MR JAMES GILLAN MEETS HIS UNCLE
THE white sun was sinking lower in the west, above the valley at the
foot of Lindum hill, when Mr Lee rose from his chair in his private
apartment to welcome the nephew who was shown into his room. It was the
first time, in the course of their mutual lives, that the nephew had
set foot in his uncle’s house.
An abode of wealth! and yet there were few signs of riches in the
scantily furnished, bare, and matted room, beneath whose windows, in
grey, shining haze, lay the extensive prospect of the valley beneath
the town. A hard room, full of unornamental book-cases, with one small
table, severely erect and square, and on that a heavy desk, a solid
inkstand, some piles of papers, a pen-wiper, and a purse. The eyes of
the nephew wandered to these things before he accepted the hand held
out to him; and it was not until he was seated, and his mind was more
composed, that he ventured to raise his glance to his uncle’s face. It
was not often that he was agitated, but then this interview meant so
much to him!
Mr Lee, on his part, had found no difficulty in surveying his visitor
with a steady gaze; though even for him there was a little agitation,
displayed in the colour that mounted in his face. Perhaps the sight of
his sister’s son affected him, the sister towards whom he had been
unforgiving, and who was dead; or perhaps he almost repented the
relenting that had induced him to send to his nephew and demand an
interview. His original refusal to see his young relations for a while
had been so firm, had been so uncompromising! and yet for once he had
actually changed his mind, not only before winter, but even before
autumn came. Some feeling of curiosity may have prompted him, or some
remonstrance of the Squire who was his friend, or the fact that during
the last month he had been ill, and that he was a lonely man, and that
his wealth had no heir. Whatever the cause, his change of action was
now a fact, for here before him was the young man, his sister’s son.
At such moments the first glance counts for a good deal; indeed, the
impression it leaves is of almost unfair importance, for it is often
difficult afterwards for our sober, solid, reason to counteract its
influence. Mr Lee saw before him a young man, tall and slender, with a
delicate face into which a nervous colour stole; with drooping eyelids,
and thin, fine, hair, a delicate complexion, and nervous, parted lips.
A graceful figure, a face not without charm, an attire refined and
carefully arranged; the most hostile adversaries, speaking honestly,
could not have been bold enough to deny these advantages. They might
have denied that the gentle-featured face gave the smallest indication
of steadfast principles, but then we are not accustomed to look
for unwavering resolution in the countenance of a young man of
three-and-twenty years. And it is certain that in the course of
a wandering life Mr James Gillan had gained an appearance of
good-breeding; the son of a wandering actor, he had yet acquired
refinement, and had the look and the words of a gentleman. This
appearance, moreover, was intensified by the attractiveness of a
gentle, pleasing face; and a quiet manner, which was a positive relief
to the uncle who had seen his sister’s books and songs. And yet the old
man, a keen and shrewd observer, was not altogether satisfied, in spite
of his relief.
A contrast himself!--Mr Lee was not refined or pleasing, but his grey
eyes were clear and bright beneath his brows, and every line of his
harsh, rugged face was graved with a decision that almost rose to
power. A passionate face, but with passion well-subdued, a face
untender, proud, and illiterate, not softened by love, not refined by
education, not enlarged by wide views, and general sympathy. The son of
a grocer, a dealer in provisions, then a general merchant of large and
wide success, he had pursued an honoured and industrious career, and
had retired from business a respected, wealthy man. The unfortunate
circumstances attending his early marriage had debarred him from
the most softening influences of life; though, with the want of
refinement that characterised his words, he had made into his favourite
joke that long-past tale. That was the man! he could keep a promise
honourably, indeed with a scrupulous honour that rose to chivalry; but
no delicate tact, such as sensitive natures own, would hinder him from
boasting of a promise he had kept. Not parsimonious, but not at all
luxurious, he had not the least love for society and its ways, and his
establishment at the top of Lindum Hill was conducted with the utmost
simplicity, though not penuriously. In the house with him were only his
favourite attendant--a dark-faced, under-sized, active boy--an old
woman who was his housekeeper and cook, and her husband, who had been
his coachman many years. The cathedral bells chimed at a little
distance from the house; beneath it lay the valley in endless lights
and shades; and Mr Lee, though but little impressed by sight or sound,
made himself comfortable, and was content. Only sometimes the
remembrance of his conduct to his sister affected him with a slight
sensation of remorse; and he had been lately ill, and still was feeble,
and he was solitary, and his riches had no heir. These various reasons,
acting on each other, had produced the change in his purpose which we
have seen--he had written to his nephew to ask for an interview, and
now was receiving him at his own request. No such very great change
after all, but Mr Lee was always accustomed to cling to all purposes
with tenacity.
If in the mind of the young man close to him, who sat with his eyelids
down-cast, waiting humbly for him to speak, there was being waged a
conflict, more uncertain, more terrible, the uncle at any rate saw no
signs of it. For the contest between our love and our ambition lies low
in our heart, out of reach of human eyes; and the supreme moments in
which the fight is hottest pass on without observation from the world.
James Gillan gave only one sudden, stifled gasp, as if he had found
that there was no air in the room; and then, with his head inclined and
his fingers loosely clasped, sat waiting to hear what his companion had
to say. For--‘So you have come here, sir,’ said Mr Lee, ‘that’s as it
should be, since I have to speak with ye.’