vicar's assistance, preparing for college, with a view
to enter the church.

Their sister Jane was a young lady of some talents,
and more ambition. She had, at her own desire,
received a regular boarding-school education, superior
to what any member of the family had obtained before.
She had taken the polish well, acquired considerable
elegance of manners, quite lost her provincial accent,
and could boast of more accomplishments than the
vicar's daughters. She was considered a beauty be-
sides ; but never for a moment could she number me
amongst her admirers. She was about six and twenty,
rather tall, and very slender, her hair was neither
chestnut nor auburn, but a most decided, bright, light
red, her complexion was remarkably fair and brilliant,
her head small, neck long, chin well turned, but very
short, lips thin and red, eyes clear hazel, quick and
penetrating, but entirely destitute of poetry or feeling.
She had, or might have had, many suitors in her own
rank of life, but scornfully repulsed or rejected them

12 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

all ; for none but a gentleman could please her refined
taste, and none but a rich one could satisfy her soaring
ambition. One gentleman there was, from whom she
had lately received some rather pointed attentions, and
upon whose heart, name, and fortune, it was whispered,
she had serious designs. This was Mr Lawrence, the
young squire, whose family had formerly occupied
Wildfell Hall, but had deserted it, some fifteen years
ago, for a more modern and commodious mansion in
the neighbouring parish.

Now, Halford, I bid you adieu for the present. This
is the first instalment of my debt. If the coin suits
you, tell me so, and I'll send you the rest at my leisure :
if you would rather remain my creditor than stuff your
purse with such ungainly heavy pieces — tell me still,
and I'll pardon your bad taste, and willingly keep the
treasure to myself.

Yours, immutably,

GILBERT MARKHAM.

CHAPTER II

I PERCEIVE with joy, my most valued friend, that the
cloud of your displeasure has passed away ; the light
of your countenance blesses me once more, and you
desire the continuation of my story ; therefore, without
more ado, you shall have it.

I think the day 1 last mentioned was a certain
Sunday, the latest in the October of 1827. On the
following Tuesday I was out with my dog and gun, in
pursuit of such game as I could find within the territory
of Linden-Car ; but finding none at all, I turned my
arms against the hawks and carrion-crows, whose de-
predations, as I suspected, had deprived me of better
prey. To this end, I left the more frequented regions,
the wooded valleys, the corn-fields and the meadow-
lands, and proceeded to mount the steep acclivity of
Wildfell, the wildest and the loftiest eminence in our

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 15

neighbourhood, where, as you ascend, the hedges,ial
well as the trees, become scanty and stunted, ti/)
former, at length, giving place to rough stone fences,
partly greened over with ivy and moss, the latter to
larches and Scotch fir-trees, or isolated blackthorns.
The fields, being rough and stony, and wholly unfit for
the plough, were mostly devoted to the pasturing of
sheep and cattle ; the soil was thin and poor : bits of
grey rock here and there peeped out from the grassy
hillocks ; bilberry plants and heather — relics of more
savage wildness — grew under the walls ; and in many of
the enclosures, ragweeds and rushes usurped supremacy
over the scanty herbage ; — but these were not my
property.

Near the top of this hill, about two miles from
Linden - Car, stood Wildfell Hall, a superannuated
mansion of the Elizabethan era, built of dark grey
stone — venerable and picturesque to look at, but, doubt-
less, cold and gloomy enough to inhabit, with its thick
stone mullions and little latticed panes, its time-eaten
air-holes, and its too lonely, too unsheltered situation
— only shielded from the war of wind and weather by
a group of Scotch firs, themselves half blighted with
storms, and looking as stern and gloomy as the Hall
itself. Behind it lay a few desolate fields, and then,
the brown heath-clad summit of the hill ; before it
(enclosed by stone walls, and entered by an iron gate
with large balls of grey granite — similar to those which
decorated the roof and gables — surmounting the gate-
posts) was a garden — once stocked with such hard
plants and flowers as could best brook the soil and
climate, and such trees and shrubs as could best endure
the gardener's torturing shears, and most readily
assume the shapes he chose to give them — now, having
been left so many years, untilled and uutrimmed,
abandoned to the weeds and the grass to the frost and
the \viad, the rain and the drought, it presented a
very singular appearance indeed. The close green
walls of privet, that had bordered the principal walk,
were two-thirds withered away, and the rest grown

12 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

all bnd all reasonable bounds ; the old boxwood swan,
ta&t sat beside the scraper, had lost its neck and half
?ts body : the castellated towers of laurel in the middle
of the garden, the gigantic warrior that stood on one
side of the gateway, and the lion that guarded the
other, were sprouted into such fantastic shapes as
resembled nothing either in heaven or earth, or in the
waters under the earth ; but, to my young imagination,
they presented all of them a goblinish appearance, that
harmonised well with the ghostly legends and dark
traditions our old nurse had told us respecting the
haunted hall and its departed occupants.

I had succeeded in killing a hawk and two crows
when I came within sight of the mansion ; and then,
relinquishing further depredations, I sauntered on, to
have a look at the old place, and see what changes had
been wrought in it by its new inhabitant. I did not like
to go quite to the front and stare in at the gate ; but I
paused beside the garden wall, and looked, and saw no
change — except in one wing, where the broken windows
and dilapidated roof had evidently been repaired, and
where a thin wreath of smoke was curling up from the
stack of chimneys.

While I thus stood, leaning on my gun, and looking
up at the dark gables, sunk in an idle reverie, weaving
a tissue of wayward fancies, in which old associations
and the fair young hermit, now within those walls,
bore a nearly equal part, I heard a slight rustling and
scrambling just within the garden ; and, glancing in
the direction whence the sound proceeded, I beheld a
tiny hand elevated above the wall : it clung to the
topmost stone, and then another little hand was raised
to take a firmer hold, and then appeared a small white
forehead, surmounted with wreaths of light brown hair,
with a pair of deep blue eyes beneath, and the upper
portion of a diminutive ivory nose.

The eyes did not notice me, but sparkled with glee
on beholding Sancho, my beautiful black and white
setter, that was coursing about the field with its muzzle
to the ground. The little creature raised its face and

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 15

called aloud to the dog. The good-natured animal
paused, looked up, and wagged his tail, hut made no
further advances. The child (a little boy, apparently
about five years old) scrambled up to the top of the
wall and called again and again ; but finding this of no
avail, apparently made up his mind, like Mahomet, to
go to the mountain, since the mountain would not
come to him, and attempted to get over ; but a crabbed
old cherry tree, that grew hard by, caught him by the
frock in one of its crooked scraggy arms that stretched
over the wall. In attempting to disengage himself,
his foot slipped, and down he tumbled — but not to the
earth ; — the tree still kept him suspended. There was
a silent struggle, and then a piercing shriek ; — but, in
an instant, I had dropped my gun on the grass, and
caught the little fellow in my arms.

1 wiped his eyes with his frock, told him he was all
right, and called Sancho to pacify him. He was just
putting his little hand on the dog's neck and beginning
to smile through his tears, when I heard, behind me,
a click of the iron gate, and a rustle of female garments,
and lo ! Mrs Graham darted upon me — her neck un-
covered, her black locks streaming in the wind.

" Give me the child ! " she said, in a voice scarce
louder than a whisper, but with a tone of startling
vehemence, and, seizing the boy, she snatched him
from me, as if some dire contamination were in my
touch, and then stood with one hand firmly clasping
his, the other on his shoulder, fixing upon me her
large, luminous, dark eyes — pale, breathless, quivering
with agitation.

" I was not harming the child, madam," said I,
scarce knowing whether to be most astonished or dis-
pleased ; " he was tumbling off the wall there ; and I
was so fortunate as to catch him, while he hung sus-
pended headlong from that tree, and prevent I know
not what catastrophe."

'•' I beg your pardon, sir," stammered she ; suddenly
calming down — the light of reason seeming to break
upon her beclouded spirit, and a faint blush mant-

16 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

ling on her cheek — ' ( I did not know you ; and I
thought "

She stooped to kiss the child, and fondly clasped her
arm round his neck.

" You thought I was going to kidnap your son, I
suppose ? "

She stroked his head with a half-embarrassed laugh,
and replied : —

" I did not know he had attempted to climb the wall.
— I have the pleasure of addressing Mr Markham, I
believe ? " she added, somewhat abruptly.

I bowed, but ventured to ask how she knew me.

(< Your sister called here, a few days ago, with Mrs
Markham."

" Is the resemblance so strong then?" I asked, in
some surprise, and not so greatly flattered at the idea
as I ought to have been.

( ' There is a likeness about the eyes and complexion,
I think," replied she, somewhat dubiously surveying my
face ; — "and I think I saw you at church on Sunday."

I smiled. — There was something either in that smile
or the recollections it awakened that was particularly
displeasing to her, for she suddenly assumed again that
proud, chilly look that had so unspeakably roused my
corruption at church — a look of repellent scorn, so
easily assumed, and so entirely without the least dis-
tortion of a single feature, that, while there, it seemed
like the natural expression of the face, and was the
more provoking to me, because I could not think it
affected.

"Good morning, Mr Markham," said she ; and with-
out another word or glance, she withdrew, with her
child, into the garden ; and I returned home, angry
and dissatisfied — I could scarcely tell you why — and
therefore will not attempt it.

I only stayed to put away my gun and powder-horn,
and give some requisite directions to one of the farm-
ing-men, and then repaired to the vicarage, to solace
my spirit and soothe my ruffled temper with the com-
pany and conversation of Eliza Millward.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 17

I found her, as usual, busy with some piece of soft
embroidery (the mania for Berlin wools nad not yet
commenced), while her sister was seated at the chimney-
corner, with the cat on her knee, mending a heap of
stockings.

" Mary — Mary ! put them away ! " Eliza was hastily
saying just as I entered the room.

" Not I, indeed ! " was the phlegmatic reply ; and
my appearance prevented further discussion.

" You're so unfortunate, Mr Markham ! " observed
the younger sister, with one of her arch, sidelong
glances. " Papa's just gone out into the parish, and
not likely to be back for an hour ! "

tc Never mind ; I can manage to spend a few minutes
with his daughters, if they'll allow me," said I, bringing
a chair to the fire, and seating myself therein, without
waiting to be asked.

" Well, if you'll be very good and amusing, we shall
not object. "

" Let your permission be unconditional, pray ; for
I came not to give pleasure, but to seek it," I
answered.

However, I thought it but reasonable to make some
slight exertion to render my company agreeable ; and
what little effort I made, was apparently pretty success-
ful, for Miss Eliza was never in a better humour. We
seemed, indeed, to be mutually pleased with each
other, and managed to maintain between us a cheerful
and animated, though not very profound conversation.
It was little better than a tete-a-tete, for Miss Millward
never opened her lips, except occasionally to correct
some random assertion or exaggerated expression of her
sister's, and once to ask her to pick up the ball of
cotton, that had rolled under the table. I did this
myself, however, as in duty bound.

" Thank you, Mr Markham," said she, as I pre-
sented it to her. " I would have picked it up myself ;
only I did not want to disturb the cat."

" Mary, dear, that won't excuse you in Mr Mark-
ham's eyes," said Eliza ; " he hates cats, I dare say,

18 THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL

as cordially as he does old maids — like all other gentle-
men. Don't you, Mr Markham ? "

"I believe it is natural for our unamiable sex to
dislike the creatures/' replied I ; ec for you ladies
lavish so many caresses upon them."

" Bless them — little darlings ! " cried she, in a
sudden burst of enthusiasm, turning round and over-
whelming her sister's pet with a shower of kisses.

"Don't, Eliza!" said Miss Millward, somewhat
gruffly, as she impatiently pushed her away.

But it was time for me to be going : make what
haste I would, I should still be too late for tea ; and
my mother was the soul of order and punctuality.

My fair friend was evidently unwilling to bid me
adieu. I tenderly squeezed her little hand at parting ;
and she repaid me with one of her softest smiles and
most bewitching glances. I went home very happy,
with a heart brimful of complacency for myself, and
overflowing with love for Eliza.

CHAPTER III

Two days after, Mrs Graham called at Linden-Car,
contrary to the expectation of Rose, who entertained
an idea that the mysterious occupant of Wildfell Hall
would wholly disregard the common observances of
civilised life — in which opinion she was supported by
the Wilsons, who testified that neither their call nor
the Millwards' had been returned as yet. Now, how-
ever, the cause of that omission was explained, though
not entirely to the satisfaction of Rose. Mrs Graham
had brought her child with her, and on my mother's
expressing surprise that he could walk so far, she
replied : —

" It is a long walk for him ; but I must have either
taken him with me, or relinquished the visit altogether ;
for I never leave him alone ; and I think, Mrs Mark-
ham, I must beg you to make my excuses to the Mill-

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 19

wards aud Mrs Wilson, when you see them, as I fear
I cannot do myself the pleasure of calling upon them
till my little Arthur is able to accompany me."

" But you have a servant," said Rose ; " could you
not leave him with her ? "

" She has her own occupations to attend to ; and
besides, she is too old to run after a child, and he is
too mercurial to be tied to an elderly woman."

" But you left him to come to church."

" Yes, once ; but I would not have left him for any
other purpose ; and I think, in future, I must contrive
to bring him with me, or stay at home."

" Is he so mischievous ? asked my mother, con-
siderably shocked.

" No," replied the lady, sadly smiling, as she stroked
the wavy locks of her son, who was seated on a low
stool at her feet, " but he is my only treasure ;
and I am his only friend, so we don't like to be
separated."

" But, my dear, I call that doting," said my plain-
spoken parent. " You should try to suppress sucli
foolish fondness, as well to save your son from ruin as
yourself from ridicule."

" Ruin ! Mrs Markham ? "

" Yes ; it is spoiling the child. Even at his age, he
ought not to be always tied to his mother's apron-
string ; he should learn to be ashamed of it."

" Mrs Markham, 1 beg you will not say such things
in his presence, at least. I trust my son will never be
ashamed to love his mother ! " said Mrs Graham, witli
a serious energy that startled the company.

.My mother attempted to appease her by an ex-
planation ; but she seemed to think enough had
been said on the subject, and abruptly turned the
conversation.

"Just as I thought," said I to myself: "the lady's
temper is none of the mildest, notwithstanding her
sweet, pale face and lofty brow, where thought and
suffering seem equally to have stamped their im-
press."

20 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

All this time, I was seated at a table on the other
side of the room, apparently immersed in the perusal of
a volume of the Farmer's Magazine, which I happened
to have been reading at the moment of our visitor's
arrival ; and, not choosing to be over civil, I had
merely bowed as she entered, and continued my
occupation as before.

In a little while, however, I was sensible that some
one was approaching me, with a light, but slow and
hesitating tread. It was little Arthur, irresistibly
attracted by my dog Sancho, that was lying at my feet.
On looking up, I beheld him standing about two yards
off, with his clear blue eyes wistfully gazing on the dog,
transfixed to the spot, not by fear of the animal, but
by a timid disinclination to approach its master. A
little encouragement, however, induced him to come
forward. The child, though shy, was not sullen. In
a minute he was kneeling on the carpet, with his arms
round Sancho's neck, and in a minute or two more,
the little fellow was seated on my knee, surveying
with eager interest the various specimens of horses,
cattle, pigs, and model farms portrayed in the volume
before me. I glanced at his mother now and then, to
see how she relished the new-sprung intimacy ; and I
saw, by the unquiet aspect of her eye, that for some
reason or other she was uneasy at the child's position.

" Arthur," said she, at length, "come here. You
are troublesome to Mr Markham : he wishes to
read."

" By no means, Mrs Graham ; pray let him stay. I
am as much amused as he is," pleaded I. But still,
with hand and eye, she silently called him to her
side.

"No, mamma," said the child; "let me look at
these pictures first ; and then I'll come, and tell you
all about them."

" We are going to have a small party on Monday,
the 5th of November," said my mother ; " and I hope
you will not refuse to make one, Mrs Graham. You
can bring your little boy with you, you know — I dare

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 21

say we shall he able to amuse him ; — and then yon can
make your own apologies to the Millwards and Wilsons
— they will all be here, I expect."

" Thank you, I never go to parties."

" Oh ! but this will be quite a family concern — early
hours, and nobody here but ourselves, and just the
Millwards and Wilsons, most of whom you already
know, and Mr Lawrence, your landlord, with whom
you ought to make acquaintance."

" I do know something of him — but you must excuse
me this time ; for the evenings, now, are dark and
damp, and Arthur, I fear, is too delicate to risk ex-
posure to their influence with impunity. We must
defer the enjoyment of your hospitality, till the return
of longer days and warmer nights."

Rose, now, at a hint from my mother, produced a
decanter of wine, with accompaniments of glasses and
cake, from the cupboard and the oak sideboard, and
the refreshment was duly presented to the guests.
They both partook of the cake, but obstinately refused
the wine, in spite of their hostess's hospitable attempts
to force it upon them. Arthur, especially, shrank
from the ruby nectar as if in terror and disgust, and
was ready to cry when urged to take it.

" Never mind, Arthur," said his mamma, " Mrs
Markham thinks it will do you good, as you were
tired with your walk ; but she will not oblige you to
take it ! — I dare say you will do very well without.
He detests the very sight of wine," she added, "and
the smell of it almost makes him sick. I have been
accustomed to make him swallow a little wine or weak
spirits-and-water, by way of medicine when he w;i>
sick, and, in fact, I have done what I could to make
him hate them."

Everybody laughed, except the young widow and
her son.

" Well, Mrs Graham," said my mother, wiping the
tears of merriment from her bright blue eyes — " well,
you surprise me ! I really gave you credit for having
more sense. — The poor child will be the veriest milksop

22 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

that ever was sopped ! Only think what a man you will
make of him, if you persist in "

" I think it a very excellent plan," interrupted Mrs
Graham with imperturbable gravity. ' ' By that means
I hope to save him from one degrading vice at least.
I wish I could render the incentives to every other
equally innoxious in his case."

' ' But by such means," said I, " you will never render
him virtuous. — What is it that constitutes virtue, Mrs
Graham? Is it the circumstance of being able and
willing to resist temptation ; or that of having no
temptations to resist ? Is he a strong man that over-
comes great obstacles and performs surprising achieve-
ments, though by dint of great muscular exertion, and
at the risk of some subsequent fatigue, or he that sits
in his chair all day, with nothing to do more laborious
than stirring the fire, and carrying his food to his
mouth ? If you would have your son to walk honour-
ably through the world, you must not attempt to clear
the stones from his path, but teach him to walk firmly
over them — not insist upon leading him by the hand,
but let him learn to go alone."

" I will lead him by the hand, Mr Markham, till he
has strength to go alone ; and I will clear as many
stones from his path as I can, and teach him to avoid
the rest — or walk firmly over them, as you say ; — for
when I have done my utmost, in the way of clearance,
there will still be plenty left to exercise all the agility,
steadiness, and circumspection he will ever have. — It
is all very well to talk about noble resistance, and
trials of virtue ; but for fifty — or five hundred men
that have yielded to temptation, show me one that has
had virtue to resist. And why should 1 take it for
granted that my son will be one in a thousand ? — and
not rather prepare for the worst, and suppose he will

be like his like the rest of mankind, unless I take

care to prevent it ? "

" You are very complimentary to us all," I observed.

" I know nothing about you — I speak of those I do
know — and when I see the whole race of mankind

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 23

(with a few rare exceptions) stumbling and blundering
along the path of life, sinking into every pitfall, and
breaking their shins over every impediment that lies in
their way, shall I not use all the means in my power to
insure for him a smoother and a safer passage f "

" Yes, but the surest means will be to endeavour
to fortify him against temptation, not to remove it out
of his way."

" I will do both, Mr Markham. God knows he will
have temptations enough to assail him, both from
within and without, when I have done all I can to
render vice as uninviting to him, as it is abominable in
its own nature — I myself have had, indeed, but few
incentives to what the world calls vice, but yet I have
experienced temptations and trials of another kind,
that have required, on many occasions, more watchful-
ness and firmness to resist, than I have hitherto been
able to muster against them. And this, I believe, is
what most others would acknowledge, who are accus-
tomed to reflection, and wishful to strive against their
natural corruptions."

" Yes," said my mother, but half apprehending her
drift ; " but you would not judge of a boy by yourself
— and my dear Mrs Graham, let me warn you in good
time against the error — the fatal error, I may call it —
of taking that boy's education upon yourself. Because
you are clever in some things, and well-informed, you
may fancy yourself equal to the task ; but indeed you
are not ; and if you persist in the attempt, believe me
you will bitterly repent it when the mischief is done/'

" I am to send him to school, I suppose, to learn to
despise his mother's authority and affection ! " said the
lady, with rather a bitter smile.

" Oh, no ! — But if you would have a boy to despise
his mother, let her keep him at home, and spend her
life in petting him up, and slaving to indulge his follies
and caprices."

" I perfectly agree with you, Mrs Markham ; but
nothing can be further from my principles and practice
than such criminal weakness as that."

24 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

"Well, hut you will treat him like a girl — you'll
spoil his spirit, and make a mere Miss Nancy of him —
you will indeed, Mrs Graham, whatever you may think.
But Pll get Mr Mill ward to talk to you about it : —
he'll tell you the consequences ; he'll set it before you
as plain as the day ; — and tell you what you ought to
do, and all about it ; — and, I don't doubt, he'll be able
to convince you in a minute."

" No occasion to trouble the vicar," said Mrs
Graham, glancing at me — 1 suppose 1 was smiling at
my mother's unbounded coniidence in that worthy
gentleman — " Mr Markham here, thinks his powers
of conviction at least equal to Mr Millward's. If I
hear not him, neither should I be convinced though
one rose from the dead, he would tell you. Well, Mr
Markham, you that maintain that a boy should not be
shielded from evil, but sent out to battle against it,
alone and unassisted — not taught to avoid the snares
of life, but boldly to rush into them, or over them, as
he may — to seek danger rather than shun it, and feed
his virtue by temptation — would you "

" I beg your pardon, Mrs Graham — but you get on
too fast. I have not yet said that a boy should be
taught to rush into the snares of life — or even wilfully
to seek temptation for the sake of exercising his virtue
by overcoming it ; — I only say that it is better to arm
and strengthen your hero, than to disarm and enfeeble
the foe ; — and if you were to rear an oak sapling in a
hot-house, tending it carefully night and day, and
shielding it from every breath of wind, you could not
expect it to become a hardy tree, like that which has
grown up on the mountain-side, exposed to all the
action of the elements, and not even sheltered from the
shock of the tempest."

" Granted ; — but would you use the same argument
with regard to a girl ? "

" Certainly not."

" No : you would have her to be tenderly and
delicately nurtured, like a hot-house plant — taught to
cling to others for direction and support, and guarded,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 25

as much as possible, from the very knowledge of evil.
But will you be so good as to inform me why you make
this distinction ? Is it that you think she has no virtue?"

" Assuredly not."

" Well, but you affirm that virtue is only elicited by
temptation ; — and you think that a woman cannot be
too little exposed to temptation, or too little acquainted
with vice, or anything connected therewith. It must
be, either, that you think she is essentially so vicious,
or so feeble-minded that she cannot withstand tempta-
tion— and though she may be pure and innocent as long
as she is kept in ignorance and restraint, yet, being
destitute of real virtue, to teach her how to sin, is at
once to make her a sinner, and the greater her know-
ledge, the wider her liberty, the deeper will be her
depravity — whereas, in the nobler sex, there is a
natural tendency to goodness, guarded by a superior
fortitude, which, the more it is exercised by trials and
dangers, is only the further developed '

" Heaven forbid that I should think so ! " I inter-
rupted her at last.

"Well then, it must be that you think they are
both weak and prone to err, and the slightest error,
the merest shadow of pollution, will ruin the one,
while the character of the other will be strengthened
and embellished — his education properly finished by a
little practical acquaintance with forbidden things.
Such experience, to him (to use a trite simile) will be
like the storm to the oak, which, though it may scatter
the leaves, and snap the smaller branches, serves but
to rivet the roots, and to harden and condense the
fibres of the tree. You would have us encourage our
sons to prove all things by their own experience, while
our daughters must not even profit by the experience
of others. Now I would have both so to benefit by
the experience of others, and the precepts of a higher
authority, that they should know beforehand to refuse
the evil and choose the good, and require no experi-
mental proofs to teach them the evil of transgression.
I would not send a poor girl into the world , unarmed

26 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

against her foes, and ignorant of the snares that
beset her path ; nor would I watch and guard
her, till, deprived of self-respect and self-reliance,
she lost the power or the will to watch and guard
herself; — and as for my son — if I thought he would
grow up to be what you call a man of the world —
one that has 'seen life,' and glories in his experi-
ence, even though he should so far profit by it as to
sober down, at length, into a useful and respected
member of society — I would rather that he died to-
morrow ! — rather a thousand times ! " she earnestly re-
peated, pressing her darling to her side and kissing his
forehead with intense affection. He had, already, left his
new companion, and been standing for some time beside
his mother's knee, looking up into her face, and listening
in silent wonder to her incomprehensible discourse.

" Well ! you ladies must always have the last word,
I suppose," said I, observing her rise, and begin to take
leave of my mother.

" You may have as many words as you please — only
I can't stay to hear them."

" No : that is the way : you hear just as much of an
argument as you please ; and the rest may be spoken to
the wind."

" If you are anxious to say anything more on the
subject," replied she, as she shook hands with Rose,
" you must bring your sister to see me some fine day,
and I'll listen, as patiently as you could wish, to what-
ever you please to say. I would rather be lectured by
you than the vicar, because I should have less remorse
in telling you, at the end of the discourse, that 1 pre-
serve my own opinion precisely the same as at the
beginning — as would be the case, I am persuaded, with
regard to either logician."

" Yes, of course," replied I, determined to be as
provoking as herself ; " for, when a lady does consent
to listen to an argument against her own opinions, she is
always predetermined to withstand it — to listen only
with her bodily ears, keeping the mental organs
resolutely closed against the strongest reasoning."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 27

" Good morning, Mr Markham," said my fair
antagonist, with a pitying smile ; and deigning no
further rejoinder, she slightly bowed, and was about to
withdraw ; but her son, with childish impertinence,
arrested her by exclaiming : —

"Mamma, you have not shaken hands with Mr
Markham ! "

She laughingly turned round, and held out her hand.
I gave it a spiteful squeeze ; for I was annoyed at the
continual injustice she had done me from the very
dawn of our acquaintance. Without knowing anything
about my real disposition and principles, she was
evidently prejudiced against me, and seemed bent upon
showing me that her opinions respecting me, on every
particular, fell far below those I entertained of myself.
I was naturally touchy, or it would not have vexed me
so much. Perhaps, too, I was a little bit spoiled by
my mother and sister, and some other ladies of my
acquaintance ; — and yet I was by no means a fop — of
that I am fully convinced, whether you are or not.

CHAPTER IV

OUR party, on the 5th of November, passed off very
well, iii spite of Mrs Graham's refusal to grace it with
her presence. Indeed, it is probable that, had she
been there, there would have been less cordiality,
freedom, and frolic amongst us than there was without
her.

My mother, as usual, was cheerful and chatty, full
of activity and good-nature, and only faulty in being
too anxious to make her guests happy, thereby forcing
several of them to do what their soul abhorred, in the
way of eating or drinking, sitting opposite the blazing
fire, or talking when they would DC silent. Never-
theless, they bore it very well, being all in their holiday
humours.

Mr Millward was mighty in important dogmas and

28 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

sententious jokes, pompous anecdotes and oracular
discourses, dealt out for the edification of the whole
assembly in general, and of the admiring Mrs Markham,
the polite Mr Lawrence, the sedate Mary Millward,
the quiet Richard Wilson, and the matter-of-fact
Robert, in particular — as being the most attentive
listeners.

Mrs Wilson was more brilliant than ever, with her
budgets of fresh news and old scandal, strung together
with trivial questions and remarks, and oft-repeated
observations, uttered apparently for the sole purpose
of denying a moment's rest to her inexhaustible organs
of speech. She had brought her knitting with her,
and it seemed as if her tongue had laid a wager with
her fingers, to outdo them in swift and ceaseless
motion.

Her daughter Jane was, of course, as graceful and
elegant, as witty and seductive, as she could possibly
manage to be ; for here were all the ladies to outshine,
and all the gentlemen to charm — and Mr Lawrence,
especially, to capture and subdue. Her little arts to
effect his subjugation were too subtle and impalpable
to attract my observation ; but I thought there was a
certain refined affectation of superiority, and an
ungenial self-consciousness about her, that negatived
all her advantages ; and after she was gone, Rose
interpreted to me her various looks, words, and actions
with a mingled acuteness and asperity that made me
wonder, equally, at the lady's artifice and my sister's
penetration, and ask myself if she too had an eye to
the squire — but never mind, Halford ; she had not.

Richard Wilson, Jane's younger brother, sat in a
corner, apparently good-tempered, but silent and shy,
desirous to escape observation, but willing enough to
listen and observe ; and, although somewhat out of his
element, he would have been happy enough in his own
quiet way, if my mother could only have let him
alone ; but in her mistaken kindness, she would keep
persecuting him with her attentions — pressing upon
him all manner of viands, under the notion that he

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 29

was too bashful to help himself, and obliging him to
shout across the room his monosyllabic replies to the
numerous questions and observations by which she
vainly attempted to draw him into conversation.

Rose informed me that he never would have favoured
us with his company, but for the importunities of his
sister Jane, who was most anxious to show Mr Lawrence
that she had at least one brother more gentlemanly
and refined than Robert. That worthy individual she
had been equally solicitous to keep away ; but he
affirmed that he saw no reason why he should not
enjoy a crack with Mark ham and the old lady (my
mother was not old, really), and bonny Miss Rose and
the parson, as well as the best ; — and he was in the
right of it too. So he talked common-place with my
mother and Rose, and discussed parish affairs with the
vicar, farming matters with me, and politics with us
both.

Mary Millward was another mute — not so much
tormented with cruel kindness as Dick Wilson, because
she had a certain short, decided way of answering and
refusing, and was supposed to be rather sullen than
diffident. However that might be, she certainly did
not give much pleasure to the company ; — nor did she
appear to derive much from it. Eliza told me she had
only come because her father insisted upon it, having
taken it into his head that she devoted herself too
exclusively to her household duties, to the neglect of
such relaxations and innocent enjoyments as were
proper to her age and sex. She seemed to me to be
good-humoured enough on the whole. Once or twice
she was provoked to laughter by the wit or the merri-
ment of some favoured individual amongst us ; and
then I observed she sought the eye of Richard Wilson,
who sat over against her. As he studied with her
father, she had some acquaintance with him, in spite
of the retiring habits of both, and I suppose there was
;i kind of fellow-feeling established between them.

My Eliza was charming beyond description, coquettish
without affectation, and evidently more desirous to en-

30 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

gage my attention than that of all the room besides.
Her delight in having me near her, seated or standing
by her side, whispering in her ear, or pressing her hand
in the dance, was plainly legible in her glowing face
and heaving bosom, however belied by saucy words and
gestures. But I had better hold my tongue : if I boast
of these things now, I shall have to blush hereafter.

To proceed, then, with the various individuals of our
party ; Rose was simple and natural as usual, and full
of mirth and vivacity.

Fergus was impertinent and absurd ; but his imper-
tinence and folly served to make others laugh, if they
did not raise himself in their estimation.

And finally (for I omit myself), Mr Lawrence was
gentlemanly and inoffensive to all, and polite to the
vicar and the ladies, especially his hostess and her
daughter, and Miss Wilson — misguided man ; he had
not the taste to prefer Eliza Millward. Mr Lawrence
and I were on tolerably intimate terms. Essentially
of reserved habits, and but seldom quitting the secluded
place of his birth, where he had lived in solitary state
since the death of his father, he had neither the oppor-
tunity nor the inclination for forming many acquaint-
ances ; and, of all he had ever known, I (judging by
the results) was the companion most agreeable to his
taste. I liked the man well enough, but he was too
cold, and shy, and self-contained, to obtain my cordial
sympathies. A spirit of candour and frankness, when
wholly unaccompanied with coarseness, he admired
in others, but he could not acquire it himself. His
excessive reserve Tipon all his own concerns was,
indeed, provoking and chilly enough ; but I forgave it,
from a conviction that it originated less in pride and
want of confidence in his friends, than in a certain
morbid feeling of delicacy, and a peculiar diffidence,
that he was sensible of, but wanted energy to evercorne.
His heart was like a sensitive plant, that opens for a
moment in the sunshine, but curls up and shrinks into
itself at the slightest touch of the finger, or the lightest
breath of wind. And, upon the whole, our intimacy

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 31

was rather a mutual predilection than a deep and solid
friendship, such as has since arisen between myself and
you, Halford, whom, in spite of your occasional crusti-
ness, I can liken to nothing so well as an old coat,
unimpeachable in texture, but easy and loose — that has
conformed itself to the shape of the wearer, and which
he may use as he pleases, without being bothered with
the fear of spoiling it ; — whereas Mr Lawrence was like
a new garment, all very neat and trim to look at, but
so tight in the elbows, that you would fear to split the
seams by the unrestricted motion of your arms, and so
smooth and fine in surface that you scruple to expose
it to a single drop of rain.

Soon after the arrival of the guests, my mother
mentioned Mrs Graham, regretted she was not there
to meet them, and explained to the Millwards and
Wilsons the reasons she had given for neglecting to
return their calls, hoping they would excuse her, as
she was sure she did not mean to be uncivil, and would
be glad to see them at any time

"But she is a very singular lady, Mr Lawrence,"
added she : " we don't know what to make of her — but
I dare say you can tell us something about her, for she
is your tenant, you know — and she said she knew you
a little."

All eyes were turned to Mr Lawrence. 1 thought
lie looked unnecessarily confused at being so appealed
to.

"I, Mrs Markham \" said he ; " you art- mistaken ;
I don't — that is — I have seen her, certainly ; but I am
the last person you should apply to for information
respecting Mrs Graham."

He then immediately turned to Rose, and asked her to
favour the company with a song, or a tune on the piano.

" No," said she, " you must ask Miss Wilson : she
outshines us all in singing and music too."

Miss Wilson demurred.

" She'll sing readily enough," said Fergus, " if you'll
undertake to stand by her, Mr Lawrence, and turn
over the leaves for her."

32 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" I shall be most happy to do so, Miss Wilson ; will
you allow me ? "

She bridled her long neck and smiled, and suffered
him to lead her to the instrument, where she played
and sang, in her very best style, one piece after
another ; while he stood patiently by, leaning one
hand on the back of her chair, and turning over the
leaves of her book with the other. Perhaps he was as
much charmed with her performance as she was. It
was all very fine in its way ; but I cannot say that it
moved me very deeply. There was plenty of skill and
execution, but precious little feeling.

But we had not done with Mrs Graham yet.

" I don't take wine, Mrs Markham," said Mr
Millward, upon the introduction of that beverage ;
"I'll take a little of your home-brewed ale. I always
prefer your home-brewed to anything else."

Flattered at this compliment, my mother rang the
bell, and a china jug of our best ale was presently
brought and set before the worthy gentleman who so
well knew how to appreciate its excellences.

1 ' Now THIS is the thing ! " cried he, pouring out a
glass of the same in a long stream, skilfully directed
from the jug to the tumbler, so as to produce much
foam without spilling a drop ; and, having surveyed it
for a moment opposite the candle, he took a deep
draught, and then smacked his lips, drew a long breath,
and refilled his glass, my mother looking on with the
greatest satisfaction.

" There's nothing like this, Mrs Markham ! " said
he. " I always maintain that there's nothing to com-
pare with your home-brewed ale."

" I'm sure I'm glad you like it, sir. I always look
after the brewing myself, as well as the cheese and the
butter — I like to have things well done, while we're
about it."

" Quite right, Mrs Markham ! "

" But then, Mr Millward, you don't think it wrong
to take a little wine now and then — or a little spirits
either ! " said my mother, as she handed a smoking

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 33

tumbler of gin-and-water to Mrs Wilson, who affirmed
that wine sat heavy on her stomach, and whose son
Robert was at that moment helping himself to a pretty
stiff glass of the same.

" By no means ! " replied the oracle, with a Jove-
like nod ; " these things are all blessings and mercies,
if we only knew how to make use of them."

" But Mrs Graham doesn't think so. You shall just
hear now what she told us the other day — I told her
I'd tell you."

And my mother favoured the company with a par-
ticular account of that lady's mistaken ideas and
conduct regarding the matter in hand, concluding with,
" Now, don't you think it is wrong? "

" Wrong ! " repeated the vicar, with more than
common solemnity — "criminal, I should say — criminal !
— Not only is it making a fool of the boy, but it is
despising the gifts of Providence, and teaching him to
trample them under his feet."

He then entered more fully into the question, and
explained at large the folly and impiety of such a
proceeding. My mother heard him with profoundest
reverence ; and even Mrs Wilson vouchsafed to rest her
tongue for a moment, and listen in silence, while she
complacently sipped her gin-and-water. Mr Lawrence
sat with his elbow on the table, carelessly playing with his
half-empty wine-glass, and covertly smiling to himself.

"But don't you think, Mr Millward," suggested
he, when at length that gentleman paused in his
discourse, " that when a child may be naturally prone
to intemperance— by the fault of its parents or an-
cestors, for instance — some precautions are advisable ?"
(Now it was generally believed that Mr Lawrence's
father had shortened his days by intemperance).

" Some precautions, it may be ; but temperance, sir,
is one thing, and abstinence another."

" But I have heard that, with some persons, tem-
perance— that is, moderation — is almost impossible ;
and if abstinence be an evil (which some have doubted),
no one will deny that excess is a greater. Some

34 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

parents have entirely prohibited their children from
tasting intoxicating liquors ; but a parent's authority
cannot last for ever : children are naturally
prone to hanker after forbidden things ; and a child,
in such a case, would be likely to have a strong curiosity
to taste, and try the effect of what has been so lauded
and enjoyed by others, so strictly forbidden to himself
— which curiosity would generally be gratified on the
first convenient opportunity ; and the restraint once
broken, serious consequences might ensue. I don't
pretend to be a judge of such matters, but it seems to
me, that this plan of Mrs Graham's, as you describe it,
Mrs Markham, extraordinary as it may be, is not with-
out its advantages ; for here you see the child is
delivered at once from temptation ; he has no secret
curiosity, no hankering desire ; he is as well acquainted
with the tempting liquors as he ever wishes to be ; and
is thoroughly disgusted with them, without having
suffered from their effects."

" And is that right, sir ? Have I not proven to you
how wrong it is — how contrary to Scripture and to
reason to teach a child to look with contempt and
disgust upon the blessings of Providence, instead of to
use them aright?"

" You may consider laudanum a blessing of Provi-
dence, sir," replied Mr Lawrence, smiling ; " and yet,
you will allow that most of us had better abstain from
it, even in moderation ; but," added he, " I would not
desire you to follow out my simile too closely — in
witness whereof I finish my glass."

" And take another, I hope, Mr Lawrence," said my
mother, pushing the bottle towards him.

He politely declined, and pushing his chair a little
away from the table, leant back towards me— I was
seated a trifle behind, on the sofa beside Eliza Mill-
ward — and carelessly asked me if I knew Mrs Graham.

" I have met her once or twice," I replied.

" What do you think of her ? "

" I cannot say that I like her much. She is hand-
some— or rather I should say distinguished and inter-

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 35

eating — in her appearance, but by no means amiable —
a woman liable to take strong prejudices, I should
fancy, and stick to them through thick and thin,
twisting everything into conformity with her own pre-
conceived opinions — too hard, too sharp, too bitter for
my taste."

He made no reply, but looked down and bit his lip,
and shortly after rose and sauntered up to Miss Wilson,
as much repelled by me, I fancy, as attracted by her.
I scarcely noticed it at the time, but afterwards, I was
led to recall this and other trifling facts, of a similar
nature, to my remembrance, when — but I must not
anticipate.

We wound up the evening with dancing — our worthy
pastor thinking it no scandal to be present on the
occasion, though one of the village musicians was en-
gaged to direct our evolutions with his violin. But
Mary Mill ward obstinately refused to join us ; and so did
Richard Wilson, though my mother earnestly entreated
him to do so, and even offered to be his partner.

We managed very well without them, however.
With a single set of quadrilles, and several country
dances, we carried it on to a pretty late hour ; and
at length, having called upon our musician to strike
up a waltz, I was just about to whirl Eliza round in
that delightful dance, accompanied by Lawrence and
Jane Wilson, and Fergus and Rose, when Mr Millward
interposed with : —

" No, no, I don't allow that ! Come, it's time to be
going now."

"Oh, no, papa ! " pleaded Eliza.

" High time, my girl — high time ! Moderation in
all things, remember ! That's the plan — ' Let your
moderation be known unto all men ! ' '

But in revenge, I followed Eliza into the dimly-
lighted passage, where, under pretence of helping her
on with her shawl, I fe/ir I must plead guilty to snatch-
ing a kiss behind her father's back, while he was
enveloping his throat and chin in the folds of a mighty
comforter. But alas ! in turning round, there was my

36 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

mother close beside me. The consequence was, that
no sooner were the guests departed, than I was doomed
to a very serious remonstrance, which unpleasantly
checked the galloping course of my spirits, and made
a disagreeable close to the evening.

" My dear Gilbert," said she, " I wish you wouldn't
do so ! You know how deeply I have your advantage
at heart, how I love you and prize you above everything
else in the world, and how much I long to see you well
settled in life — and how bitterly it would grieve me to
see you married to that girl — or any other in the
neighbourhood. What you see in her I don't know.
It isn't only the want of money that I think about —
nothing of the kind — but there's neither beauty, nor
cleverness, nor goodness, nor anything else that's
desirable. If you knew your own value, as I do, you
wouldn't dream of it. Do wait awhile and see ! If
you bind yourself to her, you'll repent it all your life-
time when you look round and see how many better
there are. Take my word for it, you will."

" Well, mother, do be quiet ! — I hate to be lectured !
— I'm not going to marry yet, I tell you ; but — dear
me ! mayn't I enjoy myself at all ? "

"Yes, my dear boy, but not in that way. Indeed,
you shouldn't do such things. You would be wronging
the girl, if she were what she ought to be ; but I assure
you she is as artful a little hussy as anybody need wish
to see ; and you'll get entangled in her snares before
you know where you are. And if you marry her,
Gilbert, you'll break my heart — so there's an end
of it." '

" Well, don't cry about it, mother," said I, for the
tears were gushing from her eyes ; " there, let that
kiss efface the one I gave Eliza ; don't abuse her any
more, and set your mind at rest ; for I'll promise never
— that is, I'll promise to think twice before I take any
important step you seriously disapprove of."

So saying, I lighted my candle, and went to bed,
considerably quenched in spirit.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 37

CHAPTER V

IT was about the close of the month, that, yielding at
length to the urgent importunities of Rose, I accom-
panied her in a visit to Wildfell Hall. To our surprise,
we were ushered into a room where the first object that
met the eye was a painter's easel, with a table beside it
covered with rolls of canvas, bottles of oil and varnish,
palette, brushes, paints, etc. Leaning against the wall
were several sketches in various stages of progression,
aud a few finished paintings — mostly of landscapes and
figures.

" I must make you welcome to my studio," said Mrs
Graham, " there is no fire in the sitting-room to-day,
and it is rather too cold to show you into a place with
an empty grate. "

And disengaging a couple of chairs from the artistical
lumber that usurped them, she bid us be seated, and
resumed her place beside the easel — not facing it
exactly, but now and then glancing at the picture
upon it while she conversed, and giving it an occasional
touch with her brush, as if she found it impossible to
wean her attention entirely from her occupation to
fix it upon her guests. It was a view of Wildfell
Hall, as seen at early morning from the field below,
rising in dark relief against a sky of clear silvery blue,
with a few red streaks on the horizon, faithfully drawn
and coloured, and very elegantly and artistically
handled.

" I see your heart is in your work, Mrs Graham,"
observed I : "I must beg you to go on with it ; for if
you suffer our presence to interrupt you, we shall
be constrained to regard ourselves as unwelcome
intruders."

" Oh, no ! " replied she, throwing her brush on to
the table, as if startled into politeness. " I am not so
beset with visitors, but that I can readily spare a few
minutes to the few that do favour me with their
company."

38 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" You have almost completed your painting/3 said I,
approaching to observe it more closely, and surveying
it with a greater degree of admiration and delight than
I cared to express. " A few more touches in the fore-
ground will finish it, I should think. But why have
you called it Fernley Manor, Cumberland, instead of

Wildfell Hall, shire?" I asked, alluding to the

name she had traced in small characters at the bottom
of the canvas.

But immediately I was sensible of having committed
an act of impertinence in so doing ; for she coloured
and hesitated ; but after a moment's pause, with a kind
of desperate frankness, she replied : —

" Because I have friends — acquaintances at least — in
the world, from whom I desire my present abode to be
concealed ; and as they might see the picture, and
might possibly recognise the style, in spite of the
false initials I have put in the corner, I take the pre-
caution to give a false name to the place also, in order
to put them on a wrong scent, if they should attempt
to trace me out by it."

" Then you don't intend to keep the picture ? " said
I, anxious to say anything to change the subject.

" No ; I cannot afford to paint for my own amuse-
ment."

" Mamma sends all her pictures to London," said
Arthur ; " and somebody sells them for her there, and
sends us the money."

In looking round upon the other pieces, I remarked
a pretty sketch of Lindenhope from the top of the
hill ; another view of the old hall, basking in the
sunny haze of a quiet summer afternoon ; and a simple
but striking little picture of a child brooding with
looks of silent but deep and sorrowful regret, over a
handful of withered flowers, with glimpses of dark low
hills and autumnal fields behind it, and a dull beclouded
sky above.

" You see there is a sad dearth of subjects," observed
the fair artist. " I took the old hall once on a moon-
light night, and I suppose I must take it again on a

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 39

snowy winter's day, and then again on a dark cloudy
evening ; for I really have nothing else to paint. I
have been told that you have a fine view of the sea,
somewhere in the neighbourhood — Is it true ? — and is
it within walking distance? "

" Yes, if you don't object to walking four miles — or
nearly so — little short of eight miles, there and back —
and over a somewhat rough, fatiguing road."
" Jn what direction does it lie r "
I described the situation as well as I could, and was
entering upon an explanation of the various roads,
lanes, and fields to be traversed in order to reach it,
the goings straight on, and turnings to the right and
the left, when she checked me with : —

" Oh, stop ! — don't tell me now : I shall forget every
word of your directions before I require them. I shall
not think about going till next spring ; and then, per-
haps, I may trouble you. At present we have the

winter before us, and "

She suddenly paused, with a suppressed exclamation,
started up from her seat, and saying, " Excuse me one
moment," hurried from the room, and shut the door
behind her.

Curious to see what had startled her so, I looked
towards the window — for her eyes had been carelessly
fixed upon it the moment before— and just beheld the
skirts of a man's coat vanishing behind a large holly-
bush that stood between the window and the porch.
" It's mamma's friend," said Arthur.
Rose and I looked at each other.
" I don't know what to make of her at all," whispered
Rose.

The child looked at her in grave surprise. She
straightway began to talk to him on indifferent
matters, while I amused myself with looking at the
pictures. There was one in an obscure corner that I
had not before observed. It was a little child, seated
on the grass with its lap full of flowers. The tiny
features and large blue eyes, smiling through a shock
of light brown curls, shaken over the forehead as it

40 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

bent above its treasure, bore sufficient resemblance to
those of the young gentleman before me, to proclaim it
a portrait of Arthur Graham in his early infancy.

In taking this up to bring it to the light, I discovered
another behind it, with its face to the wall. I ventured
to take that up too. It was the portrait of a gentleman
in the full prime of youthful manhood — handsome
enough, and not badly executed ; but, if done by the
same hand as the others, it was evidently some years
before ; for there was far more careful minuteness of
detail, and less of that freshness of colouring and
freedom of handling, that delighted and surprised me
in them. Nevertheless, I surveyed it with considerable
interest. There was a certain individuality in the
features and expression that stamped it, at once, a suc-
cessful likeness. The bright blue eyes regarded the
spectator with a kind of lurking drollery — you almost
expected to see them wink ; the lips — a little too volup-
tuously full — seemed ready to break into a smile ; the
warmly-tinted cheeks were embellished with a luxuriant
growth of reddish whiskers ; while the bright chestnut
hair, clustering in abundant, wavy curls, trespassed too
much upon the forehead, and seemed to intimate that
the owner thereof was prouder of his beauty than his
intellect — as, perhaps, he had reason to be ; — and yet
he looked no fool.

I had not had the portrait in my hands two minutes
before the fair artist returned.

" Only some one come about the pictures," said she,
in apology for her abrupt departure : " I told him to
wait."

" I fear it will be considered an act of impertinence,"
said I, "to presume to look at a picture that the artist
has turned to the wall ; but may I ask "

" It is an act of very great impertinence, sir ; and
therefore I beg you will ask nothing about it, for your
curiosity will not be gratified," replied she, attempting
to cover the tartness of her rebuke with a smile ; but I
could see, by her flushed cheek and kindling eye, that
she was seriously annoyed.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 41

" I was only going to ask if you had painted it your-
self," said I, sulkily resigning the picture into her
hands ; for without a grain of ceremony she took it
from me ; and quickly restoring it to the dark corner,
with its face to the wall, placed the other against it as
before, and then turned to me and laughed.

But I was in no humour for jesting. I carelessly
turned to the window, and stood looking out upon the
desolate garden, leaving her to talk to Rose for a
minute or two ; and then, telling my sister it was time
to go, shook hands with the little gentleman, coolly
bowed to the lady, and moved towards the door. But,
having bid adieu to Rose, Mrs Graham presented her
hand to me, saying, with a soft voice, and by no means
a disagreeable smile : —

" Let not the sun go down upon your wrath, Mr
Markham. I'm sorry I offended you by my abrupt-
ness."

When a lady condescends to apologise, there is no
keeping one's auger of course ; so we parted good
friends for once ; and this time, I squeezed her hand
with a cordial, not a spiteful pressure.

CHAPTER VI

DURING the next four months I did not enter Mrs
Grah.-im's house, nor she mine ; but still the ladies
continued to talk about her, and still our acquaintance
continued, though slowly, to advance. As for their
talk, I paid but little attention to that (when it related
to the fair hermit, I mean), and the only information
I derived from it was, that, one fine frosty day, she had
ventured to take her little boy as far as the vicarage,
and that, unfortunately, nobody was at home but MUM
Millward ; nevertheless, she had sat a long time, and,
by all accounts, they had found a good deal to say to
each other, and parted with a mutual desire to meet
again. But Mary liked children, and fond mammas
like those who cau duly appreciate their treasures.

42 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

But sometimes I saw her myself, not only when she
came to church, but when she was out on the hills
with her son, whether taking a long, purpose-like
walk, or — on special fine days — leisurely rambling
over the moor or the bleak pasture-lands surrounding
the old hall, herself with a book in her hand, her son
gambolling about her ; and, on any of these occasions,
when I caught sight of her in my solitary walks or
rides, or while following my agricultural pursuits, I
generally contrived to meet or overtake her, for I
rather liked to see Mrs Graham, and to talk to her,
and 1 decidedly liked to talk to her little companion,
whom, when once the ice of his shyness was fairly
broken, I found to be a very amiable, intelligent, and
entertaining little fellow ; and we soon became excel-
lent friends — how much to the gratification of his
mamma I cannot undertake to say. I suspected at
first that she was desirous of throwing cold water on
this growing intimacy — to quench, as it were, the
kindling flame of our friendship — but discovering, at
length, in spite of her prejudice against me, that 1 was
perfectly harmless, and even well-intentioned, and
that, between myself and my dog, her son derived a
great deal of pleasure from the acquaintance that he
would not otherwise have known, she ceased to object,
and even welcomed my coming with a smile.

As for Arthur, he would shout his welcome from
afar, and run to meet me fifty yards from his mother's
side. If I happened to be on horseback, he was sure
to get a canter or a gallop ; or, if there was one of the
draught horses within an available distance, he was
treated to a steady ride upon that, which served his
turn almost as well ; but his mother would always
follow and trudge beside him — not so much, I believe,
to ensure his safe conduct, as to see that I instilled no
objectionable notions into his infant mind, for she was
ever on the watch, and never would allow him to be
taken out of her sight. What pleased her best of all
was to see him romping and racing with Sancho, while
I walked by her side — not, I fear, for love of my com-

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 43

pany (though I sometimes deluded myself with that
idea), so much as for the delight she took in seeing
her son thus happily engaged in the enjoyment of those
active sports so invigorating to his tender frame, yet
so seldom exercised for want of playmates suited to his
years ; and, perhaps, her pleasure was sweetened not
a little by the fact of my heing with her instead of
with him, and therefore incapable of doing him any
injury directly or indirectly, designedly or otherwise,
small thanks to her for that same.

But sometimes, I believe, she really had some little
gratification in conversing with me ; and one bright
February morning, during twenty minutes stroll along
the moor, she laid aside her usual asperity and reserve,
and fairly entered into conversation with me, discours-
ing with so much eloquence and depth of thought and
feeling on a subject happily coinciding with my own
ideas, and looking so beautiful withal, that I went
home enchanted ; and on the way (morally) started to
find myself thinking that, after all, it would, perhaps,
be better to spend one's days with such a woman than
with Eliza Mill ward ; and then, I (figuratively) blushed
for my inconstancy.

On entering the parlour I found Eliza there with
Rose, and no one else. The surprise was not alto-
gether so agreeable as it ought to have been. We
chatted together a long time, but I found her rather
frivolous, and even a little insipid, compared with the
more mature and earnest Mrs Graham. Alas for
human constancy !

" However," thought I, " I ought not to marry
Eliza, since my mother so strongly objects to it, and I
ought not to delude the girl with the idea that I in-
tended to do so. Now, if this mood continue, I shall
have less difficulty in emancipating my affections from
her soft yet unrelenting sway ; and, though Mrs
Graham might be equally objectionable, I may be per-
mitted, like the doctors, to cure a greater evil by a
less, for I shall not fall seriously in love with the
young widow, I think, nor she with me — that's certain

44 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

— but if I find a little pleasure in her society I may
surely be allowed to seek it ; and if the star of her
divinity be bright enough to dim the lustre of Eliza's,
so much the better, but I scarcely can think it."

And thereafter I seldom suffered a fine day to pass
without paying a visit to Wildfell about the time my
new acquaintance usually left her hermitage ; but so
frequently was I balked in my expectations of another
interview, so changeable was she in her times of com-
ing forth and in her places of resort, so transient were
the occasional glimpses I was able to obtain, that I felt
half inclined to think she took as much pains to avoid
my company as I to seek hers ; but this was too dis-
agreeable a supposition to be entertained a moment
after it could conveniently be dismissed.

One calm, clear afternoon, however, in March, as I
was superintending the rolling of the meadow-land,
and the repairing of a hedge in the valley, I saw Mrs
Graham down by the brook, with a sketch-book in her
hand, absorbed in the exercise of her favourite art,
while Arthur was putting on the time with construct-
ing dams and breakwaters in the shallow, stony stream.
I was rather in want of amusement, and so rare an
opportunity was not to be neglected ; so, leaving both
meadow and hedge, I quickly repaired to the spot, but
not before Sancho, who, immediately upon perceiving
his young friend, scoured at full gallop the intervening
space, and pounced upon him with an impetuous mirth
that precipitated the child almost into the middle of
the beck ; but, happily, the stones preserved him
from any serious wetting, while their smoothness
prevented his being too much hurt to laugh at the
untoward event.

Mrs Graham was studying the distinctive characters
of the different varieties of trees in their winter naked-
ness, and copying, with a spirited, though delicate
touch, their various ramifications. She did not talk
much, but I stood and watched the progress of her
pencil : it was a pleasure to behold it so dexterously
guided by those fair and graceful fingers. But ere

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 45

long their dexterity became impaired, "they began to
hesitate, to tremble slightly, and make false strokes,
and then suddenly came to a pause, while their owner
laughingly raised her face to mine, and told me that
her sketch did not profit by my superintendence.

"Then," said I, "Til talk to Arthur till you've done."

"I should like to have a ride, Mr Markham, if
mamma will let me," said the child.

"What on, my boy?"

" I think there's a horse in that field," replied he,
pointing to where the strong black mare was pulling
the roller.

" No, no, Arthur ; it's too far," objected his
mother.

But I promised to bring him safe back after a turn
or two up and down the meadow ; and when she looked
at his eager face she smiled and let him go. It was the
first time she had even allowed me to take him so much
as half a field's length from her side.

Enthroned upon his monstrous steed, and solemnly
proceeding up and down the wide, steep field, he
looked the very incarnation of quiet, gleeful satisfac-
tion and delight. The rolling, however, was soon
completed ; but when I dismounted the gallant horse-
man, and restored him to his mother, she seemed
rather displeased at my keeping him so long. She had
shut up her sketch-book, and been, probably, for some
minutes impatiently waiting his return.

It was now high time to go home, she said, and would
have bid me good-evening, but I was not going to leave
her yet : I accompanied her half-way up the hill. She
became more sociable, and I was beginning to be very
happy ; but, on coming within sight of the grim old
hall, she stood still and turned towards me while she
spoke, as if expecting I should go no further, that the
conversation would end here, and I should now take
leave and depart — as, indeed, it was time to do, for
"the clear, cold eve" was fast "declining," the sun
had set, and the gibbous moon was visibly brightening
in the pale grey sky ; but a feeling almost of compos-

46 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

sion riveted me to the spot. It seemed hard to leave
her to such a lonely, comfortless home. I looked up
at it. Silent and grim it frowned before us. A faint,
red light was gleaming from the lower windows of one
wing, but all the other windows were in darkness, and
many exhibited their black, cavernous gulfs, entirely
destitute of glazing or framework.

' l Do you not find it a desolate place to live in ? "
said I, after a moment of silent contemplation.

" I do, sometimes," replied she. " On winter even-
ings, when Arthur is in bed, and I am sitting there
alone, hearing the bleak wind moaning round me and
howling through the ruinous old chambers, no books
or occupations can repress the dismal thoughts and
apprehensions that come crowding in — but it is folly
to give way to such weakness, I know. If Rachel is
satisfied with such a life, why should not I ? — Indeed
I cannot be too thankful for such an asylum, while it
is left me."

The closing sentence was uttered in an undertone, aa
if spoken rather to herself than to me. She then bid
me good-evening and withdrew.

I had not proceeded many steps on my way home-
wards, when I perceived Mr Lawrence, on his pretty
grey pony, coming up the rugged lane that crossed
over the hill-top. I went a little out of my way to
speak to him ; for we had not met for some time.

" Was that Mrs Graham you were speaking to just
now ? " said he, after the first few words of greeting
had passed between us.

" Yes."

" Humph ! I thought so." He looked contem-
platively at his horse's mane, as if he had some serious
cause of dissatisfaction with it, or something else.

"Well! what then?"

"Oh, nothing!" replied he. "Only, I thought
you disliked her," he quietly added, curling his classic
lip with a slightly sarcastic smile.

" Suppose I did ; mayn't a man change his mind on
further acquaintance ? "

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 47

"Yes, of course." returned he, nicely reducing an
entanglement in the pony's redundant hoary mane.
Then suddenly turning to me, and fixing his shy,
hazel eyes upon me with a steady, penetrating gaze,
he added, "Then you have changed your mind?"

tf I can't say that I have exactly. No ; I think I
hold the same opinion respecting her as before — but
slightly ameliorated."

"Oh \" He looked round for something else to
talk about ; and glancing up at the moon, made some
remark upon the beauty of the evening, which I did
not answer, as being irrelevant to the subject.

" Lawrence," said I, calmly looking him in the face,
" are you in love with Mrs Graham ? "

Instead of his being deeply offended at this, as I
more than half expected he would, the first start of
surprise at the audacious question was followed by a
tittering laugh, as if he was highly amused at the
idea.

" I in love with her ! " repeated he. " What makes
you dream of such a thing ? '

" From the interest you take in the progress of my
acquaintance with the lady, and the changes of my
opinion concerning her. I thought you might be
jealous."

He laughed again. " Jealous! no — But I thought
you were going to marry Eliza Millward ? "

" You thought wrong, then ; I am not going to
marry either one or the other — that I know of."

"Then I think you'd better let them alone."

" Are you going to marry Jane Wilson ? "

He coloured, and played with the mane again, but
answered : —

" No, I think not."

"Then you had better let her alone."

She won't let me alone — he might have said ; but he
only looked silly and said nothing for the space of half
a minute, and then made another attempt to turn the
conversation ; and, this time, I let it pass ; for he had
borne enough : another word on the subject would

have been like the last atom that breaks the camel's
back.

I was too late for tea ; but my mother had kindly
kept the tea-pot and muffin warm upon the hobj and,
though she scolded me a little, readily admitted my
excuses ; and when I complained of the flavour of the
overdrawn tea, she poured the remainder into the slop-
basin, and bade Rose put some fresh into the pot, and
reboil the kettle, which offices were performed with
great commotion, and certain remarkable comments.

" Well ! — if it had been me now, I should have had
no tea at all — if it had been Fergus, even, he would
have to put up with such as there was, and been told
to be thankful, for it was far too good for him ; but
you — we can't do too much for you. It's always so —
if there's anything particularly nice at table, mamma
winks and nods at me, to abstain from it, and if I
don't attend to that, she whispers, ' Don't eat so much
of that, Rose ; Gilbert will like it for his supper ' — I'm
nothing at all. In the parlour, it's ' Come, Rose, put
away your things, and let's have the room nice and
tidy against they come in ; and keep up a good fire ;
Gilbert likes a cheerful fire.' In the kitchen — ' Make
that pie a large one, Rose ; I dare say the boys'll be
hungry ; — and don't put so much pepper in, they'll
not like it, I'm sure ' — or, ' Rose, don't put so many
spices in the pudding, Gilbert likes it plain ' — or,
e Mind you put plenty of currants in the cake, Fergus
likes plenty.' If I say, ' Well, mamma, I don't,' I'm
told I ought not to think of myself — ' You know, Rose,
in all household matters, we have only two things
to consider, first, what's proper to be done, and,
secondly, what's most agreeable to the gentlemen of
the house — anything will do for the ladies/"

" And very good doctrine too," said my mother.
" Gilbert thinks so, I'm sure."

" Very convenient doctrine for us, at all events,"
said I ; " but if you would really study my pleasure,
mother, you must consider your own comfort and
convenience a little more than you do — as for Rose, I

THE TENANT OF \VILDFELL HALL 49

have no doubt she'll take care of herself ; and when-
ever she does make a sacrifice or perform a remarkable
act of devoted ness, she'll take good care to let me
know the extent of it But for you, I might sink into
the grossest condition of self-indulgence and careless-
ness about the wants of others, from the mere habit of
being constantly cared for myself, and having all my
wants anticipated or immediately supplied, while left
in total ignorance of what is done for me, — if Rose did
not enlighten me now and then ; and 1 should receive
all your kindness as a matter of course, and never know
how much I owe you."

" Ah ! and you never will know, Gilbert, till you're
married. Then, when you've got some trifling, self-
conceited girl like Eliza Mill ward, careless of every-
thing but her own immediate pleasure and advantage,
or some misguided, obstinate woman like Mrs Graham,
ignorant of her principal duties, and clever only in
what concerns her least to know — then you'll find
the difference."

" It will do me good, mother ; I was not sent into
the world merely to exercise the good capacities
and good feelings of others — was I ? — but to exert
my own towards them ; and when I marry, I shall
expect to find more pleasure in making my wife happy
and comfortable, than in being made so by her : I
would rather give than receive."

" Oh ! that s all nonsense, my dear. It's mere boy's
talk that ! You'll soon tire of petting and humouring
your wife, be she ever so charming, and then comes
the trial."

" Well, then, we must bear one another's burdens."

" Then you must fall each into your proper place.
You'll do your business, and she, if she 8 worthy of
you, will do hers ; but it's your business to please
yourself, and hers to please you. I'm sure your poor
dear father was as good a husband as ever lived, and
after the first six months or so were over, I should as
soon have expected him to fly, as to put himself out of
his way to pleasure me. He always said I was a good

50 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

wife, and did my duty ; and he always did his — bless
him ! — he was steady and punctual, seldom found fault
without a reason, always did justice to my good dinners,
and hardly ever spoiled my cookery by delay — and
that's as much as any woman can expect of any
man."

Is it so, Halford ? Is that the extent of your
domestic virtues ; and does your happy wife exact no
more ?

CHAPTER VII

NOT many days after this, on a mild sunny morning —
rather soft under foot ; for the last fall of snow was
only just wasted away, leaving yet a thin ridge, here
and there, lingering on the fresh green grass beneath
the hedges ; but beside them already, the young
primroses were peeping from among their moist, dark
foliage, and the lark above was singing of summer, and
hope, and love, and every heavenly thing — I was out
on the hill-side, enjoying these delights, and looking
after the well-being of my young lambs and their
mothers, when, on glancing round me, I beheld three
persons ascending from the vale below. They were
Eliza Millward, Fergus, and Rose ; so I crossed the
field to meet them ; and, being told they were going
to Wildfell Hall, I declared myself willing to go with
them, and offering my arm to Eliza, who readily
accepted it in lieu of my brother's, told the latter he
might go back, for I would accompany the ladies.

" I beg your pardon ! " exclaimed he. " It's the
ladies that are accompanying me, not I them. You
had all had a peep at this wonderful stranger but me,
and I could endure my wretched ignorance no longer —
come what would, I must be satisfied ; so I begged Rose
to go with me to the hall, and introduce me to her at
once. She swore she would not, unless Miss Eliza
would go too ; so I ran to the vicarage and fetched
her ; and we've come hooked all the way, as fond as

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 51

a pair of lovers — and now you've taken her from me ;
and you want to deprive me of my walk and my visit
besides. Go back to your fields and your cattle, you
lubberly fellow ; you're not fit to associate with ladies
and gentlemen, like us, that have nothing to do but to
run snooking about to our neighbours' houses, peeping
into their private corners, and scenting out their
secrets, and picking holes in their coats, when we
don't find them ready-made to our hands — you don't
understand such refined sources of enjoyment."

" Can't you both go ? " suggested Eliza, disregarding
the latter half of the speech.

" Yes, both, to be sure ! " cried Rose ; " the more
the merrier — and I'm sure we shall want all the cheer-
fulness we can carry with us to that great, dark,
gloomy room, with its narrow, latticed windows, and
its dismal old furniture — unless she shows us into her
studio again."

So we went all in a body ; and the meagre old maid-
servant, that opened the door, ushered us into an
apartment, such as Rose had described to me as the
scene of her first introduction to Mrs Graham, a toler-
ably spacious and lofty room, but obscurely lighted by
the old-fashioned windows, the ceiling, panels, and
chimney-piece of grim black oak — the latter elabor-
ately but not very tastefully carved, — with tables and
chairs to match, an old book-case on one side of the
fireplace, stocked with a motley assemblage of books,
and an elderly cabinet piano on the other.

The lady was seaten in a stiff, high-backed arm-
chair, with a small round table, containing a desk and
a work-basket, on one side of her, and her little boy
on the other, who stood leaning his elbow on her knee,
and reading to her, with wonderful fluency, from a
small volume that lay in her lap ; while she rested her
hand on his shoulder, and abstractedly played with the
long, wavy curls that fell on his ivory neck. They
struck me as forming a pleasing contrast to all the
surrounding objects ; but of course their position was
immediately changed on our entrance. I could only

52 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

observe the picture during the few brief seconds that
Rachel held the door for our admittance.

I do not think Mrs Graham was particularly delighted
to see us : there was something indescribably chilly in
her quiet, calm civility ; but I did not talk much to
her. Seating myself near the window, a little back
from the circle, I called Arthur to me, and he and I
and Sancho amused ourselves very pleasantly together,
while the two young ladies baited his mother with
small talk, and Fergus sat opposite, with his legs
crossed, and his hands in his breeches pockets, leaning
back in his chair, and staring now up at the ceiling, now
straight forward at his hostess (in a manner that made
me strongly inclined to kick him out of the room),
now whistling sotto voce to himself a snatch of a
favourite air, now interrupting the conversation, or
filling up a pause (as the case might be) with some
most impertinent question or remark. At one time it
was, —

" It amazes me, Mrs Graham, how you could choose
such a dilapidated, rickety old place as this to live in.
If you couldn't afford to occupy the whole house, and
have it mended up, why couldn't you take a neat little
cottage ? "

'•' Perhaps I was too proud, Mr Fergus," replied she,
smiling; "perhaps I took a particular fancy for this
romantic, old-fashioned place — but, indeed, it has
many advantages over a cottage. In the first place,
you see, the rooms are larger and more airy ; in the
second place, the unoccupied apartments, which I
don't pay for, may serve as lumber-rooms, if I have
anything to put in them ; and they are very useful for
my little boy to run about in on rainy days when he
can't go out ; and then there is the garden for him to
play in, and for me to work in. You see I have
effected some little improvement already," continued
she, turning to the window. " There is a bed of
young vegetables in that corner, and here are some
snowdrops and primroses already in bloom — and there,
too, is a yellow crocus just opening in the sunshine."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 63

" But then how can you bear such a situation — your
nearest neighbours two miles distant, and nobody
looking in or passing by? — Rose would go stark mad
in such a place. She can't put on life unless she sees
half a dozen fresh gowns and bonnets a day — not to
speak of the faces within ; but you might sit watching
at these windows all day long, and never see so much
as an old woman carrying her eggs to market."

" I am not sure the loneliness of the place was not
one of its chief recommendations. I take no pleasure
in watching people pass the windows ; and I like to be
quiet."

" Oh ! as good as to say, you wish we would all of
us mind our own business, and let you alone."

" No, I dislike an extensive acquaintance ; but if I
have a few friends, of course I am glad to see them
occasionally. No one can be happy in eternal solitude.
Therefore, Mr Fergus, if you choose to enter my house
as a friend, I will make you welcome ; if not, I must con-
fess, I would rather you kept away." She then turned
and addressed some observation to Rose or Eliza.

" And Mrs Graham," said he again, five minutes
after, " we were disputing, as we came along, a
question that you can readily decide for us, as it
mainly regarded yourself — and, indeed, we often hold
discussions about you ; for some of us have nothing
better to do than to talk about our neighbours' con-
cerns, and we, the indigenous plants of the soil, have
known each other so long, and talked each other over
so often, that we are quite sick of that game ; so that
a stranger coming amongst us makes an invaluable
addition to our exhausted sources of amusement.
Well, the question, or questions, you are requested to
solve "

" Hold your tongue, Fergus ! " cried Rose, in a fever
of apprehension and wrath.

" I won't, I tell you. The questions you are
requested to solve are these : — First, concerning your
birth, extraction, and previous residence. Some will
have it that you are a foreigner, and some an English-

54 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

woman ; some a native of the north country, and some
of the south ; some say "

" Well, Mr Fergus, Til tell you. I'm an English-
woman— and I don't see why any one should doubt it —
and I was born in the country, neither in the extreme
north nor south of our happy isle ; and in the country
I have chiefly passed my life, and now, I hope, you are
satisfied ; for I am not disposed to answer any more
questions at present."

" Except this—

" No, not one more ! " laughed she, and, instantly
quitting her seat, she sought refuge at the window by
which I was seated, and, in very desperation, to escape
my brother's persecutions, endeavoured to draw me
into conversation.

" Mr Markham," said she, her rapid utterance and
heightened colour too plainly evincing her disquietude ;
" have you forgotten the fine sea-view we were speaking
of some time ago? I think 1 must trouble you, now,
to tell me the nearest way to it ; for if this beautiful
weather continue, I shall, perhaps, be able to walk
there, and take my sketch ; I have exhausted every
other subject for painting ; and I long to see it."

I was about to comply with her request, but Rose
would not suffer me to proceed.

" Oh, don't tell her, Gilbert ! " cried she ; " she shall

go with us. It's Bay you are thinking about, I

suppose, Mrs Graham ? It is a very long walk, too far
for you, and out of the question for Arthur. But we
were thinking about making a picnic to see it, some
fine day ; and, if you will wait till the settled fine
weather comes, I'm sure we shall all be delighted to
have you amongst us."

Poor Mrs Graham looked dismayed, and attempted
to make excuses, but Rose, either compassionating her
lonely life, or anxious to cultivate her acquaintance,
was determined to have her ; and every objection was
overruled. She was told it would ouly be a small party,
and all friends, and that the best view of all was from
Cliffs full five miles distant.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 66

" Just a nice walk for the gentlemen," continued
Rose ; " but the ladies will drive and walk by turns ; for
we shall have our pony carriage, which will be plenty
large enough to contain little Arthur and three ladies,
together with your sketching apparatus, and our
provisions."

So the proposal was finally acceded to ; and, after
some further discussion respecting the time and manner
of the projected excursion, we rose, and took our leave.

But this was only March : a cold, wet April, and two
weeks of May passed over before we could venture forth
on our expedition with the reasonable hope of obtaining
that pleasure we sought in pleasant prospects, cheerful
society, fresh air, good cheer and exercise, without the
alloy of bad roads, cold winds, or threatening clouds.
Then, on a glorious morning, we gathered our forces and
set forth. The company consisted of Mrs and Master
Graham, Mary and Eliza Millward, Jane and Richard
Wilson, and Rose, Fergus, and Gilbert Markham.

Mr Lawrence had been invited to join us, but, for
some reason best known to himself, had refused to give
us his company. I had solicited the favour myself.
When I did so, he hesitated, and asked who were going.
Upon my naming Miss Wilson among the rest, he
seemed half inclined to go, but when I mentioned Mrs
Graham, thinking it might be a further inducement,
it appeared to have a contrary effect, and he declined
it altogether, and, to confess the truth, the decision
was not displeasing to me, though I could scarcely tell
you why.

It was about mid-day, when we reached the place of
our destination. Mrs Graham walked all the way to
the cliffs ; and little Arthur walked the greater part of
it too ; for he was now much more hardy and active
than when he first entered the neighbourhood, and he
did not like being in the carriage with strangers, while
all his four friends, mamma, and Sancho, and Mr
Markham, and Miss Millward, were on foot, journeying
i';ir In-hind, or passing through distant fields and lanes.

I have a very pleasant recollection of that walk,

56 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

along the hard, white, sunny road, shaded here and
there with bright green trees, and adorned with flowery
banks, and blossoming hedges of delicious fragrance ;
or through pleasant fields and lanes, all glorious in the
sweet flowers and brilliant verdure of delightful May.
It was true, Eliza was not beside me ; but she was with
her friends in the pony-carriage, as happy, I trusted,
as I was ; arid even when we pedestrians, having for-
saken the highway for a short cut across the fields,
beheld the little carriage far away, disappearing amid
the green, embowering trees, I did not hate those trees
for snatching the dear little bonnet and shawl from my
sight, nor did I feel that all those intervening objects
lay between my happiness and me ; for, to confess the
truth, I was too happy in the company of Mrs Graham,
to regret the absence of Eliza Millward.

The former, it is true, was most provokingly un-
sociable at first — seemingly bent upon talking to no
one but Mary Millward and Arthur. She and Mary
journeyed along together, generally with the child
between them ; — but where the road permitted, I always
walked on the other side of her, Richard Wilson taking
the other side of Miss Millward, and Fergus roving
here and there according to his fancy ; and after a
while, she became more friendly, and at length I
succeeded in securing her attention almost entirely to
myself — and then I was happy indeed ; for whenever
she did condescend to converse, I liked to listen.
Where her opinions and sentiments tallied with mine,
it was her extreme good sense, her exquisite taste and
feeling, that delighted me ; where they differed, it was
still her uncompromising boldness in the avowal or
defence of that difference, her earnestness and keen-
ness, that piqued my fancy : and even when she
angered me by her unkind words or looks, and her
uncharitable conclusions respecting me, it only made
me the more dissatisfied with myself for having so
unfavourably impressed her, and the more desirous to
vindicate my character and disposition in her eyes,
and, if possible, to win her esteem.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 67

At length our walk was ended. The increasing
height and boldness of the hills had for some time
intercepted the prospect ; but, on gaining the summit
of a steep acclivity, and looking downward, an opening
lay before us — and the blue sea burst upon our sight !
— deep violet blue — not deadly calm, but covered with
glinting breakers — diminutive white specks twinkling
on its bosom, and scarcely to be distinguished, by the
keenest vision, from the little sea-mews that sported
above, their white wings glittering in the sunshine :
only one or two vessels were visible ; and those were
far away.

I looked at my companion to see what she thought
of this glorious scene. She said nothing: but she
stood still, and fixed her eyes upon it with a gaze that
assured me she was not disappointed. She had very
line eyes, by-the-bye — I don't know whether I've told
before, but they were full of soul, large, clear, and
nearly black — not brown, but very dark grey. A cool,
reviving breeze blew from the sea — soft, pure, salu-
brious : it waved her drooping ringlets, and imparted
a livelier colour to her usually too pallid lip and cheek.
She felt its exhilarating influence, and so did I — I felt
it tingling through my frame, but dared not give way
to it while she remained so quiet. There was an
aspect of subdued exhilaration in her face, that kindled
into almost a smile of exalted, glad intelligence as her
eye met mine. Never had she looked so lovely : never
had my heart so warmly cleaved to her as now. Had
we been left two minutes longer, standing there alone,
1 cannot answer for the consequences. Happily for
my discretion, perhaps for my enjoyment during the
remainder of the day, we were speedily summoned to
the repast — a very respectable collation, which Rose,
assisted by Miss Wilson and Eliza, who, having shared
her seat in the carriage, had arrived with her a little
before the rest, had set out upon an elevated platform
overlooking the sea, and sheltered from the hot sun by
a shelving rock and overhanging trees.

Mrs Graham seated herself at a distance from me.

68 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

Eliza was my nearest neighbour. She exerted herself
to be agreeable, in her gentle, unobtrusive way, and
was, no doubt, as fascinating and charming as ever,
if I could only have felt it. But soon, my heart
began to warm towards her once again ; and we were
all very merry and happy together — as far as I could
see — throughout the protracted, social meal.

When that was over, Rose summoned Fergus to help
her to gather up the fragments, and the knives, dishes,
&c., and restore them to the baskets ; and Mrs Graham
took her camp-stool and drawing materials ; and having
begged Miss Millward to take charge of her precious
son, and strictly enjoined him not to wander from his
new guardian's side, she left us and proceeded along
the steep, stony hill, to a loftier, more precipitous
eminence at some distance, whence a still finer prospect
was to be had, where she preferred taking her sketch,
though some of the ladies told her it was a frightful
place, and advised her not to attempt it.

When she was gone, I felt as if there was to be no
more fun — though it is difficult to say what she had
contributed to the hilarity of the party. No jests,
and little laughter, had escaped her lips ; but her smile
had animated my mirth, a keen observation or a cheer-
ful word from her had insensibly sharpened my wits,
and thrown an interest over all that was done and said
by the rest. Even my conversation with Eliza had
been enlivened by her presence, though I knew it not ;
and now that she was gone, Eliza's playful nonsense
ceased to amuse me — nay, grew wearisome to my soul,
and I grew weary of amusing her : I felt myself drawn
by an irresistible attraction to that distant point where
the fair artist sat and plied her solitary task — and not
long did I attempt to resist it : while my little neighbour
was exchanging a few words with Miss Wilson, I rose
and cannily slipped away. A few rapid strides, and a
little active clambering, soon brought me to the place
where she was seated — a narrow ledge of rock at the
very verge of the cliff, which descended with a steep,
precipitous slant, quite down to the rocky shore.

THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL 59

She did not hear me coming : the falling of my
shadow across her paper gave her an electric start ; and
she looked hastily round — any other lady of my
acquaintance would have screamed under such a sudden
alarm.

"Oh! I didn't know it was you. — Why did you
startle me so ? " said she, somewhat testily. " I hate
anybody to come upon me so unexpectedly."

"Why, what did you take me for?" said I: "if I
had known you were so nervous, I would have been
more cautious ; but "

" Well, never mind. What did you come for ? are
they all coming ? "

" No ; this little ledge could scarcely contain them
all."

" I'm glad, for I'm tired of talking."

" Well, then, I won't talk. I'll only sit and watch
your drawing."

"Oh, but you know I don't like that."

" Then I'll content myself with admiring this mag-
nificent prospect."

She made no objection to this ; and, for some time,
sketched away in silence. But I could not help steal-
ing a glance, now and then, from the splendid view at
our feet to the elegant white hand that held the pencil,
and the graceful neck and glossy raven curls that
drooped over the paper.

" Now," thought I, " if I had but a pencil and a
morsel of paper, I could make a lovelier sketch than
hers, admitting I had the power to delineate faithfully
what is before me."

Hut though this satisfaction was denied me, I was
very well content to sit beside her there, and say
nothing.

" Are you there still, Mr Markham?" said she at
length, looking round upon me — for I was seated a
little behind on a mossy projection of the cliff. — " Why
don't you go and amuse yourself with your friends? "

" Because I am tired of them, like you ; and I shall
have enough of them to-morrow — or at any time hence ;

60 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

but you I may not have the pleasure of seeing again
for I know not how long."

"What was Arthur doing when you came away?"

(< He was with Miss Millward where you left him —
all right, but hoping mamma would not be long away.
You didn't entrust him to me, by-the-bye," I grumbled,
"though I had the honour of a much longer acquaint-
ance ; but Miss Millward has the art of conciliating and
amusing children," I carelessly added, " if she is good
for nothing else."

" Miss Millward has many estimable qualities, which
such as you cannot be expected to perceive or appre-
ciate. Will you tell Arthur that I shall come in a few
minutes ? "

"If that be the case, I will wait, with your permis-
sion, till those few minutes are past ; and then I can
assist you to descend this difficult path."

" Thank you — I always manage best, on such occa-
sions, without assistance. "

" But, at least, I can carry your stool and sketch-
book."

She did not deny me this favour ; but I was rather
offended at her evident desire to be rid of me, and
was beginning to repent of my pertinacity, when she
somewhat appeased me by consulting my taste and
judgment about some doubtful matter in her drawing.
My opinion, happily, met her approbation, and the im-
provement I suggested was adopted without hesitation.

" I have often wished in vain," said she, ' ' for
another's judgment to appeal to when I could scarcely
trust the direction of my own eye and head, they having
been so long occupied with the contemplation of a
single object, as to become almost incapable of forming
a proper idea respecting it."

"That," replied I, "is only one of many evils to
which a solitary life exposes us."

' ' True," said she ; and again we relapsed into
silence.

About two minutes after, however, she declared her
sketch completed and closed the book.

THE TENANT OF WiLDFELL HALL 61

On returning to the scene of our repast, we found
all the company had deserted it, with the exception of
three — Mary Millward, Richard Wilson, and Arthur
Graham. The younger gentleman lay fast asleep with
his head pillowed on the lady's lap ; the other was
seated beside her with a pocket edition of some classic
author in his hand. He never went anywhere without
such a companion wherewith to improve his leisure
moments : all time seemed lost that was not devoted
to study, or exacted, hy his physical nature, for the
bare support of life. Even now, he could not abandon
himself to the enjoyment of that pure air and balmy
sunshine — that splendid prospect, and those soothing
sounds, the music of the waves and of the soft wind in
the sheltering trees above him — not even with a lady
by his side (though not a very charming one, I will
allow) — he must pull out his book, and make the most
of his time while digesting his temperate meal, and
reposing his weary limbs, unused to so much exercise.

Perhaps, however, he spared a moment to exchange
a word or a glance with his companion now and then
— at any rate, she did not appear at all resentful of his
conduct ; for her homely features wore an expression
of unusual cheerfulness and serenity, and she was
studying his pale, thoughtful face with great com-
placency when we arrived.

The journey homeward was by no means so agree-
able, to me, as the former part of the day ; for now
Mrs Graham was in the carriage, and Eliza Millward
was the companion of my walk. She had observed my

E reference for the young widow, and evidently felt
erself neglected. She did not manifest her chagrin
by keen reproaches, bitter sarcasms, or pouting sullen
silence — any or all of these I could easily have endured,
or lightly laughed away ; but she showed it by a kind
of gentle melancholy, a mild, reproachful sadness that
cut me to the heart. I tried to cheer her up, and
apparently succeeded in some degree, before the walk
was over ; but in the very act my conscience reproved
me, knowing, as I did, that, sooner or later, the tie

62 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

must be broken, and this was only nourishing false
hopes, and putting off the evil day.

When the pony-carriage had approached as near
Wildfell Hall as the road would permit — unless, in-
deed, it proceeded up the long rough lane, which Mrs
Graham would not allow — the young widow and her
son alighted, relinquishing the driver's seat to Rose ;
and I persuaded Eliza to take the latter's place.
Having put her comfortably in, bid her take care of
the evening air, and wished her a kind good-night, I
felt considerably relieved, and hastened to offer my
services to Mrs Graham to carry her apparatus up the
fields, but she had already hung her camp-stool on her
arm and taken her sketch-book in her hand ; and
insisted upon bidding me adieu then and there, with
the rest of the company. But this time, she declined
my proffered aid in so kind and friendly a manner that
I almost forgave her.

CHAPTER VIII

Six weeks had passed away. It was a splendid morning
about the close of June. Most of the hay was cut, but
the last week had been very unfavourable ; and now
that fine weather was come at last, being determined
to make the most of it, I had gathered all hands
together into the hayfield, and was working away
myself, in the midst of them, in my shirt-sleeves, with
a light, shady straw hat on my head, catching up
armfuls of moist, reeking grass, and shaking it out to
the four winds of heaven, at the head of a goodly file
of servants and hirelings — intending so to labour, from
morning to night, with as much zeal and assiduity as I
could look for from any of them, as well to prosper
the work by my own exertion as to animate the workers
by my example — when lo ! my resolutions were over-
thrown in a moment, by the simple fact of my brother's
running up to me and putting into my hand a smalj

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 63

parcel, just arrived from London, which I had been
for some time expecting. I tore off the cover, and
disclosed an elegant and portable edition of" Marmion."

<f I guess 1 know who that's for," said Fergus, who
stood looking on while I complacently examined the
volume. " That's for Miss Eliza, now."

He pronounced this with a tone and look so pro-
digiously knowing, that I was glad to contradict him.

" You're wrong, my lad,"' said I ; and, taking up my
coat, I deposited the book in one of its pockets, and
then put it on (i.e. the coat). " Now come here, you
idle dog, and make yourself useful for once ; " I con-
tinued— " Pull off your coat, and take my place in the
field till I come back."

" Till you come back ? — and where are you going,
pray?"

" No matter where — the when is all that concerns
you ; — and I shall be back by dinner, at least"

" Oh, oh ! and I'm to labour away till then, am I?
— and to keep all these fellows hard at it besides?
Well, well ! 1 11 submit — for once in a way. — Come, my
lads, you must look sharp : I'm come to help you now :
— and wo be to that man, or woman either, that pauses
for a moment amongst you — whether to stare about
him, to scratch his head, or blow his nose — no pretext
will serve — nothing but work, work, work in the sweat
of your face," &c. &c.

Leaving him thus haranguing the people, more to
their amusement than edification, I returned to the
house, and having made some alteration in my toilet,
hastened away to Wildfell Hall, with the book in my
pocket ; for it was destined for the shelves of Mrs
(Jraham.

" What, then, had she and you got on so well to-
gether as to come to the giving and receiving of
presents?" — Not precisely, old buck; this was my
first experience in that line ; and 1 was very anxious
to see the result of it.

We had met several times since the Bay ex-
cursion, and I had found she was not averse to my

64 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

company, provided I confined my conversation to the
discussion of abstract matters, or topics of common in-
terest ; — the moment I touched upon the sentimental
or the complimentary, or made the slightest approach
to tenderness in word or look, I was not only punished
by an immediate change in her manner at the time,
but doomed to find her more cold and distant, if not
entirely inaccessible, when next I sought her company.
This circumstance did not greatly disconcert me how-
ever, because I attributed it, not so much to any dislike
of my person, as to some absolute resolution against
a second marriage formed prior to the time of our
acquaintance, whether from excess of affection for her
late husband, or because she had had enough of him
and the matrimonial state together. At first, indeed,
she had seemed to take a pleasure in mortifying my
vanity and crushing my presumption — relentlessly
nipping off bud by bud as they ventured to appear ;
and then, I confess, I was deeply wounded, though, at
the same time, stimulated to seek revenge ; but latterly,
finding, beyond a doubt, that I was not that empty-
headed coxcomb she had first supposed me, she had
repulsed my modest advances in quite a different
spirit. It was a kind of serious, almost sorrowful
displeasure, which I soon learnt carefully to avoid
awakening.

" Let me first establish my position as a friend,"
thought I, — ' ' the patron and playfellow of her sou,
the sober, solid, plain-dealing friend of herself, and
then, when I have made myself fairly necessary to her
comfort and enjoyment in life (as I believe I can), we'll
see what next may be effected."

So we talked about painting, poetry, and music,
theology, geology, and philosophy : once or twice I
lent her a book, and once she lent me one in return :
I met her in her walks as often as I could ; I came to
her house as often as I dared. My first pretext for
invading the sanctum was to bring Arthur a little
waddling puppy of which Sancho was the father, and
which delighted the child beyond expression, and,

THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL 65

consequently, could not fail to please his mamma.
My second was to bring him a book, which, knowing
his mother's particularity, I had carefully selected,
and which I submitted for her approbation before pre-
senting it to him. Then, I brought her some plants
for her garden, in my sister's name — having previously
persuaded Rose to send them. Each of these times I
inquired after the picture she was painting from the
sketch taken on the cliff, and was admitted into the
studio, and asked my opinion or advice respecting its
progress.

My last visit had been to return the book she had
lent me ; and then it was, that, in casually discussing
the poetry of Sir Walter Scott, she had expressed a
wish to see " Marmion," and I had conceived the pre-
sumptuous idea of making her a present of it, and, on
my return home, instantly sent for the smart little
volume I had this morning received. But an apology
for invading the hermitage was still necessary ; so I
had furnished myself with a blue morocco collar for
Arthur's little dog ; and that being given and received,
with much more joy and gratitude, on the part of the
receiver, than the worth of the gift or the selfish
motive of the giver deserved, I ventured to ask Mrs
Graham for one more look at the picture, if it was still
there.

"Oh, yes ! come in," said she (for I had met them
in the garden). " It is finished and framed, all ready
for sending away ; but give me your last opinion, and,
if you can suggest any further improvement, it shall be
— duly considered, at least."

The picture was strikingly beautiful : it was the very
scene itself, transferred as if by magic to the canvas ;
but I expressed my approbation in guarded terms, and
few words, for fear of displeasing her. She, however,
attentively watched my looks, and her artist's pride-
was gratified, no doubt, to read my heart-felt admira-
tion in my eyes. Hut, while 1 gazed, 1 thought upon
the book, and wondered how it was to be presented.
My heart failed me ; but 1 determined not to be such

66 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

a fool as to come away without having made the at-
tempt. It was useless waiting for an opportunity, and
useless trying to concoct a speech for the occasion.
The more plainly and naturally the thing was done,
the better, I thought ; so I just looked out of the
window to screw up my courage, and then pulled out
the book, turned round, and put it into her hand, with
this short explanation :

" You were wishing to see 'Marmion/ Mrs Graham ;
and here it is, if you will be so kind as to take it."

A momentary blush suffused her face — perhaps, a
blush of sympathetic shame for such an awkward style
of presentation : she gravely examined the volume on
both sides ; then silently turned over the leaves, knit-
ting her brows the while, in serious cogitation ; then
closed the book, and turning from it to me, quietly
asked the price of it — I felt the hot blood rush to my
face.

" I'm sorry to offend you, Mr Markham," said she,
" but unless I pay for the book, 1 cannot take it."
And she laid it on the table.

" Why cannot you ?"

" Because," — she paused, and looked at the carpet.

" Why cannot you?" I repeated, with a degree of
irascibility that roused her to lift her eyes, and look
me steadily in the face.

" Because I don't like to put myself under obliga-
tions that I can never repay — I am obliged to you
already for your kindness to my son ; but his grateful
affection and your own good feelings must reward you
for that."

"Nonsense !" ejaculated I.

She turned her eyes on me again, with a look of
quiet, grave surprise that had the effect of a rebuke,
whether intended for such or not.

"Then you won't take the book?" I asked, more
mildly than I had yet spoken.

"I will gladly take it, if you will let me pay for
it."

I told her the exact price, and the cost of the

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 67

carriage besides, in as calm a tone as I could command
— for, in fact, I was ready to weep with disappointment
and vexation.

She produced her purse, and coolly counted out the
money, but hesitated to put it into my hand. Atten-
tively regarding me, in a tone of soothing softness, she
observed, —

" You think yourself insulted, Mr Mark ham — I
wish I could make you understand that — that I "

" I do understand you, perfectly," I said. " You
think that if you were to accept that trifle from me
now, I should presume upon it hereafter ; but you are
mistaken : — if you will only oblige me by taking it,
believe me, I shall build no hopes upon it, and con-
sider this no precedent for future favours : and it is
nonsense to talk about putting yourself under obliga-
tions to me when you must know that in such a case
the obligation is entirely on my side, — the favour on
yours."

' ' Well, then, I'll take you at your word," she
answered, with a most angelic smile, returning the
odious money to her purse — " but remember !"

" I will remember — what I have said ; — but do not
you punish my presumption by withdrawing your
friendship entirely from me, — or expect me to atone
for it by being more distant than before," said I, ex-
tending my hand to take leave, for I was too much
excited to remain.

" Well then ! let us be as we were," replied she,
frankly placing her hand in mine ; and while I held
it there, I had much difficulty to refrain from pressing
it to my lips ; — but that would be suicidal madness : I
had been bold enough already, and this premature
offering had well-nigh given the death-blow to my
bODM.

It was with an agitated burning heart and brain that
I hurried homewards, regardless of that scorching
noon-day sun — forgetful of everything but her I had
just left -regretting nothing but her impenetrability,
and my own precipitancy and want of tact — fearing

68 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

nothing but her hateful resolution, and my inability

to overcome it — hoping nothing but halt, — I will

not bore you with my conflicting hopes and fears — my
serious cogitations and resolves.

CHAFfER IX

THOUGH my affections might now be said to be fairly
weaned from Eliza Millward, I did not yet entirely
relinquish my visits to the vicarage, because I wanted,
as it were, to let her down easy ; without raising much
sorrow, or incurring much resentment, — or making
myself the talk of the parish ; and besides, if I had
wholly kept away, the vicar, who looked upon my
visits as paid chiefly, if not entirely, to himself, would
have felt himself decidedly affronted by the neglect.
But when I called there the day after my interview
with Mrs Graham, he happened to be from home — a
circumstance by no means so agreeable to me now as
it had been on former occasions. Miss Millward was
there, it is true, but she, of course, would be little
better than a nonentity. However, I resolved to make
my visit a short one, and to talk to Eliza in a brotherly,
friendly sort of way, such as our long acquaintance
might warrant me in assuming, and which, I thought,
could neither give offence nor serve to encourage false
hopes.

It was never my custom to talk about Mrs Graham
either to her or any one else ; but I had not been
seated three minutes, before she brought that lady on
to the carpet herself, in a rather remarkable manner.

" Oh, Mr Markham ! " said she, with a shocked
expression and voice subdued almost to a whisper,
"what do you think of these shocking reports about
Mrs Graham? — can you encourage us to disbelieve
them?*

"What reports?"

" Ah, now ! you know ! " she slyly smiled and shook
her head.

THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL 69

"I know nothing about them. What in the world
do you mean, Eliza ? "

" Oh, don't ask me ! /can't explain it." She took
up the cambric handkerchief which she had been
beautifying with a deep lace border, and began to be
very busy.

" What is it, Miss Millward ? what does she mean ? ''
said I, appealing to her sister, who seemed to be
absorbed in the hemming of a large, coarse sheet.

" I don't know,'' replied she. " Some idle slander
somebody has been inventing, I suppose. I never
heard it till Eliza told me the other day, — but if all
the parish dinned it in my ears, 1 shouldn't believe a
word of it — 1 know Mrs Graham too well ! "

" Quite right, Miss Millward ! — and so do I — what-
ever it may be.''

" Well !" observed Eliza, with a gentle sigh, " it's
well to have such a comfortable assurance regarding
the worth of those we love. I only wish you may not
find your confidence misplaced.''

And she raised her face, and gave me such a look
of sorrowful tenderness as might have melted my
heart, but within those eyes there lurked a something
that I did not like ; and I wondered how I ever could
have admired them, her sister's honest face and small
grey optics appeared far more agreeable ; but I was
out of temper with Eliza, at that moment, for her
insinuations against Mrs Graham, which were false,
I was certain, whether she knew it or not.

I said nothing more on the subject, however, at the
time, and but little on any other ; for, finding I could
not well recover my equanimity, I presently rose and
took leave, excusing myself under the plea of business
at the farm ; and to the farm I went, not troubling
my mind one whit about the possible truth of these
mysterious reports, but only wondering what they
were, by whom originated, and on what foundations
raised, and how they could the most effectually be
silenced or disproved.

A i.>u- day- after this, we had another of our quiet

70 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

little parties, to which the usual company of friends
and neighbours had been invited, and Mrs Graham
among the number. She could not now absent herself
under the plea of dark evenings or inclement weather,
and, greatly to my relief, she came. Without her 1
should have found the whole affair an intolerable bore ;
but the moment of her arrival brought new life to the
house, and though I must not neglect the other guests
for her, or expect to engross much of her attention
and conversation to myself alone, I anticipated an
evening of no common enjoyment.

Mr Lawrence came too. He did not arrive till
some time after the rest were assembled. I was
curious to see how he would comport himself to Mrs
Graham. A slight bow was all that passed between
them on his entrance ; and having politely greeted the
other members of the company, he seated himself
quite aloof from the young widow, between my mother
and Rose.

" Did you ever see such art ?'' whispered Eliza, who
was my nearest neighbour. " Would you not say they
were perfect strangers ? "

" Almost ; but what then ? "

" What then ! why, you can't pretend to be igno-
rant ? "

" Ignorant of what ? '' demanded I, so sharply that
she started and replied, —

" Oh, hush ! don't speak so loud.''

" Well, tell me then," 1 answered in a lower tone,
" what is it you mean ? I hate enigmas."

"Well, you know, I don't vouch for the truth of
it — indeed, far from it — but haven't you heard "

" I've heard nothing, except from you."

' ' You must be wilfully deaf then, for any one will
tell you that ; but I shall only anger you by repeating
it, I see, so I had better hold my tongue.''

She closed her lips and folded her hands before with
an air of injured meekness.

"If you had wished not to anger me, you should
have held your tongue from the beginning ; or else

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 71

spoken oat plainly and honestly all you had to
say."

She turned aside her face, pulled out her handker-
chief, rose, and went to the window, where she stood
for some time, evidently dissolved in tears. I was
astounded, provoked, ashamed — not so much of my
harshness as for her childish weakness. However, no
one seemed to notice her, and shortly after we were
summoned to the tea-table ; in those parts it was
customary to sit to the table at tea-time, on all occa-
sions, and make a meal of it, for we dined early. On
taking my seat, I had Rose on one side of me, and an
empty chair on the other.

" May I sit by you ? " said a soft voice at my elbow.

" If you like, ' was the reply ; and Eliza slipped into
the vacant chair ; then looking up in my face with a
half-sad, half-playful smile, she whispered, —

" You're so stern, Gilbert.*'

I handed down her tea with a slightly contemptuous
smile, and said nothing, for I had nothing to say.

" What have I done to offend you ? " said she, more
plaintively. "I wish I knew.''

" Come, take your tea, Eliza, and don't be foolish,"
responded I, handing her the sugar and cream.

Just then, there arose a slight commotion on the
other side of me, occasioned by Miss Wilson's coming
to negotiate an exchange of seats with Rose.

" Will you be so good as to exchange places with
me, Miss Markham ? '' said she, " for I don't like to
sit by Mrs Graham. If your mamma thinks proper
to invite such persons to her house, she cannot object
to her daughter s keeping company with them.1'

This latter clause was added in a sort of soliloquy
when Rose was gone ; but I was not polite enough to
let it pass.

" Will you be so good as to tell me what you mean,
Miss Wilson?" said I.

The question startled her a little, but not much.

"Why, Mr Markham," replied she, coolly, having
quickly recovered her self-possession, " it surprises me

72 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

rather that Mrs Markham should invite such a person
as Mrs Graham to her house ; but, perhaps, she is not
aware that the lady's character is considered scarcely
respectable."

"She is not, nor am I ; and therefore, you would
oblige me by explaining your meaning a little further."

"This is scarcely the time or the place for such
explanations ; but I think you can hardly be so
ignorant as you pretend, you must know her as well
as I do."

" I think I do, perhaps a little better ; and there-
fore, if you will inform me what you have heard or
imagined against her, I shall, perhaps, be able to set
you right."

" Can you tell me, then, who was her husband, or if
she ever had any ? "

Indignation kept me silent. At such a time and
place 1 could not trust myself to answer.

" Have you never observed," said Eliza, " what a
striking likeness there is between that child of hers
and "

" And whom ? " demanded Miss Wilson, with an
air of cold, but keen severity.

Eliza was startled ; the timidly spoken suggestion
had been intended for my ear alone.

" Oh, I beg your pardon !" pleaded she, " I may be
mistaken — perhaps I was mistaken.' But she accom-
panied the words with a sly glance of derision directed
to me from the corner of her disingenuous eye.

1 ' There's no need to ask my pardon," replied her
friend, " but I see no one here that at all resembles
that child, except his mother ; and when you hear
ill-natured reports, Miss Eliza, I will thank you, that
is, I think you will do well, to refrain from repeating
them. I presume the person you allude to is Mr
Lawrence ; but I think I can assure you that your
suspicions, in that respect, are utterly misplaced ; and
if he has any particular connection with the lady at
all (which no one has a right to assert), at least he
has (what cannot be said of some others) sufficient

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 73

sense of propriety to withhold him from acknowledg-
ing anything more than a bowing acquaintance in the
presence of respectable persons ; he was evidently both
surprised and annoyed to find her here."

" Go it ! " cried Fergus, who sat on the other side
of Eliza, and was the only individual who shared that
side of the table with us, " go it like bricks ! mind
you don't leave her one stone upon another."

Miss Wilson drew herself up with a look of freezing
scorn, but said nothing. Eliza would have replied,
but I interrupted her by saying as calmly as I could,
though in a tone which betrayed, no doubt, some little
of what I felt within, —

" We have had enough of this subject ; if we can
only speak to slander our betters, let us hold our
tongues."

" I think you'd better," observed Fergus, " and so
does our good parson ; he has been addressing the
company in his richest vein all the while, and eyeing
you from time to time, with looks of stern distaste,
while you sat there, irreverently whispering and
muttering together ; and once he paused in the
middle of a story or a sermon, I don't know which,
and fixed his eyes upon you, Gilbert, as much as to
say, ' When Mr Markham has done flirting with those
two ladies I will proceed.' "

What more was said at the tea-table I cannot tell,
nor how I found patience to sit till the meal was over.
I remember, however, that I swallowed with difficulty
the remainder of the tea that was in my cup, and ate
nothing ; and that the first thing I did was to stare
at Arthur Graham, who sat beside his mother on the
opposite side of the table, and the .•second to stare at
Mr Lawrence, who sat below ; and, first, it struck
me that there was a likeness ; but, on further contem-
plation, J concluded it was only in imagination. Both,
it is true, had more delicate features and smaller bones
than commonly fall to the lot of individuals of the
rougher sex, and Lawrence's complexion was pale and
clear, and Arthur's delicately fair ; but Arthur's tiny,

74 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

somewhat snubby nose could never become so long
and straight as Mr Lawrence's ; and the outline of his
face, though not full enough to be round, and too
finely converging to the small, dimpled chin to be
square, could never be drawn out to the long oval of
the other's, while the child's hair was evidently of a
lighter, warmer tint than the elder gentleman's had
ever been, and his large, clear, blue eyes, though prema-
turely serious at times, were utterly dissimilar to the
shy hazel eyes of Mr Lawrence, whence the sensitive
soul looked so distrustfully forth, as ever ready to
retire within, from the offences of a too rude, too
uncongenial world. Wretch that I was to harbour
that detestable idea for a moment ! Did I not know
Mrs Graham ? Had I not seen her, conversed with
her time after time ? Was I not certain that she, in
intellect, in purity and elevation of soul, was im-
measurably superior to any of her detractors ; that she
was, in fact, the noblest, the most adorable, of her sex I
had ever beheld, or even imagined to exist ? Yes, and
I would say with Mary Millward (sensible girl as she
was), that if all the parish, ay, or all the world, should
din these horrible lies in my ears, I would not believe
them, for I knew her better than they.

Meantime my brain was on fire with indignation, and
my heart seemed ready to burst from its prison with
conflicting passions. I regarded my two fair neighbours
with a feeling of abhorrence and loathing I scarcely
endeavoured to conceal. I was rallied from several
quarters for my abstraction and ungallant neglect of
the ladies ; but I cared little for that : all I cared about,
besides that one grand subject of my thoughts, was to
see the cups travel up to the tea-tray, and not come
down again. I thought Mr Millward never would
cease telling us that he was no tea-drinker, and that it
was highly injurious to keep loading the stomach with
slops to the exclusion of more wholesome sustenance,
and so give himself time to finish his fourth cup.

At length it was over ; and I rose and left the table
and the guests without a word of apology — I could

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 75

endure their company no longer. I ruslie<l out to cool
my brain in the balmy evening air, and to compose my
mind or indulge my passionate thoughts in the solitude
of the garden.

To avoid being seen from the windows I went down a
quiet little avenue that skirted one side of the inclosure,
at the bottom of which was a seat embowered in roses
and honeysuckles. Here I sat down to think over the
virtues and wrongs of the lady of Wildfell Hall ; but I
had not been so occupied two minutes, before voices
and laughter, and glimpses of moving objects through
the trees, informed me that the whole company had
turned out to take an airing in the garden too. How-
ever, I nestled up in a corner of the bovver, and hoped
to retain possession of it, secure alike from observation
and intrusion. But no — confound it — there was some
one coming down the avenue ! Why couldn't they
enjoy the flowers and sunshine of the open garden,
and leave that sunless nook to me, and the gnats and
midges ?

But, peeping through my fragrant screen of the in-
terwoven branches to discover who the intruders were
(for a murmur of voices told me it was more than one),
my vexation instantly subsided, and far other feelings
agitated my still unquiet soul ; for there was Mrs
Graham, slowly moving down the walk with Arthur
by her side, and no one else. Why were they alone ?
Had the poison of detracting tongues already spread
through all ; and had they all turned their backs upon
her? I now recollected having seen Mrs Wilson, in
the early part of the evening, edging her chair close
up to my mother, and bending forward, evidently in
the delivery of some important, confidential intelli-
gence ; and from the incessant wagging of her head,
the frequent distortions of her wrinkled physiognomy,
and the winking and malicious twinkle of her little
ugly eyes, I judged it was some spicy piece of scandal
that engaged her powers ; and from the cautious privacy
of the communication I supposed some person then
present was the luckless object of her calumnies ; and

76 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

from all these tokens, together with my mother's looks
aiid gestures of mingled horror and incredulity, I now
concluded that object to have been Mrs Graham. I
did not emerge from my place of concealment till she
had nearly reached the bottom of the walk, lest my
appearance should drive her away ; and when I did step
forward she stood still and seemed inclined to turn
back as it was.

" Oh, don't let us disturb you, Mr Markham I" said
she. " We came here to seek retirement ourselves,
not to intrude on your seclusion. "

" I am no hermit, Mrs Graham — though 1 own it
looks rather like it to absent myself in this uncourteous
fashion from my guests."

" I feared you were unwell," said she, with a look of
real concern.

" I was rather, but it's over now. Do sit here a little
and rest, and tell me how you like this arbour," said I,
and, lifting Arthur by the shoulders, I planted him in
the middle of the seat by way of securing his mamma,
who, acknowledging it to be a tempting place of refuge,
threw herself back in one corner while I took posses-
sion of the other.

But that word refuge disturbed me. Had their un-
kindness then really driven her to seek for peace in
solitude ?

" Why have they left you alone?" I asked.

" It is I who have left them," was the smiling re-
joinder. "I was wearied to death with small-talk —
nothing wears me out like that. I cannot imagine how
they can go on as they do."

I could not help smiling at the serious depth of her
wonderment.

' ' Is it that they think it a duty to be continually
talking," pursued she ; " and so never pause to think,
but fill up with aimless trifles and vain repetitions when
subjects of real interest fail to present themselves ? or
do they really take a pleasure in such discourse ? "

" Very likely they do," said I : " their shallow minds
can hold no great ideas, and their light heads are carried

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 77

away by trivialities that would not move a better-fur-
nished skull ; and their only alternative to such dis-
course is to plunge over head and ears into the slough
of scandal — which is their chief delight."

"Not all of them, surely?" cried the lady, astonished
at the bitterness of my remark.

"No, certainly; I exonerate my sister from such
degraded tastes, and my mother, too, if you included
her in your animadversions."

• ' I meant no animadversions against any one, and
certainly intended no disrespectful allusions to your
mother. I have known some sensible persons great
adepts in that style of conversation when circumstances
impelled them to it ; but it is a gift I cannot boast the
possession of. I kept up my attention on this occasion
as long as I could, but when my powers were exhausted
I stole away to seek a few minutes repose in this quiet
walk. I hate talking where there is no exchange of
ideas or sentiments, and no good given or received."

"Well," said I, "if ever I trouble you with my
loquacity tell me so at once, and I promise not to be
offended ; for I possess the faculty of enjoying the

company of those I of my friends as well in silence

as in conversation."

" I don't quite believe you ; but if it were so you
would exactly suit me for a companion."

" I am all you wish, then, in other respects ? "

"No, I don't mean that. How beautiful those little
clusters of foliage look, where the sun comes through
behind them ! " said she, on purpose to change the
subject.

And they did look beautiful, where at intervals the
level rays of the sun penetrating the thickness of trees
and shrubs on the opposite side of the path before us,
relieved their dusky verdure by displaying patches of
semi-transparent leaves of resplendent golden green.

" I almost wish 1 were not a painter," observed my
companion.

"Why so? one would think at such a time you
would most exult in your privilege of being able tn

78 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

imitate the various brilliant and delightful touches of
nature."

" No ; for instead of delivering myself up to the full
enjoyment of them as others do, I am always troubling
my head about how I could produce the same effect
upon canvas ; and as that can never be done, it is mere
vanity and vexation of spirit."

" Perhaps you cannot do it to satisfy yourself, but
you may and do succeed in delighting others with the
result of your endeavours."

" Well, after all I should not complain : perhaps few
people gain their livelihood with so much pleasure in
their toil as I do. Here is some one coming. "

She seemed vexed at the interruption.

" It is only Mr Lawrence and Miss Wilson," said I,
"coming to enjoy a quiet stroll. They will not dis-
turb us."

I could not quite decipher the expression of her face ;
but I was satisfied there was no jealousy therein. What
business had I to look for it ?

" What sort of a person is Miss Wilson?" she asked.

" She is elegant and accomplished above the gener-
ality of her birth and station ; and some say she is
lady-like and agreeable."

" I thought her somewhat frigid, and rather super-
cilious in her manner to-day."

" Very likely she might be so to you. She has possibly
taken a prejudice against you, for I think she regards
you in the light of a rival."

" Me ! Impossible, Mr Markham ! " said she,
evidently astonished and annoyed.

" Well, I know nothing about it," returned I, rather
doggedly ; for I thought her annoyance was chiefly
against myself.

The pair had now approached within a few paces of
us. Our arbour was set snugly back in a corner before
which the avenue at its termination turned off into the
more airy walk along the bottom of the garden. As
they approached this, I saw, by the aspect of Jane
Wilson, that she was directing her companion's atten-

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 79

tion to us ; and, as well by her cold, sarcastic smile as
by the few isolated words of her discourse that reached
.iie, I knew full well that she was impressing him with
the idea that we were strongly attached to each other.
I noticed that he coloured up to the temples, gave us
one furtive glance in passing, and walked on, looking
grave, but seemingly offering ni> reply to her remarks.

It was true, then, that he had some designs upon
Mrs Graham ; and, were they honourable, he would
not be so anxious to conceal them. She was blameless,
of course, but he was detestable beyond all count.

While these thoughts flashed through my mind, my
companion abruptly rose, and calling her son, said they
would now go in quest of the company, and departed
up the avenue. Doubtless she had heard or guessed
something of Miss Wilson's remarks, and therefore it
was natural enough she should choose to continue the
tete-a-tete no longer, especially as at that moment my
cheeks were burning with indignation against my former
friend, the token of which she might mistake for a blush
of stupid embarrassment. For this I owed Miss Wilson
yet another grudge; and still thejnpre I thought upon
her conduct the more I hated her.

It was late in the evening before I joined the com-
pany. I found Mrs Graham already equipped for
departure, and taking leave of the rest who were now
returned to the house. I offered, nay, begged to
accompany her home. Mr Lawrence was standing by
at the time conversing with some one else. He did
not look at us, but, on hearing my earnest request,
he paused in the middle of a sentence to listen for her
reply, and went on, with a look of quiet satisfaction the
moment he found it was to be a denial.

A denial it was, decided, though not unkind. She
could not be persuaded to think there was danger for
herself or her child in traversing those lonely lanes
and fields without attendance. It was daylight still,
and she should meet no one ; or if she did, the people
were quiet and harmless she was well assured. In fact
she would not hear of any one's putting himself out of

80 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

the way to accompany her, though Fergus vouchsafed
to offer his services in case they should be more accept-
able than mine, and my mother begged she might send
one of the farming-men to escort her.

When she was gone the rest was all a blank or
worse. Lawrence attempted to draw me into conver-
sation, but I snubbed him and went to another part of
the room. Shortly after the party broke up and he
himself took leave. When he came to me 1 was blind
to his extended hand, and deaf to his good night till he
repeated it a second time ; and then, to get rid of him,
1 muttered an inarticulate reply accompanied by a sulky
nod.

" What is the matter, Markham ? " whispered he.

I replied by a wrathful and contemptuous stare.

" Are you angry because Mrs Graham would not
let you go home with her ? '' he asked with a faint
smile that nearly exasperated me beyond control.

But, swallowing down all fiercer answers, I merely
demanded, —

<e What business is it of yours ? "

" Why, none," replied he, with provoking quiet-
ness ; " only," and he raised his eyes to my face, and
spoke with unusual solemnity, " only let me tell you,
Markham, that if you have any designs in that quarter
they will certainly fail ; and it grieves me to see you
cherishing false hopes, and wasting your strength in
useless efforts, for "

" Hypocrite ! " I exclaimed ; and he held his breath,
and looked very blank, turned white about the gills,
and went away without another word.

I had wounded him to the quick ; and I was glad
of it.

CHAPTER X

WHEN all were gone, I learnt that the vile slander had
indeed been circulated throughout the company, in the
very presence of the victim. Rose, however, vowed

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 81

she did not and would not believe it, and my mother
made the same declaration, though not, I fear, with
the same amount of real, unwavering incredulity. It
seemed to dwell continually on her mind, and she kept
irritating me from time to time by such expressions as
— " Dear, dear, who would have thought it ! — Well !
I always thought there was something odd about her. —
You see what it is for women to affect to be different to
other people." And once it was, —

" I misdoubted that appearance of mystery from
the very first — I thought there would be no good como
of it ; but this is a sad, sad business to be sure ! "

" Why mother, you said you didn't believe these
tales," said Fergus.

" No more I do, my dear ; but then, you know, there
must be some foundation."

" The foundation is in the wickedness and falsehood
of the world," said I, " and in the fact that Mr Law-
rence has been seen to go that way once or twice of
an evening — and the village gossips say he goes to pay
his addresses to the strange lady, and the scandal-
mongers have greedily seized the rumour, to make it
the basis of their own infernal structure."

" Well, but Gilbert, there must be something in her
manner to countenance such reports."

" Did you see anything in her manner?"

" No, certainly ; but then you know, I always said
there was something strange about her."

I believe it was on that very evening that I ventured
on another invasion of Wildfell Hall. From the time
of our party, which was upwards of a week ago, I had
been making daily efforts to meet its mistress in her
walks ; and always disappointed (she must have
managed it so on purpose), had nightly kept revolving
in my mind some pretext for another call. At length,
I concluded that the separation could be endured no
longer (by this time, you will see, I was pretty far
gone) ; and, taking from the book case an old volume
that I thought she might be interested in, though,
from its unsightly and somewhat dilapidated condition,

82 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

I had not yet ventured to offer it for perusal, I hastened
away, — but not without sundry misgivings as to how
she would receive me, or how I could summon courage
to present myself with so slight an excuse. But, per-
haps, I might see her in the field or the garden, and
then there would be no great difficulty : it was the
formal knocking at the door, with the prospect of
being gravely ushered in by Rachel, to the presence
of a surprised, uncordial mistress, that so greatly
disturbed me.

My wish, however, was not gratified. Mrs Graham,
herself, was not to be seen ; but there was Arthur play-
ing with his frolicsome little dog in the garden. I
looked over the gate and called him to me. He wanted
me to come in ; but I told him I could not without his
mother's leave.

" Pll go and ask her," said the child.

" No, no, Arthur, you mustn't do that, — but if she's
not engaged, just ask her to come here a minute : tell
her I want to speak to her."

He ran to perform my bidding, and quickly returned
with his mother. How lovely she looked with her
dark ringlets streaming in the light summer breeze,
her fair cheek slightly flushed and her countenance
radiant with smiles !— Dear Arthur ! what did 1 not
owe to you for this and every other happy meeting? —
Through him, I was at once delivered from all for-
mality, and terror, and constraint. In love affairs,
there is no mediator like a merry, simple-hearted child
— ever ready to cement divided hearts, to span the
unfriendly gulf of custom, to melt the ice of cold
reserve, and overthrow the separating walls of dread
formality and pride.

' ' Well, Mr Markham, what is it?" said the young
mother, accosting me with a pleasant smile.

" I want you to look at this book, and, if you please,
to take it, and peruse it at your leisure. I make no
apology for calling you out on such a lovely evening,
though it be for a matter of no greater importance."

"Tell him to come in, mamma," said Arthur.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 83

" Would you like to come in ?" asked the lady.

' ' Yes ; I should like to see your improvements in
the garden."

" And how your sister's roots have prospered in my
charge," added she, as she opened the gate.

And we sauntered through the garden, and talked of
the flowers, the trees, and the book, — and then of other
things. The evening was kind and genial, and so was
my companion. By degrees, I waxed more warm and
tender than, perhaps, I had ever been before ; but still,
I said nothing tangible, and she attempted no repulse ;
until, in passing a moss-rose tree that I had brought
her some weeks since, in my sister's name, she plucked
a beautiful half open bud and bade me give it to
Rose.

" May I not keep it myself? " I asked.

" No ; but here is another for you."

Instead of taking it quietly, I likewise took the hand
that offered it, and looked into her face. She let me
hold it for a moment, and I saw a flash of ecstatic
brilliance in her eye, a glow of glad excitement on her
face — I thought my hour of victory was come — but
instantly, a painful recollection seemed to flash upon
her ; a cloud of anguish darkened her brow, a marble
paleness blanched her cheek and lip ; there seemed a
moment of inward conflict, — and with a sudden effort,
she withdrew her hand, and retreated a step or two
back.

"Now, Mr Markham," said she, with a kind of
desperate calmness, " I must tell you plainly, that 1
cannot do with this. I like your company, because I
am alone here, and your conversation pleases me more
than that of any other person ; but if you cannot lie
content to regard me as a friend — a plain, cold,
motherly, or sisterly friend, I must beg you to leave
me no\v, and let me alone hereafter — in fact, we must
be strangers for the future. "

" I will, then — be your friend, — or brother, or any-
thing you wish, if you will only let me continue to see
you ; but tell me why I cannot be any tiling more?"

84 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

There was a perplexed and thoughtful pause.
" Is it in consequence of some rash vow ? "
" It is something of the kind/' she answered —
"some day I may tell you, but, at present you had
better leave me ; and never, Gilbert, put me to the
painful necessity of repeating what I have just now
said to you ! " — she earnestly added, giving me her
hand in serious kindness. How sweet, how musical
my own name sounded in her mouth !

" I will not," I replied. " But you pardon this
offence ?"

" On condition that you never repeat it."
" And may I come to see you now and then ? "
" Perhaps, — occasionally ; provided you never abuse
the privilege."

"I make no empty promises, but you shall see."
t( The moment you do, our intimacy is at an end,
that's all."

" And will you always call me Gilbert ? — it sounds
more sisterly, and it will serve to remind me of our
contract."

She smiled, and once more bid me go, — and, at
length, I judged it prudent to obey ; and she re-
entered the house, and I went down the hill. But as
I went, the tramp of horses' hoofs fell on my ear, and
broke the stillness of the dewy evening ; and, looking
towards the lane, I saw a solitary equestrian coming
up. Inclining to dusk as it was, I knew him at a
glance : it was Mr Lawrence on his grey pony. I
flew across the field — leaped the stone fence — and then
walked down the lane to meet him. On seeing me, he
suddenly drew in his little steed, and seemed inclined
to turn back, but on second thought, apparently judged
it better to continue his course as before. He accosted
me with a slight bow, and, edging close to the wall,
endeavoured to pass on — b.ut I was not so minded :
seizing his horse by the bridle, 1 exclaimed, —

" Now Lawrence, I will have this mystery explained !
Tell me where you are going, and what you mean to
do — at once, and distinctly ! "

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 86

" Will you take your hand off the bridle?" said he,
quietly — "you're hurtiii:;- my pony's mouth."

"You and your pony be "

" What makes you so coarse and brutal, Markham ?
I'm quite ashamed of you."

"You answer my questions — before you leave this
spot ! I will know what you mean by this perfidious
duplicity ! "

" I shall answer no questions till you let go the
bridle, — if you stand till morning."

" Now then," said I, unclosing my hand, but still
standing before him.

" Ask me some other time, when you can speak like
a gentleman," returned he, and he made an effort to
pass me again ; but I quickly re-captured the pony,
scarce less astonished than its master at such uncivil
usage.

" Really Mr Markham, this is too much ! " said the
latter. " Can I not go to see my tenant on matters
of business, without being assaulted in this manner
by "

"This is no time for business, sir ! — I'll tell you,
now, what I think of your conduct."

" You'd better defer your opinion to a more con-
venient season," interrupted he in a low tone — " here's
the vicar."

And in truth, the vicar was just behind me, plodding
homeward from some remote corner of his parish. I
immediately released the squire ; and he went on his
way, saluting Mr Millward as he passed.

"What quarrelling, Markham?" cried the latter,
addressing himself to me, — " and about that young
widow I doubt," he added, reproachfully shaking his
head. " But let me tell you, young man " (here he
put his face into mine with an important, confidential
air), " she's not worth it ! " and: he confirmed the
assertion by a solemn nod.

•• Ma Mn.r.wARD," I exclaimed, in a tone of wrath-
ful menace that made the reverend gentleman look
round — aghast— astounded at such unwonted insolence,

86 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

and stare me in the lace, with a look that plainly said :
" What, this to me ! " But I was too indignant to
apologise, or to speak another word to him : I turned
away, and hastened homewards, descending with rapid
strides the steep, rough lane, and leaving him to follow
as he pleased.

CHAPTER XI

You must suppose about three weeks past over. Mrs
Graham and I were now established friends — or brother
and sister as we rather chose to consider ourselves.
She called me Gilbert, by my express desire, and I
called her Helen, for I had seen that name written in
her books. I seldom attempted to see her above twice
a-week ; and still I made our meetings appear the
result of accident as often as I could — for I found it
necessary to be extremely careful — and, altogether, I
behaved with such exceeding propriety that she never
had occasion to reprove me once. Yet I could not but
perceive that she was at times unhappy and dissatisfied
with herself or her position, and truly I myself was
not quite contented with the latter : this assumption
of brotherly nonchalance was very hard to sustain, and
I often felt myself a most confounded hypocrite with
it all ; I saw too, or rather I felt, that, in spite of
herself, ' I was not indifferent to her,' as the novel
heroes modestly express it, and while I thankfully
enjoyed my present good fortune, I could not fail to
wish and hope for something better in future ; but, of
course, I kept such dreams entirely to myself.

" Where are you going, Gilbert ? " said Rose^ one
evening, shortly after tea, when I had been busy with
the farm all day.

<e To take a walk/' was the reply.

" Do you always brush your hat so carefully, and do
your hair so nicely, and put on such smart new gloves
when you take a walk ? "

" Not always."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 87

" You're going to Wildfell Hall, aren't you ?"

" What makes you think so?"

'•' Because you look as if you were — but I wish you
wouldn't go so often."

" Nonsense, child ! I don't go once in six weeks —
what do you mean ? "

"Well, but if I were you, I wouldn't have so much
to do with Mrs Graham."

" Why Rose, are you, too, giving in to the prevailing
opinion ? "

"No," returned she, hesitatingly — "but I've heard
so much about her lately, both at the Wilsons and the
vicarage ; — and besides, mamma says, if she were a
proper person she would not be living there by herself
— and don't you remember last winter, Gilbert, all
that about the false name to the picture ; and how she
explained it — saying she had friends or acquaintances
from whom she wished her present residence to be
concealed, and that she wa* afraid of their tracing her
out ; — and then, how suddenly she started up and left
the room when that person came — whom she took
good care not to let us catch a glimpse of, and who
Arthur, with such an air of mystery, told us was his
mamma's friend ? "

" Yes, Rose, I remember it all ; and I can forgive
your uncharitable conclusions ; for perhaps, if I did not
know her myself, I should put all these things together,
and believe the same as you do ; but thank God, I do
know her ; and I should he unworthy the name of a
man, if I could believe anything tbat was said against
her, unless 1 heard it from her own lips. — I should as
soon believe such things of you, Rose."

" Oh, Gilbert ! "

" Well, do you think I could believe anything of the
kind,— whatever the Wilsons and Millwards dared to
whisper ? "

" I should hope not indeed ! "

" And why not? — Because I know you. — Well, and
I know her just as well."

" Oh, no ! you know nothing of her former life ; and

88 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

last year at this time, you did not know that such a
person existed."

" No matter. There is such a thing as looking
through a person's eyes into the heart, and learning
more of the height, and breadth, and depth of another's
soul in one hour, than it might »take you a lifetime to
discover, if he or she were not disposed to reveal it, or
if you had not the sense to understand it."

' Then you are going to see her this evening ? "

' To be sure I am ! "

' But what would mamma say, Gilbert ? "

' Mamma needn't know."

' But she must know some time, if you go on."

' Go on ! — there's no going on in the matter. Mrs
Graham and I are two friends — and will be ; and no
man breathing shall hinder it, — or has a right to
interfere between us."

" But if you knew how they talk, you would be more
careful, for her sake as well as for your own. Jane
Wilson thinks your visits to the old hall but another
proof of her depravity "

1 Confound Jane Wilson ! "

' And Eliza Mill ward is quite grieved about you."

' I hope she is."

' But I wouldn't, if I were you."

( Wouldn't what ? — How do they know that I go
there?"

" There's nothing hid from them : they spy out
everything. "

" Oh, I never thought of this ! — And so they dare to
turn my friendship into food for further scandal
against her ! — That proves the falsehood of their other
lies, at all events, if any proof were wanting. — Mind
you contradict them, Rose, whenever you can."

' ' But they don't speak openly to me about such
things : it is only by hints and innuendoes, and by
what I hear others say, that I knew what they think."

" Well then, I won't go to day, as it's getting latish.
But oh, deuce take their cursed envenomed tongues ! "
I muttered, in the bitterness of my soul.

THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL 89

And just at that moment the vicar entered the
room : we had been too much absorbed in our con-
versation to observe his knock. After his customary,
cheerful, and fatherly greeting of Rose, who was
rather a favourite with the old geu-Ueman, he turned
somewhat sternly to me : J

" Well, sir ! " said he, " yon'rh quite a stranger.
It is — let — me — see," he continued, slowly, as he
deposited his ponderous bulk in the arm chair that
Rose officiously brought towards him, "it is just — six
— weeks — by my reckoning, since you darkened — my
— door ! " He spoke it with emphasis, and struck his
stick on the floor.

" Is it, sir ? " said I.

" Ay ! It is so ! '' He added an affirmatory nod,
and continued to gaze upon me with a kind of irate
solemnity, holding his substantial stick between his
knees, with his hands clasped upon its head.

" I have been busy," I said, for an apology was
evidently demanded.

" Busy ! " repeated he, derisively.

" Yes, you know I've been getting in my hay ; and
now the harvest is beginning.''

< ' Humph ! "

Just then my mother came in, and created a diversion
in my favour, by her loquacious and animated welcome
of the reverend guest. She regretted deeply that he
had not come a little earlier, in time for tea, but
offered to have some immediately prepared, if he would
do her the favour to partake of it.

" Not any for me, I thank you/' replied he ; "I
shall be at home in a few minutes."

"Oh, but do stay and take a little ! it will be ready
in five minutes."

Hut he rejected the offer, with a majestic wave of
the hand.

" I'll tell you what I'll take, Mrs Markham," said
he : " I'll take a glass of your excellent ale.*'

" With pleasure ! " cried my mother, proceeding with
alacrity to pull the bell and order the favoured beverage.

90 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

"I thought/' continued he, "I'd just look in upon
you as I passed, and taste your home-brewed ale. I've
been to call on Mrs Graham."

" Have you, indeed ? "

He nodded gravely, and added with awful emphasis —

"I thought it iir:umbent upon me to do so."

" Really ! " ejaci dated my mother.

"Why so, Mr A4 ill ward ? >J asked I. He looked at
me with some severity, and turning again to my
mother, repeated, —

" I thought it incumbent upon me ! " and struck
his stick on the floor again. My mother sat opposite,
an awe-struck, but admiring auditor.

" ' Mrs Graham,' said I," he continued, shaking his
head as he spoke, "' these are terrible reports!'
' What, sir ? ' says she, affecting to be ignorant of my
meaning. ' It is my — duty — as — your pastor,' said I,
' to tell you both everything that I myself see repre-
hensible in your conduct, and all I have reason to
suspect, and what others tell me concerning you.'—
So I told her ! "

" You did, sir?" cried I, starting from my seat, and
striking my fist on the table. He merely glanced
towards me, and continued — addressing his hostess :—

" It was a painful duty, Mrs Markham — but I told
her ! "

" And how did she take it ? " asked my mother.

" Hardened, I fear — hardened ! " he replied, with
a despondent shake of the head; "and, at the same
time, there was a strong display of unchastened, mis-
directed passions. She turned white in the face, and
drew her breath through her teeth in a savage sort
of way ; — but she offered no extenuation or defence ;
and with a kind of shameless calmness— shocking
indeed to witness in one so young — as good as told
me that my remonstrance was unavailing, and my
pastoral advice quite thrown away upon her — nay,
that my very presence was displeasing while I spoke
such things. And I withdrew at length, too plainly
seeing that nothing could be done — and sadly grieved

THE TENANT OF WJLDFELL HALL 91

to find her case so hopeless. But I am fully deter-
mined, Mrs Markham, that my daughters — shall —
not — consort with her. Do you adopt the same resolu-
tion with regard to yours ! — As for your sous— as for
you, young man," he continued, sternly turning to
me

" As for ME, sir/' I began, but checked by some
impediment in my utterance, and finding that my
whole frame trembled with fury, I said no more, but
took the wiser part of snatching up my hat and bolting
from the room, slamming the door behind me, with
a bang that shook the house to its foundations, and
made my mother scream, and gave a momentary relief
to my excited feelings.

The next minute saw me hurrying with rapid strides
in the direction of Wildfell Hall — to what intent or
purpose I could scarcely tell, but I must be moving
somewhere, and no other goal would do — I must see
her too, and speak to her — that was certain ; but
what to say, or how to act, I had no definite idea.
Such stormy thoughts — so many different resolutions
crowded in upon me, that my mind was little_better
than a chaos of conflicting pas.sions.

CHAFFER XII

IN little more than twenty minutes, the journey was
accomplished. 1 paused at the gate to wipe my
streaming forehead, and recover my breath and some
degree of composure. Already the rapid walking had
somewhat mitigated my excitement ; and with a firm
and steady tread, J paced the garden walk. In passing
the inhabited wing of the building, I caught a sight
of Mrs Graham, through the open window, slowly
pacing up and down her lonely room.

She seemed agitated, and even dismayed at my
arrival, as if she thought I too was coming to accuse
her. I had entered her presence intending to condole
with her upon the wickedness of the world, and help

92 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

her to abuse the vicar and his vile informants, but
now I felt positively ashamed to mention the subject,
and determined not to refer to it, unless she led the
way.

"I am come at an unseasonable hour," said I,
assuming a cheerfulness I did not feel, in order to
reassure her ; " but I won't stay many minutes."

She smiled upon me, faintly it is true, but most
kindly — I had almost said thankfully, as her appre-
hensions were removed.

" How dismal you are, Helen ! Why have you no
fire ? " I said, looking round on the gloomy apartment.

" It is summer yet," she replied.

" But we always have a fire in the evenings, if we
can bear it ; and you especially require one in this
cold house and dreary room."

" You should have come a little sooner, and I would
have had one lighted for you ; but it is not worth
while now, you won't stay many minutes you say, and
Arthur is gone to bed."

" But I have a fancy for a fire, nevertheless. Will
you order one, if I ring ? "

"Why, Gilbert, you don't look cold!" said she,
smilingly regarding my face, which no doubt seemed
warm enough.

" No," replied I, " but I want to see you comfort-
able before I go."

" Me comfortable ! " repeated she, with a bitter
laugh, as if there were something amusingly absurd
in the idea. " It suits me better as it is," she added,
in a tone of mournful resignation.

But determined to have my own way, I pulled the
bell.

" There now, Helen ! " I said, as the approaching
steps of Rachel were heard in answer to the summons.
There was nothing for it but to turn round and desire
the maid to light the fire.

I owe Rachel a grudge to this day, for the look she
cast upon me ere she departed on her mission, the
sour, suspicious, inquisitorial look that plainly de-

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 93

manded, "what are you here for, I wonder?" Her
mistress did not fail to notice it, and a shade of un-
easiness darkened her brow.

" You must not stay long, Gilbert,'' said she, when
the door was closed upon us.

" I'm not going to, ' said I, somewhat testily, though
without a grain of anger in my heart against any one
but the meddling old woman. " But, Helen, I've
something to say to you before I go."

"What is it?"

" No, not now — I don't know yet precisely what it
is, or how to say it," replied I, with more truth than
wisdom ; and then, fearing lest she should turn me
out of the house, I began talking about indifferent
matters in order to gain time. Meanwhile Rachel
came in to kindle the fire, which was soon effected by
thrusting a red-hot poker between the bars of the
grate, where the fuel was already disposed for ignition.
She honoured me with another of her hard, inhospitable
looks in departing, but, little moved thereby, I went
on talking ; and setting a chair for Mrs Graham on
one side of the hearth, and one for myself on the
other, I ventured to sit down, though half suspecting
she would rather see me go.

In a little while we both relapsed into silence, and
continued for several minutes gazing abstractedly into
the fire — she intent upon her own sad thoughts, and I
reflecting how delightful it would be to be seated thus
beside her with no other presence to restrain our
intercourse — not even that of Arthur, our mutual
friend, without whom we had never met before — if
only I could venture to speak my mind, and disburden
my full heart of the feelings that had so long oppressed
it, and which it now struggled to retain, with an effort
that it seemed impossible to continue much longer, —
and revolving the pros and cons for opening my heart
to her there and then, and imploring a return of
affection, the permission to regard her thenceforth as
my own, and the right and the power to defend her
from the calumnies of malicious tongues. On the one

94 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

hand, I felt a new-born confidence in my powers of
persuasion — a strong conviction that my own fervour
of spirit would grant me eloquence — that my very
determination — the absolute necessity for succeeding,
that I felt must win me what I sought ; while on the
other, I feared to lose the ground I had already gained
with so much toil and skill, and destroy all future
hope by one rash effort, when time and patience might
have won success. It was like setting my life upon
the cast of a die ; and yet I was ready to resolve upon
the attempt. At any rate, I would entreat the
explanation she had half promised to give me before ;
I would demand the reason of this hateful barrier, this
mysterious impediment to my happiness, and, as I
trusted, to her own.

But while I considered in what manner I could best
frame my request, my companion, wakened from her
reverie with a scarcely audible sigh, and looking
towards the window where the blood-red harvest moon,
just rising over one of the grim, fantastic evergreens,
was shining in upon us, said, —

' ' Gilbert, it is getting late. "

ee I see," said I. " Yon want me to go, I suppose."

" I think you ought. If my kind neighbours get to
know of this visit — as no doubt they will — they will
not turn it much to my ad vantage. "

It was with what the vicar would doubtless have
called a savage sort of a smile that she said this.

" Let them turn it as they will," said I. " What
are their thoughts to you or me, so long as we are
satisfied with ourselves — and each other. Let them
go to the deuce with their vile constructions, and their
lying inventions ! "

This outburst brought a flash of colour to her face.

" You have heard, then, what they say of me?"

" I heard some detestable falsehoods ; but none but
fools would credit them for a moment, Helen, so don't
let them trouble you."

" I did not think Mr Millward a fool, and he believes
it all ; but however little you may value the opinions

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 96

of those about you — however little you may esteem
them as individuals, it is not pleasant to be looked
upon as a liar and a hypocrite, to be thought to
practise what you abhor, and to encourage the vices
you would discountenance, to find your good intentions
frustrated, and your hands crippled by your supposed
unworthiness, and to bring disgrace on the principles
you profess."

" True ; anflif I, by my thoughtlessness and selfish
disregard to appearances, have at all assisted to expose
you to these evils, let me entreat you not only to
pardon me, but to enable me to make reparation ;
authorise me to clear your name from every imputa-
tion : give me the right to identify your honour
with my own, and to defend your reputation as more
precious than my life ! "

" Are you hero enough to unite yourself to one
whom you know to be suspected and despised by all
around you, and identify your interests and your honour
witli hers? Think ! it is a serious thing."

" I should be proud to do it, Helen ! — most happy —
delighted beyond expression ! — and if that be all the
obstacle to our union, it is demolished, and you must —
you shall be mine ! ''

And starting from my seat in a frenzy of ardour, I
seized her hand and would have pressed it to my lips,
but she as suddenly caught it away, exclaiming in the
bitterness of intense affliction, —

" No, no, it is not all ! "

" What is it then ? You promised I should know
some time, and ''

" You shall know some time — but not now — my head
aches terribly," she said, pressing her hand to her fore-
head, "and 1 must have some repose — and surely, I
have had misery enough to-day ! " she added, almost
wildly.

" But it could not harm you to tell it," I persisted :
" it would ease your mind ; and I should then know
how to comfort you.'1

She shook her head despondingly. "If you knew

96 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

all, you, too, would blame me — perhaps even more
than I deserve — though I have cruelly wronged you,"
she added in a low murmur, as if she mused aloud.

" You, Helen ? Impossible ! ''

" Yes, not willingly ; for I did not know the strength
and depth of your attachment. I thought — at least I
endeavoured to think your regard for me was as cold
and fraternal as you professed it to be."

" Or as yours ? ''

" Or as mine — ought to have been — of such a light
and selfish, superficial nature that "

" There, indeed, you wronged me."

" I know I did ; and sometimes, I suspected it then ;
but I thought, upon the whole, there could be no great
harm in leaving your fancies and your hopes to dream
themselves to nothing — or flutter away to some more
fitting object, while your friendly sympathies remained
with me ; but if I had known the depth of your re-
gard, the generous disinterested affection you seem to
feel "

"Seem, Helen?"

" That you do feel, then, I would have acted dif-
ferently."

" How ? You could not have given me less encour-
agement, or treated me with greater severity than you
did ! And if you think you have wronged me by giving
me your friendship, and occasionally admitting me to
the enjoyment of your company and conversation, when
all hopes of closer intimacy were vain — as indeed you
always gave me to understand — if you think you have
wronged me by this, you are mistaken ; for such favours,
in themselves alone, are not only delightful to my
heart, but purifying, exalting, ennobling to my soul ;
and I would rather have your friendship than the love
of any other woman in the world ! ''

Little comforted by this, she clasped her hands upon
her knee, and glancing upward, seemed, in silent
anguish, to implore divine assistance ; then turning to
me, she calmly said, —

" To-morrow, if you meet me on the moor about mid-

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 97

day, I will tell you all you seek to know ; and perhaps
you will then see the necessity of discontinuing our
intimacy — if, indeed, you do not willingly resign me
as one no longer worthy of regard."

" I can safely answer no, to that : you cannot have
such grave confessions to make — you must be trying
my faith, Helen."

"No, no, no," she earnestly repeated — "I wish it
were so ! Thank Heaven ! " she added, " I have no
great crime to confess ; but I have more than you will
like to hear, or, perhaps, can readily excuse, — and
more than I can tell you now ; so let me entreat you
to leave me ! "

" I will ; but answer me this one question first ; — do
you love me ? "

•' I will not answer it ! "

"Then I will conclude you do; and so good night."

She turned from me to hide the emotion she could
not quite control ; but I took her hand and fervently
kissed it.

" Gilbert, do leave me ! " she cried, in a tone of such
thrilling anguish that I felt it would be cruel to disobey.

But I gave one look back before I closed the door,
and saw her leaning forward on the table, with her
hands pressed against her eyes, sobbing convulsively ;
yet 1 withdrew in silence. I felt that to obtrude my
consolations on her then would only serve to aggravate
her sufferings.

To tell you all the questionings and conjectures —
the fears, and hopes, and wild emotions that jostled
and chased each other through my mind as I descended
the hill, would almost fill a volume in itself. But
before I was half way down a sentiment of strong
sympathy for her I had left behind me had displaced
all other feelings, and seemed imperatively to draw me
buck : I began to think, " Why am I hurrying so fast
in this direction? Can I find comfort or consolation
— peace, certainty, contentment, all — or anything that
I want at home? and can I leave all perturbation,
sorrow, and anxiety behind me there?"

98 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

And I turned round to look at the old hall. There ]
was little besides the chimneys visible above my con-
tracted horizon. I walked back to get a better view of
it. When it rose in sight, I stood still a moment to
look, and then continued moving towards the gloomy
object of attraction. Something called me nearer —
nearer still — and why not, pray? Might I not find
more benefit in the contemplation of that venerable
pile with the full moon in the cloudless heaven shining
so calmly above it — with that warm yellow lustre
peculiar to an August night — and the mistress of my
soul within, than in returning to my home where all
comparatively was light, and life, and cheerfulness,
and therefore inimical to me in my present frame of
mind, — and the more so that its inmates all were more
or less imbued with that detestable belief the very
thought of which made my blood boil in my veins —
and how could I endure to hear it openly declared — or
cautiously insinuated — which was worse? — I had had
trouble enough already, with some babbling fiend that
would keep whispering in my ear, " It may be true,"
till I had shouted aloud, " It is false ! I defy you to
make me suppose it ! "

1 could see the red fire-light dimly gleaming from
her parlour window. I went up to the garden wall,
and stood leaning over it, with my eyes fixed upon the
lattice, wondering what she was doing, thinking, or
suffering now, and wishing I could speak to her but
one word, or even catch one glimpse of her, before I
went.

I had not thus looked, and wished, and wondered
long, before I vaulted over the barrier, unable to resist
the temptation of taking one glance through the
window, just to see if she were more composed than
when we parted ; — and if I found her still in deep
distress, perhaps I might venture to attempt a word of
comfort — to utter one of the many things I should
have said before, instead of aggravating her sufferings
by my stupid impetuosity. 1 looked. Her chair was
vacant : so was the room. But at that moment some

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 90

one opened the outer door, and a voice — her voice —
said, —

" Come out — I want to see the moon, and breathe
the evening air : they will do me good — if anything
will."

Here, then, were she and Rachel coming to take a
walk in the garden. I wished myself safe back over
the wall. I stood, however, in the shadow of the tall
holly bush, which, standing between the window and
the porch, at present screened me from observation,
but did not prevent me from seeing two figures come
forth into the moonlight ; Mrs Graham followed by
another — not Rachel, but a young man, slender and
rather tall. Oh, heavens, how my temples throbbed !
Intense anxiety darkened my sight ; but I thought —
yes, and the voice confirmed it — it was Mr Lawrence.

" You should not let it worry you so much, Helen,"
said he ; "I will be more cautious in future ; and in
time "

1 did not hear the rest of the sentence ; for he
walked close beside her and spoke so gently that I
could not catch the words. Afy heart, wis tfplittinjr
with hatred ; but 1 listened intently for her reply. J
lieard it plainly enough.

" But I must leave this place, Frederic," she said
— " I never can be happy here, — nor anywhere else,
indeed," she added, with a mirthless laugh, — " but I
cannot rest here."

" But where could you find a better place ? " replied
he, "so secluded — so near me, if you think anything
of that."

" Yes,"' interrupted she, " it is all I could wish, if
they could only have left me alone."

" But wherever you go, Helen, there will be the
same sources of annoyance. I cannot consent to lose
you : I must go with you, or come to you ; and there
are meddling fools elsewhere, as well as here."

\\ hile thus conversing, they had sauntered slowly
pa.-t me, down the walk, and I heard no more of their
discourse ; but I saw him put his ^rm round her wai>t.

100 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

while she lovingly rested her hand on his shoulder ;—
and then, a tremulous darkness obscured my sight,
my heart sickened and my head burned like fire, I
half rushed, half staggered from the spot where horror
had kept me rooted, and leaped or tumbled over the
wall — 1 hardly know which— but I know that, after-
wards, like a passionate child, I dashed myself on the
ground and lay there in a paroxysm of anger and
despair — how long, I cannot undertake to say ; but it
must have been a considerable time ; for when, having
partially relieved myself by a torrent of tears, and
looked up at the moon, shining so calmly and carelessly
on, as little influenced by my misery as I was by its
peaceful radiance, and earnestly prayed for death or
forgetfulness, I had risen and journeyed homewards
— little regarding the way, but carried instinctively by
my feet to the door, I found it bolted against me, and
every one in bed except my mother, who hastened to
answer my impatient knocking, and received me with
a shower of questions and rebukes.

" Oh, Gilbert, how could you do so ? Where have
you been? Do come in and take your supper — I've
got it all ready, though you don't deserve it, for keeping
me in such a fright, after the strange manner you left

the house this evening. Mr Millward was quite

Bless the boy ! how ill he looks ! Oh, gracious ! what
is the matter?"

"Nothing, nothing — give me a candle."

"But won't you take some supper?"

"No, I want to go to bed," said I, taking a candle
and ligh ting it at the one she held in her hand.

" Oh, Gilbert, how you tremble ! " exclaimed my
anxious parent. " How white you look ! — Do tell me
what it is ? Has anything happened ? "

" It's nothing ! " cried I, ready to stamp with vexa-
tion because the candle would not light. Then, sup-
pressing my irritation, I added, "I've been walking too
fast, that's all. Good night," and marched off to bed,
regardless of the " Walking too fast ! where have you
been ? " that was called after me from below.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 101

My mother followed me to the very door of my room
with her questionings and advice concerning my health
and my conduct ; but I implored her to let me alone
till morning ; and she withdrew, and at length I had
the satisfaction to hear her close her own door. There
was no sleep for me, however, that night, as I thought ;
and instead of attempting to solicit it, I employed my-
self in rapidly pacing the chamber — having first removed
my boots lest my motlier should hear me. But the
boards creaked, and she was watchful. I had not
walked above a quarter of an hour before she was at
the door again.

" Gilbert, why are you not in bed — you said you
wanted to go ? "

"Confound it ! I'm going," said I.

" But why are you so long about it ? you must have
something on your mind —

" For heaven's sake, let me alone, and get to bed
yourself ! "

" Can it be that Mrs Graham that distresses you

80?" ^

" No, no, I tell you — its nothing ! "

" I wish to goodness it mayn't ! " murmured she,
with a sigh, as she returned to her own apartment,
while I threw myself on the bed, feeling most uuduti-
fully disaffected towards her for having deprived me of
what seemed the only shadow of a consolation that
remained, and chained me to that wretched couch of
thorns.

Never did I endure so long, so miserable a night as
that. And yet, it was not wholly sleepless : towards
morning my distracting thoughts began to lose all pre-
tensions to coherency, and shape themselves into con-
fused and feverish dreams, and, at length, there followed
an interval of unconscious slumber. But then the dawn
of bitter recollection that succeeded — the waking to
find life a blank, and worse than a blank — teeming with
torment and misery — not a mere barren wilderness,
but full of thorns and briars — to find myself deceived,
duped, hopeless, my affections trampled upon, my angel

102 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

not an angel, and my friend a fiend incarnate — it was
worse than if I had not slept at all.

It was a dull, gloomy morning, the weather had
changed like my prospects, and the rain was pattering
against the window. J rose, nevertheless, and went
out ; not to look after the farm, though that would
serve as my excuse, but to cool my brain, and regain,
if possible, a sufficient degree of composure to meet the
family at the morning meal without exciting incon-
venient remarks. If 1 got a wetting, that, in conj unction
with a pretended over exertion before breakfast, might
excuse my sudden loss of appetite ; and if a cold ensued,
the severer the better, it would help to account for the
sullen moods and moping melancholy likely to cloud
my brow for long enough.

CHAPTER XIII

" MY dear Gilbert ! I wish you would try to be a little
more amiable/' said my mother, one morning after
some display of unjustifiable ill-humour on my part.
" You say there is nothing the matter with you, and
nothing has happened to grieve you, and yet, I never
saw any one so altered as you within these last few
days : you haven't a good word for anybody — friends
and strangers, equals and inferiors — it's all the same.
I do wish you'd try to check it."

"Check what?"

" Why, your strange temper. You don't know how
it spoils you. I'm sure a finer disposition than yours,
by nature, could not be, if you'd let it have fair play ;
so you've no excuse that way."

While she thus remonstrated, I took up a book, and
laying it open on the table before me, pretended to be
deeply absorbed in its perusal ; for I was equally unable
to justify myself, and unwilling to acknowledge my
errors ; and I wished to have nothing to say on the
matter. But my excellent parent went on lecturing,
and then came to coaxing, and began to stroke my

THE TENANT OF VV'ILDFELL HALL 103

hair ; and I was getting to feel quite a good boy, but
my mischievous brother, who was idling about the room,
revived my corruption by suddenly calling out : —

" Don't touch him, mother ! he'll bite ! He's a very
tiger in human form. I've given him up for my part
— fairly disowned him — cast him off, root and branch.
It's as much as my life is worth to come within six
yards of him. The other day he nearly fractured my
skull for singing a pretty, inoffensive love song, on
purpose to amuse him."

" Oh, Gilbert ! how could you ? " exclaimed my
mother.

" J told you to hold your noise first, you know,
Fergus," said I.

" Yes, but when I assured you it was no trouble,
and went on with the next verse, thinking you might
like it better, you clutched me by the shoulder and
dashed me away, right against the wall there, with
such force, that I thought I had bitten my tongue in
two, and expected to see the place plastered with my
brains ; and when I put my hand to my head and
found my skull not broken, 1 thought it was a miracle
and no mistake. But poor fellow ! " added he, with u
sentimental sigh — " his heart's broken — that's the
truth of it — and his head's "

" Will you be silent NOW?" cried I, starting up, and
eyeing the fellow so fiercely that my mother, thinking
I meant to inflict some grievous bodily ii.jury, laid her
hand on my arm, and besought me to let him alone,
and he walked leisurely out, with his hands in his
pockets, singint: provokingly — " Shall I, because a
woman's fair," &c.

" I'm not going to defile my fingers with him," said
I, in answer to the maternal intercession. " I wouldn't
touch him with the toni_rs."

1 now recollected lhat I had busine-s with Robert
Wilson, concerning the purchase of a certain field
adjoining my farm — a busine-s I had been putting off
from day to day ; for I had no interest m anything
now; and besides, I was misanthropically inclined,

104 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

and, moreover, had a particular objection to meeting
Jane Wilson or her mother ; for though I had too
good reason, now, to credit their reports concerning
Mrs Graham, I did not like them a bit the better for
it — or Eliza Millward either — and the thought of meet-
ing them was the more repugnant to me, that I could
not, now, defy their seeming calumnies and triumph
in my own convictions as before. But to-flay, I deter-
mined to make an effort to return to my duty. Though
I found no pleasure in it, it would be less irksome than
idleness — at all events it would be more profitable. If
life promised no enjoyment within my vocation, at least
it offered no allurements out of it ; and henceforth, I
would put my shoulder to the wheel and toil away,
like any poor drudge of a cart-horse that was fairly
broken in to its labour, and plod through life, not
wholly useless if not agreeable, and uncomplaining if
not contented with my lot.

Thus resolving, with a kind of sullen resignation, if
such a term may be allowed, 1 wended my way to
Ryecote Farm, scarcely expecting to find its owner
within at this time of day, but hoping to learn in what
part of the premises he was most likely to be found.

Absent he was, but expected home in a few minutes ;
and I was desired to step into the parlour and wait.
Mrs Wilson was busy in the kitchen, but the room
was not empty ; and I scarcely checked an involuntary
recoil as I entered it ; for there sat Miss Wilson
chattering with Eliza Millward. However, I deter-
mined to be cool and civil. Eliza seemed to have
made the same resolution on her part. We had not
met since the evening of the tea party ; but there was
no visible emotion eitlier of pleasure or pain, no
attempt at pathos, no display of injured pride : she
was cool in temper, civil in demeanour. There was
even an ease and cheerfulness about her air and
manner that I made no pretension to ; but there was a
depth of malice in her too expressive eye, that plainly
told me I was not forgiven ; for, though she no longer
hoped to win me to herself, she still hated her rival,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 105

and evidently delighted to wreak her spite on me.
Ou the other hand, Miss Wilson was as affable and
courteous as heart could wish, and though I was in no
very conversable humour myself, the two ladies be-
tween them managed to keep up a pretty continuous
tire of small talk. But Eliza took advantage of the
first convenient pause to ask if I had lately seen Mrs
Graham, in a tone of merely casual inquiry, but with
a sidelong glance — intended to be playfully mischievous
— really, brimful and running over with malice.

" Not lately," I replied, in a careless tone, but
sternly repelling her odious glances with my eyes ;
for I was vexed to feel the colour mounting to my
forehead, despite my strenuous efforts to appear un-
moved.

" What ! are you beginning to tire already ? 1
thought so noble a creature would have power to
attach you for a year at least ? "

" I would rather not speak of her now."

" Ah ! then you are convinced, at last, of your mis-
take— you have at length discovered that your divinity
is not quite the immaculate "

"I desired you not to speak of her, Miss Eliza."

" Oh, I beg your pardon ! I perceive Cupid's arrows
have been too sharp for you : the wounds, being more
than skin deep, are not yet healed, and bleed afresh at
every mention of the loved one's name."

" Say, rather,'' interposed Miss Wilson, " that Mr
Markham feels that name is unworthy to be men-
tioned in the presence of right-minded females. I
wonder, Eliza, you should think of referring to that
unfortunate person — you might know the mention
of her would be anything but agreeable to any one
here present."

How could this be borne? I rose and was about to
clap my hat upon my head and burst away, in wrathful
indignation, from the house ; but recollecting — just in
time to save my dignity — the folly of such a proceed-
ing, and how it would only give my fair tormentors a
merry laugh at my expense, for the sake of one 1

106 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

acknowledged in my own heart to be unworthy of the
slightest sacrifice— though the ghost of my former
reverence and love so hung about me still, that I could
not bear to hear her name aspersed by others — I
merely walked to the window, and having spent a few
seconds in vengibly biting my lips, and sternly repress-
ing the passionate heavings of my chest, I observed to
Miss Wilson, that I could see nothing of her brother,
and added that, as my time was precious, it would
perhaps be better to call again to-morrow, at some
time when I should be sure to find him at home.

" Oh, no ! " said she, " if you wait a minute, he will

be sure to come ; for he has business at L " (that

was our market town) " and will require a little
refreshment before he goes."

I submitted accordingly, with the best grace I could ;
and, happily, I had not long to wait. Mr Wilson
soon arrived, and, indisposed for business as I was at
that moment, and little as I cared for the field or its
owner, I forced my attention to the matter in hand,
with very creditable determination, and quickly con-
cluded the bargain — perhaps more to the thrifty
farmer's satisfaction than he cared to acknowledge.
Then, leaving him to the discussion of his substantial
" refreshment," I gladly quitted the house, and went
to look after my reapers.

Leaving them busy at work on the side of the valley,
I ascended the hill, intending to visit a corn-field in
the more elevated regions, and see when it would be
ripe for the sickle. But I did not visit it that day ;
for, as I approached, I beheld at no great distance,
Mrs Graham and her son coming down in the opposite
direction. They saw me ; and Arthur already was
running to meet me ; but I immediately turned back
and walked steadily homeward ; for I had fully deter-
mined never to encounter his mother again ; and
regardless of the shrill voice in my ear, calling upon
me to " wait a moment/' I pursued the even tenor
of my way ; and he soon relinquished the pursuit
as hopeless, or was called away by his mother. At all

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 107

events, when I looked back, five minutes after, not a
trace of either was to he seen.

This incident agitated and disturbed me most un-
accountably— unless you would account for it by saying
that Cupid's arrows not only had been too sharp for
me, but they were barbed and deeply rooted, and I had
not yet been able to wrench them from my heart. How-
ever that be, I was rendered doubly miserable for the
remainder of the day.

CHAPTER XIV

NEXT morning, I bethought me, I, too, had business

at L ; so I mounted my horse and set forth on the

expedition, soon after breakfast. It was a dull, drizzly
day ; but that was no matter : it was all the more
suitable to my frame of mind. It was likely to be a
lonely journey ; for it was no market-day, and the
road I traversed was little frequented at any other
time ; but that suited me all the better too.

As I trotted along, however, chewing the cud of—
bitter fancies, I heard another horse at no great dis-
tance behind me ; but I never conjectured who the
rider might be — or troubled my head about him, till,
on slackening my pace to ascend a gentle acclivity —
or rather suffering my horse to slacken his pace into a
lazy walk ; for, lost in my own reflections, I was
letting it jog on as leisurely as it thought proper — I
lost ground and my fellow traveller overtook me. He
accosted me by name ; for it was no stranger — it was
Mr Lawrence : Instinctively the fingers of my whip
hand tingled, and grasped their charge with convulsive
energy ; but I restrained the impulse, and answering
his salutation with a nod, attempted to push on ; hut
he pushed on beside me and began to talk about the
weather and the crops. I gave the briefest possible
answers to his queries and observations, and fell
back. He fell back, too, and asked if my horse was

108 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

lame. I replied with a look — at which he placidly
smiled.

I was as much astonished as exasperated at this
singular pertinacity and imperturbable assurance on
his part. I had thought the circumstances of our last
meeting would have left such an impression on his
mind as to render him cold and distant ever after :
instead of that, he appeared not only to have forgotten
all former offences, but to be impenetrable to all
present incivilities. Formerly, the slightest hint, or
mere fancied coldness in tone or glance, had sufficed
to repulse him : now, positive rudeness could not
drive him away. Had he heard of my disappoint-
ment ; and was he come to witness the result, and
triumph in my despair ? I grasped my whip with
more determined energy than before — but still forbore
to raise it, and rode on in silence, waiting for some
more tangible cause of offence, before I opened the
floodgates of my soul and poured out the dammed-up
fury that was foaming and swelling within.

" Markham," said he, in his usual quiet tone, " why
do you quarrel with your friends, because you have
been disappointed in one quarter ? You have found
your hopes defeated ; but how am I to blame for it ?
I warned you beforehand, you know, but you would
not "

He said no more ; for, impelled by some fiend at my
elbow, I had seized my whip by the small end, and —
swift and sudden as a flash of lightning— brought the
other down upon his head. It was not without a feel-
ing of savage satisfaction that I beheld the instant,
deadly pallor that overspread his face, and the few red
drops that trickled down his forehead, while he reeled
a moment in his saddle, and then fell backward to the
ground. The pony, surprised to be so strangely re-
lieved ot its burden, started and capered, and kicked a
little, and then made use of its freedom to go and crop
the grass of the hedge bank ; while its master lay as
still and silent as a corpse. Had I killed him ?— an
icy hand seemed to grasp my heart and check its

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 109

pulsation, as I bent over him, gazing with breathless
intensity upon the ghastly, upturned face. But no ;
he moved his eyelids and uttered a slight groan. I
breathed again — he was only stunned by the fall. It
served him right — it would teach him better manners
in future. Should I help him to his horse ? No. For
any other combination of offences I would ; but his
were too unpardonable. He might mount it himself,
if he liked — in a while : already he was beginning to
stir and look about him — and there it was for him,
quietly browsing on the road-side.

So with a muttered execration I left the fellow to
hia fate, and clapping spurs to my own horse, galloped
away, excited by a combination of feelings it would not
be easy to analyze ; and perhaps, if I did so, the result
would not be very creditable to my disposition ; for I
am not sure that a species of exultation in what I had
done was not one principal concomitant.

Shortly, however, the effervescence began to abate,
and not many minutes elapsed before I had turned and
gone back to look after the fate of my victim. It was
no generous impulse — no kind relentiugs that led me
to this — nor even the fear of what might be the con-
sequences to myself, if I finished my assault upon the
squire by leaving him thus neglected, and exposed to
further injury ; it was, simply, the voice of conscience ;
and I took great credit to myself for attending so
promptly to its dictates — and judging the merit of the
deed by the sacrifice it cost, I was not far wrong.

Mr Lawrence and his pony had both altered their
positions in some degree. The pony had wandered
eight or ten yards further away ; and he had managed,
somehow, to remove himself from the middle of the
road : I found him seated in a recumbent position on
the bank, — looking very white and sickly still, and
holding his cambric handkerchief (now more red than
white) to his head. It must have been a powerful
blow ; but half the credit — or the blame of it (which
you please) must be attributed to the whip, which was
garnished with a massive horse's head of plated metal.

110 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

The grass, being sodden with rain, afforded the young
gentleman a rather inhospitable couch ; his clothes
were considerably bemired ; and his hat was rolling in
the mud, on the other side of the road. But his
thoughts seemed chiefly bent upon his pony, on which
he was wistfully gazing — half in helpless anxiety, and
half in hopeless abandonment to his fate.

I dismounted, however, and having fastened my
own animal to the nearest tree, first picked up his hat,
intending to clap it on his head ; but either he con-
sidered his head unfit for a hat, or the hat, in its
present condition, unfit for his head ; for shrinking
away the one, he took the other from my hand, and
scornfully cast it aside.

" It's good enough for you," I muttered.

My next good office was to catch his pony and bring
it to him, which was soon accomplished ; for the beast
was quiet enough in the main, and only winced and
flirted a trifle till I got hold of the bridle — but then, 1
must see him in the saddle.

" Here, you fellow — scoundrel — dog — give me your
hand, and I'll help you to mount."

No ; he turned from me in disgust. I attempted to
take him by the arm. He shrank away as if there had
been contamination in my touch.

" What, you won't. Well ! you may sit there till
doomsday, for what I care. But I suppose you don't
want to lose all the blood in your body — I'll just con-
descend to bind that up for you."

" Let me alone, if you please."

"Humph ! with all my heart. You may go to the
d 1, if you choose — and say I sent you."

But before I abandoned him to his fate, I flung his
pony's bridle over a stake in the hedge, and threw him
my handkerchief, as his own was now saturated with
blood. He took it and cast it back to me, in abhor-
rence and contempt, with all the strength he could
muster. It wanted but this to fill the measure of his
offences. With execrations not loud but deep, I left
him to live or die as he could, well satisfied that I had

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 111

done my duty in attempting to save him — but forgetting
how I had erred in bringing him into such a condition,
and how insultingly my after services had been offered
— and sullenly prepared to meet the consequences if he
should choose to say I had attempted to murder him —
which I thought not unlikely, as it seemed probable he
was actuated by such spiteful motives in so persever-
ingly refusing my assistance.

Having remounted my horse, I just looked back to
see how he was getting on, before I rode away. He
had risen from the ground, and grasping his pony's
mane, was attempting to resume his seat in the saddle ;
but scarcely had he put his foot in the stirrup, when a
sickness or dizziness seemed to overpower him : he
leant forward a moment, with his head drooped on the
animal's back, and then made one more effort, which
proving ineffectual, he sank back on the bank, where I
left him, reposing his head on the oozy turf, and, to
all appearance, as calmly reclining as if he had been
taking his rest on his sofa at home.

I ought to have helped him in spite of himself — to
have bound up the wound he was unable to stanch, and
insisted upon getting him on his horse and seeing him
safe home ; but, besides my bitter indignation against
himself, there was the question what to say to his
servants — and what to my own family. Either 1
should have to acknowledge the deed, which would
set me down as a madman, unless I acknowledged the
motive too — and that seemed impossible — or I must
get up a lie, which seemed equally out of the question
— especially as Mr Lawrence would probably reveal
the whole truth, and thereby bring me to tenfold
disgrace — unless I were villain enough, presuming on
the absence of witnesses, to persist in my own version
of the case, and make him out a still greater scoundrel
than he was. No ; he had only received a cut above
the temple, and perhaps, a few bruises from the fall,
or the hoofs of his own pony : that could not kill him
if he lay there half the day ; and, if he could not help
himself, surely some one would be coming by : it would

112 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

be impossible that a whole day should pass and no one
traverse the road but ourselves. As for what he might
choose to say hereafter, I would take my chance about
it : if he told lies, I would contradict him ; if he told
the truth, 1 would bear it as best I could. I was not
obliged to enter into explanations, further than I
thought proper. Perhaps, he might choose to be silent
on the subject, for fear of raising inquiries as to the
cause of the quarrel, and drawing the public attention
to his connection with Mrs Graham, which, whether
for her sake or his own, he seemed so very desirous to
conceal.

Thus reasoning, I trotted away to the town, where
I duly transacted my business, and performed various
little commissions for my mother and Rose, with very
laudable exactitude, considering the different circum-
stances of the case. In returning home, I was troubled
with sundry misgivings about the unfortunate Law-
rence. The question, what if I should find him lying,
still on the damp earth, fairly dying of cold and ex-
haustion— or already stark and chill? thrust itself
most unpleasantly upon my mind, and the appalling
possibility pictured itself with painful vividness to my
imagination as I approached the spot where I had left
him. But no ; thank Heaven, both man and horse
were gone, and nothing was left to witness against me
but two objects— unpleasant enough in themselves, to
be sure, and presenting a very ugly, not to say mur-
derous, appearance — in one place, the hat saturated
with rain and coated with mud, indented and broken
above the brim by that villainous whip-handle ; in
another, the crimson handkerchief, soaking in a deeply
tinctured pool of water — for much rain had fallen in
the interim.

Bad news fly fast : it was hardly four o'clock when I
got home, but my mother gravely accosted me with —

" Oh, Gilbert ! — Such an accident ! Rose has been
shopping in the village, and she's heard that Mr
Lawrence has been thrown from his horse and brought
home dying ! "

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 113

This shocked me a trifle, as you may suppose ; but
I was comforted to hear that he had frightfully frac-
tured his skull and broken a leg ; for, assured of the
falsehood of this, I trusted the rest of the story was
equally exaggerated ; and when I heard my mother
and sister so feelingly deploring his condition, I had
considerable difficulty in preventing myself from telling
them the real extent of the injuries, as far as I knew
them.

" You must go and see him to-morrow," said my
mother.

" Or to-day," suggested Rose : " there's plenty of
time ; and you can have the pony, as your horse is
tired. Won't you, Gilbert — as soon as you've had
something to eat ? "

" No, no — How can we tell that it isn't all a false
report ? It's highly im —

" Oh, I'm sure it isn't ; for the village is all alive
about it ; and I saw two people that had seen others
that had seen the man that found him. That sounds
far fetched ; but it isn't so, when you think of it."

" Well, but Lawrence is a good rider ; it is not
likely he would fall from his horse at all ; and if he
did, it is highly improbable he would break his bones in
that way. It must be a gross exaggeration at least."

"No, but the horse kicked him — or something."

" What, his quiet little pony ? "

" How do you know it was that ? "

" He seldom rides any other."

" At any rate," said my mother, " you will call to-
morrow. Whether it be true or false, exaggerated or
otherwise, we shall like to know how he is."

" Fergus may go."

" Why not you ? "

" He has more time : I am busy just now."

" Oh ! but Gilbert, how can you be so composed
about it? You won't mind business, for an hour or
two, in a case of this sort — when your friend is at the
point of death ! "

" He is not, I tell you ! "

114 THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL

" For anything you know, he may be : you can't tell
till you have seen him. At all events, he must have
met with some terrible accident, and you ought to see
him : he'll take it very unkind if you don't."

" Confound it ! I can't. He and I have not been
on good terms, of late."

" O, my dear boy ! Surely, surely you are not so
unforgiving as to carry your little diiferences to such
a length as "

"Little differences, indeed !" I muttered.

" Well, but only remember the occasion ! Think
how "

" Well, well, don't bother me now — I'll see about
it," I replied.

And my seeing about it, was to send Fergus next
morning, with my mother's compliments, to make the
requisite inquiries ; for, of course, my going was out
of the question — or sending a message either. He
brought back intelligence that the young squire was
laid up with the complicated evils of a broken head
and certain contusions (occasioned by a fall — of which
he did not trouble himself to relate the particulars —
and the subsequent misconduct of his horse), and a
severe cold, the consequence of lying on the wet
ground in the rain ; but there were no broken bones,
and no immediate prospects of dissolution.

It was evident then, that, for Mrs Graham's sake, it
was not his intention to criminate me.

CHAPTER XV

THAT day was rainy like its predecessor ; but towards
evening it began to clear up a little, and the next
morning was fair and promising. I was out on the
hill with the reapers. A light wind swept over the
corn ; and all nature laughed in the sunshine. The
lark was rejoicing among the silvery floating clouds.
The late rain had so sweetly freshened and cleared the

THE TENANT OF WILD/WELL HALL 115

air, and washed the sky, and left such glittering gems
on branch and blade, that not even the farmers could
have the heart to blame it. Q But no ray of sunshine
could reach my heart, no breeze could freshen it ;
nothing could nil the void my faith, and hope, and joy
in Helen Graham had left, or drive away the keen re-
grets, and bitter dregs of lingering love that still
oppressed it. "H

While I stood^ with folded arms, abstractedly gazing
on the undulating swell of the corn not yet disturbed
by the reapers, something gently pulled my skirts,
and a small voice, no longer welcome to my ears,
aroused me with the startling words —

"Mr Markham, mamma wants you."

" Wants me, Arthur ? "

"Yes. \Vhydo you look so queer ?" said he, half
laughing, half frightened at the unexpected aspect of
my face in suddenly turning towards him — " and why
have you kept so long away ? — Come ! — Won't you
come ? "

" I'm busy just now," I replied, scarce knowing what
to answer.

He looked up in childish bewilderment ; but before
I could speak again, the lady herself was at my side.

" Gilbert, I must speak with you ! " said she, in a
tone of suppressed vehemence.

I looked at her pale cheek and glittering eye, but
answered nothing.

"Only for a moment," pleaded she. "Just step
aside into this other field," she glanced at the reapers,
some of whom were directing looks of impertinent
curiosity towards her — "I won't keep you a minute."

I accompanied her through the gap.

" Arthur, darling, run and gather those blue-bells,"
said she, pointing to some that were gleaming, at some
distance, under the hedge along which we walked.
The child hesitated, as if unwilling to quit my side.
"Go, love!" repeated she more urgently, and in a
tone, which, though not unkind, demanded prompt
obedience, and obtained it.

116 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" Well; Mrs Graham?" said I, calmly and coldly ;
for, though I saw she was miserable, and pitied her, I
felt glad to have it in my power to torment her.

She fixed her eyes upon me with a look that pierced
me to the heart ; and yet, it made me smile.

" I don't ask the reason of this change, Gilbert/'
said she, with bitter calmness. " I know it too well ;
but though I could see myself suspected and con-
demned by every one else, and bear it with calmness,
1 cannot endure it from you. — Why did you not come
to hear my explanation on the day I appointed to give
it?"

" Because I happened, in the interim, to learn all
you would have told me — and a trifle more, I imagine."

" Impossible, for I would have told you all ! " cried
she, passionately — ' ' but I won't now, for I see you are
not worthy of it ! "

And her pale lips quivered with agitation.

" Why not, may 1 ask ? "

She repelled my mocking smile with a glance of
scornful indignation.

" Because you never understood me, or you would
not soon have listened to my traducers — my confidence
would be misplaced in you — you are not the man I
thought you — Go ! I won't care what you think of
me.''

She turned away, and I went ; for I thought that
would torment her as much as anything ; and I
believe I was right ; for, looking back a minute after,
I saw her turn half round, as if hoping or expecting to
find me still beside her ; and then she stood still, and
cast one look behind. It was a look less expressive of
anger than of bitter anguish and despair ; but I
immediately assumed an aspect of indifference, and
affected to be gazing carelessly round me, and I
suppose she went on ; for after lingering awhile to see
if she would come back or call, I ventured one more
glance, and saw her a good way off, moving rapidly up
the field with little Arthur running by her side and
apparently talking as he went ; but she kept her face

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 117

averted from him, as if to hide some uncontrollable
emotion. And I returned to my business.

But I soon began to regret my precipitancy in
leaving her so soon. It was evident she loved me —
probably, she was tired of Mr Lawrence, and wished
to exchange him for me ; and if I had loved and
reverenced her less to begin with, the preference might
have gratified and amused me ; but now, the contrast
between her outward seeming and her inward mind,
as I supposed, — between my former and my present
opinion of her, was so harrowing — so distressing to
my feelings, that it swallowed up every lighter
consideration.

But still, I was curious to know what sort of an
explanation she would have given me, — or would give
now, if J pressed her for it — how much she would
confess, and how she would endeavour to excuse
herself. I longed to know what to despise, and what
to admire in her ; how much to pity, and how much to
hate ; — and, what was more, I would know. I would
see her once more, and fairly satisfy myself in what
light to regard her, before we parted. Lost to me she
was, for ever, of course ; but still, I could not bear to
think that we had parted, for the last time, with so
much unkimlness and misery on both sides. That last
look of hers had sunk into my heart ; I could not
forget it. But what a fool I was ! Had she not
deceived me, injured me — blighted my happiness for
life ? " Well I'll see her, however," was my conclud-
ing resolve, — " but not to-day : to-day and to-night,
she may think upon her sins, and be as miserable as
she will : to-morrow, I will see her once again, and
know something more about her. The interview may
be serviceable to her, or it may not. At any rate, it
will give a breath of excitement to the life she has
doomed to stagnation, and may calm with certainty
some agitating thoughts."

1 did go on the morrow ; but not till towards
evening, after the business of the day was concluded,
that is, between six and seven ; and tlie westering sun

118 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

was gleaming redly on the old hall, and flaming in the
latticed windows, as I reached it, imparting to the
place a cheerfulness not its own. I need not dilate
upon the feelings with which I approached the shrine
of my former divinity — that spot teeming with a
thousand delightful recollections and glorious dreams
— all darkened now, by one disastrous truth.

Rachel admitted me into the parlour, and went to
call her mistress, for she was not there ; but there was
her desk left open on the little round table beside the
high-backed chair, with a book laid upon it. Her
limited but choice collection of books was almost as
familiar to me as my own ; but this volume I had not
seen before. I took it up. It was Sir Humphry
Davy's " Last Days of a Philosopher,'* and on the
first leaf was written, — <c Frederick Lawrence." I
closed the book, but kept it in my hand, and stood
facing the door, with my back to the fire-place, calmly
waiting her arrival ; for 1 did not doubt she would
come. And soon I heard her step in the hall. My
heart was beginning to throb, but I checked it with an
internal rebuke, and maintained my composure — out-
wardly, at least. She entered, calm, pale, collected.

"To what am I indebted for this favour, Mr
Markham ? " said she, with such severe but quiet
dignity as almost disconcerted me ; but I answered
with a smile, and impudently enough : —

" Well, I am come to hear your explanation."

"I told you J would not give it," said she. "I
said you were unworthy of my confidence."

" Oh, very well," replied I, moving to the door.

"Stay a moment/' said she. "This is the last
time I shall see you : don't go just yet."

I remained, awaiting her further commands.

"Tell me," resumed she, "on what grounds you
believe these things against me ; who told you ; and
what did they say ? "

I paused a moment. She met my eye as unflinch-
ingly as if her bosom had been steeled with conscious
innocence. She was resolved to know the worst, and

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 119

determined to dare it too. " I can crush that bold
spirit," thought I. But while I secretly exulted in
my power, I felt disposed to dally with my victim
like a cat. Showing her the book that I still held in
my hand, and pointing to the name on the fly leaf,
but fixing my eye upon her face, I asked, —

" Do you know that gentleman ? "

"Of course I do," replied she ; and a sudden flush
suffused her features — whether of shame or anger I
could not tell : it rather resembled the latter.
"What next, sir?"

" How long is it since you saw him ? "

" Who gave you the right to catechise me, on this
or any other subject ? "

" Oh, no one ! — it's quite at your option whether to
answer or not. And now, let me ask — have you heard
what has lately befallen this friend of yours ? — because,
if you have not "

" I will not be insulted, Mr Markham!" cried
she, almost infuriated at my manner. " So you had
better leave the house at once, if you came only for
that."

" I did not come to insult you : I came to hear your
explanation."

" And I tell you I won't give it ! " retorted she,
pacing the room in a state of strong excitement, with
her hands clasped tightly together, breathing short,
and flashing fires of indignation from her eyes. " I
will not condescend to explain myself to one that can
make a jest of such horrible suspicions, and be so
easily led to entertain them."

" I do not make a jest of them, Mrs Graham,"
returned I, dropping at once my tone of taunting
sarcasm. " I heartily wish I could find them a jesting
matter ! And as to being easily led to suspect, God
only knows what a blind, incredulous fool I have
hitherto been, perseveriugly shutting my eyes and
stopping my ears against everything that threatened
to shake my confidence in you, till proof itself con-
founded my infatuation ! "

120 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" What proof, sir?"

' ' Well, I'll tell you. You remember that evening
when I was here last ? "

"I do."

"Even then, you dropped some hints that might
have opened the eyes of a wiser man ; but they had
no such effect upon me: I went on trusting and
believing, hoping against hope, and adoring where I
could not comprehend. It so happened, however, that
after I left you, I turned back — drawn by pure depth
of sympathy, and ardour of affection — not daring to
intrude my presence openly upon you, but unable to
resist the temptation of catching one glimpse through
the window, just to see how you were ; for I had left
you apparently in great affliction, and 1 partly blamed
my own want of forbearance and discretion as the
cause of it. If I did wrong, love alone was my
incentive, and the punishment was severe enough ;
for it was just as I had reached that tree, that you
came out into the garden with your friend. Not
choosing to show myself, under the circumstances, I
stood still, in the shadow, till you had both passed by."

" And how much of our conversation did you hear ? "

" I heard quite enough, Helen. And it was well
for me that I did hear it ; for nothing less could have
cured my infatuation. I always said and thought,
that I would never believe a word against you, unless
I heard it from your own lips. All the hints 'and
affirmations of others I treated as malignant, baseless
slanders ; your own self accusations I believed to be
over-strained ; and all that seemed unaccountable in
your position, I trusted that you could account for if
you chose."

Mrs Graham had discontinued her walk. She leant
against one end of the chimney-piece, opposite that
near which I was standing, with her chin resting on
her closed hand, her eyes — no longer burning with
auger, but gleaming with restless excitement — some-
times glancing at me while I spoke, then coursing the
opposite wall, or fixed upon the carpet.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 121

" You should have come to me, after all," said she,
"and heard what I had to say in my own justification.
It was ungenerous and wrong to withdraw yourself so
secretly and suddenly, immediately after such ardent
protestations of attachment without ever assigning a
reason for the change. You should have told me all
— no matter how bitterly. It would have been better
than this silence."

" To what end should I have done so ? You could
not have enlightened me further, on the subject which
alone concerned me ; nor could you have made me
discredit the evidence of my senses. I desired our
intimacy to be discontinued at once, as you yourself
had acknowledged would probably be the case if 1
knew all ; but I did not wish to upbraid you, — though
(as you also acknowledged) you had deeply wronged
me. Yes ; you have done me an injury you can never
repair— or any other either — you have blighted the
freshness and promise of youth, and made my life a
wilderness ! I might live a hundred years, but 1
could never recover from the effects of this withering

blow — and never forget it ! Hereafter You smile,

Mrs Graham," said 1, suddenly stopping short, checked
in my passionate declamation by unutterable feelings
to behold her actually smiling at the picture of the
ruin she had wrought.

" Did I ? " replied she, looking seriously up ; "I
was not aware of it. If I did, it was not for pleasure
at the thoughts of the harm I had done you. Heaven
knows I have had torment enough at the bare po--i-
bility of that ; — it was for joy to find that you had
some depth of soul and feeling after all, and to hope
that I had not been utterly mistaken in your worth.
But smiles and tears are so alike with me ; they are
neither of them confined to any particular feelings : I
often cry when I am happy, and smile when I am sail."

She looked at me again, and seemed to expect a
reply ; but I continued silent.

" Would you be very glad," resumed she, " to find
that you were mistaken in your conclusions?"

122 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

"How can you ask it, Helen ?"

"1 don't say I can clear myself altogether," said
she, speaking low and fast, while her heart beat visibly
and her bosom heaved with excitement, — " but would
you be glad to discover I was better than you think
me ? "

" Anything, that could, in the least degree, tend to
restore my former opinion of you, to excuse the regard
I still feel for you, and alleviate the pangs of unutter-
able regret that accompany it, would be only too gladly
— too eagerly received ! "

Her cheeks burned and her whole frame trembled,
now, with excess of agitation. She did not speak, but
flew to her desk, and snatching thence what seemed a
thick album or manuscript volume, hastily tore away
a few leaves from the end, and thrust the rest into my
hand saying, " You needn't read it all ; but take it
home with you," and hurried from the room. But
when I had left the house, and was proceeding down
the walk, she opened the window and called me back.
It was only to say, —

' ' Bring it back when you have read it ; and don't
breathe a word of what it tells you to any living being.
I trust to your honour."

Before 1 could answer, she had closed the casement
and turned away. I saw her cast herself back in the
old oak chair, and cover her face with her hands. Her
feelings had been wrought to a pitch that rendered it
necessary to seek relief in tears.

Panting with eagerness, and struggling to suppress
my hopes, 1 hurried home, and rushed up stairs to my
room, having first provided myself with a candle,
though it was scarcely twilight yet — then, shut and
bolted the door, determined to tolerate no interrup-
tion ; and sitting down before the table, opened out
my prize and delivered myself up to its perusal — first,
hastily turning over the leaves and snatching a sentence
here and there, and then, setting myself steadily to
read it through.

I have it now befqre me ; and though you could not,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 123

of course, peruse it with half the interest that I did, I
kuow you would not be satisfied with an abbreviation
of its contents, and you shall have the whole, save,
perhaps, a few passages here and there of merely
temporal interest to the writer, or such as would serve
to encumber the story rather than elucidate it. It
begins somewhat abruptly, thus — but we will reserve
its commencemeut for another chapter, and call it, —

CHAPTER XVI

JUNE 1st, 1821. — We have just returned to Staningley
— that is, we returned some days ago, and I am not
yet settled, and feel as if I never should be. We left
town sooner than was intended, in consequence of my
uncle's indisposition — I wonder what would have been
the result if we had stayed the full time. I am quite
ashamed of my new-sprung distaste for country life.
All my former occupations seem so tedious and dull,
my former amusements so insipid and unprofitable. I
cannot enjoy my music, because there is no one to
hear it. I cannot enjoy my walks, because there is no
one to meet. I cannot enjoy my books, because they
have not power to arrest my attention — my head is so
haunted with the recollections of the last few weeks,
that I cannot attend to them. My drawing suits me
best, for I can draw and think at the same time ; and
if my productions cannot now be seen by any one but
myself and those who do not care about them, they,
possibly, may be, hereafter. But then, there is one
face I am always trying to paint or to sketch, and
always without success ; and that vexes me. As for
the owner of that face, I cannot get him out of my
mind — and, indeed, I never try. I wonder whether
he ever thinks of me ; and I wonder whether I shall
ever see him again. And then might follow a train of
other wonderments — questions for time and fate to
answer — concluding with : — .supposing all the rest be
an>\vered in the affirmative, I wonder whether I shall

124 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

ever repeiit it — as my aunt would tell me I should, if
she knew what I was thinking about. How distinctly
I remember our conversation that evening before our
departure for town, when we were sitting together
over the fire, my uncle having gone to bed with a
slight attack of the gout.

"Helen/' said she, after a thoughtful silence, "do
you ever think about marriage?"

"Yes, aunt, often. "

"And do you ever contemplate the possibility of
being married yourself, or engaged, before the season
is over ? "

" Sometimes ; but I don't think it at all likely that
I ever shall."

"Why so?"

" Because, I imagine there must be only a very, very
few men in the world, that I should like to marry ; and
of those few, it is ten to one I may never be acquainted
with one ; or if I should, it is twenty to one, he may
not happen to be single, or to take a fancy to me."

" That is no argument at all. It may be very true
— and I hope is true, that there are very few men whom
you would choose to marry, of yourself. It is not,
indeed, to be supposed, that you would wish to marry
any one, till you were asked : a girl's affections should
never be won unsought. But when they are sought —
when the citadel of the heart is fairly besieged — it is
apt to surrender sooner than the owner is aware of,
and often against her better judgment, and in opposi-
tion to all her preconceived ideas of what she could
have loved, unless she be extremely careful and discreet.
Now, I want to warn you, Helen, of these things, and
to exhort you to be watchful and circumspect from the
very commencement of your career, and not to suffer
your heart to be stolen from you by the first foolish or
unprincipled person that covets the possession of it. —
You know, my dear, you are only just eighteen ; there
is plenty of time before you, and neither your uncle
nor I are in any hurry to get you off our hands, and J
may venture to say, there will be no lack of suitors ;

THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL 126

for you can boast a good family, a pretty considerable
fortune and expectations, and, I may as well tell you
likewise — for, if I don't, others will — that you have a
fair share of beauty, besides — and I hope you may never
have cause to regret it ! "

"I hope not, aunt ; but why should you fear it?''
" Because, my dear, beauty is that quality which,
next to money, is generally the most attractive to the
worst kinds of men ; and, therefore, it is likely to
entail a great deal of trouble on the possessor."
" Have you been troubled in that way, -aunt ? "
" No, Helen," said she, with reproachful gravity,
" but I know many that have ; and some, through
carelessness, have been the wretched victims of deceit ;
and some, through weakness, have fallen into snares
and temptations, terrible to relate."

" Well, I shall be neither careless nor weak."
" Remember Peter, Helen ! Don't boast, but watch.
Keep a guard over your eyes and ears as the inlets of
your heart, and over your lips as the outlet, lest they
betray you in a moment of unwariness. Receive,
coldly and dispassionately, every attention, till you
have ascertained and duly considered the worth of the
aspirant ; and let your affections be consequent upon
approbation alone. First study ; then approve ; then
love. Let your eyes be blind to all external attrac-
tions, your ears deaf to all the fascinations of flattery
and light discourse. — These are nothing — and worse
than nothing — snares and wiles of the tempter, to lure
the thoughtless to their own destruction. Principle is
the first tbing^after all ; and nax\ tn that^ good sense.
respectability^ and moderafr» neAlbh*. If ?0tl Should
marty "the handsomest, and most accomplished and
superficially agreeable man in the world, you little
know the misery that would overwhelm you, if, after
all, you should find him to be a worthless reprobate,
or even an impracticable fool."

" But what are all the poor fools and reprobates to
do, aunt? If everybody followed your advice, the
world would soon come to an end."

126 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" Never fear, my dear ! the male fools and repro-
bates will never want for partners, while there are so
many of the other sex to match them ; but do you
follow my advice. And this is no subject for jesting,
Helen — I am sorry to see you treat the matter in that
light way. Believe me, matrimony is a serious thing."
And she spoke it so seriously, that one might have
fancied she had known it to her cost ; but I asked no
more impertinent questions, and merely answered, —

' ' I know it is ; and I know there is truth and sense
in what you say ; but you need not fear me, for I not
only should think it wrong to marry a man that was
deficient in sense or in principle, but I should never be
tempted to do it ; for I could not like him, if he were
ever so handsome, and ever so charming, in other
respects ; I should hate him — despise him — pity him —
anything but love him. My affections not only ought
to be founded on approbation, but they will and must
be so ; for, without approving, I cannot love. It is
needless to say, I ought to be able to respect and
honour the man I marry, as well as love him, for I
cannot love him without. So set your mind at rest."

" I hope it may be so," answered she.

" I know it is so," persisted I.

' ' You have not been tried yet, Helen — we can but
hope," said she, in her cold, cautious way.

I was vexed at her incredulity ; but I am not sure
her doubts were entirely without sagacity ; I fear I
have found it much easier to remember her advice
than to profit by it ; — indeed, I have sometimes been led
to question the soundness of her doctrines on those
subjects. Her counsels may be good, as far as they go
— in the main points, at least ; — but there are some
things she has overlooked in her calculations. I
wonder if she was ever in love.

I commenced my career — or my first campaign, as
my uncle calls it — kindling with bright hopes and
fancies — chiefly raised by this conversation — and full
of confidence in my own discretion. At first, I was
delighted with the novelty and excitement of our

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 127

London life ; but soon I began to weary of its mingled
turbulence and constraint, and sigh for the freshness
of freedom and home. My new acquaintances, both
male and female, disappointed my expectations, and
rexed and depressed me by turns ; for I soon grew
tired of studying their peculiarities, and laughing at
their foibles — particularly as I was obliged to keep
my criticisms to myself, for my aunt would not hear
them — and they — the ladies especially — appeared so
provokingly mindless, and heartless, and artificial. The
gentlemen seemed better, but, perhaps, it was because
I knew them less — perhaps, because they flattered
me ; but I did not fall in love with any of them ;
and, if their attentions pleased me one moment, they
provoked me the next, because they put me out of
humour with myself, by revealing my vanity, and
making me fear I was becoming like some of the
ladies I so heartily despised.

There was one elderly gentleman that annoyed me
very much ; a rich old friend of my uncle's, who, I
believe, thought I could not de better than marry him ;
but, besides being old, he was ugly and disagreeable, —
and wicked, I am sure, though my aunt scolded me
for saying so ; but she allowed he was no saint. And
there was another, less hateful, but still more tire-
some, because she favoured him, and was always
thrusting him upon me, and sounding his praises in
my ears, Mr Boarham, by name, Bore'em, as I prefer
spelling it, for a terrible bore he was: I shudder
still at the remembrance of his voice, drone, drone,
drone, in my ear, while he sat beside me, prosing
away by the half-hour together, and beguiling himself
with the notion that he was improving my mind by
useful information, or impressing his dogmas upon
me, and reforming my errors of judgment, or, perhaps,
that he was talking down to my level, and amusing me
with entertaining discourse. Yet he was a decent
man enough, in the main, 1 dare say ; and if he had
kept his distance, I never would have hated him. A.«
it was, it was almost impossible to help it ; for he not

128 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

only bothered me with the infliction of his own pre-
sence, but he kept me from the enjoyment of more
agreeable society.

One night, however, at a ball, he had been more
than usually tormenting, and my patience was quite
exhausted. It appeared as if the whole evening was
fated to be insupportable : I had just had one dance
with an empty-headed coxcomb, and then Mr Boar-
ham had come upon me and seemed determined to
cling to me for the rest of the night. He never
danced himself, and there he sat, poking his head in
my face, and impressing all beholders with the idea
that he was a confirmed, acknowledged lover ; my
aunt looking complacently on, all the time, and wishing
him God-speed. In vain I attempted to drive him
away by giving a loose to my exasperated feelings,
even to positive rudeness ; nothing could convince
him that his presence was disagreeable. Sullen
silence was taken for rapt attention, and gave him
greater room to talk ; sharp answers were received
as smart sallies of girlish vivacity, that only required
an indulgent rebuke ; and flat contradictions were but
as oil to the flames, calling forth new strains of
argument to support his dogmas, and bringing down
upon me endless floods of reasoning to overwhelm me
with conviction.

But there was one present who seemed to have a
better appreciation of my frame of mind. A gentle-
man stood by, who had been watching our conference
for some time, evidently much amused at my com-
panion's remorseless pertinacity and my manifest
annoyance, and laughing to himself at the asperity
and uncompromising spirit of my replies. At length,
however, he withdrew, and went to the lady of the
house, apparently for the purpose of asking an intro-
duction to me, for, shortly after, they both came up,
and she introduced him as Mr Huntingdon, the son of
a late friend of my uncle's. He asked me to dance. I
gladly consented, of course ; and he was my com-
panion during the remainder of my stay, which was

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 129

not long, for my aunt, as usual, insisted upon an
early departure.

I was sorry to go, for I had found my new acquaint-
ance a very lively and entertaining companion. There
was a certain graceful ease and freedom about all he
said and did, that gave a sense of repose and expansion
to the mind, after so much constraint and formality as
I had been doomed to suffer. There might be, it is
true, a little too much careless boldness in his manner
and address, but I was in so good a humour, and so
grateful for my late deliverance from Mr Boarham,
that it did not anger me.

" Well, Helen, how do you like Mr Boarham
now?" said my aunt, as we took our seats in the
carriage and drove away.

" Worse than ever," 1 replied.

She looked displeased, but said no more on that
subject.

" Who was the gentleman you danced with last,"
resumed she, after a pause — "that was so officious in
helping you on with your shawl ? "

"He was not officious at all, aunt: he never at-
tempted to help me, till he saw Mr Boarham coming
to do so ; and then he stepped laughingly forward
and said, ' Come, I'll preserve you from that in-
fliction.'"

" Who was it, I ask ? " said she, with frigid gravity.

" It was Mr Huntingdon, the son of uncle's old
friend. "

"1 have heard your uncle speak of young Mr
Huntingdon. I've heard him say, ' He's a fine lad,
that young Huntingdon, but a bit wildish, I fancy/
So I'd have you beware."

" What does ' a bit wildish ' mean ? " I inquired.

" It means destitute of principle, and prone to every
vice that is common to youth."

" But I've heard uncle say he was a sad wild fellow
himself, when he was young."

She sternly shook her head.

" He was jesting then, I suppose," said I, " and
i

130 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

here he was speaking at random — at least, I cannot
believe there is any harm in those laughing blue
eyes."

" False reasoning, Helen ! " said she, with a sigh.

" Well, we ought to be charitable, you know, aunt
— besides, I don't think it is false : I am an excellent
physiognomist, and I always judge of people's char-
acters by their looks — not by whether they are hand-
some or ugly, but by the general cast of the
countenance. For instance, I should know by your
countenance that you were not of a cheerful, sanguine
disposition ; and I should know by Mr Wilmot's that
he was a worthless old reprobate, and by Mr Boarham's
that he was not an agreeable companion, and by Mr
Huntingdon's that he was neither a fool nor a knave,
though, possibly, neither a sage nor a saint — but that
is no matter to me, as I am not likely to meet him
again — unless as an occasional partner in the ball-
room. "

It was not so, however, for I met him again next
morning. He came to call upon my uncle, apologising
for not having done so before, by saying he was only
lately returned from the continent, and had uot heard,
till the previous night, of my uncle's arrival in town ;
and after that, I often met him ; sometimes in public,
sometimes at home ; for he was very assiduous in pay-
ing his respects to his old friend, who did not, however,
consider himself greatly obliged by the attention.

" I wonder what the deuce the lad means by coming
so often," he would say, — "can you tell, Helen? —
Hey? He wants none o' my company, nor I his —
that's certain."

" I wish you'd tell him so, then," said my aunt.

" Why, what for ? If I don't want him, somebody
does, mayhap (winking at me). Besides, he's a pretty
tidy fortune, Peggy, you know — not such a catch as
Wilmot, but then Helen won't hear of that match ; for,
somehow, these old chaps don't go down with the
girls — with all their money — and their experience to
boot. I'll bet anything she'd rather have this young

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 131

fellow without a penny, than Wilmot with his house
full of gold — Wouldn't you, Nell ? "

" Yes, uncle ; but that's not saying much for Mr
Huntingdon, for I'd rather be an old maid and a
pauper, than Mrs Wilmot."

"And Mrs Huntingdon? What would you rather
be than Mrs Huntingdon ? eh ? "

" I'll tell you when I've considered the matter."

f< Ah ! it needs consideration then. But come, now
— would you rather be an old maid — let alone the
pauper?"

" I can't tell till Pm asked."

And I left the room immediately, to escape further
examination. But five minutes after, in looking from
my window, I beheld Mr Boarham coming up to the
door. I waited nearly half-an-hour in uncomfortable
suspense, expecting every minute to be called, and
vainly longing to hear him go. Then, footsteps were
heard on the stairs, and my aunt entered the room with
a solemn countenance, and closed the door behind her.

" Here is Mr Boarham, Helen," said she. " He
wishes to see you."

" Oh, aunt ! Can't you tell him I'm indisposed ? —
I'm sure I am — to see him."

" Nonsense, my dear ! this is no trifling matter. He
is come on a very important errand — to ask your hand
in marriage, of your uncle and me."

'• I hope my uncle and you told him it was not in
your power to give it. What right had he to ask any
one before me ? •"

"Helen!"

" What did my uncle say?"

" He said he would not interfere in the matter ; if
you liked to accept Mr Boarham's obliging offer, you

" Did he say obliging offer ? "

' • No ; he said if you liked to take him you might ;
and if not, you might please yourself."
" He said right ; and what did you
" It is no matter what I said. What will you say ? —

132 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

that is the question. He is now waiting to ask you
himself ; but consider well before you go ; and if you
intend to refuse him, give me your reasons."

"I shall refuse him, of course, but you must tell me
how, for I want to be civil and yet decided — and when
I've got rid of him, I'll give you my reasons after-
wards."

" But stay, Helen ; sit down a little, and compose
yourself. Mr. Boarham is in no particular hurry, for
he has little doubt of your acceptance ; and I want to
speak with you. Tell me, my dear, what are your
objections to him ? Do you deny that he is an upright,
honourable man ? "

" No."

" Do you deny that he is a sensible, sober, respect-
able?"

" No ; he may be all this, but "

" But, Helen ! How many such men do you expect
to meet with in the world ? Upright, honourable,
sensible, sober, respectable ! — Is this such an every-day
character, that you should reject the possessor of such
noble qualities, without a moment's hesitation ? — Yes,
noble, I may call them ; for, think of the full meaning
of each, and how many inestimable virtues they include
(and I might add many more to the list), and consider
that all this is laid at your feet ; it is in your power to
secure this inestimable blessing for life — a worthy and
excellent husband, who loves you tenderly, but not too
fondly so as to blind him to your faults, and will be
your guide throughout life's pilgrimage, and your
partner in eternal bliss ! Think how "

" But I hate him, aunt, said I," interrupting this
unusual flow of eloquence.

" Hate him, Helen ! Is this a Christian spirit ? —
you hate him ? — and he so good a man ! "

" I don't hate him as a man, but as a husband. As
-a man, 1 love him so much, that I wish him a better
wife than I — one as good as himself, or better — if you
think that possible — provided, she could like him ; but
I never could, and therefore "

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 133

" But why not ? What objection do you find ? "

" Firstly, he is, at least, forty years old — considerably
more I should think, and I am but eighteen : secondly,
he is narrow-minded and bigoted in the extreme ;
thirdly, his tastes and feelings are wholly dissimilar to
mine ; fourthly, his looks, voice, and manner are par-
ticularly displeasing to me ; and finally, I have an
aversion to his whole person that 1 never can sur-
mount."

" Then you ought to surmount it ! And please to
compare him for a moment with Mr Huntingdon, and,
good looks apart (which contribute nothing to the merit
of the man, or to the happiness of married life, and
which you have so often professed to hold in light
esteem), tell me which is the better man."

"I have no doubt Mr Huntingdon is a much better
man than you think him — but we are not talking about
him, now, but about Mr Boarham ; and as I would
rather grow, live and die in single blessedness than
be his wife, it is but right that I should tell him so at
once, and put him out of suspense — so let me

go-"

' ' But don't give him a flat denial ; he has no idea of
such a thing, and it would offend him greatly : say you
have no thoughts of matrimony, at present "

" But I have thoughts of it/'

" Or that you desire a further acquaintance."

" But I don't desire a further acquaintance — quite
the contrary."

And without waiting for further admonitions, I left
the room, and went to seek Mr Boarham. He was
walking up and down the drawing-room, humming
snatches of tunes, and nibbling the end of his cane.

" My dear young lady," said he, bowing and smirking
with great complacency, " I have your kind guardian's
permission

" I know, sir," said I, wishing to shorten the scene
as much as possible, "and I am greatly obliged for
your preference, but must beg to decline the honour
you wish to confer; for, I think, we were not made for

134 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

each other— as you yourself would shortly discover if
the experiment were tried."

My aunt was right : it was quite evident he had had
little doubt of my acceptance, and no idea of a positive
denial. He was amazed — astounded at such an answer,
but too incredulous to be much offended ; and after a
little humming and hawing, he returned to the attack.

" I know, my dear, that there exists a considerable
disparity between us in years, in temperament, and
perhaps some other things ; but let me assure you, I
shall not be severe to mark the faults and foibles of a
young and ardent nature such as yours, and while I
acknowledge them to myself, and even rebuke them
with all a father's care, believe me, no youthful lover
could be more tenderly indulgent towards the object of
his affections, than I to you ; and, on the other hand,
let me hope that my more experienced years and graver
habits of reflection will be no disparagement in your
eyes, as I shall endeavour to make them all conducive
to your happiness. Come now ! What do you say ? —
Let us have no young lady's affectations and caprices,
but speak out at once ! "

' ' I will, but only to repeat what I said before, that
I am certain we were not made for each other."

" You really think so ? ''

" I do."

" But you don't know me — you wish for a further
acquaintance — a longer time to "

"No, I don't. I know you as well as I ever shall,
and better than you know me, or you would never
dream of uniting yourself to one so incongruous — so
utterly unsuitable to you in every way.''

" But my dear young lady, I don't look for perfec-
tion. I can excuse "

"Thank you, Mr Boarham, but I won't trespass
upon your goodness. You may save your indulgence
and consideration for some more worthy object, that
won't tax them so heavily."

" But let me beg you to consult your aunt ; that
excellent lady, I am sure, will "

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 135

" I have consulted her ; and I know her wishes
coincide with yours ; but in such important matters I
take the liberty of judging for myself; and no per-
suasion can alter my inclinations, or induce me to
believe that such a step would be conducive to my
happiness, or yours — and I wonder that a man of your
experience and discretion should think of choosing
such a wife."

" Ah, well ! " said he, " I have sometimes wondered
at that myself. I have sometimes said to myself,
'Now, Boarham, what is this you're after? Take
care, man — look before you leap ! This is a sweet,
bewitching creature, but remember, the brightest
attractions to the lover, too often prove the husband's
greatest torments ! ' I assure you my choice has not
been made without much reasoning and reflection.
The seeming imprudence of the match has cost me
many an anxious thought by day, and many a sleepless
hour by night ; but at length, I satisfied myself, that
it was not, in very deed, imprudent. I saw my sweet
girl was not without her faults, but of these, her youth,
I trusted, was not one, but rather an earnest of virtues
yet unblown — a strong ground of presumption that her
little defects of temper, and errors of judgment,
opinion, or manner were not irremediable, but might
easily be removed or mitigated by the patient efforts
of a watchful and judicious adviser, and where I failed
to enlighten and control, I thought I might safely
undertake to pardon, for the sake of her many excel-
lencies. Therefore, my dearest girl, since I am satis-
fied, why should you object — on my account, at
least?"

"But to tell you the truth, Mr Boarham, it is on

my own account I principally object ; so let us drop

the subject," I would have said, " for it is worse than
useless to pursue it any further," but he pertinaciously
interrupted me with, —

"But why so? I would love you, cherish you,
protect you, etc., etc."

I shall not trouble myself to put down all that

136 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

passed between us. Suffice it to say, that I found
him very troublesome, and very hard to convince that
I really meant what I said, and really was so obstinate
and blind to my own interests, that there was no
shadow of a chance that either he or my aunt would
ever be able to overcome my objections. Indeed, I am
not sure that I succeeded after all, though wearied
with his so pertinaciously returning to the same point
and repeating the same arguments over and over again,
forcing me to reiterate the same replies, I at length
turned short and sharp upon him, and my last words
were, —

" I tell you plainly, that it cannot be. No con-
sideration can induce me to marry against my inclina-
tions. I respect you — at least, I would respect you,
if you would behave like a sensible man — but I cannot
love you, and never could — and the more you talk the
further you repel me ; so pray don't say any more
about it."

Whereupon, he wished me a good morning and
withdrew, disconcerted and offended, no doubt ; but
surely it was not my fault.

CHAPTER XVII

THE next day, I accompanied my uncle and aunt to a
dinner party at Mr Wilmot's. He had two ladies
staying with him, his niece Annabella, a fine dashing
girl, or rather young woman, of some five and twenty,
too great a flirt to be married, according to her own
assertion, but greatly admired by the gentlemen, who
universally pronounced her a splendid woman, — and
her gentle cousin Milicent Hargrave, who had taken a
violent fancy to me, mistaking me for something vastly
better than I was. And I, in return, was very fond of
her. I should entirely exclude poor Milicent in my
general animadversions against the ladies of my
acquaintance. But it was not on her account, or her
cousin's, that I have mentioned the party : it was for

THE TENANT OF U'lLDFELL HALL 137

the sake of another of Mr Wilmot's guests, to wit Mr
Huntingdon. I have good reason to remember his
presence there, for this was the last time I saw him.

He did not sit near me at dinner ; for it was his fate
to hand in a capacious old dowager, and mine to be
handed in by Mr Grimsby, a friend of his, but a man I
very greatly disliked : there was a sinister cast in his
countenance, and a mixture of lurking ferocity and
fulsome insincerity in his demeanour, that I could not
away with. What a tiresome custom that is, by-
the-bye — one among the many sources of factitious
annoyance of this ultra-civilised life. If the gentle-
men must lead the ladies into the dining-room, why
cannot they take those they like best ?

I am not sure, however, that Mr Huntingdon would
have taken me, if he had been at liberty to make his
own selection. It is quite possible he might have
chosen Miss Wilmot ; for she seemed bent upon
engrossing his attention to herself, and he seemed
nothing loath to pay the homage she demanded. I
thought so, at least, when I saw how they talked and
laughed, and glanced across the table, to the neglect
and evident umbrage of their respective neighbours —
and afterwards, as the gentlemen joined us in the
drawing-room, when she, immediately upon his en-
trance, loudly called upon him to be the arbiter of a
dispute between herself and another lady, and he
answered the summons with alacrity, and decided the
question without a moment's hesitation in her favour
— though, to my thinking, she was obviously in the
wrong — and then stood chatting familiarly with her
and a group of other ladies ; while I sat with Milicent
Hargrave, at the opposite end of the room, looking
over the latter^ drawings, and aiding her with my
critical observations and advice, at her particular
desire. But in spite of my efforts to remain com-
posed, my attention wandered from the drawings to
the merry group, and against my better judgment my
wratli rose, and doubtless my countenance lowered ;
for Milicent, observing that I must be tired of her

138 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

daubs and scratches, begged I would join the company
now, and defer the examination of the remainder to
another opportunity. But while I was assuring her
that I had no wish to join them, and was not tired, Mr
Huntingdon himself came up to the little round table
at which we sat.

" Are these yours ?" said he, carelessly taking up
one of the drawings.
" No, they are Miss Hargrave's."
" Oh ! well, let's have a look at them."
And, regardless of Miss Hargrave's protestations that
they were not worth looking at, he drew a chair to my
side, and receiving the drawings, one by one from my
band, successively scanned them over, and threw them
on the table, but said not a word about them, though
he was talking all the time. I don't know what
Milicent Hargrave thought of such conduct, but I
found his conversation extremely interesting, though
as I afterwards discovered, when I came to analyse it,
it was chiefly confined to quizzing the different members
of the company present ; and albeit he made some
clever remarks, and some excessively droll ones, I do
not think the whole would appear anything very
particular, if written here, without the adventitious
aids of look, and tone, and gesture, and that ineffable
but indefinite charm, which cast a halo over all he did
and said, and which would have made it a delight to
look in his face, and hear the music of his voice, if he
had been talking positive nonsense — and which, more-
over, made me feel so bitter against my aunt when she
put a stop to this enjoyment, by coming composedly
forward, under pretence of wishing to see the draw-
ings, that she cared and knew nothing about, and
while making believe to examine them, addressing
herself to Mr Huntingdon, with one of her coldest and
most repellent aspects, and beginning a scries of the
most common-place and formidably formal questions
and observations, on purpose to wrest his attention
from me — on purpose to vex me, as I thought : and
having now looked through the portfolio, I left them

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 139

to their tete-a-tete, and seated myself on a sofa, quite
apart from the company — never thinking how strange
such conduct would appear, but merely to indulge, at
first, the vexation of the moment, and subsequently to
enjoy my private thoughts.

But I was not left long alone, for Mr Wilmot, of all
men the least welcome, took advantage of my isolated
position to come and plant himself beside me. I had
flattered myself that I had so effectually repulsed his
advances on all former occasions, that I had nothing
more to apprehend from his unfortunate predilection ;
but it seems I was mistaken : so great was his con-
fidence, either in his wealth or his remaining powers
of attraction, and so firm his conviction of feminine
weakness, that he thought himself warranted to return
to the siege, which he did with renovated ardour, en-
kindled by the quantity of wine he had drunk — a
circumstance that rendered him infinitely the more
disgusting ; but greatly as I abhorred him at that
moment, I did not like to treat him with rudeness, as
I was now his guest and had just been enjoying his
hospitality ; and I was no hand at a polite but deter-
mined rejection, nor would it have greatly availed me
if I had ; for he was too coarse-minded to take any
repulse that was not as plain and positive as his own
effrontery. The consequence was, that he waxed more
fulsomely tender, and more repulsively warm, and I
was driven to the very verge of desperation, and about
to say, I know not what, when I felt my hand, that
hung over the arm of the sofa, suddenly taken by
another and gently but fervently pressed. Instinctively,
I guessed who it was, and, on looking up, was less
surprised than delighted to see Mr Huntingdon smiling
upon me. It was like turning from some purgatorial
fiend to an angel of light, come to announce that the
season of torment was past.

" Helen," said he (he frequently called me Helen,
and I never resented the freedom), " I want you to
look at this picture : Mr Wilmot will excuse you a
moment, I'm sure."

140 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

I rose with alacrity. He drew my arm within his,
and led me across the room to a splendid painting of
Vandyke's that I had noticed before, but not suffi-
ciently examined. After a moment of silent con-
templation, I was beginning to comment on its beauties
and peculiarities, when, playfully pressing the hand
he still retained within his arm, he interrupted me
with, —

" Never mind the picture, it was not for that I
brought you here ; it was to get you away from that
scoundrelly old profligate yonder, who is looking as if
he would like to challenge me for the affront."

" I am very much obliged to you/' said I. " This
is twice you have delivered me from such unpleasant
companionship. '*

" Don't be too thankful," he answered : " it is not
all kindness to you ; it is partly from a feeling of spite
to your tormentors that makes me delighted to do the
old fellows a bad turn, though I don't think I have
any great reason to dread them as rivals. Have I,
Helen?"

" You know I detest them both."

"And me?"

"I have no reason to detest you."

" But what are your sentiments towards me ? Helen
— Speak ! How do you regard me ? "

And again he pressed my hand ; but I feared there
was more of conscious power than tenderness in his
demeanour, and I felt he had no right to extort a con-
fession of attachment from me when he had made no
correspondent avowal himself, and knew not what to
answer. At last I said, —

" How do you regard me?"

" Sweet angel, I adore you ! I "

(t Helen, I want you a moment," said the distinct, low
voice of my aunt, close beside us. And I left him,
muttering maledictions against his evil angel.

" Well, aunt, what is it ? What do you want ? "
said I, following her to the embrasure of the window.

" I want you to join the company, when you are tit

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 141

to be seen," returned she, severely regarding me ;
" but please to stay here a little till that shocking
colour is somewhat abated, and your eyes have re-
covered something of their natural expression. I
should be ashamed for any one to see you in your
present state."

Of course, such a remark had no effect in reducing
the " shocking colour ; " on the contrary, I felt my
face glow with redoubled fires kindled by a complica-
tion of emotions, of which indignant, swelling anger
was the chief. I offered no reply, however, but pushed
aside the curtain and looked into the night — or rather,
into the lamp-lit square.

"Was Mr Huntingdon proposing to you, Helen?"
inquired my too watchful relative.

"No."

"What was he saying then? I heard something
very like it."

" I don't know what he would have said, if you
hadn't interrupted him."

"And would you have accepted him, Helen, if he
had proposed?"

" Of course not — without consulting uncle and you."

" Oh ! I'm glad, my dear, you have so much prudence
left. Well, now," she added, after a moment's pause,
" you have made yourself conspicuous enough for one
evening. The ladies are directing inquiring glances
towards us at this moment I see. I shall join them.
Do you come too, when you are sufficiently composed
to appear as u.-unl."

" I am so now."

" Speak gently then ; and don't look so malicious,"
said my calm, but provoking aunt. " We shall return
home shortly, and then," she added with solemn
significance, " I have much to say to you."

So I went home prepared for a formidable lecture.
Little was said by either party in the carriage during
our short transit homewards ; but when I had entered
my room and thrown myself into an easy chair to
reflect on the events of the day, my aunt followed me

142 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

thither, and having dismissed Rachel, who was care-
fully stowing away my ornaments, closed the door ;
and placing a chair beside me, or rather at right angles
with mine, sat down. With due deference I offered
her my more commodious seat. She declined it, and
thus opened the conference :

"Do you remember, Helen, our conversation the
night but one before we left Staningley ? ''

"Yes, aunt."

" And do you remember how I warned you against
letting your heart be stolen from you by those un-
worthy of its possession ; and fixing your affections
where approbation did not go before, and where reason
and judgment withheld their sanction ? "

" Yes, but my reason '

<e Pardon me — and do you remember assuring me
that there was no occasion for uneasiness on your
account ; for you should never be tempted to marry
a man who was deficient in sense or principle, however
handsome or charming in other respects he might be,
for you could not love him, you should hate — despise
— pity — anything but love him — were not those your
words ? "

" Yes, but "

" And did you not say that your affection must be
founded on approbation ; and that unless you could
approve and honour and respect, you could not love ? ''

" Yes, but I do approve, and honour, and respect

"How so, my dear? is Mr Huntingdon a good
man ? "

' He is a much better man than you think him."

' That is nothing to the purpose. Is he a good
man?"

' Yes — in some respects. He has a good disposition."

' Is he a man of principle ? "

' Perhaps not, exactly ; but it is only for want of
thought : if he had some one to advise him, and remind

him of what is right "

" He would soon learn, you think — and you yourself

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 143

would willingly undertake to be his teacher? But,
my dear, he is, I believe, full ten years older thai*
you — how is it that you are so before-hand in moral
acquirements ? "

*' Thanks to you, aunt, I have been well brought up,
and had good examples always before me, which he,
most likely, has not ; and besides, he is of a sanguine
temperament, and a gay thoughtless temper, and I am
uaturallv inclined to reflection."

" Well, now you have made him out to be deficient
in both sense and principle, by your own confession

"Then, my sense and my principle are at his
service ! "

" That sounds presumptuous, Helen ! Do you
think you have enough for both ; and do you imagine
your merry, thoughtless profligate would allow himself
to be guided by a young girl like you ? "

" No ; I should not wish to guide him ; but I think
I might have influence sufficient to save him from some
errors, and I should think my life well spent in the
effort to preserve so noble a nature from destruction.
He always listens attentively ziow, when I speak
seriously to him (and I often venture to reprove his
random way of talking), and sometimes he says that
if he had me always by his side he should never do or
say a wicked thing, and that a little daily talk with me
would make him quite a saint. It may be partly jest
and partly flattery, but still "

" But still you think it may be truth ? "

" If I do think there is any mixture of truth in it, it
is not from confidence in my own powers, but in his
natural goodness. And you have no right to call him
a profligate, aunt ; he is nothing of the kind."

" Who told you so, my dear? What was that story
about his intrigue with a married lady — Lady who was
it — Miss Wilmot herself was telling you the other
day?"

" It was false — false ! " I cried. " I don't believe a
word of it."

144 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

*' You think, then, that he is a virtuous, well-
conducted young man ? "

" I know nothing positive respecting his character.
I only know that I have heard nothing definitive
against it — nothing that could be proved, at least ; and
till people can prove their slanderous accusations, I
will not believe them. And I know this, that if he has
committed errors, they are only such as are common
to youth, and such as nobody thinks anything about ;
for I see that everybody likes him, and all the mammas
smile upon him, and their daughters — and Miss
Wilmot herself — are only too glad to attract his
attention."

" Helen, the world may look upon such offences as
venial ; a few unprincipled mothers may be anxious to
catch a young man of fortune without reference to his
character ; and thoughtless girls may be glad to win
the smiles of so handsome a gentleman, without seeking
to penetrate beyond the surface ; but you, I trusted,
were better informed than to see with their eyes, and
judge with their perverted judgment. I did not think
you would call these venial errors ! "

" Nor do I, aunt ; but if I hate the sins I love the
sinner, and would do much for his salvation, even
supposing your suspicions to be mainly true — which I
do not and will not believe."

" Well, my dear, ask your uncle what sort of
company he keeps, and if he is not banded with a set
of loose, profligate young men, whom he calls his
friends — his jolly companions, and whose chief delight
is to wallow in vice, and vie with each other who can
run fastest and furthest down the headlong road, to
the place prepared for the devil and his angels."

" Then, I will save him from them."

tf Oh, Helen, Helen ! you little know the misery of
uniting your fortunes to such a man ! "

" I have such confidence in him, aunt, notwith-
standing all you say, that I would willingly risk my
happiness for the chance of securing his. I will leave
better men to those who only consider their own

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 145

advantage. If he has done amiss, I shall consider my
life well spent in saving him from the consequences of
his early errors, and striving to recall him to the path
of virtue. God grant me success ! "

Here the conversation ended, for at this juncture
my uncle's voice was heard, from his chamber, loudly
calling upon my aunt to come to bed. He was in a
bad humour that night ; for his gout was worse. It
had been gradually increasing upon him ever since we
came to town ; and my aunt took advantage of the
circumstance, next morning, to persuade him to return
to the country immediately, without waiting for the
close of the season. His physician supported and
enforced her arguments ; and contrary to her usual
habits, she so hurried the preparations for removal
(as much for my sake as my uncle's, I think), that in
a very few days we departed ; and I saw no more of
Mr Huntingdon. My aunt flatters herself I shall soon
forget him — perhaps, she thinks I have forgotten him,
already, for I never mention his name ; and she may
continue to think so, till we meet again — if ever that
should be. I wonder if it will.

CHAPTER XVIII

AUGUST 25th. — I am now quite settled down to my
usual routine of steady occupations and quiet amuse-
ments— tolerably contented and cheerful, but still
looking forward to spring with the hope of returning
to town, not for its gaieties and dissipations, but for
tin; chance of meeting Mr Huntingdon once again ; for
still, he is always in my thoughts and in my dreams.
In all my employments, whatever I do, or see, or hear,
has an ultimate reference to him ; whatever skill or
knowledge I acquire is some day to be turned to his
advantage or amusement ; whatever new beauties in
nature or art I discover, are to be depicted to meet
his eye, or stored in my memory to be told him at
K

146 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

some future period. This, at least, is the hope that I
cherish, the fancy that lights me on my lonely way.
It may be only an ignis fatuus, after all, but it can do
no harm to follow it with my eyes and rejoice in its
lustre, as long as it does not lure me from the path
I ought to keep ; and I think it will not, for I have
thought deeply on my aunf s advice, and I see clearly,
now, the folly of throwing myself away on one that is
unworthy of all the love I have to give, and incapable
of responding to the best and deepest feelings of my
inmost heart — so clearly, that even if I should see him
again, and if he should remember me and love me still
(which, alas ! is too little probable, considering how
he is situated, and by whom surrounded), and if he
should ask me to marry him — I am determined not to
consent until I know for certain whether my aunt's
opinion of him or mine is nearest the truth ; for if
mine is altogether wrong, it is not he that I love ; it
is a creature of my own imagination. But I think it
is not wrong — no, no — there is a secret something — an
inward instinct that assures me I am right. There is
essential goodness in him ; — and what delight to unfold
it ! If he has wandered, what bliss to recall him ! If
he is now exposed to the baneful influence of corrupt-
ing and wicked companions, what glory to deliver him
from them ! Oh ! if I could but believe that Heaven
has designed me for this !

******

To-day is the first of September ; but my uncle has
ordered the gamekeeper to spare the partridges till the
gentlemen come. " What gentlemen ? " I asked when
I heard it — a small party he had invited to shoot. His
friend Mr Wilmot was one, and my aunt's friend Mr
Boarham another. This struck me as terrible news,
at the moment, but all regret and apprehension
vanished like a dream when I heard that Mr Hun-
tingdon was actually to be a third ! My aunt is
greatly against his coming, of course : she earnestly
endeavoured to dissuade my uncle from asking him ;
but he, laughing at her objections, told her it was no

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 147

use talking, for the mischief was already done : he
had invited Huntingdon and his friend Lord Low-
borough before we left London, and nothing now
remained but to fix the day for their coming. So he
is safe, and I am sure of seeing him. I cannot express
my joy. I find it very difficult to conceal it from my
aunt ; but I don't wish to trouble her with my feelings
till I know whether I ought to indulge them or not.
If I find it my absolute duty to suppress them, they
shall trouble no one but myself ; and if I can really
feel myself justified in indulging this attachment, I
can dare anything, even the anger and grief of my
best friend, for its object — surely, I shall soon know.
But they are not coming till about the middle of the
month.

\V'e are to have two lady visitors also : Mr Wilmot
is to bring his niece and her cousin Milicent. I
suppose, my aunt thinks the latter will benefit me by
her society and the salutary example of her gentle
deportment, and lowly and tractable spirit ; and the
former, I suspect she intends as a species of counter-
attraction to win Mr Huntingdon's attention from me.
I don't thank her for this ; but I shall be glad of Mili-
ceut's company : she is a sweet, good girl, and I wish
I were like her — more like her, at least, than I am.
******

19th. — They are come. They came the day before
yesterday. The gentlemen are all gone out to shoot,
and the ladies are with my aunt, at work, in the
drawing-room. I have retired to the library, for I am
very unhappy, and I want to be alone. Books cannot
divert me ; so having opened my desk, I will try what
may be done by detailing the cause of my uneasiness.
This paper will serve instead of a confidential friend
into whose ear I might pour forth the overflowings of
my heart. It will not sympathise with my distresses,
hut then, it will not laugh at them, and, if 1 keep it
close, it cannot tell again ; so it is, perhaps, the best
friend I could have for the purpose.

First, let me speak of his arrival — how I sat at my

148 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

window, and watched for nearly two hours, before his
carriage entered the park gates — for they all came
before him, — and how deeply I was disappointed at
«very arrival, because it was not his. First came Mr
Wilmot and the ladies. When Milicent had got into
her room, I quitted my post a few minutes, to look in
upon her, and have a little private conversation, for
she was now my intimate friend, several long epistles
having passed between us since our parting. On
returning to my window, I beheld another carriage at
the door. Was it his ? No ; It was Mr Boarham's
plain dark chariot ; and there stood he upon the steps,
carefully superintending the dislodging of his various
boxes and packages. What a collection ! one would
have thought he projected a visit of six months at least.
A considerable time after, came Lord Lowborough in
his barouche. Is he one of the profligate friends, I
wonder ? I should think not ; for no one could call
him a jolly companion, I'm sure, — and besides, he
appears too sober and gentlemanly in his demeanour,
to merit such suspicions. He is a tall, thin, gloomy-
looking man, apparently between thirty and forty, and
of a somewhat sickly, careworn aspect.

At last, Mr Huntingdon's light phaeton came
bowling merrily up the lawn. I had but a transient
glimpse of him, for the moment it'stopped, he sprang
out over the side on to the portico steps, and dis-
appeared into the house.

I now submitted to be dressed for dinner — a duty
which Rachel had been urging upon me for the last
twenty minutes ; and when that important business
was completed, I repaired to the drawing-room, where
I found Mr and Miss Wilmot, and Milicent Hargrave,
already assembled. Shortly after, Lord Lowborough
entered, and then Mr Boarham, who seemed quite
willing to forget and forgive my former conduct, and
to hope that a little conciliation and steady persever-
ance on his part might yet succeed in bringing me to
reason. While I stood at the window, conversing with
Milicent, he came up to me, and was beginning to talk

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 149

in nearly his usual strain, when Mr Huntingdon
entered the room.

" How will he greet me, I wonder ? " said my bound-
ing heart ; and, instead of advancing to meet him, I
turned to the window to hide or subdue my emotion.
But having saluted his host and hostess, and the rest
of the company, he came to me, ardently squeezed my
hand, and murmured he was glad to see me once again.
At that moment dinner was announced, my aunt desired
him to take Miss Hargrave into the dining-room, and
odious Mr Wilmot, with unspeakable grimaces, offered
his arm to me ; and I was condemned to sit between
himself and Mr Boarham. But, afterwards, when we
were all again assembled in the drawing-room, I was
indemnified for so much suffering by a few delightful
minutes of conversation with Mr Huntingdon.

In the course of the evening, Miss Wilmot was called
upon to sing and play for the amusement of the
company, and I to exhibit my drawings, and, though
he likes music, and she is an accomplished musician, I
think that I am right in affirming, that he paid more
attention to my drawing than to her music.

So far, so good ; — but, hearing him pronounce, sotto
voce, but, with peculiar emphasis, concerning one of
the pieces, " This is better than all ! " — I looked up,
curious to see which it was, and, to my horror, beheld
him complacently gazing at the back of the picture : —
it was his own face that I had sketched there, and
forgotten to rub out ! To make matters worse, in the
agony of the moment, I attempted to snatch it from
his hand ; but he prevented me, and exclaiming, " No
— by George, I'll keep it ! " placed it against his waist-
coat, and buttoned his coat upon it with a delighted
chuckle.

Then, drawing a candle close to his elbow, he
gathered all the drawings to himself, as well what he
had seen as the others, and muttering, " I must look
at both sides now," he eagerly commenced an examina-
tion, which I watched, at first, with tolerable composure,
iu the confidence that his vanity would not be gratified

160 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

by any further discoveries ; for, though I must plead
guilty to having disfigured the backs of several with
abortive attempts to delineate that too fascinating
physiognomy, I was sure that, with that one unfortun-
ate exception, I had carefully obliterated all such
witnesses of my infatuation. But the pencil frequently
leaves an impression upon card-board, that no
amount of rubbing can efface. Such, it seems,
was the case with most of these ; and, I confess,
I trembled, when I saw him holding them so
close to the candle, and poring so intently over the
seeming blanks ; but still, I trusted, he would not be
able to make out these dim traces to his own satisfaction.
I was mistaken, however — having ended his scrutiny,
he quietly remarked, —

" I perceive the backs of young ladies' drawings,
like the postscripts of their letters, are the most im-
portant and interesting part of the concern."

Then, leaning back in his chair, he reflected a few
minutes in silence, complacently smiling to himself,
and, while I was concocting some cutting speech where-
with to check his gratification, he rose, and passing
over to where Annabella Wilmot sat vehemently
coquetting with Lord Lowborough, seated himself on
the sofa beside her, and attached himself to her for
the rest of the evening.

" So then ! " thought I — " he despises me, because
he knows I love him."

And the reflection made me so miserable — I knew
not what to do. Milicent came and began to admire
my drawings, and make remarks upon them ; but 1
could not talk to her — I could talk to no one ; and,
upon the introduction of tea, I took advantage of the
open door and the slight diversion caused by its
entrance, to slip out— for I was sure I could not take
any — and take refuge in the library. My aunt sent
Thomas in quest of me, to ask if I were not coming to
tea ; but I bade him say, I should not take any to-
night ; and, happily, she was too much occupied with
her guests, to make any further inouiries at the time.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 151

As most of the company had travelled far that day,
they retired early to rest ; and having heard them all,
as I thought, go up stairs, I ventured out, to get my
candlestick from the drawing-room side-board. But
Mr Huntingdon had lingered behind the rest : he was
just at the foot of the stairs, when I opened the door ;
and, hearing my step in the hall — though I could
hardly hear it myself — he instantly turned back.

" Helen, is that you?'' said he ; " why did you run
away from us ? "

" Good night, Mr Huntingdon," said I, coldly, not
choosing to answer the question. And I turned away
to enter the drawing-room.

"But you'll shake hands, won't you?'' said he,
placing himself in the doorway before me. And he
seized my hand, and held it much against my will.

"Let me go, Mr Huntingdon !" said I — "I want
to get a candle."

" The candle will keep," returned he.

I made a desperate effort to free my hand from his
grasp.

" Why are you in such a hurry to leave me, Helen ?"
he said, with a smile of the most provoking self-
sufficiency — "you don't hate me, you know."

" Yes, I do — at this moment"

" Not you ! It is Annabella Wilmot you hate, not
me."

" I have nothing to do with Annabella Wilmot,"
said I, burning with indignation.

" But I have, you know," returned he, with peculiar
emphasis.

" That is nothing to me, sir ! " I retorted.

" Is it nothing to you, Helen? — Will you swear it?
—Will you?"

"No, I won't, Mr Huntingdon! and I will go!"
cried I, not knowing whether to laugh, or to cry, or to
break out into a tempest of fury.

"Go, then, you vixen ! " he said ; but the instant he
released my hand, he had the audacity to put his arm
round my neck, and kiss me.

162 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

Trembling with anger and agitation — and I don't
know what besides, I broke away, and got my candle,
and rushed up stairs to my room. He would not have
done so, but for that hateful picture ! And there he
had it still in his possession, an eternal monument to
his pride and my humiliation !

It was but little sleep I got that night ; and, in
the morning, I rose perplexed and troubled with the
thoughts of meeting him at breakfast. I knew not how
it was to be done — an assumption of dignified, cold
indifference, would hardly do, after what he knew of
my devotion — to his face, at least. Yet something
must be done to check his presumption — I would not
submit to be tyrannised over by those bright, laughing
eyes. And, accordingly, I received his cheerful morn-
ing salutation as calmly and coldly as my aunt could
have wished, and defeated with brief answers his one
or two attempts to draw me into conversation ; while
I comported myself, with unusual cheerfulness and
complaisance towards every other member of the party,
especially Annabella Wilmot, and even her uncle and Mr
Boarham were treated with an extra amount of civility
on the occasion, not from any motives of coquetry,
but just to show him that my particular coolness and
reserve arose from no general ill-humour or depression
of spirits.

He was not, however, to be repelled by such acting
as this. He did not talk much to me, but when he did
speak it was with a degree of freedom and openness —
and kindliness too — that plainly seemed to intimate he
knew his words were music to my ears ; and when his
looks met mine it was with a smile— presumptuous it
might be — but oh, so sweet, so bright, so genial, that
I could not possibly retain my anger ; every vestige of
displeasure soon melted away beneath it like morning
clouds before the summer sun.

Soon after breakfast all the gentlemen save one,
with boyish eagerness, set out on their expedition
against the hapless partridges ; my uncle and Mr
Wilmot on their shooting ponies, Mr Huntingdon and

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 153

Lord Lowborough on their legs : the one exception
being Mr Boarham, who, in consideration of the rain
that had fallen during the night, thought it prudent to
remain behind a little and join them in a while when
the sun had dried the grass. And he favoured us all
with a long and minute disquisition upon the evils and
dangers attendant upon damp feet, delivered with the
most imperturbable gravity, amid the jeers and laughter
of Mr Huntingdon and my uncle, who, leaving the
prudent sportsman to entertain the ladies with his
medical discussions, sallied forth with their guns,
bending their steps to the stables first to have a look at
the horses and let out the dogs.

Not desirous of sharing Mr Boarham's company for
the whole of the morning I betook myself to the
library, and there brought forth my easel and began to-
paint. The easel and the painting apparatus would
serve as an excuse for abandoning the drawing-room if
my aunt should come to complain of the desertion, and
besides I wanted to finish tne picture. It was one I
had taken great pains with, and I intended it to be my
masterpiece, though it was somewhat presumptuous in
the design. By the bright azure of the sky, and by
the warm and brilliant lights and deep long shadows, I
had endeavoured to convey the idea of a sunny
morning. I had ventured to give more of the bright
verdure of spring or early summer to the grass and
foliage than is commonly attempted in painting. The
scene represented was an open glade in a wood. A
group of dark Scotch firs was introduced in the middle
distance to relieve the prevailing freshness of the rest ^
but in the foreground were part of the gnarled trunk
and of the spreading boughs of a large forest tree,
whose foliage was of a brilliant golden green — not
golden from autumnal mellowness, but from the sun-
.-hine and the very immaturity of the scarce expanded
leaves. Upon this bough, that stood out in bold relief
against the sombre firs, were seated an amorous pair of
turtle doves, whose soft sad coloured plumage afforded
a contrast of another nature ; and beneath it a young

154 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

girl was kneeling on the daisy-spangled turf with head
thrown back and masses of fair hair falling on her
shoulders, her hands clasped, lips parted, and eyes
intently gazing upward in pleased yet earnest con-
templation of those feathered lovers — too deeply
absorbed in each other to notice her.

I had scarcely settled to my work, which, however,
wanted but a few touches to the finishing, when the
sportsmen passed the window on their return from the
stables. It was partly open, and Mr Huntingdon
must have seen me as he went by, for in half a minute
he came back, and setting his gun against the wall
threw up the sash and sprang in and set himself before
my picture.

" Very pretty, i' faith ; " said he, after attentively
regarding it for a few seconds ; ec and a very fitting
study for a young lady. Spring just opening into
summer — morning just approaching noon — girlhood
just ripening into womanhood, and hope just verging
on fruition. She's a sweet creature ! but why didn't
you make her black hair ? "

" I thought light hair would suit her better. You
see I have made her blue-eyed and plump, and fair
and rosy."

' ' Upon my word — a very Hebe ! I should fall in
love with her if I hadn't the artist before me. Sweet
innocent ! she's thinking there will come a time when
she will be wooed and won like that pretty hen-dove by
as fond and fervent a lover ; and she's thinking how
pleasant it will be, and how tender and faithful he will
find her.'*

" And, perhaps," suggested I, " how tender and
faithful she shall find him/'

" Perhaps, for there is no limit to the wild ex-
travagance of Hope's imaginings at such an age."

" Do you call that, then, one of her wild, extravagant
delusions ? "

" No ; my heart tells me it is not. I might have
thought so once, but now, I say, give me the girl I
love, and I will swear eternal constancy to her and her

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 155

alone, through summer and winter, through youth and
age, and life and death ! if age and death must come."

He spoke this in such serious earnest that my heart
bounded with delight ; but the minute after he
changed his tone, and asked, with a significant smile,
if I had " any more portraits."

" No," replied I, reddening with confusion and
wrath. But my portfolio was on the table : he took
it up, and coolly sat down to examine its contents.

" Mr Huntingdon, those are my unfinished sketches,"
cried I, " and I never let any one see them."

And I placed my hand on the portfolio to wrest it
from him, but he maintained his hold, assuring me
that he " liked unfinished sketches of all things."

"But I hate them to be seen," returned I. "1
can't let you have it, indeed ! "

" Let me have its bowels then," said he ; and just as
I wrenched the portfolio from his hand he deftly
abstracted the greater part of its contents, and after
turning them over a moment he cried out, —

" Bless my stars, here's another ! *' and slipped a
small oval of ivory paper into his waistcoat pocket —
a complete miniature portrait that I had sketched with
such tolerable success as to be induced to colour it
with great pains and care. But I was determined he
should not keep it.

" Mr Huntingdon," cried I, " I insist upon having
that back ! It is mine, and you have no right to take
it. Give it me, directly — I'll never forgive you if
you don't ! ''

Hut the more vehemently I insisted, the more he
aggravated my distress by his insulting gleeful laugh.
At length, however, he restored it to me, saying, —

" Well, well, since you value it so much, I'll not
deprive you of it."

fo show him how I valued it I tore it in two and
threw it into the fire. He was not prepared for this.
His merriment suddenly ceasing, he stared in mute
amazement at the consuming treasure ; and then, with
a careless " Humph ! I'll go and shoot now," he

156 THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL

turned on his heel, and vacated the apartment by the
window as he came, and setting on his hat with an
air, took up his gun and walked away, whistling as
he went — and leaving me not too much agitated to
finish my picture, for I was glad, at the moment, that
I had vexed him.

When I returned to the drawing-room, I found Mr
Boarham had ventured to follow his comrades to the
field ; and shortly after lunch, to which they did not
think of returning, 1 volunteered to accompany the
ladies in a walk, and show Annabella and Milicent the
beauties of the country. We took a long ramble and
re-entered the park just as the sportsmen were return-
ing from their expedition. Toil-spent and travel-
stained, the main body of them crossed over the grass
to avoid us, but Mr Huntingdon, all spattered and
splashed as he was, and stained with the blood of his
prey — to the no small offence of my aunt's strict
sense of propriety — came out of his way to meet us
with cheerful smiles and words for all but me, and
placing himself between Annabella Wilmot and myself
walked up the road and began to relate the various
exploits and disasters of the day, in a manner that
would have convulsed me with laughter if I had been
on good terms with him ; but he addressed himself
entirely to Annabella, and I, of course, left all the
laughter and all the badinage to her, and affecting
the utmost indifference to whatever passed between
them, walked along a few paces apart, and looking
every way but theirs, while my aunt and Miliceut
went before, linked arm in arm, and gravely discours-
ing together. At length, Mr Huntingdon turned to
me, and addressing me in a confidential whisper,
said, —

" Helen, why did you burn my picture ?"

" Because J wished to destroy it," I answered, with
an asperity it is useless now to lament.

"Oh, very good!" was the reply, "if you don't
value me, I must turn to somebody that will."

I thought it was partly in jest — a half-playful

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 157

mixture of mock resignation and pretended indiffer-
ence ; but immediately he resumed his place beside
Miss Wilmot, and from that hour to this — during all
that evening, and all the next day, and the next, and
the next, and all this morning (the 22nd), he has
never given me one kind word or one pleasant look —
never spoken to me, but from pure necessity — never
glanced towards me but with a cold unfriendly look
I thought him quite incapable of assuming.

My aunt observes the change, and though she has
not inquired the cause or made any remark to me on
the subject, I see it gives her pleasure. Miss Wilmot
observes it, too, and triumphantly ascribes it to her
own superior charms and blandishments ; but I am
truly miserable — more so than I like to acknowledge
to myself. Pride refuses to aid me. It has brought
me into the scrape, and will not help me out of it.

He meant no harm — it ;was only his joyous, playful
spirit ; and I by my acrimonious resentment — so
serious, so disproportioned to the offence — have so
wounded his. feelings — so deeply offended him, that I
fear he will never forgive me — and all for a mere jest !
He thinks I dislike him, and he must continue to
think so. I must lose him for ever, and Anuabella
may win him, and triumph as she will.

But it is not my loss iior her triumph that I deplore
so greatly as the wreck of my fond hopes for his
advantage, and her unworthiness of his affection, and
the injury he will do himself by trusting his happiness
to her. She does not love him : she thinks only of
herself. She cannot appreciate the good that is in
him : she will neither see it, nor value it, nor cherish
it. She will neither deplore his faults nor attempt
their amendment, but rather aggravate them by her
own. And I doubt whether she will not deceive him
after all. I see she is playing double between him
and Lord Lowborough, and while she amuses herself
with the lively Huntingdon she tries her utmost to
enslave his moody friend ; and should she succeed in
bringing both to her feet, the fascinating commoner

158 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

will have but little chance against the lordly peer.
If he observes her artful by-play it gives him no
uneasiness., but rather adds new zest to his diversion
by opposing a stimulating check to his otherwise too
easy conquest.

Messrs Wilmot and Boarham have severally taken
occasion by his neglect of me to renew their advances ;
and if I were like Annabella and some others I should
take advantage of their perseverance to endeavour to
pique him into a revival of affection ; but, justice and
honesty apart, I could not bear to do it ; I am annoyed
enough by their present persecutions without encour-
aging them further ; and even if I did it would have
precious little effect upon him. He sees me suffering
under the condescending attentions and prosaic dis-
courses of the one, and the repulsive obtrusions of the
other, without so much as a shadow of commiseration
for me, or resentment against my tormentors. He
never could have loved me, or he would not have
resigned me so willingly, and he would not go on
talking to everybody else so cheerfully as he does —
laughing and jesting with Lord Lowborough and my
uncle, teasing Milicent Hargrave, and flirting with
Annabella Wilmot — as if nothing were on his mind.
Oh, why can't I hate him ? I must be infatuated, or I
should scorn to regret him as I do ! But I must rally
all the powers I have remaining, and try to tear him
from my heart. There goes the dinner bell, and here
comes my aunt to scold me for sitting here at my desk
all day instead of staying with the company : wish the
company were — gone.

CHAPTER XIX

TWENTY-SECOND. Night — What have I done? and
what will be the end of it ? I cannot calmly reflect
upon it ; I cannot sleep. I must have recourse to my
diary again ; I will commit it to paper to-night, and see
what I shall think of it to-morrow.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 159

I went down to dinner resolving to be cheerful and
well-conducted, and kept my resolution very creditably,
considering how my head ached, and how internally
wretched I felt — I don't know what is come over me of
late ; my very energies, both mental and physical,
must be strangely impaired, or I should not have acted
so weakly in many respects as I have done ; — but I
have not been well this last day or two : I suppose it
is with sleeping and eating so little, and thinking so
much, and being so continually out of humour. But
to return : I was exerting myself to sing and play for
the amusement, and at the request, of my aunt and
Milicent, before the gentlemen came into the drawing-
room (Miss Wilmot never likes to waste her musical
efforts on ladies' ears alone). Milicent had asked for a
little Scotch song, and I was just in the middle of it
when they entered. The first thing Mr Huntingdon
did, was to walk up to Annabella.

" Now, Miss Wilmot, won't you give us some music
to-night ? " said he. " Do now ! I know you will, when
I tell you that I have been hungering and thirsting
all day for the sound of your voice. Come ! the piano's
vacant."

It was ; for I had quitted it immediately upon hear-
ing his petition. Had I been endowed with a proper
degree of self-possession, I should have turned to the
lady myself, and cheerfully joined my entreaties to
his ; whereby I should have disappointed his expecta-
tions, if the affront had been purposely given, or made
him sensible of the wrong, if it had only arisen from
thoughtlessness ; but I felt it too deeply to do anything
but rise from the music-stool, and throw myself back
on the sofa, suppressing with difficulty the audible
expression of the bitterness I felt within. I knew
Annabella's musical talents were superior to mine, but
that was no reason why I should be treated as a perfect
nonentity. The time and the manner of his asking
her, appeared like a gratuitous insult to me ; and I
could have wept with pure vexation.

Meantime, sne exultingly seated herself at the piano,

160 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

and favoured him with two of his favourite songs, in
such superior style that even I soon lost my anger in
admiration, and listened with a sort of gloomy pleasure
to the skilful modulations of her full-toned and power-
ful voice, so judiciously aided by her rounded and
spirited touch ; and while my ears drank in the sound,
my eyes rested on the face of her principal auditor,
and derived an equal or superior delight from the
contemplation of his speaking countenance, as he stood
beside her — that eye and brow lighted up with keen
•enthusiasm, and that sweet smile passing and appear-
ing like gleams of sunshine 011 an April day. No
wonder he should hunger and thirst to hear her sing.
I now forgave him, from my heart, his reckless slight
•of me, and I felt ashamed at my pettish resentment of
such a trifle — ashamed too of those bitter envious pangs
that gnawed my inmost heart, in spite of all this
admiration and delight.

" There now ! " said she, playfully running her
fingers over the keys, when she had concluded the
second song, ' ' What shall I give you next ? "

But in saying this, she looked back at Lord Low-
borough, who was standing a little behind, leaning
against the back of a chair, an attentive listener, too,
experiencing, to judge from his countenance, much the
same feelings of mingled pleasure and sadness as I did.
But the look she gave him plainly said, "Do you
choose for me now : I have done enough for him, and
will gladly exert myself to gratify you ; " and thus
encouraged, his lordship came forward, and turning
over the music, presently set before her a little song
that I had noticed before, and read more than once,
"with an interest arising from the circumstance of my
connecting it in my mind with the reigning tyrant of
my thoughts. And now with my nerves already ex-
cited and half unstrung, I could not hear those words
so sweetly warbled forth, without some symptoms of
emotion I was not able to suppress. Tears rose un-
bidden to my eyes, and I buried my face in the sof'a-
jrillow that they might flow unseen while I listened.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 161

The air was simple, sweet, and sad, it is still running
in my head, — and so are the words : —

" Farewell to thee ! but not farewell

To all my fondest thoughts of thee :
Within my heart they still shall dwell ;
And they shall cheer and comfort me.

O, beautiful, and full of grace !

If thou hadst never met mine eye,
I had not dreamed a living face

Could fancied charms so far outvie.

If I may ne'er behold again
That form and face so dear to me,

Nor hear thy voice, still would I fain
Preserve, for aye, their memory.

That voice, the magic of whose tone

Can wake an echo in my breast,
Creating feelings that, alone,

Can make my tranced spirit blest.

That laughing eye, whose sunny beam
My memory would not cherish less ; —

And oh, that smile ! whose joyous gleam
No mortal languish can express.

Adieu ! but let me cherish, still,
The hope with which I cannot part.

Contempt may wound, and coldness chill,
But still it lingers in my heart.

And who can tell but Heaven, at last,
May answer all my thousand prayers,

And bid the future pay the past
With joy for anguish, smiles for tears?"

When it ceased, I longed for nothing so much as to
be out of the room. The sofa was not far from the

162 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

door, but I did not dare to raise my head, for I knew
Mr Huntingdon was standing near me, and I knew by
tbe sound of his voice, as he spoke in answer to some
remark of Lord Lowborough's, that his face was turned
towards me. Perhaps, a half suppressed sob had
caught his ear, and caused him to look round — Heaven
forbid ! But, with a violent effort, I checked all
further signs of weakness, dried my tears, and, when I
thought he had turned away again, rose, and instantly
left the apartment, taking refuge in my favourite
resort, the library.

There was no light there but the faint red glow of
the neglected fire ; but I did not want a light ; I only
wanted to indulge my thoughts, unnoticed and undis-
turbed ; and sitting down on a low stool before the
easy chair, I sunk my head upon its cushioned seat,
and thought, and thought, until the tears gushed out
again, and I wept like any child. Presently, however,
the door was gently opened and some one entered the
room. I trusted it was only a servant, and did not
stir. The door was closed again — but I was not alone ;
a hand gently touched my shoulder, and a voice said,
softly, —

" Helen, what is the matter ? "

I could not answer at the moment.

"You must, and shall tell me," was added, more
vehemently, and the speaker threw himself on his
knees beside me on the rug, and forcibly possessed
himself of my hand ; but I hastily caught it away, and
replied, —

" It is nothing to you, Mr Huntingdon."

"Are you sure it is nothing to me?" he returned ;
'fcan you swear that you were not thinking of me
while you wept ? "

This was unendurable. I made an effort to rise, but
he was kneeling on my dress.

' ' Tell me," continued he — " I want to know,—
because, if you were, I have something to say to you,
— and if not, I'll go."

' ' Go then ! " I cried ; but, fearing he would obey too

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 163

well, and never come again, I hastily added — " Or say
what you have to say, and have done with it ! "

"But which?" said he — "for I shall only say it if
you really were thinking of me. So tell me, Helen."

" You're excessively impertinent, Mr Huntingdon ! "

' ' Not at all — too pertinent, you mean — so you won't
tell me? — Well, I'll spare your woman's pride, and,
construing your silence into f Yes,' I'll take it for
granted that I was the subject of your thoughts, and
the cause of your affliction "

" Indeed, sir »

" If you deny it, I won't tell you my secret,"
threatened he ; and I did not interrupt him again —
or even attempt to repulse him, though he had taken
my hand once more, and half embraced me with his
other arm — I was scarcely conscious of it at the time.

" It is this," resumed he ; "that Annabella Wilmot,
in comparison with you, is like a flaunting peony com-
pared with a sweet, wild rosebud gemmed with dew —
and I love you to distraction ! — Now, tell me if that
intelligence gives you any pleasure. Silence again ?
That means yes — Then let me add, that 1 cannot live
without you, and if you answer, No, to this last ques-
tion, you will drive me mad.— Will you bestow your-
self upon me ? — you will ! " he cried, nearly squeezing
me to death in his arms.

"No, no!" I exclaimed, struggling to free myself
from him — " you must ask my uncle and aunt."

'They won't refuse me, if you don't."

' I'm not so sure of that — my aunt dislikes you."

' But you don't, Helen — say you love me, and I'll

go"

' I wish you would go ! " I replied.

' 1 will, this instant, — if you'll only say you love
me."

" You know I do," I answered. And again he
caught me in his arms and smothered me with
kisses.

At that moment, my aunt opened wide the door,
and stood before us, candle in hand, in shocked and

164 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

horrified amazement, gazing alternately at Mr Hunt-
ingdon and me, — for we had both started up, and
now stood wide enough asunder. But his confusion
was only for a moment. Rallying in an instant, with
the most enviable assurance, he began, —

11 1 beg ten thousand pardons, Mrs Maxwell ! Don't
be too severe upon me. Fve been asking your sweet
niece to take me for better, for worse ; and she, like a
good girl, informs me she cannot think of it without
her uncle's and aunt's consent. So let me implore you
not to condemn me to eternal wretchedness : if you
favour my cause, I am safe ; for Mr Maxwell, I am
certain, can refuse you nothing."

" We will talk of this to-morrow, sir," said my aunt,
coldly. "It is a subject that demands mature and
serious deliberation. At present, you had better return
to the drawing-room."

"But meantime," pleaded he, "let me commend
my cause to your most indulgent "

" No indulgence for you, Mr Huntingdon, must
come between me and the consideration of my niece's
happiness."

" Ah, true ! I know she is an angel, and I am a
presumptuous dog to dream of possessing such a trea-
sure ; but, nevertheless, I would sooner die than relin-
quish her in favour of the best man that ever went to
heaven — and as for her happiness, I would sacrifice my
body and soul "

" Body and soul, Mr Huntingdon— sacrifice your
soul ? "

" Well, I would lay down my life "

" You would not be required to lay it down."

" I would spend it, then— devote my life — and all
its powers to the promotion and preservation "

" Another time, sir, we will talk of this — and I
should have felt disposed to judge more favourably of
your pretensions, if you too had chosen another time
and place, and let me add — another manner for your
declaration."

" Why, you see, Mrs Maxwell," he began

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 165

" Pardon me, sir," said she, with dignity — " The
company are inquiring for you in the other room."
And slie turned to me.

"Then you must plead for me, Helen/' said he, and
at length withdrew.

" You had better retire to your room, Helen," said
my aunt, gravely. " I will discuss this matter with
you, too, to-morrow. "

" Don't be angry, aunt," said I.

"My dear, I am not angry," she replied: "I am
surprised. If it is true that you told him you could
not accept his offer without our consent "

" It is true," interrupted I.

" Then how could you permit "

"1 couldn't help it, aunt," I cried, bursting into
tears. They were not altogether the tears of sorrow,
or of fear for her displeasure, but rather the outbreak
of the general tumultuous excitement of my feelings.
But my good aunt was touched at my agitation. In a
softer tone, she repeated her recommendation to retire,
and, gently kissing my forehead, bade me good-night,
and put her candle in my hand ; and I went ; but my
brain worked so, I could not think of sleeping. I feel
calmer now that I have written all this ; and I will go
to bed, and try to win tired nature's sweet restorer.

CHAFFER XX

SKPTEMBKR 24th. — In the morning I rose, light and
cheerful, nay, intensely happy. The hovering cloud
cast over me by my aunt's views, and by the fear of
not obtaining her consent, was lost in the bright
effulgence of my own hopes, and the too delightful
consciousness of requited love. Jt was a splendid
morning ; and I went out to enjoy it, in a quiet ramble
in company with my own blissful thoughts. The dew
was on the grass, and ten thousand gossamers were
waving in the breeze ; the happy red-breast was pour-

166 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

ing out its little soul in song, and my heart over-
flowed with silent hymns of gratitude and praise to
Heaven.

" But I had not wandered far before my solitude was
interrupted by the only person that could have dis-
turbed my musings, at the moment, without being
looked upon as an unwelcome intruder : Mr Hunting-
don came suddenly upon me. So unexpected was the
apparition, that I might have thought it the creation
of an over-excited imagination, had the sense of sight
alone borne witness to his presence ; but immediately
I felt his strong arm round my waist and his warm kiss
on my cheek, while his keen and gleeful salutation,
" My own Helen ! " was ringing in my ear.

" Not yours yet," said I, hastily swerving aside
from this too presumptuous greeting — " remember my
guardians. You will not easily obtain my aunt's con-
sent. Don't you see she is prejudiced against you ? "

' ' I do, dearest ; and you must tell me why, that I
may best know how to combat her objections. I sup-
pose she thinks I am a prodigal," pursued he, observing
that I was unwilling to reply, " and concludes that I
shall have but little worldly goods wherewith to endow
my better half? If so, you must tell her that my pro-
perty is mostly entailed, and I cannot get rid of it.
There may be a few mortgages on the rest — a few
trifling debts and incumbrances here and there, but
nothing to speak of ; and though I acknowledge I am
not so rich as I might be — or have been— still, I think,
we could manage pretty comfortably on what's left.
My father, you know, was something of a miser, and
in his latter days especially, saw no pleasure in life
but to amass riches ; and so it is no wonder that his
son should make it his chief delight to spend them,
which was accordingly the case, until my acquaintance
with you, dear Helen, taught me other views and
nobler aims. And the very idea of having you to
care for under my roof, would force me to moderate
my expenses and live like a Christian — not to speak
of all the prudence and virtue vou would instil into

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 167

my mind by your wise counsels and sweet, attractive
goodness."

" But it is not that," said I, " it is not money my
aunt thinks about. She knows better than to value
worldly wealth above its price."

" What is it then ? "

" She wishes me to — to marry none but a really good
man."

" What, a man of ' decided piety ' ? — ahem ! — Well,
come, I'll manage that too ! It's Sunday to-day, isn't
it ? I'll go to church morning, afternoon, and evening,
and comport myself in such a godly sort that she shall
regard me with admiration and sisterly love, as a brand
plucked from the burning. I'll come home sighing
like a furnace, and full of the savour and unction of
dear Mr Blatant's discourse " — "~

" Mr Leighton," said I, dryly.

" Is Mr Leighton a ' sweet preacher/ Helen — a
' dear, delightful, heavenly-minded man ? ' "

" He is a good man, Mr Huntingdon. I wish I
could say half as much for you."

" Oh, I forgot, you are a saint, too. I crave your
pardon, dearest — but don't call me Mr Huntingdon,
my name is Arthur."

" I'll call you nothing — for I'll have nothing at all to
do with you if you talk in that way any more. If you
really mean to deceive my aunt as you say, you are
very wicked ; and if not, you are very wrong to jest on
such a subject."

"I stand corrected," said he, concluding his laugh
with a sorrowful sigh. "Now," resumed he, after a
momentary pause, " let us talk about something else.
And come nearer to me, Helen, and take my arm ;
and then I'll let you alone. I can't be quiet while I
see you walking there."

I complied ; but said we must soon return to the
house.

"No one will be down to breakfast yet, for long
enough," he answered. " You spoke of your guardians
just now, Helen, but is not your father still living?"

168 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

"Yes, but I always look upon my uncle and aunt as
my guardians, for they are so, in deed, though not in
name. My father has entirely given me up to their
care. I have never seen him since dear mamma died
when I was a very little girl, and my aunt, at her re-
quest, offered to take charge of me, and took me away
to Staningley, where I have remained ever since ; and
I don't think he would ohject to anything for me, that
she thought proper to sanction."

" But would he sanction anything to which she
thought proper to object?"

" No, I don't think he cares enough about me. "

" He is very much to blame — but he doesn't know
what an angel he has for his daughter — which is all the
better for me, as, if he did, he would not be willing to
part with such a treasure."

" And, Mr Huntingdon," said I. " I suppose you
know I am not an heiress ? "

He protested he had never given it a thought, and
begged I would not disturb his present enjoyment by
the mention of such uninteresting subjects. I was glad
of this proof of disinterested affection ; for Annabella
Wilmot is the probable heiress to all her uncle's wealth,
in addition to her late father's property, which she has
already in possession.

I now insisted upon retracing our steps to the house ;
but we walked slowly, and went on talking as we pro-
ceeded. I need not repeat all we said : let me rather
refer to what passed between my aunt and me, after
breakfast, when Mr Huntingdon called my uncle aside,
no doubt to make his proposals, and she beckoned me
into another room, where she once more commenced a
solemn remonstrance, which, however, entirely failed
to convince me that her view of the case was preferable
to my own.

" You judge him uncharitably, aunt, I know," said
I. " His very friends are not half so bad as you
represent them. There is Walter Hargrave, Milicent's
brother, for one ; he is but a little lower than the
angels, if half she says of him is true. She is continu-

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 169^

ally talking to me about him. and lauding his many
virtues to the skies."

" You will form a very inadequate estimate of a
man's character," replied she, " if you judge by what
a fond sister says of him. The worst of them generally
know how to hide their misdeeds from their sisters'
eyes, and their mothers' too."

" And there is Lord Lowborough," continued I,
'•quite a decent man."

"Who told you so? Lord Lowborough is a
desperate man. He has dissipated his fortune in
gambling and other things, and is now seeking an
heiress to retrieve it. I told Miss Wilmot so ; but
you're all alike : she haughtily answered she was very
much obliged to me, but she believed she knew when
a man was seeking her for her fortune, and when for
herself; she flattered herself she had had experience
enough in those matters, to be justified in trusting to
her own judgment — and as for his lordship's lack of
fortune, she cared nothing about that, as she hoped
her own would suffice for both ; and as for his wild-
ness, she supposed he was no worse than others —
besides, he was reformed now. Yes, they can all play
the hypocrite when they want to take in a fond, mis-
guided woman ! "

" Well, I think he's about as good as she is," said I.
" But when Mr Huntingdon is married, he won't have
many opportunities of consorting with his bachelor
friends ; — and the worse they are, the more I long to
deliver him from them."

" To be sure, my dear ; and the worse he is, I
suppose, the more you long to deliver him from
himself."

" Yes, provided he is not incorrigible — that is, the
more I long to deliver him from his faults — to give
him an opportunity of shaking off the adventitious evil
got from contact with others worse than himself, and
shining out in the unclouded light of his own genuine
goodness — to do my utmost to help his better self
against his worse, and make him what he would have

170 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

been if he had not, from the beginning, had a bad,
selfish, miserly father, who, to gratify his own sordid
passions, restricted him in the most innocent enjoy-
ments of childhood and youth, and so disgusted him
with every kind of restraint ; — and a foolish mother
who indulged him to the top of his bent, deceiving her
husband for him, and doing her utmost to encourage
those germs of folly and vice it was her duty to sup-
press,— and then, such a set of companions as you
represent his friends to be "

" Poor man ! " said she sarcastically, " his kind have
greatly wronged him ! "

" They have ! " cried I — " and they shall wrong him
no more — his wife shall undo what bis mother
did!"

•' Well," said she, after a short pause, " I must say,
Helen, I thought better of your judgment than this —
and your taste too. How you can love such a man, I
cannot tell, or what pleasure you can find in his com-
pany ; for ' What fellowship hath light with darkness ;
or he that believeth with an infidel ? ' "

" He is not an infidel ; — and I am not light, and he
is not darkness ; his worst and only vice is thought-
lessness."

" And thoughtlessness," pursued my aunt, " may lead
to every crime, and will but poorly excuse our errors
in the sight of God. Mr Huntingdon, I suppose, is
not without the common faculties of men : he is not so
light-headed as to be irresponsible : his Maker has
endowed him with reason and conscience as well as
the rest of us ; the Scriptures are open to him as well
as to others ; — and ( If he hear not them, neither will
he hear though one rose from the dead.' And remem-
ber, Helen," continued she, solemnly, " ' The wicked
shall be turned into hell, and they that forget God ! '
And suppose, even, that he should continue to love
you, and you him, and that you should pass through
life together with tolerable comfort, — how will it be in
the end, when you see yourselves parted for ever ;
you, perhaps, taken into eternal bliss, and he cast into

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 171

the lake that burneth with unquenchable fire — there
for ever to "

" Not for ever," I exclaimed, ' ' ' only till he has-
paid the uttermost farthing;' for ' If any man's work
abide not the fire, he shall suffer loss, yet himself shall
be saved, but so as by fire ; ' and He that ' is able to
subdue all tinners to himself will have all men to be
saved,' and ' will in the fulness of time, gather to-
gether in one all things in Christ Jesus, who tasted
death for every man, and in whom God will reconcile
all things to himself, whether they be things in earth,
or things in heaven.' "

"Oh, Helen ! where did you learn all this?"

" In the Bible, aunt. I have searched it through,,
and found nearly thirty passages, all tending to support
the same theory."

' ' And is that the use you make of your Bible ? And
did you find no passages tending to prove the danger
and the falsity of such a belief?"

" No : I found, indeed, some passages that, taken by
themselves, might seem to contradict that opinion ;
but they will all bear a different construction to that
which is commonly given, and in most the only diffi-
culty is in the word which we translate 'everlasting'
or * eternal.' I don't know the Greek, but I believe it
strictly means for ages, and might signify either endless
or long-enduring. And as for the danger of the belief,
I would not publish it abroad, if I thought any poor
wretch would be likely to presume upon it to his own
destruction, but it is a glorious thought to cherish in
one's own heart, and I would not part with it for all
the world can give ! "

Here our conference ended, for it was now high time
to prepare for church. Every one attended the morn-
ing service, except my uncle, who hardly ever goes,
and Mr Wilmot, who stayed at home with him to-
enjoy a quiet game of cribbage. In the afternoon Miss
Wilmot and Lord Lowborough likewise excused them-
selves from attending ; but Mr Huntingdon vouchsafed
to accompany us again. Whether it was to ingratiate

172 THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL

himself with my aunt I cannot tell, but, if so, he cer-
tainly should have behaved better. I must confess, I
did not like his conduct during service at all. Holding
his prayer-book upside down, or open at any place but
the right, he did nothing but stare about him, unless
he happened to catch my aunt's eye or mine, and then
he would drop his own on his book, with a puritanical
air of mock solemnity that would have been ludicrous,
if it had not been too provoking. Once, during the
sermon, after attentively regarding Mr Leighton for a
few minutes, he suddenly produced his gold pencil case
and snatched up a Bible. Perceiving that I observed
the movement, he whispered that he was going to make
a note of the sermon ; but instead of that — as I sat next
him I could not help seeing that he was making a
caricature of the preacher, giving to the respectable,
pious, elderly gentleman, the air and aspect of a most
absurd old hypocrite. And yet, upon his return, he
talked to my aunt about the sermon with a degree
of modest, serious discrimination that tempted me to
believe he had really attended and profited by the
discourse.

Just before dinner my uncle called me into the
library for the discussion of a very important matter,
which was dismissed in a few words.

" Now, Nell," said he, "this young Huntingdon has
been asking for you : what must I say about it ? Your
aunt would answer ' No ' — but what say you ? "

" I say yes, uncle," replied I, without a moment's
hesitation ; for I had thoroughly made up my mind on
the subject.

" Very good ! " cried he. " Now that's a good honest
answer — wonderful for a girl ! — Well, I'll write to your
father to-morrow. He's sure to give his consent ; so
you may look on the matter as settled. You'd have
done a deal better if you'd taken Wilmot, I can tell
you ; but that you won't believe. At your time of life,
it's love that rules the roast : at mine, it's solid, service-
able gold. I suppose now, you'd never dream of looking
into the state of your husband's finances, or troubling

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 173

your head about settlements, or anything of that
sort?"

" I don't think I should."

" Well, be thankful, then, that you've wiser heads
to think for you. I haven't had time yet to examine
thoroughly into this young rascal's affairs, but I see
that a great part of his father's fine property has been
squandered away ; — but still, I think there's a pretty
fair share of it left, and a little careful nursing may
make a handsome thing of it yet ; and then we must
persuade your father to give you a decent fortune, ae
he has only one besides yourself to care for ; — and, if
you behave well, who knows but what I may be induced
to remember you in my will ? " continued he, putting
his fingers to his nose, with a knowing wink.

"Thanks, uncle, for that and all your kindness,"
replied I.

" Well, and I questioned this young spark on the
matter of settlements," continued he ; " and he seemed
disposed to be generous enough on that point "

" I knew he would ! " said I. " But pray don't
trouble your head — or his, or mine about that ; for all
1 have will be his, and all he has will be mine ; and
what more could either of us require?" And I was
about to make my exit, but he called me back.

" Stop, stop ! " cried he — " We haven't mentioned
the time yet When must it be? Your aunt would
put it off till the Lord knows when, but he is anxious
to be bound as soon as may be : he won't hear of wait-
ing beyond next month ; and you, I guess, will be of
the same mind, so —

" Not at all, uncle ; on the contrary, I should like
to wait till after Christmas, at least."

" Oh ! pooh, pooh ! never tell me that tale — I know
better," cried he ; and he persisted in his incredulity.
Nevertheless, it is quite true. I am in no hurry at all.
How can 1 be, when I think of the momentous change
that awaits me, and of all I have to leave ? It is happi-
ness enough, to know that we are to be united ; and
that he really loves me, and I may love him as

174 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

devotedly, and think of him as often as I please.
However, I insisted upon consulting my aunt about
the time of the wedding, for I determined her counsels
should not be utterly disregarded ; and no conclusions
on that particular are come to yet.

CHAPTER XXI

OCTOBER 1st. — All is settled now. My father has
given his consent, and the time is fixed for Christmas,
by a sort of compromise between the respective advo-
cates for hurry and delay. Milicent Hargrave is to
be one bridesmaid, and Annabella Wilmot the other —
not that I am particularly fond of the latter, but she
is an intimate of the family, and I have not another
friend.

When I told Milicent of my engagement, she rather
provoked me by her manner of taking it. After staring
a moment in mute surprise, she said, —

" Well, Helen, I suppose I ought to congratulate
you — and I am glad to see you so happy ; but I did
not think you would take him ; and I can't help feeling
surprised that you should like him so much."

"Why so?"

" Because you are so superior to him in every way,
and there's something so bold — and reckless about him
— so, I don't know how — but I always feel a wish to
get out of his way, when I see him approach."

" You are timid, Milicent, but that's no fault of
his."

"And then his look," continued she. " People say
he's handsome, and of course he is, but I don't like
that kind of beauty ; and I wonder that you should. "

" Why so, pray ? "

" Well, you know, I think there's nothing noble or
lofty in his appearance."

" In fact, you wonder why I can like any one so
unlike the stilted heroes of romance ! Well ! give me

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 175

my flesh and blood lover, and I'll leave all the Sir
Herberts and Valentines to you — if you can find them."

" I don't want them," said she. " I'll be satisfied
with flesh and blood too — only the spirit must shine
through and predominate. But don't you think Mr
Huntingdon's face is too red ? *'

" No ! " cried I, indignantly. " It is not red at all.
There is just a pleasant glow — a healthy freshness in
his complexion, the warm, pinky tint of the whole
harmonizing with the deeper colour of the cheeks,
exactly as it ought to do. I hate a man to be red
and white, like a painted doll — or all sickly white,
or smoky black, or cadaverous yellow ! "

" Well, tastes differ — but I like pale or dark,"
replied she. "But, to tell you the truth, Helen, I
had been deluding myself with the hope that you
would one day be my sister. I expected Walter
would be introduced to you next season ; and I
thought you would like him, and was certain he
would like you ; and I flattered myself I should thus
have the felicity of seeing the two persons I like best
in the world — except mamma — united in one. He
mayn't be exactly what you would call handsome,
but he's far more distinguished-looking, and nicer
and better than Mr Huntingdon ; — and I'm sure you
would say so, if you knew him."

" Impossible, Milicent ! You think so, because
you're his sister ; and, on that account, I'll forgive
you ; but nobody else should so disparage Arthur
Huntingdon to me, with impunity."

Miss Wilrnot expressed her feelings on the subject,
almost as openly.

" And so, Helen," said she, coming up to me with a
smile of no amiable import, " you are to be Mrs
Huntingdon, I suppose?'

" Yes," replied I. " Don't you envy me?"

" Oh, dear no I" she exclaimed. " I shall probably
be Lady Lowborough some day, and then you know,
dear, I shall be in a capacity to inquire, ' Uou't you
envy me?'"

176 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" Henceforth, I shall envy no one," returned I.

' ' Indeed ! Are you so happy then ? " said she
thoughtfully ; and something very like a cloud of
disappointment shadowed her face. " And does he
love you — I mean, does he idolize you as much as
you do him ? '' she added, fixing her eyes upon me
with ill-disguised anxiety for the reply.

" I don't want to be idolized," I answered, " but I
am well assured that he loves me more than anybody
else in the world — as I do him."

" Exactly," said she with a nod. " I wish — " she
paused.

" What do you wish ? " asked I, annoyed at the
vindictive expression of her countenance.

' ' I wish," returned she, with a short laugh, " that
all the attractive points and desirable qualifications
of the two gentlemen were united in one — that Lord
Lowborough had Huntingdon's handsome face and
good temper, and all his wit, and mirth and charm,
or else that Huntingdon had Lowborough's pedigree,
and title, and delightful old family seat, and I had
him ; and you might have the other and welcome."

" Thank you, dear Annabella, I am better satisfied
with things as they are, for my own part ; and for you,
I wish you were as well content with your intended, as
I am with mine," said I ; and it was true enough ; for,
though vexed at first at her unamiable spirit, her
frankness touched me, and the contrast between our
situations was such, that I could well afford to pity her
and wish her well.

Mr Huntingdon's acquaintances appear to be no
better pleased with our approaching union than mine.
This morning's post brought him letters from several
of his friends, during the perusal of which, at the
breakfast-table, he excited the attention of the com-
pany, by the singular variety of his grimaces. But he
crushed them all into his pocket, with a private laugh,
and said nothing till the meal was concluded. Then,
while the company were hanging over the fire or
loitering through the room, previous to settling to

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 177

their various morning's avocations, he came and leant
over the back of my chair, with his face in contact
with my curls, and commencing with a quiet little
kiss, poured forth the following complaints into my
ear

" Helen, you witch, do you know that you've entailed
upon me the curses of all my friends? I wrote to
them the other day, to tell them of my happy prospects,
and now, instead of a bundle of congratulations, I've
got a pocket-full of bitter execrations and reproaches.
There's not one kind wish for me, or one good word
for you, among them all. They say there'll be no
more fun now, no more merry days and glorious nights
— and all my fault — I am the first to break up the
jovial band, and others, in pure despair, will follow
my example. I was the very life and prop of the
community, they do me the honour to say, and I have
shamefully betrayed my trust ''

" You may join them again, if you like,'' said I,
somewhat piqued at the sorrowful tone of his discourse.
" I should be sorry to stand between any man — or
body of men, and so much happiness ; and perhaps I
can manage to do without you, as well as your poor
deserted friends."

"Bless you; no," murmured he. "It's 'all for
love or the world well lost,' with me. Let them go to
— where they belong, to speak politely. But if you
saw how they abuse me, Helen, you would love me all
the more, for having ventured so much for your sake."

He pulled out his crumpled letters. I thought he
was going to show them to me, and told him I did
not wish to see them.

"I'm not going to show them to you, love," said
he. "They're hardly fit for a lady's eyes — the most
part of them. But look here. This is Grimsby's
scrawl — only three lines, the sulky dog ! He doesn't
say much, to be sure, but his very silence implies
more than all the others' words, and the less he says,
the more he thinks— and this is Hargrave's missive.
He is particularly grieved at me, because, forsooth, he

178 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

had fallen in love with you from his sister's reports,
and meant to have married you himself, as soon as he
had sown his wild oats."

" I'm vastly obliged to him," observed I.

" And so am I," said he. " And look at this. This
is Hattersley's — every page stuffed full of railing
accusations, bitter curses, and lamentable complaints,
ending up with swearing that he'll get married himself
in revenge : he'll throw himself away on the first old
maid that chooses to set her cap at him, — as if I cared
what he did with himself."

" Well," said I, " if you do give up your intimacy
with these men, I don't think you will have much
cause to regret the loss of their society ; for it's my
belief they never did you much good."

" Maybe not ; but we'd a merry time of it, too,
though mingled with sorrow and pain, as Lowborough
knows to his cost — Ha, ha ! " and while he was laughing
at the recollection of Lowborough's troubles, my uncle
came and slapped him on the shoulder.

" Come, my lad ! " said he. " Are you too busy
making love to my niece, to make war with the
pheasants ! — P'irst of October remember ! — Sun shines
out — rain ceased— even Boarham's not afraid to venture
in his waterproof boots ; and Wilmot and I are going
to beat you all. I declare, we old 'uns are the keenest
sportsmen of the lot ! "

" I'll show you what I can do to-day, however," said
my companion. " I'll murder your birds by wholesale,
just for keeping me away from better company than
either you or them."

And so saying he departed ; and I saw no more of
him till dinner. It seemed a weary time ; I wonder
what I shall do without him.

It is very true that the three elder gentlemen have
proved themselves much keener sportsmen than the
two younger ones ; for both Lord Lowborough and
Arthur Huntingdon have of late almost daily neglected
the shooting excursions, to accompany us in our various
rides and rambles. But these merry times are fast

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 179

drawing to a close. In less than a fortnight the party
break up, much to my sorrow, for every day I enjoy it
more and more — now that Messrs Boarham and Wilmot
have ceased to teaze me, and my aunt has ceased to
lecture me, and I have ceased to be jealous of Anna-
bella — and even to dislike her — and now that Mr
Huntingdon has become my Arthur, and I may enjoy
his society without restraint — What shall I do without
him, I repeat ?

CHAFFER XXII

OCTOBER 5th. — My cup of sweets is not unmingled : it
is dashed with a bitterness that I cannot hide from
myself, disguise it as I will. I may try to persuade
myself that the sweetness overpowers it ; I may call it
a pleasant aromatic flavour ; but say what I will, it is
still there, and I cannot but taste it. I cannot shut
my eyes to Arthur's faults ; and the more I love him
the more they trouble me. His very heart, that I
trusted so, is, I fear, less warm and generous than I
thought it. At least, he gave me a specimen of his
character to-day, that seemed to merit a harder name
than thoughtlessness. He and Lord Lowborough were
accompanying Annabella and me in a long, delightful
ride ; he was riding by my side, as usual, and Anna-
bella ami Lord Lowborough were a little before us, the
latter bending towards his companion as if in tender
and confidential discourse.

"Those two will get the start of us, Helen, if we
don't look sharp," observed Huntingdon. " They'll
make a match of it, as sure as can be. That Low-
borough's fairly besotted. But he'll find himself in a
fix when he's got her, I doubt."

" And she'll find herself in a fix when she's got him,"
-;iid I, " if what I have heard of him is true."

'( Not a bit of it. She knows what she's about ; but
he, poor fool, deludes himself with the notion that
she'll make him a good wife, and because she has

180 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

amused him with some rodomontade about despising
rank and wealth in matters of love and marriage, he
flatters himself that she's devotedly attached to him ;
that she will not refuse him for his poverty, and does
not court him for his rank, but loves him for himself
alone."

" But is not he courting her for her fortune ?"
" No, not he. That was the first attraction, cer-
tainly ; but now he has quite lost sight of it : it never
enters his calculations, except merely as an essential
without which, for the lady's own sake, he could not
think of marrying her. No ; he's fairly in love. He
thought he never could be again, but he's in for it
once more. He was to have been married before,
some two or three years ago ; but he lost his bride by
losing his fortune. He got into a bad way among us
in London : he had an unfortunate taste for gambling ;
and surely the fellow was born under an unlucky star,
for he always lost thrice where he gained once. That's
a mode of self-torment I never was much addicted to.
When I spend my money I like to enjoy the full value
of it : I see no fun in wasting it on thieves and black-
legs ; and as for gaining money, hitherto I have always
had sufficient ; it's time enough to be clutching for
more, I think, when you begin to see the end of what
you have. But I have sometimes frequented the
gaming-houses just to watch the on-goings of those
mad votaries of chance — a very interesting study, I
assure you, Ellen, and sometimes very diverting : I've
had many a laugh at the boobies and bedlamites. Low-
borough was quite infatuated — not willingly, but of
necessity, — he was always resolving to give it up, and
always breaking his resolutions. Every venture was
the 'just once more' : if he gained a little, he hoped
to gain a little more next time, and if he lost, it would
not do to leave off at that juncture ; he must go on till
he had retrieved that last misfortune, at least : bad
luck could not last for ever ; and every lucky hit was
looked upon as the dawn of better times, till experi-
ence proved the contrary. At length he grew desperate,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 181

and we were daily on the look out for a case of felo-de-
se — no great matter, some of us whispered, as his
existence had ceased to be an acquisition to our club.
At last, however, he came to a check. He made a
large stake which he determined should be the last,
whether he lost or won. He had often so determined
before, to be sure, and as often broken his determina-
tion ; and so it was this time. He lost ; and while his
antagonist smilingly swept away the stakes, he turned
chalky white, drew back in silence, and wiped his
forehead. I was present at the time ; and while he
stood with folded arms and eyes fixed on the ground,
I knew well enough what was passing in his mind."

"' Is it to be the last, Lowborough ?' said I, stepping
up to him.

"'The last but one,' he answered, with a grim
smile ; and then, rushing back to the table, he struck
his hand upon it, and, raising his voice high above all
the confusion of jingling coins and muttered oaths and
curses in the room, he swore a deep and solemn oath,
that, come what would, this trial should be the last,
and imprecated unspeakable curses on his head, if ever
he should shuffle a card, or rattle a dice-box again.
He then doubled his former stake, and challenged any
one present to play against him. Grimsby instantly
presented himself. Lowborough glared fiercely at
him, for Grimshy was almost as celebrated for his
luck as he was for his ill-fortune. However, they fell
to work. But Grimsby had much skill and little
scruple, and whether he took advantage of the other's
trembling, blinded eagerness to deal unfairly by him, I
cannot undertake to say ; but Lowborough lost again,
and fell dead sick.

" ' You'd better try once more,' said Grimsby, lean-
ing across the table. And then he winked at me.

" ' I've nothing to try with,' said the poor devil, with
a ghastly smile.

"'Oh, Huntingdon will lend you what you want,'
said the other.

" ' No • you heard mv oath,' answered Lowborough,

182 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

turning away in quiet despair. And I took him by
the arm, and led him out.

" ' Is it to be the last, Lowborough ? ' I asked, when
I got him into the street.

" ' The last/ he answered, somewhat against my
expectation. And I took him home — that is, to our
club — for he was as submissive as a child, and plied
him with brandy-and-water till he began to look rather
brighter — rather more alive, at least.

" ' Huntingdon, I'm ruined ! ' said he, taking the
third glass from my hand — he had drunk the other in
dead silence.

" ' Not you ! ' said I. ' You'll find a man can live
without his money as merrily as a tortoise without its
head, or a wasp without its body.'

" ' But I'm in debt,' said he — ' deep in debt ! And
I can never, never get out of it ! '

" ' Well, what of that ? many a better man than you
has lived and died in debt, and they can't put you in
prison, you know, because you're a peer." And I
handed him his fourth tumbler.

' ' ' But I hate to be in debt ! ' he shouted. ( I wasn't
born for it, and I cannot bear it ! '

"'What can't be cured must be endured,' said I
beginning to mix the fifth.

" 'And then, I've lost my Caroline.' And he began
to snivel then, for the brandy had softened his heart.

" ' No matter,' I answered, ' there are more Carolines
in the world than one.'

" ' There's only one for me,' he replied, with a
dolorous sigh. ' And if there were fifty more, who's
to get them, I wonder, without money?'

" ' Oh, somebody will take you for your title ; and
then you've your family estate yet ; that's entailed, you
know.'

" ' I wish to God I could sell it to pay my debts,' he
muttered.

' ' ' And then,' said Grimsby, who had just come in,
'you can try again, you know. I would have more
than one chance, if I were you. I'd never stop here.'

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 183

" ' 1 won't, I tell you ! ' shouted he. And he started
up, and left the room — walking rather unsteadily, for
the liquor had got into his head. He was not so much
used to it then, but after that, he took to it kindly to
solace his cares.

" He kept his oath about gambling (not a little to
the surprise of us all), though Grimsby did his utmost
to tempt him to break it ; but now he had got hold of
another habit that bothered him nearly as much, for
he soon discovered that the demon of drink was as
black as the demon of play, and nearly as hard to get
rid of — especially as his kind friends did all they
could to second the promptings of his own insatiable
cravings."

"Then, they were demons themselves," cried I,
unable to contain my indignation. " And you, Mr
Huntingdon, it seems, were the first to tempt him."

" Well, what could we do?" replied he, deprecat-
ingly. — "We meant it in kindness — we couldnt bear
to see the poor fellow so miserable : — and besides, he
was such a damper upon us, sitting there, silent and
glum, when he was under the threefold influence of
the loss of his sweetheart, the loss of his fortune, and
the reaction of the last night's debauch ; whereas,
when he had something in him, if he was not merry
himself, he was an unfailing source of merriment to
us. Even Grimsby could chuckle over his odd say-
ings : they delighted him far more than my merry
jests, or Hattersley^s riotous mirth. But, one evening,
when we were sitting over our wine, after one of our
club dinners, and all had been hearty together, —
Lowborough giving us mad toasts, and hearing our
wild songs, and bearing a hand in the applause, if he
did not help us to sing them himself, — lie suddenly
relapsed into silence, sinking his head on his hand,
and never lifting his glass to his lips ; — but this was
nothing new ; so we let him alone, and went on with
our jollification, till, suddenly raising his head, he
interrupted us in the middle of a roar of laughter, by
exclaiming, —

184 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" ' Gentlemen, where is all this to end ? — Will you
just tell me that now ? — Where is it all to end ? ' He
rose.

' ' ' A speech, a speech ! ' shouted we. ' Hear, hear !
Lowborough's going to give us a speech ! '

"He waited calmly till the thunders of applause and
jingling of glasses had ceased, and then proceeded, —

" ( It's only this, gentlemen, — that I think we'd
better go no further. We'd better stop while we can.'

" ' Just so ! ' cried Hattersley —

" Stop, poor sinner, stop and think

Before you further go,
No longer sport upon the brink
Of everlasting woe."

" ' Exactly ! ' replied his lordship, with the utmost
gravity. ' And if you choose to visit the bottomless
pit, I won't go with you — we must part company, for I
swear I'll not move another step towards it ! — What's
this?' he said, taking up his glass of wine.

" ' Taste it,' suggested I.

" ' This is hell broth ! ' he exclaimed. ' I renounce
it for ever ! ' And he threw it out into the middle of
the table.

" ' Fill again ! ' said I, handing him the bottle — ' and
let us drink to your renunciation.'

' ' ' It's rank poison,' said he, grasping the bottle by
the neck, ' and I forswear it ! I've given up gambling,
and I'll give up this too.' He was on the point of de-
liberately pouring the whole contents of the bottle on
to the table, but Hargrave wrested it from him. ' On
you be the curse, then ! ' said he. And, backing from
the room, he shouted, ' Farewell, ye tempters ! ' and
vanished amid shouts of laughter and applause.

" We expected him back among us the next day ;
but, to our surprise, the place remained vacant : we
saw nothing of him for a whole week ; and we really
began to think he was going to keep his word. At
last, one evening, when we were most of us assembled

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 185

together again, he entered, silent and grim as a ghost,
and would have quietly slipped into his usual seat at
my elbow, but we all rose to welcome him, and several
voices were raised to ask what he would have, and
several hands were busy with bottle and glass to serve
him ; but I knew a smoking tumbler of brandy and
water would comfort him best, and had nearly prepared
it, when he peevishly pushed it away, saying, —

" ' Do let me alone, Huntingdon ! Do be quiet, all
of you ! I'm not come to join you : I'm only come to
be with you awhile, because I can't bear my own
thoughts.' And he folded his arms, and leant back in
his chair ; so we let him be. But I left the glass by
him ; and, after a while, Grimsby directed my atten-
tion towards it, by a significant wink ; and, on turning
my head, I saw it was drained to the bottom. He
made me a sign to replenish, and quietly pushed up
the bottle. I willingly complied ; but Lowborough
detected the pantomime, and, nettled at the intelligent
grins that were passing between us, snatched the glass
from my hand, dashed the contents of it in Grimsby's
face, threw the empty tumbler at me, and then bolted
from the room."

" I hope he broke your head," said I.

" No, love," replied he, laughing immoderately at
the recollection of the whole affair, " he would have
done so, — and, perhaps, spoilt my face, too, but, pro-
videntially, this forest of curls " (taking off his hat, and
showing his luxuriant chestnut locks) " saved my skull,
and prevented the glass from breaking, till it reached
the table."

" After that," he continued, " Lowborough kept
aloof from us a week or two longer. I used to meet
him occasionally in the town ; and then, as I was too

Sood-natured to resent his unmannerly conduct, and
e bore no malice against me, — he was never unwilling
to talk to me ; on the contrary, he would cling to me,
and follow me anywhere, — but to the club, and the
gaming-houses, and such like dangerous places of resort
— he was so weary of his own moping, melancholy

186 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

mind. At last, I got him to come in with me to the
club, on condition that I would not tempt him to
drink ; and, for some time, he continued to look in
upon us pretty regularly of an evening, — still abstain-
ing, with wonderful perseverance, from the ' rank
poison ' he had so bravely forsworn. But some of our
members protested against this conduct. They did not
like to have him sitting there like a skeleton at a feast,
instead of contributing his quota to the general amuse-
ment, casting a cloud over all, and watching, with
greedy eyes, every drop they carried to their lips —
they vowed it was not fair ; and some of them main-
tained, that he should either be compelled to do as
others did, or expelled from the society ; and swore
that, next time he showed himself, they would tell him
as much, and, if he did not take the warning, proceed
to active measures. However, I befriended him on
this occasion, and recommended them to let him be for
a while, intimating that, with a little patience on our
parts, he would soon come round again. But, to be
sure, it was rather provoking ; for, though he refused
to drink like an honest Christian, it was well known to
me that he kept a private bottle of laudanum about
him, which he was continually soaking at — or rather,
holding off and on with, abstaining one day, and ex-
ceeding the next — just like the spirits.

" One night, however, during one of our orgies —
one of our high festivals, I mean — he glided in, like
the ghost in Macbeth, and seated himself, as usual, a
little back from the table, in the chair we always
placed for ' the spectre,' whether it chose to fill it or
not. I saw by his face that he was suffering from the
effects of an overdose of his insidious comforter ; but
nobody spoke to him, and he spoke to nobody. A few
sidelong glances, and a whispered observation, that
( the ghost was come,' was all the notice he drew by his
appearance, and we went on with our merry carousals as
before, till he started us all, by suddenly drawing in
his chair, and leaning forward with his elbows on the
table, and exclaiming with portentous solemnity, —

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 187

" ' Well ! it puzzles me what you can find to be so
merry about. What you see in life I don't know — I
see only the blackness of darkness, and a fearful look-
ing for of judgment and fiery indignation ! '

"All the company simultaneously pushed up their
glasses to him, and I set them before him in a semi-
circle, and, tenderly patting him on the back, bid him
drink, and he would soon see as bright a prospect as
any of us ; but he pushed them back, muttering, —

" ' Take them away I I won't taste it, I tell you. I
won't — I won't ! ' So I handed them down again to
the owners ; but I saw that he followed them with a
glare of hungry regret as they departed. Then, he
clasped his hands before his eyes to shut out the sight,
and two minutes after, lifted his head again, and said,
in a hoarse but vehement whisper, —

" ' And yet I must ! Huntingdon, get me a
glass ! '

" ' Take the bottle, man ! ' said I, thrusting the
brandy-bottle into his hand — but stop, I'm telling too
much," muttered the narrator, startled at the look
I turned upon him. " But no matter," he recklessly
added, and thus continued his relation. " In his
desperate eagerness, he seized the bottle and sucked
away, till he suddenly dropped from his chair, dis-
appearing under the table amid a tempest of applause.
The consequence of this imprudence was something
like an apoplectic fit, followed by a rather severe brain
fever "

" And what did you think of yourself, sir ?" said I,
quickly.

" Of course, I was very penitent," he replied. " I
went to see him once or twice — nay, twice or thrice —
or, by'r lady, some four times — and when he got better,
I tenderly brought him back to the fold."

" What do you mean?"

" I mean, I restored him to the bosom of the club,
and compassionating the feebleness of his health and
extreme lowness of his spirits, I recommended him to
' take a little wine for his stomach's sake,' and, when

188 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

he was sufficiently re-established, to embrace the
media-via, ni-jamais-ni-toujours plan — not to kill him-
self like a fool, and not to abstain like a ninny — in a
word, to enjoy himself like a rational creature, and do
as I did ; for don't think, Helen, that I'm a tippler ;
I'm nothing at all of the kind, and never was, and
never shall be. I value my comfort far too much. I
see that a man cannot give himself up to drinking
without being miserable one half his days and mad the
other ; besides, I like to enjoy my life at all sides and
ends, which cannot be done by one that suffers himself
to be the slave of a single propensity — and, moreover,
drinking spoils one's good looks," he concluded with
a most conceited smile that ought to have provoked
me more than it did.

" And did Lord Lowborough profit by your advice ? "
I asked.

" Why, yes, in a manner. For a while, he managed
very well ; indeed, he was a model of moderation and
prudence — something too much so for the tastes of
our wild community ; but, somehow, Lowborough had
not the gift of moderation : if he stumbled a little to
one side, lie must go down before he could right him-
self: if he overshot the mark one night, the effects of
it rendered him so miserable the next day that he
must repeat the offence to mend it ; and so on from
day to day, till his clamorous conscience brought him
to a stand. And then, in his sober moments, he so
bothered his friends with his remorse, and his terrors
and woes, that they were obliged, in self-defence, to
get him to drown his sorrows in wine, or any more
potent beverage that came to hand ; and when his first
scruples of conscience were overcome, he would need
no more persuading, he would often grow desperate,
and be as great a blackguard as any of them could
desire — but only to lament his own unutterable wicked-
ness and degradation the more when the fit was over.

" At last, one day when he and I were alone to-
gether, after pondering awhile in one of his gloomy,
abstracted moods, with his arms folded and his head

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 189

sunk on his breast, he suddenly woke up, and vehe-
mently grasping my arm, said, —

" ' Huntingdon, this won't do ! I'm resolved to
have done with it.'

" ' What, are you going to shoot yourself? ' said I.

" ' No ; I'm going to reform.'

"fOh, that's nothing new! You've been going to
reform these twelve months and more.'

" ' Yes, but yon wouldn't let me ; and I was such
a fool I couldn't live without you. But now I see
what it is that keeps me back, and what's wanted to
save me ; and I'd compass sea and land to get it —
only I'm afraid there's no chance.' And he sighed
as if his heart would break.

" ' What is it, Lowborough ? ' said I, thinking he
was fairly cracked at last.

" ' A wife,' he answered ; ' for I can't live alone,
because my own mind distracts me, and I can't live
with yon, because you take the devil's part against me.'

"'Who 1?'

' ' ' Yes — all of you do — and you more than any of
them, you know. But if I could get a wife, with
fortune enough to pay off my debts and set me straight
in the world '

" ' To be sure,' said I.

" ' And sweetness and goodness enough,' he con-
tinued, ' to make home tolerable, and to reconcile me
to myself, I think I should do, yet. I shall never be
in love again that's certain ; but perhaps that would
be no great matter, it would enable me to choose with
my eyes open — and I should make a good husband in
spite of it ; but could any one be in love with me ? —
that's the question. With your good looks and powers
of fascination,' (he was pleased to say), ' I might hope ;
but as it is, Huntingdon, do you think anybody would
take me — ruined and wretched as I am ? '

" ' Yes, certainly.'

"'Who?'

"'Why, any neglected old maid, fast sinki; in
despair, would be delighted to '

190 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" ' No, no,' said he — ' it must be somebody that I
can love.'

" ' Why, you just said you never could be in love
again ! '

" ' Well, love is not the word — but somebody that I
can like. I'll search all England through, at all
«vents ! ' he cried, with a sudden burst of hope, or
desperation. ' Succeed or fail, it will be better than

rushing headlong to destruction at that d d club :

so farewell to it and you. Whenever I meet you on
honest ground or under a Christian roof, I shall be
glad to see you ; but never more shall you entice me
to that devil's den ! '

" This was shameful language, but I shook hands
with him, and we parted. He kept his word ; and
from that time forward, he has been a pattern of pro-
priety, as far as I can tell ; but, till lately, I have not
had very much to do with him. He occasionally
sought my company, but as frequently shrunk from
it, fearing lest I should wile him back to destruction,
and I found his not very entertaining, especially, as
he sometimes attempted to awaken my conscience and
draw me from the perdition he considered himself to
have escaped ; but when I did happen to meet him, I
seldom failed to ask after the progress of his matri-
monial efforts and researches, and, in general, he
could give me but a poor account. The mothers were
repelled by his empty coffers and his reputation for
gambling, and the daughters by his cloudy brow and
melancholy temper — besides, he didn't understand
them ; he wanted the spirit and assurance to carry
his point.

" I left him at it when I went to the continent ; and
on my return, at the year's end, I found him still a
disconsolate bachelor — though, certainly, looking
somewhat less like an unblest exile from the tomb
than before. The young ladies had ceased to be afraid
of him, and were beginning to think him quite interest-
ing ; but the mammas were still unrelenting. It was
about this time, Helen, that my good angel brought me

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 191

itito conjunction with you ; and then I had eyes and ears
for nobody else. But, meantime, Lowborough became
acquainted with our charming friend, Miss Wilmot —
through the intervention of his good angel, no doubt
he would tell you, though he did not dare to fix his
hopes on one so courted and admired, till after they
were brought into closer contact here at Staningley,
and she, in the absence of her other admirers, in-
dubitably courted his notice and held out every en-
couragement to his timid advances. Then, indeed,
he began to hope for a dawn of brighter days ; and if,
for a while, I darkened his prospects by standing
between him and his sun — and so, nearly plunged him
again into the abyss of despair — it only intensified his
ardour and strengthened his hopes when I chose to
abandon the field in the pursuit of a brighter treasure.
In a word, as I told you, he is fairly besotted. At
first, he could dimly perceive her faults, and they gave
him considerable uneasiness ; but now his passion and
her art together have blinded him to everything but
her perfections and his amazing good fortune. Last
night, he came to me brim-full of his new-found
felicity :

" ' Huntingdon, I am not a cast-away!' said he,
seizing my hand and squeezing it like a vice. ' There
is happiness in store for me, yet — even in this life —
she loves me ! '

" ' Indeed ! ' said I. ' Has she told you so ?'
"'No, but I can no longer doubt it. Do you not
see how pointedly kind and affectionate she is ? And
she knows the utmost extent of my poverty, and cares
nothing about it ! She knows all the folly and all the
wickedness of my former life, and is not afraid to trust
me — and my rank and title are no allurements to her ;
for them she utterly disregards. She is the most
generous, high-minded being that can be conceived of.
She will save me, body and soul, from destruction.
Already, she has ennobled me in my own estimation,
and made me three times better, wiser, greater than I
was. Oh ! if I had but known her before, how much

192 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

degradation and misery I should have been spared !
But what have I done to deserve so magnificent a
creature ? '

" And the cream of the jest," continued Mr
Huntingdon, laughing, " is, that the artful minx
loves nothing about him but his title and pedigree,
and ' that delightful old family seat.'"

" How do you know?" said I.

" She told me so herself ; she said, ' as for the man
himself, I thoroughly despise him ; but then, I suppose,
it is time to be making my choice, and if I waited for
some one capable of eliciting my esteem and affection,
I should have to pass my life in single blessedness, for
I detest you all ! Ha, ha ! I suspect she was wrong
there ; but, however, it is evident she has no love for
him, poor fellow."

" Then you ought io tell him so."

" What ! and spoil all her plans and prospects, poor
girl ? No, no : that would be a breach of confidence,
wouldn't it, Helen ? Ha, ha ! Besides, it would break
his heart." And he laughed again.

" Well, Mr Huntingdon, I don't know what you see
so amazingly diverting in the matter ; I see nothing to
laugh at."

"I'm laughing at you, just now, love," said he, re-
doubling his machinations.

And leaving him to enjoy his merriment alone, I
touched Ruby with the whip, and cantered on to rejoin
our companions ; for we had been walking our horses
all this time, and were consequently a long way behind.
Arthur was soon at my side again ; but not disposed to
talk to him, I broke into a gallop. He did the same ;
and we did not slacken our pace till we came up with
Miss Wilmot and Lord Lowborough, which was within
half a mile of the park gates. I avoided all further
conversation with him, till we came to the end of our
ride, when I meant to jump off my horse and vanish
into the house, before he could offer his assistance ;
but while I was disengaging my habit from the crutch,
he lifted me off, and held me by both hands, asserting

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 193

that he would not let me go till I had forgiven
him.

" I have nothing to forgive/' said I. " You have
not injured me."

"No, darling — God forbid that I should ! but you
are angry, because it was to me that Aunabella con-
fessed her lack of esteem for her lover."

" No, Arthur, it is not that that displeases me : it is
the whole system of your conduct towards your friend ;
and if you wish me to forget it, go, now, and tell him
what sort of a woman it is that he adores so madly, and
on whom he has hung his hopes of future happiness."

" I tell you, Helen, it would break his heart — it
would be the death of him — besides being a scandalous
trick to poor Annabella. There is no help for him
now ; he is past praying for. Besides, she may keep
up the deception to the end of the chapter ; and then
he will be just as happy in the illusion as if it were
reality ; or perhaps, he will only discover his mistake
when he has ceased to love her ; and if not, it is much
better that the truth should dawn gradually upon him.
So now, my angel, I hope I have made out a clear case,
and fully convinced you that I cannot make the atone-
ment you require. What other requisition have you
to make? Speak, and I will gladly obey."

" I have none but this," said I, as gravely as before ;
" that, in future, you will never make a jest of the
sufferings of others, and always use your influence with
your friends for their own advantage against their evil
propensities, instead of seconding their evil propensities
against themselves."

" I will do my utmost," said he, " to remember and
perform the injunctions of my angel monitress ;" and
after kissing both my gloved hands, he let me go.

\Vhen 1 entered my room, I was surprised to see
Annabella \Vilmot standing before my toilet-table,
composedly surveying her features in the glass, with
one hand flirting her gold-mounted whip, and the other
holding up her long habit.

" She certainly is a magnificent creature ! " thought

194 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

1, as I beheld that tall, finely-developed figure, and
the reflection of the handsome face in the mirror before
me, with the glossy dark hair, slightly and not un-
gracefully disordered by the breezy ride, the rich
brown complexion glowing with exercise, and the
black eyes sparkling with unwonted brilliance. On
perceiving me, she turned round, exclaiming, with a
laugh that savoured more of malice than of mirth, —

" Why, Helen ! what have you been doing so long ?
I came to tell you my good fortune," she continued,
regardless of Rachel's presence. " Lord Lowborough
has proposed, and I -have been graciously pleased to
accept him. Don't you envy me, dear ? "

" No, love," said I — " nor him either," I mentally
added. " And do you like him, Annabella ? "

" Like him ! yes, to be sure — over head and ears in
love ! "

" Well, I hope you'll make him a good wife."

"Thank you, my dear ! And what besides do you hope?"

" I hope you will both love each other, and both be
happy. "

" Thanks ; and I hope you will make a very good
wife to Mr Huntingdon ! " said she, with a queenly
bow, and retired.

" Oh, miss ! how could you say so to her ! " cried
Rachel.

" Say what?" replied I.

" Why, that you hoped she would make him a good
wife. I never heard such a thing ! "

" Because, I do hope it — or rather, I wish it — she's
almost past hope."

" Well ! " said she, " I'm sure I hope he'll make her
a good husband. They tell queer things about him
downstairs. They were saying "

" 1 know, Rachel. I've heard all about him ; but
he's reformed now. And they have no business to tell
tales about their masters."

" No, mum — or else, they have said some things
about Mr Huntingdon, too."

" I won't hear them, Rachel ; they tell lies."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 195

" Yes, mum," said she, quietly, as she went on
arranging my hair.

"Do you believe them, Rachel?" I asked, after a
short pause.

" No, miss, not all. You know when a lot of
servants gets together they like to talk about their
betters ; and some, for a bit of a swagger, likes to
make it appear as though they knew more than they
do, and to throw out hints and things just to astonish
the others. But I think if 1 was you, Miss Helen, I'd
look very well before I leaped. I do believe a young
lady can't be too careful who she marries."

" Of course not," said I ; " but be quick, will you,
Rachel ; I want to be dressed."

And, indeed, I was anxious to be rid of the good
woman, for 1 was in such a melancholy frame I could
hardly keep the tears out of my eyes while she dressed
me. It was not for Lord Lowborough — it was not for
Annabella — it was not for myself — it was for Arthur
Huntingdon that they rose.

***** *

13th. — They are gone — and he is gone. We are to
be parted for more than two months — above ten weeks !
a long, long time to live and not to see him. But he
has promised to write often, and made me promise to
write still oftener, because he will be busy settling his
affairs, and I shall have nothing better to do. Well, I
think I shall have always plenty to say. But O ! for
the time when we shall be always together, and can
exchange our thoughts without the intervention of
these cold go-betweens, pen, ink, and paper !
* * * * # *

22nd. — I have had several letters from Arthur,
already. They are not long, but passing sweet, and
just like himself — full of ardent affection, and playful
lively humour; but — there is always a 'but' in this
imperfect world — and I do wish he would sometimes be
serious. I cannot get him to write or speak in real, solid
earnest. I don't much mind it now, but if it be always
so, what shall I do with the serious part of myself?

196 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

CHAPTER XXIII

FEB. 18th, 1822. — Early this morning, Arthur mounted
his hunter and set off in high glee to meet the —
hounds. He will be away all day, and so I will amuse
myself with my neglected diary, if I can give that
name to such an irregular composition. It is exactly
four months since I opened it last.

I am married now, and settled down as Mrs Hunt-
ingdon of Grassdale Manor. I have had eight weeks
experience of matrimony. And do I regret the step I
have taken ? No, though I must confess, in my secret
heart, that Arthur is not what I thought him at first,
and if I had known him in the beginning as thoroughly
as I do now, I probably never should have loved him,
and if I loved him first, and then made the discovery,
I fear I should have thought it my duty not to have
married him. To be sure I might have known him,
for every one was willing enough to tell me about him ,
and he himself was no accomplished hypocrite, but I
was wilfully blind, and now, instead of regretting that
I did not discern his full character before I was indis-
solubly bound to him, I am glad, for it has saved me a
great deal of battling with my conscience, and a great
deal of consequent trouble and pain ; and, whatever I
ought to have done, my duty now is plainly to love
him and to cleave to him, and this just tallies with my
inclination.

He is very fond of me — almost too fond. I could do
with less caressing and more rationality. I should
like to be less of a pet and more of a friend if I might
choose, but I won't complain of that : I am only afraid
his affection loses in depth where it gains in ardour.
I sometimes liken it to a fire of dry twigs and branches
compared with one of solid coal— very bright and hot ;
but if it should burn itself out and leave nothing but
ashes behind, what shall I do ? But it won't — it shan't,
I am determined — and surely I have power to keep it
alive. So let me dismiss that thought at once. But

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 197

Arthur is selfish ; I am constrained to acknowledge
that ; and, indeed, the admission gives me less pain
than might be expected, for, since 1 love him so much,
I can easily forgive him for loving himself ; he likes
to be pleased, and it is my delight to please him, and
when 1 regret this tendency of his it is for his own
sake not for mine.

The first instance he gave was on the occasion of our
bridal tour. He wanted to hurry it over, for all the
continental scenes were already familiar to him : many
had lost their interest in his eyes, and others had never
had anything to lose. The consequence was, that after
a flying transit, through part of France and part of
Italy, I came back nearly as ignorant as I went, having
made no acquaintance with persons and manners, and
very little with things, my head swarming with a motley
confusion of objects and scenes — some, it is true, leaving
a deeper and more pleasing impression than others, but
these embittered by the recollection that my emotions
had not been shared by my companion, but that, on the
contrary, when I had expressed a particular interest in
anything that 1 saw or desired to see, it had been dis-
pleasing to him, inasmuch as it proved that I could take
delight in anything disconnected with himself.

As for Paris, we only just touched at that, and he
would not give me time to see one-tenth of the beauties
and interesting objects of Rome. He wanted to get me
home, he said, to have me all to himself, and to see me
safely installed as the mistress of Grassdale Manor, just
as single-minded, as na'ive, and piquant as I was ; and,
as if I had been some frail butterfly, he expressed him-
self tearful of rubbing the silver off my wings by bringing
me into contact with society, especially that of Paris
and Rome ; and, moreover, he did not scruple to tell
me that there were ladies in both places that would tear
hi> eyes out if they happened to meet him with me.

Of course I was vexed at all this ; but, still, it was
lo-- the disappointment to myself that annoyed me,
than the disappointment in him, and the trouble I was
at to frame excuses to my friends for having seen and

198 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

observed so little, without imputing one particle of
blame to my companion. But when we got home — to
my new, delightful home — I was so happy and he was
so kind that I freely forgave him all ; and I was be-
ginning to think my lot too happy, and my husband
actually too good for me, if not too good for this world,
when, on the second Sunday after our arrival, he shocked
and horrified me by another instance of his unreason-
able exaction. We were walking home from the morning
service, for it was a fine frosty day, and, as we are so
near the church, I had requested the carriage should
not be used.

"Helen," said he, with unusual gravity, "1 am not
quite satisfied with you."

I desired to know what was wrong.

" But will you promise to reform if 1 tell you ? "

' ( Yes, if I can, and without offending a higher
authority."

"Ah 1 there it is, you see, you don't love me with
all your heart."

" I don't understand you, Arthur (at least I hope I
don't) : pray tell me what I have done or said amiss ? "

" It is nothing you have done or said ; it is some-
thing that you are — you are too religious. Now I like
a woman to be religious, and I think your piety one of
your greatest charms, but then, like all other good
things, it may be carried too far. To my thinking, a
woman's religion ought not to lessen her devotion to
her earthly lord. She should have enough to purify
,and etherealize her soul, but not enough to refine away
her heart, and raise her above all human sympathies."

" And am 1 above all human sympathies ? " said I.

c ' No, darling ; but you are making more progress
towards that saintly condition than I like ; for all these
two hours I have been thinking of you and wanting to
catch your eye, and you were so absorbed in your
devotions that you had not even a glance to spare for
,me— UI declare it is enough to make one jealous of one's
Maker- — which is very wrong, you know ; so don't excite
such wicked passions again for my soul's sake."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 199

" I will give my whole heart and soul to my Maker
if I can," I answered, "and not one atom more of it
to you than He allows. What are you, sir, that you
should set yourself upas a god, and presume to dispute
possession of my heart with Him to whom I owe all I
have and all I am, every blessing I ever did or ever
can enjoy — and yourself among the rest — if you are a
blessing, which I am half inclined to doubt."

' ' Don't be so hard upon me, Helen ; and don't pinch
my arm so, you're squeezing your fingers into the
bone."

" Arthur," continued I, relaxing my hold of his arm,
"you don't love me half as much as I do you; and yet,
if you loved me far less than you do I would not com-
plain, provided you loved your Maker more. I should
rejoice to see you at any time so deeply absorbed in
your devotions that you had not a single thought to
spare for me. But, indeed, I should lose nothing by
the change, for the more you loved your God the more
deep and pure and true would be your love to me."

At this he only laughed and kissed my hand, calling
me a sweet enthusiast. Then taking off his hat he
added, —

" But look here, Helen — what can a man do with
such a head as this ? "

The head looked right enough, but when he placed
my hand on the top of it, it sunk in a bed of curls,
rather alarmingly low, especially in the middle.

" You see I was not made to be a saint," said he,
laughing. " If God meant me to be religious, why
didn't he give me a proper organ of veneration ? "

" You are like the servant," I replied, "who, instead
of employing his one talent in his master's service,
restored it to him unimproved, alleging, as an excuse,
that he knew him ' to be a hard man, reaping where he
had not sown, and gathering where he had not straw-oil.'
Of him to whom less is given, less will be required, but
our utmost exertions are required of us all. Yon are
not without the capacity of veneration, and faith and
hope, and conscience and reason, and every other

200 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

requisite to a Christian's character if you choose to
employ them ; but all our talents increase in the using,
and every faculty, both good and bad, strengthens by
exercise : therefore, if you choose to use the bad, or
those which tend to evil till they become your masters,
and neglect the good till they dwindle away, you have
only yourself to blame. But you have talents, Arthur,
natural endowments both of heart and mind and temper,
such as many a better Christian would be glad to
possess, if you would only employ them in God's
service. I should never expect to see you a devotee,
but it is quite possible to be a good Christian without
ceasing to be a happy, merry-hearted man."

" You speak like an oracle, Helen, and all you say
is indisputably true ; but listen here : I am hungry,
and I see before me a good substantial dinner ; I am
told that if I abstain from this to-day I shall have a
sumptuous feast to-morrow, consisting of all manner
of dainties and delicacies. Now in the first place, I
should be loath to wait till to-morrow when I have the
means of appeasing my hunger already before me ; in
the second place, the solid viands of to-day are more to
my taste than the dainties that are promised me ; in
the third place, I don't see to-morrow's banquet, and
how can I tell that it is not all a fable, got up by the
greasy-faced fellow that is advising me to abstain in
order that he may have all the good victual to himself?
in the fourth place, this table must be spread for some-
body, and, as Solomon says, ' Who can eat, or who
else can hasten hereunto more than I ? ' and finally,
with your leave, I'll sit down and satisfy my cravings
of to-day, and leave to-morrow to shift for itself — who
knows but what I may secure both this and that ? "

" But you are not required to abstain from the
substantial dinner of to-day : you are only advised to
partake of these coarser viands in such moderation as
not to incapacitate you from enjoying the choicer
banquet of to-morrow. If, regardless of that counsel,
you choose to make a beast of yourself now, and over-
eat and over-drink yourself till you turn the good

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 201

victuals into poison, who is to blame if, hereafter, while
you are suffering the torments of yesterday's gluttony
and drunkenness, you see more temperate men sitting
down to enjoy themselves at that splendid entertain-
ment which you are unable to taste ? "

" Most true, my patron saint ; but again, our
friend Solomon says, ' There is nothing better for a
man than to eat and to drink, and to be merry.' "

"And again," returned I, "he says, ' Rejoice, O
young man, in thy youth ; and walk in the ways of
thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes : but know
thou, that for all these things, God will bring thee
into judgment.' "

" Well but, Helen, I'm sure I've been very good these
last few weeks. What have you seen amiss in me, and
what would you have me to do ? "

" Nothing more than you do, Arthur : your actions
are all right so far ; but I would have your thoughts
changed ; I would have you to fortify yourself against
temptation, and not to call evil good, and good evil ; I
should wish you to think more deeply, to look further,
and aim higher than you do."

CHAPTER XXIV

MARCH 25th. — Arthur is getting tired — not of me, I
trust, but of the idle, quiet life he leads — and no
wonder, for he has so few sources of amusement : he
never reads anything but newspapers and sporting
magazines ; and when he sees me occupied with a book
he won't let me rest till I close it. In fine weather he
generally manages to get through the time pretty well,
but on rainy days, of which we have had a good many
of late, it is quite painful to witness his ennui. I do
all I can to amuse him, but it is impossible to get him
to feel interested in what I most like to talk about,
while, on the other hand, he likes to talk about things
that cannot interest me — or even that annoy me — and

these please him the most of all ; for his favourite
amusement is to sit or loll beside me on the sofa, and
tell me stories of his former amours, always turning
upon the ruin of some confiding girl or the cozening of
some unsuspecting husband ; and when I express my
horror and indignation he lays it all to the charge of
jealousy, and laughs till the tears run down his cheeks.
I used to fly into passions or melt into tears at first,
but seeing that his delight increased in proportion to
my anger and agitation, I have since endeavoured to
suppress my feelings and receive his revelations in the
silence of calm contempt ; but still he reads the
inward struggle in my face, and misconstrues my
bitterness of soul for his unworthiness into the pangs
of wounded jealousy and when he has sufficiently di-
verted himself with that, or fears my displeasure will
become too serious for his comfort, he tries to kiss and
soothe me into smiles again — never were his caresses
so little welcome as then ! This is double selfishness
displayed to me and to the victims of his former love.
There are times when, with a momentary pang — a
flash of wild dismay, I ask myself, " Helen, what have
you done ? '' But I rebuke the inward questioner, and
repel the obtrusive thoughts that crowd upon me ; for
were he ten times as sensual and impenetrable to good
and lofty thoughts, I well know I have no right to
complain. And I don't and won't complain. I do and
will love him still ; and I do not and will not regret
that I have linked my fate with his.

April 4th. — We have had a downright quarrel. The
particulars are as follows : — Arthur had told me, at
different intervals, the whole story of his intrigue with

Lady F , which I would not believe before. It

was some consolation, however, to find that in this
instance the lady had been more to blame than he,
for he was very young at the time, and she had de-
cidedly made the first advances, if what he said was
true. I hated her for it, for it seemed as if she had
chiefly contributed to his corruption, and when he was
beginning to talk about her the other day, I begged

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 203

he would not mention her, for I detested the very sound
of her name.

" Not because you loved her, Arthur, mind, but
because she injured you and deceived her husband,
and was altogether * very abominable woman, whom
you ought to be ashamed to mention."

But he defended her by saying that she had a doting
old husband, whom it was impossible to love.

"Then why did she marry him?" said I.

" For his money," was the reply.

"Then that was another crime, and her solemn
promise to love and honour him was another, that only
increased the enormity of the last."

" You are too severe upon the poor lady," laughed
he. " But never mind, Helen, I don't care for her
now ; and I never loved any of them half as much as
I do you, so you needn't fear to be forsaken like them."

" If you had told me these things before, Arthur, I
never should have given you the chance."

" Wouldn't you, my darling?"

" Most certainly not ! "

He laughed incredulously.

" I wish I could convince you of it now ! " cried I,
starting up from beside him ; and for the first time in
my life, and I hope the last, I wished I had not married
him.

"Helen," said he, more gravely, "do you know
that if I believed you now I should be very angry?
but thank Heaven I don't Though you stand there
with your white face and flashing eyes, looking at
me like a very tigress, I know the heart within you
perhaps a trifle better than you know it yourself."

Without another word I left the room and locked
myself up in my own chamber. In about half an hour
he came to the door, and first he tried the handle, then
he knocked.

" Won't you let me in, Helen ?" said he.

"No ; you have displeased me," I replied, "and I
don't want to see your face or hear your voice again
till the morning."

204 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

He paused a moment as if dumbfoundered or un-
certain how to answer such a speech, and then turned
and walked away. This was only an hour after dinner :
I knew he would find it very dull to sit alone all the
evening ; and this considerably softened my resentment
though it did not make me relent. I was determined to
show him that my heart was not his slave, and I could
live without him if I chose ; and I sat down and wrote
a long letter to my aunt — of course telling her nothing
of all this. Soon after ten o'clock I heard him come
up again, but he passed my door and went straight to
his own dressing-room, where he shut himself in for
the night.

I was rather anxious to see how he would meet me
in the morning, and not a little disappointed to behold
him enter the breakfast-room with a careless smile.

" Are you cross still, Helen ?" said he, approaching
as if to salute me. I coldly turned to the table, and
began to pour out the coffee, observing that he was
rather late.

He uttered a low whistle and sauntered away to the
window, where he stood for some minutes looking out
upon the pleasing prospect of sullen, grey clouds,
streaming rain, soaking lawn, and dripping, leafless
trees, and muttering execrations on the weather, and
then sat down to breakfast. While taking his coffee
he muttered it was " d d cold."

" You should not have left it so long," said I.

He made no answer, and the meal was concluded
in silence. It was a relief to both when the letter-bag
was brought in. It contained upon examination a
newspaper and one or two letters for him, and a couple
of letters for me, which he tossed across the table
without a remark. One was from my brother, the
other from Milicent Hargrave, who is now in London
with her mother. His, I think, were business letters,
and apparently not much to his mind, for he crushed
them into his pocket with some muttered expletives
that I should have reproved him for at any other time.
The paper, he set before him, and pretended to be

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 205

deeply absorbed in its contents during the remainder
of breakfast, and a considerable time after.

The reading and answering of my letters, and the
direction of household concerns, afforded me ample
employment for the morning : after lunch I got my
drawing, and from dinner till bed-time I read. Mean-
while, poor Arthur was sadly at a loss for something
to amuse him or to occupy his time. He wanted to
appear as busy and as unconcerned as I did : had the
weather at all permitted he would doubtless have
ordered his horse and set off to some distant region —
no matter where — immediately after breakfast, and
not returned till night : had there been a lady any-
where within reach, of any age between fifteen and
forty-five, he would have sought revenge and found
employment in getting up, or trying to get up, a
desperate flirtation with her ; but being, to my private
satisfaction, entirely cut off from both these sources of
diversion, his sufferings were truly deplorable. When
he had done yawning over his paper and scribbling
short answers to his shorter letters, he spent the
remainder of the morning and the whole of the after-
noon in fidgeting about from room to room, watching
the clouds, cursing the rain, alternately petting and
tea/ing and abusing his dogs, sometimes lounging on
the sofa with a book that he could not force himself to
read, and very often fixedly gazing at me when he
thought I did not perceive it, with the vain hope of
detecting some traces of tears, or some tokens of
remorseful anguish in my face. But I managed to
preserve an undisturbed though grave serenity
throughout the day. I was not really angry : I felt
for him all the time, and longed to be reconciled ; but
I determined he should make the first advances, or at
least show some signs of a humble and contrite spirit
first ; for, if I began, it would only minister to his
self-conceit, increase his arrogance, and quite destroy
the lesson I wanted to give him.

He made a long stay in the dining-room after dinner,
and, I fear, took an unusual quantity of wine, but not

206 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

enough to loosen his tongue, for when he came in and
found me quietly occupied with my book, too busy to
lift my head on his entrance, he merely murmured an
expression of suppressed disapprobation, and shutting
the door with a bang, went and stretched himself at
full length on the sofa, and composed himself to sleep.
But his favourite cocker, Dash, that had been lying at
my feet, took the liberty of jumping upon him and
beginning to lick his face. He struck it off with a
smart blow, and the poor dog squeaked, and ran
cowering back to me. When he woke up, about half
an hour after, he called it to him again, but Dash only
looked sheepish and wagged the tip of his tail. He
called again more sharply, but Dash only clung the
closer to me, and licked my hand as if imploring
protection. Enraged at this, his master snatched up
a heavy book and hurled it at his head. The poor dog
set up a piteous outcry and ran to the door. I let him
out, and then quietly took up the book.

" Give that book to me,' said Arthur, in no very
courteous tone. I gave it to him.

( ' Why did you let the dog out ? " he asked. ' ( You
knew I wanted him."

"By what token?" I replied; " by your throwing
the book at him ? but, perhaps, it was intended for
me?"

" No ; but I see you've got a taste of it," said he,
looking at my hand, that had also been struck, and
was rather severely grazed.

I returned to my reading, and he endeavoured to
occupy himself in the same manner ; but, in a little
while, after several portentous yawns, he pronounced
his book to be " cursed trash," and threw it on the
table. Then followed eight or ten minutes of silence,
during the greater part of which, I believe, he was
staring at me. At last his patience was tired out.

" What is that book, Helen ? " he exclaimed.

I told him.

" Is it interesting?"

" Yes, very."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 207

I went on reading, or pretending to read, at least —
I cannot say there was much communication between
my eyes and my brain ; for, while the former ran over
the pages, the latter was earnestly wondering when
Arthur would speak next, and what he would say, and
what I should answer. But he did not speak again
till I rose to make the tea, and then it was only to say
he should not take any. He continued lounging on
the sofa, and alternately closing his eyes and looking
at his watch and at me, till bed-time, when I rose, and
took my candle and retired.

"Helen!" cried he, the moment I had left the
room. I turned back, and stood awaiting his
command.

" What do you want, Arthur ? " I said at length.

" Nothing/ replied he. " Go ! "

I went, but hearing him mutter something as I was
closing the door, I turned again. It sounded very like
"confounded slut," but I was quite willing it should
be something else.

"Were you speaking, Arthur?" I asked.

"No," was the answer, and I shut the door and
departed. I saw nothing more of him till the following
morning at breakfast, when he came down a full hour
after the usual time.

" You're very late," was my morning's salutation.

" You needn't have waited for me," was his ; and he
walked up to the window again. It was just such
weather as yesterday.

"Oh, this confounded rain!" he muttered. But,
after studiously regarding it for a minute or two, a
bright idea seemed to strike him, for he suddenly
exclaimed, "But I know what I'll do!" and then
returned and took his seat at the table. The letter-
bag was already there, waiting to be opened. He
unlocked it and examined the contents, but said
nothing about them.

" Is there anything for me ? " I asked.

"No."

He opened the newspaper and began to read.

208 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" You'd better take your coffee," suggested I ; "it
will be cold again."

" You may go/' said he, " if you've done. I don't
want you."

I rose and withdrew to the next room, wondering if
we were to have another such miserable day as yester-
day, and wishing intensely for an end of these mutually
inflicted torments. Shortly after I heard him ring the
bell and give some orders about his wardrobe that
sounded as if he meditated a long journey. He then
sent for the coachman, and I heard something about
the carriage and the horses, and London, and seven
o'clock to-morrow morning, that startled and disturbed
me not a little.

" I must not let him go to London, whatever comes
of it," said I to myself: " he will run into all kinds of
mischief, and I shall be the cause of it. But the
question is, how am I to alter his purpose ? — Well, I
will wait awhile, and see if he mentions it."

I waited most anxiously, from hour to hour ; but
not a word was spoken, on that or any other subject,
to me. He whistled and talked to his dogs, and
wandered from room to room, much the same as on
the previous day. At last I began to think I must
introduce the subject myself, and was pondering how
to bring it about, when John unwittingly came to my
relief with the following message from the coachman :

" Please, sir, Richard says one of the horses has got
a very bad cold, and he thinks, sir, if you could make
it convenient to go the day after to-morrow, instead of
to-morrow, he could physic it to-day so as '

" Confound his impudence I" interjected the master.

" Please, sir, he says it would be a deal better if you
could," persisted John, " for he hopes there'll be a
change in the weather shortly, and he says it's not
likely, when a horse is so bad with a cold, and physicked
and all "

"Devil take the horse!" cried the gentleman —
"Well, tell him I'll think about it," he added, after a
moment's reflection. He cast a searching glance at

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 209

me, as the servant withdrew, expecting to see some
token of deep astonishment and alarm ; but, being
previously prepared, I preserved an aspect of stoical
indifference. His countenance fell as he met my
steady gaze, and he turned away in very obvious dis-
appointment, and walked up to the fire-place, where
he stood in an attitude of undisguised dejection, leaning
against the chimney-piece with his forehead sunk upon
his arm.

' Where do you want to go, Arthur ? " said I.
' To London," replied he, gravely.
' What for ? " I asked.
'Because I cannot be happy here."
'Why not?"

' Because my wife doesn't love me."
' She would love you with all her heart, if you
deserved it."

" What must I do to deserve it ? "
This seemed humble and earnest enough ; and I was
so much affected, between sorrow and joy, that I was
obliged to pause a few seconds before I could steady
my voice to reply.

" If she gives you her heart," said I, " you must
take it thankfully, and use it well, and not pull it in
pieces, and laugh in her face, because she cannot
snatch it away."

He now turned round and stood facing me, with his
back to the fire.

"Come then, Helen, are you going to be a good
girl ? " said he.

This sounded rather too arrogant, and the smile
that accompanied it did not please me. I therefore
hesitated to reply. Perhaps, my former answer had
implied too much : he had heard my voice falter, and
might have seen me brush away a tear.

" Are you going to forgive me, Helen ? " he resumed,
more humbly.

" Are you penitent ! " I replied, stepping up to him
and smiling in his face.

" Heart-broken ! " he answered, with a rueful coun-

210 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

tenance, yet with a merry smile just lurking within
his eyes and about the corners of his mouth ; hut
this could not repulse me, and I flew into his arms.
He fervently embraced me, and though I shed a
torrent of tears, I think I never was happier in my
life than at that moment.

"Then you won't go to London, Arthur?" I said,
when the first transport of tears and kisses had subsided.

" No, love, — unless you will go with me."

"I will, gladly," I answered, "if you think the
change will amuse you, and if you will put off the
journey till next week."

He readily consented, but said there was no need of
much preparation, as he should not be for staying long,
for he did not wish me to be Londonized, and to lose
my country freshness and originality by too much in-
tercourse with the ladies of the world. I thought this
folly ; but I did not wish to contradict him now : I
merely said that I was of very domestic habits, as he
well knew, and had no particular wish to mingle with
the world.

So we are to go to London on Monday, the day after
to-morrow. It is now four days since the termination
of our quarrel, and I'm sure it has done us both good :
it has made me like Arthur a great deal better, and
made him behave a great deal better to me. He has
never once attempted to annoy me since, by the most
distant allusion to Lady F , or any of those dis-
agreeable reminiscences of his former life — I wish I
could blot them from my memory, or else get him to
regard such matters in the same light as I do. Well !
it is something, however, to have made him see that
they are not fit subjects for a conjugal jest. He may
see further some time — I will put no limits to my
hopes ; and, in spite of my aunt's forebodings and my
own unspoken fears, I trust we shall be happy yet.

THE TENANT OF WJLDFELL HALL 211

CHAPTER XXV

ON the eighth of April, we went to London ; on the
eighth of May I returned, in obedience to Arthur's
wish ; very much against my own, because I left him
behind. If he had come with me, I should have been
very glad to get home again, for he led me such a
round of restless dissipation, while there, that, in that
short space of time, I was quite tired out. He seemed
bent upon displaying me to his friends and acquaint-
ances in particular, and the public in general, on every
possible occasion, and to the greatest possible advan-
tage. It was something to feel that he considered me
a worthy object of pride ; but I paid dear for the
gratification, for in the first place, to please him, I had
to violate my cherished predilections — my almost rooted
principles in favour of a plain, dark, sober style of
dress ; I must sparkle in costly jewels, and deck myself
out like a painted butterfly, just as I had, long since,
determined I would never do — and this was no trifling
sacrifice ; — in the second place, I was continually
straining to satisfy his sanguine expectations and do
honour to his choice, by my general conduct and
deportment, and fearing to disappoint him by some
awlcward misdemeanour, or some trait of inexperienced
ignorance about the customs of society, especially when
I acted the part of hostess, which I was not unfrequently
called upon to do ; and in the third place, as I intimated
before, I was wearied of the throng and bustle, the
restless hurry and ceaseless change of a life so alien to
all my previous habits. At last, he suddenly dis-
covered that the London air did not agree with me,
and I was languishing for my country home, and must
immediately return to Grassdale.

I laughingly assured him that the case was not so
urgent as he appeared to think it, but I was quite
willing to go home if he was. He replied that he
should be obliged to remain a week or two longer, as
he had business that required his presence.

212 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" Then I will stay with you," said I.

' ' But I can't do with you, Helen/' was his answer :
" as long as you stay, I shall attend to you and neglect
my business."

' ' But I won't let you," I returned : " now that I
know you have business to attend to, I shall insist
upon your attending to it, and letting me alone — and,
to tell the truth, I shall be glad of a little rest. I can
take my rides and walks in the park as usual ; and
your business cannot occupy all your time ; I shall see
you at meal-times and in the evenings, at least, and
that will be better than being leagues away and never
seeing you at all."

' ' But, my love, I cannot let you stay. How can I
settle my affairs when I know that you are here,
neglected

" I shall not feel myself neglected : while you are
doing your duty, Arthur, I shall never complain of
neglect. If you had told me before, that you had any-
thing to do, it would have been half done before this ;
and now you must make up for lost time by redoubled
exertions. Tell me what it is ; and I will be your
taskmaster, instead of being a hindrance."

" No, no," persisted the impracticable creature ;
" you must go home, Helen ; I must have the satis-
faction of knowing that you are safe and well, though
far away. Your bright eyes are faded, and that tender,
delicate bloom has quite deserted your cheek."

" That is only with too much gaiety and fatigue."

" It is not, I tell you ; it is the London air : you are
pining for the fresh breezes of your country home —
and you shall feel them, before you are two days older.
And remember your situation, dearest Helen ; on your
health, you know, depends the health, if not the life,
of our future hope."

" Then you really wish to get rid of me ? "

' ' Positively, I do ; and I will take you down myself
to Grassdale, and then return. I shall not be absent
above a week — or fortnight at most."

" But if I must go, I will go alone : if you must stay,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 213

it is needless to waste your time in the journey there
and back."

But he did not like the idea of sending1 me alone.

" Why, what helpless creature do you take me for,"
I replied, " that you cannot trust me to go a hundred
miles in our own carriage with our own footman and
a maid to attend me ? If you come with me I shall
assuredly keep you. But tell me, Arthur, what is this
tiresome business ; and why did you never mention it
before ? "

" It is only a little business with my lawyer," said
he ; and he told me something about a piece of property
he wanted to sell in order to pay off a part of the en-
cumbrances on his estate ; but either the account was
a little confused, or I was rather dull of comprehension,
for I could not clearly understand how that should
keep him in town a fortnight after me. Still less can
I now comprehend how it should keep him a month —
for it is nearly that time since I left him, and no signs
of his return as yet. In every letter he promises to be
with me in a few days, and every time deceives me —
or deceives himself. His excuses are vague and in-
sufficient. I cannot doubt that he is got among his
former companions again — Oh, why did I leave him !
I wish — I do intensely wish he would return !

June 29th. — No Arthur yet; and for many days I
have been looking and longing in vain for a letter.
His letters, when they come, are kind — if fair words
and endearing epithets can give them a claim to the
title — but very short, and full of trivial excuses and
promises that I cannot trust ; and yet how anxiously I
look forward to them ! how eagerly I open and devour
one of those little, hastily-scribbled returns for the
three or four long letters, hitherto unanswered, he has
had from me !

Oh, it is cruel to leave me so long alone ! He knows
I have no one but Rachel to speak to, for we have no
neighbours here, except the Hargraves, whose residence
I can dimly descry from these upper windows im-
bosomed among those low, woody hills beyond the

214 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

Dale. I was glad when I learnt that Milicent was so
near us ; and her company would be a soothing solace
to me now, but she is still in town with her mother :
there is no one at the Grove but little Esther and her
French governess, for Walter is always away. I saw
that paragon of manly perfections in London : he
seemed scarcely to merit the eulogiums of his mother
and sister, though he certainly appeared more con-
versable and agreeable than Lord Lowbo rough, more
candid and high-minded than Mr Grimsby, and more
polished and gentlemanly than Mr Hattersley, Arthur's
only other friend whom he judged fit to introduce to
me. — Oh, Arthur, why won't you come ! why won't
you write to me at least ! You talked about my health
— how can you expect me to gather bloom and vigour
here ; pining in solitude and restless anxiety from day
to day? — It would serve you right to come back and
find my good looks entirely wasted away. I would beg
my uncle and aunt, or my brother, to come and see
me, but I do not like to complain of my loneliness to
them, — and indeed, loneliness is the least of my suffer-
ings ; but what is he doing — what is it that keeps him
away? It is this ever-recurring question and the
horrible suggestions it raises that distract me.

July 3rd. — My last bitter letter has wrung from him
an answer at last, — and a rather longer one than usual ;
but still I don't know what to make of it. He play-
fully abuses me for the gall and vinegar of my latest
effusion, tells me I can have no conception of the
multitudinous engagements that keep him away, but
avers that, in spite of them all, he will assuredly be
with me before the close of next week ; though it is
impossible for a man, so circumstanced as he is, to fix
the precise day of his return : meantime, he exhorts
me to the exercise of patience, " that first of woman's
virtues," and desires me to remember the saying,
" Absence makes the heart grow fonder," and comfort
myself with the assurance that the longer he stays
away, the better he shall love me when he returns ;
and till he does return, he begs I will continue to

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 216

write to him constantly, for, though he is sometimes
too idle and often too busy to answer my letters as they
come, he likes to receive them daily, and if I fulfil my
threat of punishing his seeming neglect by ceasing to
write, he shall be so angry that he will do his utmost
to forget me. He adds this piece of intelligence
respecting poor Milicent Hargrave :

" Your little friend Milicent is likely, before long,
to follow your example, and take upon her the yoke
of matrimony in conjunction with a friend of mine.
Hattersley, you know, has not yet fulfilled his direful
threat of throwing his precious person away on the
first old maid that chose to evince a tenderness for
him ; but he still preserves a resolute determination
to see himself a married man before the year is out :
' Only,' said he to me, ' I must have somebody that
will let me have my own way in everything — not like
your wife, Huntingdon ; she is a charming creature,
but she looks as if she had a will of her own, and
could play the vixen upon occasion ' (I thought,
' you're right there, man,' but I didn't say so). ' I
must have some good, quiet soul that will let me
just do what I like and go where I like, keep at
home or stay away, without a word of reproach or
complaint ; for I can't do with being bothered.'
' Well,' said I, ' I know somebody that will suit you
to a tee, if you don't care for money, and that's
Hargrave's sister, Milicent.' He desired to be intro-
duced to her forthwith, for he said he had plenty of
the needful himself — or should have, when his old
governor chose to quit the stage. So you see, Helen,
I have managed pretty well, both for your friend and
mine."

Poor Milicent ! But I cannot imagine she will ever
be led to accept such a suitor — one so repugnant to
all her ideas of a man to be honoured and loved.

5th. — Alas ! I was mistaken. I have got a long
letter from her this morning, telling me she is already
engaged, and expects to be married before the close of
the month.

216 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" I hardly know what to say about it," she writes,
" or what to think. To tell you the truth, Helen, I
don't like the thoughts of it at all. If I am to be
Mr Hattersley's wife, I must try to love him ; and
I do try with all my might ; but I have made very
little progress yet ; and the worst symptom of the
case is, that the further he is from me the better I
like him : he frightens me with his abrupt manners
and strange hectoring ways, and I dread the thoughts
of marrying him. ' Then why have you accepted him,'
you will ask ; and I didn't know I had accepted him ;
but mamma tells me I have, and he seems to think so
too. I certainly didn't mean to do so ; but I did not
like to give him a flat refusal for fear mamma should
be grieved and angry (for I knew she wished me to
marry him), and I wanted to talk to her first about it,
so I gave him what I thought was an evasive, half-
negative answer ; but she says it was as good as an
acceptance, and he would think me very capricious if
I were to attempt to draw back — and indeed, I was so
confused and frightened at the moment, I can hardly
tell what I said. And next time I saw him, he
accosted me in all confidence as his affianced bride, and
immediately began to settle matters with mamma. I
had not courage to contradict them then, and how can
I do it now ? I cannot : they would think me mad.
Besides, mamma is so delighted with the idea of the
match ; she thinks she has managed so well for me ;
and I cannot bear to disappoint her. I do object
sometimes, and tell her what I feel, but you don't
know how she talks. Mr Hattersley, you know, is
the son of a rich banker, and as Esther and I have
no fortunes, and Walter very little, our dear mamma
is very anxious to see us all well married, that is,
united to rich partners — it is not my idea of being
well married, but she means it all for the best. She
says when I am safe off her hands it will be such a
relief to her mind ; and she assures me it will be a
good thing for the family as well as for me. Even
Walter is pleased at the prospect, and when I con-

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 217

fessed my reluctance to him, he said it was all childish
nonsense. Do you think it nonsense, Helen ? I
should not care if 1 could see any prospect of being
able to love and admire him, but I can't. There is
nothing about him to hang one's esteem and affection
upon ; he is so diametrically opposite to what I ima-
gined my husband should be. Do write to me, and
say all you can to encourage me. Don't attempt to
dissuade me, for my fate is fixed ; preparations for the
important event are already going on around me ; and
don't say a word against Mr Hattersley, for I want to
think well of him ; and though I have spoken against
him myself, it is for the last time : hereafter, I shall
never permit myself to utter a word in his dispraise,
however he may seem to deserve it ; and whoever
ventures to speak slightingly of the man I have pro-
mised to love, to honour, and obey, must expect my
serious displeasure. After all, I think he is quite as
good as Mr Huntingdon, if not better ; and yet, you
love him, and seem to be happy and contented ; and
perhaps I may manage as well. You must tell me, if
you can, that Mr Hattersley is better than he seems —
that he is upright, honourable, and open-hearted — in
fact, a perfect diamond in the rough. He may be all
this, but I don't know him. I know only the exterior
and what I trust is the worst part of him."

She concludes with " Good-bye, dear Helen, I am
waiting anxiously for your advice — but mind you let
it be all on the right side."

Alas ! poor Milicent, what encouragement can I
give you ? or what advice — except that it is better to
make a bold stand now, though at the expense of dis-
appointing and angering both mother and brother,
and lover, than to devote your whole life, hereafter,
to misery and vain regret ?

Saturday, 13th. — The week is over, and he is not
come. All the sweet summer is passing away without
one breath of pleasure to me or benefit to him. And
I had all along been looking forward to this season
with the fond, delusive hope that we should enjoy it so

218 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

sweetly together ; and that, with God's help and my
exertions, it would be the means of elevating his mind,
and refining his taste to a due appreciation of the salu-
tory and pure delights of nature, and peace, and holy love.
But now — at evening, when I see the round, red sun sink
quietly down behind those woody hills, leaving them
sleeping in a warm, red, golden haze, I only think
another lovely day is lost to him and me ; and at
morning, when roused by the flutter and chirp of the
sparrows, and the gleeful twitter of the swallows — all
intent upon feeding their young, and full of life and
joy in their own little frames — I open the window to
inhale the balmy, soul-reviving air, and look out upon
the lovely landscape, laughing in dew and sunshine —
I too often shame that glorious scene with tears of
thankless misery, because he cannot feel its freshening
influence ; and when I wander in the ancient woods,
and meet the little wild-flowers smiling in my path,
or sit in the shadow of our noble ash-trees by the water-
side, with their branches gently swaying in the light
summer breeze that murmurs through their feathery
foliage — my ears full of that low music mingled with
the dreamy hum of insects, my eyes abstractedly gazing
on the glassy surface of the little lake before me, with
the trees that crowd about its bank, some gracefully
bending to kiss its waters, some rearing their stately
heads high above, but stretching their wide arms over
its margin, all faithfully mirrored far, far down in its
glassy depth — though sometimes the images are parti-
ally broken by the sport of aquatic insects, and some-
times, for a moment, the whole is shivered into
trembling fragments by a transient breeze that swept
the surface too roughly — still I have no pleasure ; for
the greater the happiness that nature sets before me,
the more I lament that he is not here to taste it : the
greater the bliss we might enjoy together, the more I
feel our present wretchedness apart (yes, ours ; he must
be wretched, though he may not know it) ; and the
more my senses are pleased, the more my heart is
oppressed ; for he keeps it with him confined amid the

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 219

dust and smoke of London — perhaps, shut up within
the walls of his own abominable club.

But most of all, at night, when I enter my lonely
chamber, and look out upon the summer moon, ' sweet
regent of the sky,' floating above me in the ' black bine
vault of heaven/ shedding a flood of silver radiance
over park, and wood, and water, so pure, so peaceful,
so divine — and think, Where is he now ? — what is he
doing at this moment? wholly unconscious of this
heavenly scene — perhaps, revelling with his boon
companions, perhaps — God help me, it is too — too
much !

23rd. — Thank Heaven, he has come at last ! But
how altered ! flushed and feverish, listless and languid,
his beauty strangely diminished, his vigour and vivacity
quite departed. I have not upbraided him by word or
look ; I have not even asked him what he has been
doing. I have not the heart to do it, for I think he is
ashamed of himself — he must be so indeed, and such
inquiries could not fail to be painful to both. My
forbearance pleases him — touches him even, I am in-
clined to think. He says he is glad to be home again,
and God knows how glad I am to get him back, even
as he is. He lies on the sofa nearly all day long ; and
I play and sing to him for hours together. I write his
letters for him, and get him everything he wants ; and
sometimes I read to him, and sometimes I talk, and
sometimes only sit by him and soothe him with silent
caresses. I know he does not deserve it ; and I fear I
am spoiling him ; but this once, I will forgive him,
freely and entirely. I will shame him into virtue if I
can, and I will never let him leave me again.

He is pleased with my attentions — it may be, grate-
ful for them. He likes to have me near him ; and
though he is peevish and testy with his servants and
his dogs, he is gentle and kind to me. What he would
be, if I did not so watchfully anticipate his wants, and
so carefully avoid, or immediately desist from doing
anything that has a tendency to irritate or disturb
him. with however little reason, I cannot tell. How

220 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

intensely I wish he were worthy of all this care ! Last
night as I sat beside him, with his head in my lap,
passing my fingers through his beautiful curls, this
thought made my eyes overflow with sorrowful tears —
as it often does ; but this time, a tear fell on his face
and made him look up. He smiled, but not insult-
ingly.

" Dear Helen ! " he said — " why do you cry ? you
know that I love you " (and he pressed my hand to his
feverish lips), " and what more could you desire ? "

" Only, Arthur, that you would love yourself, as
truly and as faithfully as you are loved by me."

" That would be hard, indeed ! " he replied, tenderly
squeezing my hand.

August 24th. — Arthur is himself again, as lusty and
reckless, as light of heart and head as ever, and as
restless and hard to amuse as a spoilt child, and almost
as full of mischief too, especially when wet weather
keeps him within doors. I wish he had something to
do, some useful trade, or profession, or employment —
anything to occupy his head or his hands for a few
hours a-day, and give him something besides his own
pleasure to think about. If he would play the country
gentleman, and attend to the farm — but that he knows
nothing about, and won't give his mind to consider, —
or if he would take up with some literary study, or
learn to draw or to play — as he is so fond of music, I
often try to persuade him to learn the piano, but he is
far too idle for such an undertaking : he has no more
idea of exerting himself to overcome obstacles than he
has of restraining his natural appetites ; and these two
things are the ruin of him. I lay them both to the
charge of his harsh yet careless father, and his madly
indulgent mother. If ever I am a mother I will zeal-
ously strive against this crime of over indulgence. I
can hardly give it a milder name when I think of the
evils it brings.

Happily, it will soon be the shooting season, and
then, if the weather permit, he will find occupation
enough in the pursuit and destruction of the partridges

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 221

and pheasants : we have no grouse, or he might have
been similarly occupied at this moment, instead of
lying under the acacia tree pulling poor Dash's ears.
But he says it is dull work shooting alone ; he must
have a friend or two to help him.

" Let them be tolerably decent then, Arthur," said
I. The word "friend," in his mouth, makes me
shudder: I know it was some of his "friends" that
induced him to stay behind me in London, and kept
him away so long — indeed, from what he has un-
guardedly told me, or hinted from time to time, I
cannot doubt that he frequently showed them my
letters, to let them see how fondly his wife watched
over his interests, and how keenly she regretted his
absence ; and that they induced him to remain week
after week, and to plunge into all manner of excesses
to avoid being laughed at for a wife-ridden fool, and,
perhaps, to show how far he could venture to go with-
out danger of shaking the fond creature's devoted
attachment. It is a hateful idea, but I cannot believe
it is a false one.

" Well," replied he, " I thought of Lord Lowborough
for one ; but there is no possibility of getting him
without his better half, our mutual friend, Annabella ;
so we must ask them both. You're not afraid of her,
are you, Helen ? " he asked, with a mischievous twinkle
in his eyes.

" Of course not," I answered : " why should I ? —
And who besides ? "

" Hargrave for one — he will be glad to come, though
his own place is so near, for he has little enough land
of his own to shoot over, and we can extend our de-
predations into it, if we like ; — and he is thoroughly
respectable, you know, Helen, quite a lady's man : —
and I think, Grimsby for another : he's a decent, quiet
fellow enough — you'll not object to Grimsby?"

" I hate him ; but, however, if you wish it, I'll try
to endure his presence for a while."

" All a prejudice, Helen — a mere woman's an-
tipathy."

222 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" No ; I have solid grounds for my dislike. And is
that all ? "

" Why, yes, I think so. Hattersley will be too busy
billing and cooing with his bride to have much time to
spare for guns and dogs, at present," he replied. And
that reminds me, that I have had several letters from
Milicent since her marriage, and that she either is, or
pretends to be, quite reconciled to her lot. She pro-
fesses to have discovered numberless virtues and perfec-
tions in her husband, some of which, I fear, less partial
eyes would fail to distinguish, though they sought them
carefully with tears ; and now that she is accustomed
to his loud voice, and abrupt, uncourteous manners,
she affirms she finds no difficulty in loving him as a
wife should do, and begs I will burn that letter wherein
she spoke so unadvisedly against him. So that I trust
she may yet be happy ; but, if she is, it will be entirely
the reward of her own goodness of heart ; for had she
chosen to consider herself the victim of fate, or of
her mother's worldly wisdom, she might have been
thoroughly miserable ; and if, for duty's sake, she had
not made every effort to love her husband, she would,
doubtless, have hated him to the end of her days.

CHAPTER XXVI

SEPT. 23rd — Our guests arrived about three weeks ago.
Lord and Lady Lowborough have now been married
above eight months ; and I will do the lady the credit
to say that her husband is quite an altered man ; his
looks, his spirits, and his temper, are all perceptibly
changed for the better since I fast saw him. But there
is room for improvement still. He is not always cheer-
ful, nor always contented, and she often complains of
his ill-humour, which, however, of all persons, she
ought to be the last to accuse him of, as he never dis-
plays it against her, except for such conduct as would
provoke a saint. He adores her still, and would go to

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 223

the world's end to please her. She knows her power,
and she uses it too ; but well knowing, that to wheedle
and coax is safer than to command, she judiciously
tempers her despotism with flattery and blandishments
enough to make him deem himself a favoured and a
happy man.

But she has a way of tormenting him, in which I am
a fellow-sufferer, or might be, if I chose to regard my-
self as such. This is by openly, but not too glaringly,
coquetting with Mr Huntingdon, who is quite willing
to be her partner in the game ; but I don't care for it,
because, with him, 1 know there is nothing but per-
sonal vanity, and a mischievous desire to excite my
jealousy, and, perhaps, to torment his friend ; and she,
no doubt, is actuated by much the same motives ; only,
there is more of malice, and less of playfulness, in her
manoeuvres. It is obviously, therefore, my interest to
disappoint them both, as far as I am concerned, by
preserving a cheerful undisturbed serenity through-
out ; and, accordingly, I endeavour to show the fullest
confidence in my husband, and the greatest indiffer-
ence to the arts of my attractive guest. I have neyer
reproached the former but once, and that was for
laughing at Lord Lowbo rough's depressed and anxious
countenance one evening, when they had both been
particularly provoking ; and then, indeed, I said a
good deal on the subject, and rebuked him sternly
enough ; but he only laughed, and said, —

" You can feel for him, Helen — can't you?"

" I can feel for any one that is unjustly treated," I
replied, "and I can feel for those that injure them
too."

" Why, Helen, you are as jealous as he is ! " cried
he, laughing still more ; and I found it impossible to
convince him of his mistake. So, from that time, 1
have carefully refrained from any notice of the subject
whatever, and left Lord Lowborough to take care of
himself. He either has not the sense or the power to
follow my example, though he does try to conceal his
uneasiness as well as he can ; but still, it will appear

224 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

in his face, and his ill-humour will peep out at in-
tervals, though not in the expression of open resent-
ment— they never go far enough for that. But, I
confess, I do feel jealous at times — most painfully,
bitterly so — when she sings and plays to him, and he
hangs over the instrument, and dwells upon her voice
with no affected interest ; for then, I know he is really
delighted, and I have no power to awaken similar
fervour. I can amuse and please him with my simple
songs, but not delight him thus.

28th. — Yesterday, we all went to the Grove, Mr
Hargrave's much neglected home. His mother fre-
quently asks us over, that she may have the pleasure
of her dear Walter's company ; and this time she had
invited us to a dinner party, and got together as many
of the country gentry as were within reach to meet us.
The entertainment was very well got up ; but I could
not help thinking about the cost of it all the time. I
don't like Mrs Hargrave ; she is a hard, pretentious,
worldly-minded woman. She has money enoi'^h to
live very comfortably, if she only knew how to use it
judiciously, and had taught her son to do the same ;
but she is ever straining to keep up appearances, with
that despicable pride that shuns the semblance of
poverty as of a shameful crime. She grinds her
dependants, pinches her servants, and deprives even
her daughters and herself of the real comforts of life,
because she will not consent to yield the palm in out-
ward show to those who have three times her wealth ;
and, above all, because she is determined her cherished
son shall be enabled to " hold up his head, with the
highest gentleman in the land." This same son, I
imagine, is a man of expensive habits — no reckless
spendthrift, and no abandoned sensualist, but one who
likes to have " everything handsome about him," and
to go to a certain length in youthful indulgences— not
so much to gratify his own tastes as to maintain his
reputation as a man of fashion in the world, and a
respectable fellow among his own lawless companions ;
while he is too selfish to consider how many comforts

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 225

might be obtained for his fond mother and sisters with
the money he thus wastes upon himself: as long as
they can contrive to make a respectable appearance
once a-year, when they come to town, he gives himself
little concern about their private stintings and struggles
at home. This is a harsh judgment to form of " dear,
noble-minded, generous-hearted Walter," but I fear
it is too just.

Mrs Margrave's anxiety to make good matches for
her daughters is partly the cause, and partly the result,
of these errors : by making a figure in the world, and
showing them off to advantage, she hopes to obtain
better chances for them ; and by thus living beyond
her legitimate means, and lavishing so much on their
brother, she renders them portionless, and makes them
burdens on her hands. Poor Milicent, I fear, has
already fallen a sacrifice to the manoeuvrings of this
mistaken mother, who congratulates herself on having
so satisfactorily discharged her maternal duty, and
hopes to do as well for Esther. But Esther is a child
as yet — a little merry romp of fourteen : as honest-
hearted, and as guileless and simple as her sister, but
with a fearless spirit of her own, that I fancy her
mother will find some difficulty in bending to her
purposes.

CHAPTER XXVII

OCTOBER 9th. — It was on the night of the 4th, a little
after tea, that Annabel la had been singing and play-
ing, with Arthur as usual at her side : she had ended
her song, but still she sat at the instrument ; and he
stood leaning on the back of her chair, conversing in
scarcely audible tones, with his face in very close
proximity with hers. I looked at Lord Lowborough.
He was at the other end of the room, talking with
Messrs Hargrave and Grimsby ; but I saw him dart
towards his lady and his host, a quick, impatient
glance, expressive of intense disquietude, at which
P

226 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

Grimsby smiled. Determined to interrupt the tete-a-
tete, I rose, and, selecting a piece of music from the
music-stand, stepped up to the piano, intending- to ask
the lady to play it ; but I stood transfixed and speech-
less on seeing her seated there, listening, with what
seemed an exultant smile on her flushed face, to his
soft murmurings, with her hand quietly surrendered
to his clasp. The blood rushed first to my heart, and
then to my head ; for there was more than this ;
almost at the moment of my approach, he cast a
hurried glance over his shoulder towards the other
occupants of the room, and then ardently pressed the
unresisting hand to his lips. On raising his eyes, he
beheld me, and dropped them again, confounded and
dismayed. She saw me too, and confronted me with
a look of hard defiance. I laid the music on the piano,
and retired. I felt ill ; but I did not leave the room :
happily, it was getting late, and could not be long
before the company dispersed. I went to the fire, and
leant my head against the chimney-piece. In a minute
or two, some one asked me if I felt unwell. I did not
answer ; indeed, at the time, I knew not what was
said ; but I mechanically looked up, and saw Mr
Hargrave standing beside me on the rug.

" Shall I get you a glass of wine ? " said he.

" No, thank you," I replied ; and, turning from him,
I looked round. Lady Lowborough was beside her
husband, bending over him as he sat, with her hand on
his shoulder, softly talking and smiling in his face ;
and Arthur was at the table, turning over a book of
engravings. I seated myself in the nearest chair ; and
Mr Hargrave, finding his services were not desired,
judiciously withdrew. Shortly after, the company
broke up, and, as the guests were retiring to their
rooms, Arthur approached me, smiling with the utmost
assurance.

" Are you very angry, Helen ? " murmured he.

te This is no jest, Arthur," said I, seriously, but as
calmly as I could — " unless you think it a jest to lose
my affection for ever."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 227

" What ! so bitter ? " he exclaimed, laughingly,
clasping my hand between both his ; but I snatched it
away, in indignation — almost in disgust, for he was
obviously affected with wine.

"Then I must go down on my knees," said he ; and
kneeling before me, with clasped hands, uplifted in
mock humiliation, he continued imploringly — " Forgive
me, Helen ! — dear Helen, forgive me, and I'll never do
it again !"and, burying his face in his handkerchief,
he affected to sob aloud.

Leaving him thus employed, I took my candle, and,
slipping quietly from the room, hastened up stairs as
fast as I could. But he soon discovered that I had
left him, and, rushing up after me, caught me in his
arms, just as I had entered the chamber, and was about
to shut the door in his face.

" No, no, by heaven, you shan't escape me so ! " he
cried. Then, alarmed at my agitation, he begged me
not to put myself in such a passion, telling me I was
white in the face, and should kill myself if 1 did so.

" Let me go, then," I murmured ; and immediately
he released me — and it was well he did, for I was
really in a passion. I sank into an easy-chair and
endeavoured to compose myself, for I wanted to speak
to him calmly. He stood beside me, but did not
venture to touch me or to speak, for a few seconds ;
then approaching a little nearer, he dropped on one
knee — not in mock humility, but to bring himself
nearer my level, and leaning his hand on the arm of
the chair, he began in a low voice, —

" It is all nonsense, Helen — a jest, a mere nothing
not worth a thought. Will you never learn ? " he
continued more boldly, "that you have nothing to
fear from me? that I love you wholly and entirely ! —
or if," he added with a lurking smile, " I ever give a
thought to another you may well spare it, for those
fancies are here and gone like a flash of lightning,
while my love for you burns on steadily, and for ever
like the sun. You little exorbitant tyrant, will not
that »

228 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

"Be quiet a moment, will you, Arthur," said I,
" and listen to me — and don't think I'm in a jealous
fury: I am perfectly calm. Feel my hand." And I
gravely extended it towards him — but closed it upon hie
with an energy that seemed to disprove the assertion,
and made him smile. ' ' You needn't smile, sir," said I,
still tightening my grasp, and looking steadfastly on
him till he almost quailed before me. " You may
think it all very fine, Mr Huntingdon, to amuse your-
self with rousing my jealousy ; but take care you don't
rouse my hate instead. And when you have once
extinguished my love, you will find it no easy matter
to kindle it again."

" Well, Helen, I won't repeat the offence. But I
meant nothing by it, I assure you. I had taken too
much wine, and I was scarcely myself, at the time."

" You often take too much ; and that is another
practice I detest." He looked up astonished at my
warmth. " Yes," I continued. " I never mentioned
it before, because I was ashamed to do so ; but now
I'll tell you that it distresses me, and may disgust me,
if you go on and suffer the habit to grow upon you,
as it will if you don't check it in time. But the whole
system of your conduct to Lady Lowborough is not
referable to wine ; and this night you knew perfectly
well what you were doing."

" Well, I'm sorry for it," replied he, with more of
sulkiness than contrition : " what more would you
have ? "

" You are sorry that I saw you, no doubt," I
^answered coldly.

" If you had not seen me," he muttered, fixing hie
J eyes on the carpet, " it would have done no harm."

My heart felt ready to burst ; but I resolutely
swallowed back my emotion, and answered calmly,
" You think not ? "

" No," replied he, boldly. " After all, what have I
done? It's nothing — except as you choose to make it
a subject of accusation and distress."

' e What would Lord Lowborough, your friend,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 229

think, if he knew all ? or what would you yourself
think, if he or any other had acted the same part to
me, throughout, as you have to Annabella ? "

" I would blow his brains out."

" Well, then, Arthur, how cm you call it nothing —
an offence for which you would think yourself justified
in blowing another man's brains out? Is it nothing to
trifle with your friend's feelings and mine — to endeavour
to steal a woman's affections from her husband — what
he values more than his gold, and therefore what it is
more dishonest to take r Are the marriage vows a
jest ; and is it nothing to make it your sport to break
them, and to tempt another to do the same? Can I
love a man that does such things, and coolly maintains
it is nothing?"

" You are breaking your marriage vows yourself,"
said he, indignantly rising and pacing to and fro.
" You promised to honour and obey me, and now you
attempt to hector over me, and threaten and accuse me
and call me worse than a highwayman. If it were not
for your situation, Helen, I would not submit to it so
tamely. Iwon't be dictated to by a woman, {hough
~

_

at vvilf you do then ? Will you go on till I
hate you ; and then accuse me of breaking my vows ? "

He was silent a moment, and then replied, —

" You never will hate me." Returning and resum-
ing his former position at my feet, he repeated more
vehemently — "You cannot hate me, as long as I love
you."

" But how can I believe that you love me, if you
continue to act in this way ? Just imagine yourself in
my place : would you think I loved you, if I did so?
Would you believe my protestations, and honour and
trust me under such circumstances ? " ^

" The cases are different," he replied.' " It is a
woman's nature to be constant — to love dfle" and one
only, blindly, tenderly, and for ever — bless them, dear
creatures ! and you above them all — but you must __
have some commiseration for us, Helen ; you must

230 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

give us a little more licence, for as Shakespeare has

it —

' However we do praise ourselves,
Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm,
More longing, wavering, sooner lost and won
Than women's are.' "

" Do you mean by that, that your fancies are lost to
me and won by Lady Lowborough ? "

" No ; Heaven is my witness that I think her mere
dust and ashes in comparison with you, — and shall
continue to think so, unless you drive me from you by
too much severity. She is a daughter of earth ; you
are an angel of heaven ; only be not too austere ill
your divinity, and remember that I am a poor, fallible
mortal. Come now, Helen ; won't you forgive me ? "
he said, gently taking my hand, and looking up with
an innocent smile.

" If I do, you will repeat the offence."

" I swear by "

" Don't swear ; I'll believe your word as well as
your oath.. I wish I could have confidence in either."

' ' Try me, then, Helen : only trust and pardon me
this once, and you shall see ! Come, I am in hell's
torments till you speak the word."

I did not speak it, but I put my hand on his shoulder
and kissed his forehead, and then burst into tears.
He embraced me tenderly ; and we have been good
friends ever since. He has been decently temperate at
table, and well-conducted towards Lady Lowborough.
The first day, he held himself aloof from her, as far as
he could without any flagrant breach of hospitality :
since that, he has been friendly and civil, but nothing
more — in my presence, at least, nor, I think, at any
other time ; for she seems haughty and displeased, and
Lord Lowborough is manifestly more cheerful, and
more cordial towards his host than before. But I shall
be glad when they are gone, for I have so little love for
Annabella that it is quite a task to be civil to her, and
as she is the only woman here besides myself, we are

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 231

necessarily thrown so much together. Next time Mrs
Hargrave calls, I shall hail her advent as quite a
relief. I have a good mind to ask Arthur's leave to
invite the old lady to stay with us till our guests
depart. I think I will. She will take it as a kind
attention, and, though I have little relish for her
society, she will be truly welcome as a third to stand
between Lady Lowborough and me.

The first time the latter and 1 were alone together,
after that unhappy evening, was an hour or two after
breakfast on the following day, when the gentlemen
were gone out after the usual time spent in the writing
of letters, the reading of newspapers, and desultory
conversation. We sat silent for two or three minutes.
She was busy with her work, and I was running over
the columns of a paper from which I had extracted all
the pith some twenty minutes before. It was a
moment of painful embarrassment to me, and I
thought it must be infinitely more so to her ; but it
seems I was mistaken. She was the first to speak ;
and, smiling with the coolest assurance, she began, —

" Your husband was merry last night, Helen : is he
often so?"

My blood boiled in my face ; but it was better she
should seem to attribute his conduct to this than to
anything else.

"No," replied I, "and never will be so again, I trust."

" You gave him a curtain lecture, did you?"

"No; but I told him I disliked such conduct, and
he promised me not to repeat it."

" J thought he looked rather subdued this morning,"
she continued ; "and you, Helen ; you've been weep-
ing I see — that's our grand resource, you know — but
doesn't it make your eyes smart ? — and do you always
find it to answer?"

" I never cry for effect ; nor can I conceive how
any one can."

" Well, I don't know : I never had occasion to try
it ; but I think if Lowborough were to commit sucn
improprieties, Pd make him cry. I don't wonder at

232 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

your being angry, for I'm sure I'd give my husband a
lesson he would not soon forget for a lighter offence
than that. But then he never will do anything of the
kind ; for I keep him in too good order for that."

' ' Are you sure you don't arrogate too much of the
credit to yourself? Lord Lowborough was quite as
remarkable for his abstemiousness for some time
before you married him, as he is now, I have heard."

" Oh, about the wine you mean — yes, he's safe
enough for that. And as to looking askance to another
woman — he's safe enough for that too, while I live,
for he worships the very ground I tread on."

" Indeed ! and are you sure you deserve it ? "

" Why, as to that, I can't say : you know we're all
fallible creatures, Helen ; we none of us deserve to be
worshipped. But are you sure your darling Huntingdon
deserves all the love you give to him ?"

I knew not what to answer to this. I was burning
with anger ; but I suppressed all outward manifesta-
tions of it, and only bit my lip and pretended to
arrange my work.

" At any rate," resumed she, pursuing her advantage,
" you can console yourself with the assurance that
you are worthy of all the love he gives to you."

" You flatter me," said I ; (C but, at least, I can
try to be worthy of it." And then I turned the
conversation.

CHAPTER XXVIII

DECEMBER 25th. — Last Christmas I was a- bride, with
a heart overflowing with present bliss, and full of
ardent hopes for the future — though not unmingled
with foreboding fears. Now I am a wife : my bliss is
sobered, but not destroyed ; my hopes diminished,
but not departed ; my fears increased, but not yet
thoroughly confirmed ; — and, thank Heaven, I am a
mother too... God has sent me a soul to educate for
heaven, and give me a new and calmer bliss, and
stronger hopes to comfort me.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 233

Dec. 25th, 1823.— Another year is gone. My little
Arthur lives and thrives. He is healthy but not
robust, full of gentle playfulness and vivacity, already
affectionate, and susceptible of passions and emotions
it will be long ere he can find words to express. He
has won his father's heart at last ; and now my
constant terror is, lest he should be ruined by that
father's thoughtless indulgence. But I must beware
of my own weakness too, for I never knew till now
how strong are a parent's temptations to spoil an
only child.

I have need of consolation in my son, for (to this
silent paper I may confess it) I have but little in my
husband. I love him still ; and he loves me, in his
own way — but oh, how different from the love I could
have given, and once had hoped to receive ! how
little real sympathy there exists between us ; how
many nfmy thoughts -nnd fffJipgfi are gloomily
cloistered within my own mind ; how much of my
higher and better self is indeed unmarried— doomed
either to harden and sour in the sunless shade of
solitude, or to quite degenerate and fall away for lack
of nutriment in this unwholesome soil ! But, I repeat,
I have no right to complain ; only let me state the
truth — some of the truth at least, — and see hereafter
if any darker truths will blot these pages. We have
now been full two years united — the ' romance ' of our
attachment must be worn away. Surely I have now
got down to the lowest gradation in Arthur's affection,
and discovered all the evils ^f h.jfl natm-o • if there be
any further change, it must be ror the better, as we
become still more accustomed to each other : surely
we shall find no lower depth than this. And, if so,
I can bear it well — as well, at least, as I have borne
it hitherto.

Arthur is not what is commonly called a bad man :
he has many good qualities ; but he is a man without
self-restraint or lofty aspirations — a lover of pleasure,
given up to animal enjoyments : he is not a bad
husband, but his notions of matrimonial duties and

234 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

comforts are not my notions. Judging from appear-
ances, his idea of a wife is a thing to love one devotedly
and to stay at home — to wait upon her husband, and
amuse him and minister to his comfort in every
possible way, while he chooses to stay with her ; and,
when he is absent, to attend to his interests, domestic
or otherwise, and patiently wait his return ; no matter
how he may be occupied in the meantime.

Early in spring, he annouuced his intention of going
to London : his affairs there demanded his attendance,
he said, and he could refuse it no longer. He expressed
his regret at having to leave me, but hoped I would
amuse myself with the baby till he returned.

" But why leave me ? " 1 said. " I can go with you :
I can be ready at any time."

" You would not take that child to town ? "

' ' Yes — why not ? "

The thing was absurd : the air of the town would be
certain to disagree with him, and with me as a nurse ;
the late hours and London habits would not suit me
under such circumstances ; and altogether he assured
me that it would be excessively troublesome, injurious,
and. unsafe. I overruled his objections as well as I
could, for I trembled at the thoughts of his going
alone, and would sacrifice almost anything for myself,
much even for my child, to prevent it ; but at length
he told me, plainly, and somewhat testily, that he
could not do with me : he was worn out with the baby's
restless nights, and must have some repose. I pro-
posed separate apartments ; but it would not do.

" The truth is, Arthur," I said at last, " you are
weary of my company, and determined not to have me
with you. You might as well have said so at once."

He denied it ; but I immediately left the room, and
flew to the nursery to hide my feelings, if I could not
soothe them, there.

I was too much hurt to express any further dissatis-
faction with his plans, or at all to refer to the subject
again, except for the necessary arrangements concern-
ing his departure and the conduct of affairs during his

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 236

absence, till the day before he went, when I earnestly
exhorted him to take care of himself and keep out of
the way of temptation. He laughed at my anxiety,
but assured me there was no cause for it, and promised
to attend to my advice.

" 1 suppose it is no use asking you to fix a day for
your return?" said I.

" VVhy, no ; I hardly can, under the circumstances ;
but be assured, love, I shall not be long away."

" I don't wish to keep you a prisoner at home," I
replied : " I should not grumble at your staying whole
months away — if you can be happy so long without me
— provided I knew you were safe ; but I don't like the
idea of your being there among your friends, as you
call them."

" Pooh, pooh, you silly girl ! Do you think I can't
take care of myself?"

"You didn't last time. — But THIS time, Arthur," I
added, earnestly, " show me that you can, and teach
me that J need not fear to trust you ! "

He promised fair, but in such a manner as we seek
to soothe a child. And did he keep his promise?
No ; — and, henceforth, I can never trust his word.
Bitter, bitter confession ! Tears blind me while I
write. It was early in March that he went, and he
did not return till July. This time he did not trouble
himself to make excuses as before, and his letters were
less frequent, and shorter, and less affectionate, espe-
cially after the first few weeks : they came slower and
slower, and more terse and careless every time. But
still, when I omitted writing he complained of my
neglect. When I wrote sternly and coldly, as I con-
fess I frequently did at the last, he blamed my harsh-
ness, and said it was enough to scare him from his
home : when I tried mild persuasion, he was a little more
gentle in his replies, and promised to return ; but I
had learnt, at last, to disregard his promises.

236 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

CHAPTER XXIX

THOSE were four miserable months, alternating between
intense anxiety, despair, and indignation ; pity for him,
and pity for myself. And yet, through all, I was not
wholly comfortless ; I had my darling, sinless, inoffen-
sive little one to console me, but even this consolation
was embittered by the constantly-recurring thought,
" How shall I teach him hereafter to respect his father,
and yet to avoid his example ? "

But I remembered that I had brought all these
afflictions, in a manner wilfully, upon myself; and I
determined to bear them without a murmur. At the
same time I resolved not to give myself up to misery
for the transgressions of another, and endeavoured to
divert myself as much as I could ; and besides the
companionship of my child, and my dear, faithful
Rachel, who evidently guessed my sorrows and felt for
them, though she was too discreet to allude to them, —
I had my books and pencil, my domestic affairs, and
the welfare and comfort of Arthur's poor tenants and
labourers to attend to ; and I sometimes sought and
obtained amusement in the company of my young
friend Esther Hargrave : occasionally I rode over to
see her, and once or twice I had her .to spend the day
with me at the manor. Mrs Hargrave did not visit
London that season : having no daughter to marry, she
thought it as well to stay at home and economise ;
and, for a wonder, Walter came down to join her in
the beginning of June and stayed till near the close of
August.

The first time I saw him was on a sweet, warm
evening, when I was sauntering in the park with little
Arthur and Rachel, who is head-nurse and lady's-maid
in one — for, with my secluded life and tolerably active
habits, I require but little attendance, and as she had
nursed me and coveted to nurse my child, and was
moreover so very trustworthy, I preferred committing
the important charge to her, with a young nursery-

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 237

maid under her directions, to engaging any one else :
besides, it saves money ; and since 1 have made ac-
quaintance with Arthur's affairs, I have learnt to
regard that as no trifling recommendation ; for, by my
own desire, nearly the whole of the income of my
fortune is devoted, for years to come, to the paying off
of his debts, and the money he contrives to squander
away in London is incomprehensible. — But to return to
Mr Hargrave : — I was standing with Rachel beside the
water, amusing the laughing baby in her arms, with a
twig of willow laden with golden catkins, when, greatly
to my surprise, he entered the park, mounted on his
costly black hunter, and crossed over the grass to meet
me. He saluted me with a very fine compliment,
delicately worded, and modestly delivered withal,
which he had doubtless concocted as he rode along.
He told me he had brought a message from his mother,
who, as he was riding that way, had desired him to
call at the manor and beg the pleasure of my company
to a friendly family dinner to-morrow.

" There is no one to meet but ourselves," said he ;
"but Esther is very anxious to see you; and my
mother fears you will feel solitary in this great house
so much alone, and wishes she could persuade you to
give her the pleasure of your company more frequently,
and make yourself at home in our more humble dwell-
ing, till Mr Huntingdon's return shall render this a
little more conducive to your comfort."

" She is very kind," I answered, " but I am not alone,
yon see ; — and those, whose time is fully occupied,
seldom complain of solitude."

" Will you not come to-morrow, then ? She will be
sadly disappointed if you refuse."

I did not relish being thus compassionated for my
loneliness ; but, however, I promised to come.

" What a sweet evening this is ! " observed he,
looking round upon the sunny park, with its imposing
swell and slope, its placid water, and majestic clumps
of trees. " And what a paradise you live in ! "

" It ie a lovely evening," answered I ; and I sighed

238 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

to think how little I had felt its loveliness, and how
little of a paradise sweet Grassdale was to me — how
still less to the voluntary exile from its scenes.
Whether Mr Hargrave divined my thoughts, 1 cannot
tell, but, with a half-hesitating, sympathising serious-
ness of tone and manner, he asked if I had lately heard
from Mr Huntingdon.

" Not lately," I replied.

"I thought not," he muttered, as if to himself,
loooking thoughtfully on the ground.

" Are you not lately returned from London?" I
asked.

" Only yesterday."

" And did you see him there ? "

" Yes — I saw him."

" Was he well ? "

" Yes — that is," said he, with increasing hesitation
and an appearance of suppressed indignation, " he was
as well as — as he deserved to be, but under circum-
stances I should have deemed incredible for a man so
favoured as he is." He here looked up and pointed
the sentence with a serious bow to me. I suppose my
face was crimson.

" Pardon me, Mrs Huntingdon," he continued,
" but I cannot suppress my indignation when I behold
such infatuated blindness and perversion of taste ; —
but, perhaps you are not aware " He paused.

" I am aware of nothing, sir — except that he delays
his coming longer than I expected ; and if, at present,
he prefers the society of his friends to that of his wife,
and the dissipations of the town to the quiet of country
life, I suppose I have those friends to thank for it.
Their tastes and occupations are similar to his, and I
don't see why his conduct should awaken either their
indignation or surprise."

" You wrong me cruelly," answered he. " I have
shared but little of Mr Huntingdon's society for the
last few weeks ; and as for his tastes and occupations,
they are quite beyond me — lonely wanderer as T am.
Where I have but sipped and tasted, he drains the cup

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 239

to the dregs ; and if ever for a moment I have sought to
drown the voice of reflection in madness and folly, or if
I have wasted too much of my time and talents among
reckless and dissipated companions, God knows I would
gladly renounce them entirely and for ever, if I had
hut half the blessings that man so thanklessly casts
behind his back — but half the inducements to virtue
and domestic orderly habits that he despises — but such
a home, and such a partner to share it ! It is in-
famous ! " he muttered between his teeth. " And
don't think, Mrs Huntingdon," he added aloud, " that
I could be guilty of inciting him to persevere in his
present pursuits ; on the contrary, I have remonstrated
with him again and again, I have frequently expressed
my surprise at his conduct, and reminded him of
his duties and his privileges —but to no purpose; he
only "

" Enough, Mr Hargrave ; you ought to be aware
that whatever my husband's faults may be, it can only
aggravate the evil for me to hear them from a stranger's
lips."

"Am I then a stranger?" said he in a sorrowful
tone. " I am your nearest neighbour, your son's god-
father, and your husband's friend ; may I not be yours
also?"

" Intimate acquaintance must precede real friendship ;
I know but little of you, Mr Hargrave, except from
report."

" Have you then forgotten the six or seven weeks
I spent under your roof last autumn ? I have not
forgotten them. And I know enough of you, Mrs
Huntingdon, to think that your husband is the most
enviable man in the world, and I should be the next
if you would deem me worthy of your friendship."

" If you knew more of me, you would not think it,
or if you did you would not say it, and expect me to be
flattered by the compliment.

I stepped backward as I spoke. He saw that I wished
the conversation to end ; and immediately taking the
hint, he gravely bowed, wished me good evening, and

240 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

turned his horse towards the road. He appeared
grieved and hurt at my unkind reception of his
sympathising overtures. I was not sure that I had
done right in speaking so harshly to him ; but at the
time, I had felt irritated — almost insulted by his
conduct ; it seemed as if he was presuming upon the
absence and neglect of my husband, and insinuating
even more than the truth against him.

Rachel had moved on, during our conversation, to
some yards' distance. He rode up to her, and asked
to see the child. He took it carefully into his arms,
looked upon it with an almost paternal smile, and I
heard him say, as I approached, —

" And this, too, he has forsaken ! "

He then tenderly kissed it, and restored it to the
gratified nurse.

" Are you fond of children, Mr Hargrave ? " said I,
a little softened towards him.

" Not in general," he replied, " but that is such a
sweet child, and so like its mother," he added in a
lower tone.

" You are mistaken there ; it is its father it
resembles."

" Am I not right, nurse ?" said he, appealing to
Rachel.

" I think, sir, there's a bit of both," she replied.

He departed ; and Rachel pronounced him a very
nice gentleman. I had still my doubts on the subject.

In the course of the following six weeks, I met him
several times, but always, save once, in company with
his mother, or his sister, or both. When I called on
them, he always happened to be at home, and, when
they called ou me, it was always he that drove them
over in the phaeton. His mother, evidently, was
quite delighted with his dutiful attentions, and newly-
acquired domestic habits.

The time that I met him alone was on a bright, but
not oppressively hot, day, in the beginning of July : I
had taken little Arthur into the wood that skirts the
park, and there seated him on the moss-cushioned

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 241

roots of an old oak ; and, having gathered a handful
of bluebells and wild roses, I was kneeling before him,
and presenting them, one by one, to the grasp of his
tiny fingers ; enjoying the heavenly beauty of the
flowers, through the medium of his smiling eyes ;
forgetting, for the moment, all my cares, laughing
at his gleeful laughter, and delighting myself with
his delight, — when a shadow suddenly eclipsed the
little space of sunshine on the grass before us ; and
looking up, I beheld Walter Hargrave standing and
gazing upon us.

" Excuse me, Mrs Huntingdon," said he, " but I was
spell-bound ; I had neither the power to come forward ,
and interrupt you, nor to withdraw from the contempla-
tion of such a scene. How vigorous my little godson
grows ! and how merry he is this morning ! " He
approached the child, and stooped to take his hand ;
but, on seeing that his caresses were likely to produce
tears and lamentations, instead of a reciprocation of
friendly demonstrations, he prudently drew back.

" What a pleasure and comfort that little creature
must be to you, Mrs Huntingdon ! " he observed, with
a touch of sadness in his intonation, as he admiringly
contemplated the infant.

" It is," replied I ; and then I asked after his mother
and sister.

He politely answered my inquiries, and then re-
turned again to the subject I wished to avoid ; though
with a degree of timidity that witnessed his fear to
offend.

" You have not heard from Huntingdon lately? " he
said.

" Not this week," I replied. Not these three weeks,
I might have said.

" I had a letter from him this morning. I wish it
were such a one as I could show to his lady." He
half drew from his waistcoat pocket a letter with
Arthur's still-beloved hand on the address, scowled at
it, and put it back again, adding — " But he tells me
he is about to return next week."

242 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" He tells me so every time he writes."

" Indeed ! — Well it is like him. But to me he
always avowed it his intention to stay till the present
month."

tt struck me like a blow, this proof of premeditated
trangression and systematic disregard of truth.

" It is only of a piece with the rest of his conduct,"
observed Mr Hargrave, thoughtfully regarding me,
and reading, I suppose, my feelings in my face.

" Then he is really coming next week ? " said I,
after a pause.

" You may rely upon it, if the assurance can give
you any pleasure. And is it possible, Mrs Huntingdon,
that you can rejoice at his return ? " he exclaimed,
attentively perusing my features again.

te Of course, Mr Hargrave ; is he not my husband ? "

'"' Oh, Huntingdon ; you know not what you slight ! "

he passionately murmured.
I took up mv

up my baby, and, wishing him good morning,
departed, to indulge my thoughts unscrutinised, within
the sanctum of my home.

And was I glad ? Yes, delighted ; though I was
angered by Arthur's conduct, and though I felt that he
had wronged me, and was determined he should feel
it too.

CHAPTER XXX

ON the following morning, I received a few lines
from him myself, confirming Hargrave's intimations
respecting his approaching return. And he did come
next week, but in a condition of body and mind even
worse than before. I did not, however, intend to pass
over his derelictions this time without a remark ; — I
found it would not do. But the first day he was
weary with his journey, and I was glad to get him
back : I would not upbraid him then ; I would wait
till to-morrow. Next morning he was weary still :
I would wait a little longer. But at dinner, when,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 243

after breakfasting at twelve o'clock on a bottle of soda-
water and a cup of strong coffee, and lunching at two
on another bottle of soda-water mingled with brandy,
he was finding fault with everything on the table, and
declaring we must change our cook — I thought the
time was come.

" It is the same cook as we had before you went,
Arthur," said I. " You were generally pretty well
satisfied with her then."

" You must have been letting her get into slovenly
habits then, while I was away. It is enough to poison
one, eating such a disgusting mess ! " And he pettishly
pushed away his plate, and leant back despairingly in
his chair.

" I think it is you that are changed, not she," said I,
but with the utmost gentleness, for I did not wish to
irritate him.

" It may be so," he replied carelessly, as he seized a
tumbler of wine and water, adding, when he had tossed
it off, " for I have an infernal fire in my veins, that all
the waters of the ocean cannot quench ! "

" What kindled it ? " I was about to ask, but at that
moment the butler entered and began to take away the
things.

" Be quick, Benson ; do have done with that infernal
clatter ! " cried his master. " And don't bring the
cheese, unless you want to make me sick outright ! "

Benson, in some surprise, removed the cheese, and
did his best to effect a quiet and speedy clearance of
the rest, but, unfortunately, there was a rumple in the
carpet, caused by the hasty pushing back of his master's
chair, at which he tripped and stumbled, causing a
rather alarming concussion with the trayful of crockery
in his hands, but no positive damage, save the fall and
breaking of a sauce tureen ; but, to my unspeakable
shame and dismay, Arthur turned furiously around
upon him, and swore at him with savage coarseness.
The poor man turned pale, and visibly trembled as he
stooped to pick up the fragments.

"He couldn't help it, Arthur," said I ; " the carpet

244 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

caught his foot, and there's no great harm done. Never
mind the pieces now, Benson, you can clear them away
afterwards."

Glad to be released, Benson expeditiously set out the
dessert and withdrew.

"What could you mean, Helen, by taking the
servant's part against me," said Arthur, as soon as the
door was closed, "when you knew I was distracted?"

11 1 did not know you were distracted, Arthur, and
the poor man was quite frightened and hurt at your
sudden explosion."

" Poor man, indeed ! and do you think I could stop
to consider the feeling of an insensate brute like that,
when my own nerves were racked and torn to pieces by
his confounded blunders?''

" I never heard you complain of your nerves before."

" And why shouldn't I have nerves as well as you ?"

" Oh, I don't dispute your claim to their possession,
but I never complain of mine."

' ' No — how should you, when you never do anything
to try them?"

" Then why do you try yours, Arthur ? "

" Do you think I have nothing to do but to stay at
home and take care of myself like a woman ? "

" Is it impossible, then, to take care of yourself like
a man when you go abroad ? You told me that you
could — and would too ; and you promised "

"Come, come, Helen, don't begin with that non-
sense now ; I can't bear it."

" Can't bear what ? — to be reminded of the promises
you have broken?"

" Helen, you are cruel. If you knew how my heart
throbbed, and how every nerve thrilled through me
while you spoke, you would spare me. You can pity a
dolt of a servant for breaking a dish ; but you have no
compassion for me, when my head is split in two and
all on fire with this consuming fever."

He leant his head on his hand, and sighed. I went
to him and put my hand on his forehead. It was
burning indeed.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 246

"Then come with me into the drawing-room,
Arthur ; and don't take any more wine ; you have
taken several glasses since dinner, and eaten next to
nothing all the day. How can that make you better? "

With some coaxing and persuasion, I got him to
leave the table. When the baby was brought I tried
to amuse him with that ; but poor little Arthur was
cutting his teeth, and his father could not bear his
complaints ; sentence of immediate banishment was
passed upon him on the first indication of fretfulness ;
and because, in the course of the evening, I went to
share his exile for a little while, I was reproached, on
my return, for preferring my child to my husband. I
found the latter reclining on the sofa just as I had
left him.

"Well!" exclaimed the injured man, in a tone of
pseudo resignation. " I thought I wouldn't send for
you ; I thought I'd just see — how long it would please
you to leave me alone."

"I have not been very long, have I, Arthur? I
have not been an hour, I'm sure."

" Oh, of course, an hour is nothing to you, so
pleasantly employed ; but to me "

" It has not been pleasantly employed/' interrupted
I. " I have been nursing our poor little baby, who is
very far from well, and I could not leave him till I got
him to sleep."

" Oh, to be sure, you're overflowing with kindness
and pity for everything but me."

t( And why should I pity you ? what is the matter
with you ? "

" Well ! that passes everything ! After all the wear
and tear that I've had, when I come home sick and
weary, longing for comfort, and expecting to find
attention and kindness, at least, from my wife, — she
calmly asks what is the matter with me ! "

"There is nothing the matter with you," returned I,
"except what you have wilfully brought upon yourself
against my earnest exhortation and entreaty."

" Now, Helen," said he, emphatically, half rising

246 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

from his recumbent posture, " if you bother me with
another word, I'll ring the bell and order six bottles of
wine — and, by Heaven, I'll drink them dry before I
stir from this place ! "

I said no more, but sat down before the table and
drew a book towards me.

" Do let me have quietness at least ! " continued he,
"if you deny me every other comfort," and sinking
back into his former position, with an impatient ex-
piration between a sigh and a groan, he languidly
closed his eyes as if to sleep.

What the book was, that lay open on the table
before me, I cannot tell, for I never looked at it.
With an elbow on each side of it, and my hands
clasped before my eyes, I delivered myself up to silent
weeping. But Arthur was not asleep : at the first
slight sob, he raised his head and looked round, im-
patiently exclaiming, —

" What are you crying for, Helen ? What the deuce
is the matter now ? "

"I'm crying for you, Arthur," I replied, speedily
drying my tears ; and starting up, I threw myself on
my knees before him, and, clasping his nerveless hand
between my own, continued : " Don't you know that
you are a part of myself? And do you think you can
injure and degrade yourself, and I not feel it ? "

" Degrade myself, Helen ? "

" Yes, degrade ! What have you been doing all
this time ? "

" You'd better not ask," said he, with a faint smile.

"And you had better not tell ; but you cannot deny
that you have degraded yourself miserably. You have
shamefully wronged yourself, body and soul, and me
too ; and I can't endure it quietly — and I won't ! "

" Well, don't squeeze my hand so frantically, and
don't agitate me so, for Heaven's sake ! Oh, Hatter-
sley ! you were right ; this woman will be the death of
me, with her keen feelings and her interesting force of
character. There, there, do spare me a little."

" Arthur, you must repent ! " cried I, in a frenzy of

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 247

desperation, throwing my arms around him and bury-
ing my face in his bosom. " You shall say you are
sorry for what you have done ! "

" Well, well, I am."

" You are not ! you'll do it again."

" I shall never live to do it again, if you treat me so
savagely/' replied he, pushing me from him. " You've
nearly squeezed the breath out of my body." He
pressed his hand to his heart, and looked really agitated
and ill.

" Now get me a glass of wine," said he, ' ' to remedy
what you've done, you she-tiger ! I'm almost ready to
faint."

I flew to get the required remedy. It seemed to
revive him considerably.

" What a shame it is," said 1, as I took the empty
glass from his hand, " for a strong young man like
you to reduce yourself to such a state I"

" If you knew all, my girl, you'd say rather, ' What
a wonder it is you can bear it so well as you do ! ' I've
lived more in these four months, Helen, than you have
in the whole course of your existence, or will to the
end of your days, if they numbered a hundred years ;
so I must expect to pay for it in some shape."

"You will have to pay a higher price than you
anticipate, if you don't take care : there will be the
total loss of your own health, and of my affection too,
if that is of any value to you."

" What, you're at that game of threatening me with
the loss of your affection again, are you ? I think it
couldn't have been very genuine stuff to begin with, if
it's so easily demolished. If you don't mind, my pretty
tyrant, you'll make me regret my choice in good earnest,
and envy my friend Hattersley his meek little wife ;
she's quite a pattern to her sex, Helen. He had her
with him in London all the season, and she was no
trouble at all. He might amuse himself just as he
pleased, in regular bachelor style, and she never com-
plained of neglect ; he might come home at any hour
of the night or morning, or not come home at all ; be

248 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

sullen, sober, or glorious drunk ; and play the fool or
the madman to his own heart's desire without any fear
or botheration. She never gives him a word of re-
proach or complaint, do what he will. He say's there's
not such a jewel in all England, and swears he wouldn't
take a kingdom for her."

" But he makes her life a curse to her."

" Not he ! She has no will but his, and is always
contented and happy as long as he is enjoying himself."

' ' In that case she is as great a fool as he is ; but it
is not so. I have several letters from her, express-
ing the greatest anxiety about his proceedings, and
complaining that you incite him to commit those
extravagances — one especially, in which she implores
me to use my influence with you to get you away from
London, and affirms that her husband never did such
things before you came, and would certainly discontinue
them as soon as you departed and left him to the
guidance of his own good sense."

" The detestable little traitor ! Give me the letter,
and he shall see it as sure as I'm a living man."

" No, he shall not see it without her consent ; but
if he did, there is nothing there to anger him — nor in
any of the others. She never speaks a word against
him ; it is only anxiety for him that she expresses.
She only alludes to his conduct in the most delicate
terms, and makes every excuse for him that she can
possibly think of — and as for her own misery, I rather
feel it than see it expressed in her letters."

" But she abuses me ; and no doubt you helped her."

" No ; I told her she over-rated my influence with
you, that I would gladly draw you away from the
temptations of the town if I could, but had little hope
of success, and that I thought she was wrong in
supposing that you enticed Mr Hattersley or any one
else into error. I had myself held the contrary
opinion at one time, but 1 now believed that you
mutually corrupted each other ; and, perhaps, if she
used a little gentle but serious remonstrance with her
husband, it might be of some service ; as though he

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 249

was more rough-hewn than mine, I believed he was of
a less impenetrable material."

" And so that is the way you go on — heartening
each other up to mutiny, and abusing each other's
partners, and throwing out implications against your
own, to the mutual gratification of both ! "

" According to your own account," said I, " my evil
counsel has had but little effect upon her. And as to
abuse and aspersions, we are both of us far too deeply
ashamed of the errors and vices of our other halves,
to make them the common subject of our correspond-
ence. Friends as we are, we would willingly keep
your failings to ourselves — even from ourselves if we
could, unless by knowing them we could deliver you
from them."

" Well, well ! don't worry me about them : you'll
never effect any good by that. Have patience with
me, and bear with my languor and crossness a little
while, till I get this cursed low fever out of my veins,
and then you'll find me cheerful and kind as ever.
Why can't you be gentle and good as you were last
time ? — I'm sure I was very grateful for it."

" And what good did your gratitude do? I deluded
myself with the idea that you were ashamed of your
transgressions, and hoped you would never repeat them
again ; but now, you have left me nothing to hope ! "

" My case is quite desperate, is it ? A very blessed
consideration, if it will only secure me from the pain
and worry of my dear anxious wife's efforts to convert
me, and her from the toil and trouble of such exertions,
and her sweet face and silver accents from the ruinous
effects of the same. A burst of passion is a fine
rousing thing upon occasion, Helen, and a flood of tears
is marvellously affecting, but, when indulged too often,
they are both deuced plaguy things for spoiling one's
beauty and tiring out one's friends."

Thenceforth, I restrained my tears and passions as
much as I could. I spared him my exhortations and
fruitless efforts at conversion too, for I saw it was all
in vain : God might awaken that heart, supine and

250 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

stupefied with self-indulgence, and remove the film of
sensual darkness from his eyes, but I could not. His
injustice and ill-humour towards his inferiors, who
could not defend themselves, I still resented and with-
stood ; but when I alone was their object, as was
frequently the case, I endured it with calm forbear-
ance, except at times when my temper, worn out
by repeated annoyances, or stung to distraction
by some new instance of irrationality, gave way in
spite of myself, and exposed me to the imputa-
tions of fierceness, cruelty, and impatience. I attended
carefully to his wants and amusements, but not, I own,
with the same devoted fondness as before, because I
could not feel it ; besides, I had now another claimant
on my time and care — my ailing infant, for whose sake
I frequently braved and suffered the reproaches and
complaints of his unreasonably exacting father.

But Arthur is not naturally a peevish or irritable
man — so far from it, that there was something almost
ludicrous in the incongruity of this adventitious fret-
fulness and nervous irritability, rather calculated to
excite laughter than anger, if it were not for the
intensely painful considerations attendant upon those
symptoms of a disordered frame, — and his temper
gradually improved as his bodily health was restored,
which was much sooner than would have been the case,
but for my strenuous exertions ; for there was still one
thing about him that I did not give up in despair, and
one effort for his preservation that I would not remit.
His appetite for the stimulus of wine had increased
upon him, as I had too well foreseen.^-lt was now
something more to him than an acce^arv to social
enjoyment : it was an important source 61r enjoyment
in itself. In this time of weakness and depression he
would have made it his medicine and support, his
comforter, his recreation, and his friend, — and thereby
sunk deeper and deeper — and bound himself down for
ever in the bathos whereinto he had fallen. But 1
determined this should never be, as long as I had any
influence left ; and though I could not prevent him

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 261

from taking more than was good for him, still, by
incessant perseverance, by kindness, and firmness, and
vigilance, by coaxing, and daring, and determination,
— I succeeded in preserving him from absolute bondage
to that detestable propensity, so insidious in its
advances, so inexorable in its tyranny, so disastrous in
its effects.

And here, I must not forget that I am not a little
indebted to his friend, Mr Hargrave. About that time
he frequently called at Grassdale, and often dined with
us, on which occasions, I fear, Arthur would willingly
have cast prudence and decorum to the winds, and
made " a night of it," as often as his friend would
have consented to join him in that exalted pastime ;
and if the latter had chosen to comply, he might, in a
night or two, have ruined the labour of weeks, and
overthrown with a touch the frail bulwark it had cost
me such trouble and toil to construct. I was so
fearful of this at first, that I humbled myself to
intimate to him in private, my apprehensions of
Arthur's proueness to these excesses, and to express a
hope that he would not encourage it. He was pleased
with this mark of confidence, and certainly did not
betray it. On that and every subsequent occasion, his
presence served rather as a check upon his host, than
an incitement to further acts of intemperance ; and he
always succeeded in bringing him from the dining-room
in good time, and in tolerably good condition ; for if
Arthur disregarded such intimations, as " Well, I must
not detain you from your lady," or, " We must not
forget that Mrs Huntingdon is alone," he would insist
upon leaving the table himself, to join me, and his
host, however unwillingly, was obliged to follow.

Hence I learned to welcome Mr Hargrave as a real
friend to the family, a harmless companion for Arthur,
to cheer his spirits and preserve him from the tedium
of absolute idleness, and a total isolation from all
society but mine, and a useful ally to me. I could not
but feel grateful to him under such circumstances ; and
I did not scruple to acknowledge my obligation on the

252 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

first convenient opportunity ; yet, as I did so, my
heart whispered all was not right, and brought a glow
to my face, which he heightened by his steady, serious
gaze, while, by his manner of receiving those acknow-
ledgments, he more than doubled my misgivings.
His high delight at being able to serve me, was
chastened by sympathy for me and commiseration for
himself— about, I know not what, for I would not stay
to inquire, or suffer him to unburden his sorrows to
me. His sighs and intimations of suppressed affliction
seemed to come from a full heart ; but either he must
contrive to retain them within it, or breathe them
forth in other ears than mine : there was enough of
confidence between us already. It seemed wrong that
there should exist a secret understanding between my
husband's friend and me, unknown to him, of which he
was the object. But my afterthought was, ' ' If it is
wrong, surely Arthur's is the fault, not mine."

And indeed, I know not whether, at the time, it was
not for him rather than myself that I blushed ; for,
since he and I are one, I so identify myself with him,
that I feel his degradation, his failings, and transgres-
sions as my own ; I blush for him, I fear for him ; I
repent for him, weep, pray, and feel for him as for
myself ; but I cannot act for him ; and hence, I must
be, and I am, debased, contaminated by the union, both
in my own eyes, and in the actual truth. I am so de-
termined to love him — so intensely anxious to excuse
his errors, that I am continually dwelling upon them,
and labouring to extenuate the loosest of his principles,
and the worst of his practices, till I am familiarised with
vice, and almost a partaker in his sins. Things that
formerly shocked and disgusted me, now seem only
natural. I know them to be wrong, because reason
and God's Word declare them to be so ; but I am gradu-
ally losing that instinctive horror and repulsion which
were given me by nature, or instilled into me by the
precepts and example of my aunt. Perhaps, then, I
was too severe in my judgments, for I abhorred the
sinner as well as the sin ; now, I flatter myself I am

THE TENANT OF WJLDFELL HALL 253

more charitable and considerate ; but am I not be-
coming more indifferent and insensate too ? Fool that
I was, to dream that I had strength and purity enough
to save myself and him ! Such vain presumption would
be rightly served, if I should perish with him in the
gulf from which I sought to save him ! — Yet, God pre-
serve me from it ! — and him too. Yes, poor Arthur, I
will still hope and pray for you ; and though I write as
if you were some abandoned wretch, past hope, and
past reprieve, it is only my anxious fears — my strong
desires that make me do so ; one who loved you less
would be less bitter — less dissatisfied.

His conduct has, of late, been what the world calls
irreproachable ; but then I know his heart is still un-
changed ; — and I know that spring is approaching, and
deeply dread the consequences.

As he began to recover the tone and vigour of his ex-
hausted frame, and with it something of his former im-
patience of retirement and repose, I suggested a short
residence by the sea-side, for his recreation and further
restoration, and for the benefit of our little one as well.
But no ; watering-places were so intolerably dull —
besides., he had been invited by one of his friends to
spend a month or two in Scotland for the better recrea-
tion of grouse-shooting and deer-stalking, and had
promised to go.

" Then you will leave me again, Arthur? " said I.

" Yes, dearest, but only to love you the better when
I come back, and make up for all past offences and
shortcomings ; and you needn't fear me this time ;
there are no temptations on the mountains. And
during my absence you may pay a visit to Staningley,
if you like ; your uncle and aunt have long been want-
ing us to go there, you know ; but somehow, there's
such a repulsion between the good lady and me, that I
never could bring myself up to the scratch."

About the third week in August, Arthur set out for
Scotland, and Mr Hargrave accompanied him thither,
to my private satisfaction. Shortly after, I, with little
Arthur and Rachel, went to Staningley, my dear old

home, which, as well as my dear old friends its in-
habitants, I saw again with mingled feelings of pleasure
and pain so intimately blended that I could scarcely
distinguish the one from the other, or tell to which to
attribute the various tears, and smiles, and sighs
awakened by those old familiar scenes, and tones, and
faces.

Arthur did not come home till several weeks after
my return to Grassdale ; but I did not feel so anxious
about him now : to think of him engaged in active
sports among the wild hills of Scotland, was very
different from knowing him to be immersed amid the
corruptions and temptations of London. His letters,
now, though neither long nor lover-like, were more
regular than ever they had been before ; and when he
did return, to my great joy instead of being worse than
when he went, he was more cheerful and vigorous, and
better in every respect. Since that time, I have had
little cause to complain. He still has an unfortunate
predilection for the pleasures of the table, against which
I have to struggle and watch ; but he has begun to
notice his boy, and that is an increasing source of
amusement to him within doors, while his fox-hunting
and coursing are a sufficient occupation for him without,
when the ground is not hardened by frost ; so that he
is not wholly dependent on me for entertainment. But
it is now January : spring is approaching ; and, I re-
peat, I dread the consequences of its arrival. That
sweet season, I once so joyously welcomed as the time
of hope and gladness, awakens, now, far other anticipa-
tions by its return.

CHAPTER XXXI

MARCH 20th, 1824.— The dreaded time is come, and
Arthur is gone, as I expected. This time he announced
it his intention to make but a short stay in London,
and pass over to the Continent, where he should pro-
bably stay a few weeks ; but I shall not expect him till

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 265

after the lapse of many weeks : I now know that, with
him, days signify weeks, and weeks months.

July 30th. — He returned about three weeks ago,
rather better in health, certainly, than before, but
still worse in temper. And yet, perhaps, I am wrong :
it is I that am less patient and forbearing. I am
tired out with his injustice, his selfish and hopeless
depravity. I wish a milder word would do ; — I am
no angel, and my corruption rises against it. My
poor father died last week : Arthur was vexed to
hear of it, because he saw that I was shocked
and grieved, and he feared the circumstance would
mar his comfort. When I spoke of ordering my
mourning, he exclaimed, —

"Oh, I hate black ! But, however, I suppose you
must wear it awhile, for form's sake ; but I hope,
Helen, you won't think it your bounden duty to
compose your face and manners into conformity with
your funereal garb. Why should you sigh and groan,
and I be made uncomfortable because an old gentle-
man in shire, a perfect stranger to us both, has

thought proper to drink himself to death? There,
now, I declare you're crying ! Well, it must be
affectation."

He would not hear of my attending the funeral, or
going for a day or two, to cheer poor Frederick's
solitude. It was quite unnecessary, he said, and I was
unreasonable to wish it. What was my father to me ?
I had never seen him, but once since I was a baby,
and I well knew he had never cared a stiver about
me ; — and my brother, too, was little better than a
stranger. " Besides, dear Helen," said he, embracing
me with flattering fondness, " I cannot spare you for a
single day."

•' Then how have you managed without me these
many days ?" said I.

" Ah ! then 1 was knocking about the world, now
I am at home ; and home without you, my household
deity, would be intolerable."

" Yes, as long as 1 am necessary to your comfort ;

256 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

but you did not say so before, when you urged me to
leave you, in order that you might get away from your
home without me," retorted I ; but before the words
were well out of my mouth, J regretted having uttered
them. It seemed so heavy a charge : if false, too gross
an insult ; if true, too humiliating a fact to be thus
openly cast in his teeth. But I might have spared
myself that momentary pang of self-reproach. The
accusation awoke neither shame nor indignation in
him : he attempted neither denial nor excuse, but
only answered with a long, low, chuckling |laugh, as
if he viewed the whole transaction as a clever, merry
jest from beginning to end. Surely that man will
make me dislike him at last !

" Sine as ye brew, my maiden fair,

Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill."

Yes ; and I will drink it to the very dregs : and none
but myself shall know how bitter I find it !

August 20th. — We are shaken down again to about
our usual position. Arthur has returned to nearly his
former conditions and habits ; and I have found it
my wisest plan to shut my eyes against the past and
future, as far as he, at least, is concerned, and live
only for the present ; to love him when I can ; to
smile (if possible) when he smiles, be cheerful when
he is cheerful, and pleased when he is agreeable ;
and when he is not, to try to make him so — and
if that won't answer, to bear with him, to excuse him,
and forgive him, as well as I can, and restrain my own
evil passions from aggravating his ; and yet, while I
thus yield and minister to his more harmless propen-
sities to self-indulgence, to do all in my power to save
him from the worse.

But we shall not be long alone together. I shall
shortly be called upon to entertain the same select
body of friends as we had the autumn before last,
with the addition of Mr Hattersley and, at my special
request, his wife and child. I long to see Milicent —

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 257

and her little girl too. The latter is now above a
year old ; she will be a charming playmate for my
little Arthur.

September 80th. — Our guests have been here a week
or two ; but I have had no leisure to pass any comments
upon them till now. I cannot get over my dislike to
Lady Lowborough. It is not founded on mere per-
sonal pique ; it is the woman herself that I dislike,
because I so thoroughly disapprove of her. I always
avoid her company as much as I can without violat-
ing the laws of hospitality ; but when we do speak
or converse together, it is with the utmost civility —
even apparent cordiality on her part ; but preserve
me from such cordiality ! It is like handling briar-
roses and may-blossoms — bright enough to the eye,
and outwardly soft to the touch, but you know there
are thorns beneath, and every now and then you feel
them too ; and perhaps resent the injury by crushing
them in till you have destroyed their power, though
somewhat to the detriment of your own lingers.

Of late, however, I have seen nothing in her conduct
towards Arthur to anger or alarm me. During the
first few days I thought she seemed very solicitous to
win his admiration. Her efforts were not unnoticed by
him : I frequently saw him smiling to himself at her
artful manoeuvres : but, to his praise be it spoken, her
shafts fell powerless by his side. Her most bewitching
smiles, her haughtiest frowns were ever received with
the same immutable, careless good-humour ; till, finding
he was indeed impenetrable, she suddenly remitted her
efforts, and became, to all appearance, as perfectly in-
different as himself. Nor have I since witnessed any
symptom of pique on his part, or renewed attempts at
conquest upon hers.

This is as it should be ; but Arthur never will let me
be satisfied with him. I have never, for a single hour
since I married him, known what it is to realize that
sweet idea, " In quietness and confidence shall be your
rest." Those two detestable men, Grimsby and Hat-
tersley, have destroyed all my labour against his love

258 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

of wine. They encourage him daily to overstep the
bounds of moderation, and, not unfrequently, to dis-
grace himself by positive excess. I shall not soon
forget the second night after their arrival. Just as
I had retired from the dining-room, with the ladies,
before the door was closed upon us, Arthur exclaimed, —

"Now then, my lads, what say you to a regular
jollification ? "

Milicent glanced at me with a half-reproachful look,
as if I could hinder it ; but her countenance changed
when she heard Hattersley's voice shouting through
door and wall, —

" I'm your man ! Send for more wine : here isn't
half enough ! "

We had scarcely entered the drawing-room before
we were joined by Lord Lowborough.

"What can induce you to come so soon?" ex-
claimed his lady, with a most ungracious air of
dissatisfaction.

" You know I never drink, Annabella," replied he,
seriously.

"Well, but you might stay with them a little: it
looks so silly to be always dangling after the women ;
I wonder you can ! "

He reproached her with a look of mingled bitterness
and surprise, and, sinking into a chair, suppressed a
heavy sigh, bit his pale lips, and fixed his eyes upon
the floor.

" You did right to leave them, Lord Lowborough,"
said I. " I trust you will always continue to honour
us so early with your company. And if Annabella
knew the value of true wisdom, and the misery of folly
and — and intemperance, she would not talk such non-
sense— even in jest."

He raised his eyes while I spoke, and gravely turned
them upon me, with a half-surprised, half-abstracted
look, and then bent them on his wife.

" At least," said she, " I know the value of a warm
heart, and a bold, manly spirit."

" Well, Annabella," said he, in a deep and hollow

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 269

tone, "since my presence is disagreeable to you, I will
relieve you of it.

"Are you going back to them, then?" said she,
carelessly.

"No," exclaimed he, with harsh and startling em-
phasis ; "I will not go back to them ! And I will
never stay with them one moment longer than I think
right, for you or any other tempter ! But you needn't
mind that ; I shall never trouble you again, by intrud-
ing my company upon you so unseasonably."

He left the room, I heard the hall door open and
shut, and, immediately after, on putting aside the
curtain, I saw him pacing down the park, in the com-
fortless gloom of the damp, cloudy twilight.

" It would serve you right, Annabella," said I, at
length, "if Lord Lowborough were to return to his old
habits, which had so nearly effected his ruin, and which
it cost him such an effort to break : you would then see
cause to repent such conduct as this."

" Not at all, my dear ! I should not mind if his lord-
ship were to see fit to intoxicate himself every day : I
should only the sooner be rid of him."

"Oh, Annabella !" cried Miliceut. "How can you
say such wicked things ! It would, indeed, be a just
punishment, as far as you are concerned, if Providence
should take you at your word, and make you feel what

others feel that " She paused as a sudden burst of

loud talking and laughter reached us from the dining-
room, in which the voice of Hattersley was pre-eminently
conspicuous, even to my unpractised ear.

" What you feel at this moment, 1 suppose ? " said
Lady Lowborough, with a malicious smile, fixing her
eyes upon her cousin's distressed countenance.

The latter offered no reply, but averted her face and
brushed away a tear. At that moment the door opened
and admitted Mr Hargrave ; just a little flushed, his
dark eyes sparkling with unwonted vivacity.

"Oh, I'm glad you've come, Walter!" cried his
sister — " But 1 wish you could have got Ralph to come
too."

260 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" Utterly impossible, dear Milicent," replied he,
gaily. " I had much ado to get away myself. Ralph
attempted to keep me by violence ; Huntingdon
threatened me with the eternal loss of his friendship ;
and Grimsby, worse than all, endeavoured to make me
ashamed of my virtue, by such galling sarcasms and
innuendos as he knew would wound me the most. So
you see, ladies, you ought to make me welcome when
I have braved and suffered so much for the favour of
your sweet society." He smilingly turned to me and
bowed as he finished the sentence.

''Isn't he handsome now, Helen ! " whispered Miliceut,
her sisterly pride overcoming, for the moment, all other
considerations.

"He would be," I returned, "if that brilliance of
eye, and lip, and cheek were natural to him ; but look
again, a few hours hence."

Here the gentleman took a seat near me at the table,
and petitioned for a cup of coffee.

" I consider this an apt illustration of Heaven taken
by storm," said he, as I handed one to him. " I am
in paradise now ; but I have fought my way through
flood and fire to win it. Ralph Hattersley's last
resource was to set his back against the door, and
swear I should find no passage but through his body (a
pretty substantial one too). Happily, however, that
was not the only door, and I effected my escape by the
side entrance, through the butler's pantry, to the
infinite amazement of Benson, who was cleaning the
plate."

Mr Hargrave laughed, and so did his cousin ; but
his sister and I remained silent and grave.

" Pardon my levity, Mrs Huntingdon," murmured
he, more seriously, as he raised his eyes to my face.
" You are not used to these things : you suffer them to
affect your delicate mind too sensibly. But I thought
of you in the midst of those lawless roisterers ; and I
endeavoured to persuade Mr Huntingdon to think of
you too ; but to no purpose : I fear he is fully deter-
mined to enjoy himself this night ; and it will be no use

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 261

keeping the coffee waiting for him or his companions ;
it will be much if they join us at tea. Meantime, I
earnestly wish I could banish the thoughts of them
from your mind — and my own too, for I hate to think
of them — yes — even of my dear friend Huntingdon,
when I consider the power he possesses over the happi-
ness of one so immeasurably superior to himself, and
the use he makes of it — I positively detest the man ! "

" You had better not say so to me, then," said I ;
" for, bad as he is, he is part of myself, and you cannot
abuse him without offending me."

"Pardon me, then, for I would sooner die than
offend you. But let us say no more of him for the
present, if you please."

At last they came ; but not till after ten, when tea,
which had been delayed for more than half an hour,
was nearly over. Much as I had longed for their
coming, my heart failed me at the riotous uproar of
their approach ; and Milicent turned pale and almost
started from her seat as Mr Hattersley burst into the
room with a clamorous volley of oaths in his mouth,
which Hargrave endeavoured to check by entreating
him to remember the ladies.

"Ah ! you do well to remind me of the ladies, you
dastardly deserter," cried he, shaking his formidable
fist at his brother-in-law ; " if it were not for them,
you well know, I'd demolish you in the twinkling of
an eye, and give your body to the fowls of heaven and
the lilies of the fields ! " Then, planting a chair by
Lady Lowborough's side, he stationed himself in it,
and began to talk to her, with a mixture of absurdity
and impudence tUat seemed rather to amuse than to
offend her ; though she affected to resent his insolence,
and to keep him at bay with sallies of smart and
spirited repartee.

Meantime, Mr Grimsby seated himself by me, in the
chair vacated by Hargrave as they entered, and gravely
stated that he would thank me for a cup of tea : and
Arthur placed himself beside poor Milicent, confidenti-
ally pushing his head into her face, and drawing in

262 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

closer to her as she shrunk away from him. He was
not so noisy as Hattersley, but his face was exceedingly
flushed, he laughed incessantly, and while I blushed
for all I saw and heard of him, I was glad that he
chose to talk to his companion in so low a tone that no
one could hear what he said but herself.

" What fools they are ! " drawled Mr Grimsby, who
had been talking away, at my elbow, with sententious
gravity all the time ; but I had been too much absorbed
in contemplating the deplorable state of the other two
— especially Arthur— to attend to him.

" Did you ever hear such nonsense as they talk, Mrs
Huntingdon ? " he continued. " Fm quite ashamed
of them for my part : they can't take so much as a
bottle between them without its getting into their
heads "

" You are pouring the cream into your saucer, Mr
Grimsby."

" Ah ! yes, I see, but we're almost in darkness here.
Hargrave, snuff those candles, will you ? "

' ' They're wax ; they don't require snuffing," said I.

" ' The light of the body is the eye,' " observed
Hargrave, with a sarcastic smile. " ' If thine eye be
single, thy whole body shall be full of light.' "

Grimsby repulsed him with a solemn wave of the
hand, and then, turning to me, continued, with the
same drawling tones, and strange uncertainty of utter-
ance and heavy gravity of aspect as before, " But, as I was
saying, Mrs Huntingdon, — they have no head at all :
they can't take half a bottle without being affected
some way ; whereas I — well I've taken three times as
much as they have to-night, and you see I'm perfectly
steady. Now that may strike you as very singular,
but I think I can explain it : — you see their brains — I
mention no names, but you'll understand to whom I
allude — their brains are light to begin with, and the
fumes of the fermented liquor render them lighter
still, and produce an entire light-headedness, or giddi-
ness, resulting in intoxication ; whereas my brains
being composed of more solid materials, will absorb

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 263

considerable quantity of this alcoholic vapour without
the production of any sensible result "

" I think you will find a sensible result produced
on that tea," interrupted Mr Hargrave, " by the
quantity of sugar you have put into it. Instead of
your usual complement of one lump you have put in
six."

"Have I so?" replied the philosopher, diving with
his spoon into the cup, and bringing up several half-
dissolved pieces in confirmation of the assertion.
" Um ! I perceive. Thus, Madam, you see the evil
of absence of mind — of thinking too much while
engaged in the common concerns of life. Now, if I
had had my wits about me, like ordinary men, instead
of within me like a philosopher, I should not have
spoiled this cup of tea, and been constrained to trouble
you for another."

" That is the sugar-basin, Mr Grimsby. Now you
have spoiled the sugar too ; and I'll thank you to ring
for some more — for here is Lord Lowborough, at last ;
and I hope his lordship will condescend to sit down
with us, such as we are, and allow me to give him some
tea."

His lordship gravely bowed in answer to my appeal,
but said nothing. Meantime, Hargrave volunteered
to ring for the sugar, while Grimsby lamented his
mistake, and attempted to prove that it was owing to
the shadow of the urn and the badness of the lights.

Lord Lowborough had entered a minute or two
before, unobserved by any one but me, and had been
standing before the door, grimly surveying the com-
pany. He now stepped up to Annabella, who sat
with her back towards him, with Hattersley still
beside her, though not now attending to her, being
occupied in vociferously abusing and bullying his host.

"Well, Annabella," said her husband, as he leant
over the back of her chair, "which of these three
* bold, manly spirits ' would you have me to
resemble ? "

" By heaven and earth, you shall resemble us all ! "

264 THE TENANT OF WJLDFELL HALL

cried Hattersley, starting up and rudely seizing him by
the arm. " Halio, Huntingdon ! " he shouted — " I've
got him ! Come, man, and help me ! And d — n me
if I don't make him drunk before I let him go ! He
shall make up for all past delinquencies as sure as I'm
a living soul ! "

There followed a disgraceful contest ; Lord Low-
borough , in desperate earnest, and pale with anger,
silently struggling to release himself from the
powerful madman that was striving to drag him from
the room. I attempted to urge Arthur to interfere in
behalf of his outraged guest, but he could do nothing
but laugh.

" Huntingdon, you fool, come and help me, can't
you ! " cried Hattersley, himself somewhat weakened
by his excesses.

" I'm wishing you God-speed, Hattersley," cried
Arthur, "and aiding you with my prayers : I can't do
anything else if my life depended on it ! I'm quite
used up. Oh, ho ! " and leaning back in his seat, he
clapped his hands on his sides and groaned aloud.

" Annabella, give me a candle ! " said Lowborough,
whose antagonist had now got him round the waist and
was endeavouring to root him from the door-post
to which he madly clung with all the energy of
desperation.

" I shall take no part in your rude sports ! " replied
the lady, coldly drawing back, " I wonder you can
expect it."

But I snatched up a candle and brought it to him.
He took it and held the flame to Hattersley's hands
till, roaring like a wild beast, the latter unclasped
them and let him go. He vanished, I suppose to his
own apartment, for nothing more was seen of him till
the morning. Swearing and cursing like a maniac,
Hattersley threw himself on to the ottoman beside the
window. The door being now free, Milicent attempted
to make her escape from the scene of her husband's
disgrace ; but he called her back, and insisted upon her
coming to him.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 265

"What do you want, Ralph?" murmured she,
reluctantly approaching him.

" I want to Know what's the matter with you/' said
he, pulling her on to his knee like a child. " What
are you crying for, Milicent ? — Tell me ! "

" I'm not crying."

" You are," persisted he, rudely pulling her hands
from her face. " How dare you tell such a lie ? "

" I'm not crying now," pleaded she.

" But you have been — and just this minute too ;
and I will know what for. Come now, you shall tell
me !"

" Do let me alone, Ralph ! remember, we are not at
home."

" No matter : you shall answer my question ! " ex-
claimed her tormentor ; and he attempted to extort
the confession by shaking her, and remorsely crushing
her slight arms in the grip of his powerful fingers.

" Don't let him treat your sister in that way," said I
to Mr Hargrave.

" Come now, Hattersley, I can't allow that/' said
that gentleman, stepping up to the ill-assorted couple.
" Let my sister alone, if you please." And he made
an effort to unclasp the ruffian s fingers from her arm,
but was suddenly driven backward, and nearly laid
upon the floor by a violent blow in the chest accom-
panied with the admonition,

" Take that for your insolence ! — and learn to
interfere between me and mine again."

" If you were not drunk. I'd have satisfaction for
that ! " gasped Hargrave, white and breathless as much
from passion as from the immediate effects of th«;
blow.

" Go to the devil ! " responded his brother-in-law.
"Now, Milicent, tell me what you were crying for."

" I'll tell you some other time," murmured she,
" when we are alone."

" Tell me now ! " said he, with another shake and a
squeeze that made her draw in her breath and bite her
lip to suppress a cry of pain.

266 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" I'll tell you, Mr Hattersley," said I. " She was
crying from pure shame and humiliation for you ;
because she could not bear to see you conduct yourself
so disgracefully."

" Confound you, Madam ! " muttered he, with a
stare of stupid amazement at my 'impudence.' "It
was not that — was it, Milicent ? "

She was silent.

" Come, speak up, child ! "

" I can't tell now," sobbed she.

" But you can say ' yes ' or ' no ' as well as ' I can't
tell '—Come ! "

" Yes," she whispered, hanging her head, and
blushing at the awful acknowledgment. .

" Curse you for an impertinent hussy, then ! " cried
he, throwing her from him with such violence that she
fell on her side ; but she was up again before either I
or her brother could come to her assistance, and made
the best of her way out of the room, and, I suppose,
up stairs, without loss of time.

The next object of assault was Arthur, who sat
opposite, and had, no doubt, richly enjoyed the whole
scene.

" Now, Huntingdon," exclaimed his irascible friend,
" I will not have you sitting there, and laughing like
an idiot ! "

•' Oh, Hattersley ! " cried he, wiping his swimming
eyes — " you'll be the death of me."

" Yes, I will, but not as you suppose : I'll have the
heart out of your body, man, if you irritate me with
any more of that imbecile laughter ! — What ! are you
at it yet ? — There ! see if that'll settle you ! " cried
Hattersley, snatching up a footstool and hurling it at
the head of his host ; but he missed his aim, and the
latter still sat collapsed and quaking with feeble
laughter, with the tears running down his face ; a
deplorable spectacle indeed.

Hattersley tried cursing and swearing, but it would
not do ; he then took a number of books from the
table beside him, and threw them, one by one, at the

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 267

object of his wrath, but Arthur only laughed the more ;
and, finally, Hattersley rushed upon him in a frenzy,
and, seizing him by the shoulders, gave him a violent
shaking, under which he laughed, and shrieked
alarmingly. But I saw no more : I thought 1 had
witnessed enough of my husband's degradation ; and,
leaving Annabella and the rest to follow when they
pleased, I withdrew, but not to bed. Dismissing
Rachel to her rest, I walked up and down my room,
in an agony of misery, for what had been done, and
suspense, not knowing what might further happen, or
how, or when, that unhappy creature would come up
to bed.

At last he came, slowly and stumblingly, ascending
the stairs, supported by Grimsby and Hattersley, who
neither of them walked quite steadily themselves, but
were both laughing and joking at him, and making
noise enough for all the servants to hear. He himself
was no longer laughing now, but sick and stupid. I
will write no more about that.

Such disgraceful scenes (or nearly such) have been
repeated more than once. I don't say much to Arthur
about it, for, if I did, it would do more harm than
good ; but I let him know, that I intensely dislike
such exhibitions ; and each time he has promised they
should never again be repeated ; but I fear he is losing
the little self-command and self-respect he once pos-
sessed : formerly, he would have been ashamed to act
thus — at least, before any other witnesses than his
boon companions, or such as they. His friend, Har-
grave, with a prudence and self-government that 1
envy for him, never disgraces himself by taking more
than sufficient to render him a little 'elevated,' and is
always the first to leave the table, after Lord Low-
borough, who, wiser still, perseveres in vacating the
dining-room immediately after us ; but never once,
since Annabella offended him so deeply, has he entered
the drawing-room before the rest ; always spending
the interim in the library, which I take care to have
lighted for his accommodation ; or, on fine moonlight

268 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

nights, in roaming about the grounds. But I think
she regrets her misconduct, for she has never repeated
it since, and of late she has comported herself with
wonderful propriety towards him, treating him with
more uniform kindness and consideration than ever I
have observed her to do before. I date the time of
this improvement from the period when she ceased to
hope and strive for Arthur's admiration.

CHAPTER XXXII

OCTOBER oth. — Esther Hargrave is getting a fine girl.
She is not out of the school-room yet, but her mother
frequently brings her over to call in the mornings
when the gentlemen are out, and sometimes she spends
an hour or two in company with her sister and me,
and the children ; and when we go to the Grove, I
always contrive to see her, and talk more to her than
to any one else, for I am very much attached to my
little friend, and so is she to me. I wonder what she
can see to like in me though, for I am no longer the
happy, lively girl I used to be ; but she has no other
society — save that of her uncongenial mother, and her
governess (as artificial and conventional a person as
that prudent mother could procure to rectify the pupil's
natural qualities), and, now and then, her subdued,
quiet sister. I often wonder what will be her lot in
life — and so does she ; but her speculations on the
future are full of buoyant hope— so were mine once.
I shudder to think of her being awakened, like me, to
a sense of their delusive vanity. It seems as if I should
feel her disappointment even more deeply than my
own. I feel, almost, as if I were born for such a fate,
but she is so joyous and fresh, so light of heart and
free of spirit, and so guileless and unsuspecting too.
Oh, it would be cruel to make her feel as I feel now,
and know what I have known !

Her sister trembles for her too. Yesterday morning,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 269

one of October's brightest, loveliest days, Milicent and
I were in the garden enjoying a brief half hour together
with our children, while Annabella was lying on the
drawing-room sofa, deep in the last new novel. We
had been romping with the little creatures, almost as
merry and wild as themselves, and now paused in the
shade of the tall copper beech, to recover breath and
rectify our hair, disordered by the rough play and the
frolicsome breeze — while they toddled together along
the broad, sunny walk ; my Arthur supporting the
feebler steps of her little Helen, and sagaciously point-
ing out to her the brightest beauties of the border as
they passed, with semi-articulate prattle, that did as
well for her as any other mode of discourse. From
laughing at the pretty sight, we began to talk of the
children's future life ; and that made us thoughtful.
We both relapsed into silent musing as we slowly pro-
ceeded up the walk ; and I suppose Milicent, by a
train of associations, was led to think of her sister.

" Helen," said she, " you often see Esther, don't
you ? "

" Not very often."

" But you have more frequent opportunities of meet-
ing her than I have ; and she loves you, I know, and
reverences you, too ; there is nobody's opinion she
thinks so much of; and she says you have more sense
than mamma."

" That is because she is self-willed, and my opinions
more generally coincide with her own than your
mamma's. But what then, Milicent?"

" Well, since you have so much influence with her,
I wish you would seriously impress it upon her, never,
on any account, or for anybody's persuasion, to marry
for the sake of money, or rank, or establishment, or
any earthly thing, but true affection and well-grounded
esteem." "^

"There is no necessity for that," said I, "for we
have had some discourse on that subject already, and
I assure you her ideas of love and matrimony are as
romantic as any one could desire."

270 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" But romantic notions will not do : I want her to
have true notions."

" Very right ; but in my judgment, what the world
stigmatises as romantic, is often more nearly allied to
the truth than is commonly supposed ; for, if the
generous ideas of youth are too often overclouded by
the sordid views of after-life, that scarcely proves them
to be false."

" Well, but if you think her ideas are what they
ought to be, strengthen them, will you ? and confirm
them, as far as you can ; for I had romantic notions

once, and 1 don't mean to say that I regret my

lot, for I am quite sure I don't — but "

" I understand you," said I ; " you are contented
for yourself, but you would not have your sister to
suffer the same as you."

" No — or worse. She might have far worse to suffer
than I — for I am really contented, Helen, though you
mayn't think it : I speak the solemn truth in saying
that I would not exchange my husband for any man
on earth, if I might do it by the plucking of this leaf."

" Well, I believe you : now that you have him, you
would not exchange him for another ; but then you
would gladly exchange some of his qualities for those
of better men."

" Yes ; just as I would gladly exchange some of my
own qualities for those of better women ; for neither
he nor I are perfect, and I desire his improvement as
earnestly as my own. And he will improve — don't you
think so, Helen? — he's only six and twenty yet."

" He may," I answered.

" He will — he WILL ! " repeated she.

" Excuse the faintness of my acquiescence, Milicent;
I would not discourage your hopes for the world, but
mine have been so often disappointed, that I am be-
come as cold and doubtful in my expectations as the
flattest of octogenarians."

1 ' And yet you do hope, still — even for Mr
Huntingdon ? "

" I do, I confess — ' even ' for him ; for it seems as

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 271

if life and hope must cease together. And is he so
much worse, Milicent, than Mr Hattersley?"

" Well, to give you my candid opinion, I think there
is no comparison between them. But you mustn't be
offended, Helen, for you know I always speak my
mind, and you may speak yours too ; I shan't care."

" I am not offended, love ; and my opinion is, that
if there be a comparison made between the two, the
difference, for the most part, is certainly in Hattersley's
favour."

Milicent' s own heart told her how much it cost me
to make this acknowledgment ; and, with a childlike
impulse, she expressed her sympathy by suddenly
kissing my cheek, without a word of reply, and then
turning quickly away, caught up her baby, and hid her
face in its frock. How odd it is that we so often weep
for each other's distresses, when we shed not a tear for
our own ! Her heart had been full enough of her own
sorrows, but it overflowed at the idea of mine ; — and I,
too, shed tears, at the sight of her sympathetic emotion,
though I had not wept for myself for many a week.

It was one rainy day last week ; most of the company
were killing time in the billiard-room, but Milicent and
I were with little Arthur and Helen in the library, and
between our books, our children, and each other, we
expected to make out a very agreeable morning. We
had not been thus secluded above two hours, however,
when Mr Hattersley came in, attracted, I suppose, by
the voice of his child, as he was crossing the hall, for
he is prodigiously fond of her, and she of him.

He was redolent of the stables, where he had been re-
galing himself with the company of his fellow-creatures,
the horses, ever since breakfast. But that was no
matter to my little namesake : as soon as the colossal
person of her father darkened the door, she uttered a
shrill scream of delight, and, quitting her mother's
side, ran crowing towards him — balancing her course
with outstretched arms — and, embracing his knee,
threw back her head and laughed in his face. He
might well look smilingly down upon those small, fair

272 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

features, radiant with innocent mirth, those clear, blue
shining eyes, and that soft flaxen hair cast back upon
the little ivory neck and shoulders. Did he not think
how unworthy he was of such a possession ? I fear no
such idea crossed his mind. He caught her up, and
there followed some minutes of very rough play, during
which it is difficult to say whether the father or the
daughter laughed and shouted the loudest. At length,
however, the boisterous pastime terminated — suddenly,
as might be expected : the little one was hurt, and
began to cry ; and the ungentle playfellow tossed it
into its mother's lap, bidding her " make all straight."
As happy to return to that gentle comforter as it had
been to leave her, the child nestled in her arms, and
hushed its cries in a moment ; and sinking its little
weary head on her bosom, soon dropped asleep.

Meantime, Mr Hattersley strode up to the fire, and,
interposing his height and breadth between us and it,
stood, with arms akimbo, expanding his chest, and
gazing round him as if the house and all its ap-
purtenances and contents were his own undisputed
possessions.

" Deuced bad weather this ! " he began. " There'll
be no shooting to-day, I guess." Then, suddenly lift-
ing up his voice, he regaled us with a few bars of a
rollicking song, which abruptly ceasing, he finished the
tune with a whistle, and then continued, — " I say,
Mrs Huntingdon, what a fine stud your husband has !
— not large, but good. — I've been looking at them a
bit this morning ; and upon my word, Black Bess, and
Grey Tom, and that young Nimrod, are the finest
animals I've seen for many a day ! " Then followed a
particular discussion of their various merits, succeeded
by a sketch of the great tilings he intended to do in
the horse-jockey line, when his old governor thought
proper to quit the stage. "Not that I wish him to
close his accounts," added he; "the old Trojan is
welcome to keep his books open as long as he pleases
for me."

" I hope so, indeed, Mr Hattersley."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 273

" Oh yes ! It's only my way of talking. The event
must come some time, and so I look to the bright side
of it— that's the right plan, isn't it, Mrs H. ? What
are you two doing here, by the by — where's Lady
Lowborough ?"

" Jn the billiard-room."

" What a splendid creature she is ! " continued he,
fixing his eyes on his wife, who changed colour, and
looked more and more disconcerted as he proceeded.
" What a noble figure she has ! and what magnificent
black eyes ; and what a fine spirit of her own ; — and
what a tongue of her own, too, when she likes to use
it— I perfectly adore her ! But never mind, Milicent :
I wouldn't have her for my wife — not if she'd a king-
dom for her dowry ! I'm better satisfied with the one
I have. Now then ! what do you look so sulky for ?
don't you believe me?"

" Yes, I believe you,'' murmured she, in a tone of
half sad, half sullen resignation, as she turned away to
stroke the hair of her sleeping infant, that she had laid
on the sofa beside her.

"Well, then, what makes you so cross? Come
here, Milly, and tell me why you can't be satisfied with
my assurance.''

She went, and putting her little hand within his
arm, looked up in his face, and said softly, —

" What does it amount to, Ralph ? Only to this,
that though you admire Annabella so much, and for
qualities that I don't possess, you would still rather
have me than her for your wife, which merely proves
that you don't think it necessary to love your wife ;
you are satisfied if she can keep your house, and take
care of your child. But I'm not cross ; I'm only sorry ;
for," added she, in a low, tremulous accent, withdraw-
ing her hand from his arm, and bending her looks on
the rug, " if you don't love me, you don't, and it can't
be helped."

" Very true ; but who told you I didn't ? Did I say
I loved Annabella ? "

" You said you adored her."

274 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" True, but adoration isn't love. I adore Annabella,
but I don't love her ; and I love thee, Milicent, but I
don't adore thee." In proof of his affection, he
clutched a handful of her light brown ringlets, and
appeared to twist them unmercifully,

"Do you really, Ralph?" murmured she, with a
faint smile beaming through her tears, just putting
up her hand to his, in token that he pulled rather too
hard.

" To be sure I do," responded he : " only you
bother me rather, sometimes."

" I bother you ! " cried she in very natural surprise.

" Yes, you — but only by your exceeding goodness —
when a boy has been eating raisins and sugar-plums all
day, he longs for a squeeze of sour orange by way of a
change. And did you never, Milly, observe the sands
on the sea-shore ; how nice and smooth they look, and
how soft and easy they feel to the foot ? But if you
plod along, for half an hour, over this soft, easy
carpet — giving way at every step, yielding the more
the harder you press, — you'll rind it rather wearisome
work, and be glad enough to come to a bit of good,
firm rock, that won't budge an inch whether you stand,
walk, or stamp upon it ; and, though it be hard as the
nether millstone, you'll find it the easier footing after
all."

"I know what you mean, Ralph," said she, ner-
vously playing with her watchguard and tracing the
figure on the rug with the point of her tiny foot, " I
know what you mean, but I thought you always liked
to be yielded to ; and I can't alter now."

" I do like it," replied he, bringing her to him by
another tug at her hair. " You mustn't mind my talk,
Milly. A man must have something to grumble
about ; and if he can't complain that his wife harries
him to death with her perversity and ill-humour, he
must complain that she wears him out with her kind-
ness and gentleness."

" But why complain at all, unless because you are
tired and dissatisfied ? "

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 275

" To excuse my own failings, to be sure. Do you
think I'll bear all the burden of my sins on my own
shoulders, as long as there's another ready to help me,
with none of her own to carry ? "

" There is no such one on earth," said she seriously ;
and then, taking his hand from her head, she kissed it
with an air of genuine devotion, and tripped away to
the door.

" What now ? " said he. " Where are you going ? "

" To tidy my hair," she answered, smiling through
her disordered locks : " you've made it all come
down."

" Off with you then ! — An excellent little woman,"
he remarked when she was gone, " but a thought too
soft — she almost melts in one's hands. I positively
think I ill-use her sometimes, when I've taken too
much — but I can't help it, for she never complains,
either at the time or after. I suppose she doesn't
mind it."

" I can enlighten you on that subject, Mr Hat-
tersley," said I : " she does mind it ; and some other
things she minds still more, which, yet, you may never
hear her complain of."

" How do you know ? — does she complain to you ? ''
demanded he, with a sudden spark of fury ready to
burst into a flame if I should answer "Yes."

'* No," I replied ; " but I have known her longer and
studied her more closely than you have done. — And 1
can tell you, Mr Hattersley, that Milicent loves you
more than you deserve, and that you have it in your
power to make her very happy, instead of which you
are her evil genius, and, I will venture to say, there is
not a single day passes in which you do not inflict
upon her some pang that you might spare her if you
would."

" Well — it's not my fault," said he, gazing carelessly
up at the ceiling and plunging his hands into his
pockets : " if my ongoings don't suit her, she should
tell me so."

" Is she not exactly the wife you wanted ? Did you

276 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

not tell Mr Huntingdon you must have one that would
submit to anything without a murmur, and never
blame you, whatever you did ? "

" True, but we shouldn't always have what we want :
it spoils the best of us, doesn't it ? How can I help
playing the deuce when I see it's all one to her
whether I behave like a Christian or like a scoundrel
such as nature made me ? — and how can I help teasing
her when she's so invitingly meek and mim — when
she lies down like a spaniel at my feet and never so
much as squeaks to tell me that's enough ? "

" If you are a tyrant by nature, the temptation is
strong, 1 allow ; but no generous mind delights to
oppress the weak, but rather to cherish and protect."

" I don't oppress her ; but it's so confounded flat
to be always cherishing and protecting ; — and then
how can 1 tell that I am oppressing her when she
' melts away and makes no sign ' ? I sometimes think
she has no feeling at all ; and then I go on till she
cries— and that satisfies me."

" Then you do delight to oppress her ? "

" 1 don't, I tell you ! — only when I'm in a bad
humour — or a particularly good one, and want to
afflict for the pleasure of comforting ; or when she
looks flat and wants shaking up a bit. And sometimes,
she provokes me by crying for nothing, and won't tell
me what it's for ; and then, I allow, it enrages me
past bearing — especially, when I'm not my own
man."

"As is no doubt generally the case on such occa-
sions," said I. " But in future, Mr Hattersley, when
you see her looking flat, or crying for e nothing ' (as
you call it), ascribe it all to yourself : be assured it is
something you have done amiss, or your general mis-
conduct, that distresses her."

" 1 don't believe it. If it were, she should tell me
so : I don't like that way of moping and fretting in
silence, and saying nothing — it's not honest. How
can she expect me to mend my ways at that rate ? "

" Perhaps she gives you credit for having more

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 277

sense than you possess, and deludes herself with the
hope that you will one day see your own errors and
repair them, if left to your own reflection."

" None of your sneers, Mrs Huntingdon. I have
the sense to see that I'm not always quite correct — but
sometimes I think that's no great matter, as long as
I injure nobody but myself "

" It is a great matter," interrupted I, " both to
yourself (as you will hereafter find to your cost) and
to all connected with you — most especially your wife.
But, indeed, it is nonsense to talk about injuring no
one but yourself: it is impossible to injure yourself —
especially by such acts as we allude to — without injur-
ing hundreds, if not thousands, besides, in a greater
or less degree, either by the evil you do or the good
you leave undone."

" And as I was saying," continued he — " or would
have said if you hadn't taken me up so short — I some-
times think I should do better if I were joined to one
that would always remind me when I was wrong, and
give me a motive for doing good and eschewing evil by
decidedly showing her approval of the one, and dis-
approval of the other."

" If you had no higher motive than the approval of
your fellow mortal, it would do you little good."

" Well, but if I had a mate that would not always
be yielding, and always equally kind, but that would
have the spirit to stand at bay now and then, and
honestly tell me her mind at all times — such a one as
yourself, for instance. — Now if I went on with you as I
do with her when I'm in London, you'd make the
house too hot to hold me at times, I'll be sworn."

" You mistake me : I'm no termagant."

" Well, all the better for that, for I can't stand con-
tradiction— in a general way — and I'm as fond of my
own will as another: only I think too much of it
doesn't answer for any man."

" Well, I would never contradict you without a
cause, but certainly I would always let you know what
I thought of your conduct ; and if you oppressed me,

278 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

in body, mind, or estate, you should at least have no
reason to suppose ' I didn't mind it.' "

" I know that, my lady ; and I think if my little
wife were to follow the same plan it would be better
for us both/'

" I'll tell her."

" No, no, let her be ; there's much to be said on
both sides — and, now I think upon it, Huntingdon
often regrets that you are not more like her —
scoundrelly dog that he is — and you see, after all, you
can't reform him : he's ten times worse than I. He's
afraid of you, to be sure — that is, he's always on his
best behaviour in your presence — but "

" I wonder what his worst behaviour is like, then ? "
I could not forbear observing.

" Why, to tell you the truth, it's very bad indeed —
isn't it, Hargrave?" said he, addressing that gentle-
man, who had entered the room unperceived by me,
for I was now standing near the fire with my back to
the door. " Isn't Huntingdon," he continued, "as
great a reprobate as ever was d — d ? "

" His lady will not hear him censured with impunity,"
replied Mr Hargrave, coming forward ; " but I must
say, I thank God 1 am not such another."

"Perhaps it would become you better," said I, "to
look at what you are, and say, ' God be merciful to me
a sinner.' "

" You are severe," returned he, bowing slightly and
drawing himself up with a proud yet injured air.
Hattersley laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder.
Moving from under his hand with a gesture of insulted
dignity, Mr Hargrave took himself away to the other
end of the rug.

" Isn't it a shame, Mrs Huntingdon ? " cried his
brother-in-law — " 1 struck Walter Hargrave when I
was drunk, the second night after we came, and he's
turned a cold shoulder on me ever since ; though I
asked his pardon the very morning after it was
done!"

" Your manner of asking it," returned the other,

THE TENANT OK WILDFELL HALL 279

"and the clearness with which you remembered the
whole transaction, showed you were not too drunk to
be fully conscious of what you were about, and quite
responsible for the deed."

" You wanted to interfere between me and my wife,"
grumbled Hattersley, " and that is enough to provoke
any man."

"You justify it, then?" said his opponent, darting
upon him a most vindictive glance.

"No, I tell you I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't
been under excitement ; and if you choose to bear
malice for it after all the handsome things I've said —
do so and be d — d ! "

" I would refrain from such language in a lady's
presence, at least," said Mr Hargrave, hiding his anger
under a mask of disgust.

" What have I said ? " returned Hattersley. " No-
thing but Heaven's truth— he will be damned, won't
he, Mrs Huntingdon, if he doesn't forgive his brother's
trespasses ? "

" You ought to forgive him, Mr Hargrave, since he
asks you," said I.

"Do you say so? Then I will!" And, smiling
almost frankly, he stepped forward and offered his
hand. It was immediately clasped in that of his rela-
tive, and the reconciliation was apparently cordial on
both sides.

" The affront," continued Hargrave, turning to me,
" owed half its bitterness to the fact of its being offered
in your presence ; and since you bid me forgive it, I
will, and forget it too."

" I guess the best return I can make will be to take
myself off," muttered Hattersley, with a broad grin.
His companion smiled, and he left the room, fhis
put me on my guard. Mr Hargrave turned seriously
to me, and earnestly began, —

"Dear Mrs Huntingdon, how I have longed for, yet
dreaded, this hour ! Do not be alarmed," he added,
for my face was crimson with anger ; " I am not about
to offend you with any useless entreaties or complaints.

280 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

I am not going to presume to trouble you with the
mention of my own feelings or your perfections, but I
have something to reveal to you which you ought to
know, and which, yet, it pains me inexpressibly "

" Then don't trouble yourself to reveal it ! "

" But it is of importance "

" If so I shall hear it soon enough, especially if it is
bad news, as you seem to consider it. At present I
am going to take the children to the nursery."

" But can't you ring and send them ? "

" No ; I want the exercise of a run to the top of the
house — come, Arthur."

" But you will return ?"

" Not yet ; don't wait."

" Then when may I see you again ? "

"At lunch," said I, departing with little Helen in
one arm and leading Arthur by the hand.

He turned away muttering some sentence of im-
patient censure or complaint, in which " heartless "
was the only distinguishable word.

"What nonsense is this, Mr Hargrave?" said I,
pausing in the doorway. "What do you mean?"

" Oh, nothing — I did not intend you should hear
my soliloquy. But the fact is, Mrs Huntingdon, I have
a disclosure to make— painful for me to offer as for you
to hear — and I want you to give me a few minutes of
your attention in private at any time and place you
like to appoint. It is from no selfish motive that I ask
it, and not for any cause that could alarm your super-
human purity, therefore you need not kill me with
that look of cold and pitiless disdain. I know too well
the feelings with which the bearers of bad tidings are
commonly regarded not to "

"What is this wonderful piece of intelligence?"
said I, impatiently interrupting him. " If it is any-
thing of real importance speak it in three words before
I go."

" In three words I cannot. Send those children
away and stay with me."

" No ; keep your bad tidings to yourself. I know

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 281

it is something I don't want to hear, and something
you would displease me by telling."

" You have divined too truly, I fear, but still since
I know it I feel it my duty to disclose it to you."

" Oh, spare us both the infliction, and I will exone-
rate you from the duty. You have offered to tell ; I
have refused to hear : my ignorance will not be charged
on you."

" Be it so — you shall not hear it from me. But if
the blow fall too suddenly upon you when it comes,
remember I wished to soften it ! "

I left him. I was determined his words should not
alarm me. What could he of all men have to reveal
that was of importance for me to hear? it was no
doubt some exaggerated tale about my unfortunate
husband that he wished to make the most of to serve
his own bad purposes.

6th. — He has not alluded to this momentous mystery
since, and I have seen no reason to repent of my
unwillingness to hear it. The threatened blow has
not been struck yet, and I do not greatly fear it. At
present I am pleased with Arthur : he has not posi-
tively disgraced himself for upwards of a fortnight, and
all this last week has been so very moderate in his
indulgence at table that I can perceive a marked differ-
ence in his general temper and appearance. Dare I
hope this will continue ?

CHAPTER XXXIII

SEVENTH. — Yes, I will hope ! To-night I heard
Grimsby and Hattersley grumbling together about the
inhospitality of their host. They did not know I was
near, for I happened to be standing behind the curtain
in the bow of the window, watching the moon rising
over the clump of tall, dark elm-trees below the lawn,
and wondering why Arthur was so sentimental as to
stand without, leaning against the outer pillar of the
portico, apparently watching it too.

282 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" So, I suppose we've seen the last of our merry
carousals in this house/' said Mr Hattersley ; " I
thought his good fellowship wouldn't last long. But,"
added he, laughing, " I didn't expect it would meet its
end this way. I rather thought our pretty hostess
would be setting up her porcupine quills, and threaten-
ing to turn us out of the house if we didn't mind our
manners."

' ' You didn't foresee this, then ? " answered Grimsby
with a guttural chuckle. "But he'll change again
when he's sick of her. If we come here a year or
two hence, we shall have all our own way, you'll
see."

" I don't know," replied the other : " she's not the
style of woman you soon tire of — but be that as it may,
it's devilish provoking now that we can't be jolly,
because he chooses to be on his good behaviour."

' ' It's all these cursed women ! " muttered Grimsby.
' ' They're the very bane of the world ! They bring
trouble and discomfort wherever they come, with their
false, fair faces and their deceitful tongues."

At this juncture I issued from my retreat, and smil-
ing on Mr Grimsby as I passed, left the room and went
out in search of Arthur. Having seen him bend his
course towards the shrubbery, I followed him thither,
and found him just entering the shadowy walk. I was
so light of heart, so overflowing with affection, that I
sprang upon him and clasped him in my arms. This
startling conduct had a singular effect upon him : first,
he murmured, ' ' Bless you, darling ! " and returned
my close embrace with a fervour like old times, and
then he started, and, in a tone of absolute terror,
exclaimed, —

' ' Helen ! What the devil is this ? " and I saw, by
the faint light gleaming through the overshadowing
tree, that he was positively pale with the shock.

How strange that the instinctive impulse of affection
should come first, and then the shock of the surprise !
It shows, at least, that the affection is genuine : he is
not sick of me yet.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 283

" I startled you, Arthur," said I, laughing in my
glee. " How nervous you are ! "

"What the deuce did you do it for?" cried he,
quite testily, extricating himself from my arms, and
wiping his forehead with his handkerchief. " Go
hack, Helen — go back directly ! You'll get your death
of cold ! "

" I won't — till I've told you what I came for. They
are blaming you, Arthur, for your temperance and
sobriety, and I'm come to thank you for it. They say
it is all ' these cursed women,' and that we are the
bane of the world ; but don't let them laugh or
grumble you out of your good resolutions, or your
affection for me."

He laughed. I squeezed him in my arms again, and
cried in tearful earnest, —

" Do — do persevere ! and I'll love you better than
ever I did before !"

"Well, well, I will !" said he, hastily kissing me.
"There now, go. You mad creature, how could you
come out in your light evening dress this chill autumn
night?"

" It is a glorious night," said I.

" It is a night that will give you your death, in
another minute. Run away, do ! "

" Do you see my death among those trees, Arthur ? "
said I, for he was gazing intently at the shrubs, as if he
saw it coming, and I was reluctant to leave him, in my
new-found happiness, and revival of hope and love.
But he grew angry at my delay, so I kissed him and
ran back to the house.

I was in such a good humour that night : Milicent
told me I was the life of the party, and whispered she
had never seen me so brilliant. Certainly, I talked
enough for twenty, and smiled upon them all. Grinisby,
Hattersley, Hargrave, Lady Lowborough — all sh.-uvil
my sisterly kindness. Grimsby stared and wondcml :
Hattersley laughed and jested (in spite of the lit tit-
wine he had born suffered to imbibe), but still, behaved
as well as lie knew how ; Hargrave and Aiuuihella,

284 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

from different motives and in different ways, emulated
me, and doubtless both surpassed me, the former in his
discursive versatility and eloquence, the latter in bold-
ness and animation at least. Miliceut, delighted to
see her husband, her brother, and her over-estimated
friend acquitting themselves so well, was lively and gay
too, in her quiet way. Even Lord Lowborough caught
the general contagion : his dark, greenish eyes were
lighted up beneath their moody brows ; his sombre
countenance was beautified by smiles ; all traces of
gloom, and proud or cold reserve had vanished for the
time ; and he astonished us all, not only by his general
cheerfulness and animation, but by the positive flashes
of true force and brilliance he emitted from time to
time. Arthur did not talk much, but he laughed, and
listened to the rest, and was in perfect good-humour,
though not excited by wine. So that, altogether, we
made a very merry, innocent and entertaining party.

9th. — Yesterday, when Rachel came to dress me for
dinner, I saw that she had been crying. I wanted to
know the cause of it, but she seemed reluctant to tell.
Was she unwell ? No. Had she heard bad news from
her friends ? No. Had any of the servants vexed her ?

' ' Oh, no, ma'am ! " she answered — " it's not for
myself."

' ' What then, Rachel ? Have you been reading
novels ? "

" Bless you, no ! " said she with a sorrowful shake
of the head ; and then she sighed and continued, " But
to tell you the truth, ma'am, I don't like master's ways
of going on."

" What do you mean, Rachel ? — He's going on very
properly — at present."

" Well, ma'am, if you think so, it's right."

And she went on dressing my hair, in a hurried way,
quite unlike her usual calm, collected manner, — mur-
muring, half to herself, she was sure it was beautiful
hair, she " could like to see 'em match it." When it
was done, she fondly stroked it, and gently patted
my head.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 285

" Is that affectionate ebullition intended for my hair,
or myself, nurse?" said I, laughingly turning round
upon her ; — but a tear was even now in her eye.

" What do you mean, Rachel ? " I exclaimed.

" Well, ma'am, I don't know, — but if "

"If what?"

"Well, if I was you, I wouldn't have that Lady
Lowborough in the house another minute — not another
minute I wouldn't ! "

I was thunderstruck ; but before I could recover
from the shock sufficiently to demand an explanation,
Milicent entered my room — as she frequently does,
when she is dressed before me ; and she stayed with
me till it was time to go down. She must have found
me a very unsociable companion this time, for Rachel's
last words rang in my ears. But still, I hoped — I
trusted they had no foundation but in some idle rumour
of the servants from what they had seen in Lady Low-
borough's manner last month ; or perhaps, from some-
thing that had passed between their master and her
during her former visit. At dinner, I narrowly observed
both her and Arthur, and saw nothing extraordinary in
the conduct of either — nothing calculated to excite
suspicion, except in distrustful minds — which mine
was not, and therefore I would not suspect.

Almost immediately after dinner, Annabella went
out with her husband to share his moon-light ramble,
for it was a splendid evening like the last. Mr Har-
grave entered the drawing-room a little before the
others, and challenged me to a game of chess. He
did it without any of that sad, but proud humility he
usually assumes in addressing me, unless he is excited
with wine. I looked at his face to see if that was the
case now. His eye met mine keenly, but steadily :
there was something about liim I did not understand,
but he seemed sober enough. Not choosing to engage
with him, I referred him to Milicent.

" She plays badly," said he ; "I want to match my
skill with yours. Come now ! — you can't pretend you
are reluctant to lay down your work — 1 know you

286 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

never take it up except to pass an idle hourj when
there is nothing better you can do."

" But chess players are so unsociable," I objected ;
"they are no company for any but themselves."

"There is no one here — but Milicent, and she

" Oh, I shall be delighted to watch you ! " cried our
mutual friend — ff Two such players — it will be quite a
treat ! I wonder which will conquer."

I consented.

" Now, Mrs Huntingdon," said Hargrave, as he
arranged the men on the board, speaking distinctly,
and with a peculiar emphasis, as if he had a double
meaning to all his words, " you are a good player, —
but I am a better : we shall have a long game, and you
will give me some trouble ; but I can be as patient as
you, and, in the end, I shall certainly win." He fixed
his eyes upon me with a glance I did not like — keen,
crafty, bold, and almost impudent ; already half trium-
phant in his anticipated success.

" I hope not, Mr Hargrave ! " returned I, with vehe-
mence that must have startled Milicent at least ; but
he only smiled and murmured, —

" Time will show."

We set to work ; he, sufficiently interested in the
game, but calm and fearless in the consciousness of
superior skill ; I, intensely eager to disappoint his ex-
pectations, for I considered this the type of a more
serious contest — as I imagined he did — and I felt an
almost superstitious dread of being beaten : at all
events, I could ill endure that present success should
add one tittle to his conscious power (his insolent self-
confidence, I ought to say), or encourage, for a
moment, his dream of future conquest. His play was
cautious and deep, but I struggled hard against him.
For some time the combat was doubtful ; at length, to
my joy, the victory seemed inclining to my side : I had
taken several of his best pieces, and manifestly baffled
his projects. He put his hand to his brow and paused,
in evident perplexity. I rejoiced in my advantage,
but dared not glory in it yet. At length, he lifted his

THE TENANT OF W1LDFKLL HALL 287

head, and, quietly making his move, looked at me and
said, calmly, —

"Now, you think you will win, don't you?"

" I hope so," replied I, taking his pawn that he had
pushed into the way of my bishop with so careless uu
air that I thought it was an oversight, but was not
generous enough, under the circumstances, to direct
his attention to it, and too heedless, at the moment,
to foresee the after consequences of my move.

" It is those bishops that trouble me," said he ;
" but the bold knight can overleap the reverend
gentleman," taking my last bishop with his knight ;
"and, now, those sacred persons once removed, I
shall carry all before me."

" Oh, Walter, how you talk ! " cried Milicent ; " she
has far more pieces than you still."

" I intend to give you some trouble, yet," said I ;
" and, perhaps, sir, you will find yourself checkmated
before you are aware. Look to your queen."

The combat deepened. The game was a long one,
and I did give him some trouble : but he was a better
player than I.

" What keen gamesters you are ! " said Mr Hatters-
ley, who had now entered, and been watching us for
some time. " Why, Mrs Huntingdon, your hand
trembles as if you had staked your all upon it ! and
Walter — you dog — you look as deep and cool as if
you were certain of success — and as keen and cruel
as if you would drain her heart's blood ! But if I
were you, I wouldn't beat her, for very fear : she'll
hate you if you do — she will, by Heaven ! I see it in
her eye."

"Hold your tongue, will you!" said 1 — his talk
distracted me, for I was driven to extremities. A few
more moves, and I was inextricably entangled in the
snare of my antagonist.

" Check," — cried he : I sought in agony some means
of escape — " mate ! " he added, quietly, but with evi-
dent delight. He had suspended the utterance of that
last fatal syllable the better to enjoy my dismay. I

288 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

was foolishly disconcerted by the event. Hattersley
laughed ; Milicent was troubled to see me so disturbed.
Hargrave placed his hand on mine that rested on the
table, and squeezing it with a firm but gentle pressure,
murmured, " Beaten — beaten ! " and gazed into my
face with a look where exultation was blended with an
expression of ardour and tenderness yet more insulting.

" No, never, Mr Hargrave ! " exclaimed I, quickly
withdrawing my hand.

"Do you deny?" replied he, smilingly pointing to
the board.

' ' No, no," I answered, recollecting how strange my
conduct must appear ; " you have beaten me in that
game."

" Will you try another, then ? " " No."

" You acknowledge my superiority ? "

"Yes — as a chess-player."

I rose to resume my work.

" Where is Annabella ? " said Hargrave, gravely,
after glancing round the room.

" Gone out with Lord Lowborough," answered I, for
he looked at me for a reply.

" And not yet returned ! " he said seriously.

"I suppose not."

" Where is Huntingdon ?" looking round again.

"Gone out with Grimsby — as you know," said
Hattersley, suppressing a laugh, which broke forth as
he concluded the sentence.

Why did he laugh ? Why did Hargrave connect
them thus together? Was it true, then ! And was
this the dreadful secret he had wished to reveal to
me ? I must know — and that quickly. I instantly
rose and left the room to go in search of Rachel, and
demand an explanation of her words ; but Mr Hargrave
followed me into the ante-room, and before I could
open its outer door, gently laid his hand upon the
lock.

" May I tell you something, Mrs Huntingdon ? "
said he, in a subdued tone, with serious downcast
eyes.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 289

"If it be anything worth hearing," replied I,
struggling to be composed, for I trembled in every
limb.

He quietly pushed a chair towards me. I merely
leant my hand upon it, and bid him go on.

" Do not be alarmed," said he : " what I wish to
say is nothing in itself; and I will leave you to draw
your own inferences from it. You say that Annabella
is not yet returned ? "

" Yes, yes — go on ! " said I, impatiently, for I
feared my forced calmness would leave me before
the end of his disclosure, whatever it might be.

" And you hear," continued he, ' ' that Huntingdon
is gone out with Grimsby ? "

"Well?"

" I heard the latter say to your husband — or the
man who calls himself so "

"Go on, sir !"

He bowed submissively, and continued, " I heard
him say, — ' I shall manage it, you'll see ! They're
gone down by the water ; I shall meet them there,
and tell him I want a bit of talk with him about
some things that we needn't trouble the lady with :
and she'll say she can be walking back to the house ;
and then I shall apologise, you know, and all that,
and tip her a wink to take the way of the shrubbery.
I'll keep him talking there, about those matters I
mentioned, and anything else I can think of, as
long as I can, and then bring him round the other
way, stopping to look at the trees, the fields, and
anything else I can find to discourse of.'" Mr
Hargrave paused, and looked at me.

Without a word of comment or further questioning,
I rose, and darted from the room and out of the house.
The torment of suspense was not to be endured : I
would not suspect my husband falsely, on this man's
accusation, and I would not trust him unworthily — I
must know the truth at once. I flew to the shrubbery.
Scarcely had I reached it, when a sound of voices
arrested my breathless speed.

290 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" We have lingered too long ; he will be back,"
said Lady Lowborough's voice.

" Surely not, dearest ! " was his reply : " but you
can run across the lawn, and get in as quietly as you
can : I'll follow in a while."

My knees trembled under me ; my brain swam
round ; I was ready to fnint. She must not see me
thus. I shrunk among the bushes, and leant against
the trunk of a tree to let her pass.

"Ah, Huntingdon!" said she reproachfully, paus-
ing where I had stood with him the night before — " it
was here you kissed that woman ! " she looked back
into the leafy shade. Advancing thence, he answered,
with a careless laugh, —

" Well, dearest, I couldn't help it. You know I
must keep straight with her as long as I can. Haven't
I seen you kiss your dolt of a husband scores of times ?
— and do I ever complain ? "

" But tell me, don't you love her still — a little ? "
said she, placing her hand on his arm, looking ear-
nestly in his face — for I could see them plainly, the
moon shining full upon them from between the
branches of the tree that sheltered me.

" Not one bit, by all that's sacred ! " he replied,
kissing her glowing cheek.

" Good heavens, I must be gone ! " cried she, sud-
denly breaking from him, and away she flew.

There he stood before me ; but I had not strength
to confront him now ; my tongue cleaved to the roof
of my mouth, I was well nigh sinking to the earth,
and I almost wondered he did not hear the beating of
my heart above the low sighing of the wind, and the
fitful rustle of the falling leaves. My senses seemed
to fail me, but still I saw his shadowy form pass before
me, and through the rushing sound in my ears, I dis-
tinctly heard him say, as he stood looking up the lawn, —

" There goes the fool! Run, Annabella, run!
There — in with you ! Ah ! he didn't see ! That's
right, Grimsby, keep him back ! " And even his low
laugh reached me as he walked away.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 291

" God help me now ! " I murmured, sinking on my
knees among the damp weeds and brushwood that
surrounded me, and looking up at the moonlit sky,
through the scant foliage above. It seemed all dim
and quivering now to my darkened sight. My burn-
ing, bursting heart strove to pour forth its agony to
God, but could not frame its anguish into prayer ;
until a gust of wind swept over me, which, while it
scattered the dead leaves, like blighted hopes, around,
cooled my forehead, and seemed a little to revive my
sinking frame. Then, when I lifted up my soul in
speechless, earnest supplication, some heavenly influ-
ence seemed to strengthen me within : I breathed
more freely ; my vision cleared ; I saw distinctly
the pure moon shining on, and the light clouds
skimming the clear, dark sky ; and then, I saw the
eternal stars twinkling down upon me ; 1 knew their
God was mine, and He was strong to save and swift to
hear. " I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee,"
seemed whispered from above their myriad orbs. No,
no ; I felt He would not leave me comfortless : in spite
of earth and hell I should have strength for all my
trials, and win a glorious rest at last !

Refreshed, invigorated, if not composed, I rose and
returned to the house. Much of my newborn strength
and courage forsook me, I confess, as I entered it, and
shut out the fresh wind and the glorious sky : every-
thing I saw and heard seemed to sicken my heart —
the hall, the lamp, the staircase, the doors of the
different apartments, the social sound of talk and
laughter from the drawing-room. How could I bear
my future life ! In this house, among those people —
O how could I endure to live ! John just then entered
the hall, and seeing me, told me he had been sent in
search of me, adding that he had taken in the tea, and
master wished to know if I were coming.

"Ask Mrs Hattersley to be so kind as to make the
tea, John," said I. "Say I am not well to-night, and
wish to be excused."

I retired into the large, empty dining-room, where

292 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

all was silence and darkness, but for the soft sighing
of the wind without, and the faint gleam of moonlight
that pierced the blinds and curtains ; and there I
walked rapidly up and down, thinking of my bitter
thoughts alone. How different was this from the
evening of yesterday ! That, it seems, was the last
expiring flash of my life's happiness. Poor, blinded
fool that I was, to be so happy 1 I could now see the
reason of Arthur's strange reception of me in the
shrubbery ; the burst of kindness was for his paramour,
the start of horror for his wife. Now, too, I could
better understand the conversation between Hattersley
and Grimsby ; it was doubtless of his love for her they
spoke, not for me.

I heard the drawing-room door open ; a light quick
step came out of the ante-room, crossed the hall, and
ascended the stairs. It was Milicent, poor Milicent,
gone to see how I was — no one else cared for me ; but
she still was kind. I shed no tears before, but now
they came, fast and free. Thus she did me good,
without approaching me. Disappointed in her search
I heard her come down, more slowly than she had
ascended. Would she come in there, and find me out?
No, she turned in the opposite direction and re-entered
the drawing-room. I was glad, for I knew not how to
meet her, or what to say. I wanted no confidante in
my distress. I deserved" none, and I wanted none. I
had taken the burden upon myself ; let me bear it alone.

As the usual hour of retirement approached I dried
my eyes, and tried to clear my voice and calm my
mind. I must see Arthur to-night, and speak to him ;
but 1 would do it calmly : there should be no scene —
nothing to complain or to boast of to his companions —
nothing to laugh at with his lady-love. When the
company were retiring to their chambers I gently
opened the door, and just as he passed I beckoned
him in.

" What's to do with you, Helen ? " said he. " Why
couldn't you come to make tea for us ? and what the
deuce are you here for, in the dark ? What ails you,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 293

young woman ; you look like a ghost ! " he continued,
surveying me by the light of his candle.

" No matter," 1 answered, " to you ; you have no
longer any regard for me, it appears ; and I have no
longer any for you."

"Hal-low ! what the devil is this?" he muttered.

" I would leave you to-morrow," continued I, " and
never again come under this roof, but for my child " —
I paused a moment to steady my voice.

" What in the devil's name is this, Helen ? " cried
he. " What can you be driving at ? "

" You know, perfectly well. Let us waste no time
in useless explanation, but tell me, will you —

He vehemently swore he knew nothing about it, and
insisted upon hearing what poisonous old woman had
been blackening his name, and what infamous lies I
had been fool enough to believe.

" Spare yourself the trouble of forswearing yourself
and racking your brains to stifle truth with falsehood,"
I coldly replied. " I have trusted to the testimony of
no third person. I was in the shrubbery this evening,
and I saw and heard for myself."

This was enough. He uttered a suppressed exclama-
tion of consternation and dismay, and muttering, " I
shall catch it now ! " set down his candle on the nearest
chair, and, rearing his back against the wall, stood
confronting me with folded arms.

" Well, what then?" said he, with the calm insolence
of mingled shamelessness and desperation.

"Only this," returned I: "will you let me
take our child and what remains of my fortune,
and go ? "

" Go where?"

" Anywhere, where he will be safe from your con-
taminating influence, and I shall be delivered from
your presence, and you from mine."

"No."

"Will you let me have the child then, without the
money ? "

" No, nor yourself without the child. Do you think

294 THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL

I'm going to be made the talk of the country, for your
fastidious caprices ? "

" Then I must stay here, to be hated and despised.
But henceforth we are husband and wife only in the
name."

" Very good."

" I am your child's mother, and your housekeeper,
nothing more. So you need not trouble yourself any
longer to feign the love you cannot feel : I will exact
no more heartless caresses from you, nor offer, nor
endure them either. I will not be mocked with the
empty husk of conjugal endearments, when you have
given the substance to another ! "

" Very good, if you please. We shall see who will
tire first, my lady."

' e If I tire, it will be of living in the world with you :
not of living without your mockery of love. When
you tire of your sinful ways, and show yourself truly
repentant, I will forgive you, 'and, perhaps, try to love
you again, though that will be hard indeed."

" Humph ! and meantime you will go and talk me
over to Mrs Hargrave, and write long letters to aunt
Maxwell to complain of the wicked wretch you have
married ? "

" I shall complain to no one. Hitherto, I have
struggled hard to hide your vices from every eye, and
invest you with virtues you never possessed ; but now
you must look to yourself."

I left him muttering bad language to himself, and
went up stairs.

"You are poorly, ma'am," said Rachel, surveying
me with deep anxiety.

" It is too true, Rachel," said I, answering her sad
looks rather than her words.

" I knew it, or I wouldn't have mentioned such a
thing."

" But don't you trouble yourself about it," said I,
kissing her pale, time-wasted cheek ; " I can bear it
better than you imagine."

" Yes, you were always for ' bearing.' But if I was

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 296

you I wouldn't bear it ; I'd give way to it, and cry right
hard ! and I'd talk too, I just would — I'd let him know
what it was to "

" I have talked," said I : " I've said enough. "

"Then I'd cry," persisted she. "1 wouldn't look
so white and so calm, and burst my heart with keeping
it in."

" I have cried," said I, smiling, in spite of my
misery ; " and I am calm now, really, so don't discom-
pose me again, nurse : let us say no more about it, and
don't mention it to the servants. There, you may go
now. Good night ; and don't disturb your rest for
me : I shall sleep well — if I can."

Notwithstanding this resolution, I found my bed so
intolerable that, before two o'clock, I rose, and, light-
ing my candle by the rushlight that was still burning,
I got my desk and sat down in my dressing-gown to
recount the events of the past evening. It was better
to be so occupied than to be lying in bed torturing my
brain with recollections of the far past and anticipa-
tions of the dreadful future. I have found relief in
describing the very circumstances that have destroyed
my peace, as well as the little trivial details attendant
upon their discovery. No sleep I could have got this
night would have done so much towards composing my
mind, and preparing me to meet the trials of the day —
I fancy so, at least ; and yet, when I cease writing, I
find my head aches terribly ; and when I look into the
glass I am startled at my haggard, worn appearance.

Rachel has been to dress me, and says I have had a
sad night of it she can see. Milicent has just looked
in to ask me how 1 was. I told her I was better, but
to excuse my appearance admitted I had had a restless
night. I wish this day were over ! I shudder at the
thoughts of going down to breakfast. How shall I
encounter them all ? Yet let me remember it is not I
that am guilty : I have no cause to fear ; and if they
scorn me as the victim of their guilt, I can pity their
folly and despise their scorn.

296 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

CHAPTER XXXIV

EVENING. — Breakfast passed well over, I was calm and
cool throughout. I answered composedly all inquiries
respecting my health ; and whatever was unusual in
my look or manner was generally attributed to the
trifling indisposition that had occasioned my early
retirement last night. But how am I to get over the
ten or twelve days that must yet elapse before they go ?
Yet why so long for their departure ? When they are
gone, how shall I get through the mouths or years of
my future life in company with that man — my greatest
enemy? for none could injure me as he has done.
Oh ! when I think how fondly, how foolishly I have
loved him, how madly I have trusted him, how con-
stantly I have laboured, and studied, and prayed, and
struggled for his advantage ; and how cruelly he has
trampled on my love, betrayed my trust, scorned my
prayers and tears, and efforts for his preservation,
crushed my hopes, destroyed my youth's best feelings,
and doomed me to a life of hopeless misery — as far as
man can do it— it is not enough to say that I no longer
love my husband — I HATE him ! The word stares me
in the face like a guilty confession, but it is true : I
hate him — I hate him ! But God have mercy on his
miserable soul ! and make him see and feel his guilt —
I ask no other vengeance ! if he could but fully know
and truly feel my wrongs, I should be well avenged,
and I could freely pardon all ; but he is so lost, so
hardened in his heartless depravity, that in this life I
believe he never will. But it is useless dwelling on
this theme : let me seek once more to dissipate reflection
in the minor details of passing events.

Mr Hargrave has annoyed me all day long with his
serious, sympathising, and (as he thinks) unobtrusive
politeness — if it were more obtrusive it would trouble
me less, for then I could snub him ; but, as it is, he
contrives to appear so really kind and thoughtful that
I cannot do so without rudeness and seeming ingrati-

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 297

tude. I sometimes think I ought to give him credit
for the good feeling he simulates so well ; and then
again, I think it is my duty to suspect him under the
peculiar circumstances in which I am placed. His
kindness may not all be feigned, but still, let not the
purest impulse of gratitude to him, induce me to
forget myself; let me remember the game of chess,
the expressions he used on the occasion, and those
indescribable looks of his, that so justly roused my
indignation, and I think I shall be safe enough. I
have done well to record them so minutely.

I think he wishes to find an opportunity of speaking
to me alone : he has seemed to be on the watch all
day ! but I have taken care to disappoint him ; not
that I fear anything he could say, but I have trouble
enough without the addition of his insulting consola-
tions, condolences, or whatever else he might attempt ;
and, for Milicent's sake, I do not wish to quarrel with
him. He excused himself with going out to shoot
with the other gentlemen in the morning, under the
pretext of having letters to write ; and instead of
retiring for that purpose into the library, he sent for
his desk into the morning-room, where I was seated
with Milicent and Lady Lowborough. They had be-
taken themselves to their work ; I, less to divert my
mind than to deprecate conversation, had provided
myself with a book. Milicent saw that I wished to be
quiet, and accordingly let me alone. Aunabella,
doubtless, saw it too ; but that was no reason why she
should restrain her tongue, or curb her cheerful
spirits : she accordingly chatted away, addressing her-
self almost exclusively to me, and with the utmost
assurance and familiarity, growing the more animated
and friendly, the colder and briefer my answers be-
came. Mr Hargrave saw that I could ill endure it ;
and, looking up from his desk, he answered her ques-
tions and observations for me, as far as he could, and
attempted to transfer her social attentions from me to
himself; but it would not do. Perhaps, she thought
I had a headache and could not bear to talk — at any

298 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

rate, she saw that her loquacious vivacity annoyed me,
as I could tell by the malicious pertinacity with which
she persisted. But I checked it effectually, by putting
into her hand the book I had been trying to read, on
the fly-leaf of which I had hastily scribbled, —

" I am too well acquainted with your character and
conduct to feel any real friendship for you, and, as I
am without your talent for dissimulation, I cannot
assume the appearance of it. I must, therefore, beg
that hereafter all familiar intercourse may cease be-
tween us ; and if I still continne to treat you with
civility, as if you were a woman worthy of considera-
tion and respect, understand that it is out of regard for
your cousin Milicent's feelings, not for yours."

Upon perusing this, she turned scarlet, and bit her
lip. Covertly tearing away the leaf, she crumpled
it up and put it in the fire, and then employed herself
in turning over the pages of the book, and, really or
apparently, perusing its contents. In a little while
Milicent announced it her intention to repair to the
nursery, and asked if I would accompany her.

" Aunabella will excuse us," said she, " she's busy
reading."

"No, I wont," cried Annabella, suddenly looking
up, and throwing her book on the table. " I want to
speak to Helen a minute. You may go, Milicent, and
she'll follow in a while." (Milicent went.) "Will
you oblige me, Helen?" continued she.

Her impudence astounded me ; but I complied, and
followed her into the library. She closed the door,
and walked up to the fire.

" Who told you this 1 " said she.

" No one : I am not incapable of seeing for myself."

" Ah, you are suspicious ! " cried she, smiling, with
a gleam of hope — hitherto, there had been a kind of
desperation in her hardihood ; now she was evidently
relieved.

" If I were suspicious," I replied, " I should have
discovered your infamy long before. No, Lady Low-
borough, I do not found my charge upon suspicion."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 299

" On what do you found it then ? " said she, throw-
ing herself into an arm-chair, and stretching out her
feet to the fender, with an obvious effort to appear
composed.

"I enjoy a moonlight ramble as well as you/' I
answered, steadily fixing my eyes upon her : " and
the shrubbery happens to be one of my favourite
resorts."

She coloured again, excessively, and remained silent,
pressing her finger against her teeth, and gazing into
the fire. I watched her for a few moments with a feel-
ing of malevolent gratification ; then, moving towards
the door, I calmly asked if she had anything more to
say.

" Yes, yes ! " cried she eagerly, starting up from
her reclining posture. " I want to know if you will
tell Lord Lowborough ? "

" Suppose I do?"

" Well, if you are disposed to publish the matter, J
cannot dissuade you, of course — but there will be
terrible work if you do — and if you don't, I shall think
you the most generous of mortal beings — and if there
is anything in the world I can do for you — anything
short of " she hesitated.

" Short of renouncing your guilty connection with
my husband, I suppose you mean," said I.

She paused, in evident disconcertion and perplexity,
mingled with anger she dared not show.

" I cannot renounce what is dearer than life," she
muttered, in a low, hurried tone. Then, suddenly rais-
ing her head and fixing her gleaming eyes upon me, she
continued earnestly, " But Helen — or Mrs Huntingdon,
or whatever you would have me call you — will you tell
him ? If you are generous, here is a fitting opportunity
for the exercise of your magnanimity : if you are proud,
here am I — your rival — ready to acknowledge myself
your debtor for an act of the most noble forbearance."

" I shall not tell him."

" You will not ! " cried she delightedly. " Accept
my sincere thanks, ehen ! "

300 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

She sprang up, and offered me her hand. I drew
back.

' e Give me no thanks ; it is not for your sake that I
refrain. Neither is it an act of any forbearance : I
have no wish to publish your shame. I should be sorry
to distress your husband with the knowledge of it."

"And Milicent? will you tell her?"

" No, on the contrary I shall do my utmost to con-
ceal it from her. 1 would not for much that she should
know the infamy and disgrace of her relation ! "

" You use hard words, Mrs Huntingdon — but I can
pardon you."

"And now, Lady Lowborough," continued I, "let
me counsel you to leave this house as soon as possible.
You must be aware that your continuance here is ex-
cessively disagreeable to me — not for Mr Huntingdon's
sake/' said I, observing the dawn of a malicious smile
of triumph on her face — " You are welcome to him, if
you like him, as far as I am concerned — but because it
is painful to be always disguising my true sentiments
respecting you, and straining to keep up an appearance
of civility and respect towards one for whom 1 have
not the most distant shadow of esteem ; and because,
if you stay, your conduct cannot possibly remain con-
cealed much longer from the only two persons in the
house who do not know it already. And, for your
husband's sake, Annabella, and even for your own, I
wish — I earnestly advise and entreat you to break off
this unlawful connection at once, and return to your
duty while you may, before the dreadful conse-
quences "

" Yes, yes, of course," said she, interrupting me
with a gesture of impatience. — "But I cannot go,
Helen, before the time appointed for our departure.
What possible pretext could I frame for such a thing ?
Whether I proposed going back alone — which Low-
borough would not hear of — or taking him with me,
the very circumstance itself would be certain to excite
suspicion — and when our visit is so nearly at an end,
too — little more than a week — surely, you can endure

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 301

my presence so long ! I will not annoy you with any
more of my friendly impertinences."

" Well, I have nothing more to say to you."

" Have you mentioned this affair to Huntingdon?"
asked she, as I was leaving the room.

" How dare you mention his name to me ! " was the
only answer I gave.

No words have passed between us since, but such as
outward decency or pure necessity demanded.

CHAPTER XXXV

NINETEENTH. — In proportion as Lady Lowborough
finds she has nothing to fear from me, and as the
time of departure draws nigh, the more audacious and
insolent she becomes. She does not scruple to speak
to my husband with affectionate familiarity in my
presence, when no one else is by, and is particularly
fond of displaying her interest in his health and wel-
fare, or in anything that concerns him, as if for the
purpose of contrasting her kind solicitude with my cold
indifference. And he rewards her by such smiles and
glances, such whispered words, or boldly-spoken in-
sinuations, indicative of his sense of her goodness and
my neglect, as makes the blood rush into my face, in
spite of myself — for I would be utterly regardless of it
all — deaf and blind to everything that passes between
them, since the more I show myself sensible of their
wickedness, the more she triumphs in her victory, and
the more he flatters himself that I love him devotedly
still, in spite of my pretended indifference. On such
occasions I have sometimes been startled by a subtle,
fiendish suggestion inciting me to show him the con-
trary by a seeming encouragement of Hargrave's
advances ; but such ideas are banished in a moment
with horror and self-abasement ; and then 1 hate him
tenfold more than ever for having brought me to this !
— God pardon me for it — and all my sinful thoughts !
Instead of being humbled and purified by my afflictions,

302 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

I feel that they are turning my nature into gall. This
must be my fault as much as theirs that wrong me.
No true Christian could cherish such bitter feelings as
I do against him and her — especially the latter : him,
I still feel that I could pardon — freely, gladly, — on the
slightest token of repentance ; but she — words cannot
utter my abhorrence. Reason forbids, but passion
urges strongly ; and I must pray and struggle long ere
I subdue it.

It is well that she is leaving to-morrow, for I could
not well endure her presence for another day. This
morning, she rose earlier than usual. 1 found her in
the room alone, when I went down to breakfast.

"Oh Helen! is it you?" said she, turning as I
entered.

I gave an involuntary start back on seeing her, at
which she uttered a short laugh, observing, —

" I think we are both disappointed."

1 came forward and busied myself with the breakfast-
things.

' ' This is the last day I shall burden your hospi-
tality," said she, as she seated herself at the table.
" Ah, here comes one that will not rejoice at it ! "
she murmured, half to herself, as Arthur entered the
room.

He shook hands with her and wished her good morn-
ing: then, looking lovingly in her face, and still retaining
her hand in his, murmured pathetically, —

" The last— last day ! "

" Yes," said she with some asperity ; " and I rose
early to make the best of it — I have been here alone
this half hour, and you, you lazy creature "

" Well, I thought I was early too," said he — " but,"
dropping his voice almost to a whisper, " you see we
are not alone."

" We never are," returned she. But they were
almost as good as alone, for I was now standing at the
window, watching the clouds, and struggling to suppress
my wrath.

Some more words passed between them, which,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 303

happily, I did not overhear ; but Annabella had the
audacity to come and place herself beside me, and
even to put her hand upon ray shoulder and say
softly, —

" You need not grudge him to me, Helen, for I love
him more than ever you could do."

This put me beside myself. I took her hand and
violently dashed it from me, with an expression of
abhorrence and indignation that could not be sup-
pressed. Startled, almost appalled, by this sudden
outbreak, she recoiled in silence. I would have given
way to my fury and said more, but Arthur's low laugh
recalled me to myself. I checked the half uttered
invective, and scornfully turned away, regretting that
I had given him so much amusement. He was still
laughing when Mr Hargrave made his appearance.
How much of the scene he had witnessed I do not
know, for the door was ajar when he entered. He
greeted his host and his cousin both coldly, and me
with a glance intended to express the deepest sympathy
mingled with high admiration and esteem.

" How much allegiance do you owe to that man ? "
he asked below his breath, as he stood beside me at the
window, affecting to be making observations on the
weather.

" None," I answered. And immediately returning
to the table, I employed myself in making the tea. He
followed, and would have entered into some kind of
conversation with me, but the other guests were now
beginning to assemble, and I took no more notice of
him, except to give him his coffee.

After breakfast, determined to pass as little of the
day as possible in company with Lady Lowborough, 1
quietly stole awav from the company and retired to
the library. Mr Hargrave followed me thither, under
pretence of coining for a book ; and first, turning to
the shelves, he selected a volume ; and then, quietly,
but by no means timidly, approaching me, he stood
beside me, resting his hand on the back of my chair,
and said sol'tly, —

304 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" And so you consider yourself free, at last? "

" Yes," said I, without moving, or raising my eyes
from my book, — " free to do any thing but offend God
and my conscience."

There was a momentary pause.

" Very right," said he ; " provided your conscience
be not too morbidly tender, and your ideas of God not
too erroneously severe ; but can you suppose it would
offend that benevolent Being to make the happiness of
one who would die for yours ? — to raise a devoted heart
from purgatorial torments to a state of heavenly bliss,
when you could do it without the slightest injury to
yourself or any other ? "

This was spoken in a low, earnest, melting tone as
he bent over me. I now raised my head ; and steadily
confronting his gaze, I answered calmly, —

" Mr Hargrave, do you mean to insult me ? "

He was not prepared for this, he paused a moment to
recover the shock ; then, drawing himself up and re-
moving his hand from my chair, he answered, with
proud sadness, —

"That was not my intention."

I just glanced towards the door, with a slight move-
ment of the head, and then returned to my book. He
immediately withdrew. This was better than if I had
answered with more words, and in the passionate spirit
to which my first impulse would have prompted. What
a good thing it is to be able to command one's temper !
I must labour to cultivate this inestimable quality :
God only knows how often I shall need it in this rough,
dark road that lies before me.

In the course of the morning, I drove over to the
Grove with the two ladies, to give Milicent an oppor-
tunity for bidding farewell to her mother and sister.
They persuaded her to stay with them the rest of the
day, Mrs Hargrave promising to bring her back in the
evening and remain till the party broke up on the
morrow. Consequently, Lady Lowborough and I had
the pleasure of returning tete-a-tete in the carriage
together. For the first mile or two we kept silence, I

THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL 305

looking out of my window, and she leaning back in her
corner. But I was not going to restrict myself to any
particular position for her : when I was tired of leaning
forward, with the cold, raw wind in my face, and sur-
veying the russet hedges, and the damp, tangled grass
of their banks, I gave it up, and leant back too. With
her usual impudence, my companion then made some
attempts to get up a conversation ; but the mono-
syllables ' yes/ or 'no,' or 'humph,' were the utmost
her several remarks could elicit from me. At last, on
her asking my opinion upon some immaterial point of
discussion, I answered, —

" Why do you wish to talk to me, Lady Lowborough ?
— you must know what I think of you."

" Well, if you will be so bitter against me," replied
she, " I can't help it ; — but I'm not going to sulk for
anybody."

Our short drive was now at an end. As soon as the
carriage door was opened, she sprang out, and went
down the park to meet the gentlemen, who were just
returning from the woods. Of course I did not follow.

But I had not done with her impudence yet : — after
dinner, I retired to the drawing-room, as usual, and
she accompanied me, but I had the two children with
me, and I gave them my whole attention, and deter-
mined to keep them till the gentlemen came, or till
Milicent arrived with her mother. Little Helen, how-
ever, was soon tired of playing, and insisted upon going
to sleep ; and while I sat on the sofa with her on my
knee, and Arthur seated beside me, gently playing with
her soft, flaxen hair, — Lady Lowborough composedly
came and placed herself on the other side.

" To-morrow, Mrs Huntingdon," said she, " you will
be delivered from my presence, which, no doubt, you
will be very glad of — it is natural you should ; — but do
you know I have rendered you a great service ? — Shall
I tell you what it is ? "

" I shall be glad to hear of any service you have
rendered me," said I, determined to be calm, for I
knew by the tone of her voice she wanted to provoke me.

306 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" Well," resumed she, " have you not observed the
salutary change in Mr Huntingdon ? Don't you see
what a sober, temperate man he is become? You saw
with regret the sad habits he was contracting, I know ;
and I know you did your utmost to deliver him from
them, — but without success, until I came to your
assistance. I told him in a few words that I could not
bear to see him degrade himself so, and that I should
cease to — no matter what I told him, — but you see the
reformation I have wrought ; and you ought to thank
me for it."

I rose, and rang for the nurse.

' ' But I desire no thanks," she continued ; " all the
return I ask is, that you will take care of him when I
am gone, and not, by harshness and neglect, drive him
back to his old courses."

I was almost sick with passion, but Rachel was now
at the door : I pointed to the children, for I could not
trust myself to speak : she took them away, and I
followed.

" Will you, Helen ? " continued the speaker.

I gave her a look that blighted the malicious smile
on her face — or checked it, at least for a moment — and
departed. In the ante-room I met Mr Hargrave. He
saw I was in no humour to be spoken to, and suffered
me to pass without a word ; but when, after a few
minutes' seclusion in the library, I had regained my
composure, and was returning, to join Mrs Hargrave
and Milicent, whom I had just heard come down stairs
and go into the drawing-room, I found him there still,
lingering in the dimly-lighted apartment, and evidently
waiting for me.

" Mrs Huntingdon," said he as I passed, " will you
allow me one word ? "

" What is it then ? — be quick if you please."

" I offended you this morning ; and J cannot live
under your displeasure/'

"Then, go, and sin no more," replied I, turning
away.

"'No, no ! " said he, hastily, setting himself before

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 307

me — " Pardon me, but I must have your forgiveness.
1 leave you to-morrow, and I may not have an oppor-
tunity of speaking to you again. I was wrong to forget
myself — and you, as 1 did ; but let me implore you to
forget and forgive my rash presumption, and think of
me as if those words had never been spoken ; for,
believe me, I regret them deeply, and the loss of your
esteem is too severe a penalty — I cannot bear it."

" Forgetfulness is not to be purchased with a wisli ;
and I cannot bestow my esteem on all who desire it,
unless they deserve it too."

" I shall think my life well spent in labouring to
deserve it, if you will but pardon this offence — Will
you ? "

" Yes."

" Yes ! but that is coldly spoken. Give me your
hand and I'll believe you. You won't? Then, Mrs
Huntingdon, you do not forgive me ! "

" Yes — here it is, and my forgiveness with it : only
— sin no more."

He pressed my cold hand with sentimental fervour,
but said nothing, and stood aside to let me pass into
the room, where all the company were now assembled.
M r Grimsby was seated near the door : on seeing me
enter, almost immediately followed by Hargrave, he
leered at me, with a glance of intolerable significance,
as I passed. I looked him in the face, till he sullenly
turned away, if not ashamed, at least confounded for
the moment. Meantime, Hattersley had seized Har-
grave by the arm, and was whispering something in
his ear — some coarse joke, no doubt, for the latter
neither laughed nor spoke in answer, but, turning
from him with a slight curl of the lip, disengaged
himself and went to his mother, who was telling Lord
Lowborough how many reasons she had to be proud of
her son.

Thank Heaven, they are all going to-morrow.

308 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

CHAPTER XXXVI

DECEMBER 20th, 1824. — This is the third anniversary
of our felicitous union. It is now two months since
our guests left us to the enjoyment of each other's
society ; and I have had nine weeks' experience of this
new phase of conjugal life — two persons living together,
as master and mistress of the house, and father and
mother of a winsome, merry little child, with the
mutual understanding that there is no love, friendship,
or sympathy between them. As far as in me lies, I
endeavour to live peaceably with him : I treat him
with unimpeachable civility, give up my convenience
to his, wherever it may reasonably be done, and con-
sult him in a business-like way on household affairs,
deferring to his pleasure and judgment, even when I
know the latter to be inferior to my own.

As for him : for the first week or two, he was peevish
and low — fretting, I suppose, over his dear Annabella's
departure — and particularly ill-tempered to me : every-
thing I did was wrong ; I was cold-hearted, hard,
insensate ; my sour, pale face was perfectly repulsive ;
my voice made him shudder ; he knew not how he
could live through the winter with me ; I should kill
him by inches. Again I proposed a separation, but it
would not do : he was not going to be the talk of all
the old gossips in the neighbourhood : he would not
have it said that he was such a brute his wife could
not live with him ; — no ; he must contrive to bear
with me.

" I must contrive to bear with you, you mean ;" said
I, " for so long as I discharge my functions of steward
and housekeeper, so conscientiously and well, without
pay and without thanks, you cannot afford to part with
me. I shall therefore remit these duties when my
bondage becomes intolerable." This threat, I thought,
would serve to keep him in check, if anything would.

I believe he was much disappointed that I did not
feel his offensive sayings more acutely, for when he

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 309

had said anything particularly well calculated to hurt
my feelings, he would stare me searchmgly in the face,
and then grumble against my " marble heart," or my
"brutal insensibility." If I had bitterly wept and
deplored his lost affection, he would, perhaps, have
condescended to pity me, and taken me into favour for
a while, just to comfort his solitude and console him
for the absence of his beloved Annabella, until he
could meet her again, or some more fitting substitute.
Thank Heaven, I am not so weak as that ! I was
infatuated once with a foolish, besotted affection, that
clung to him in spite of his unworthiness, but it is
fairly gone now — wholly crushed and withered away ;
and he has none but himself and his vices to thank
for it.

At first (in compliance with his sweet lady's injunc-
tions, I suppose), he abstained wonderfully well from
seeking to solace his cares in wine ; but at length he
began to relax his virtuous efforts, and now and then
exceeded a little, and still continues to do so — nay,
sometimes, not a little. When he is under the exciting
influence of these excesses, he sometimes fires up ami
attempts to play the brute ; and then I take little
pains to suppress my scorn and disgust: when he is
under the depressing influence of the after conse-
quences, he bemoans his sufferings and his errors, and
charges them both upon me; he knows such indulgence
injures his health, and does him more harm than good ;
but he says I drive him to it by my unnatural, un-
womanly conduct ; it will be the ruin of him in the
end, but it is all my fault ; — and then I am roused to
defend myself, sometimes, with bitter recrimination.
This is a kind of injustice I cannot patiently endure.
Have I not laboured long and hard to save him from
this very vice? would I not labour still to deliver him
from it, if I could? But could I do so by fawning
upon him and caressing him when I know that he
scorns me ? Is it my fault that I have lost my in-
fluence with him, or that he has forfeited every claim
to my regard ? And should I seek a reconciliation

310 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

with him, when, I feel that I abhor him, and that he
despises me? — a; id while he continues still to corres-
pond with Lady Lowborough, as I know he does ? No,
never, never, never ! — he may drink himself dead, but
it is NOT my fault !

Yet I do my part to save him still : I give him to
understand that drinking makes his eyes dull, and his
face red and bloated ; and that it tends to render him
imbecile in body and mind ; and if Annabella were to
see him as often as I do, she would speedily be disen-
chanted ; and that she certainly will withdraw her
favour from him, if he continues such courses. Such
a mode of admonition wins only coarse abuse for me —
and, indeed, I almost feel as if I deserved it, for I hate
to use such arguments, but they sink into his stupefied
heart, and make him pause, and ponder, and abstain,
more than anything else I could say.

At present, I am enjoying a temporary relief from
his presence : he is gone with Hargrave to join a dis-
tant hunt, and will probably not be back before to-
morrow evening. How differently I used to feel his
absence !

Mr Hargrave is still at the Grove. He and Arthur
frequently meet to pursue their rural sports together :
he often calls upon us here, and Arthur not un-
frequently rides over to him. I do not think either
of these soi-disant friends is overflowing with love for
the other ; but such intercourse serves to get the time
on, and I am very willing it should continue, as it
saves me some hours of discomfort in Arthur's society,
and gives him some better employment than the sottish
indulgence of his sensual appetites. The only objec-
tion I have to Mr Hargrave's being in the neighbour-
hood is that the fear of meeting him at the Grove
prevents me from seeing his sister so often as I other-
wise should ; for, of late, he has conducted himself
towards me with such unerring propriety, that I have
almost forgotten his former conduct. I suppose he is
striving to "win my esteem." If he continue to act
in this way, he may win it ;— but what then? The

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 311

moment he attempts to demand anything more, lie will
lose it again.

February 10th. — It is a hard, embittering thing to
have one's kind feelings and good intentions cast back
in one's teeth. I was beginning to relent towards my
wretched partner — to pity his forlorn, comfortless
condition, uualleviated as it is by the consolations of
intellectual resources and the answer of a good con-
science towards God — and to think I ought to sacrifice
my pride, and renew my efforts once again to make
his home agreeable and lead him back to the path of
virtue ; not by false professions of love, and not by
pretended remorse, but by mitigating my habitual
coldness of manner, and commuting my frigid civility
into kindness wherever an opportunity occurred ; and
not only was I beginning to think so, but I had already
begun to act upon the thought — and what was the
result? No answering spark of kindness — no awaken-
ing penitence, but an unappeasable ill-humour, and a
spirit of tyrannous exaction that increased with indul-
gence, and a lurking gleam of self-complacent triumph,
at every detection of relenting softness in my manner,
that congealed me to marble again as often as it re-
curred ; and this morning he finished the business : —
I think the petrifaction is so completely effected at
last, that nothing can melt me again. Among his
letters was one which he perused with symptoms of
unusual gratification, and then threw it across the table
to me, with the admonition, —

"There ! read that, and take a lesson by it ! "
It was in the free, dashing hand of Ijady Low-
borough. I glanced at the first page ; it seemed full
of extravagant protestations of affection ; impetuous
longings for a speedy reunion ; and impious defiance
of God's mandates, and railings against His providence
for having cast their lot asunder, and doomed them
botli to the hateful bondage of alliance with those they
could not love. He gave a slight titter on seeing me
change colour. I folded up the letter, rose, and re-
turned it to him, with no remark, but, —

312 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" Thank you — I will take a lesson by it ! "
My little Arthur was standing between his knees,
delightedly playing with the bright, ruby ring on his
finger. Urged by a sudden, imperative impulse to
deliver my son from that contaminating influence, I
caught him up in my arms and carried him with me
out of the room. Not liking this abrupt removal, the
child began to pout and cry. This was a new stab to
my already tortured heart. I would not let him go ;
but, taking him with me into the library, I shut the
door, and, kneeling on the floor beside him, I em-
braced him, kissed him, wept over him with passionate
fondness. Rather frightened than consoled by this,
he turned struggling from me and cried out aloud for
his papa. 1 released him from my arms, and never
were more bitter tears than those that now concealed
him from my blinded, burning eyes. Hearing his
cries, the father came to the room. I instantly turned
away lest he should see and misconstrue my emotion.
He swore at me, and took the now pacified child
away.

It is hard that my little darling should love him
more than me ; and that, when the well-being and
culture of my son is all I have to live for, I should see
my influence destroyed by one whose selfish affection
is more injurious than the coldest indifference or the
harshest tyranny could be. If I, for his good, deny
him some trifling indulgence, he goes to his father,
and the latter, in spite of his selfish indolence, will
even give himself some trouble to meet the child's
desires ; if 1 attempt to curb his will, or look gravely
on him for some act of childish disobedience, he knows
his other parent will smile and take his part against
me. Thus, not only have I the father's spirit in the
son to contend against, the germs of his evil tenden-
cies to search out and eradicate, and his corrupting
intercourse and example in after-life to counteract,
but already he counteracts my arduous labour for the
child's ad vantage, destroys my influence over his tender
mind, and robs me of his very love ; I had no earthly

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL SA

hope but this, and he seems to take a diabolical delight
in tearing it away.

But it is wrong to despair ; I will remember the
counsel of the inspired writer to him " that feareth
the Lord and obeyeth the voice of his servant, that
sitteth in darkness and hath no light ; let him trust
in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God."

CHAPTER XXXVII

DECEMBER 20th, 1825. — Another year is past: and I
am weary of this life. And yet I cannot wish to leave
it : whatever afflictions assail me here, I cannot wish
to go and leave my darling in this dark and wicked
world alone, without a friend to guide him through
its weary mazes, to warn him of its thousand snares,
and guard him from the perils that beset him on every
hand. I am not well fitted to be his only companion,
I know ; but there is no other to supply my place. I
am too grave to minister to his amusements and enter
into his infantile sports as a nurse or a mother ought
to do, and often his bursts of gleeful merriment
trouble and alarm me ; I see in them his father's spirit
and temperament, and I tremble for the consequences ;
and, too often, damp the innocent mirth I ought to
share. That father, on the contrary, has no weight
of sadness on his mind — is troubled with no fears, no
scruples concerning his son's future welfare ; and at
evenings especially, the times when the child sees him
the most and the oftenest, he is always particularly
jocund and open-hearted : ready to laugh and to jest
with anything or anybody — but me — and I am par-
ticularly silent and sad : therefore, of course, the child
dotes upon his seemingly joyous, amusing, ever-indul-
gent papa, and will at any time gladly exchange my
company for his. This disturbs me greatly 5 not so
much for the sake of my son's affection (though 1 do
prize that highly, and though I feel it is my right,
and know I have dune much to earn it) as for that

pj!4 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

influence over him which, for his own advantage, I
would strive to purchase and retain, and which for
very spite his father delights to rob me of, and, from
motives of mere idle egotism, is pleased to win to
himself ; making no use of it but to torment me and
ruin the child. My only consolation is, that he spends
comparatively little of his time at home, and, during
the months he passes in London or elsewhere, I have
a chance of recovering the ground 1 had lost, and
overcoming with good the evil he has wrought by his
wilful mismanagement. But then it is a bitter trial
to behold him, on his return, doing his utmost to
subvert my labours and transform my innocent, affec-
tionate, tractable darling into a selfish, disobedient,
and mischievous boy ; thereby preparing the soil for
those vices he has so successfully cultivated in his own
perverted nature.

Happily, there were none of Arthur's " friends "
invited to Grassdale last autumn : he took himself off
to visit some of them instead. I wish he would always
do so, and I wish his friends were numerous and loving
enough to keep him amongst them all the year round.
Mr Hargrave, considerably to my annoyance, did not
go with him ; but I think I have done with that gentle-
man at last.

For seven or eight months, he behaved so remark-
ably well, and managed so skilfully too, that I was
almost completely off my guard, and was really be-
ginning to look upon him as a friend, and even to
treat him as such, with certain prudent restrictions
(which I deemed scarcely necessary) ; when, presuming
upon my unsuspecting kindness, he thought he might
venture to overstep the bounds of decent moderation
and propriety that had so long restrained him. It
was on a pleasant evening at the close of May : I was
wandering in the park, and he, on seeing me there
as he rode past, made bold to enter and approach me,
dismounting and leaving his horse at the gate. This
was the first time he had ventured to come within its
inclosure since I had been left alone, without the

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 315

sanction of his mother's or sister's company, or at
least the excuse of a message from them. But he
managed to appear so calm and easy, so respectful
and self-possessed in his friendliness, that, though a
little surprised, I was neither alarmed or offended at
the unusual liberty, and he walked with me under
the ash-trees and by the water-side, and talked, with
considerable animation, good taste, and intelligence,
on many subjects, before I began to think of getting
rid of him. Then, after a pause, during which we
both stood gazing on the calm, blue water ; I revolv-
ing in my mind the best means of politely dismissing my
companion, he, no doubt, pondering otter matters
equally alien to the sweet sights and sounds that
alone were present to his senses, — he suddenly elec-
trified me by beginning in a peculiar tone, low, soft,
but perfectly distinct, to pour forth the most unequivo-
cal expressions of earnest and passionate love ; pleading
his cause with all the bold yet artful eloquence he
could summon to his aid. But I cut short his appeal,
and repulsed him so determinately, so decidedly, and
with such a mixture of scornful indignation, tempered
with cool, dispassionate sorrow and pity for his be-
nighted mind, that he withdrew, astonished, mortified,
and discomforted ; and, a few days after, I heard that
he had departed for London. He returned, however,
in eight or nine weeks — and did not entirely keep
aloof from me, but comported himself in so remark-
able a manner that his quick-sighted sister could not
fall to notice the change.

" What have you done to Walter, Mrs Huntingdon?"
said she one morning, when I had called at the Grove,
and he had just left the room after exchanging a few
words of the coldest civility. " He has been >o
extremely ceremonious and stately of late, I can't
imagine what it is all about, unless you have des-
perately offended him. Tell me what it is, that I
may be your mediator, and make you friends
again."

"I have done nothing willingly to offend him/'

316 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

said I. "If he is offended, he can best tell you
himself what it is about."

" I'll ask him," cried the giddy girl, springing up
and putting her head out of the window ; " he's only
in the garden — Walter ! "

' ' No, no, Esther ! you will seriously displease me if
you do ; and I shall leave you immediately, and not
come again for months — perhaps years."

" Did you call, Esther ? " said her brother, approach-
ing the window from without.

" Yes ; I wanted to ask you "

" Good morning, Esther " said I, taking her hand
and giving it a severe squeeze.

" To ask you," continued she, ' ' to get me a rose for
Mrs Huntingdon." He departed. "Mrs Hunting-
don," she exclaimed, turning to me and still holding
me fast by the hand, " I'm quite shocked at you —
you're just as angry, and distant, and cold as he is :
and I'm determined you shall be as good friends as
ever, before you go."

" Esther, how can you be so rude ! " cried Mrs
Hargrave, who was seated gravely knitting in her
easy chair. " Surely, you never will learn to conduct
yourself like a lady ! "

" Well, mamma, you said, yourself ' But the

young lady was silenced by the uplifted finger of her
mamma, accompanied with a very stern shake of the
head.

" Isn't she cross ? " whispered she to me ; but before
I could add my share of reproof, Mr Hargrave reap-
peared at the window with a beautiful rose in his
hand.

"Here, Esther, I've brought you the rose," said he,
extending it towards her.

" Give it her yourself, you blockhead ! " cried she,
recoiling with a spring from between us.

" Mrs Huntingdon would rather receive it from you,"
replied he, in a very serious tone, but lowering his
voice that his mother might not hear. His sister took
the rose and gave it to me.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 317

" My brother's compliments, Mrs Huntingdon, and
he hopes you and he will come to a better understand-
ing by and by. Will that do, Walter?" added the
saucy girl, turning to him and putting her arm round
his neck, as he stood leaning upon the sill of the
window — " or should I have said that you are sorry
you were so touchy ? or that you hope she will pardon
your offence ? "

" You silly girl ! you don't know what you are
talking about," replied he gravely.

" Indeed I don't ; for I'm quite in the dark ! "

" Now, Esther," interposed Mrs Hargrave, who, if
equally benighted on the subject of our estrangement,
saw at least that her daughter was behaving very
improperly, " I must insist upon your leaving the
room !'

" Pray don't, Mrs Hargrave, for I'm going to leave
it myself," said I, and immediately made my adieux.

About a week after, Mr Hargrave brought his sister
to see me. He conducted himself, at first, with his
usual, cold, distant, half-stately, half-melancholy,
altogether injured air ; but Esther made no remark
upon it this time ; she had evidently been schooled
into better manners. She talked to me, and laughed
and romped with little Arthur, her loved and loving
playmate. He, somewhat to my discomfort, enticed
her from the room to have a run in the hall, and thence
into the garden. I got up to stir the fire. Mr Har-
grave asked if I felt cold, and shut the door — a very
unseasonable piece of oflficiousness, for I had meditated
following the noisy playfellows if they did not speedily
return. He then took the liberty of walking up to
the fire himself, and asking me if I were aware that Mr
Huntingdon was now at the seat of Lord Lowborough,
and likely to continue there some time.

" No ; but it's no matter," I answered carelessly ;
and if my cheek glowed like fire, it was rather at the
ijiiestion than the information it conveyed.

" You don't object to it?" he said.

" Not at all, if Lord Lowborough likes his company."

318 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" You have no love left for him, then ? "

" Not the least."

" I knew that — I knew you were too high-minded
and pure in your own nature to continue to regard one
so utterly false and polluted with any feelings but those
of indignation and scornful abhorrence ! "

"Is he not your friend?" said I, turning my eyes
from the fire to his face with perhaps a slight touch of
those feelings he assigned to another.

" He was," replied he, with the same calm gravity
as before, " but do not wrong me by supposing that I
could continue my friendship and esteem to a man who
could so infamously, so impiously forsake and injure

one so transcendently well, I won't speak of it.

But tell me, do you never think of revenge ? "

" Revenge ! No — what good would that do ? — it
would make him no better, and me no happier."

" I don't know how to talk to you, Mrs Huntingdon,"
said he smiling ; " you are only half a woman — your
nature must be half human, half angelic. Such good-
ness overawes me ; I don't know what to make of it."

" Then, sir, I fear you must be very much worse
than you should be, if I, a mere ordinary mortal, am,
by your own confession, so vastly your superior ; and
since there exists so little sympathy between us, I
think we had better each look out for some more con-
genial companion." And forthwith moving to the
window, 1 began to look out for my little son and his
gay young friend.

" No, I am the ordinary mortal, I maintain," replied
Mr Hargrave. " I will not allow myself to be worse
than my fellows ; but you, madam, I equally maintain
there is nobody like you. But are you happy ? " he
asked in a serious tone.

" As happy as some others, I suppose."

" Are you as happy as you desire to be ? "

"No one is so blest as that comes to on this side
eternity."

"One thing I know," returned he, with a deep sad
sigh ; " you are immeasurably happier than I am,"

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 319

<e I am very sorry for you, then," I could not help
replying.

" Are you, indeed ? No, for if you were you would
be glad to relieve me."

"And so I should if I could do so without injuring
myself or any other."

" And can you suppose that I should wish you to
injure yourself? No, on the contrary, it is your own
happiness I long for more than mine. You are miser-
able now, Mrs Huntingdon," continued he, looking
me boldly in the face. " You do not complain, but I
see — and feel — and know that you are miserable — and
must remain so as long as you keep those walls of
impenetrable ice about your still warm and palpitating
heart ; and I am miserable, too. Deign to smile on
me and I am happy : trust me, and you shall be happy
also, for if you are a woman I can make you so — and I
will do it in spite of yourself ! " he muttered between
his teeth ; "and as for others, the question is between
ourselves alone : you cannot injure your husband, you
know, and no one else has any concern in the matter."

"I have a son, Mr Hargrave, and you have a
mother," said I, retiring from the window, whither he
had followed me.

"They need not know/' he began ; but before any-
thing more could be said on either side Esther and
Arthur re-entered the room. The former glanced at
Walter's flushed, excited countenance, and then at
mine — a little flushed and excited too, I dare say,
though from far different causes. She must have
thought we had been quarrelling desperately, and was
evidently perplexed and disturbed at the circumstance ;
but she was too polite or too much afraid of her
brother's anger to refer to it. She seated herself on
the sofa, and putting back her bright, golden ringlets,
that were scattered in wild profusion over her face,
she immediately began to talk about the garden and
her little playfellow, and continued to chatter away
in her usual strain till her brother summoned her to
depart.

320 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" If I have spoken too warmly, forgive me," he
murmured oil taking his leave, '' or I shall never for-
give myself."

Esther smiled and glanced at me : I merely bowed,
and her countenance fell. She thought it a poor
return for Walter's generous concession, and was dis-
appointed in her friend. Poor child, she little knows
the world she lives in !

Mr Hargrave had not an opportunity of meeting me
again in private for several weeks after this ; but when
he did meet me there was less of pride and more of
touching melancholy in his manner than before. Oh,
how he annoyed me ! I was obliged at last almost
entirely to remit my visits to the Grove at the expense
of deeply offending Mrs Hargrave and seriously afflict-
ing poor Esther, who really values my society for want
of better, and who ought not to suffer for the fault of
her brother. But that indefatigable foe was not yet
vanquished : he seemed to be always on the watch.
I frequently saw him riding lingeringly past the
premises, looking searchingly round him as he went —
or, if I did not, Rachel did. That sharp-sighted
woman soon guessed how matters stood between us,
and descrying the enemy's movements from her eleva-
tion at the nursery-window, she would give me a quiet
intimation if she saw me preparing for a walk when
she had reason to believe he was about, or to think it
likely that he would meet or overtake me in the way I
meant to traverse. I would then defer my ramble, or
confine myself for that day to the park and gardens,
or, if the proposed excursion was a matter of import-
ance, such as a visit to the sick or afflicted, I would
take Rachel with me, and then I was never molested.

But one mild, sunshiny day, early in November, I
had ventured forth alone to visit the village school and
a few of the poor tenants, and on my return I was
alarmed at the clatter of a horse's feet behind me
approaching at a rapid, steady trot. There was no
stile or gap at hand by which I could escape into the
fields, so I walked quietly on, saying to myself, —

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 321

" It may not be he after all ; and if it is, and if he
do annoy me, it shall be for the last time, I am deter-
mined, if there be power in words and looks against
cool impudence and mawkish sentimentality so inex-
haustible as his."

The horse soon overtook me, and was reined up
close beside me. It was Mr Hargrave. He greeted
me with a smile intended to be soft and .nelancholy,
but his triumphant satisfaction at having caught me at
last so shone through that it was quite a failure. After
briefly answering his salutation and inquiring after the
ladies at the Grove, I turned away and walked on ;
but he followed and kept his horse at my side :
it was evident he intended to be my companion all
the way.

" Well ! I don't much care. If you want another
rebuff take it — and welcome," was my inward remark.
"Wow, sir, what next ? "

This question, though unspoken, was not long
unanswered : after a few passing observations upon
indifferent subjects, he began in solemn tones the
following appeal to my humanity : —

" It will be four years next April since I first saw
you, Mrs Huntingdon — you may have forgotten the
circumstance, but I never can. I admired you then
most deeply, but I dared not love you : in the follow-
ing autumn I saw so much of your perfections that I
could not fail to love you, though I dared not show it.
For upwards of three years I have endured a perfect
martyrdom. From the anguish of suppressed emotions,
intense and fruitless longings, silent sorrow, crushed
hopes, and trampled affections, I have suffered more
than I can tell, or you imagine — and you were the
cause of it, and not altogether the innocent cause.
My youth is wasting away ; my prospects are darkened ;
my life is a desolate blank ; I have no rest day or
night : I am become a burden to myself and others,
and you might save me by a word — a glance, and will
not do it — is this right?"

" In the first place I don't believe you," answered 1 :

322 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" in the second, if you will be such a fool I can't
hinder it."

" If you affect," replied he earnestly, " to regard as
folly, the best, the strongest, the most godlike impulses
of our nature, — I don't believe you ; 1 know you are
not the heartless, icy being you pretend to be — you
had a heart once and gave it to your husband. When
you found him utterly unworthy of the treasure, you
reclaimed it ; and you will not pretend that you loved
that sensual, earthly-minded profligate so deeply, so
devotedly, that you can never love another? 1 know
that there are feelings in your nature that have never
yet been called forth — I know, too, that in your
present neglected lonely state you are and must be
miserable. You have it in your power to raise two
human beings from a state of actual suffering to such
unspeakable beatitude as only generous, noble, self-
forgetting love can give (for you can let me love you if
you will) ; you may tell me that you scorn and detest
me, but — since you have set me the example of plain
speaking — I will answer that I do not believe you !
but you will not do it ! you choose rather to leave us
miserable ; and you coolly tell me it is the will of God
that we should remain so. You may call this religion,
but I call it wild fanaticism ! "

" There is another life both for you and for me,"
said I. " If it be the will of God that we should sow
in tears, now, it is only that we may reap in joy here-
after. It is his will that we should not injure others
by the gratification of our own earthly passions ; and
you have a mother, and sisters, and friends, who would
be seriously injured by your disgrace ; and I, too, have
friends, whose peace of mind shall never be sacrificed
to my enjoyment — or yours either, with my consent —
and if I were alone in the world, I have still my God
and my religion, and I would sooner die than disgrace
my calling and break my faith with Heaven to obtain
a few brief years of false and fleeting happiness —
happiness sure to end in misery, even here — for myself
or any other ! "

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 323

" There need be no disgrace — no misery or sacrifice
in any quarter," persisted he. " I do not ask you to
leave your home or defy the world's opinion." — But I
need not repeat all his arguments. 1 refuted them to
the best of my power ; but that power was provokingly
small, at the moment, for I was too much flurried with
indignation — and even shame — that he should thus
dare to address me, to retain sufficient command of
thought and language to enable me adequately to
contend against his powerful sophistries. Finding,
however, that he could not be silenced by reason, and
even covertly exulted in his seeming advantage, and
ventured to deride those assertions I had not the
toolness to prove, I changed my course and tried
another plan.

" Do you really love me ?" said I seriously, pausing
and looking him calmly in the face.

" Do I love you ! " cried he.

"Truly?" I demanded.

His countenance brightened ; he thought his triumph
was at hand. He commenced a passionate protestation
of the truth and fervour of his attachment, which I cut
short by another question : —

"But is it not a selfish love? — have you enough
disinterested affection to enable you to sacrifice your
own pleasure to mine ? "

" I would give my life to serve you."

" I don't want your life — but have you enough real
sympathy for my afflictions to induce you to make an
effort to relieve them, at the risk of a little discomfort
to yourself? "

" Try me, and see ! "

" If you have — never mention this subject again.
You cannot recur to it in any way, without doubling
the weight of those sufferings you so feelingly deplore.
I have nothing left me but the solace of a good con-
science and a hopeful trust in Heaven, and you labour
continually to rob me of these. If you persist, 1 must
regard you as my deadliest foe."

" But hear me a moment "

324 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" No, sir ! you said you would give your life to serve
me : 1 only ask your silence on one particular point.
I have spoken plainly ; and what I say I mean. If
you torment me in this way any more, I must conclude
that your protestations are entirely false, and that you
hate me in your heart as fervently as you profess to
love me ! "

He bit his lip, and bent his eyes upon the ground
in silence for a while.

" Then I must leave you," said he at length, looking
steadily upon me, as if with the last hope of detecting
some token of irrepressible anguish or dismay awakened
by those solemn words. " I must leave you. I cannot
live here, and be for ever silent on the all-absorbing
subject of my thoughts and wishes."

" Formerly, I believe, you spent but little of your
time at home," I answered : " it will do you no harm
to absent yourself again, for a while — if that be really
necessary."

" If that be really possible," he muttered — " and can
you bid me go so coolly? Do you really wish it."

" Most certainly I do. If you cannot see me without
tormenting me as you have lately done, 1 would gladly
say farewell and never see you more."

He made no answer, but, bending from his horse,
held out his hand towards me. I looked up at his
face, and saw therein such a look of genuine agony of
soul that, whether bitter disappointment, or wounded
pride, or lingering love, or burning wrath were upper-
most, I could not hesitate to put my hand in his as
frankly as if I bade a friend farewell. He grasped it
very hard, and immediately put spurs to his horse and
galloped away. Very soon after, I learned that he was
gone to Paris, where he still is ; and the longer he stays
there the better for me.

I thank God for this deliverance 1

THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL 325

CHAFFER XXXVIII

DECEMBER 20th, 1826. — The fifth anniversary of my
wedding day, and, I trust, the last I shall spend under
this roof. My resolution is formed, my plan concocted,
and already partly put in execution. My conscience
does not blame me, but while the purpose ripens, let
me beguile a few of these long winter evenings in
stating the case for my own satisfaction — a dreary
amusement enough, but having the air of a useful
occupation, and being pursued as a task, it will suit me
better than a lighter one.

In September, quiet Grassdale was again alive with
a party of ladies and gentlemen (so called) consisting
of the same individuals as those invited the year before
last, with the addition of two or three others, among
whom were Mrs Hargrave and her younger daughter.
The gentlemen and Lady Lowborough were invited for
the pleasure and convenience of the host, the other
ladies, I suppose for the sake of appearances, and to
keep me in check, and make me discreet and civil in
my demeanour. But the ladies stayed only three
weeks, the gentlemen, with two exceptions, above two
months, for their hospitable entertainer was loath to
part with them and be left alone with his bright
intellect, his stainless conscience, and his loved and
loving wife.

On the day of Lady Lowborough's arrival, I followed
her into her chamber, and plainly told her that, if I found
reason to believe that she still continued her criminal
connection with Mr Huntingdon, I should think it my
absolute duty to inform her husband of the circum-
stance— or awaken his suspicions at least — however
painful it might be, or however dreadful the con-
sequences. She was startled at first, by the declara-
tion, so unexpected, and so determinately yet calmly
delivered ; but rallying in a moment, she coolly re-
plied that, if I saw anything at all reprehensible or
suspicious in her conduct, she would freely give me

326 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

leave to tell his lordship all about it. Willing to be
satisfied with this, 1 left her ; and certainly I saw
nothing thenceforth particularly reprehensible or sus-
picious in her demeanour towards her host ; but then
I had the other guests to attend to, and I did not
watch them narrowly — for, to confess the truth, I
feared to see anything between them. I no longer
regarded it as any concern of mine, and if it was my
duty to enlighten Lord Lowborough, it was a painful
duty, and I dreaded to be called to perform it.

But my fears were brought to an end, in a manner
I had not anticipated. One evening, about a fort-
night after the visitors' arrival, I had retired into the
library to snatch a few minutes' respite from forced
cheerfulness and wearisome discourse — for after so
long a period of seclusion, dreary indeed, as I had
often found it, I could not always bear to be doing
violence to my feelings, and goading my powers to
talk, and smile and listen, and play the attentive
hostess, or even the cheerful friend : — I had just
ensconsed myself within the bow of the window, and
was looking out upon the west where the darkening
hills rose sharply defined against the clear amber
light of evening, that gradually blended and faded
away into the pure, pale blue of the upper sky, where
one bright star was shining through, as if to promise —
" When that dying light is gone, the world will not
be left in darkness, and they who trust in God — whose
minds are unbeclouded by the mists of unbelief and
sin — are never wholly comfortless," — when I heard a
hurried step approaching, and Lord Lowborough
entered — this room was still his favourite resort. He
flung the door to with unusual violence, and cast his
hat aside regardless where it fell. What could be the
matter with him ? His face was ghastly pale ; his eyes
were fixed upon the ground ; his teeth clenched ; his
forehead glistened with the dews of agony. It was
plain he knew his wrongs at last !

Unconscious of my presence, he began to pace the
room in a state of fearful agitation, violently wringing

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 327

his hands and uttering low groans or incoherent
ejaculations. I made a movement to let him know
that he was not alone ; but he was too preoccupied to
notice it. Perhaps, while his back was towards me, 1
might cross the room and slip away unobserved. 1
rose to make the attempt, but then he perceived me.
He started and stood still a moment ; then wiped his
streaming forehead, and, advancing towards me, with
a kind of unnatural composure, said in a deep, almost
sepulchral tone, —

" Mrs Huntingdon, I must leave you to-morrow."

" To-morrow ! " I repeated. " I do not ask the
cause."

" You know it then — and you can be so calm ! " said
he, surveying me with profound astonishment, not un-
mingled with a kind of resentful bitterness, as it
appeared to me.

" I have so long been aware of " I paused in

time, and added, " of my husband's character, that
nothing shocks me."

" But this — how long have you been aware of this?"
demanded he, laying his clenched hand on the table
beside him, and looking me keenly and fixedly in the
face.

I felt like a criminal.

" Not long," I answered.

•' You knew it ! " cried he, with bitter vehemence —
" and you did not tell me ! You helped to deceive
me !"

" My lord, I did not help to deceive you."

" Then why did you not tell me ? "

" Because I knew it would be painful to you — I
hoped she would return to her duty, and then there
would be no need to harrow your feelings with
such "

" O God ! how long has this been going on ? how
long has it been, Mrs Huntingdon? — Tell me — I must
know !" he exclaimed, with intense and fearful eager-
ness.

"Two years, I believe."

328 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" Great Heaven ! and she has duped me all this
time ! " He turned away with a suppressed groan of
agony, and paced the room again, in a paroxysm of
renewed agitation. My heart smote me ; but I would
try to console him, though I knew not how to attempt
it.

" She is a wicked woman," I said. " She has basely
deceived and betrayed you. She is as little worthy of
your regret as she was of your affection. Let her
injure you no further ; abstract yourself from her, and
stand alone."

" And you, madam," said he sternly, arresting him-
self, and turning round upon me — " you have injured
me too, by this ungenerous concealment ! "

There was a sudden revulsion in my feelings. Some-
thing rose within me, and urged me to resent this
harsh return for my heartfelt sympathy, and defend
myself with answering severity. Happily, I did not
yield to the impulse. I saw his anguish as, suddenly
smiting his forehead, he turned abruptly to the window,
and, looking upward at the placid sky, murmured
passionately, " O God, that I might die ! " — and felt
that to add one drop of bitterness to that already over-
flowing cup, would be ungenerous indeed. And yet, I
fear there was more coldness than gentleness in the
quiet tone of my reply : —

" I might offer many excuses that some would admit
to be valid, but I will not attempt to enumerate
them "

' ' I know them," said he hastily, ' ' you would say
that it was no business of yours — that I ought to have
taken care of myself — that if my own blindness has led
me into this pit of hell, I have no right to blame
another for giving me credit for a larger amount of
sagacity than I possessed "

"I confess 1 was wrong," continued I, without re-
garding the bitter interruption ; " but whether want
of courage or mistaken kindness was the cause of my
error, I think you blame me too severely. I told Lady
Lowborough two weeks ago, the very hour she came,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 329

that I should certainly think it my duty to inform you
if she continued to deceive you : she gave me full
liberty to do so if I should see anything reprehensible
or suspicious in her conduct — I have seen nothing ;
and 1 trusted she had altered her course."

He continued gazing from the window while I spoke,
and did not answer, but, stung by the recollections my
words awakened, stamped his foot upon the floor,
ground his teeth, and corrugated his brow, like one
under the influence of acute physical pain.

" Jt was wrong — it was wrong ! " he muttered at
length. " Nothing can excuse it — nothing can atone
for it, — for nothing can recall those years of cursed
credulity — nothing obliterate them ! — nothing, no-
thing ! " he repeated in a whisper whose despairing
bitterness precluded all resentment.

" When I put the case to myself, I own it was
wrong," I answered ; " but I can only now regret that
I did not see it in this light before, and that, as you
say, nothing can recall the past."

Something in my voice or in the spirit of this answer
seemed to alter his mood. Turning towards me, and
attentively surveying my face by the dim light, he
said, in a milder tone than he had yet employed, —

" You, too, have suffered, I suppose."

"I suffered much, at first."

"When was that?"

" Two years ago ; and two years hence you will be
as calm as I am now, — and far, far happier, I trust, for ,
you are a man, and free to act as you please."

Something like a smile, but a very bitter one, crossed
his face for a moment.

"You have not been happy lately?" he said, with a
kind of effort to regain composure, and a determination
to waive the further discussion of his own calamity.

"Happy!" I repeated, almost provoked at such a
question. " Could I be so, with such a husband ! "

" I have noticed a change in your appearance since
the first years of your marriage," pursued he : " I
observed it to — to that infernal demon," he muttered

330 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

between his teeth — " and he said it was your own sour
temper that was eating away your bloom : it was
making you old and ugly before your time, and had
already made his fire-side as comfortless as a convent
cell. You smile, Mrs Huntingdon — nothing moves
you. I wish my nature were as calm as yours."

"My nature was not originally calm," said I. <f I
have learned to appear so by dint of hard lessons and
many repeated efforts/'

At this juncture Mr Hattersley burst into the room.

" Hallow, Lowborough ! " he began — " Oh ! I beg
your pardon," he exclaimed on seeing me ; " I didn't
know it was a tete-a-tete. Cheer up, man," he con-
tinued, giving Lord Lowborough a thump on the back,
which caused the latter to recoil from him with looks
of ineffable disgust and irritation. " Come, 1 want to
speak with you a bit."

" Speak, then."

" But I'm not sure it would be quite agreeable to the
lady, what I have to say."

"Then it would not be agreeable to me," said his
lordship, turning to leave the room.

" Yes, it would," cried the other, following him into
the hall. "If you've the heart of a man it would be
the very ticket for you. It's just this, my lad," he
continued, rather lowering his voice, but not enough
to prevent me from hearing every word he said, though
the half-closed door stood between us. " I think
you're an ill-used man — nay, now, don't flare up — I
don't want to offend you : it's only my rough way of
talking. I must speak right out, you know, or else
not at all ; — and I'm come — stop now ! — let me explain
— I'm come to offer you my services, for though
Huntingdon is my friend, he's a devilish scamp, as we
all know, and I'll be your friend for the nonce. 1
know what it is you want, to make matters straight :
it's just to exchange a shot with him, and then you'll
feel yourself all right again ; and if an accident
happens — why, that'll be all right too, I dare say, to a
desperate fellow like you. Come now, give me your

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 331

hand, and don't look so black upon it. Name time
and place, and I'll manage the rest."

"That," answered the more low, deliberate voice
of Lord Lowborough, " is just the remedy my own
heart — or the devil within it, suggested — to meet him
and not to part without blood. Whether I or he should
fall — or both, it would be an inexpressible relief to
me, if "

" Just so I Well then "

" No ! " exclaimed his lordship, with deep, deter-
mined emphasis. " Though I hate him from my heart,
and should rejoice at any calamity that could befall
him— I'll leave him to God ; and though I abhor my
own life, I'll leave that too, to Him that gave it."

" But you see in this case," pleaded Hattersley

" I'll not hear you ! " exclaimed his companion,
hastily turning away. " Not another word 1 IVe
enough to do against the fiend within me."

" Then you're a white-livered fool, and I wash my
hands of you," grumbled the tempter, as he swung him-
self round and departed.

" Right, right, Lord Lowborough," cried I, darting
out and clasping his burning hand, as he was moving
away to the stairs. " I begin to think the world is
not worthy of you ! "

Not understanding this sudden ebullition, he turned
upon me with a stare of gloomy, bewildered amazement,
that made me ashamed of the impulse to which I
had yielded ; but soon a more humanised expression
dawned upon his countenance, and, before I could
withdraw my hand, he pressed it kindly, while a gleam
of genuine feeling flashed from his eyes as he mur-
mured,—

" God help us both ! "

" Amen ! ' responded I ; and we parted.

I returned to the drawing-room, where, doubtless,
my presence would be expected by most, desired by
one or two. In the ante-room was Mr Hattersley,
railing against Lord Lowborough 's poltroonery before
a select audience, viz. Mr Huntingdon, who was loung-

332 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

ing against the table, exulting in his own treacherous
villany, and laughing his victim to scorn, and Mr
Grimsby, standing by, quietly rubbing his hands, and
chuckling with fiendish satisfaction.

In the drawing-room I found Lady Lowborough,
evidently in no very enviable state of mind, and
struggling hard to conceal her discomposure by an
overstrained affectation of unusual cheerfulness and
vivacity, very uncalled for under the circumstances,
for she had herself given the company to understand
that her husband had received unpleasant intelligence
from home, which necessitated his immediate depart-
ure, and that he had suffered it so to bother his mind,
that it had brought on a bilious headache, owing to
which, and the preparations he judged necessary to
hasten his departure, she believed they would not have
the pleasure of seeing him to-night. However, she
asserted, it was only a business concern, and so she did
not intend it should trouble her. She was just saying
this as I entered, and she darted upon me such a
glance of hardihood and defiance as at once astonished
and revolted me.

"But I am troubled," continued she, "and vexed
too, for I think it my duty to accompany his lordship,
and of course I am very sorry to part with all my kind
friends so unexpectedly and so soon."

" And yet, Annabella/' said Esther, who was sitting
beside her, "I never saw you in better spirits in my
life."

" Precisely so, my love ; because I wish to make the
best of your society, since it appears this is to be the last
night I am to enjoy it till Heaven knows when ; and I
wish to leave a good impression on you all," — she
glanced round, and seeing her aunt's eye fixed upon
her, rather too scrutinizingly, as she probably thought,
she started up and continued, " to which end Ml give
you a song — shall I, aunt? shall I, Mrs Huntingdon?
shall I, ladies and gentlemen — all? Very well, Ml
do my best to amuse you."

She and Lord Lowborough occupied the apartments

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 333

next to mine. I know not how she passed the night,
but I lay awake the greater part of it listening to his
heavy step pacing monotonously up and down his
dressing-room, which was nearest my chamber. Once
1 heard him pause and throw something out of the
window with a passionate ejaculation ; and in the
morning, after they were gone, a keen-bladed, clasp-
knife was found on the grass-plot below ; a razor, like-
wise, was snapped in two and thrust deep into the
cinders of the grate, but partially corroded by the
decaying embers. So strong had been the temptation
to end his miserable life, so determined his resolution
to resist it.

My heart bled for him as I lay listening to that
ceaseless tread. Hitherto I had thought too much of
myself, too little of him : now 1 forgot my own afflic-
tions, and thought only of his — of the ardent affection
so miserably wasted, the fond faith so cruelly betrayed,

the no, I will not attempt to enumerate his wrongs

— but I hated his wife and my husband more intensely
than ever, and not for my sake, but for his.

They departed early in the morning, before any one
else was down, except myself, and just as I was leaving
my room, Lord Lowborough was descending to take
his place in the carriage where his lady was already
ensconced ; and Arthur (or Mr Huntingdon as I prefer
calling him, for the other is my child's name) had the
gratuitous insolence to come out in his dressing-gown
to bid his " friend " good-bye.

" What, going already, Lowborough ! " said he.
" Well, good morning." He smilingly offered his
hand.

I think the other would have knocked him down,
had he not instinctively started back before that bony
fist quivering with rage and clenched till the knuckles
gleamed white and glistening through the skin. Look-
ing upon him with a countenance livid with furious
hate, Lord Lowborough muttered between his closed
teeth a deadly execration he would not have uttered had
he been calm enough to choose his words, and departed.

334 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

"1 call that an unchristian spirit now," said the
villain. " But I'd never give up an old friend for the
sake of a wife. You may have mine if you like, and
I call that handsome — 1 can do no more than offer
restitution, can I ? "

But Lowborough had gained the bottom of the stairs,
and was now crossing the hall ; and Mr Huntingdon,
leaning over the banisters, called out, "Give my love
to Annabella ! and 1 wish you both a happy journey,"
and withdrew laughing to his chamber.

He subsequently expressed himself rather glad she
was gone : " she was so deuced imperious and exact-
ing," said he : " now I shall be my own man again,
and feel rather more at my ease."

CHAPTER XXXIX

MY greatest source of uneasiness, in this time of trial,
was my son, whom his father and his father's friends
delighted to encourage in all the embryo vices a little
child can show, and to instruct in all the evil habits he
could acquire — in a word, to " make a man of him "
was one of their staple amusements ; and I need say
no more to justify my alarm on his account, and my
determination to deliver him at any hazard from the
hands of such instructors. I first attempted to keep
him always with me or in the nursery, and gave Rachel
particular injunctions never to let him come down to
dessert as long as these " gentlemen " stayed ; but it
was no use ; these orders were immediately counter-
manded and overruled by his father : he was not going
to have the little fellow moped to death between an old
nurse and a cursed fool of a mother. So the little
fellow came down every evening in spite of his cross
mamma, and learned to tipple wine like papa, to swear
like Mr Hattersley, and to have his own way like a
man, and sent mamma to the devil when she tried to
prevent him. To see such things done with the roguish

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 336

naivete of that pretty little child, and hear such things
spoken by that small infantile voice, was as peculiarly
piquant and irresistibly droll to them as it was inex-
pressibly distressing and painful to me ; and when he
had set the table in a roar he would look round de-
lightedly upon them all, and add his shrill laugh to
theirs. But if that beaming blue eye rested on me, its
light would vanish for a moment, and he would say, in
some concern — " Mamma, why don't you laugh ? Make
her laugh, papa — she never will."

Hence was I obliged to stay among these human
brutes, watching an opportunity to get my child away
from them instead of leaving them immediately after
the removal of the cloth, as 1 should always otherwise
have done. He was never willing to go, and I fre-
quently had to carry him away by force, for which he
thought me very cruel and unjust ; and sometimes his
father would insist upon my letting him remain ; and
then I would leave him to his kind friends, and retire
to indulge my bitterness and despair alone, or to rack
my brains for a remedy to this great evil.

But here again 1 must do Mr Hargrave the justice to
acknowledge that I never saw him laugh at the child's
misdemeanours, nor heard him utter a word of encour-
agement to his aspirations after manly accomplishments.
But when anything very extraordinary was said or done
by the infant profligate, I noticed, at times, a peculiar
expression in his face that I could neither interpret nor
define — a slight twitching about the muscles of the
mouth — a sudden flash in the eye, as he darted a sudden
i_rl;uire at the child and then at me : and then I could
fancy there arose a gleam of hard, keen, sombre, satis-
faction in his countenance at the look of impotent wrath
and anguish he was too certain to behold in mine. But
on one occasion, when Arthur had been behaving par-
ticularly ill, and Mr Huntingdon and his guests had
been particularly provoking and insulting to me in
their encouragement of him, and I particularly anxious
to get him out of the room, and on the very point of
demeaning myself by a burst of uncontrollable passion —

336 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

Mr Hargrave suddenly rose from his seat with an aspect
of stern determination, lifted the child from his father's
knee where he was sitting half tipsy, cocking his head
and laughing at me, and execrating me with words he
little knew the meaning of — handed him out of the
room, and, setting him down in the hall, held the door
open for me, gravely bowed as I withdrew, and closed
it after me. I heard high words exchanged between
him and his already half-inebriated host as 1 departed,
leading away my bewildered and disconcerted boy.

But this should not continue ; my child must not
be abandoned to this corruption : better far that he
should live in poverty and obscurity with a fugitive
mother, than in luxury and affluence with such a father.
These guests might not be with us long, but they
would return again : and he, the most injurious of the
whole, his child's worst enemy, would still remain. I
could endure it for myself, but for my son it must be
borne no longer : the world's opinion and the feelings
of my friends must be alike unheeded here, at least,
alike unable to deter me from my duty. But where
should I find an asylum, and how obtain subsistence
for us both ? Oh, I would take my precious charge at

early dawn, take the coach to M , flee to the port

of , cross the Atlantic, and seek a quiet, humble

home in New England, where I would support myself
and him by the labour of my hands. The palette and
the easel, my darling playmates once, must be my
sober toil-fellows now. But was I sufficiently skilful as
an artist to obtain my livelihood in a strange land,
without friends and without recommendation ? No ;
I must wait a little ; I must labour hard to improve
my talent, and to produce something worth while
as a specimen of my powers, something to speak
favourably for me, whether as an actual painter or a
teacher. Brilliant success, of course, I did not look
for, but some degree of security from positive failure
was indispensable — I must not take my son to starve.
And then I must have money for the journey, the
passage, and some little to support us in our retreat

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 337

in case I should be unsuccessful at first : and not too
little either, for who could tell how long I might have
to struggle with the indifference or neglect of others,
or my own inexperience or inability to suit their
tastes?

What should I do then ? Apply to my brother and
explain my circumstances and my resolves to him ?
No, no : even if I told him all my grievances, which I
should be very reluctant to do, he would be certain to
disapprove of the step : it would seem like madness to
him, as it would to my uncle and aunt, or to Milicent.
No ; I must have patience and gather a hoard of my
own. Rachel should be my only confidante — 1 thought
I could persuade her into the scheme ; and she should
help me, first, to find out a picture-dealer in some
distant town ; then, through her means, I would
privately sell what pictures 1 had on hand that would
do for such a purpose, and some of those I should
thereafter paint. Besides this, I would contrive to
dispose of my jewels — not the family jewels, but the
few I brought with me from home, and those my uncle
gave me on my marriage. A few months' arduous
toil might well be borne by me with such an end in
view ; and in the interim my son could not be much
more injured than he was already.

Having formed this resolution, I immediately set to
work to accomplish it. I might possibly have been
induced to wax cool upon it afterwards, or perhaps to
keep weighing the pros and cons in my mind till the
latter overbalanced the former, and I was driven to
relinquish the project altogether, or delay the ex-
ecution of it to an indefinite period, — had not some-
thing occurred to confirm me in that determination to
which I still adhere, which I still think I did well to
form, and shall do better to execute.

Since Lord Lowborough's departure, I had regarded
the library as entirely my own, a secure retreat at all
hours of the day. None of our gentlemen had the
smallest pretensions to a literary taste, except Mr
Hargrave ; and he, at present, was quite contented

338 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

with the newspapers and periodicals of the day. And
if, by any chance, he should look in here, I felt assured
he would soon depart on seeing me, for, instead of
becoming less cool and distant towards me, he had
become decidedly more so since the departure of his
mother and sisters, which was just what I wished. Here,
then, I set up my easel, and here 1 worked at my
canvas from daylight till dusk, with very little in-
termission saving when pure necessity, or my duties
to little Arthur, called me away — for I still thought
proper to devote some portion of every day exclusively
to his instruction and amusement. But, contrary to
my expectation, on the third morning, while I was
thus employed, Mr Hargrave did look in, and did not
immediately withdraw on seeing me. He apologised
for his intrusion, and said he was only come for a
book ; but when he had got it, he condescended to cast
a glance over my picture. Being a man of taste, he
had something to say on this subject as well as another,
and having modestly commented on it, without much
encouragement from me, he proceeded to expatiate on
the art in general. Receiving no encouragement in
that either, he dropped it, but did not depart.

" You don't give us much of your company, Mrs
Huntingdon," observed he, after a brief pause, during
which J went on coolly mixing and tempering my
colours ; " and I cannot wonder at it, for you must be
heartily sick of us all. I myself am so thoroughly
ashamed of my companions, and so weary of their
irrational conversation and pursuits — now that there is
no one to humanise them and keep them in check, since
you have justly abandoned us to our own devices — that
I think I shall presently withdraw from amongst them
— probably within this week — and I cannot suppose
you will regret my departure."

He paused. I did not answer.

" Probably," he added, with a smile, " your only
regret on the subject will be, that I do not take all
my companions along with me. I flatter myself,
at times, that though among them, I am not of

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 339

them ; but it is natural that you should be glad to get
rid of me. I may regret this, but I cannot blame you
for it."

" I shall not rejoice at your departure, for you can
conduct yourself like a gentleman, ' said I, thinking it
but right to make some acknowledgment for his good
behaviour, " but I must confess I shall rejoice to bid
adieu to the rest, inhospitable as it may appear."

" No one can blame you for such an avowal," re-
plied he gravely, " not even the gentlemen themselves, I
imagine. I'll just tell you," he continued, as if actuated
by a sudden resolution, " what was said last night in
the dining-room, after you left us — perhaps you will
not mind it, as you're so very philosophical on certain
points," he added with a slight sneer. " They were
talking about Lord Lowborough and his delectable
lady, the cause of whose sudden departure is no
secret amongst them ; and her character is so well
known to them all, that, nearly related to me as she
is, I could not attempt to defend it. — Curse me," he
muttered, par parenthese, " if I don't have vengeance
for this ! If the villain must disgrace the family, must
he blazon it abroad to every low-bred knave of his
acquaintance? — I beg your pardon, Mrs Huntingdon.
Well, they were talking of these things, and some of
them remarked that, as she was separated from her
husband, he might see her again when he pleased."

" ' Thank you/ said he ; ' I've had enough of her
for the present : I'll not trouble to see her, unless she
comes to me.'

" ' Then what do you mean to do, Huntingdon,
when we're gone ? ' said Ralph Hattersley. ' Do you
mean to turn from the error of your ways, and be a
good husband, a good father, and so forth — as I do,
when I get shut of you and all these rollicking devils
you call your friends ? I think it's time ; and your
wife is fifty times too good for you, you know '

" And he added some praise of you, which you
would not thank me for repeating — nor him for
uttering; proclaiming it aloud, as he did, without

340 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

delicacy or discrimination, in an audience where it
seemed profanation to utter your name — himself
utterly incapable of understanding or appreciating
your real excellences. Huntingdon, meanwhile, sat
quietly drinking his wine, or looking smilingly into
his glass and offering no interruption or reply, till
Hattersley shouted out, —

" ' Do you hear me, man ? '

" ' Yes, go on,' said he.

" ' Nay, Fve done/ replied the other : ' I only want
to know if you intend to take my advice.'

"'What ad vice?'

' ' ' To turn over a new leaf, you double-dyed
scoundrel/ shouted Ralph, fand beg your wife's
pardon, and be a good boy for the future/

' ' ' My wife ! what wife ? I have no wife/ replied
Huntingdon, looking innocently up from his glass — ' or
if I have, look you, gentlemen, I value her so highly
that any one among you, that can fancy her, may have
her and welcome — you may, by Jove, and my blessing
into the bargain ! '

" I — hem — some one asked if he really meant what
he said, upon which, he solemnly swore he did, and
no mistake. — What do you think of that, Mrs Hunt-
ingdon ? " asked Mr Hargrave, after a short pause,
during which I had felt he was keenly examining my
half-averted face.

' ' I say," replied I, calmly, " that what he prizes so
lightly, will not be long in his possession."

" You cannot mean that you will break your heart
and die for the detestable conduct of an infamous
villain like that ! "

" By no means : my heart is too thoroughly dried
to be broken in a hurry, and I mean to live as long as
I can."

" Will you leave him then ? "

" Yes."

" When — and how ? " asked he, eagerly.

"When I am ready, and how I can manage it most
effectually. "

THE TENANT OF VV1LDFELL HALL 341

' But your child?"

' My child goes with me."

' He will not allow it."

* I shall not ask him."

'Ah, then, it is a secret flight you meditate ! — but
with whom, Mrs Huntingdon ? "

' With my son — and, possibly, his nurse."

' Alone — and unprotected ! But where can you
go ? what can you do ? He will follow you and
bring you back.''

" I have laid my plans too well for that. Let me once
get clear of Grassdale, and I shall consider myself safe."

Mr Hargrave advanced one step towards me, looked
me in the face, and drew in his breath to speak ; but
that look, that heightened colour, that sudden sparkle
of the eye, made my blood rise in wrath : I abruptly
turned away, and, snatching up my brush, began to
dash away at my canvas with rather too much energy
for the good of the picture.

" Mrs Huntingdon," said he with bitter solemnity,
"you are cruel — cruel to me — cruel to yourself."

" Mr Hargrave, remember your promise."

" I must speak — my heart will burst if I don't ! I
have been silent long enough — and you must hear
me ! " cried he boldly intercepting my retreat to the
door. " You tell me you owe no allegiance to your
husband ; he openly declares himself weary of you,
and calmly gives you up to anybody that will take you ;
you are about to leave him ; no one will believe that
you go alone— all the world will say, ' She has left him
at last, and who can wonder at it? Few can blame
her, fewer still can pity him ; but who is the companion
of her flight?' Thus you will have no credit for your
virtue (if you call it such) : even your best friends will x
not believe in it; because, it is monstrous, and not to
be credited — but by those who suffer, from the effects ^ — '
of it, such cruel torments that they know it to be
indeed reality. But what can you do in the cold,
rough world alone ? you, a young and inexperienced
woman, delicately nurtured, and utterly "

342 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" In a word, you would advise me to stay where I
am," interrupted I. " Well, I'll see about it."

" By all means, leave him ! " cried he earnestly,
" but NOT alone ! Helen ! let me protect you ! "

" Never ! — while heaven spares my reason," replied
I, snatching away the hand he had presumed to seize
and press between his own. But he was in for it
now ; he had fairly broken the barrier : he was
completely roused, and determined to hazard all for
victory.

" I must not be denied ! " exclaimed he vehemently ;
and seizing both my hands, he held them very tight,
but dropped upon his knee, and looked up in my face
with a half-imploring, half-imperious gaze. " You
have no reason now : you are flying in the face of
heaven's decrees. God has designed me to be your
comfort and protector — I feel it — I know it as certainly
as if a voice from heaven declared ' Ye twain shall be
one flesh ' — and you spurn me from you "

" Let me go, Mr Hargrave ! *' said I, sternly. But
he only tightened his grasp.

" Let me go ! " I repeated, quivering with
indignation.

His face was almost opposite the window as he knelt.
With a slight start, I saw him glance towards it ; and
then a gleam of malicious triumph lit up his counten-
ance. Looking over my shoulder, I beheld a shadow
just retiring round the corner.

" That is Grimsby," said he deliberately. " He will
report what he has seen to Huntingdon and all the
rest, with such embellishments as he thinks proper.
He has no love for you, Mrs Huntingdon — no reverence
for your sex — no belief in virtue — no admiration for its
image. He will give such a version of this story as
will leave no doubt at all, about your character, in the
minds of those who hear it. Your fair fame is gone ;
and nothing that I or you can say can ever retrieve it.
But give me the power to protect you, and show me the
villain that dares to insult ! "

" No one has ever dared to insult me as you are

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 343

doing now ! " said I, at length releasing- my hands, and
recoiling from him.

" I do not insult yome. Mid he : "I worship you.
You are my angel — mf u furity ! I lay my powers at
your feet — and you must and shall accept them ! " he
exclaimed impetuously starting to his feet — " I will be
your consoler and defender ! and if your conscience
upbraid you for it, say I overcame you, and you could
not choose but yield ! "

1 never saw a man so terribly excited. He pre-
cipitated himself towards me. I snatched up my
palette-knife and held it against him. This startled
him : he stood and gazed at me in astonishment ; I
dare say I looked as fierce and resolute as he. I
moved to the bell, and put my hand upon the cord.
This tamed him still more. With a half-authoritative
half-deprecating wave of the hand, he sought to deter
me from ringing.

" Stand off, then ! " said I — he stepped back — ' ' And
listen to me. — 1 don't like you," I continued, as deli-
berately and emphatically as I could, to give the
greater efficacy to my words ; " and if I were divorced
from my husband — or if he were dead, J would not
marry you. There now ! I hope you're satisfied."

His face grew blanched with anger.

" I am satisfied," he replied, with bitter emphasis,
" that you are the most cold-hearted, unnatural,
ungrateful woman I ever yet beheld ! "

"Ungrateful, sir?"

"Ungrateful."

" No, Mr Hargrave ; I am not. For all the good
you ever did me, or ever wished to do, I most sincerely
thank you : for all the evil you have done me, and all
you would have done, I pray God to pardon you, and
make you of a better mind."

Here the door was thrown open, and Messrs Hunt-
ingdon and Hattersley appeared without The latter
remained in the hall, busy with his ram-rod and his
gun ; the former walked in, and stood with his back to
the fire, surveying Mr Hargrave and me, particularly

344 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

the former, with a smile of insupportable meaning,
accompanied as it was by the impudence of his brazen
brow, and the sly, malici,e V-_rvinkle of his eye.

" Well, sir ? " said Ha , , ,ve, interrogatively, and
with the air of one prepared to stand on the defensive.

f< Well, sir," returned his host.

" We want to know if you're at liberty to join us in
a go at the pheasants, Walter," interposed Hattersley
from without. " Come ! there shall be nothing shot
besides, except a puss or two ; I'll vouch for that.''

Walter did not answer, but walked to the window
to collect his faculties. Arthur uttered a low whistle,
and followed him with his eyes. A slight flush of
anger rose to Margrave's cheek ; but in a moment,
he turned calmly round, and said carelessly —

" I came here to bid farewell to Mrs Huntingdon,
and tell her I must go to-morrow."

' ' Humph ! You're mighty sudden in your resolu-
tion. What takes you off so soon, may I ask ? "

<( Business/' returned he, repelling the other's in-
credulous sneer with a glance of scornful defiance.

" Very good," was the reply ; and Hargrave walked
away. Thereupon, Mr Huntingdon, gathering his
coat laps under his arms, and setting his shoulder
against the mantel-piece, turned to me, and, address-
ing me in a low voice, scarcely above his breath,
poured forth a volley of the vilest and grossest abuse
it was possible for the imagination to conceive or the
tongue to utter. I did not attempt to interrupt him :
but my spirit kindled within me, and when he bad
done, 1 replied, —

" If your accusation were true, Mr Huntingdon,
how dare you blame me ? "

" She's hit it, by Jove ! " cried Hattersley, rearing
his gun against the wall ; and, stepping into the room,
he took his precious friend by the arm, and attempted
to drag him away. "Come, my lad," he muttered ;
" true or false, you've no right to blame her, you
know — nor him either ; after what you said last night.
So come along."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 345

There was something implied here that I could not
endure.

"Dare you suspect me, Mr Hattersley?" said I,
almost beside myself with fury.

" Nay, nay, I suspect nobody. It's all right — it's
all right. So come along, Huntingdon, you black-
guard."

" She can't deny it ! " cried the gentleman thus
addressed, grinning in mingled rage and triumph.
'' She can't deny it if her life depended on it ! " and
muttering some more abusive language, he walked
into the hall, and took up his hat and gun from the
table.

" I scorn to justify myself to you ! " said I. " But
you," turning to Hattersley, " If you presume to have
any doubts on the subject, ask Mr Hargrave."

At this, they simultaneously burst into a rude laugh
that made my whole frame tingle to the fingers' ends.

" Where is he ? I'll ask him myself ! " said I,
advancing towards them.

Suppressing a new burst of merriment, Hattersley
pointed to the outer door. It was half open. His
brother-in-law was standing on the front without.

" Mr Hargrave, will you please to step this way ?"
said I.

He turned and looked at me in grave surprise.

"Step this way, if you please !" I repeated, in so
determined a manner that he could not, or did not
choose to resist its authority. Somewhat reluctantly
he ascended the steps and advanced a pace or two into
the hall.

" And tell those gentlemen," I continued — " these
men, whether or not I yielded to your solicitations."

" I don't understand you, Mrs Huntingdon."

" You do understand me, sir ; and I charge you
upon your honour as a gentleman, (if you have any,)
to answer truly. Did I, or did I not?"

" No," muttered he, turning away.

" Speak up, sir ; they can't hear you. Did I grant
yoar request ? "

346 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

"You did not."

" No, I'll be sworn she didn't," said Hattersley,
" or he'd never look so black."

" I'm willing to grant you the satisfaction of a
gentleman, Huntingdon ," said Mr Hargrave, calmly
addressing his host, but with a bitter sneer upon his
countenance.

" Go to the deuce ! " replied the latter, with an
impatient jerk of the head. Hargrave withdrew with
a look of cold disdain, saying, —

" You know where to find me, should you feel
disposed to send a friend."

Muttered oaths and curses were all the answer this
intimation obtained.

" Now, Huntingdon, you see ! " said Hattersley,
" clear as the day."

" 1 don't care what he sees," said I, " or what he
imagines ; but you, Mr Hattersley, when you hear my
name belied and slandered, will you defend it ? "

" 1 will."

I instantly departed, and shut myself into the
library. What could possess me to make such a
request of such a man ? I cannot tell, but drowning
men catch at straws : they had driven me desperate
between them ; I hardly knew what I said. There was
no other to preserve my name from being blackened
and aspersed among this nest of boon companions, and
through them, perhaps, into the world ; and beside
my abandoned wretch of a husband, the base, malignant
Grimsby, and the false villain Hargrave, this boorish
ruffian, coarse and brutal as he was, shone like a glow-
worm in the dark, among its fellow worms.

What a scene was this! Could I ever have imagined
that I should be doomed to bear such insults under
my own roof — to hear such things spoken in my
presence — nay, spoken to me and of me — and by those
who arrogated to themselves the name of gentlemen ?
And could I have imagined that I should have been
able to endure it as calmly, and to repel their insults
as firmly and as boldly as I had done ? A hardness

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 347

such as tliis, is taught by rough experience and despair
alone.

Such thoughts as these chased one another through
my mind, as I paced to and fro the room, and longed
— oh, how I longed — to take my child and leave them
now, without an hour's delay ! But it could not be ;
there was work before me — hard work, that must be
done.

" Then let me do it," said 1, " and lose not a
moment in vain repining*, and idle channgs against
my fate, and those who influence it."

And conquering my agitation with a powerful effort,
I immediately resumed my task, and laboured hard all
day.

Mr Hargrave did depart on the morrow ; and I have
never seen him since. The others stayed on for two
or three weeks longer ; but I kept aloof from them as
much as possible, and still continued my labour, and
have continued it, with almost unabated ardour, to
the present day. I soon acquainted Rachel with my
design, confiding all my motives and intentions to her
ear, and, much to my agreeable surprise, found little
difficulty in persuading her to enter into my views.
She is a sober, cautious woman, but she so hates her
master, and so loves her mistress and her nursling,
that after several ejaculations, a few faint objections,
and many tears and lamentations that I should be
brought to such a pass, she applauded my resolution
and consented to aid me with all her might — on one
condition, only — that she might share my exile :
otherwise, she was utterly inexorable, regarding it as
perfect madness for me and Arthur to go alone.
U'ith touching generosity, she modestly offered to aid
me with her little board of savings, hoping I would
" excuse her for the liberty, but really, if 1 would do
her the favour to accept it as ;i loan, she would be
very happy." Of course I could not think of such a
thing ; — but now, thank Heaven, I have gathered a
little hoard of my own, and my preparations are so far
advanced, that I am looking forward to a speedy

348 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

emancipation. Only let the stormy severity of this
winter weather be somewhat abated, and then, some
morning, Mr Huntingdon will come down to a solitary
breakfast-table, and perhaps be clamouring through
the house for his invisible wife and child, when they
are some fifty miles on their way to the western world
— or it may be more, for we shall leave him hours
before the dawn, and it is not probable he will discover
the loss of both, until the day is far advanced.

I am fully alive to the evils that may and must
result upon the step I am about to take ; but I never
waver in my resolution, because I never forget my
son. It was only this morning — while I pursued my
usual employment, he was sitting at my feet, quietly
playing with the shreds of canvas I had thrown upon
the carpet — but his mind was otherwise occupied, for,
in a while, he looked up wistfully in my face and
gravely asked, —

' Mamma, why are you wicked ? "

1 Who told you I was wicked, love ? "

« Rachel."

' No, Arthur, Rachel never said so, I am certain."

' Well then, it was papa." replied he thoughtfully.
Then, after a reflective pause, he added, " At least,
I'll tell you how it was I got to know : when I'm with
papa, if I say mamma wants me, or mamma says I'm
not to do something that he tells me to do — he always
says, ' Mamma be damned,' and Rachel says it's only
wicked people that are damned. So mamma, that's
why I think you must be wicked — and I wish you
wouldn't."

"My dear child, I am not. Those are bad words,
and wicked people often say them of others better than
themselves. Those words cannot make people be
damned, nor show that they deserve it. God will
judge us by our own thoughts and deeds, not by what
others say about us. And when you hear such words
spoken, Arthur, remember never to repeat them : it is
wicked to say such things of others, not to have them
said against you."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 349

'Then it's papa that's wicked," said he, ruefully.

' Papa is wrong to say such things, and you will be
very wrong to imitate him now that you know better."

' What is imitate ? "

'To do as he does."

'Does he know better?"

'Perhaps he does ; but that is nothing to you."

' If he doesn't, you ought to tell him, mamma."

'I have told him."

The little moralist paused and pondered. I tried in
vain to divert his mind from the subject.

" I'm sorry papa's wicked," said he mournfully, at
length, " for I don't want him to go to hell." And so
saying he burst into tears.

I consoled him with the hope that perhaps his papa

would alter and become good before he died but is

it not time to deliver him from such a parent ?

CHAPTER XL

JANUARY 10th, 1827. — While writing the above,

Bjsterday evening, I sat in the drawing-room. Mr
untingdon was present, but, as I thought, asleep on
the sofa behind me. He had risen, however, unknown
to me, and, actuated by some base spirit of curiosity,
been looking over my shoulder for I know not how
long ; for when I had laid aside my pen, and was about
to close the book, he suddenly placed his hand upon it,
and saying — " With your leave, my dear, I'll nave a
look at this," forcibly wrested it from me, and, draw-
ing a chair to the table, composedly sat down to
examine it — turning back leaf after leaf to find an
explanation of what he had read. Unluckily for me,
he was more sober that night than he usually is at
such an hour.

Of course I did not leave him to pursue this occupa-
tion in quiet : I made several attempts to snatch the
book from his hands, but he held it too firmly for that ;

350 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

I upbraided him in bitterness and scorn for his mean
and dishonourable conduct, but that had no effect upon
him ; and, finally, I extinguished both the candles,
but he only wheeled round to the fire, and raising a
blaze sufficient for his purposes, calmly continued the
investigation. I had serious thoughts of getting a
pitcher of water and extinguishing that light too ; but
it was evident his curiosity was too keenly excited to
be quenched by that, and the more I manifested my
anxiety to baffle his scrutiny, the greater would be his
determination to persist in it — besides it was too late.

"It seems very interesting, love," said he, lifting
his head and turning to where I stood wringing my
hands in silent rage and anguish ; " but it's rather
long ; I'll look at it some other time ;— and meanwhile,
Fll trouble you for your keys, my dear."

" What keys ? "

"The keys of your cabinet, desk, drawers, and
whatever else you possess," said he, rising and holding
out his hand.

" I've not got them," I replied. The key of my
desk, in fact, was, at that moment, in the lock, and
the others were attached to it.

"Then you must send for them/' said he ; "and if
that old devil, Rachel, doesn't immediately deliver
them up, she tramps bag and baggage to-morrow."

" She doesn't know where they are," I answered,
quietly placing my hand upon them, and taking them
from the desk, as I thought, unobserved. " I know,
but I shall not give them up without a reason."

" And I know, too," said he, suddenly seizing my
closed hand and rudely abstracting them from it. He
then took up one of the candles and relighted it by
thrusting it into the fire.

" Now, then," sneered he, " we must have a con-
fiscation of property. But, first, let us take a peep
into the studio."

And putting the keys into his pocket, he walked
into the library. I followed, whether with the dim
idea of preventing mischief, or only to know the worst,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 361

I can hardly tell. My painting materials were laid
together on the corner table, ready for to-morrow's
use, and only covered with a cloth. He soon spied
them out, and putting down the candle, deliberately
proceeded to cast them into the fire — palette, paints,
bladders, pencils, brushes, varnish — I saw them all
consumed — the palette-knives snapped in two — the oi'
and turpentine sent hissing and roaring up the chim-
ney. He then rang the bell.

" Benson, take those things away," said he, pointing
to the easel, canvas, and stretcher ; " and tell the
housemaid she may kindle the fire with them : your
mistress won't want them any more."

Benson paused aghast and looked at me.

" Take them away, Benson," said I ; and his master
muttered an oath.

" And this and all, sir ? " said the astonished servant,
referring to the half-finished picture.

' ' That and all," replied the master ; and the things
were cleared away.

Mr Huntingdon then went up stairs. I did not
attempt to follow him, but remained seated in the arm-
chair, speechless, tearless, and almost motionless, till
he returned about half an hour after, and walking up
to me, held the candle in my face and peered into my
eyes with looks and laughter too insulting to be borne.
With a sudden stroke of my hand, I dashed the candle
to the floor.

" Hal-lo ! " muttered he, starting back — " She's the
very devil for spite ! Did ever any mortal see such
eyes ?— they shine in the dark like a cat's. Oh, you're
a sweet one ! " — so saying, he gathered up the candle
and the candlestick. The former being broken as well
as extinguished, he rang for another.

" Benson, your mistress has broken the candle :
bring another."

" You expose yourself finely," observed I as the man
departed.

" I didn't say I'd broken it, did I ? " returned he.
He then threw my keys into my lap, saying — " There !

362 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

you'll find nothing gone but your money, and the
jewels — and a few little trifles I thought it advisable to
take into my own possession, lest your mercantile spirit
should be tempted to turn them into gold. I've left
you a few sovereigns in your purse, which I expect to
last you through the month — at all events, when you
want more you will be so good as to give me an account
of how that's spent. I shall put you upon a small
monthly allowance, in future, for your own private
expenses ; and you needn't trouble yourself any more
about my concerns ; I shall look out for a steward, my
dear ; I won't expose you to the temptation. And as
for the household matters, Mrs Greaves must be very
particular in keeping her accounts : we must go upon
an entirely new plan

" What great discovery have you made now, Mr
Huntingdon? Have I attempted to defraud you?"

" Not in money matters, exactly, it seems, but it's
best to keep out of the way of temptation."

Here Benson entered with the candles, and there
followed a brief interval of silence ; I sitting still in
my chair, and he standing with his back to the fire,
silently triumphing in my despair.

" And so," said he at length, " you thought to dis-
grace me, did you, by running away and turning artist,
and supporting yourself by the labour of your hands,
forsooth ? And you thought to rob me of my son too,
and bring him up to be a dirty Yankee tradesman, or a
low, beggarly painter ? "

' ' Yes, to obviate his becoming such a gentleman as
his father."

" It's well you couldn't keep your own secret — ha,
ha ! It's well these women must be blabbing — if they
haven't a friend to talk to, they must whisper their
secrets to the fishes, or write them on the sand, or
something ; and it's well too I wasn't over full to-night,
now I think of it, or I might have snoozed away and
never dreamt of looking what my sweet lady was
about — or I might have lacked the sense or the power
to carry my point like a man, as I have done."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 353

Leaving him to his self-congratulations, I rose to
secure my manuscript, for I now remembered it had
been left upon the drawing-room table, and I deter-
mined, if possible, to save myself the humiliation of
seeing it in his hands again. 1 could not bear the ideu
of his amusing himself over my secret thoughts and
recollections ; though, to be sure, he would find little
good of himself therein indited, except in the former
part — and oh, I would sooner burn it all than he should
read what I had written when I was such a fool as to
love him !

" And by the by," cried he as I was leaving the
room, " you'd better tell that d — d old sneak of a
nurse to keep out of my way for a day or two — I'd pay
her her wages and send her packing to-morrow, but I
know she'd do more mischief out of the house than
in it."

And as I departed, he went on cursing and abusing
my faithful friend and servant with epithets I will not
defile this paper with repeating. I went to her as soon
as I had put away my book, and told her how our
project was defeated. She was as much distressed and
horrified as I was — and more so than I was that night,
for I was partly stunned by the blow, and partly
excited and supported against it by the bitterness of
my wrath. But in the morning, when I woke without
that cheering hope that had been my secret comfort
and support so long, and all this day, when I have wan-
dered about restless and objectless, shunning my
husband, shrinking even from my child — knowing that
I am unfit to be his teacher or companion, hoping
nothing for his future life, and fervently wishing In-
had never been born — J felt the full extent of my
calamity — and I feel it now. I know that day after
day such feelings will return upon me : I am a slave —
;i prisoner — but that is nothing ; if it were myself
alone, I would not complain, but I am forbidden to
rescue my son from ruin, and what was once my only
consolation, is become the crowning source of my
despair.

354 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

Have I no faith in God ? I try to look to him and
raise my heart to Heaven, but it will cleave to the
dust : 1 can only say—" He hath hedged me about,
that I cannot get out : he hath made my chain heavy.
He hath filled me with bitterness, he hath made me
drunken with wormwood:" — J forget to add — " But
though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion
according to the multitude of his mercies. For he
doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of
men." I ought to think of this : and if there be
nothing but sorrow for me in this world, what is the
longest life of misery to a whole eternity of peace?
And for my little Arthur — has he no friend but me?
Who was it said, ' ' It is not the will of your Father
which is in Heaven that one of these little ones should
perish " ?

CHAPTER XLI

MARCH 20th. — Having now got rid of Mr Huntingdon
for a season, my spirits begin to revive. He left me
early in February ; and the moment he was gone, I
breathed again, and felt my vital energy return ; not
with the hope of escape — he has taken care to leave me
no visible chance of that — but with a determination to
make the best of existing circumstances. Here was
Arthur left to me at last ; and rousing from my de-
spondent apathy, I exerted all my powers to eradicate
the weeds that had been fostered in his infant mind,
and sow again the good seed they had rendered unpro-
ductive. Thank Heaven, it is not a barren or a stony
soil ; if weeds spring fast there, so do better plants.
His apprehensions are more quick, his heart more over-
flowing with affection than ever his father's could have
been ; and it is no hopeless task to bend him to obedience
and win him to love and know his own true friend, as
long as there is no one to counteract my efforts.

I had much trouble at first in breaking him off those
evil habits his father had taught him to acquire, but

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 355

already that difficulty is nearly vanquished now : bad
language seldom defiles his mouth, and 1 have succeeded
in giving him an absolute disgust for all intoxicating
liquors, which I hope not even his father or his father's
friends will be able to overcome. He was inordinately
fond of them for so young a creature, and, remembering
my unfortunate father as well as his, I dreaded the con-
sequences of such a taste. But if I had stinted him in
his usual quantity of wine, or forbidden him to taste it
altogether, that would only have increased his partiality
for it, and made him regard it as a greater treat than
ever. I therefore gave him quite as much as his father
was accustomed to allow him — as much, indeed, as he
desired to have, but into every glass I surreptitiously
introduced a small quantity of tartar-emetic — just
enough to produce inevitable nausea and depression
without positive sickness. Finding such disagreeable
consequences invariably to result from this indulgence,
he soon grew weary of it, but the more he shrank from
the daily treat, the more I pressed it upon him, till
his reluctance was strengthened to perfect abhorrence.
When he was thoroughly disgusted with every kind of
wine, I allowed him, at his own request, to try brandy
and water, and then gin and water ; for the little toper
was familiar with them all, and I was determined that
all should be equally hateful to him. This I have now
effected ; and since he declares that the taste, the smell,
the sight of any one of them is sufficient to make him
sick, 1 have given up teasing him about them, except now
and then as objects of terror in cases of misbehaviour :
f< Arthur, if you're not a good boy I shall give you a
glass of wine," or " Now Arthur, if you say that again
you shall have some brandy and water," is as good as
any other threat; and, once or twice, when he \v;i>
sick, J have obliged the poor child to swallow a little
wine and water without the tartar-emetic, by way of
medicine ; and this practice I intend to continue for
some time to come ; not that I think it of any reul
service in a physical sense, but because 1 am determined
to enlist all the powers of association in my service :

356 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

wish this aversion to be so deeply grounded in his
nature that nothing in after-life may be able to over-
come it

Thus, I flatter myself I shall secure him from this
one vice ; and for the rest, if on his father's return I
find reason to apprehend that my good lessons will be
all destroyed— if Mr Huntingdon commence again the
game of teaching the child to hate and despise his
mother and emulate his father's wickedness, 1 will yet
deliver my son from his hands. I have devised another
scheme that might be resorted to in such a case, and if
I could but obtain my brothers consent and assistance,
I should not doubt of its success. The old hall where
he and I were born, and where our mother died, is not
now inhabited, nor yet quite sunk into decay, as 1
believe. Now if I could persuade him to have one or
two rooms made habitable, and to let them to me as a
stranger, I might live there, with my child, under an
assumed name, and still support myself by my favourite
art. He should lend me the money to begin with, and
I would pay him back and live in lowly independence
and strict seclusion, for the house stands in a lonely
place, and the neighbourhood is thinly inhabited, and
he himself should negotiate the sale of my pictures for
me. I have arranged the whole plan in my head ; and
all I want, is to persuade Frederick to be of the same
mind as myself. He is coming to see me soon, and
then I will make the proposal to him, having first
enlightened him upon my circumstances sufficiently
to excuse the project.

Already, I believe, he knows much more of my
situation than I have told him. I can tell this by
the air of tender sadness pervading his letters ; and
by the fact of his so seldom mentioning my husband,
and generally evincing a kind of covert bitterness when
he does refer to him ; as well as by the circumstance
of his never coming to see me when Mr Huntingdon
is at home. But he has never openly expressed any
disapprobation of him or sympathy for me ; he has
never asked any questions, or said anything to invite

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 367

my confidence. Had he done so, I should probably
have had but few concealments from him. Perhaps
he feels hurt at my reserve. He is a strange being —
I wish we knew each other better. He used to spend
a month at Staningley every year, before I was
married ; but, since our father's death, I have only
seen him once, when he came for a few days while Mr
Huntingdon was away. He shall stay many days this
time, and there shall be more candour and cordiality
between us than ever there was before, since our early
childhood : my heart clings to him more than ever ;
and my soul is sick of solitude.

April 16th. — He is come and gone. He would not
stay above a fortnight. The time passed quickly, but
very, very happily, and it has done me good. I must
have a bad disposition, for my misfortunes have soured
and embittered me exceedingly : I was beginning
insensibly to cherish very unamiable feelings against
my fellow mortals — the male part of them especially ;
but it is a comfort to see there is at least one among
them worthy to be trusted and esteemed ; and doubt-
less there are more, though I have never known them
— unless I except poor Lord Lowborough, and he was
bad enough in his day ; but what would Frederick
have been, if he had lived in the world, and mingled
from his childhood with such men as these of my
acquaintance ? and what will Arthur be, with all his
natural sweetness of disposition, if I do not save him
from that world and those companions ? I mentioned
my fears to Frederick, and introduced the subject of
my plan of rescue on the evening after his arrival,
when I presented my little son to his uncle.

" He is like you, Frederick," said I, " in some of
his moods : I sometimes think he resembles you more
than his fattier ; and I am glad of it."

" You flatter me, Helen," replied he, stroking the
child's soft, wavy locks.

" No, — you will think it no compliment when I tell
you I would rather have him to resemble Benson than
hi> father."

358 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

He slightly elevated his eyebrows, but said nothing.

" Do you know what sort of man Mr Huntingdon
is ? " said I.

"1 think I have an idea."

" Have you so clear an idea that you can hear,
without surprise or disapproval, that I meditate
escaping with that child to some secret asylum
where we can live in peace and never see him
again ? "

" Is it really so ? "

" If you have not," continued I, " I'll tell you
something more about him," — and I gave a sketch
of his general conduct, and a more particular account
of his behaviour with regard to his child, and ex-
plained my apprehensions on the latter's account, and
my determination to deliver him from his father's
influence.

Frederick was exceedingly indignant against Mr
Huntingdon, and very much grieved for me ; but still
he looked upon my project as wild and impracticable ;
he deemed my fears for Arthur disproportioned to the
circumstances, and opposed so many objections to my
plan, and devised so many milder methods for
ameliorating my condition, that I was obliged to
enter into further details to convince him that my
husband was utterly incorrigible, and that nothing
could persuade him to give up his son, whatever
became of me, he being as fully determined the child
should not leave him, as I was not to leave the child ;
and that, in fact, nothing would answer but this,
unless I fled the country, as I had intended before.
To obviate that, he at length consented to have one
wing of the old Hall put into a habitable condition, as
a place of refuge against a time of need ; but hoped I
would not take advantage of it, unless circumstances
should render it really necessary, which I was ready
enough to promise ; for though, for my own sake,
such a hermitage appears like paradise itself, com-
pared with my present situation, yet for my friends'
sakes — for Milicent and Esther, my sisters in heart and

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 369

affection, for the poor tenants of Grassdale, and above
all for my aunt — I will stay if I possibly can.

July 29th. — Mrs Hargrave and her daughter are
come back from London. Esther is full of her first
season in town ; but she is still heart-whole and unen-
gaged. Her mother sought out an excellent match
for her, and even brought the gentleman to lay his
heart and fortune at her feet ; but Esther had the
audacity to refuse the noble gifts. He was a man of
good family and large possessions, but the naughty girl
maintained he was as old as Adam, ugly as sin, and
hateful as one who shall be nameless.

" But, indeed, I had a hard time of it," said she f
" mamma was very greatly disappointed at the failure )
of her darling project, and very, very angry at my
obstinate resistance to her will, and is so still ; but I
I can't help it. And Walter, too, is so seriously
displeased at my perversity and absurd caprice, as he
calls it, that I fear he will never forgive me — I did
not think he could be so unkind as he has lately shown
himself. But Milicent begged me not to yield, and
Pm sure, Mrs Huntingdon, if you had seen the man
they wanted to palm upon me, you would have advised /
me not to take him too." f

"I should have done so whether I had seen him or
not," said I. " It is enough that you dislike him."

" I knew you would say so ; though mamma affirmed
you would be quite shocked at my undutiful conduct —
you can't imagine how she lectures me— I am dis-
obedient and ungrateful ; I am thwarting her wishes,
wronging my brother, and making myself a burden on
her hands — I sometimes fear she'll overcome me after
all. I have a strong will, but so has she, and when
she says such bitter things, it provokes me to such a
pass that I feel inclined to do as she bids me, and then
break my heart and say, ' There, mamma, it's all your
fault ! ' "

" Pray don't ! " said I. " Obedience from such a
motive would be positive wickedness, and certain to
bring the punishment it deserves. Stand firm, and

360 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

your mamma will soon relinquish her persecution ; —
and the gentleman himself will cease to pester you with
his addresses if he finds them steadily rejected."

" Oh, no ! mamma will weary all about her before
she tires herself with her exertions ; and as for Mr
Oldfield, she has given him to understand that 1 have
refused his offer, not from any dislike of his person,
but merely because I am giddy and young, and cannot
at present reconcile myself to the thoughts of marriage
under any circumstances : but, by next season, she has
no doubt, I shall have more sense, and hopes my girlish
fancies will be worn away. So she has brought me
home, to school me into a proper sense of my duty,
against the time comes round again — indeed, I believe
she will not put herself to the expense of taking me
up to London again, unless I surrender : she cannot
afford to take me to town for pleasure and nonsense,
she says, and it is not every rich gentleman that will
consent to take me without a fortune, whatever exalted
ideas I may have of my own attractions."

" Well, Esther, I pity you ; but still, I repeat,
stand firm. You might as well sell yourself to slavery
at once, as marry a man you dislike. If your
mother and brother are unkind to you, you may leave
them, but remember you are bound to your husband
Cor life."

)" But I cannot leave them unless I get married, and
/cannot get married if nobody sees me. I saw one or
two gentlemen in London that I might have liked, but
they were younger sons, and mamma would not let
me get to know them — one especially, who I believe
rather liked me, but she threw every possible obstacle
in the way of our better acquaintance — wasn't it
provoking ? "

" I have no doubt you would feel it so, but it is
possible that if you married him, you might have more
reason to regret it hereafter, than if you married Mr
Oldfield. When I tell you not to marry without love,
I do not advise you to marry for love alone — there are
many, many other things to be considered. Keep both

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 361

heart and hand in your own possession, till you see
good reason to part with them ; and if such an occasion
should never present itself, comfort your mind with
this reflection — that, though in single life your joys
may not be very many, your sorrows, at least, will not^
he more than you can bear. Marriage may change j
your circumstances for the better, but, in my private C(
opinion, it is far more likely to produce a contrary )
result." /

' ' So thinks Milicent ; but allow me to say, I think
otherwise. If I thought myself doomed to oldmaiden-
hood, J should cease to value my life. The thoughts
of living on, year after year, at the Grove — a hanger-on
upon mamma and Walter — a mere cumberer of the
ground (now that I know in what light they would
regard it), is perfectly intolerable — I would rather run
away with the butler."

'• Your circumstances are peculiar, I allow ; but
have patience, love ; do nothing rashly. Remember
you are not yet nineteen, and many years are yet to
pass before any one can set you down as an old maid :
you cannot tell what Providence may have in store for
you. And meantime, remember you have a right to
the protection and support of your mother and brother,
however they may seem to grudge it."

"You are so grave, Mrs Huntingdon," said Esther,
after a pause. " When Milicent uttered the same
discouraging sentiments concerning marriage, I asked
if she was happy : she said she was ; but I only half
believed her ; and now I must put the same question
to you."

" It is a very impertinent question," laughed I,
" from a young girl to a married woman so many years
her senior — and I shall not answer it."

" Pardon me, dear madam," said she, laughingly
throwing herself into my arms, and kissing me with
playful affection ; but 1 felt a tear on my neck, as she
dropped her head on my bosom and continued, with
an odd mixture of sadness and levity, timidity and
audacity, — " I know you are not so happy as I mean

362 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

to be, for you spend half your life alone at Grassdale,
while Mr Huntingdon goes about enjoying himself
where and how he pleases — I shall expect my husband
to have no pleasures but what he shares with me ;
and if his greatest pleasure of all is not the enjoyment
of my company — why — it will be the worse for him —
that's all."

" If such are your expectations of matrimony, Esther,
you must, indeed, be careful whom you marry — or
rather, you must avoid it altogether."

CHAPTER XLII

SEPTEMBER 1st. — No Mr Huntingdon yet. Perhaps
he will stay among his friends till Christmas ; and
then, next spring, he will be off again. If he con-
tinue this plan, I shall be able to stay at Grassdale
well enough — that is, 1 shall be able to stay, and that
is enough ; even an occasional bevy of friends at the
shooting season may be borne, if Arthur get so firmly
attached to me, so well established in good sense and
principles before they come, that I shall be able, by
reason and affection, to keep him pure from their con-
taminations. Vain hope, I fear ! but still, till such a
time of trial comes, I will forbear to think of my quiet
asylum in the beloved old Hall.

Mr and Mrs Hattersley have been staying at the
Grove a fortnight ; and as Mr Harsrave is still absent,
and the weather was remarkably fine, I never passed a
day without seeing my two friends, Milicent and
Esther, either there or here. On one occasion, when
Mr Hattersley had driven them over to Grassdale in
the phaeton, with little Helen and Ralph, and we were
enjoying ourselves in the garden — 1 had a few minutes'
conversation with that gentleman, while the ladies
were amusing themselves with the children.

"Do you want to hear anything of your husband,
Mrs Huntingdon ? " said he.

THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL 363

" No, unless you can tell me when to expect him
home."

"I can't. — You don't want him, do you?" said he,
with a broad grin.

"No."

" Well, I think you're better without him, sure
enough — for my part, I'm downright weary of him.
I told him I'd leave him if he didn't mend his manners
— and he wouldn't ; so I left him — you see I'm a better
man than you think me ; and, what's more, I have
serious thoughts of washing my hands of him entirely,
and the whole set of 'em, and comporting myself from
this day forward, with all decency and sobriety, as a
Christian and the father of a family should do. What
do you think of that?"

" It is a resolution you ought to have formed long
ago."

" Well, I'm not thirty yet ; it isn't too late, is it ? "

" No ; it is never too late to reform, as long as you
have the sense to desire it, and the strength to execute
your purpose."

"Well, to tell you the truth, I've thought of it
often and often before, but he's such devilish good
company is Huntingdon, after all — you can't imagine
what a jovial good fellow he is when he's not fairly
drunk, only just primed or half seas over — we all have
a bit of a liking for him at the bottom of our hearts,
though we can't respect him."

" But should you wish yourself to be like him?"

" No, I'd rather be like myself, bad as I am."

" You can't continue as bad as you are without
getting worse, and more brutalised every day — and
therefore more like him."

I could not help smiling at the comical, half-angry,
half-confounded look he put on at this rather unusual
mode of address.

" Never mind my plain speaking," said I ; "it is
from the best of motives. But, tell me, should you
wish your sons to be like Mr Huntingdon — or even like
yourself? "

364 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" Hang it, no."

" Should you wish your daughter to despise you —
or, at least, to feel no vestige of respect for you,
and no affection but what is mingled with the bitterest
regret ? "

" Oh, no ! I couldn't stand that."

" And finally, should you wish your wife to be ready
to sink into the earth when she hears you mentioned ;
and to loathe the very sound of your voice, and
shudder at your approach?"

" She never will ; she likes me all the same, what-
ever I do."

" Impossible, Mr Hattersley ! you mistake her quiet
submission for affection."

" Fire and fury "

" Now, don't burst into a tempest at that — I don't
mean to say she does not love you — she does, I know,
a great deal better than you deserve ; but I am quite
sure, that if you behave better, she will love you
more, and if you behave worse, she will love you less
and less, till all is lost in fear, aversion, and bitterness
of soul, if not in secret hatred and contempt. But,
dropping the subject of affection, should you wish to
be the tyrant of her life — to take away all the sun-
shine from her existence, and make her thoroughly
miserable ? "

" Of course not ; and I don't, and I'm not going
to."

" You have done more towards it than you suppose."

" Pooh, pooh ! she's not the susceptible, anxious,
worriting creature you imagine : she's a little meek,
peaceable, affectionate body ; apt to be rather sulky at
times, but quiet and cool in the main, and ready to
take things as they come."

" Think of what she was five years ago, when you
married her, and what she is now."

" I know — she was a little plump lassie then, with a
pretty pink and white face : now she's a poor little bit
of a creature, fading and melting away like a snow-
wreath — but hang it ! — that's not my fault."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 365

" What is the cause of it then ? Not years, for she's
only five and twenty."

" It's her own delicate health, and — confound it,
madam ! what would you make of me ? — and the chil-
dren, to be sure, that worry her to death between them."

" No, Mr Hattersley, the children give her more
pleasure than pain : they are fine, well-dispositioned
children "

" I know they are — bless them ! "

" Then why lay the blame on them ? — I'll tell you
what it is : it's silent fretting and constant anxiety on
your account, mingled, 1 suspect, with something of
bodily fear on her own. When you behave well, she
can only rejoice with trembling ; she has no security,
no confidence in your judgment or principles ; but is
continually dreading the close of such short-lived
felicity ; when you behave ill, her causes of terror
and misery are more than any one can tell but herself.
In patient endurance of evil, she forgets it is our duty
to admonish our neighbours of their transgressions.
Since you will mistake her silence for indifference,
come with me, and I'll show you one or two of her
letters — no breach of confidence, I hope, since you are
her other half."

He followed me into the library. I sought out and
put into his hands two of Milicent's letters ; one dated
from London, and written during one of his wildest
seasons of reckless dissipation ; the other in the
country during a lucid interval. The former was full
of trouble and anguish ; not accusing him, but deeply
regretting his connection with his profligate com-
panions, abusing Mr Grimsby and others, insinuating
bitter things against Mr Huntingdon, and most in-
geniously throwing the blame of her husband's mis-
conduct on to other men's shoulders. The latter was
full of hope and joy, yet with a trembling conscious-
ness that this happiness would not last ; praising his
goodness to the skies, but with an evident, though but
half-expressed wish, that it were based on a surer
foundation than the natural impulses of the heart, and

366 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

a half-prophetic dread of the fall of that house so
founded on the sand, — which fall had shortly after
taken place, as Hattersley must have been conscious
while he read.

Almost at the commencement of the first letter I had
the unexpected pleasure of seeing him blush ; but he
immediately turned his back to me, and finished the
perusal at the window. At the second, I saw him,
once or twice, raise his hand, and hurriedly pass it
across his face. Could it be to dash away a tear?
When he had done, there was an interval spent in
clearing his throat, and staring out of the window, and
then, after whistling a few bars of a favourite air, he
turned round, gave me back the letters, and silently
shook me by the hand.

" I've been a cursed rascal, God knows," said he, as
he gave it a hearty squeeze, " but you see if I don't
make amends for it — d — n me if I don't ! "

" Don't curse yourself, Mr Hattersley ; if God had
heard half your invocations of that kind, you would
have been in hell long before now — and you cannot
make amends for the past by doing your duty for the
future, inasmuch as your duty is only what you owe to
your Maker, and you cannot do more than fulfil it —
another must make amends for your past delinquencies.
If you intend to reform, invoke God's blessing, his
mercy, and his aid ; not his curse."

" God help me, then — for I'm sure I need it —
Where's Milicent?"

" She's there, just coming in with her sister."

He stepped out at the glass door, and went to meet
them. I followed at a little distance. Somewhat to
his wife's astonishment, he lifted her off from the
ground, and saluted her with a hearty kiss and a strong
embrace ; then, placing his two hands on her shoulders,
he gave her, I suppose, a sketch of the great things he
meant to do, for she suddenly threw her arms round
him, and burst into tears, exclaiming, —

" Do, do, Ralph— we shall be so happy ! How very,
very good you are ! "

THE TENANT OF VVILDFELL HALL 367

" Nay, not I," said he, turning her round, and push-
ing her towards me. " Thank her ; it's her doing."

Milicent flew to thank me, overflowing with grati-
tude. I disclaimed all title to it, telling her her
husband was predisposed to amendment before I added
my mite of exhortation and encouragement, and that I
had only done what she might — and ought to — have
done herself.

" Oh, no ! " cried she, " I couldn't have influenced
him, I'm sure, by anything that I could have said. I
should only have bothered him by my clumsy efforts at
persuasion, if I had made the attempt."

" You never tried me, Milly," said he.

Shortly after, they took their leave. They are now
gone on a visit to Hattersley's father. After that, they
will repair to their country home. I hope his good
resolutions will not fall through, and poor Milicent
will not be again disappointed. Her last letter was
full of present bliss, and pleasing anticipations for the
future ; but no particular temptation has yet occurred
to put his virtue to the test. Henceforth, however,
she will doubtless be somewhat less timid and reserved,
and he more kind and thoughtful. — Surely, then, her
hopes are not unfounded ; and I have one bright spot,
at least, whereon to rest my thoughts.

CHAPTER XLIII

OCTOBER 10th. — Mr Huntingdon returned about three
weeks ago. His appearance, his demeanour and con-
versation, and my feelings with regard to him, I shall
not trouble myself to describe. The day after his
arrival, however, he surprised me by the announce-
ment of an intention to procure a governess for little
Arthur : I told him it was quite unnecessary, not to
say ridiculous, at the present season : I thought I was
fully competent to the task of teaching him myself —
for some years to come, at least : the child's education
was the only pleasure and business of my life ; and

368 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

since he had deprived me of every other occupation,
he might surely leave me that.

He said I was not fit to teach children, or to be with
them : I had already reduced the boy to little better
than an automaton, I had broken his fine spirit with
my rigid severity ; and I should freeze all the sunshine
out of his heart, and make him as gloomy an ascetic
as myself, if 1 had the handling of him much longer.
And poor Rachel, too, came in for her share of abuse,
as usual ; he cannot endure Rachel, because he knows
she has a proper appreciation of him.

I calmly defended our several qualifications as nurse
and governess, and still resisted the proposed addition
to our family ; but he cut me short by saying, it was
no use bothering about the matter, for he had engaged
a governess already, and she was coming next week ;
so that all I had to do was to get things ready for her
reception. This was a rather startling piece of intelli-
gence. I ventured to inquire her name and address,
by whom she had been recommended, or how he had
been led to make choice of her.

" She is a very estimable, pious young person," said
he ; " you needn't be afraid. Her name is Myers, I
believe ; and she was recommended to me by a res-
pectable old dowager — a lady of high repute in the
religious world. I have not seen her myself, and
therefore cannot give you a particular account of her
person and conversation, and so forth ; but, if the old
lady's eulogies are correct, you will find her to possess
all desirable qualifications for her position — an inor-
dinate love of children among the rest."

All this was gravely and quietly spoken, but there
was a laughing demon in his half-averted eye that
boded no good I imagined. However I thought of my
asylum in shire, and made no further objections.

When Miss Myers arrived, I was not prepared to
give her a very cordial reception. Her appearance
was not particularly calculated to produce a favourable
impression at first sight, nor did her manners and
subsequent conduct, in any degree, remove the pre-

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 369

judice I had already conceived against her. Her
attainments were limited, her intellect noways above
mediocrity. She had a tine voice, and could sing like
a nightingale, and accompany herself sufficiently well
on the piano ; but these were her only accomplish-
ments. There was a look of guile and subtlety in her
face, a sound of it in her voice. She seemed afraid of
me, and would start if I suddenly approached her. In
her behaviour, she was respectful and complaisant,
even to servility : she attempted to flatter and fawn
upon me at first, but I soon checked that. Her fond-
ness for her little pupil was overstrained, and I was
obliged to remonstrate with her on the subject of
over-indulgence and injudicious praise ; but she could
not gain his heart. Her piety consisted in an occa-
sional heaving of sighs, and uplifting of eyes to the
ceiling, and the utterance of a few cant phrases. She
told me she was a clergyman's daughter, and had been
left an orphan from her childhood, but had had the
good fortune to obtain a situation in a very pious
family ; and then she spoke so gratefully of the kind-
ness she had experienced from its different members,
that I reproached myself for my uncharitable thoughts
and unfriendly conduct, and relented for a time — but
not for long ; my causes of dislike were too rational,
my suspicions too well founded for that ; and I knew
it was my duty to watch and scrutinise till those
suspicions were either satisfactorily removed or con-
firmed.

I asked the name and residence of the kind and
pious family. She mentioned a common name, and
an unknown and distant place of abode, but told me
they were now on the Continent, and their present
address was unknown to her. I never saw her speak
much to Mr Huntingdon ; but he would frequently
look into the school-room to see how little Arthur got
on with his new companion, when I was not there.
In the evening, she sat with us in the drawing-room,
and would sing and play to amuse him — or us, as she
pretended — and was very attentive to his wants, and
2 A

370 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

watchful to anticipate them, though she only talked
to me — indeed, he was seldom in a condition to be
talked to. Had she been other than she was, I should
have felt her presence a great relief to come between
us thus, except, indeed, that 1 should have been
thoroughly ashamed for any decent person to see him
as he often was.

J did not mention my suspicions to Rachel ; but
she, having sojourned for half a century in this land of
sin and sorrow, has learned to be suspicious herself.
She told me from the first she was " down of that
new governess," and I soon found she watched her
quite as narrowly as I did ; and I was glad of it, for I
longed to know the truth ; the atmosphere of Grass-
dale seemed to stifle me, and 1 could only live by
thinking of Wildfell Hall.

At last, one morning, she entered my chamber
with such intelligence that my resolution was taken
before she had ceased to speak. While she dressed me
I explained to her my intentions and what assistance I
should require from her, and told her which of my
things she was to pack up, and what she was to leave
behind for herself, as I had no other means of recom-
pensing her for this sudden dismissal after her long
and faithful service — a circumstance I most deeply
regretted, but could not avoid.

" And what will you do, Rachel ? " said I ; " will
you go home, or seek another place ? "

' c I have no home, ma'am, but with you," she
replied ; " and if 1 leave you I'll never go into place
again as long as I live."

" But I can't afford to live like a lady, now,"
returned I : ' ' I must be my own maid and my child's
nurse."

" What signifies ! " replied she in some excitement.
" You'll want somebody to clean and wash, and cook,
won't you ? I can do all that ; and never mind the
wages — I've my bits o' savings yet, and if you wouldn't
take me I should have to find my own board and
lodging out of 'em somewhere, or else work among

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 371

strangers — and it's what I'm not used to — so you can
please yourself, ma'am." Her voice quavered as she
spoke, and the tears stood in her eyes.

" I should like it above all things, Rachel, and I'd
give you such wages as I could afford — such as I should
give to any rervant-of-all-work I might employ ; but
don't you see I should be dragging you down with me
when you have done nothing to deserve it?"

" Oh, fiddlt. ! " ejaculated she.

ee And, besides, my future way of living will be so
widely different to the past — so different to all you
have been accustomed to "

" Do you think, ma'am, I can't bear what my missis
can ? surely I'm not so proud and so dainty as that
comes to — and my little master, too, God bless him ? "

" But I'm young, Rachel ; I shan't mind it ; and
Arthur is young too — it will be nothing to him."

" Nor me either : I'm not so old but what I can
stand hard fare and hard work, if it's only to help and
comfort them as I've loved like my own bairns — for all
I'm too old to bide the thoughts o' leaving 'em in trouble
and danger, and going amongst strangers myself."

"Then you shan't, Rachel ! " cried I, embracing my
faithful friend. " We'll all go together, and you shall
see how the new life suits you."

" Bless you, honey ! " cried she, affectionately
returning my embrace. " Only let us get shut of this
wicked house, and we'll do right enough, you'll see."

"So think I," was my answer; and so that point
was settled.

By that morning's post, I dispatched a few hasty
lines to Frederick, beseeching him to prepare my
asylum for my immediate reception — for I should pro-
bably come to claim it within a day after the receipt of
that note, — and telling him, in a few words, the cause
of my sudden resolution. I then wrote three letters of
adieu : the first to Esther Hargrave, in which I told
her that I found it impossible to stay any longer at
(Jrassdale, or to leave my son under his father's
protection ; and, as it was of the last importance that

372 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

our future abode should be unknown to him and his
acquaintance, I should disclose it to no one but my
brother, through the medium of whom I hoped still to
correspond with my friends. I then »ave her his
address, exhorted her to write frequently, reiterated
some of my former admonitions regarding her own con-
cerns, and bade her a fond farewell.

The second was to Milicent ; much to the same
effect, but a little more confidential, as befitted our
longer intimacy, and her greater experience and better
acquaintance with my circumstances.

The third was to my aunt — a much more difficult
and painful undertaking, and therefore I had left it to
the last ; but I must give her some explanation of that
extraordinary step I had taken, — and that quickly, for
she and my uncle would no doubt hear of it within a
day or two after my disappearance, as it was probable
that Mr Huntingdon would speedily apply to them to
know what was become of me. At last, however, 1
told her I was sensible of my error : I did not com-
plain of its punishment, and I was sorry to trouble my
friends with its consequences ; but in duty to my son, I
must submit no longer ; it was absolutely necessary
that he should be delivered from his father's corrupting
influence. I should not disclose my place of refuge
even to her, in order that she and my uncle might be
able, with truth, to deny all knowledge concerning it ;
but any communications addressed to me under cover
to my brother would be certain to reach me. I hoped
she and my uncle would pardon the step I had taken,
for if they knew all, I was sure they would not blame
me ; and I trusted they would not afflict themselves
on my account, for if I could only reach my retreat in
safety and keep it unmolested, I should be very happy,
but for the thoughts of them ; and should be quite con-
tented to spend my life in obscurity, devoting myself
to the training up of my child, and teaching him to
avoid the errors of both his parents.

These things were done yesterday : I have given two
whole days to the preparation for our departure, that

THE TENANT OF VVILDFELL HALL 373

Frederick may have more time to prepare the rooms,
aud Rachel to pack up the things — for the latter task
must be done with the utmost caution and secrecy, and
there is no one but me to assist her : I can help to get
the articles together, but I do not understand the art
of stowing them into the boxes, so as to take up the
smallest possible space ; and there are her own things
to do, as well as mine and Arthur's. I can ill afford
to leave anything behind, since I have no money,
except a few guineas in my purse ; — and besides, as
Rachel observed, whatever I left would most likely
become the property of Miss Myers, and I should not
relish that.

But what trouble [ have had throughout these two
days struggling to appear calm and collected — to meet
him and her as usual, when I was obliged to meet
them, and forcing myself to leave my little Arthur in
her bauds for hours together ! But I trust these
trials are over now : I have laid him in my bed for
better security, and never more, I trust, shall his in-
nocent lips be defiled by their contaminating kisses,
or his young ears polluted by their words. But shall
we escape in safety ? Oh, that the morning were come,
aud we were on our way at least ! This evening, when
I had given Rachel all the assistance I could, and had
nothing left me but to wait, and wish and tremble, I
became so greatly agitated, that I knew not what to do.
I went down to dinner, but I could not force myself
to eat. Mr Huntingdon remarked the circumstance.

" What's to do with you now ? " said he, when the
removal of the second course gave him time to look
about him.

" 1 am not well," I replied : " I think I must lie
down a little — you won't miss me much?"

" Not the least ; if you leave your chair, it'll do
just as well — better a trifle," he muttered, as I left the
room, "for I can fancy somebody else fills it."

" Somebody else may till it to-morrow," I thought
— but did not say. " There ! I've seen the last of you,
I hope," I muttered as I closed the door upon him.

374 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

Rachel urged me to seek repose, at once, to recruit
my strength for to-morrow's journey, as we must be
gone before the dawn, but in my present state of ner-
vous excitement that was entirely out of the question.
It was equally out of the question to sit, or wander
about my room, counting the hours and the minutes
between me and the appointed time of action, straining
my ears and trembling at every sound lest some one
should discover and betray us after all. I took up a
book and tried to read. My eyes wandered over the
pages, but it was impossible to bind my thoughts to
their contents. Why not have recourse to the old
expedient, and add this last event to my chronicle ? I
opened its pages once more, and wrote the above
account — with difficulty, at first, but gradually my
mind became more calm and steady. Thus several
hours have past away : the time is drawing near ; —
and now my eyes feel heavy, and my frame exhausted :
I will commend my cause to God, and then lie down
and gain an hour or two of sleep ; and then ! —

Little Arthur sleeps soundly. All the house is
still : there can be no one watching. The boxes were
all corded by Benson, and quietly conveyed down the
back stairs after dusk, and sent away in a cart to the

M coach-office. The name upon the cards was

Mrs Graham, which appellation I mean henceforth to
adopt. My mother's maiden name was Graham, and
therefore I fancy I have some claim to it, and prefer
it to any other, except my own, which I dare not
resume.

CHAPTER XLIV

OCTOBER 24th. — Thank Heaven, I am free and safe at
last ! — Early we rose, swiftly and quietly dressed,
slowly and stealthily descended to the hall, where
Benson stood ready with a light to open the door and
fasten it after us. We were obliged to let one man
into our secret on account of the boxes, &c. All the

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 375

servants were but too well acquainted with their
master's conduct, and either Benson or John would
have been willing to serve me, but as the former was
more staid and elderly, and a crony of Rachel's
besides, I of course directed her to make choice of him
as her assistant and confidant on the occasion, as far
as necessity demanded. I only hope he may not be
brought into trouble thereby, and only wish I could
reward him for the perilous service he was so ready to
undertake. I slipped two guineas into his hand, by
way of remembrance as he stood in the door-way, hold-
ing the candle to light our departure, with a tear in
his honest grey eye and a host of good wishes depicted
on his solemn countenance. Alas ! I could offer no
more : I had barely sufficient remaining for the pro-
bable expenses of the journey.

VVhat trembling joy it was when the little wicket
closed behind us, as we issued from the park ! Then,
for one moment, I paused, to inhale one draught of
that cool, bracing air, and venture one look back upon
the house. All was dark and still ; no light glimmered
in the windows ; no wreath of smoke obscured the
stars that sparkled above it in the frosty sky. As I
bade farewell for ever to that place, the scene of so
much guilt and misery, I felt glad that I had not
left it before, for now there was no doubt about the
propriety of such a step — no shadow of remorse for
him I left behind : there was nothing to disturb my
joy but the fear of detection ; and every step removed
us further from the chance of that.

We had left Grassdale many miles behind us before
the round, red sun arose to welcome our deliverance,
and if any inhabitant of its vicinity had chanced to
see us then, as we bowled along on the top of the
coach, I scarcely think they would have suspected our
identity. As I intend to be taken for a widow I
thought it advisable to enter my new abode in
mourning : I was therefore attired in a plain black
silk dress and mantle, a black veil (which I kept
carefully over my face for the first twenty or thirty

376 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

miles of the journey), and a black silk bonnet, which I
had been constrained to borrow of Rachel for want of
such an article myself — it was not in the newest
fashion, of course ; but none the worse for that,
under present circumstances. Arthur was clad
in his plainest clothes, and wrapped in a coarse
woollen shawl ; and Rachel was muffled in a grey
cloak and hood that had seen better days, and gave
her more the appearance of an ordinary though decent
old woman, than of a lady's maid.

Oh, what delight it was to be thus seated aloft,
rumbling along the broad, sunshiny road, with the
fresh morning breeze in my face, surrounded by an
unknown country all smiling — cheerfully, gloriously
smiling in the yellow lustre of those early beams, —
with my darling child in my arms, almost as happy as
myself, and my faithful friend beside me ; a prison
and despair behind me, receding further, further back
at every clatter of the horses' feet, — and liberty and
hope before ! I could hardly refrain from praising
God aloud for my deliverance, or astonishing my
fellow passengers by some surprising outburst of
hilarity.

But the journey was a very long one, and we were
all weary enough before the close of it. It was far

into the night when we reached the town of L ,

and still we were seven miles from our journey's end ;
and there was no more coaching — nor any conveyance
to be had, except a common cart — and that with the
greatest difficulty, for half the town was in bed. And
a dreary ride we had of it that last stage of the
journey, cold and weary as we were ; sitting on our
boxes, with nothing to cling to, nothing to lean against,
slowly dragged and cruelly shaken over the rough,
hilly roads. But Arthur was asleep in Rachel's lap,
and between us we managed pretty well to shield him
from the cold night air.

At last we began to ascend a terribly steep and
stony lane which, in spite of the darkness, Rachel said
she remembered well : she had often walked there

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 377

with me in her arms, and little thought to come
again so many years after, under such circumstances
as the present. Arthur being now awakened by the
jolting and the stoppages, we all got out and walked.
We had not far to go ; but what if Frederick should
not have received my letter ? or if he should not have
had time to prepare the rooms for our reception ; and
we should find them all dark, damp, and comfortless ;
destitute of food, fire, and furniture, after all our
toil ?

At length the grim, dark pile appeared before us.
The lane conducted us round by the back way. We
entered the desolate court, and in breathless anxiety
surveyed the ruinous mass. Was it all blackness and
desolation ? No ; one faint red glimmer cheered us
from a window where the lattice was in good repair.
The door was fastened, but after due knocking and
waiting, and some parleying with a voice from an
upper window, we were admitted, by an old woman
who had been commissioned to air and keep the house
till our arrival, into a tolerably snug little apartment,
formerly the scullery of the mansion, which Frederick
had now fitted up as a kitchen. Here she procured us
a light, roused the fire to a cheerful blaze, and soon
prepared a simple repast for our refreshment ; while
we disencumbered ourselves of our travelling gear, and
took a hasty survey of our new abode. Besides the
kitchen there were two bed-rooms, a good-sized parlour,
and another smaller one, which I destined for my
studio, all well aired and seemingly in good repair,
but only partly furnished with a few old articles,
chiefly of ponderous black oak — the veritable ones
that had been there before, and which had been kept
as antiquarian relics in my brother's present residence,
and now, in all haste, transported back again.

The old woman brought my supper and Arthur's
into the parlour, and told me, with all due formality,
that "The master desired his compliments to Mrs
Graham, and he had prepared the rooms as well as
he could upon so short a notice, but he would do

378 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

himself the pleasure of calling upon her to-morrow,
to receive her further commands."

I was glad to ascend the stern-looking stone stair-
case, and lie dowii in the gloomy old-fashioned bed,
beside my little Arthur. He was asleep in a minute ;
but, weary as I was, my excited feelings and restless
cogitations kept me awake till dawn began to struggle
with the darkness ; but sleep was sweet and refreshing
when it came, and the waking was delightful beyond
expression. It was little Arthur that roused me,
with his gentle kisses : — He was here, then — safely
clasped in my arms, and many leagues away from his
unworthy father ! Broad daylight illumined the
apartment, for the sun was high in heaven, though
obscured by rolling masses of autumnal vapour.

The scene, indeed, was not remarkably cheerful in
itself, either within or without. The large bare room,
with its grim old furniture, the narrow, latticed win-
dows, revealing the dull, grey sky above and the desolate
wilderness below, where the dark stone walls and iron
gate, the rank growth of grass and weeds, and the hardy
evergreens of preternatural forms, alone remained to
tell that there had been once a garden, — and the bleak
and barren fields beyond might have struck me as
gloomy enough at another time, but now, each separate
object seemed to echo back my own exhilarating sense
of hope and freedom : indefinite dreams of the far past
and bright anticipations of the future seemed to greet
me at every turn. I should rejoice with more security,
to be sure, had the broad sea rolled between my present
and my former homes, but surely in this lonely spot
I might remain unknown ; and then, I had my
brother here to cheer my solitude with his occasional
visits.

He came that morning ; and 1 have had several inter-
views with him since ; but he is obliged to be very
cautious when and how he comes ; not even his servants
or his best friends must know of his visits to Wildfell —
except on such occasions as a landlord might be ex-
pected to call upon a stranger tenant— lest suspicion

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 379

should be excited against me, whether of the truth or
of some slanderous falsehood.

I have now been here nearly a fortnight, and, but
for one disturbing care, the haunting dread of discovery,
I am comfortably settled in my new home : Frederick
has supplied me with all requisite furniture and painting
materials : Rachel has sold most of my clothes for me,
in a distant town, and procured me a wardrobe more
suitable to my present position : I have a second-hand
piano, and a tolerably well-stocked book-case in my
parlour ; and my other room has assumed quite a
professional, business-like appearance already. I am
working hard to repay my brother for all his expenses
on my account ; not that there is the slightest necessity
for anything of the kind, but it pleases me to do so : I
shall have so much more pleasure in my labour, my
earnings, my frugal fare, and household economy,
when 1 know that I am paying my way honestly, and
that what little I possess is legitimately all my own ;
and that no one suffers for my folly — in a pecuniary
way at least. I shall make him take the last penny I
owe him, if I can possibly effect it without offending
him too deeply. 1 have a few pictures already done,
for I told Rachel to pack up all I had ; and she executed
her commission but too well, for among the rest, she
put up a portrait of Mr Huntingdon that I had painted
in the first year of my marriage. It struck me with
dismay, at the moment, when 1 took it from the box
and beheld those eyes fixed upon me in their mocking
mirth, as if exulting, still, in his power to control my
fate, and deriding my efforts to escape.

How widely different had been my feelings in painting
that portrait to what they now were in looking upon it !
How I had studied and toiled to produce something,
as I thought, worthy of the original ! what mingled
pleasure and dis-atist'urtion I had had in the result
of my labours ! — pleasure for the likeness I had caught ;
dissatisfaction, because 1 had not made it handsome
enough. Now, I see no beauty in it— nothing pleasing
in any part of its expression ; and yet it is far hand-

380 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

somer and far more agreeable — far less repulsive I
should rather say — than he is now ; for these six years
have wrought almost as great a change upon himself as
on my feelings regarding him. The frame, however,
is iiiiiidsome enough ; it will serve for another painting.
The picture itself I have not destroyed, as I had first
intended ; I have put it aside ; not, I think, from any
lurking tenderness for the memory of past affection,
nor yet to remind me of my former folly, hut chiefly
that I may compare my son's features and countenance
with this, as he grows up, and thus be enabled to judge
how much or how little he resembles his father — if I
may be allowed to keep him with me still, and never to
behold that father's face again — a blessing I hardly
dare reckon upon.

It seems Mr Huntingdon is making every exertion to
discover the place of my retreat. He has been in person
to Staningley, seeking redress for his grievances — ex-
pecting to hear of his victims, if not to find them there —
and has told so many lies, and with such unblushing
coolness, that my uncle more than half believes him,
and strongly advocates my going back to him and being
friends again ; but my aunt knows better : she is too
cool and cautious, and too well acquainted with both
my husband's character and my own to be imposed
upon by any specious falsehoods the former could
invent. But he does not want me back ; he wants my
child ; and gives my friends to understand that if I
prefer living apart from him, he will indulge the whim
and let me do so unmolested, and even settle a reason-
able allowance on me, provided I will immediately
deliver up his son. But, Heaven help me ! I am not
going to sell my child for gold, though it were to save
both him and me from starving : it would be better
that he should die with me, than that he should live
with his father.

Frederick showed me a letter he had received from
that gentleman, full of cool impudence such as would
astonish any one who did not know him, but such as, I
am convinced, none would know better how to answer

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 381

than my brother. He gave me no account of his
reply, except to tell me that he had not acknowledged
his acquaintance with my place of refuge, but rather
left it to be inferred that it was quite unknown to him,
by saying it was useless to apply to him, or any other
of my relations, for information on the subject, as it
appeared I had been driven to such extremity, that I
had concealed my retreat even from my best friends ;
but that if he had known it, or should at any time be
made aware of it, most certainly Mr Huntingdon would
be the last person to whom he should communicate the
intelligence ; and that he need not trouble himself to
bargain for the child, for he (Frederick) fancied he
knew enough of his sister to enable him to declare,
that wherever she might be, or however situated, no
consideration would induce her to deliver him up.

30th. — Alas ! my kind neighbours will not let me
alone. By some means they have ferreted me out, and
I have had to sustain visits from three different families,
all more or less bent upon discovering who and what I
am, whence I came, and why I have chosen such a
home as this. Their society is unnecessary to me, to
say the least, and their curiosity annoys and alarms
me : if I gratify it, it may lead to the ruin of my son,
and if I am too mysterious, it will only excite their
suspicions, invite conjecture, and rouse them to greater
exertions — and perhaps be the means of spreading my
fame from parish to parish, till it reach the ears of
some one who will carry it to the lord of Grassdale
Manor.

I shall be expected to return their calls, but if, upon
inquiry, 1 find that any of them live too far away for
Arthur to accompany me, they must expect in vain for
a while, for I cannot bear to leave him, unless it be to
go to church ; and I have not attempted that yet, for
— it may be foolish weakness, but I am under such
constant dread of his being snatched away, that I am
never easy when he is not by my side ; and I fear these
nervous terrors would so entirely disturb my devotions,
that I should obtain no benefit from the attendance.

382 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

I mean, however, to make the experiment next Sunday,
and oblige myself to leave him in charge of Rachel for
a few hours. It will be a hard task, but surely no
imprudence ; and the vicar has been to scold me for
my neglect of the ordinances of religion. I had no
sufficient excuse to offer, and I promised, if all were
well, he should see me in my pew next Sunday ; for I
do not wish to be set down as an infidel ; and, besides,
I know I should derive great comfort and benefit from
an occasional attendance at public worship, if I could
only have faith and fortitude to compose my thoughts
in conformity with the solemn occasion, and forbid
them to be for ever dwelling on my absent child, and
on the dreadful possibility of finding him gone when I
return ; and surely God in His mercy will preserve me
from so severe a trial : for my child's own sake, if not
for mine, He will not suffer him to be torn away.

November 3rd. — I have made some further acquaint-
ance with my neighbours. The fine gentleman, and
beau of the parish and its vicinity (in his own estima-
tion, at least), is a young . . .

* * * * *

*****

Here it ended. The rest was torn away. How cruel
— just when she was going to mention me ! for I could
not doubt it was your humble servant she was about to
mention, though not very favourably of course — I could
tell that, as well by those few words as by the recollec-
tion of her whole aspect and demeanour towards me in
the commencement of our acquaintance. Well, I could
readily forgive her prejudice against me, and her hard
thoughts of our sex in general, when I saw to what
brilliant specimens her experience had been limited.

Respecting me, however, she had long since seen her
error, and perhaps fallen into another in the opposite
extreme ; for if, at first, her opinion of me had been
lower than 1 deserved, I was convinced that now my
deserts were lower than her opinion ; and if the former
part of this continuation had been torn away to avoid
wounding my feelings, perhaps the latter portion had

THE TENANT OF VVILDFELL HALL 383

been removed for fear of ministering too much to my
self-conceit. At any rate, I would have given much to
have seen it all — to have witnessed the gradual change,
and watched the progress of her esteem and friendship
for me, — and whatever warmer feeling she might have
— to have seen how much of love there was in her
regard, and how it had grown upon her in spite of her

virtuous resolutions and strenuous exertions to but

no, I had no right to see it : all this was too sacred for
any eyes but her own, and she had done well to keep
it from me.

CHAPTER XLV

WELL, Halford, what do you think of all this? and
while you read it, did you ever picture to yourself
what my feelings would probably be during its perusal?
Most likely not ; but I am not going to descant upon
them now : I will only make this acknowledgment,
little honourable as it may be to human nature, and
especially to myself : — that the former half of the
narrative was, to me, more painful than the latter ;
not that I was at all insensible to Mrs Huntingdon's
wrongs or unmoved by her sufferings, but, 1 must
confess, I felt a kind of selfish gratification in watch-
ing her husband's gradual decline in her good graces,
and seeing how completely he extinguished all her
affection at last. The effect of the whole, however, in
spite of all my sympathy for her, and my fury against
him, was to relieve my mind of an intolerable burden,
and fill my heart with joy, as if some friend had roused
me from a dreadful nightmare.

It was now near eight o'clock in the morning, for
my candle had expired in the midst of my perusal,
leaving me no alternative but to get another, at the
expense of alarming the house, or to go to bed and
wait the return of daylight. On my mother's account,
I chose the latter ; but how willingly I sought my
pillow, and how much sleep it brought me, I leave you
to imagine.

384 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

At the first appearance of dawn, I rose, and brought
the manuscript to the window, but it was impossible to
read it yet. I devoted half an hour to dressing, and
then returned to it again. Now, with a little difficulty,
I could manage ; and with intense and eager interest,
I devoured the remainder of its contents. When it
was ended, and my transient regret at its abrupt con-
clusion was over, I opened the window and put out my
head to catch the cooling breeze, and imbibe deep
draughts of the pure morning air. A splendid morn-
ing it was ; the half-frozen dew lay thick on the grass,
the swallows were twittering round me, the rooks
cawing, and cows lowing in the distance ; and early
frost and summer sunshine mingled their sweetness in
the air. But I did not think of that : a confusion of
countless thoughts and varied emotions crowded upon
me while I gazed abstractedly on the lovely face of
nature. Soon, however, this chaos of thoughts and
passions cleared away, giving place to two distinct
emotions ; joy unspeakable that my adored Helen was
all I wished to think her — that through the noisome
vapours of the world's aspersions and my own fancied
convictions, her character shone bright, and clear,
and stainless as that sun I could not bear to look on ;
and shame and deep remorse for my own conduct.

Immediately after breakfast, I hurried over to Wild-
fell Hall. Rachel had risen many degrees in my
estimation since yesterday. I was ready to greet her
quite as an old friend ; but every kindly impulse was
checked by the look of cold distrust she cast upon me
on opening the door. The old virgin had constituted
herself the guardian of her lady's honour, I suppose,
and doubtless she saw in me another Mr Hargrave,
only the more dangerous in being more esteemed and
trusted by her mistress.

" Missis can't see any one to-day, sir — she's poorly,"
said she, in answer to my inquiry for Mrs Graham.

" But I must see her, Rachel," said I, placing my
hand on the door to prevent its being shut against
me.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 385

" Indeed, sir, you can't," replied she, settling her
countenance in still more iron frigidity than before.

" Be so good as to announce me."

" It's no manner of use, Mr Markham ; she's poorly,
I tell you."

Just in time to prevent me from committing the
impropriety of taking the citadel by storm, and pushing
forward unannounced, an inner door opened, and little
Arthur appeared with his frolicsome playfellow, the
dog. He seized my hand between both his, and
smilingly drew me forward.

" Mamma says you're to come in, Mr Markham,"
said he, "and I am to go out and play with
Rover."

Rachel retired with a sigh, and I stepped into the
parlour and shut the door. There, before the fire-
place, stood the tall, graceful figure, wasted with many
sorrows. I cast the manuscript on the table, and
looked in her face. Anxious and pale, it was turned
towards me ; her clear, dark eyes were fixed on mine
with a gaze so intensely earnest that they bound me
like a spell.

" Have you looked it over ? " she murmured. The
spell was broken.

" I've read it through," said I, advancing into the
room, — " and I want to know if you'll forgive me— if
you can forgive me ? "

She did not answer, but her eyes glistened, and a
faint red mantled on her lip and cheek. As I
approached, she abruptly turned away, and went to
the window. It was not in anger, I was well assured,
but only to conceal or control her emotion. I there-
fore ventured to follow and stand beside her there, —
but not to speak. She gave me her hand, without
turning her head, and murmured in a voice she strove
in vain to steady, —

"Can you forgive me?"

It might be deemed a breach of trust, I thought, to
convey that lily hand to my lips, so I only gently
pressed it between mv own, and smilingly replied, —

386 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" I hardly can. You should have told me this
before. It shows a want of confidence "

" Oh, no," cried she, eagerly interrupting me, " it
was not that ! It was no want of confidence in you ;
but if I had told you anything of my history, I must
have told you all, in order to excuse my conduct ; and
I might well shrink from such a disclosure, till neces-
sity obliged me to make it. But you forgive me ? — I
have done very, very wrong, I know ; but, as usual, I
have reaped the bitter fruits of my own error, — and
must reap them to the end. "

Bitter, indeed, was the tone of anguish, repressed
by resolute firmness, in which this was spoken. Now,
1 raised her hand to my lips, and fervently kissed it
again and again ; for tears prevented any other reply.
She suffered these wild caresses without resistance or
resentment ; then, suddenly turning from me, she
paced twice or thrice through the room. I knew by
the contraction of her brow, the tight compression of
her lips, and wringing of her hands, that meantime a
violent conflict between reason and passion was silently
passing within. At length she paused before the
empty fire-place, and turning to me, said calmly — if
that might be called calmness, which was so evidently
the result of a violent effort, —

" Now, Gilbert, you must leave me — not this
moment, but soon — and you must never come again."

" Never again, Helen ? just when I love you more
than ever ! "

"For that very reason, if it be so, we should not
meet again. I thought this interview was necessary —
at least, I persuaded myself it was so — that we might
severally ask and receive each other's pardon for the
past ; but there can be no excuse for another. I
shall leave this place, as soon as I have means to seek
another asylum ; but our intercourse must end here.''

" End here \" echoed I ; and approaching the high,
carved chimney-piece, I leant my hand against its
heavy mouldings, and dropped my forehead upon it in
silent, sullen despondency.

THK TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 387

" You must not come again," continued she. There
was a slight tremor in her voice, but I thought her
whole manner was provokingly composed., considering
the dreadful sentence she pronounced. " You must
know why I tell you so," she resumed ; " and you
must see that it is better to part at ouce : — if it be
hard to say adieu for ever, you ought to help me."
She paused. 1 did not answer. " Will you promise
not to come ? — If you won't, and if you do come here
again, you will drive me away before I know where to
find another place of refuge — or how to seek it."

" Helen," said I, turning impatiently towards her,
• • 1 cannot discuss the matter of eternal separation,
calmly and dispassionately as you can do. It is no
question of mere expedience with me ; it is a question
of life and death ! "

She was silent. Her pale lips quivered, and her
lingers trembled with agitation, as she nervously en-
twined them in the hair chain to which was appended
her small gold watch — the only thing of value she had
permitted herself to keep. I had said an unjust and
cruel thing ; but I must needs follow it up with some-
thing worse.

" But, Helen ! " I began in a soft, low tone, not
daring to raise my eyes to her face — " that man is not
your husband : in the sight of Heaven he has forfeited

all claim to " She seized my arm with a grasp of

startling energy.

" Gilbert, don't ! " she cried, in a tone that would
have pierced a heart of adamant. " For God's sake,
don't you attempt these arguments ! No fiend could
torture me like this ! "

" I won't, I won't ! " said I, gently laying my hand
on hers ; almost as much alarmed at her vehemence,
as ashamed of my own misconduct.

" Instead of acting like a true friend," continued
she, breaking from me, and throwing herself into the
old arm chair — "and helping me with all your might
— or rather taking your own part in the struggle of
right against passion — you leave all the burden to me ;—

388 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

and not satisfied with that, you do your utmost to fight

against me — when you know that I " she paused,

and hid her face in her handkerchief.

" Forgive me, Helen ! " pleaded I, " I will never
utter another word on the subject. But may we not
still meet as friends ? "

" It will not do," she replied, mournfully shaking
her head ; and then she raised her eyes to mine, with
a mildly reproachful look that seemed to say, " You
must know that as well as I."

" Then what must we do ? " cried I, passionately.
But immediately I added in a quieter tone — " I'll do
whatever you desire ; only don't say that this meeting
is to be our last."

"And why not? Don't you know that every time
we meet, the thoughts of the final parting will become
more painful? Don't you feel that every interview
makes us dearer to each other than the last ? "

The utterance of this last question was hurried and
low, and the downcast eyes and burning blush too
plainly showed that she, at least, had felt it. It was
scarcely prudent to make such an admission, or to add
— as she presently did — " I have power to bid you go,
now : another time it might be different," — but I was
not base enough to attempt to take advantage of her
candour.

" But we may write," I timidly suggested — " You
will not deny me that consolation ? "

" We can hear of each other through my brother."

" Your brother ! " A pang of remorse and shame
shot through me. She had not heard of the injury
he had sustained at my hands ; and I had not the
courage to tell her. " Your brother will not help
us," I said : " he would have all communion between
us to be entirely at an end."

" And he would be right, I suppose. As a friend
of both, he would wish us both well ; and every friend
would tell us it was our interest, as well as our duty,
to forget each other, though we might not see it our-
selves. But don't be afraid, Gilbert," she added,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 339

smiling sadly at my manifest discomposure, " there is
little chance of my forgetting you. But I did not
mean that Frederick should be the means of trans-
mitting messages between us, only that each might
know, through him, of the other's welfare ; — and more
than this ought not to be ; for you are young, Gilbert,
and you ought to marry — and will some time, though
you may think it impossible now : and though I hardly
can say I wish you to forget me, J know it is right
that you should, both for your own happiness, and
that of your future wife ; — and therefore 1 must and
will wish it," she added resolutely.

"And you are young too, Helen," I boldly replied,
" and when that profligate scoundrel has run through
his career, you will give your hand to me — I'll wait
till then."

But she would not leave me this support. Inde-
pendently of the moral evil of basing our hopes upon
the death of another, who, if unfit for this world, was
at least no less so for the next, and whose amelioration
would thus become our bane and his greatest trans-
gression our greatest benefit, — she maintained it to be
madness: many men of Mr Huntingdon's habits had
lived to a ripe though miserable old age ; — " and if
I," said she, " am young in years I am old in sorrow ;
but even if trouble should fail to kill me before vice
destroys him, think, if he reached but fifty years or
so, would you wait twenty or fifteen — in vague uncer-
tainty and suspense — through all the prime of youth
and manhood — and marry at last a woman faded and
worn as I shall be — without ever having seen me from
this day to that? — You would not," she continued,
interrupting my earnest protestations of unfailing
constancy, — " or if you would you should not. Trust
me, Gilbert ; in this matter I know better than you.
You think me cold and stony hearted, and you may,
but "

" I don't, Helen."

" Well, never mind ; you mitrlit if you would — but
I have not spent my solitude in utter idleness, and 1

390 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

am not speaking now from the impulse of the moment
as you do : I have thought of all these matters again
and again ; I have argued these questions with myself,
and pondered well our past, and present, and future
career ; and, believe me, I have come to the right
conclusion at last. Trust my words rather than your
own feelings, now, and in a few years you will see
that I was right — though at present I hardly can see
it myself," she murmured with a sigh as she rested her
head on her hand. " And don't argue against me any
more : all you can say has been already said by my
own heart and refuted by my reason. It was hard
enough to combat those suggestions as they were
whispered within me ; in your mouth they are ten
times worse, and if you knew how much they pain me
you would cease at once, I know. If you knew my
present feelings, you would even try to relieve them
at the expense of your own."

" I will go — in a minute, if that can relieve you —
and NEVER return ! " said I, with bitter emphasis.
" But, if we may never meet, and never hope to meet
again, is it a crime to exchange our thoughts by letter ?
May not kindred spirits meet, and mingle in com-
munion, whatever be the fate and circumstances of
their earthly tenements ? "

" They may, they may ! " cried she, with a momen-
tary burst of glad enthusiasm. " I thought of that
too, Gilbert, but I feared to mention it, because I
feared you would not understand my views upon the .
subject — I fear it even now — I fear any kind friend ' /
would tell us we are both deluding ourselves with the /
idea of keeping up a spiritual intercourse without hope /
or prospect of anything further — without fostering (
vain regrets and hurtful aspirations, and feeding \
thoughts that should be sternly and pitilessly left J
to perish of inanition "

" Never mind our kind friends : if they can part our
bodies, it is enough ; in God's name, let them not sunder
our souls ! " cried I, in terror lest she should deem it
her duty to deny us this last remaining consolation.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 391

" But no letters can pass between us here." said she,
" without giving fresh food for scandal ; and when I
departed, I had intended that my new abode should be
unknown to you as to the rest of the world ; not that
I should doubt your word if you promised not to visit
me, but I thought you would be more tranquil in your
own mind if you knew you could not do it ; and likely
to find less difficulty in abstracting yourself from me
if you could not picture my situation to your mind.
But listen," said sne, smilingly putting up her finger
to check my impatient reply : " in six months you
shall hear from Frederick precisely where 1 am ; and
if you still retain your wish to write to me, and think
you can maintain a correspondence all thought, all
spirit — such as disembodied souls or unimpassioned
friends, at least, might hold, — write, and I will answer
you."

" Six months ! "

" Yes, to give your present ardour time to cool, and
try the truth and constancy of your soul's love for
mine. And now, enough has been said between us.
Why can't we part at once ? " exclaimed she almost
wildly, after a moment's pause, as she suddenly rose
from her chair with her hands resolutely clasped
together. I thought it was my duty to go without
delay ; and I approached and half extended my hand
as if to take leave — she grasped it in silence. But
this thought of final separation was too intolerable : it
seemed to squeeze the blood out of my heart ; and my
feet were glued to the floor.

" And must we never meet again ? " I murmured, in
the anguish of my soul.

" We shall meet in heaven. Let us think of that,"
said she in a tone of desperate calmness ; but her eyes
glittered wildly, and her face was deadly pale.

" But not as we are now," I could not help replying.
" It gives me little consolation to think I shall next
behold you as a disembodied spirit, or an altered being,
with a frame perfect and glorious, but not like this ! —
and a heart, perhaps, entirely estranged from me."

392 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

No, Gilbert, there is perfect love in heaven ! "
So perfect, I suppose, that it soars above distinc-
tions, and you will have no closer sympathy with me
than with any one of the ten thousand thousand angels
and the innumerable multitude of happy spirits round
us."

" Whatever I am, you will be the same, and, there-
fore, cannot possibly regret it ; and whatever that
change may be, we know it must be for the better."

" But if I am to be so changed that I shall cease to
adore you with my whole heart and soul, and love you
beyond every other creature, I shall not be myself ;
and, though, if ever I win heaven at all, I must, I
know, be infinitely better and happier than I am now,
my earthly nature cannot rejoice in the anticipation of
such beatitude, from which itself and its chief joy must
be excluded."

" Is your love all earthly then ? "

"No, but I am supposing we shall have no more
intimate communion with each other, than with the
rest."

" If so, it will be because we love them more and
not each other less. Increase of love brings increase
of happiness, when it is mutual, and pure as that will
be."

" But can you, Helen, contemplate with delight
this prospect of losing me in a sea of glory ? "

(( I own I cannot ; but we know not that it will be
so ; — and I do know that to regret the exchange of
earthly pleasures for the joys of heaven, is as if the
grovelling caterpillar should lament that it must one
day quit the nibbled leaf to soar aloft and flutter
through the air, roving at will from flower to flower,
sipping sweet honey from their cups, or basking in
their sunny petals. If these little creatures knew how
great a change awaited them, no doubt they would
regret it ; but would not all such sorrow be misplaced ?
And if that illustration will not move you, here is
another: — We are children now ; we feel as children,
and we understand as children ; and when we are told

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 393

that men and women do not play with toys, and that
our companions will one day weary of the trivial
sports and occupations that interest them and us so
deeply now, we cannot help being saddened at the
thoughts of such an alteration, because we cannot con-
ceive that as we grow up, our own minds will become
so enlarged and elevated that we ourselves shall then
regard as trifling those objects and pursuits we now so
fondly cherish, and that, though our companions will
no longer join us in those childish pastimes, they will
drink with us at other fountains of delight, and mingle
their souls with ours in higher aims and nobler occu-
pations beyond our present comprehension, but not
less deeply relished or less truly good for that, while
yet both we and they remain essentially the same indi-
viduals as before. But Gilbert, can you really derive
no consolation from the thought that we may meet
together where there is no more pain and sorrow, no
more striving against sin, and struggling of the spirit
against the flesh ; where both will behold the same
glorious truths, and drink exalted and supreme felicity
from the same fountain of light and goodness — that
Being whom both will worship with the same intensity
of holy ardour, and where pure and happy creatures
both will love with the same divine affection ? If you
cannot, never write to me ! "

" Helen, I can ! if faith would never fail."

"Now, then," exclaimed she, while this hope is
strong within us "

" We will part," I cried. " You shall not have the
pain of another effort to dismiss me : I will go at once ;
but "

I did not put my request in words : she understood
it instinctively, and this time she yielded too — or
rather, there was nothing so deliberate as requesting
or yielding in the matter : there was a sudden impulse
that neither could resist. One moment I stood and
looked into her face, the next I held her to my heart,
and we seemed to grow together in a close embrace
from which no physical or mental force could rend us.

394 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

A whispered " God bless you ! " and " Go — go ! " was
ail she said ; but while she spoke, she held me so fast
that, without violence, I could not have obeyed her.
At length, however, by some heroic effort, we tore
ourselves apart, and I rushed from the house.

I have a confused remembrance of seeing little
Arthur running up the garden walk to meet me, and
of bolting over the wall to avoid him — and subse-
quently running down the steep fields, clearing the
stone fences and hedges as they came in my way, till I
got completely out of sight of the old hall and down to
the bottom of the hill ; and then of long hours spent
in bitter tears and lamentations, and melancholy mus-
ings in the lonely valley, with the eternal music in my
ears, of the west wind rushing through the over-
shadowing trees, and the brook babbling and gurgling
along its stony bed — my eyes, for the most part,
vacantly fixed on the deep, checkered shades rest-
lessly playing over the bright sunny grass at my feet,
where now and then a withered leaf or two would come
dancing to share the revelry, but my heart was away
up the hill in that dark room where she was weeping
desolate and alone — she whom I was not to comfort,
not to see again, till years or suffering had overcome
us both, and torn our spirits from their perishing
abodes of clay.

There was little business done that day, you may be
sure. The farm was abandoned to the labourers, and
the labourers were left to their own devices. But one
duty must be attended to : I had not forgotten my
assault upon Frederick Lawrence ; and 1 must see him
to apologise for the unhappy deed. I would fain have
put it off till the morrow ; but what if he should de-
nounce me to his sister in the meantime? No, no,
I must ask his pardon to-day, and intreat him to be
lenient in his accusation, if the revelation must be
made. 1 deferred it, however, till the evening, when
my spirits were more composed, and when — oh,
wonderful perversity of human nature ! — some faint
germs of indefinite hopes were beginning to rise in my

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 395

mind ; not that I intended to cherish them after all
that had been said on the subject, but there they must
lie for a while, uncrushed though not encouraged, till
I had learnt to live without them.

Arrived at Woodford, the young squire's abode, I
found no little difficulty in obtaining admission to his
presence. The servant that opened the door told me
his master was very ill, and seemed to think it doubt-
ful whether he would be able to see me. I was not
going to be balked however. I waited calmly in the
hall to be announced, but inwardly determined to take
no denial. The message was such as I expected — a
polite intimation that Mr Lawrence could see no one ;
he was feverish and must not be disturbed.

" I shall not disturb him long," said I, " but I must
see him for a moment : it is on business of importance
that I wish to speak to him."

" I'll tell him, sir," said the man. And I advanced
further into the hall and followed him nearly to the
door of the apartment where his master was — for it
seemed he was not in bed. The answer returned, was
that Mr Lawrence hoped I would be so good as to
leave a message or a note with the servant, as he could
attend to no business at present.

" He may as well see me as you," said I ; and,
stepping past the astonished footman, I boldly rapped
at the door, entered, and closed it behind me. The
room was spacious and handsomely furnished — very
comfortably, too, for a bachelor. A clear, red fire was
burning in the polished grate : a superannuated grey-
hound, given up to idleness and good living lay bask-
ing before it on the thick, soft rug, on one corner of
which, beside the sofa, sat a smart young springer,
looking wistfully up in its master's face ; perhaps, ask-
ing permission to snare his couch, or, it might be, only
soliciting a caress from his hand or a kind word from
his lips. The invalid himself looked very interesting
as belay reclining there, in his elegant dressing-gown,
with a silk handkerchief bound across his temples.
His usually pale face was flushed and feverish ; his

396 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

eyes were half closed, until he became sensible of ray
presence — and then he opened them wide enough ; —
one hand was thrown listlessly over the back of the
sofa, and held a small volume with which, apparently,
he had been vainly attempting to beguile the weary
hours. He dropped it, however, in his start of in-
dignant surprise as I advanced into the room and
stood before him on the rug. He raised himself on
his pillows, and gazed upon me with equal degrees of
nervous horror, anger, and amazement depicted on his
countenance.

" Mr Markham, I scarcely expected this ! " he said ;
and the blood left his cheek as he spoke.

" I know you didn't," answered I ; " but be quiet a
minute, and I'll tell you what I came for." Unthink-
ingly I advanced a step or two nearer. He winced at
my approach, with an expression of aversion and
instinctive physical fear anything but conciliatory to
my feelings. I stepped back however.

" Make your story a short one," said he, putting his
hand on the small silver bell that stood on the table
beside him, — " or 1 shall be obliged to call for assist-
ance. I am in no state to bear your brutalities now,
or your presence either." And in truth the moisture
started from his pores and stood on his pale forehead
like dew.

Such a reception was hardly calculated to diminish
the difficulties of my unenviable task. It must be
performed, however, in some fashion : and so I plunged
into it at once, and floundered through it as I could.

"The truth is, Lawrence," said I, "I have not acted
quite correctly towards you of late — especially on this
last occasion ; and I'm come to — in short, to express
my regret for what has been done, and to beg your
pardon. — If you don't choose to grant it," I added
hastily, not liking the aspect of his face, " it's no
matter — only, I've done my duty — that's all."

" It's easily done," replied he, with a faint smile
bordering on a sneer : " to abuse your friend and
knock him on the head, without any assignable cause,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 397

and then tell him the deed was not quite correct, but
it's no matter whether he pardons it or not."

" I forgot to tell you that it was in consequence of a
mistake," muttered I. "I should have made a very
handsome apology, but you provoked me so con-
foundedly with your . Well, I suppose it's my

fault. The fact is, I didn't know that you were Mrs
Graham's brother, and I saw and heard some things
respecting your conduct towards her, which were cal-
culated to awaken unpleasant suspicions, that, allow
me to say, a little candour and confidence on your part
might have removed ; and at last, I chanced to over-
hear a part of a conversation between you and her that
made me think I had a right to hate you."

" And how came you to know that I was her
brother?'' asked he in some anxiety.

" She told me herself. She told me all. She knew
I might be trusted. But you needn't disturb yourself
about that, Mr Lawrence, for I've seen the last of
her ! "

" The last ! is she gone then ? "

• • No, but she has bid adieu to me ; and I have pro-
mised never to go near that house again while she
inhabits it." I could have groaned aloud at the bitter
thoughts awakened by this turn in the discourse. But
1 only clenched my hands and stamped my foot upon
the rug. My companion, however, was evidently
relieved.

•' You have done right ! " he said, in a tone of un-
qualified approbation, while his face brightened into
almost a sunny expression. " And as for the mistake,
I am sorry for both our sakes that it should have
occurred. Perhaps you can forgive my want of can-
dour, and, remember, as some partial mitigation of the
offence, how little encouragement to friendly confidence
you have given me of late."

" Yes, yes, I remember it all : nobody can blame me
more than I blame myself in my own heart — at any
rate, nobody can regret more sincerely than I do the
result of my brutality as you rightly term it."

398 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" Never mind that," said he, faintly smiling ; " let
us forget all unpleasant words on both sides, as well as
deeds, and consign to oblivion everything that we have
cause to regret. Have you any objection to take my
hand— or you'd rather not?" It trembled through
weakness, as he held it out, and dropped before I had
time to catch it and give it a hearty squeeze, which he
had not the strength to return.

"How dry and burning your hand is, Lawrence,"
said I. " You are really ill, and I have made you
worse by all this talk."

" Oh, it is nothing : only a cold got by the rain."

" My doing, too."

"Never mind that — but tell me, did you mention
this affair to my sister ? "

"To confess the truth, I had not the courage to do
so ; but when you tell her, will you just say that 1
deeply regret it, and "

" Oh, never fear ! I shall say nothing against you,
as long as you keep your good resolution of remaining
aloof from her. She has not heard of my illness then,
that you are aware of? "

"I think not."

" I'm glad of that, for I have been all this time tor-
menting myself with the fear that somebody would tell
her I was dying, or desperately ill, and she would be
either distressing herself on account of her inability to
hear from me or do me any good, or perhaps com-
mitting the madness of coming to see me. I must
contrive to let her know something about it, if I can,"
continued he reflectively, "or she will be hearing
some such story. Many would be glad to tell her such
news, just to see how she would take it ; and then she
might expose herself to fresh scandal."

" I wish I had told her," said 1. "If it were not for
my promise, I would tell her now."

" By no means ! I am not dreaming of that ; — but
if I were to write a short note, now — not mentioning
you, Markham, but just giving a slight account of my
illness, by way of excuse for my not coming to see

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 399

her, and to put her on her guard against any exag-
gerated reports she may hear, — and address it in a
disguised hand — would you do me the favour to slip
it into the post-office as you pass ? for I dare not trust
any of the servants in such a case."

Most willingly I consented, and immediately brought
him his desk. There was little need to disguise his
hand, for the poor fellow seemed to have consider-
able difficulty in writing at all, so as to be legible.
When the note was done, I thought it time to retire,
and took leave after asking if there was anything in
the world I could do for him, little or great, in the
way of alleviating his sufferings, and repairing the
injury I had done.

" No," said he, " you have already done much
towards it ; you have done more for me than the
most skilful physician could do ; for you have relieved
my mind of two great burdens — anxiety on my sister's
account, and deep regret upon your own, for I do
believe these two sources of torment have had more
effect in working me up into a fever, than anything
else ; and I am persuaded I shall soon recover now.
There is one more thing you can do for me, and that
is, come and see me now and then — for you see I am
very lonely here, and I promise your entrance shall
not be disputed again."

I engaged to do so, and departed with a cordial
pressure of the hand. I posted the letter on my
way home, most manfully resisting the temptation of
dropping in a word from myself at the same time.

CHAPTER XLVI

I KK.LT strongly tempted, at times, to enlighten my
mother and sister on the real character and circum-
stances of the persecuted tenant of Wildfell Hall, and
at first I greatly regretted having omitted to ask that
lady's permission to do so ; but, on due reflection, I
considered that if it were known to them, it could not

400 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

long remain a secret to the Millwards and Wilsons,
and such was my present appreciation of Eliza Mill-
ward's disposition, that, if once she got a clue to the
story, I should fear she would soon find means to
enlighten Mr Huntingdon upon the place of his wife's
retreat. I would therefore wait patiently till these
weary six months were over, and then, when the
fugitive had found another home, and I was permitted
to write to her, I would beg to be allowed to clear her
name from these vile calumnies : at present I must
content myself with simply asserting that I knew
them to be false, and would prove it some day, to
the shame of those who slandered her. I don't
think anybody believed me, but everybody soon
learned to avoid insinuating a word against her, or
even mentioning her name in my presence. They
thought I was so madly infatuated by the seductions
of that unhappy lady that I was determined to support
her in the very face of reason ; and meantime I grew
insupportably morose and misanthropical from the idea
that every one I met was harbouring unworthy thoughts
of the supposed Mrs Graham, and would express them
if he dared. My poor mother was quite distressed
about me ; but I couldn't help it — at least I thought
I could not, though sometimes I felt a pang of remorse
for my undutiful conduct to her, and made an effort
to amend, attended with some partial success ; and
indeed I was generally more humanized in my de-
meanour to her than to any one else, Mr Lawrence
excepted. Rose and Fergus usually shunned my pre-
sence ; and it was well they did, for I was not fit
company for them, nor they for me, under the present
circumstances.

Mrs Huntingdon did not leave Wildfell Hall till
above two months after our farewell interview.
During that time she never appeared at church, and
I never went near the house : I only knew she was still
there by her brother's brief answers to my many and
varied inquiries respecting her. I was a very constant
and attentive visitor to him throughout the whole

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 401

period of his illness and convalescence ; not only
from the interest I took in his recovery, and my
desire to cheer him up and make the utmost possible
amends for my former ' ' brutality," but from my
growing attachment to himself, and the increasing
pleasure 1 found in his society — partly from his
increased cordiality to me, but chiefly on account of
his close connection, both in blood and in affection,
with my adored Helen. I loved him for it better than
I liked to express ; and 1 took a secret delight in
pressing those slender white fingers, so marvellously
like her own, considering he was not a woman, and in
watching the passing changes in his fair pale features,
and observing the intonations of his voice, detecting
resemblances which I wondered had never struck me
before. He provoked me at times, indeed, by his
evident reluctance to talk to me about his sister,
though I did not question the friendliness of his
motives in wishing to discourage my remembrance
of her.

His recovery was not quite so rapid as he had ex-
pected it to be : he was not able to mount his pony
till a fortnight after the date of our reconciliation ;
and the first use he made of his returning strength,
was to ride over by night to Wildfell Hall, to see
his sister. It was a hazardous enterprise both for him
and for her, but he thought it necessary to consult with
her on the subject of her projected departure, if not to
calm her apprehensions respecting his health, and the
worst result was a slight relapse of his illness, for no
one knew of the visit but the inmates of the Old Hall,
except myself; and I believe it had not been his inten-
tion to mention it to me, for when I came to see him
the next day, and observed he was not so well as he
ou^ht to have been, he merely said he had caught cold
by being out too late in the evening.

" You'll never be able to see your sister, if you don't
take care of yourself," said I, a little provoked at the
circumstance on her account, instead of commiserating
him.

402 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" I've seen her already," said he, quietly.

" You've seen her ! " cried I, in astonishment.

"Yes." And then he told me what considerations
had impelled him to make the venture, and with what
precautions he had made it.

" And how was she ? " I eagerly asked.

" As usual," was the brief though sad reply.

" As usual — that is, far from happy and far trom
strong.""

" She is not positively ill," returned he ; " and she
will recover her spirits in a while, I have no doubt —
but so many trials have been almost too much for her.
How threatening those clouds look," continued he,
turning towards the window. " We shall have thunder
showers before night, I imagine, and they are just in
the midst of stacking my corn. Have you got yours all
in yet ? "

"No. And Lawrence, did she — did your sister
mention me ? "

" She asked if I had seen you lately."

" And what else did she say? "

" I cannot tell you all she said," replied he with a
slight smile, " for we talked a good deal, though my-
stay was but short ; but our conversation was chiefly on
the subject of her intended departure, which I begged
her to delay till I was better able to assist her in her
search after another home."

" But did she say no more about me ? "

" She did not say much about you, Markham. I
should not have encouraged her to do so, had she been
inclined ; but happily she was not : she only asked a
few questions concerning you, and seemed satisfied with
my brief answers, wherein she showed herself wiser
than her friend ; and I may tell you, too, that she
seemed to be far more anxious lest you should think
too much of her, than lest you should forget her."

" She was right."

" But I fear your anxiety is quite the other way
respecting her."

" No, it is not : I wish her to be happy ; but I don't

THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL 403

wish her to forget me altogether. She knows it is
impossible that I should forget her ; and she is right
to wish me not to remember her too well. I should
not desire her to regret me too deeply ; but I can
scarcely imagine she will make herself very unhappy
about me, because 1 know I am not worthy of it, except
in my appreciation of her."

" You are neither of you worthy of a broken heart, —
nor of all the sighs, and tears, and sorrowful thoughts
that have been, and I fear will be, wasted upon you
both ; but, at present, each has a more exalted opinion
of the other than, I fear, he or she deserves ; and my
sister's feelings are naturally full as keen as yours, and
I believe more constant ; but she has the good sense
and fortitude to strive against them in this particular ;
and I trust she will not rest till she has entirely weaned
her thoughts " he hesitated.

" From me," said I.

" And I wish you would make the like exertions,"
continued he.

" Did she tell you that that was her intention ?"

" No ; the question was not broached between us :
there was no necessity for it, for I had no doubt that
such was her determination."

" To forget me ! "

" Yes, Markham ! Why not ? "

" Oh, well," was my only audible reply ; but I
internally answered, — " No, Lawrence, you're wrong
there, she is not determined to forget me. It would
be wrong to forget one so deeply and fondly devoted
to her, who can so thoroughly appreciate her excel-
lences, and sympathise with all her thoughts, as I can
do, and it would be wrong in me to forget so excellent
and divine a piece of God's creation as she, when I have
once so truly loved and known her." But I said no
more to him on that subject. I instantly started a new
topic of conversation, and soon took leave of my com-
panion, with a feeling of less cordiality towards him
than usual. Perhaps I had no right to be annoyed at
him, but I was so nevertheless.

404 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

In little more than a week after this, I met him
returning from a visit to the Wilson's ; and I now
resolved to do him a good turn, though at the expense
of his feelings, and, perhaps, at the risk of incurring
that displeasure which is so commonly the reward of
those who give disagreeable information, or tender
their advice unasked. In this, believe me, I was
actuated by no motives of revenge for the occasional
annoyances I had lately sustained from him, — nor yet
by any feeling of malevolent enmity towards Miss
Wilson, but purely by the fact that I could not endure
that such a woman should be Mrs Huntingdon's sister,
and that, as well for his own sake as for hers, I could
not bear to think of his being deceived into a union
with one so unworthy of him, and so utterly unfitted
to be the partner of his quiet home, and the companion
of his life. He had had uncomfortable suspicions on
that head himself, I imagined ; but such was his inex-
perience, and such were the lady's powers of attraction,
and her skill in bringing them to bear upon his young
imagination, that they had not disturbed him long ;
and I believe the only effectual causes of the vacillat-
ing indecision that had preserved him hitherto from
making an actual declaration of love, was the con-
sideration of her connections, and especially of her
mother, whom he could not abide. Had they lived at
a distance, he might have surmounted the objection,
but within two or three miles of Woodford, it was
really no light matter.

" You've been to call on the Wilsons, Lawrence,"
said I, as I walked beside his pony.

" Yes," replied he, slightly averting his face : " I
thought it but civil to take the first opportunity of
returning their kind attentions, since they have been
so very particular and constant in their inquiries,
throughout the whole course of my illness."

"It's all Miss Wilson's doing."

' ' And if it is," returned he, with a very perceptible
blush, "is that any reason why I should not make a
suitable acknowledgment ? "

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 405

" It is a reason why you should not make the
acknowledgment she looks for."

" Let us drop that subject if you please," said he, in
evident displeasure.

"No, Lawrence, with your leave we'll continue it a
while longer ; and I'll tell you something, now we're
about it, which you may believe or not as you choose —
only please to remember that it is not my custom to
speak falsely, and that in this case, I can have no motive
for misrepresenting the truth "

" Well, Markham ! what now ? "

" Miss Wilson hates your sister. It may be natural
enough that, in her ignorance of the relationship, she
should feel some degree of enmity against her, but no
good or amiable woman would be capable of evincing
that bitter, cold-blooded, designing malice towards a
fancied rival that I have observed in her."

" Markham ! ! "

" Yes — and it is my belief that Eliza Millward and
she, if not the very originators of the slanderous
reports that have been propagated, were designedly
the encouragers and chief disseminators of them. She
was not desirous to mix up your name in the matter,
of course, but her delight was, and still is, to blacken
your sister's character to the utmost of her power,
without risking too greatly the exposure of her own
malevolence ! "

"I cannot believe it," interrupted my companion,
his face burning with indignation.

" Well, as I cannot prove it, I must content myself
with asserting that it is so to the best of my belief; but
as you would not willingly marry Miss Wilson if it
were so, you will do well to be cautious, till you have
proved it to be otherwise."

" I never told you, Markham, that I intended to
marry Mi>s Wilson," said he, proudly.

" No, but whether you do or not, she intends to
marry you."

" Did she tell you so ? "

" No. but "

406 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" Then you have no right to make such an assertion
respecting her." He slightly quickened his pony's
pace, but I laid my hand on its mane, determined he
should not leave me yet.

<e Wait a moment, Lawrence, and let me explain
myself ; and don't be so very — I don't know what to
call it — inaccessible as you are. — I know what you
think of Jane Wilson ; and I believe I know how far
you are mistaken in your opinion : you think she is
singularly charming, elegant, sensible, and refined :
you are not aware that she is selfish, cold-hearted,
ambitious, artful, shallow-minded "

" Enough, Markham, enough."

" No ; let me finish : — you don't know that if you
married her, your home would be rayless and comfort-
less ; and it would break your heart at last to find
yourself united to one so wholly incapable of sharing
your tastes, feelings, and ideas — so utterly destitute of
sensibility, good feeling, and true nobility of soul."

" Have you done ? " asked my companion quietly.

" Yes ; — I know you hate me for my impertinence,
but I don't care if it only conduces to preserve you from
that fatal mistake."

" Well ! " returned he, with a rather wintry smile —
" I'm glad you have overcome or forgotten your own
afflictions, so far as to be able to study so deeply the
affairs of others, and trouble your head, so unneces-
sarily, about the fancied or possible calamities of their
future life."

We parted — somewhat coldly again ; but still we did
not cease to be friends ; and my well-meant warning,
though it might have been more judiciously delivered,
as well as more thankfully received, was not wholly
unproductive of the desired effect : his visit to the
Wilsons was not repeated, and though, in our subse-
quent interviews, he never mentioned her name to me,
nor I to him, — I have reason to believe he pondered
my words in his mind, eagerly though covertly sought
information respecting the fair lady from other quar-
ters, secretly compared my character of her with what

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 407

he had himself observed and what he heard from
others, and finally came to the conclusion that, all
things considered, she had much better remain Miss
Wilson of Ryecote Farm, than be transmuted into
Mrs Lawrence of Woodford Hall. I believe, too,
that he soon learned to contemplate with secret amaze-
ment his former predilection, and to congratulate him-
self on the lucky escape he had made ; but he never
confessed it to me, or hinted one word of acknowledg-
ment for the part I had had in his deliverance — but
this was not surprising to any one that knew him as
Idid.

As for Jane Wilson, she, of course, was disappointed
and embittered by the sudden cold neglect and ulti-
mate desertion of her former admirer. Had I done
wrong to blight her cherished hopes ? I think not ;
and certainly my conscience has never accused me,
from that day to this, of any evil design in the matter.

CHAPTER XLVII

ONE morning, about the beginning of November,
while I was inditing some business letters, shortly
after breakfast, Eliza Millward came to call upon my
sister. Rose had neither the discrimination nor the
virulence to regard the little demon as I did, and they
still preserved their former intimacy. At the moment
of her arrival, however, there was no one in the room
but Fergus and myself, my mother and sister beinj?
both of them absent, "on household cares intent" ;
but I was not going to lay myself out for her amuse-
ment, whoever else might so incline : I merely hon-
oured her with a careless salutation and a few words
of course, and then went on with my writing, leaving
my brother to be more polite if he chose. But she
wanted to tease me.

'•" What a 'pleasure it is to find you at home, Mr
Markham ! " said she, with a disingenuously malicious

408 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

smile. " I so seldom see you now, for you never come
to the vicarage. Papa is quite offended I can tell
you," she added playfully, looking into my face with
an impertinent laugh, as she seated herself, half beside
and half before my desk, off the corner of the table.

" I have had a good deal to do of late," said I, with-
out looking up from my letter.

" Have you indeed ! Somebody said you had been
strangely neglecting your business these last few
months."

" Somebody said wrong, for, these last two months
especially, I have been particularly plodding and
diligent. *'

"Ah ! Well, there's nothing like active employ-
ment, I suppose, to console the afflicted ; — and, excuse
me, Mr Markham, but you look so very far from well,
and have been, by all accounts, so moody and thought-
ful of late, — I could almost think you have some secret
care preying on your spirits. Formerly," said she
timidly, " I could have ventured to ask you what it
was, and what I could do to comfort you : I dare not
do it now."

" You're very kind, Miss Eliza. When I think you
can do anything to comfort me, I'll make bold to tell
you."

" Pray do ! — I suppose I mayn't guess what it is that
troubles you ? "

" There's no necessity, for I'll tell you plainly.
The thing that troubles me the most at present, is a
young lady sitting at my elbow, and preventing me
from finishing my letter, and, thereafter, repairing to
my daily business."

Before she could reply to this ungallant speech,
Rose entered the room ; and Miss Eliza rising to greet
her, they both seated themselves near the n're, where
that idle lad, Fergus, was standing, leaning his
shoulder against the corner of the chimney-piece,
with his legs crossed and his hands in his breeches
pockets.

" Now, Rose, I'll tell you a piece of news — I hope

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 40U

you've not heard it before, for good, bad, or indifferent,
one always likes to be the first to tell — It's about that
sad Mrs Graham "

" Hush — sh — sh ! " whispered Fergus, in a tone of
solemn import. " ' We never mention her ; her name
is never heard.' " And glancing up, I caught him with
his eye askance on me, and his finger pointed to his
forehead ; then, winking at the young lady with a
doleful shake of the head, he whispered — " a mono-
mania— but don't mention it — all right but that."

" I should be sorry to injure any one's feelings,"
returned she, speaking below her breath ; " another
time, perhaps."

" Speak out, Miss Eliza ! " said I, not deigning to
notice the other's buffooneries, " you needn't fear to
say anything in my presence."

" Well," answered she, " perhaps you know already
that Mrs Graham's husband is not really dead, and
that she had run away from him?" I started, and
felt my face glow ; but I bent it over my letter, and
went on folding it up as she proceeded. " But perhaps
you did not know that she is now gone back to him
again, and that a perfect reconciliation has taken place
between them? Only think," she continued, turning
to the confounded Rose, " what a fool the man must
be!"

" And who gave you this piece of intelligence, Miss
Eliza ? " said I, interrupting my sister's exclamations.

" I had it from a very authentic source, sir."

" From whom, may I ask ? "

" From one of the servants at Woodford."

" Oh ! I was not aware that you were on such
intimate terms with Mr Lawrence's household."

" It was not from the man himself, that I heard it ;
but he told it in confidence to our maid Sarah, and
Sarah told it to me."

" In confidence, I suppose ; and you tell it in con-
fidence to us ; but I can tell you that it is but a lame
story after all, and scarcely one-half of it true."

While I spoke, I completed the sealing and direction

410 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

of my letters, with a somewhat unsteady hand, in
spite of all my efforts to retain composure, and in
spite of my firm conviction that the story was a lame
one — that the supposed Mrs Graham, most certainly,
had not voluntarily gone back to her husband, or
dreamt of a reconciliation. Most likely she was gone
away, and the tale-bearing servant, not knowing what
was become of her, had conjectured that such was the
case, and our fair visitor had detailed it as a certainty,
delighted with such an opportunity of tormenting me.
But it was possible — barely possible, that some one
might have betrayed her, and she had been taken away
by force. Determined to know the worst, I hastily
pocketed my two letters, and muttering something
about being too late for the post, left the room, rushed
into the yard, and vociferously called for my horse.
No one being there, I dragged him out of the stable
myself, strapped the saddle on to his back and the
bridle on to his head, mounted, and speedily galloped
away to Woodford. I found its owner pensively strol-
ling in the grounds.

" Is your sister gone ? " were my first words as I
grasped his hand, instead of the usual inquiry after
his health.

" Yes, she's gone," was his answer, so calmly spoken,
that my terror was at once removed.

"I suppose I mayn't know where she is?" said I,
as I dismounted and relinquished my horse to the
gardener, who, being the only servant within call, had
been summoned by his master, from his employment
of raking up the dead leaves on the lawn, to take him
to the stables.

My companion gravely took my arm, and leading
me away to the garden, thus answered my question : —

' She is at Grassdale Manor, in shire. "

' Where ? " cried I, with a convulsive start.

'At Grassdale Manor."

1 How was it ? " I gasped. " Who betrayed her ? "

( She went of her own accord. "

1 Impossible, Lawrence ! She could not be so

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 411

frantic ! " exclaimed I, vehemently grasping his arm,
as if to force him to unsay those hateful words."

" She did," persisted he in the same grave collected
manner as before ; " and not without reason," he
continued, gently disengaging himself from my grasp :
" Mr Huntingdon is ill."

" And so she went to nurse him ? "

" Yes."

" Fool ! " I could not help exclaiming — and Law-
reuce looked up with a rather reproachful glance.
" Is he dying, then ? "

" I think not, Markham."

" And how many more nurses has he ? — how many
ladies are there besides, to take care of him ? "

" None : he was alone, or she would not have gone."

" Oh, confound it ! this is intolerable ! "

" What is ? that he should be alone ?"

I attempted no reply, for I was not sure that this
circumstance did not partly conduce to my distrac-
tion. I therefore continued to pace the walk in silent
anguish, with my hand pressed to my forehead ; then
suddenly pausing and turning to my companion, I
impatiently exclaimed, —

"Why did she take this infatuated step? What
fiend persuaded her to it ? "

" Nothing persuaded her but her own sense of
duty."

" Humbug ! "

" I was half inclined to say so myself, Markham, at
first. 1 assure you it was not by my advice that she
went, for I detest that man as fervently as you can do
— except, indeed, that his reformation would give me
much greater pleasure than his death ; but all I did
was to inform her of the circumstance of his illness
(the consequence of a fall from his horse in hunting),
and to tell her that that unhappy person, Miss Myers,
had left him some time ago."

" It was ill-done ! Now, when he finds the con-
venience of her presence, he will make all manner of
lying speeches and false, fair promises for the future,

412 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

and she will believe him, and then her condition will
be ten times worse and ten times more irremediable
than before."

" There does not appear to be much ground for such
apprehensions at present," said he, producing a letter
from his pocket : " from the account I received this
morning, 1 should say "

It was her writing ! By an irresistible impulse, I
held out my hand, and the words — <e Let me see it,"
involuntarily passed my lips. He was evidently re-
luctant to grant the request, but while he hesitated, I
snatched it from his hand. Recollecting myself, how-
ever, the minute after, I offered to restore it.

" Here, take it," said I, " if you don't want me to
read it."

" No," replied he, ce you may read it if you like."

I read it, and so may you.

Grassdale, Nov. 4th.
DEAR FREDERICK,

I know you will be anxious to hear from me, and
I will tell you all I can. Mr Huntingdon is very ill,
but not dying, or in any immediate danger ; and he is
rather better at present than he was when I came.
I found the house in sad confusion : Mrs Greaves,
Benson, every decent servant had left, and those that
were come to supply their places were a negligent, dis-
orderly set, to say no worse — I must change them
again, if I stay. A professional nurse, a grim, hard
old woman, had been hired to attend the wretched
invalid. He suffers much, and has no fortitude to
bear him through. The immediate injuries he sus-
tained from the accident, however, were not very
severe, and would, as the doctor says, have been but
trifling to a man of temperate habits, but with him it
is very different. On the night of my arrival, when I
first entered his room, he was lying in a kind of half
delirium. He did not notice me till I spoke, and then
he mistook me tor another.

"Is it you, Alice, come again?" he murmured.
"What did you leave me for?"

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 413

"It is I, Arthur — it is Helen, your wife/' I replied.

" My wife ! " said he, with a start. " For heaven's
sake, don't mention her ! — I have none. Devil take
her," he cried, a moment after, " and you too ! What
did you do it for?"

I said no more ; but observing that he kept gazing
towards the foot of the bed, I went and sat there,
placing the light so as to shine full upon me, for I
thought he might be dying, and I wanted him to know
me. For a long time he lay silently looking upon me,
first with a vacant stare, then with a fixed gaze of
strange growing intensity. At last he startled me by
suddenly raising himself on his elbow and demanding
in a horrified whisper, with his eyes still fixed upon
me,— "Who is it?"

"It is Helen Huntingdon," said I, quietly rising
at the same time, and removing to a less conspicuous
position.

" 1 must be going mad," cried he, " or something —
delirious perhaps ; but leave me, whoever you are — I
can't bear that white face, and those eyes ; for God's
sake go, and send me somebody else, that doesn't look
like that ! "

I went at once, and sent the hired nurse ; but next
morning I ventured to enter his chamber again ; and,
taking the nurse's place by his bed-side, I watched him
and waited on him for several hours, showing myself
as little as possible, and only speaking when necessary,
and then not above my breath. At first he addressed
me as the nurse, but, on my crossing the room to draw
up the window-blinds, in obedience to his directions,
he said, —

" No, it isn't nurse ; it's Alice. Stay with me — do !
that old hag will be the death of me."

" I mean to stay with you," said I. And after that
he would call me Alice, or some other name almost
equally repugnant to my feelings. I forced myself to
endure it for a while, fearing a contradiction might
disturb him too much, but when, having asked for a
glass of water, while I held it to his lips, he murmured

414 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

''Thanks, dearest!" I could not help distinctly ob-
serving— " You would not say so if you knew me,"
intending to follow that up with another declaration of
my identity, but he merely muttered an incoherent
reply, so I dropped it again, till some time after,
when, as I was bathing his forehead and temples with
vinegar and water to relieve the heat and pain in his
head, he observed — after looking earnestly upon me
for some minutes —

1 ' I have such strange fancies — I can't get rid of
them, and they won't let me rest ; and the most sin-
gular and pertinacious of them all is your face and
voice ; they seem just like hers. I could swear at this
moment, that she was by my side."

"She is," said I.

" That seems comfortable," continued he, without
noticing my words ; " and while you do it, the other
fancies fade away — but this only strengthens. Go on —
go on, till it vanishes too. I can't stand such a mania
as this ; it would kill me ! "

" It never will vanish," said I, distinctly, "for it is
the truth."

" The truth ! " he cried, starting as if an asp had
stung him. " You don't mean to say that you are
really she ! "

" 1 do ; but you needn't shrink away from me, as if
I were your greatest enemy : I am come to take care
of you, and do what none of them would do."

' ' For God's sake, don't torment me now ! " cried he
in pitiable agitation ; and then he began to mutter
bitter curses against me, or the evil fortune that had
brought me there ; while I put down the sponge and
basin, and resumed my seat at the bed-side.

" Where are they?" said he — "have they all left
me — servants and all ? "

" There are servants within call if you want them ;
but you had better lie down and be quiet : none of
them could or would attend you as carefully as I shall
do."

" J can't understand it at all," said he, iq bewildered

THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL 415

perplexity. " Was it a dream that " and he

covered his eyes with his hands, as if trying to unravel
the mystery.

"No Arthur, it was not a dream, that your conduct
was such as to oblige me to leave you ; but I heard
that you were ill and alone, and I am come back to
nurse you. You need not fear to trust me : tell me
all your wants, and I will try to satisfy them. There
is no one else to care for you ; and I shall not upbraid
you now."

"Oh ! I see," said he, with a bitter smile, " it's an
act of Christian charity, whereby you hope to gain a
higher seat in heaven for yourself, and scoop a deeper
pit in hell for me."

" No ; I came to offer you that comfort and assist-
ance your situation required ; and if I could benefit
your soul as well as your body, and awaken some sense
of contrition and —

" Oh, yes ; if you could overwhelm me with remorse
and confusion of face, now's the time. What have
you done with my son ! "

" He is well, and you may see him some time, if you
will compose yourself, but not now."

"Where is he?"

" He is safe."

" Is he here ? "

" Wherever he is, you will not see him till you have
promised to leave him entirely under my care and pro-
tection, and to let me take him away whenever and
wherever I please, if I should hereafter judge it neces-
sary to remove him again. But we will talk of that
to-morrow : you must be quiet now."

" No, let me see him now. I promise, if it must be
so."

" No "

" I swear it, as God is in heaven .l Now then, let
me see him."

" But I cannot trust your oaths and promises ; I
must have a written agreement, and you must sign it
in presence of a witness— but not to-day, to-morrow,"

416 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" No, to-day — now," persisted he : and he was in
such a state of feverish excitement, and so bent upon
the immediate gratification of his wish, that I thought
it better to grant it at once, as I saw he would not
rest till I did. But I was determined my son's interest
should not be forgotten ; and having clearly written
out the promise I wished Mr Huntingdon to give upon
a slip of paper, I deliberately read it over to him, and
made him sign it in the presence of Rachel. He
begged I would not insist upon this : it was a useless
exposure of my want of faith in his word to the
servant. I told him I was sorry, but since he had
forfeited my confidence he must take the consequence.
He next pleaded inability to hold the pen. " Then we
must wait until you can hold it," said J. Upon which
he said he would try ; but then he could not see to
write. I placed my finger where the signature was to
be, and told him he might write his name in the dark,
if he only knew where to put it. But he had not
power to form the letters. " In that case, you must
be too ill to see the child," said I, and finding me
inexorable, he at length managed to ratify the agree-
ment ; and I bade Rachel send the boy.

All this may strike you as harsh, but I felt I must
not lose my present advantage, and my son's future
welfare should not be sacrificed to any mistaken
tenderness for this man's feelings. Little Arthur had
not forgotten his father, but thirteen months of
absence, during which he had seldom been permitted
to hear a word about him, or hardly to whisper his
name, had rendered him somewhat shy ; and when he
was ushered into the darkened room where the sick
man lay, so altered from his former self, with fiercely-
flushed face and wildly-gleaming eyes — he instinc-
tively clung to me and stood looking on his father
with a countenance expressive of far more awe than
pleasure.

"Come here, Arthur," said the latter, extending
his hand towards him. The child went, and timidly
touched that burning hand, but almost started in

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 417

alarm, when his father suddenly clutched his arm and
drew him nearer to his side.

" Do you know me ? " asked Mr Huntingdon, in-
tentlv perusing his features.

" Yes."

"Who am I?"

" Papa."

*' Are you glad to see me ? "

" Yes."

" You're not ! " replied the disappointed parent, re-
laxing his hold, and darting a vindictive glance at me.

Arthur, thus released, crept back to me, and pnt his
hand in mine. His father swore I had made the child
hate him, and abused and cursed me bitterly. The
instant he began I sent our son out of the room ;
and when he paused to breathe, I calmly assured him
that he was entirely mistaken ; I had never once
attempted to prejudice his child against him.

"I did indeed desire him to forget you," I said,
" and especially to forget the lessons you taught him ;
and for that cause, and to lessen the danger of dis-
covery, I own I have generally discouraged his inclina-
tion to talk about you ; but no one can blame me for
that, I think."

The invalid only replied by groaning aloud, and
rolling his head on a pillow in a paroxysm of
impatience.

" I am in hell, already," cried he. " This cursed
thirst is burning my heart to ashes ! Will no-
body "

Before he could finish the sentence, I had poured
out a glass of some acidulated, cooling drink that was
on the table, and brought it to him. He drank it
greedily, but muttered, as I took away the glass, —

"i suppose you're heaping coals of fire on my head,
you think."

Not noticing this speech, I aaked if there was any-
thing else I could do for him.

"Yes; I'll give you another opportunity of showing
your Christian magnanimity," sneered he : — " set my
2 D

418 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

pillow straight, — and these confounded bed-clothes."
I did so. "There — now get me another glass of that
slop." I complied. "This is delightful! isn't it?"
said he, with a malicious grin, as I held it to
his lips — " you never hoped for such a glorious
opportunity?"

"Now, shall I stay with you? " said I, as I replaced
the glass on the table — " or will you be more quiet if
I go and send the nurse ? "

" Oh, yes, you're wondrous gentle and obliging ! —
But you've driven me mad with it all ! " responded he,
with an impatient toss.

"I'll leave you, then," said I ; and I withdrew, and
did not trouble him with my presence again that day,
except for a minute or two at a time, just to see how
he was and what he wanted.

Next morning, the doctor ordered him to be bled ;
and after that, he was more subdued and tranquil. I
passed half the day in his room at different intervals.
My presence did not appear to agitate or irritate him
as before, and he accepted my services quietly, with-
out any bitter remarks — indeed he scarcely spoke at
all, except to make known his wants, and hardly
then. But on the morrow — that is, to-day — in pro-
portion as he recovered from the state of exhaustion
and stupefaction — his ill-nature seemed to revive.

"Oh, this sweet revenge?" cried he, when I had
been doing all I could to make him comfortable and to
remedy the carelessness of his nurse. " And you can
enjoy it with such a quiet conscience too, because it's
all in the way of duty."

" It is well for me that I am doing my duty," said I,
with a bitterness I could not repress, " for it is the
only comfort I have ; and the satisfaction of my own
conscience, it seems, is the only reward I need look
for ! "

He looked rather surprised at the earnestness of my
manner.

" What reward did you look for?" he asked.

" You will think me a liar if I tell you — but I did

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 419

hope to benefit you : as well to better your mind, as
to alleviate your present sufferings ; but it appears I
am to do neither — your own bad spirit will not let
me. As far as you are concerned, I have sacrificed
my own feelings, and all the little earthly comfort
that was left me, to no purpose ; — and every little
thing I do for you is ascribed to self-righteous malice
and refined revenge I"

" It's all very fine, I dare say," said he, eyeing me
with stupid amazement ; " and of course I ought to be
melted to tears of penitence and admiration at the
sight of so much generosity and superhuman goodness,
— but you see I can't manage it. However, pray do
me all the good you can, if you do really find any
pleasure in it ; for you perceive I am almost as miser-
able just now as you need wish to see me. Since you
came, I confess, I have had better attendance than
before, for these wretches neglected me shamefully,
and all my old friends seem to have fairly forsaken
me. I've had a dreadful time of it, I assure you : I
sometimes thought I should have died — do you think
there's any chance ? "

" There's always a chance of death ; and it is always
well to live with such a chance in view."

" Yes, yes — but do you think there's any likelihood
that this illness will have a fatal termination?"

" I cannot tell ; but, supposing it should, how are
you prepared to meet the event? '

" Why the doctor told me I wasn't to think about it,
for I was sure to get better, if I stuck to his regimen
and prescriptions."

" I hope you may, Arthur ; but neither the doctor
nor I can speak with certainty in such a case ; there is
internal injury, and it is difficult to know to what
extent."

" There now ! you want to scare me to death."

" No ; but I don't want to lull you to false security.
If a consciousness of the uncertainty of life can dispose
you to serious and useful thoughts, I would not deprive
you of the benefit of such reflections, whether you do

420 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

eventually recover or not. Does the idea of death
appal you very much ? "

" It's just the only thing I can't bear to think of ; so
if you've any "

" But it must come some time," interrupted I ; " and
if it be years hence, it will as certainly overtake you as
if it came to-day, — and no doubt be as unwelcome then
as now, unless you "

" Oh, hang it ! don't torment me with your preach-
ments now, unless you want to kill me outright — I
can't stand it, I tell you, I've sufferings enough without
that. If you think there's danger, save me from it ;
and then, in gratitude, I'll hear whatever you like
to say."

I accordingly dropped the unwelcome topic. And
now, Frederick, I think I may bring my letter to a
close. From these details you may form your own
judgment of the state of my patient, and of my own
position and future prospects. Let me hear from you
soon, and I will write again to tell you how we get on ;
but now that my presence is tolerated, and even re-
quired, in the sick-room, I shall have but little time to
spare between my husband and my son, — for I must
not entirely neglect the latter : it would not do to keep
him always with Rachel, and I dare not leave him for
a moment with any of the other servants, or suffer him
to be alone, lest he should meet them. If his father
get worse, I shall ask Esther Hargrave to take charge
of him for a time, till I have re-organized the house-
hold at least ; but I greatly prefer keeping him under
my own eye.

I find myself in rather a singular position : I am
exerting my utmost endeavours to promote the recovery
and reformation of my husband, and if I succeed, what
shall I do? My duty, of course,— but how? — No
matter ; I can perform the task that is before me now,
and God will give me strength to do whatever he
requires hereafter. — Good bye, dear Frederick.

HELEN HUNTINGDON.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 421

"What do you think of it?" said Lawrence, as I
silently refolded the letter.

" It seems to me," returned I, " that she is casting
her pearls before swine. May they be satisfied with
trampling them under their feet, and not turn again
and rend her ! But I shall say no more against her :
I see that she was actuated by the best and noblest
motives in what she has done ; and if the act is not a
wise one, may Heaven protect her from its conse-
quences ! May I keep this letter, Lawrence ? — you
see she has never once mentioned me throughout — or
made the most distant allusion to me ; therefore, there
can be no impropriety or harm in it."

" And, therefore, why should you wish to keep it ? "

11 Were not these characters written by her hand ?
and were not these words conceived in her mind, and
many of them spoken by her lips ? "

" Well," said he. And so I kept it ; otherwise,
Halford, you could never have become so thoroughly
acquainted with its contents.

"And when you write," said I, "will you have the
goodness to ask her if I may be permitted to enlighten
my mother and sister on her real history and circum-
stance, just so far as is necessary to make the neigh-
bourhood sensible of the shameful injustice they have
done her? I want no tender messages, but just ask
her that, and tell her it is the greatest favour she
could do me ; and tell her — no, nothing more. — You
see I know the address, and I might write to her
myself, but I am so virtuous as to refrain."

" Well, Pll do this for you, Markham."

" And as soon as you receive an answer, you'll let
me know?"

" If all be well, I'll come myself and tell you imme-
diately."

CHAPTER XLVIII

FIVE or six days after this, Mr Lawrence paid us the
honour of a call ; and when he and I were alone to-

gether — which I contrived as soon as possible, by
bringing him out to look at my cornstacks — he showed
me another letter from his sister. This one he was

Juite willing to submit to my longing gaze ; he thought,
suppose, it would do me good. The only answer it
gave to my message was this : —

"Mr Mark ham is at liberty to make such revelations
concerning me as he judges necessary. He will know
that I should wish but little to be said ou the subject.
I hope he is well ; but tell him he must not think of
me/

I can give you a few extracts from the rest of the
letter, for I was permitted to keep this also — perhaps,

as an antidote to all pernicious hopes and fancies.

******

He is decidedly better, but very low from the de-
pressing effects of his severe illness and the strict
regimen he is obliged to observe — so opposite to all
his previous habits. It is deplorable to see how com-
pletely his past life has degenerated his once noble
constitution, and vitiated the whole system of his
organization. But the doctor says he may now be
considered out of danger, if he will only continue to
observe the necessary restrictions. Some stimulating
cordials he must have, but they should be judiciously
diluted and sparingly used ; and I find it very difficult
to keep him to this. At first, his extreme dread of
death rendered the task an easy one ; but in propor-
tion as he feels his acute suffering abating, and sees
the danger receding, the more intractable he becomes.
Now, also, his appetite for food is beginning to return ;
and here, too, his long habits of self-indulgence are
greatly against him. 1 watch and restrain him as well
as I can, and often get bitterly abused for my rigid
severity ; and sometimes he contrives to elude my
vigilance, and sometimes acts in opposition to my will.
But he is now so completely reconciled to my attend-
ance in general that he is never satisfied when I am not
by his side. I am obliged to be a little stiff with him
sometimes, or he would make a complete slave of me ;

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 423

and I know it would be unpardonable weakness to give
up all other interests for him. I have the servants to
overlook, and my little Arthur to attend to, — and my
own health too, all of which would be entirely ne-
glected were I to satisfy his exorbitant demands. I
do not generally sit up at night, for I think the nurse
who has made it her business, is better qualified for
such undertakings than I am ; but still, an unbroken
night's rest is what I but seldom enjoy, and never can
venture to reckon upon ; for my patient makes no
scruple of calling me up at any hour when his wants
or his fancies require my presence. But he is mani-
festly afraid of my displeasure ; and if at one time he
tries my patience by his unreasonable exactions, and
fretful complaints and reproaches, at another he
depresses me by his abject submission and deprecatory
self-abasement when he fears he has gone too far. But
all this I can readily pardon ; I know it is chiefly the
result of his enfeebled frame and disordered nerves —
what annoys me the most, is his occasional attempts
at affectionate fondness that I can neither credit nor
return ; not that I hate him : his sufferings and my
own laborious care have given him some claim to my
regard — to my affection even, if he would only be
quiet and sincere, and content to let things remain as
they are ; but the more he tries to conciliate me, the
more I shrink from him and from the future.

••' Helen, what do you mean to do when I get
well ? " he asked this morning. " Will you run
away again ? "

" It entirely depends upon your own conduct."

" Oh, I'll be very good."

" But if I find it necessary to leave you, Arthur, I
shall not ' run away ' : you know I have your own
promise that 1 may go whenever I please, and take my
son with me."

" Oh, but you shall have no cause." And then
followed a variety of professions, which 1 rather coldly
checked.

" Will you not forgive me then ? " said he.

424 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" Yes, — I have forgiven you ; but I know you
cannot love me as you once did— and I should be
very sorry if you were to, for I could not pretend to
return it : so let us drop the subject, and never recur
to it again. By what I have done for you, you may
judge of what I will do — if it be not incompatible with
the higher duty I owe to my son (higher, because he
never forfeited his claims, and because I hope to do
more good to him than 1 can ever do to you) ; and if
you wish me to feel kindly towards you, it is deeds
not words which must purchase my affection and
esteem."

His sole reply to this was a slight grimace, and a
scarcely perceptible shrug. Alas, unhappy man !
words, with him, are so much cheaper than deeds ;
it was as if I had said, " Pounds, not pence, must
buy the article you want." And then he sighed a
querulous, self-commiserating sigh, as if in pure regret
that he, the loved and courted of so many worshippers,
should be now abandoned to the mercy of a harsh,
exacting, cold-hearted woman like that, and even glad
of what kindness she chose to bestow.

" It's a pity, isn't it?" said I ; and whether I rightly
divined his musings or not, the observation chimed in
with his thoughts, for he answered — ' ' It can't be
helped," with a rueful smile at my penetration.
* * * * *

I have seen Esther Hargrave twice. She is a charm-
ing creature, but her blithe spirit is almost broken, and
her sweet temper almost spoiled, by the still unre-
mitting persecutions of her mother in behalf of her
rejected suitor — not violent, but wearisome and
unremitting like a continual dropping. The unnatural
parent seems determined to make her daughter's life a
burden, if she will not yield to her desires.

" Mamma does all she can," said she, " to make me
feel myself a burden and incumbrance to the family,
and the most ungrateful, selfisli, and undutiful daughter
that ever was born ; and Walter, too, is as stern and
cold and haughty as if he hated me outright. I believe

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 425

I should have yielded at once if I had known, from the
beginning, how much resistance would have cost me ;
but now, for very obstinacy's sake, I will stand out."

" A bad motive for a good resolve," I answered.
"But, however, I know you have better motives,
really, for your perseverance : and I counsel you to
keep them still in view."

"Trust me I will. I threaten mamma sometimes,
that I'll run away, and disgrace the family by earning
my own livelihood, if she torments me any more ; and
then that frightens her a little. But I will do it, in
good earnest, if they don't mind."

" Be quiet and patient awhile," said I, " and better
times will come."

Poor girl ! I wish somebody that was worthy to
possess her would come and take her away — don't you,
Frederick ?

* * * * *

If the perusal of this letter filled me with dismay
for Helen's future life and mine, there was one great
source of consolation : it was now in my power to clear
her name from every foul aspersion. The Millwards
and the Wilsons should see with their own eyes the
bright sun bursting from the cloud — and they should
be scorched and dazzled by its beams ; — and my own
friends too should see it — they whose suspicions had
been such gall and wormwood to my soul. To effect
this, 1 had only to drop the good seed into the ground,
and it would soon become a stately branching herb : a
few words to my mother and sister, I knew, would
suffice to spread the news throughout the whole neigh-
bourhood, without any further exertion on my part.

Rose was delighted ; and as soon as I had told her
all I thought proper — which was all I affected to know
— she flew with alacrity to put on her bonnet and
shawl, and hasten to carry the glad tidings to the
Millwards and Wilsons— glad tidings, I suspect, to
none but herself and Mary Mill ward — that steady,
sensible girl, whose sterling worth had been so quickly
perceived and duly valued by the supposed Mn

426 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

Graham, in spite of her plain outside ; and who, on
her part, had been better able to see and appreciate
that lady's true character and qualities than the
brightest genius among them.

As I may never have occasion to mention her again,
I may as well tell you here, that she was at this time
privately engaged to Richard Wilson — a secret, I
believe, to every one but themselves. That worthy
student was now at Cambridge, where his most exem-
plary conduct and his diligent perseverance in the
pursuit of learning carried him safely through, and
eventually brought him with hard-earned honours,
and an untarnished reputation, to the close of his
collegiate career. In due time, he became Mr Mill-
ward's first and only curate — for that gentleman's
declining years forced him at last to acknowledge that
the duties of his extensive parish were a little too
much for those vaunted energies which he was wont to
boast over his younger and less active brethren of the
cloth. This was what the patient, faithful lovers had
privately planned, and quietly waited for, years ago ;
and in due time they were united, to the astonishment
of the little world they lived in, that had long since
declared them both born to single blessedness ; affirm-
ing it impossible that the pale, retiring bookworm
should ever summon courage to seek a wife, or be
able to obtain one if he did, and equally impossible
that the plain looking, plain dealing, unattractive,
unconciliating Miss Millward should ever find a
husband.

They still continued to live at the vicarage, the lady
dividing her time between her father, her husband,
and their poor parishioners, — and subsequently her
rising family ; and now that the Reverend Michael
Millward has been gathered to his fathers, full of years
and honours, the Reverend Edward Wilson has suc-
ceeded him to the vicarage of Lindenhope, greatly to
the satisfaction of its inhabitants, who had so long
tried and fully proved his merits, and those of his
excellent and well-loved partner.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 427

If you are interested in the after-fate of that lady's
sister, I can only tell you — what perhaps you have
heard from another quarter — that some twelve or
thirteen years ago she relieved the happy couple of
her presence by marrying a wealthy tradesman of

L ; and I don't envy him his bargain. I fear she

leads him a rather uncomfortable life, though, happily,
he is too dull to perceive the extent of his misfortune.
I have little enough to do with her myself: we have
not met for many years ; but, I am well assured,
she has not yet forgotten or forgiven either her former
lover, or the lady whose superior qualities first opened
his eyes to the folly of his boyish attachment.

As for Richard Wilson's sister, she, having been
wholly unable to re-capture Mr Lawrence, or obtain
any partner rich and elegant enough to suit her ideas
of what the husband of Jane Wilson ought to be, is
yet in single blessedness. Shortly after the death of
her mother, she withdrew the light of her presence
from Ryecote Farm, finding it impossible any longer
to endure the rough manners and unsophisticated
habits of her honest brother Robert, and his worthy
wife, or the idea of being identified with such vulgar
people in the eyes of the world, — and took lodgings in

the county town, where she lived, and still lives,

I suppose, in a kind of close-fisted, cold, uncomfortable
gentility, doing no good to others, and but little to
herself ; spending her days in fancy-work and scandal ;
referring frequently to her " brother the vicar," and
her " sister, the vicar's lady," but never to her
brother, the farmer, and her sister, the farmer's wife ;
seeing as much company as she can without too much
expense, but loving no one and beloved by none — a
cold-hearted, supercilious, keenly, insidiously cen-
sorious old maid:

428 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

CHAFFER XLIX

THOUGH Mr Lawrence's health was iiow quite re-
established, my visits to Woodford were as unremitting
as ever ; though often less protracted than before.
We seldom talked about Mrs Huntingdon ; but yet we
never met without mentioning her, for I never sought
his company but with the hope of hearing something
about her, and he never sought mine at all, because he
saw me often enough without. But I always began to
talk of other things, and waited first to see if he would
introduce the subject. If he did not, I would casually
ask, "Have you heard from your sister lately?" If
he said " No," the matter was dropped : if he said
"Yes," I would venture to inquire, "How is she?"
but never " How is her husband ? " though I might be
burning to know ; because I had not the hypocrisy to
profess any anxiety for his recovery, and I had not the
face to express any desire for a contrary result. Had
I any such desire ? — I fear I must plead guilty ; but
since you have heard my confession, you must hear my
justification as well — a few of the excuses, at least.
wherewith I sought to pacify my own accusing
conscience.

In the first place, you see his life did harm to others,
and evidently no good to himself; and though I wished
it to terminate, I would not have hastened its close if,
by the lifting of a finger, I could have done so, or if a
spirit had whispered in my ear that a single effort of
the will would be enough, — unless, indeed, I had the
power to exchange him for some other victim of the
grave, whose life might be of service to his race, and
whose death would be lamented by his friends. But was
there any harm in wishing that, among the many
thousands whose souls would certainly be required of
them before the year was over, this wretched mortal
might be one ? I thought not ; and therefore I wished
with all my heart that it might please Heaven to
remove him to a better world, or if that might not be,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 429

still, to take him oat of this ; for if he were unfit to
answer the summons now, after a warning sickness,
and with such an angel by his side, it seemed but too
certain that he never would be — that, on the contrary,
returning health would bring returning lust and
villany, and as he grew more certain of recovery, more
accustomed to her generous goodness, his feelings
would become more callous, his heart more flinty and
impervious to her persuasive arguments — but God
knew best. Meantime, however, I could not but be
anxious for the result of his decrees ; knowing, as I
did, that (leaving myself entirely out of the question)
however Helen might feel interested in her husband's
welfare, however she might deplore his fate, still while
he lived she must be miserable.

A fortnight passed away, and my inquiries were
always answered in the negative. At length a wel-
come "yes" drew from me the second question.
Lawrence divined my anxious thoughts, and appre-
ciated my reserve. I feared, at first, he was going to
torture me by unsatisfactory replies, and either leave
me quite in the dark concerning what 1 wanted to know,
or force me to drag the information out of him, morsel
by morsel, by direct inquiries — " and serve you right,"
you will say ; but he was more merciful ; and in a
little while, he put his sister's letter into my hand. 1
silently read it, and restored it to him without com-
ment or remark. This mode of procedure suited him
so well, that thereafter he always pursued the plan of
showing me her letters at once, wnen I inquired after
her, if there were any to show — it was so much less
trouble than to tell me their contents ; and I received
such confidences so quietly and discreetly that he was
never induced to discontinue them.

But I devoured those precious letters with my eyes,
and never let them go till their contents were stamped
upon my mind ; aud when I got home, the most im-
portant passages were entered in my diary among the
remarkaole events of the day.

The first of these communications brought intelli-

430 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

gence of a serious relapse in Mr Huntingdon's illness,
entirely the result of his own infatuation in persisting
in the indulgence of his appetite for stimulating drink.
In vain had she remonstrated, in vain she had
mingled his wine with water : her arguments and en-
treaties were a nuisance, her interference was an insult
so intolerable, that, at length, on finding she had
covertly diluted the pale port that was brought him,
he threw the bottle out of window, swearing he would
not be cheated like a baby, ordered the butler, on pain
of instant dismissal, to bring a bottle of the strongest
wine in the cellar, and affirming that he should have
been well long ago if he had been let to have his own
way, but she wanted to keep him weak in order that
she might have him under her thumb — but by the Lord
Harry, he would have no more humbug — seized a glass
in one hand and the bottle in the other, and never
rested till he had drunk it dry. Alarming symptoms
were the immediate result of this " imprudence " as
she mildly termed it — symptoms which had rather
increased than diminished since ; and this was the
cause of her delay in writing to her brother. Every
former feature of his malady had returned with aug-
mented virulence : the slight external wound, half
healed, had broken out afresh ; internal inflammation
had taken place, which might terminate fatally if not
soon removed. Of course, the wretched sufferer's
temper was not improved by this calamity — in fact, I
suspect it was well nigh insupportable, though his
kind nurse did not complain ; but she said she had
been obliged at last to give her son in charge to Esther
Hargrave, as her presence was so constantly required
in the sick room that she could not possibly attend to him
herself ; and though the child had begged to be allowed
to continue with her there, and to help her to nurse his
papa, and though she had no doubt he would have
been very good and quiet, — she could not think ot
subjecting his young and tender feelings to the sight
of so much suffering, or of allowing him to witness his
father's impatience, or hear the dreadful language

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 431

he was wont to use in his paroxysms of pain or
irritation.

" The latter," continued she, " most deeply regrets
the step that has occasioned his relapse, — but, as usual,
he throws the blame upon me. If I had reasoned with
him like a rational creature, he says, it never would
have happened ; but to be treated like a baby or a fool,
was enough to put any man past his patience, and
drive him to assert his independence even at the sacri-
fice of his own interest — he forgets how often I had
reasoned him ' past his patience ' before. He appears
to be sensible of his danger ; but nothing can induce
him to behold it in the proper light. The other night
while I was waiting on him, and just as I had brought
him a draught to assuage his burning thirst — he
observed, with a return of his former sarcastic
bitterness, —

" Yes, you're mighty attentive now ! — I suppose
there's nothing you wouldn't do for me now?"

" You know, ' said I, a little surprised at his
manner, " that I am willing to do anything to relieve
you."

" Yes, now, my immaculate angel ; but when once
you have secured your reward, and find yourself safe in
heaven, and me howling in hell-fire, catch you lifting
a finger to serve me then ! — No, you'll look com-
placently on, and not so much as dip the tip of your
finger in water to cool my tongue ! "

" If so, it will be because of the great gulf over
which I cannot pass ; and if I could look complac-
ently on in such a case, it would be only from the
assurance that you were being purified from your
sins, and fitted to enjoy the happiness I felt. — But
are you determined, Arthur, that I shall not meet
you in heaven ? "

" Humph ! What should I do there, I should like
to know ? "

" Indeed, I cannot tell ; and I fear it is too certain
that your tastes and feelings must be widely altered
before you can have any enjoyment there. But do

432 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

you prefer sinking, without an effort, into the state of
torment you picture to yourself?"

" Oh, it's all a fable," said he, contemptuously.

"Are you sure, Arthur? are you quite sure? Because
if there is any doubt, and if you should tind yourself
mistaken after all, when it is too late to turn "

" It would be rather awkward, to be sure," said he ;
" but don't bother about me now — I'm not going to
die yet. I can't and won't," he added vehemently,
as if suddenly struck with the appalling aspect of
that terrible event. " Helen, you must save me ! "
And he earnestly seized my hand, and looked into
my face with such an imploring eagerness that my
heart bled for him, and 1 could not speak for tears.
* * * * *

The next letter brought intelligence that the malady
was fast increasing : and the poor sufferer's horror of
death was still more distressing than his impatience of
bodily pain. All his friends had not forsaken him, for
Mr Hattersley, hearing of his danger, had come to see
him from his distant home in the north. His wife
had accompanied him, as much for the pleasure of
seeing her dear friend from whom she had been parted
so long as to visit her mother and sister.

Mrs Huntingdon expressed herself glad to see Mill-
cent once more, and pleased to behold her so happy
and well. She is now at the Grove, continued the
letter, but she often calls to see me. Mr Hattersley
spends much of his time at Arthur's bed-side. With
more good feeling than I gave him credit for, he
evinces considerable sympathy for his unhappy friend,
and is far more willing than able to comfort him.
Sometimes he tries to joke and laugh with him, but
that will not do : sometimes he endeavours to cheer
him with talk about old times ; and this at one
time may serve to divert the sufferer from his
own sad thoughts ; at another, it will only plunge
him into deeper melancholy than before ; and
then Hattersley is confounded, and knows not what
to say, — unless it be a timid suggestion that

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 433

the clergyman might be sent for. But Arthur will
never consent to that : he knows he has rejected the
clergyman's well-meant admonitions with scoffing
levity at other times, and cannot dream of turning
to him for consolation now.

Mr Hattersley sometimes offers his services instead
of mine, but Arthur will not let me go : that strange
whim still increases, as his strength declines — the fancy
to have me always by his side. I hardly ever leave
him, except to go into the next room, where I some-
times snatch an hour or so of sleep when he is quiet ;
but even then, the door is left ajar that he may know
me to be within call. I am with him now, while I
write ; and I fear my occupation annoys him ; though
I frequently break off to attend to him, and though
Mr Hattersley is also by his side. That gentleman
came, as he said, to beg a holiday for me, that I might
have a run in the park, this fine, frosty morning,
with Milicent, and Esther, and little Arthur, whom
he had driven over to see me. Our poor invalid
evidently felt it a heartless proposition, and would
have felt it still more heartless in me to accede to it
I therefore said I would only go and speak to them a
minute, and then come back. I did but exchange a
few words with them, just outside the portico — inhaling
the fresh, bracing air as I stood — and then, resisting
the earnest and eloquent entreaties of all three to stay
a little longer, and join them in a walk round the
garden, 1 tore myself away and returned to my patient.
I had not been absent five minutes, but he reproached
me bitterly for my levity and neglect. His friend
espoused my cause : —

" Nay, nay, Huntingdon," said he, " you're too hard
upon her — she must have food and sleep, and a mouth-
ful of fresh air now and then, or she can't stand it, I
tell you. Look at her, man, she's worn to a shadow
already."

" What are her sufferings to mine?" said the poor
invalid. " You don't grudge me these attentions, do
you, Helen?"

SB

434 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" No, Arthur, if I could really serve you by them.
I would give my life to save you, if I might."

" Would you, indeed ?— No ! »

" Most willingly, I would."

" Ah ! that's because you think yourself more fit to
die ! "

There was a painful pause. He was evidently
plunged in gloomy reflections, but while I pondered
for something to say, that might benefit without
alarming him, Hattersley, whose mind had been pur-
suing almost the same course, broke silence with, —

11 1 say, Huntingdon, I would send for a parson, of
some sort — If you didn't like the vicar, you know, you
could have his curate, or somebody else."

" No ; none of them can benefit me if she can't,"
was the answer. And the tears gushed from his eyes
as he earnestly exclaimed, — " Oh, Helen, if I had
listened to you, it never would have come to this !
And if I had heard you long ago — Oh, God ! how
different it would have been ! "

" Hear me now, then, Arthur," said I, gently press-
ing his hand.

"It's too late, now," said he despondingly. And
after that another paroxysm of pain came on ; and
then his mind began to wander, and we feared his
death was approaching ; but an opiate was administered,
his sufferings began to abate, he gradually became
more composed, and at length sank into a kind of
slumber. He has been quieter since ; and now Hat-
tersley has left him, expressing a hope that he shall
find him better when he calls to-morrow.

"Perhaps I may recover," he replied, "who
knows ? — this may have been the crisis. What do
you think, Helen ? "

Unwilling to depress him, I gave the most cheering
answer I could, but still recommended him to prepare
for the possibility of what I inly feared was but too
certain. But he was determined to hope. Shortly
after, he relapsed into a kind of doze — but now he
groans again.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 436

There is a change. Suddenly he called me to his
side, with such a strange, excited manner that I feared
he was delirious — but he was not. " That was the
crisis, Helen ! " said he delightedly — " I had an
infernal pain here — it is quite gone now ; I never was
so easy since the fall — Quite gone, by heaven ! " and
he clasped and kissed my hand in the very fulness of
his heart ; but, finding I did not participate his joy,
he quickly flung it from him, and bitterly cursed my
coldness and insensibility. How could I reply ?
Kneeling beside him, I took his hand and fondly
pressed it to my lips — for the first time since our
separation — and told him as well as tears would let me
speak, that it was not that that kept me silent ; it
was the fear that this sudden cessation of pain was not
so favourable a symptom as he supposed. 1 immedi-
ately sent for the doctor. We are now anxiously
awaiting him : I will tell you what he says. There is
still the same freedom from pain — the same dead-
ness to all sensation where the su fife ring was most
acute.

My worst fears are realized — mortification has com-
menced. The doctor has told him there is no hope —
no words can describe his anguish. I can write no

more.

*****

The next was still more distressing in the tenor of
its contents. The sufferer was fast approaching dis-
solution— dragged almost to the verge of that awful
chasm he trembled to contemplate, from which no
agony of prayers or tears could save him. Nothing
could comfort him now ; Hattersley's rough attempts
at consolation were utterly in vain. The world was
nothing to him : life and all its interests, its petty
cares and transient pleasures were a cruel mockery.
To talk of the past, was to torture him with vain
remorse ; to refer to the future, was to increase his
anguish ; and yet to be silent, was to leave him a prey
to his own regrets and apprehensions. Often he dwelt
with shuddering minuteness on the fate of his perish-

436 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

ing clay — the slow, piecemeal dissolution already in-
vading his frame ; the shroud, the coffin, the dark,
lonely grave, and all the horrors of corruption.

" If 1 try," said his afflicted wife, " to divert him
from these things — to raise his thoughts to higher
themes, it is no better : — ' Worse and worse ! ' he
groans. ' If there be really life beyond the tomb, and
judgment after death, how can I face it ? ' — I cannot
do him any good ; he will neither be enlightened, nor
roused, nor comforted by anything I say ; and yet he
clings to me with unrelenting pertinacity — with a kind
of childish desperation, as if I could save him from the
fate he dreads. He keeps me night and day beside
him. He is holding my left hand now, while I write ;
he has held it thus for hours : sometimes quietly, with
his pale face upturned to mine : sometimes clutching
my arm with violence — the big drops starting from his
forehead, at the thoughts of what he sees, or thinks
he sees before him. If I withdraw my hand for a
moment, it distresses him : —

" ' Stay with me, Helen,' he says ; ' let me hold you
so : it seems as if harm could not reach me while you
are here. But death will come — it is coming now —
"ast, fast ! — and — Oh, if I could believe there was
.othing after ! '

" ' Don't try to believe it, Arthur ; there is joy and
glory after, if you will but try to reach it ! '

" ' What, for me ? ' he said, with something like a
laugh. ' Are we not to be judged according to the
deeds done in the body ? Where's the use of a proba-
tionary existence, if a man may spend it as he pleases,
just contrary to God's decrees, and then go to heaven
with the blest — if the vilest sinner may win the reward
of the holiest saint, by merely saying, " I repent ? " '

' ' e But if you sincerely repent '

" ' 1 can't repent ; I only fear/

te ' You only regret the past for its consequences to
yourself?'

" ' Just so — except that I'm sorry to have wronged
you, Nell, because you're so good to me/

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 437

" ' Think of the goodness of God, and you cannot
but be grieved to have offended Htm/

" ' What is God — I cannot see Him or hear Him ?-
God is only an idea.5

" ' God is Infinite Wisdom, and Power, and Good-
ness— and LOVE ; but if this idea is too vast for your
human faculties — if your mind loses itself in its over-
whelming infinitude, fix it on Him who condescended
to take our nature upon Him, who was raised to heaven
even in His glorified human body, in whom the fulno.—
of the godhead shines.'

" But he only shook his head and sighed. Then, in
another paroxysm of shuddering horror, he tightened
his grasp on my hand and arm, and groaning and
lamenting, still clung to me with that wild, desperate
earnestness so harrowing to my soul, because I know
I cannot help him. I did my best to soothe and com-
fort him.

"'Death is so terrible/ he cried, (1 cannot bear
it ! You don't know, Helen — you can't imagine what
it is, because you haven't it before you ; and when I'm
buried, you'll return to your old ways and be as happy
as ever, and all the world will go on just as busy and

merry as if I had never been ; while I ' He burst

into tears.

" ' You needn't let that distress you,' I said ; ' we
shall all follow you soon enough.'

" ' I wish to God I could take you with me now ! '
he exclaimed, ' you should plead for me.'

" ' No man can deliver his brother, nor make agree-
ment unto God for him,' I replied : ' it cost more to
redeem their souls — it cost the blood of an incarnate
God, perfect and sinless in Himself, to redeem us from
the bondage of the evil one : — let Him plead for
you.'

" But I seem to speak in vain. He does not now,
as formerly, laugh these blessed truths to scorn : but
still he cannot trust, or will not comprehend them.
He cannot linger long. He suffers dreadfully, and so
do those that wait upon him — but I will not harass

438 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

you with further details : I have said enough, I think,
to convince you that I did well to go to him."

* * * * * *

Poor, poor Helen ! dreadful indeed her trials must
have been ! And I could do nothing to lessen them —
nay, it almost seemed as if 1 had brought them upon
her myself, by my own secret desires ; and whether I
looked at her husband's sufferings or her own, it
seemed almost like a judgment upon myself for having
cherished such a wish.

The next day but one there came another letter.
That too was put into my hands without a remark,
and these are its contents : —

Dec. 5th.

He is gone at last. I sat beside him all night, with
my hand fast locked in his, watching the changes of
his features and listening to his failing breath. He
had been silent a long time, and I thought he would
never speak again, when he murmured, faintly but
distinctly, —

" Pray for me, Helen ! "

" 1 do pray for you — every hour and every minute,
Arthur ; but you must pray for yourself."

His lips moved, but emitted no sound ; — then his
looks became unsettled ; and, from the incoherent,
half-uttered words that escaped him from time to time,
supposing him to be now unconscious, I gently dis-
engaged my hand from his, intending to steal away for
a breath of fresh air, for I was almost ready to faint ;
but a convulsive movement of his fingers, and a faintly
whispered " Don't leave me!" immediately recalled
me : I took his hand again, and held it till he was no
more — and then I fainted : it was not grief ; it was
exhaustion, that, till then, I had been enabled success-
fully to combat. Oh, P'rederick ! none can imagine
the miseries, bodily and mental, of that death-bed !
How could I endure to think that that poor trembling
soul was hurried away to everlasting torment ? it would
drive me mad. But thank God I have hope — not only
from a vague dependence on the possibility that peni-

THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL 439

tence and pardon might have reached him at the last,
but from the blessed confidence that, through whatever
purging fires the erring spirit may be doomed to pass —
whatever fate awaits it, still, it is not lost, and God,
who hateth nothing that he hath made, will bless it in
the end !

His body will be consigned on Thursday to that dark
grave he so much dreaded ; but the coffin must be
closed as soon as possible. If you will attend the
funeral come quickly, for I need help.

HELEN HUNTINGDON.

CHAPTER L

ON reading this, 1 had no reason to disguise my joy
and hope from Frederick Lawrence, for I had none to
be ashamed of. I felt no joy but that his sister was at
length released from her afflictive, overwhelming toil —
no hope but that she would in time recover from the
effects of it, and be suffered to rest in peace and quietness,
at least, for the remainder of her life. I experienced
a painful commiseration for her unhappy husband
(though fully aware that he had brought every particle
of his sufferings upon himself, and but too well deserved
them all), and a profound sympathy for her own afflic-
tions, and deep anxiety for the consequences of those
harassing cares, those dreadful vigils, that incessant
and deleterious confinement beside a living corpse — for
I was persuaded she had not hinted half the sufferings
she had had to endure.

" You will go to her, Lawrence? " said I, as 1 put the
letter into his hand.

'' Yes, immediately."

" That's right ! I'll leave you, then, to prepare for
your departure."

" I've done that already, while you were reading the
letter, and before you came ; and the carriage is now
coming round to the door."

Inly approving his promptitude, I bade him good

440 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

morning, and withdrew. He gave me a searching
glance as we pressed each other's hands at parting ;
but whatever he sought in my countenance, he saw
there nothing hut the most becoming gravity — it might
be, mingled with a little sternness in momentary re-
sentment at what I suspected to be passing in his
mind.

Had I forgotten my own prospects, my ardent love,
my pertinacious hopes? It seemed like sacrilege to
revert to them now, but I had not forgotten them. It
was, however, with a gloomy sense of the darkness of
those prospects, the fallacy of those hopes, and the
vanity of that affection, that I reflected on those things
as I remounted my horse and slowly journeyed home-
wards. Mrs Huntingdon was free now ; it was no
longer a crime to think of her — but did she ever think
of me ? — not now — of course it was not to be expected —
but would she, when this shock was over ? — In all the
course of her correspondence with her brother (our
mutual friend, as she herself had called him), she had
never mentioned me but once— and that was from
necessity. This, alone, afforded strong presumption
that I was already forgotten ; yet this was not the
worst : it might have been her sense of duty that had
kept her silent, she might he only trying to forget ;
but in addition to this, I had a gloomy conviction that
the awful realities she had seen and felt, her recon-
ciliation with the man she had once loved, his dreadful
sufferings and death, must eventually efface from her
mind all traces of her passing love for me. She might
recover from these horrors so far as to be restored
to her former health, her tranquillity, her cheerful-
ness even — but never to those feelings which would
appear to her, henceforth, as a fleeting fancy, a vain,
illusive dream ; especially as there was no one to
remind her of my existence — no means of assuring
her of my fervent constancy, now that we were so
far apart, and delicacy forbade me to see her or
to write to her, for months to come at least. And
how could I engage her brother in my behalf? how

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 441

could I break that icy crust of shy reserve ? Perhaps
he would disapprove of my attachment now, as highly
as before ; perhaps he would think me too poor — too
lowly born, to match with his sister. Yes, there was
another barrier : doubtless there was a wide distinction
between the rank and circumstances of Mrs Hunting-
don, the lady of Grassdale Manor, and those of Mrs
Graham the artist, the tenant of Wildfell Hall ; and
it might be deemed presumption in me to offer my
hand to the former — oy the world, by her friends — if
not by herself— a penalty I might brave, if I were
certain she loved me ; but otherwise, how could I ?
And, finally, her deceased husband, with his usual
selfishness, might have so constructed his will as to
place restrictions upon her marrying again. So that
you see I had reasons enough for despair if I chose to
indulge it.

Nevertheless, it was with no small degree of im-
patience that I looked forward to Mr Lawrence's return
from Grassdale — impatience that increased in propor-
tion as his absence was prolonged. He stayed away
some ten or twelve days. All very right that he
should remain to comfort and help his sister, but he
might have written to tell me how she was, — or at
least to tell me when to expect his return ; for he
might have known I was suffering tortures of anxiety
for her, and uncertainty for my own future prospects.
And when he did return, all he told me about her was,
that she had been greatly exhausted and worn by her
unremitting exertions in behalf of that man who bad
been the scourge of her life, and had dragged her with
him nearly to the portals of the grave, — and was still
much shaken and depressed by his melancholy end
and the circumstances attendant upon it ; but no word
in reference to me — no intimation that my name had
ever passed her lips, or even been spoken in her pre-
sence. To be sure, I asked no questions on the
subject : I could not bring my mind to do so, believ-
ing, as I did, that Lawrence was indeed aver?e to the
idea of my union with his sister.

442 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

I saw that he expected to be further questioned
coucerning his visit, and I saw too, with the keen
perception of awakened jealousy, or alarmed self-
esteem — or by whatever name I ought to call it — that
he rather shrank from that impending scrutiny, and
was no less pleased than surprised to find it did not
come. Of course, I was burning with anger, but pride
obliged me to suppress my feelings, and preserve a
smooth face — or at least a stoic calmness — throughout
the interview. It was well it did, for, reviewing the
matter in my sober judgment, I must say it would have
been highly absurd and improper to have quarrelled
with him on such an occasion : I must confess too that
I wronged him in my heart : the truth was, he liked
e very well, but he was fully aware that a union
tween Mrs Huntingdon and me would be what the
world calls a me'salliance ; and it was not in his nature
to set the world at defiance ; — especially in such a case
as this, for its dread laugh, or ill opinion, would be far
more terrible to him directed against his sister than
himself. Had he believed that a union was necessary
to the happiness of both, or of either, or had he known
how fervently I loved her, he would have acted differ-
ently ; but seeing me so calm and cool, he would not
for the world disturb my philosophy ; and though
refraining entirely from any active opposition to the
match, lie would yet do nothing to bring it about, and
would much rather take the part of prudence, in aiding
us to overcome our mutual predilections, than that of
feeling, to encourage them. " And he was in the
right of it," you will say. Perhaps he was — at any
rate, I had no business to feel so bitterly against him
as I did ; but I could not then regard the matter in
such a moderate light ; and, after a brief conversation
upon indifferent topics, I went away, suffering all the
pangs of wounded pride and injured friendship, in
addition to those resulting from the. fear that 1 was
indeed forgotten, and the knowledge that she I loved
was alone and afflicted, suffering from injured health
and dejected spirits, and I was forbidden to console or

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 443

assist her — forbidden even to assure her of my sym-
pathy, for the transmission of any such message through
Nlr Lawrence was now completely out of the question.

But what should I do ? I would wait, and see if she
would notice me. which of course she would not,
unless by some kind message intrusted to her brother,
that, in all probability, he would not deliver, and then
— dreadful thought ! — she would think me cooled and
changed for not returning it, or, perhaps, he had
already given her to understand that I had ceased to
think of her. I would wait, however, till the six
months after our parting were fairly passed (which
would be about the close of February), and then 1
would send her a letter modestly reminding her of her
former permission to write to her at the close of that
period, and hoping I might avail myself of it, .it least
to express my heart-felt sorrow for her late afflictions,
my just appreciation of her generous conduct, and my
hope that her health was now completely re-established,
and that she would, some time, be permitted to enjoy
those blessings of a peaceful happy life, which had
been denied her so long, but which none could more
truly be said to merit than herself, — adding a few words
of kind remembrance to my little friend Arthur, with
a hope that he had not forgotten me, and, perhaps, a
few more in reference to by-gone times, to the delight-
ful hours I had passed in her society, and my unfurling
recollection of them, which was the salt and solace of
my life, and a hope that her recent troubles had not
entirely banished me from her mind. If she did not
answer this, of course I should write no more : if she
did (as surely she would, in some fashion), my future
proceedings should be regulated by her reply.

Ten weeks was long to wait in such a miserable state
of uncertainty, but courage ! it must be endured ; and
meantime I would continue to see Lawrence now and
then, though not so often as before, and I would still
pursue my habitual inquiries after his sister, if he had
lately heard from her, and how she was, but nothing
more.

444 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

I did so, and the answers I received were always
provokingly limited to the letter of the inquiry : she
was much as usual : she made no complaints, but the
tone of her last letter evinced great depression of
mind : she said she was better : and, filially, she said
she was well, and very busy with her son's education,
and with the management of her late husband's pro-
perty, and the regulation of his affairs. The rascal
had never told me how that property was disposed, or
whether Mr Huntingdon had died intestate or not ;
and I would sooner die than ask him, lest he should
misconstrue into covetousness my desire to know. He
never offered to show me his sister's letters now, and I
never hinted a wish to see them. February, however,
was approaching ; December was past ; January, at
length, was almost over — a few more weeks, and then,
certain despair or renewal of hope would put an end to
this long agony of suspense.

But alas ! it was just about that time she was called
to sustain another blow in the death of her uncle, a
worthless old fellow enough in himself, I dare say, but
he had always shown more kindness and affection to
her than to any other creature, and she had always
been accustomed to regard him as a parent. She was
with him when he died, and had assisted her aunt to
nurse him during the last stage of his illness. Her
brother went to Staningley to attend the funeral, and
told me, upon his return, that she was still there, en-
deavouring to cheer her aunt with her presence, and
likely to remain some time. This was bad news for
me, for while she continued there I could not
write to her, as I did not know the address, and
would not ask it of him. But week followed week,
and every time 1 inquired about her she was still at
Staningley.

" Where is Staningley ? " I asked at last.

' { In shire," was the brief reply ; and there was

something so cold and dry in the manner of it, that I
was effectually deterred from requesting a more definite
account.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 445

" When will she return to Grassdale?" was my next
question.

" I don't know."

"Confound it!" I muttered.

" Why, Markham ? " asked my companion, with an
air of innocent surprise. But I did not deign to
answer him, save by a look of silent sullen contempt,
at which he turned away, and contemplated the carpet
with a slight smile, half pensive, half amused ; but
quickly looking up, he began to talk of other subjects,
trying to draw me into a cheerful and friendly con-
versation, but I was too much irritated to discourse
with him, and soon took leave.

You see Lawrence and I somehow could not manage
to get on very well together. The fact is, I believe,
we were both of us a little too touchy. It is a trouble-
some thing, Halford, this susceptibility to affronts
where none are intended. I am no martyr to it now,
as you can bear me witness : I have learned to be
merry and wise, to be more easy with myself and more
indulgent to my neighbours, and I can afford to laugh
at both Lawrence and you.

Partly from accident, partly from wilful negligence
on my part (for I was really beginning to dislike him),
several weeks elapsed before I saw my friend again.
When we did meet, it was he that sought me out.
One bright morning, early in June, he came into
the field where I was just commencing my hay
harvest.

" It is long since I saw you, Markham," said he,
after the first few words had passed between us. ' ' Do
you never mean to come to W oodford again ? "

"I called once, and you were out."

"I was sorry, but that was long since ; I hoped you
would call again, and now I have called, and you were
out, which you generally are, or I would do myself
the pleasure of calling more frequently ; but being
determined to see you this time, I have left my pony
in the lane, and come over hedge and ditch to join
you ; for I am about to leave Woodford for a while,

446 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

and may not have the pleasure of seeing you again for
a month or two."

" Where are you going ? "

' ' To Grassdale first," said he, with a half-smile he
would willingly have suppressed if he could.

"To Grassdale ! Is she there, then?"

" Yes, but in a day or two she will leave it to

accompany Mrs Maxwell to F for the benefit of

the sea air, and I shall go with them." (F was at

that time a quiet but respectable watering place : it is
considerably more frequented now.)

Lawrence seemed to expect me to take advantage of
this circumstance to intrust him with some sort of a
message to his sister ; and I believe he would have
undertaken to deliver it without any material objec-
tions, if I had had the sense to ask him, though of
course he would not offer to do so, if I was content to
let it alone. But I could not bring myself to make
the request ; and it was not till after he was gone,
that I saw how fair an opportunity I had lost ; and
then, indeed, I deeply regretted my stupidity and my
foolish pride, but it was now too late to remedy the
evil.

He did not return till towards the latter end of

August. He wrote to me twice or thrice from F ,

but his letters were most provokingly unsatisfactory,
dealing in generalities or in trifles that I cared nothing
about, or replete with fancies and reflections equally
unwelcome to me at the time, saying next to nothing
about his sister, and little more about himself. I
would wait, however, till he came back ; perhaps I
could get something more out of him then. At all
events, I would not write to her now, while she was
with him and her aunt, who doubtless would be still
more hostile to my presumptuous aspirations than
himself. When she was returned to the silence
and solitude of her own home it would be my fittest
opportunity.

When Lawrence came, however, he was as reserved
as ever ou the subject of my keen anxiety. He told

THE TENANT OF \VILDFELL HALL 447

me that his sister had derived considerable benefit

from her stay at F , that her sou was quite well,

and— alas ! that both of them were gone, with Mrs
Maxwell, back to Staningley, and there they stayed at
least three months. But instead of boring you with
my chagrin, my expectations and disappointments,
my fluctuations of dull despondency and flickering
hope, my varying resolutions, now to drop it, and now
to persevere — now to make a bold push, and now to
let things pass and patiently abide my time, — I will
employ myself in settling the business of one or two
of the characters, introduced in the course of this
narrative, whom I may not have occasion to mention
again.

Some time before Mr Huntingdon's death, Lady
Lowborough eloped with another gallant to the Con-
tinent, where, having lived awhile in reckless gaiety
and dissipation, they quarrelled and parted. She
went dashing on for a season, but years came and
money went : she sunk, at length, in difficulty and
debt, disgrace and misery ; and died at last, as I have
heard, in penury, neglect, and utter wretchedness.
But this might be only a report : she may be living
yet for anything I or any of her relatives or former
acquaintances can tell ; for they have all lost sight of
her long years ago, and would as thoroughly forget
her if they could. Her husband, however, upon this
second misdemeanour, immediately sought and ob-
tained a divorce, and not long after, married again.
It was well he did, for Lord Lowborough, morose and
moody as he seemed, was not the man for a bachelor's
life. No public interests, no ambitious projects, or
active pursuits, — or ties of friendship even (if he had
had any friends), could compensate to him for the
absence of domestic comforts and endearments. He
had a son and a nominal daughter, it is true, but they
too painfully reminded him of their mother, and the
unfortunate little Annabella was a source of perpetual
bitterness to his soul. He had obliged himself to
treat her with paternal kindness : he had forced him-

448 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

self not to hate her, and even, perhaps, to feel some
degree of kindly regard for her, at last, in return for
her artless and unsuspecting attachment to himself;
but the bitterness of his self-condemnation for his in-
ward feelings towards that innocent being, his constant
struggles to subdue the evil promptings of his nature
(for it was not a generous one), though partly guessed
at by those who knew him, could be known to God
and his own heart alone ; — so also was the hardness of
his conflicts with the temptation to return to the vice
of his youth, and seek oblivion for past calamities,
and deadness to the present misery of a blighted heart,
a joyless, friendless life, and a morbidly disconsolate
mind, by yielding again to that insidious foe to health,
and sense, and virtue, which had so deplorably en-
slaved and degraded him before.
~ The second object of his choice was widely different
from the first. Some wondered at his taste ; some

[ even ridiculed it — but in this their folly was more
apparent than his. The lady was about his own age —
i.e. between thirty and forty — remarkable neither for

| beauty, nor wealth, nor brilliant accomplishments ;
nor any other thing that I ever heard of, except
genuine good sense, unswerving integrity, active piety,
armhearted benevolence, and a fund of cheerful
pirits. These qualities, however, as you may readily
imagine, combined to render her an excellent mother
to the children, and an invaluable wife to his lordship.
He, with his usual self-depreciation, thought her a
world too good for him, and while he wondered at the
kindness of Providence in conferring such a gift upon
him, and even at her taste in preferring him to other
men, he did his best to reciprocate the good she did
him, and so far succeeded, that she was. and I believe
still is, one of the happiest and fondest wives in Eng-
land ; and all who question the good taste of either
partner, may be thankful if their respective selections
afford them half the genuine satisfaction in the end, or
repay their preference with affection half as lasting and
sincere,

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 449

If you are at all interested in the fate of that low
scoundrel, Grimsby, I can only tell you that he went
from bad to worse, sinking from bathos to bathos of vice
and villany, consorting only with the worst members
of his club and the lowest dregs of society— happily for
the rest of the world — and at last met his end in a
drunken brawl from the hands, it is said, of some
brother scoundrel he had cheated at play.

As for Mr Hattersley, he had never wholly forgotten
his resolution to 'come out from among them,' and
behave like a man and a Christian, and the last illness
and death of his once jolly friend Huntingdon so
deeply and seriously impressed him with the evil of
their former practices, that he never needed another
lesson of the kind. Avoiding the temptations of the
town, he continued to pass his life in the country,
immersed in the usual pursuits of a hearty, active,
country gentleman ; his occupations being those of
farming, and breeding horses and cattle, diversified
with a little hunting and shooting, and enlivened by
the occasional companionship of his friends (better
friends than those of his youth), and the society of his
happy little wife (now cheerful and confiding as heart
could wish), and his fine family of stalwart sons and
blooming daughters. His father, the banker, having
died some years ago and left him all his riches, he has
now full scope for the exercise of his prevailing tastes,
and I need not tell you that Ralph Hattersley, Esq.,
is celebrated throughout the country for his noble
breed of horses.

CHAPTER LI

WE will now turn to a certain still, cold, cloudy after-
noon about the commencement of December, when the
first fall of snow lay thinly scattered over the blighted
fields and frozen roads, or stored more thickly in the
hollows of the deep cart-ruts and footsteps of men and
horses impressed in the now petrified mire of last
month's drenching rains. I remember it well, for I
2 F

450 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

was walking home from the vicarage, with no less
remarkable a personage than Miss Eliza Millward by
my side. I had been to call upon her father, — a
sacrifice to civility undertaken entirely to please my
mother, not myself, for I hated to go near the house ;
not merely on account of my antipathy to the once so
bewitching Eliza, but because I had not half forgiven
the old gentleman himself for his ill opinion of Mrs
Huntingdon ; for though now constrained to acknow-
ledge himself mistaken in his former judgment, he
still maintained that she had done wrong to leave her
husband ; it was a violation of her sacred duties as a
wife, and a tempting of Providence by laying herself
open to temptation ; and nothing short of bodily ill-
usage (and that of no trifling nature) could excuse such
a step— nor even that, for in such a case she ought to
appeal to the laws for protection. But it was not of
him I intended to speak ; it was of his daughter Eliza.
Just as I was taking leave of the vicar, she entered the
room, ready equipped for a walk.

" I was just coming to see your sister, Mr Markham,"
said she ; " and so if you have no objection, Pll accom-
pany you home. I like company when I'm walking
out — don't you ? "

"Yes, when it's agreeable."

" That of course," rejoined the young lady, smiling
archly. So we proceeded together.

" Shall I find Rose at home, do you think?" said
she, as we closed the garden gate, and set our faces
towards Linden-car.

" I believe so."

" I trust I shall, for I've a little bit of news for her
— if you haven't forestalled me."

" I ? "

" Yes : do you know what Mr Lawrence is gone
for ? " She looked up anxiously for my reply.

" Is he gone ? " said I ; and her face brightened.

" Ah ! then he hasn't told you about his sister?"

' ' What of her ? " I demanded, in terror lest some
evil should have befallen her.

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 461

" Oh, Mr Markham, how you blush ! " cried she,
with a tormenting laugh. " Ha, ha, you have not
forgotten her yet ! But you had better be quick about
it, I can tell you, for — alas, alas ! — she's going to be
married next Thursday ! "

' No, Miss Eliza ! that's false."

' Do you charge me with a falsehood, sir ? "

' You are misinformed."

' Am I ? Do you know better then ? "

' I think I do."

' What makes you look so pale, then ? " said she,
smiling witli delight at my emotion. " Is it anger at
poor me for telling such a fib ? Well, I only ' tell the
tale as 'twas told to me ' ; I don't vouch for the truth
of it ; but at the same time, I don't see what reason
Sarah should have for deceiving me, or her informant
for deceiving her ; and that was what she told me the
footman told her : — that Mrs Huntingdon was going
to be married on Thursday, and Mr Lawrence was
gone to the wedding. She did tell me the name of
the gentleman, but I've forgotten that. Perhaps you
can assist me to remember it. Is there not some one
that lives near — or frequently visits the neighbour-
hood, that has long been attached to her? a Mr — oh

dear !— Mr "

" Hargrave ? " suggested I, with a bitter smile.
" You're right ! " cried she, " that was the very
name."

" Impossible, Miss Eliza ! " I exclaimed, in a tone
that made her start.

" Well, you know, that's what they told me," said
she, composedly staring me in the face. And then
she broke out into a long shrill laugh that put me
to my wits' end with fury.

" Really you must excuse me," cried she : " I know
it's very rune, but ha, ha, ha !— did you think to marry
her yourself? Dear, dear, what a pity ! ha, ha, ha ! —
Gracious, Mr Markham ! are you going to faint? <>
mercy ! shall I call this man ? Here, Jacob — " But
checking the word on her lips, I seized her arm and

452 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

gave it, I think, a pretty severe squeeze, for she
shrank into herself with a faint cry of pain or terror ;
but the spirit within her was not subdued : instantly
rallying, she continued, with well-feigned concern, —

" What can I do for you ? Will you have some
wat*er; some brandy ? — I dare say they have some in
the public house down there, if you'll let me run."

" Have done with this nonsense ! " cried I, sternly.
She looked confounded — almost frightened again, for a
moment. " You know I hate such jests," I continued.

' ' Jests indeed ! I wasn't jesting ! "

" You were laughing, at all events ; and I don't like
to be laughed at," returned I, making violent efforts
to speak with proper dignity and composure, and to
say nothing but what was coherent and sensible.
" And since you are in such a merry mood, Miss
Eliza, you must be good enough company for your-
self ; and therefore I shall leave you to finish your
walk alone — for, now I think of it, I have business
elsewhere ; so good evening."

With that I left her (smothering her malicious
laughter) and turned aside into the fields, springing
up the bank, and pushing through the nearest gap
in the hedge. Determined at once to prove the
truth — or rather the falsehood — of her story, I has-
tened to Woodford as fast as my legs would carry
me — first, veering round by a circuitous course, but
the moment I was out of sight of my fair tormentor,
cutting away across the country, just as a bird might fly
— over pasture-land and fallow, and stubble, and lane —
clearing hedges and ditches, and hurdles, till I came
to the young squire's gates. Never till now had I
known the full fervour of my love — the full strength
of my hopes, not wholly crushed even in my hours of
deepest despondency, always tenaciously clinging to
the thought that one day she might be mine — or if
not that, at least that something of my memory,
some slight remembrance of our friendship and our
love would be for ever cherished in her heart. I
marched up to the door, determined, if I saw the

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 453

master, to question him boldly concerning his sister,
to wait and hesitate no longer, but cast false delicacy
and stupid pride behind my back, and know my fate
at once.

" Is Mr Lawrence at home ? " I eagerly asked of the
servant that opened the door.

" No, sir, master went yesterday," replied he, look-
ing very alert.

"Went where?"

"To Grassdale, sir — wasn't you aware, sir? He's
very close, is master," said the fellow, with a foolish,
simpering grin. " I suppose, sir "

But I turned and left him, without waiting to hear
what he supposed. I was not going to stand there to
expose my tortured feelings to the insolent laughter
and impertinent curiosity of a fellow like that.

But what was to be done now ? Could it be possible
that she had left me for that man ? I could not believe
it. Me she might forsake, but not to give herself to
him ! Well, I would know the truth — to no concerns
of daily life could I attend, while this tempest of doubt
and dread, of jealousy and rage, distracted me. I

would take the morning coach from L (the evening

one would be already gone), and fly to Grassdale — I
must be there before the marriage. And why? Be-
cause a thought struck me, that perhaps I might
prevent it — that if I did not, she and I might both
lament it to the latest moment of our lives. It struck
me that some one might have belied me to her :
perhaps her brother, — yes, no doubt her brother had
persuaded her that I was false and faithless, and
taking advantage of her natural indignation, and
perhaps her desponding carelessness about her future
life, had urged her, artfully, cruelly on to this other
marriage in order to secure her from me. If this
was the case, and if she should only discover her
mistake when too late to repair it — to what a life of
misery and vain regret might she be doomed as well as
me ! and what remorse for me, to think my foolish
scruples had induced it all ! Oh, I must see her —

454 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

she must know my truth even if I told it at the church
door ! I might pass for a madman or an impertinent
fool, even she might be offended at such an interrup-
tion, or at least might tell me it was now too late —
but if I could save her ! if she might be mine — it was
too rapturous a thought !

Winged by this hope, and goaded by these fears, 1
hurried homewards to prepare for my departure on the
morrow. I told my mother that urgent business which
admitted no delay, but which I could not then explain,
called me away.

My deep anxiety and serious pre- occupation could
not be concealed from her maternal eyes ; and I had
much ado to calm her apprehensions of some disastrous
mystery.

That night there came a heavy fall of snow, which so
retarded the progress of the coaches on the following
day, that I was almost driven to distraction. I travelled
all night, of course, for this was Wednesday : to-morrow
morning, doubtless, the marriage would take place.
But the night was long and dark : the snow heavily
clogged the wheels and balled the horses' feet ; the
animals were consumedly lazy ; the coachmen most ex-
ecrably cautious ; the passengers confoundedly apathetic
in their supine indifference to the rate of our progres-
sion. Instead of assisting me to bully the several
coachmen and urge them forward, they merely stared
and grinned at my impatience : one fellow even ven-
tured to rally me upon it — but I silenced him with a
look that quelled him for the rest of the journey ; — and
when, at the last stage, I would have taken the reins
into my own hand, they all with one accord opposed it.

It was broad daylight when we entered M and

drew up at the Rose and Crown. I alighted and called
aloud for a post-chaise to Grassdale. There was none
to be had : the only one in the town was under repair.
" A gig then — a fly — car — anything — only be quick ! "
There was a gig, but not a horse to spare. I sent into
the town to seek one ; but they were such an intolerable
time about it that I eould wait no longer : I thought

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 455

my own feet could carry me sooner ; and bidding them
send the conveyance after me, if it were ready within
an hour, I set otf as fast as I could walk. The distance
was little more than six miles, but the road was strange,
and I had to keep stopping to inquire my way — hallooing
to carters and clod-hoppers, and frequently invading
the cottages, for there were few abroad that winter's
morning, — sometimes knocking up the lazy people from
their beds, for where so little work was to be done —
perhaps so little food and fire to be had, they cared not
to curtail their slumbers. I had no time to think of
them, however : aching with weariness and despera-
tion, I hurried on. The gig did not overtake me : and
it was well I had not waited for it — vexatious, rather,
that I had been fool enough to wait so long.

At length, however, I entered the neighbourhood of
Grassdale. I approached the little rural church — but
lo ! there stood a train of carriages before it — it needed
not the white favours bedecking the servants and horses,
nor the merry voices of the village idlers assembled to
witness the show, to apprise me that there was a wedding
within. I ran in among them, demanding, with breath-
less eagerness, had the ceremony long commenced?
They only gaped and stared. In my desperation, I
pushed past them, and was about to enter the church-
yard gate, when a group of ragged urchins, that had
been hanging like bees to the windows, suddenly dropped
off and made a rush for the porch, vociferating in the
uncouth dialect of their country, something which
signified, " It's over — they're coming out!"

If Eliza Millward liad seen me then, she might in-
deed have been delighted. I grasped the gate post for
support, and stood intently gazing towards the door to
take my last look on my soul's delight, my first on that
detested mortal who had torn her from my heart, and
doomed her, I was certain, to a life of misery and hollow,
vain repining — for what happiness could she enjoy with
him ? I did not wish to shock her with my presence
now, but I had not power to move away. Forth came
the bride and bridegroom. Him I saw not ; I had eyes

456 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

for none but her. A long veil shrouded half her
graceful form, but did not hide it ; I could see that
while she carried her head erect, her eyes were bent
upon the ground, and her face and neck were suffused
with a crimson blush ; but every feature was radiant
with smiles, and gleaming through the misty whiteness
of her veil, were clusters of golden ringlets ! Oh,
Heavens ! it was not my Helen ! The first glimpse
made me start — but my eyes were darkened with ex-
haustion and despair — dare I trust them ? Yes— it is
not she ! It was a younger, slighter, rosier beauty —
lovely, indeed, but with far less dignity and depth of
soul — without that indefinable grace, that keenly
spiritual yet gentle charm, that ineffable power to
attract and subjugate the heart — my heart at least. I
looked at the bridegroom — it was Frederick Lawrence !
I wiped away the cold drops that were trickling down
my forehead, and stepped back as he approached ; but
his eyes fell upon me, and he knew me, altered as my
appearance must have been.

"Is that you, Markham?" said he, startled and
confounded at the apparition — perhaps, too, at the
wildness of my looks.

" Yes — Lawrence — is that you ? " I mustered the
presence of mind to reply.

He smiled and coloured, as if half-proud and half-
ashamed of his identity ; and if he had reason to be
proud of the sweet lady on his arm, he had no less
cause to be ashamed of having concealed his good
fortune so long.

"Allow me to introduce you to my bride/' said he,
endeavouring to hide his embarrassment by an assump-
tion of careless gaiety. " Esther, this is Mr Markham ;
my friend Markham, Mrs Lawrence, late Miss Har-
grave."

I bowed to the bride, and vehemently wrung the
bridegroom's hand.

" Why did you not tell me of this ?" I said reproach-
fully, pretending a resentment I did not feel (for in
truth I was almost wild with joy to find myself so

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 467

happily mistaken, and overflowing with affection to
him for this and for the base injustice I felt that I had
done him in my mind — he might have wronged me,
but not to that extent ; and as 1 had hated him like a
demon for the last forty hours, the reaction from such
a feeling was so great, that I could pardon all offences
for the moment — and love him in spite of them too).

" I did tell you," said he, with an air of guilty con-
fusion ; " you received my letter?"

"What letter?"

"The one announcing my intended marriage."

" I never received the most distant hint of such an
intention."

" It must have crossed you on your way then — it
should have reached you yesterday morning — it was
rather late, I acknowledge. But what brought you
here then, if you received no information ? "

It was now my turn to be confounded ; but the
young lady, who had been busily patting the snow with
her foot during our short, sotto voce colloquy, very
opportunely came to my assistance by pinching her
companion's arm and whispering a suggestion that his
friend should be invited to step into the carriage and
go with them ; it being scarcely agreeable to stand
there among so many gazers, and keeping their friends
waiting, into the bargain.

" And so cold as it is too ! " said he, gazing with
dismay at her slight drapery, and immediately handing
her into the carriage. " Markham, will you comer
We are going to Paris, but we can drop you anywhere
between this and Dover."

" No, thank you. Good-bye — I needn't wish you a
pleasant journey ; but I shall expect a very handsome
apology, some time, mind, and scores of letters, before
we meet again."

He shook my hand, and hastened to take his place
beside his lady. This was no time or place for ex-
planation or discourse : we had already stood long
enough to excite the wonder of the village sight-
seers, and perhaps the wrath of the attendant bridal

458 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

party ; though, of course, all this passed in a much
shorter time than I have taken to relate, or even than
you will take to read it. I stood beside the carriage,
and, the window being down, I saw my happy friend
fondly encircle his companion's waist with his arm,
while she rested her glowing cheek on his shoulder,
looking the very impersonation of loving, trusting bliss.
In the interval between the footman's closing the door
and taking his place behind, she raised her smiling
brown face to his eyes, observing, playfully,—

" I fear you must think me very insensible,
Frederick : I know it is the custom for ladies to
cry on these occasions, but I couldn't squeeze a tear
for my life ! "

He only answered with a kiss, and pressed her still
closer to his bosom.

" But what is this ? " he murmured. " Why, Esther,
you're crying now ! "

" Oh, it's nothing — it's only too much happiness —
and the wish," sobbed she, " that our dear Helen were
as happy as ourselves."

' ' Bless you for that wish ! " J inwardly responded as
the carriage rolled away — "and Heaven grant it be
not wholly vain ! '

I thought a cloud had suddenly darkened her hus-
band's face as she spoke. What did he think ? Could
he grudge such happiness to his dear sister and his
friend as he now felt himself? At such a moment it
was impossible. The contrast between her fate and
his must darken his bliss for a time. Perhaps, too, he
thought of me : perhaps he regretted the part he had
had in preventing our union, by omitting to help us,
if not actually plotting against us — I exonerated him
from that charge, now, and deeply lamented my former
ungenerous suspicions ; but he had wronged us, still —
I hoped, I trusted that he had. He had not attempted
to check the course of our love by actually damming
up the streams in their passage, but he had passively
watched the two currents wandering through life's arid
wilderness, declining to clear away the obstructions

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 469

that divided them, and secretly hoping that both would
lose themselves iu the sand before they could be
joined in one. And meantime, he had been quietly
proceeding1 with his own affairs : perhaps, his heart
and head had been so full ot his fair lady that he had
had but little thought to spare for others. Doubtless
he had made his first acquaintance with her — his first
intimate acquaintance at least — during his three

mouths' sojourn at F , for I now recollected that

he had once casually let fall an intimation that his
aunt and sister had a young friend staying with them
at the time, and this accounted for at least one-half
his silence about all transactions there. Now, too, I
saw a reason for many little things that had slightly
puzzled me before ; among the rest, for sundry de-
partures from Wood ford, and absences more or less
prolonged, for which he never satisfactorily accounted,
and concerning which he hated to be questioned on
his return. Well might the servant say his master
was "very close." But why this strange reserve to
me ? Partly, from that remarkable idiosyncrasy to
which I have before alluded ; partly, perhaps, from
tenderness to my feelings, or fear to disturb my
philosophy by touching upon the infectious theme of
love.

CHAPTER LII

TIIK tardy gig had overtaken me at last. I entered it,
and bade the man who brought it drive to Grassdale
Manor — I was too busy with my own thoughts to care
to drive it myself. I would see Mrs Huntingdon —
there could be no impropriety in that now that her
husband had been dead above a year — and by her in-
difference or her joy at my unexpected arrival, I could
soon tell whether her heart was truly mine. But my
companion, a loquacious, forward fellow, was not dis-
posed to leave me to the indulgence of my private
cogitations.

460 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" There they go ! " said he, as the carriages filed
away before us. " There'll be brave doings on yonder
to-day, as what come to-morra. — Know anything of
that family, sir? or you're a stranger in these
parts ? "

" 1 know them by report."

" Humph ! There's the best of 'em gone, anyhow.
And I suppose the old missis is agoing to leave after
this stir's gotten overed, and take herself off, some-
where, to live on her bit of a jointure ; and the young
'un — at least the new 'un (she's none so very young)
is coming down to live at the Grove."

" Is Mr Hargrave married, then ? "

e< Aye sir, a few months since. He should a been
wed afore, to a widow lady, but they couldn't agree
over the money : she'd a rare long purse, and Mr
Hargrave wanted it all to his-self ; but she wouldn't
let it go, and so then they tell out. This one isn't
quite as rich — nor as handsome either, but she hasn't
been married before. She's very plain, they say, and
getting on to forty or past, and so, you know, if she
didn't jump at this hopportunity, she thought she'd
never get a better. I guess she thought such a hand-
some young husband was worth all 'at ever she had,
and he might take it and welcome ; but I lay she'll
rue her bargain 'afore long. They say she begins
already to see 'at he isn't not altogether that nice,
generous, perlite, delightful gentleman 'at she thought
him afore marriage — he begins a being careless, and
masterful already. Ay, and she'll find him harder
and carelesser nor she thinks on."

" You seem to be well acquainted with him," I
observed.

" I am, sir ; I've known him since he was quite a
young gentleman ; and a proud 'un he was, and a
wilful. I was servant yonder for several years ; but I
couldn't stand their niggardly ways — she got ever
longer and worse did missis, with her nipping and
screwing, and watching and grudging ; so J thought
I'd find another place."

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 461

" Are we not near the house?" said I, interrupting
him.

" Yes, sir ; yond's the park."

My heart sank within me to behold that stately
mansion in the midst of its expansive grounds — the
park as beautiful now, in its wintry garb, as it could
be in its summer glory : the majestic sweep, the un-
dulating swell and fall, displayed to full advantage in
that robe of dazzling purity, stainless and printless —
save one long, winding track left by the trooping deer
— the stately timber-trees with their heavy laden
branches gleaming white against the dull, grey sky ;
the deep, encircling woods ; the broad expanse of
water sleeping in frozen quiet ; and the weeping ash
and willow drooping their snow-clad boughs above it —
all presented a picture, striking, indeed, and pleasing
to an unencumbered mind, but by no means encourag-
to me. There was one comfort, however — all this was
entailed upon little Arthur, and could not under any
circumstances, strictly speaking, be his mother's. But
how was she situated ? Overcoming with a sudden
effort my repugnance to mention her name to my
garrulous companion, I asked him if he knew whether
her late husband had left a will, and how the property
had been disposed of. Oh, yes, he knew all about it ;
and I was quickly informed that to her had been left
the full control and management of the estate during
her son's minority, besides the absolute, unconditional
possession of her own fortune (but I knew that her
father had not given her much), and the small addi-
tional sum that had been settled upon her before
marriage.

Before the close of the explanation, we drew up at
the park gates. Now for the trial — if I should find
her within — but alas ! she might be still at Staningley :
her brother had given me no intimation to the con-
trary. 1 inquired at the porter's lodge if Mrs Hun-
tingdon were at home. No, she was with her aunt in

shire, but was expected to return before Christmas.

She usually spent most of her time at Staningley, only

462 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

coming to Grassdale occasionally, when the manage-
ment of affairs, or the interest of her tenants and
dependants required her presence.

" Near what town is Staningley situated ? " I asked.
The requisite information was soon obtained. " Now
then, my man, give me the reins, and we'll return to

M . I must have some breakfast at the Rose and

Crown, and then away to Staningley by the first coach
for

At M I had time before the coach started to

replenish my forces with a hearty breakfast, and to
obtain the refreshment of my usual morning's ab-
lutions, and the amelioration of some slight change in
my toilet, — and also to dispatch a short note to my
mother (excellent son that I was) to assure her that I
was still in existence, and to excuse my non-appearance
at the expected time. It was a long journey to Stan-
ingley for those slow travelling days ; but I did not
deny myself needful refreshment on the road, nor
even a night's rest at a way-side inn ; choosing rather
to brook a little delay than to present myself worn,
wild, and weatherbeaten before my mistress and her
aunt, who would be astonished enough to see me with-
out that. Next morning, therefore, I not only fortified
myself with as substantial a breakfast as my excited
feelings would allow me to swallow, but I bestowed a
little more than usual time and care upon my toilet ;
and, furnished with a change of linen from my small
carpet-bag, well brushed clothes, well polished boots,
and neat new gloves, — I mounted "The Lightning,"
and resumed my journey. I had nearly two stages yet
before me, but the coach, 1 was informed, passed
through the neighbourhood of Staningley, and, having
desired to be set down as near the Hall as possible, I
had nothing to do but to sit with folded arms, and
speculate upon the coming hour.

It was a clear, frosty morning. The very fact of
sitting exalted aloft, surveying the snowy landscape,
and sweet, sunny sky, inhaling the pure, bracing air,
and crunching away over the crisp, frozen snow, was

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 463

exhilarating enough in itself ; hut add to this the idea
of to what goal I was hastening, and whom I expected
to meet, and you may have some faint conception of
my frame of mind at the time — only a faint one,
though, for my heart swelled with unspeakable de-
light, and my spirits rose almost to madness, in spite
of my prudent endeavours to bind them down to a
reasonableplatitude by thinking of the undeniable
difference Between Helen's rank and mine ; of all that
she had passed through since our parting ; of her long,
unbroken silence ; and, above all, of her cool, cautious
aunt, whose counsels she would doubtless be careful
not to slight again. These considerations made my
heart flutter with anxiety, and my chest heave with
impatience to get the crisis over, but they could not
dim her image in my mind, or mar the vivid recollec-
tion of what had been said and felt between us — or
destroy the keen anticipation of what was to be — in
fact, I could not realise their terrors now. Towards
the close of the journey, however, a couple of my fellow
passengers kindly came to my assistance, and brought
me low enough.

" Fine land this," said one of them, pointing with
his umbrella to the wide fields on the right, conspicuous
for their compact hedge-rows, deep, well-cut ditches,
and fine timber-trees, growing sometimes on the
borders, sometimes in the midst of the enclosure ;
— " very fine land, if you saw it in the summer or
spring.'

" Aye/' responded the other — a gruff elderly man,
with a drab great coat buttoned up to the chin, and
a cotton umbrella between his knees. " It's old
Maxwell's, I suppose."

" It was his, sir, but he's dead now. you're aware, and
has left it all to his niece."

"All?"

" Every rood of it, — and the mansion-house and all,
— every hatom of his worldly goods ! — except just a
trifle, by way of remembrance to his nephew down
in shire and an annuity to his wife."

464 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" It's strange, sir ! "

" It is, sir. And she wasn't his own niece neither ;
but he had no near relations of his own — none but a
nephew he'd quarrelled with — and he always had a
partiality for this one. And then his wife advised him
to it, they say : she'd brought most of the property,
and it was her wish that this lady should have it."

te Humph ! — She'll be a fine catch for sombody."

" She will so. She's a widow, but quite young yet,
and uncommon handsome — a fortune of her own,
besides, and only one child — and she's nursing a fine

estate for him in . There'll be lots to speak for

her! — 'fraid there's no chance for uz" — (facetiously
jogging me with his elbow, as well as his companion)
— " ha, ha, ha ! No offence, sir, I hope ? " (to me)
" Ahem ! — I should think she'll marry none but a
nobleman, myself. Look ye, sir," resumed he, turning
to his other neighbour, and pointing past me with his
umbrella, " that's the hall — grand park, you see — and
all them woods — plenty of timber there, and lots of
game — hallo ! what now ? "

This exclamation was occasioned by the sudden
stoppage of the coach at the park gates.

" Gen'leman for Staningley Hall ? " cried the coach-
man ; and I rose and threw my carpet bag on to the
ground, preparatory to dropping myself down after it.

' ' Sickly, sir ? " asked my talkative neighbour, staring
me in the face (I dare say it was white enough).

"No. Here, coachman."

" Thank'ee, sir. — All right."

The coachman pocketed his fee and drove away,
leaving me not walking up the park, but pacing to
and fro before its gates, with folded arms and eyes
fixed upon the ground — an overwhelming force of
images, thoughts, impressions, crowding on my mind,
and nothing tangibly distinct but this : — My love had
been cherished in vain ; my hope was gone for ever ; I
must tear myself away at once, and banish or suppress
all thoughts of her like the remembrance of a wild,
mad dream. Gladly would I have lingered round the

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 465

place for hours, in the hope of catching, at least one
distant glimpse of her before I went, but it must not
be : I must not suffer her to see me ; for what could
have brought me hither but the hope of reviving her
attachment, with a view, hereafter to obtain her hand ?
And could I bear that she should think me capable of
such a thing ? — of presuming upon the acquaintance —
the love if you will, accidentally contracted, or rather
forced upon her against her will, when she was an
unknown fugitive, toiling for her own support, appar-
ently without fortune, family or connections — to come
upon her now, when she was reinstated in her proper
sphere, and claim a share in her prosperity, which,
had it never failed her, would most certainly have kept
her unknown to me for ever ? and this too, when we
had parted sixteen months ago, and she had expressly
forbidden me to hope for a re-union in this world —
and never sent me a line or a message from that day
to this ? No ! The very idea was intolerable.

And even if she should have a lingering affection for
me still, ought I to disturb her peace by awakening
those feelings ? to subject her to the struggles of con-
flicting duty and inclination — to whichsoever side the
latter might allure, or the former imperatively call
her — whether she should deem it her duty to risk the
slights and censures of the world, the sorrow and dis-
pleasure of those she loved, for a romantic idea of truth
and constancy to me, or to sacrifice her individual
wishes to the feelings of her friends and her own sense
of prudence and the fitness of things? No — and I
would not ! I would go at once, and she should never
know that 1 had approached the place of her abode ;
for though I might disclaim all idea of ever aspiring
to her hand, or even of soliciting a place in her
friendly regard, her peace should not be broken by my
presence, nor her heart afflicted by the sight of my
fidelity.

" Adieu then, dear Helen, for ever ! For ever
adieu ! "

So said I — and yet I could not tear myself away.
2 o

466 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

I moved a few pacesj and then looked back, for one
last view of her stately home, that I might have its
outward form, at least, impressed upon my mind as
indelibly as her own image, which alas ! I must not
see again — then, walked a few steps further ; and
then, lost in melancholy musings, paused again and
leant my back against a rough old tree that grew
beside the road.

CHAPTER LIII

WHILE standing thus, absorbed in my gloomy reverie,
a gentleman's carriage came round the corner of the
road. I did not look at it ; and had it rolled quietly
by me, I should not have remembered the fact of its
appearance at all ; but a tiny voice from within it
roused me by exclaiming, —

" Mamma, mamma, here's Mr Markham ! "
I did not hear the reply, but presently the same
voice answered, —

" It is, indeed, mamma — look for yourself."
I did not raise my eyes, but I suppose mamma
looked, for a clear, melodious voice, whose tones
thrilled through my nerves, exclaimed, —

" Oh, aunt ! here's Mr Markham— Arthur's friend !
—Stop, Richard ! "

There was such evidence of joyous though suppressed
excitement in the utterance of those few words- —
especially that tremulous, " Oh, aunt "—that it threw
me almost off my guard. The carriage stopped im-
mediately, and I looked up and met the eye of a pale,
grave, elderly lady surveying me from the open
window. She bowed and so did I, and then she with-
drew her head, while Arthur screamed to the footman
to let him out ; but before that functionary could
descend from his box, a hand was silently put forth
from the carriage window. I knew that hand, though
a black glove concealed its delicate whiteness and half
its fair proportions, and quickly seizing it I pressed it

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 467

in my own — ardently for a moment, but instantly
recollecting myself, I dropped it, and it was immedi-
ately withdrawn.

" Were you coming to see us, or only passing by ? "
asked the low voice of its owner, who, I felt, was
attentively surveying my countenance from behind the
thick, black veil which, with the shadowing panels,
entirely concealed her own from me.

" I — I came to see the place," faltered I.

" The place," repeated she, in a tone which be-
tokened more displeasure or disappointment than
surprise.

" Will you not enter it then?"

"If you wish it."

" Can you doubt ? "

" Yes, yes ! he must enter," cried Arthur, running
round from the other door ; and seizing my hand in
both his, he shook it heartily.

" Do you remember me, sir ? " said he.

" Yes, full well, my little man, altered though you
are," replied I, surveying the comparatively tall, slim
young gentleman with his mother's image visibly
stamped upon his fair, intelligent features, in spite of
the blue eyes beaming with gladness, and the bright
locks clustering beneath his cap.

" Am 1 not grown ? " said he, stretching himself up
to his full height.

" Grown ! three inches, upon my word ! "

"I was seven last birthday," was the proud re-
joinder. • * In seven years more, I shall be as tall as
you, nearly."

" Arthur," said his mother, " tell him to come in.
Go on, Richard."

There was a touch of sadness as well as coldness in
her voice, but I knew not to what to ascribe it. The
carriage drove on and entered the gates before us.
.My little companion led me up the park, discoursing
merrily all the way. Arrived at the hall door, I
paused on the steps and looked round me, waiting to
recover my composure, if possible — or, at any rate, to

468 THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL

remember my new formed resolutions and the principles
on which they were founded ; and it was not till Arthur
had been for some time gently pulling my coat, and
repeating his invitations to enter, that I at length con-
sented to accompany him into the apartment where the
ladies awaited us.

Helen eyed me as I entered with a kind of gentle,
serious scrutiny, and politely asked after Mrs Markham
and Rose. I respectfully answered her inquiries. Mrs
Maxwell begged me to be seated, observing it was
rather cold, but she supposed I had not travelled far
that morning.

" Not quite twenty miles," I answered.

"Not on foot!"

" No, madam, by coach."

" Here's Rachel, sir," said Arthur, the only truly
happy one amongst us, directing my attention to that
worthy individual, who had just entered to take her
mistress's things. She vouchsafed me an almost friendly
smile of recognition — a favour that demanded, at least,
a civil salutation on my part, which was accordingly
given and respectfully returned — she had seen the error
of her former estimation of my character.

When Helen was divested of her lugubrious bonnet
and veil, her heavy winter cloak, &c., she looked so
like herself that I knew not how to bear it. I was
particularly glad to see her beautiful black hair un-
stinted still and unconcealed in its glossy luxuriance.

" Mamma has left off her widow's cap in honour of
uncle's marriage," observed Arthur, reading my looks
with a child's mingled simplicity and quickness of
observation. Mamma looked grave and Mrs Maxwell
shook her head. " And aunt Maxwell is never going
to leave off hers," persisted the naughty boy ; but when
he saw that his pertness was seriously displeasing and
painful to his aunt, he went and silently put his arm
round her neck, kissed her cheek, and withdrew to the
recess of one of the great bay windows, where he
quietly amused himself with his dog while Mrs Max-
well gravely discussed with me the interesting topics

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 469

of the weather, the season, and the roads. I con-
sidered her presence very useful as a check upon my
natural impulses — an antidote to those emotions of
tumultuous excitement which would otherwise have
carried me away against my reason and my will, but
just then I felt the restraint almost intolerable, and 1
had the greatest difficulty in forcing myself to attend
to her remarks and answer them with ordinary polite-
ness ; for I was sensible that Helen was standing within
a few feet of me beside the fire. I dared not look at
her, but 1 felt her eye was upon me, and from one
hasty, furtive glance, I thought her cheek was slightly
flushed, and that her fingers, as she played with her
watch-chain, were agitated with that restless, trembling
motion which betokens high excitement.

" Tell me," said she, availing herself of the first
pause in the attempted conversation between her aunt
and me, and speaking fast and low with her eyes bent
on the gold chain — for I now ventured another glance.
— "Tell me how you all are at Lindenhope — has
nothing happened since I left you ? "

" I believe not."

"Nobody dead? nobody married?"

"No."

" Or — or expecting to marry ? — No old ties dissolved
or new ones formed ? no old friends forgotten or sup-
planted ? "

She dropped her voice so low in the last sentence
that no one qould have caught the concluding words
but myself, and at the same time turned her eyes upon
me with a dawning smile, most sweetly melancholy,
and a look of timid though keen inquiry that made my
cheeks tingle with inexpressible emotions.

" I believe not," I answered — " Certainly not, if
others are as little changed as I." Her face glowed in
sympathy with mine.

" And you really did not mean to call ? " she ex-
claimed.

" I feared to intrude."

" To intrude ! " cried she with an impatient gesture.

470 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

— " What " — but as if suddenly recollecting her aunt's
presence, she checked herself, and, turning to that
lady, continued — " Why, aunt, this man is my brother's
close friend and was my own intimate acquaintance (for
a few short months at least), and professed a great
attachment to my boy — and when he passes the house,
so many scores of miles from his home, he declines to
look in for fear of intruding ! "

" Mr Markham is over modest," observed Mrs
Maxwell.

' ' Over ceremonious, rather," said her niece — ' ' over
— well, it's no matter." And turning from me, she
seated herself in a chair beside the table, and, pulling
a book to her by the cover, began to turn over the
leaves in an energetic kind of abstraction.

"If I had known," said I, "that you would have
honoured me by remembering me as an intimate
acquaintance, I most likely should not have denied
myself the pleasure of calling upon you, but I thought
you had forgotten me long ago."

" You judged of others by yourself," muttered she
without raising her eyes from the book, but reddening
as she spoke, and hastily turning over a dozen leaves
at once.

There was a pause, of which Arthur thought he
might venture to avail himself to introduce his hand-
some young setter, and show me how wonderfully it
was grown and improved, and to ask after the welfare
of its father Sancho. Mrs Maxwell then withdrew to
take off her things. Helen immediately pushed the
book from her, and after silently surveying her son,
his friend, and his dog for a few moments, she dismissed
the former from the room under pretence of wishing
him to fetch his last new book to show me. The child
obeyed with alacrity ; but I continued caressing the
dog. The silence might have lasted till its master's
return had it depended on me to break it, but, in half
a minute or less, my hostess impatiently rose, and,
taking her former station on the rug between me and
the chimney corner, earnestly exclaimed —

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 471

" Gilbert, what is the matter with you ? — why are you
so changed ? — It is a very indiscreet question, I know,"
she hastened to add : " perhaps a very rude one— don't
answer it if you think so — but I hate mysteries and
concealments."

" 1 am not changed, Helen — unfortunately I am as
keen and passionate as ever — it is not I, it is circum-
stances that are changed."

" What circumstances? Do tell me!" Her cheek
was blanched with this very anguish of anxiety — could
it be with the fear that I had rashly pledged my faith
to another ?

" I'll tell you at once," said I. " I will confess
that I came here for the purpose of seeing you (not
without some monitory misgivings at my own presump-
tion, and fears that 1 should be as little welcome as
expected when I came), but I did not know that this
estate was yours, until enlightened on the subject of
your inheritance by the conversation of two fellow
passengers in the last stage of my journey ; and then,
1 saw at once the folly of the hopes 1 had cherished and
the madness of retaining them a moment longer ; and
though I alighted at your gates, I determined not to
enter within them ; I lingered a few minutes to see the
place, but was fully resolved to return to M with-
out seeing its mistress."

" And if my aunt and I had not been just returning
from our morning drive, I should have seen and heard
no more of you?"

" I thought it would be better for both that we should
not meet," replied I, as calmly as I could, but not
daring to speak above my breath, from conscious in-
ability to steady my voice, and not daring to look in
her face lest my firmness should forsake me altogether:
l< 1 thought an interview would only disturb your peace
and madden me. But I am glad, now, of this oppor-
tunity of seeing you once more and knowing that you
have not forgotten me, and of assuring you that I shall
never cease to remember you."

There was a moment's pause. Mrs Huntingdon

472 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

moved away, and stood in the recess of the window.
Did she regard this as an intimation that modesty
alone prevented me from asking her hand ? and was
she considering how to repulse me with the smallest
injury to my feelings ? Before I could speak to relieve
her from such a perplexity, she broke the silence her-
self by suddenly turning upon me and observing —

" You might have had such an opportunity before — as
far, I mean, as regards assuring me of your kindly recol-
lections, and yourself of mine, if you had written to me."

' ' I would have done so, but I did not know your
address, and did not like to ask your brother, because
I thought he would object to my writing — but this
would not have deterred me for a moment, if I could
have ventured to believe that you expected to hear
from me, or even wasted a thought upon your unhappy
friend ; but your silence naturally led me to conclude
myself forgotten."

" Did you expect me to write to you then ? "

" No, Helen — Mrs Huntingdon," said I, blushing at
the implied imputation, ' ' certainly not ; but if you had
sent me a message through your brother, or even asked
him about me now and then "

' ' I did ask about you frequently. I was not going
to do more," continued she, smiling, " so long as you
continued to restrict yourself to a few polite inquiries
about my health."

"Your brother never told me that you had mentioned
my name."

" Did you ever ask him ? "

" No ; for I saw he did not wish to be questioned
about you, or to afford the slightest encouragement or
assistance to my too obstinate attachment." Helen
did not reply. " And he was perfectly right," added
1. But she remained in silence, looking out upon
the snowy lawn. "Ob, I will relieve her of my
presence," thought I ; and immediately I rose and
advanced to take leave, with a most heroic resolution
. — but pride was at the bottom of it, or it could not
/have carried me through.

THE TENANT OF W1LDFELL HALL 473

" Are you going already ? " said she, taking the
hand I offered, and not immediately letting it go.

" Why should I stay any longer? "

" Wait till Arthur comes, at least."

Only too glad to obey, I stood and leant against the
opposite side of the window.

" You told me you were not changed," said my
companion : " you are — very much so."

"No, Mrs Huntingdon, J only ought to be."

" Do you mean to maintain that you have the same
regard for me that you had when last we met ? "

" I have ; but it would be wrong to talk of it now."

" It was wrong to talk of it then, Gilbert : it would
not now — unless to do so would be to violate the
truth."

I was too much agitated to speak ; but, without
waiting for an answer, she turned away her glistening
eye and crimson cheek, and threw up the window
and looked out, whether to calm her own excited
feelings or to relieve her embarrassment, or only to
pluck that beautiful half-blown Christmas rose that
grew upon the little shrub without, just peeping
from the snow that had hitherto, no doubt, defended
it from the frost, and was now melting away in the
sun. Pluck it, however, she did, and having gently
dashed the glittering powder from its leaves, approached
it to her lips and said, — _

''This rose is not so fragrant as a summer flower, L
but it has stood through hardships none of them could
lu'ar : the cold rain of winter has sufficed to nourish it, I
and its faint sun to warm it ; the bleak winds have
not blanched it or broken its stem, and the keen
frost has not blighted it. Look, Gilbert, it is still
fresh and blooming as a flower can be, with the cold
snow even now on its petals. — Will you have it?"

I held out my hand : I dared not speak lest my
emotion should overmaster me. She laid the rose
across my palm, but I scarcely closed my fingers upon
it, so deeply was I absorbed in thinking what might
be the meaning of her words, and what I ought to

474 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

do or say upon the occasion ; whether to give way
to my feelings or restrain them still. Misconstruing
this hesitation into indifference — or reluctance even
— to accept her gift, Helen suddenly snatched it from
my hand, threw it out on to the snow, shut down the
window with an emphasis, and withdrew to the fire.

" Helen ! what means this ? " I cried, electrified at
this startling change in her demeanour.

" You did not understand my gift/' said she — " or,
what is worse, you despised it : I'm sorry I gave it to
you ; but since I did make such a mistake, the only
remedy I could think of, was to take it away."

" You misunderstood me, cruelly," I replied, and
in a minute I had opened the window again, leaped
out, picked up the flower, brought it in, and presented
it to her, imploring her to give it me again, and I would
keep it for ever for her sake, and prize it more highly
than anything in the world I possessed.

" And will this content you ? " said she, as she took
it in her hand.

" It shall," I answered.

" There, then ; take it."

I pressed it earnestly to my lips, and put it in my
bosom, Mrs Huntingdon looking on with a half-
sarcastic smile.

' ' Now, are you going ? " said she.

" I will if— if I must."

" You are changed," persisted she — " you are grown
either very proud or very indifferent."

" I am neither, Helen — Mrs Huntingdon. If you
could see my heart "

" You must be one, — if not both. And why Mrs
Huntingdon ! — Why not Helen, as before ? "

" Helen, then — dear Helen ! " I murmured. I was
in an agony of mingled love, hope, delight, uncer
tainty, and suspense.

" The rose I gave you was an emblem of my heart,"
said she ; " would you take it away and leave me
here alone ? "

" Would you give me your hand too, if I asked it ?"

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 475

" Have I not said enough ?" she answered, with a
most enchanting smile. 1 snatched her hand, and
would have fervently kissed it, but suddenly checked
myself and said, —

" But have you considered the consequences ? "

" Hardly, I think, or I should not have offered
myself to one too proud to take me, or too indifferent
to make his affection outweigh my worldly goods."

Stupid blockhead that I was ! — I trembled to clasp
her in my arms, but dared not believe in so much joy,
and yet restrained myself to say, —

" But if you should repent ! "

" It would be your fault," she replied : " I never
shall, unless you bitterly disappoint me. If you have
not sufficient confidence in my affection to believe this,
let me alone."

" My darling angel — my own Helen," cried I, now
passionately kissing the hand I still retained, and
throwing my left arm around her, " you never shall
repent, if it depend on me alone. But have you
thought of your aunt?" I trembled. for the answer,
and clasped her closer to my heart in the instinctive
dread of losing my new-found treasure.

" My aunt must not know of it yet," said she. " She
would think it a rash wild step, because she could not
imagine how well I know you ; but she must know you
herself, and learn to like you. You must leave us now,
after lunch, and come again in spring, and make a
longer stay, and cultivate her acquaintance, and I
know you will like each other."

" And then you will be mine," said I, printing a kiss
upon her lips, and another, and another ; for I was as
daring and impetuous now as I had been backward
and constrained before.

" No — in another year," replied she, gently disen-
gaging herself from my embrace, but still fondly
clasping my hand.

" Another year ! Oh, Helen, I could not wait so
long ! "

" Where is your fidelity ? "

476 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

" I mean I could not endure the misery of so long a
separation."

" It would not be a separation : we will write every
day ; my spirit shall he always with you, and some-
times you shall see me with your bodily eye. I will
not be such a hypocrite as to pretend that I desire to
wait so long myself, but as my marriage is to please
myself alone, I ought to consult my friends about the
time of it."

" Your friends will disapprove."

"They will not greatly disapprove, dear Gilbert,"
said she, earnestly kissing my hand; "they cannot,
when they know you, or, if they could, they would not
be true friends — I should not care for their estrange-
ment. Now are you satisfied ? " She looked up in my
face with a smile of ineffable tenderness.

" Can I be otherwise, with your love? And you
do love me, Helen?" said I, not doubting the
fact, but wishing to hear it confirmed by her own
acknowledgment.

" If you loved as I do," she earnestly replied, ' ' you
would not have so nearly lost me — these scruples of
,false delicacy and pride would never thus have troubled
''you — you would have seen that the greatest worldly
{distinctions and discrepancies of rank, birth, and for-
'tune are as dust in the balance compared with the
i unity of accordant thoughts and feelings, and truly
loving, sympathizing hearts and souls."

" But this is too much happiness," said I, embracing
her again ; " I have not deserved it, Helen — I dare
not believe in such felicity : and the longer I have to
wait, the greater will be rny dread that something will
intervene to snatch you from me — and think, a
thousand , things may happen in a year ! — I shall
be in one long fever of restless terror and impatience
all the time. And besides, winter is such a dreary
season."

" I thought so too," replied she gravely : " I would
not be married in winter — in December, at least,"
she added, with a shudder — for in that mouth had

THE TENANT OF WIJLDFELL HALL 477

occurred both the ill-starred marriage that had
bound her to her former husband and the terrible
death that released her — " and therefore I said another
year, in spring."

" Next spring ! "

" No, no — next autumn . perhaps."

"Summer, then."

" Well, the close of summer. There now ! be
satisfied."

While she was speaking, Arthur re-entered the room
— good boy for keeping out so long.

" Mamma, I couldn't find the book in either of the
places you told me to look for it," (there was a conscious
something in mamma's smile that seemed to say, " No,
dear, I knew you could not/') " but Rachel got it for
me at last. Look, Mr Markham, a natural history with
all kinds of birds and beasts in it, and the reading as
nice as the pictures ! "

In great good humour, I sat down to examine the
book, and drew the little fellow between my knees.
Had he come a minute before, I should have received
him less graciously, but now I affectionately stroked
his curling locks, and even kissed his ivory forehead :
he was my own Helen's son, and therefore mine ; and
as such I have ever since regarded him. That pretty
child is now a fine young man : he has realised his
mother's brightest expectations, and is at present
residing in Grassdale manor with his young wife, the
merry little Helen Hattersley of yore.

I had not looked through half the book, before Mrs
Maxwell appeared to invite me into the other room to
lunch. That lady's cool, distant manners rather chilled
me at first ; but I did my best to propitiate her, and
not entirely without success, I think, even in that first
short visit ; for when I talked cheerfully to her, she
gradually became more kind and cordial, and when I
departed she bade me a gracious adieu, hoping ere long
to have the pleasure of seeing me again.

" But you must not go till you have seen the con-
servatory, my aunt's winter garden," said Helen, as I

478 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

advanced to take leave of her, with as much philosophy
and self-command as I could summon to my aid.

I gladly availed myself of such a respite, and
followed her into a large and beautiful conservatory,
plentifully furnished with flowers considering the
season — but, of course, I had little attention to spare
for them. It was not, however, for any tender colloquy
that my companion had brought me there : —

" My aunt is particularly fond of flowers," she
observed, " and she is fond of Staningley too : I
brought you here to offer a petition in her behalf, that
this may be her home as long as she lives, and — if it
be not our home likewise — that I may often see her
and be with her ; for I fear she will be sorry to lose
me ; and though she leads a retired and contemplative
life, she is apt to get low-spirited if left too much
alone."

"By all means, dearest Helen ! — do what you will
with your own. I should not dream of wishing your
aunt to leave the place under any circumstances ; and
we will live either here or elsewhere as you and she
may determine, and you shall see her as often as you
like. I know she must be pained to part with you,
and I am willing to make any reparation in my power.
I love her for your sake, and her happiness shall be as
dear to me as that of my own mother."

" Thank you, darling ! you shall have a kiss for
that. Good bye. There now — there, Gilbert — let me
go — here's Arthur, don't astonish his infantile brain
with your madness."

******

But it is time to bring my narrative to a close — any
one but you would say I had made it too long already ;
but for your satisfaction, I will add a few words more ;
because I know you will have a fellow-feeling for the
old lady, and will wish to know the last of her history.
I did come again in the spring, and, agreeably to
Helen's injunctions, did my best to cultivate her
acquaintance. She received me very kindly, having
been, doubtless, already prepared to think highly of

THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL 479

my character, by her niece's too favourable report.
I turned my best side out, of course, and we got along
marvellously well together. When my ambitious in-
tentions were made known to her, she took it more
•ensibly than I had ventured to hope. Her only re-
mark on the subject, in my hearing, was —
- " And so, Mr Markham, you are going to rob me of
my niece, I understand. Well ! I hope God will
prosper your union, and make my dear girl happy at
last. Could she have been contented to remain single,
I own I should have been better satisfied ; but if she
must marry again, I know of no one, now living and
of a suitable age, to whom I would more willingly
resign her than yourself, or who would be more likely
to appreciate her worth and make her truly happy, as
imr as 1 can tell."

, Of course I was delighted with the compliment, and
hoped to show her that she was not mistaken in her
favourable judgment.

[i i" I have, however, one request to offer," continued
He. " It seems 1 am still to look on Staningley as
my home : I wish you would make it yours likewise,
for Helen is attached to the place and to me — as I am
ftp her. There are painful associations connected with
iGrassdale, which she cannot easily overcome ; and I
•hall not molest you with my company or interference
mere : I am a very quiet person, and shall keep my
fcwn apartments, and attend to my own concerns, and
only >(•(• you now and then."

Of course I most readily consented to this ; and we
lived in the greatest harmony with our dear aunt until
the day of her death, which melancholy event took
*laoe a few years after — melancholy, not to herself
•pr it came quietly upon her, and she was glad to
reach her journey's end), but only to the few loving
friends and grateful dependents she left behind.

To return, however, to my own affairs : I was married
in summeV, jpn a glorious August morning. It took
the whole eight months, and all Helen's kindness and
goodness to boot, to overcome my mother's prejudices

480 THE TENANT OF WILDFELL HALL

against my bride elect, and to reconcile her to the
idea of my leaving Linden Grange and living so far
away. Yet she was gratified at her son's good fortune
after all, and proudly attributed it all to his own j
superior merits and endowments. I bequeathed the
farm to Fergus, with better hopes of its prosperitj
than I should have had a year ago under similar cir«
cumstances ; for he had lately fallen in love with th«

vicar of L 's eldest daughter, a lady, wh(

superiority had roused his latent virtues, and stimi
lated him to the most surprising exertions, not onlj
to gain her affection and esteem, and to obtain
fortune sufficient to aspire to her hand, but to rendf
himself worthy of her, in his own eyes, as well as ir
those of her parents ; and in the end he was successful,
as you already know. As for myself, I need not tell
you how happily my Helen and I have lived together,
and how blessed we still are in each other's society,
and in the promising young scions that are growing up
about us. We are just now looking forward to the
advent of you and Rose, for the time of your annual
visit draws nigh, when you must leave your dusty,
smoky, noisy, toiling, striving city for a season of
invigorating relaxation and social retirement with us. »

Till then, farewell,

GILBERT MARKHAM. I

Staningley, June 10th, 1847.

THE END

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