HARRY'S VIEW.
Of all the people who discussed his affairs and were interested in his
prosperity, Harry Vernon himself would have agreed most entirely with
Catherine. He had no very elevated ideal either of life in general or
even of love, though that influenced him at the present moment very
powerfully. He had got to be "very fond," as he would himself have
described it, of Hester. He thought her very pretty to begin with, very
delightful, attractive, and amusing--the sort of girl with whom life
never would be dull. He thought her clever, one who would be able to
manage his now somewhat too large and unwieldy house and take the
trouble off his hands; he thought that handsomely dressed, as of course
she would be, she would look very nice at the head of his table and make
it popular--better even than Ellen had done: for in Ellen's time it had
been somewhat fast and noisy, more than Harry, with the instincts of a
respectable citizen and man of business, felt to be advantageous, though
he had enjoyed it well enough. In all these particulars he felt that his
affections were leading him wisely, and that not merely love--always
avowedly more or less folly--but discrimination and sense were in his
choice. But he would have thought Catherine perfectly right about the
advantages on Hester's side, and he would not have been disgusted or
offended by the suggestion that Mrs. John had schemed to place her
daughter in the White House, and done her best not to let such an
eligible suitor slip through her hands. And quite right too, he would
have said! He knew that he would be "a catch" for Hester, and that as
she was no fool, it was inconceivable that she should not jump at him.
This idea did not offend him at all; that she should marry him because
he could give her rank which otherwise she would not have, was a
natural, sensible, perfectly legitimate reason to Harry. Had there been
a rival in the field with greater things to offer, he would have felt
that he had a right to pause, to think what was most to her advantage.
But as there was nobody, he thought probably that Hester would be a
great fool if she made any difficulty. Catherine had offended herself
and offended Edward by her suggestion, but she would not have offended
Harry. "That is about it--that is the true state of the case," he would
have said. And it is possible that he might have represented that
notwithstanding the fact that she had no money, Hester would not be an
altogether bad investment; for she had connections. Mrs. John might be a
silly little woman, but she was Sir John Westwood's cousin, and a little
more backing up from the county people would do the Vernons no harm.
Thus he took a very common-sense view of the whole concern, thinking it
perfectly reasonable that Mrs. John should scheme, and that Hester
should consider the advantages. He thought even that she had probably
calculated the uses of holding back, and that her expeditions with the
old captain, her disappearances at the time of his own visits, were done
with a distinct intention of drawing a fellow on. It made him very
angry, especially as matters came to a crisis, to find her absent, and
only Mrs. John, very nervous and apologetic, waiting for him when he
went in: but after the first bitterness of the disappointment, he was
ready to allow that it was good policy, and that he was all the more
anxious in the pursuit because she thus played with him and kept him in
uncertainty. If Hester had but known that she was supposed to be
"drawing him on" by her absences! but fortunately she did not know. And
nothing could have made them understand each other on that point. They
belonged to two different species, and talked different languages. But
the superficial explanation which Catherine was ashamed of herself for
giving, and which Edward despised, would have seemed quite natural to
Harry, though in many ways he was better than they were, and far more
true to his own system of morality. He neither hid nor deceived, he did
not cheat himself nor any one else; and truth is so precious that even a
low matter-of-fact truth is better than half a falsehood, however
delicately and cleverly carried out. Harry was all genuine throughout,
not elevated in kind, but never pretending to be what he was not. He
liked to think that he had a great many advantages to bestow, and that
the lady of his hopes had too much good sense not to take these
advantages into consideration. This was different from wild impulse and
passion, which some people think finer things. But Harry did not think
so; he knew nothing indeed about them. He considered that a man (and on
the other side perhaps an heiress) might "please his fancy," in the
first place, about his wife, before thinking of other matters: but that
the girl should weigh the advantages, and strain a point to accept a
good offer, was as clear to him as daylight. It would not in the
smallest degree have vexed him to know that his own claims were thus
reasonably weighed. He had the proud satisfaction of thinking that
Hester was not very likely to get such another offer; and he felt
sufficient confidence in her good sense to be sure that this must have
its just influence upon her. Why should not it weigh with her? She was
"no fool." She could not but see on which side the advantage lay.
The only thing was that he got tired of waiting for the decision. He
thought it unreasonable that having so honourably and unequivocally
displayed his intentions, he should not be allowed to carry them out.
Summer began to wane and autumn to come on, and yet he had never been
able to speak to the object of his affections. At last his patience
failed him altogether. He announced his mind to Mrs. John almost with
solemnity. "I can't go on much longer," he said; "the servants worry me
to death. Ellen always took that sort of thing off my hands. But I don't
want Ellen to get in her nose again and spoil my wife's chances when she
does come. The truth is, I should like to get married before Christmas,
if I am to be married at all. Why should Hester hold me off and on? If
she won't have me, let her say so, and I can look elsewhere. I don't
think I should have much difficulty in finding--" he concluded, his
annoyance going off in a half-smile of vanity as he caressed his light
moustache.
A shiver ran through Mrs. John. Before Christmas! Even if Hester would
consent at all, was it possible that her reluctance could be overpowered
so soon, or that she should be made to acquiesce in Harry's quite
practical and matter-of-fact view. "No doubt you want a lady in the
house," she said, sympathetically. "I am sure if I could be of any
use----"
"Oh yes, of course you could be of use," said the straightforward lover,
"after we are married; but it would be making a laughing-stock of
ourselves if I were to have you before. If there was any reason for
putting off I might wait, but I don't see any reason. Once it's settled,
we could make our arrangements comfortably. It is being hung up like
this from week to week which is such a nuisance to me."
He went away that evening almost angry. What was to be done? Mrs. John's
natural instinct was to "talk to" Hester; but she had learned by
experience that "talking to" is not a very effectual instrument. All
that she had been able to say had been said, but without much apparent
effect. She had pointed out all the advantages. She had shown, with
tears in her eyes, what a change it would be--what an unspeakable,
delightful difference. Insensibly to herself, Mrs. John had become
eloquent upon the charms, if not of Harry, at least of the White House.
But this had suddenly been brought home to her by her remorseless child,
who said calmly, "Mother, if I could marry the house and let you have
it, I would do so in a moment," which stopped Mrs. John's mouth.
"Marry the--house!" she said, with a surprised cry.
"It is of the house you are talking. I know it is nice--or at least I
know you like it. I do not care for it myself."
"Oh, Hester, my first married home!"
"Yes, mother, I know. I wish I could get it for you--on easier terms,"
the girl said, with a sigh. And this was about all that ever came of
talking to her. She was very obstinate: and such a strange girl.
But sometimes Providence, so much appealed to--whom we upbraid for not
furthering us and backing up our plans--suddenly did interfere. It was
entirely by chance, as people say. Mrs. John had gone out of the room
not two minutes before, and Hester, who had been walking and had just
come in, stood before the old-fashioned dark mirror which occupied the
space between the windows, arranging her hair, which had been blown
about by the wind. It was, as has been said, troublesome hair--so full
of curls that the moment it had a chance it ran out of the level and
orderly into rings and twists, which were quite unfashionable in those
days. It had been loosened out by the wind, and she was trying to coax
it back into its legitimate bondage, with her arms raised to her head,
and her back turned to the door. Harry came in without knocking, and the
first intimation Hester had that the long-avoided moment had come, and
that there was no escape for her, was when she saw his large form in the
glass, close to her, looming over her, his fair head above hers, looking
down with admiration and tenderness upon her image. She turned round
hastily, with a cry of astonishment, her rebellious locks escaping from
her hands.
"Why shouldn't you let it stay so? It is very pretty so," Harry said,
looking at the curly mass with a smile, as if he had a great mind to
take a lock of it in his fingers.
Hester sprang away from him, and twisted it up, she did not know how.
"It is so untidy--there is so much wind." She was angry with herself for
apologising. It was he who ought to have apologised. She pushed the hair
away behind her ears, and got it fastened somehow. "I did not hear you
knock," she said.
"I fear I didn't knock. The verandah door was open. I saw nobody about.
I did not know whether I should find any one. You are so often out now."
"Yes, I walk with old Captain Morgan about this time. In the morning I
am always at home."
"If I had known that I should have come in the morning," he said, "not
regularly because of the bank, but I should have come once to see you.
However, this is far better. I am so glad to find you. I have wished for
this for months past. Has it never occurred to you that I was anxious to
see you, Hester? You looked to me as if you were keeping away."
"Why should I keep away? I do always the same thing at the same hour.
Captain Morgan is old--he requires to have somebody with him."
"And I--I am young, and I want somebody with me."
"Oh, it does not matter about young people," Hester said.
"I think it matters most of all, because they have their life before
them; and, don't you know, the choice of a companion tells for so
much----"
"A companion!--oh, that is quite a different question," said Hester. "It
is teaching I have always wanted, never a companion's place."
"I have heard of that," said Harry. "When you were quite a little thing
you wanted to teach, and Aunt Catherine would not let you.
You--teaching! It would have been quite out of the question. Won't you
sit down? Do come for once, now that I have found you, and sit down
here."
It was the little old-fashioned settee that was indicated, where there
was just room for two.
"Oh, I have got things to do!" cried Hester, in alarm. "My mother will
be here immediately, but I--have got something up stairs----"
"Always when I come," he said. "Just once, because I am here, listen to
me, Hester. It won't take very long. I think you use me very ill. You
know I come here for you, and you will never let me see you. And now
when I find you by chance, you insist that you have something to do.
Leave it till to-morrow. Perhaps after to-morrow," said Harry, in a
lugubrious voice, "I may not be coming any more."
"Is anything to happen to-morrow?" said Hester, betrayed by his seeming
gravity.
Then Harry cheered up again, and became more at his ease.
"Not," he said, "if something should happen to-night. That's what I
wish--that something should happen now. Sit down, please, and listen.
Don't you know, Hester--they say women always know--that I've been in
love with you ever so long?"
"No, I don't know anything about it," said Hester, though a sudden flush
came over her face.
She had seated herself on the sofa in a kind of desperation, fearing
that he meant to place himself beside her. And such had been Harry's
intention; but some dim sense of fitness moved him to depart from this
portion of his programme. He stood before her instead, looking down upon
her, feeling now that he had it all in his own hands.
"It is true, though. What do you suppose I have been coming here for
every night? I _think_ I've been in love with you ever since I first saw
you--when you were only a child. Now I'm alone since my sister is
married, and quite free to choose where I like. He made a pause, but
Hester did not say anything. She sat drawing patterns upon the carpet
with her foot, listening--because she could not help it. She who was so
full of eagerness and life, it seemed to Harry as if every line of her
figure expressed the listlessness of a subject that wearied her. Now
this was more than a fellow could stand, although even now he felt that
it drew him on. "By Jove!" he cried, "one would think you were getting
offers every day of your life."
She looked up at him with a brightening countenance.
"No," she said. "If this is an offer, Cousin Harry, it is the first I
have ever had."
"And you think no more of it than that!" he cried, with most natural
feeling, flinging himself down in a low wicker-work chair at her feet,
so that he made it shake and tremble. This restored Hester once more to
herself. She began to be amused, which, in the dull life she was
leading, told for so much.
"How should I take it? I don't know, indeed, for I never was in the
circumstances before. It is true I have read about it in books," said
Hester, considering. "A girl in a novel would say that it was a great
honour you had done her, Cousin Harry," for he showed signs of natural
impatience, jumping up and pacing noisily about the room. "Don't you see
it is very difficult. You make a statement to me about your own state of
mind, and then you look as if you expected something from me; but what
am I to say? I am not in love with you--or anybody," Hester added
quietly, as if by an after-thought.
He was coming towards her, with his lips apart ready to speak; but this
quiet little additional word seemed to stop in a moment what he was
going to say. He did not quite know how, nor did she know, whether she
meant anything by it; but it had an immediate effect. He gave a gasp as
if those arrested words almost choked him, then said, "Nor anybody?"
suddenly. It had seemed certain to him before that: she never could have
seen any one, and she had informed him that this was her first "offer";
nevertheless he took these words--having them thrown at him, as it were,
in a surprise--as a great concession. He drew a long breath, and said--
"Then, Hester, there is the more chance for me."
Thus in a moment their relative positions were changed. Harry had begun
by feeling that he had a great deal to bestow--many things which no girl
in her senses could neglect or reject. But in a moment he had been
reduced to what in chivalry should be a lover's only standing-ground,
the right of telling his love with or without response, waiting
absolutely upon his lady's pleasure, hoping for her bounty--no more. He
was so carried away by this new impulse that he did not understand
himself, or the change worked in him; but with a gasp as for breath,
turned from the nineteenth-century version of love-making to the
primitive one, not knowing what he did.
"I don't know," said Hester. "Perhaps; I cannot tell. I don't know
anything about it; and, if I must tell you the truth, Cousin Harry, I
don't wish to know. It seems to me that all that is silly between you
and me. You can come here as often as you like: my mother is always glad
to see you. We are all very good friends. What advantage do you think
there would be in turning everything upside down--in making a great fuss
and disturbance and changing all our relations? I cannot see what object
there is in it. I think we are much better to stay as we are."
"But I don't think so," said Harry stoutly. "If you're going to argue
about it, I never was good at that sort of thing, and you might easily
beat me. But _I_ don't think so. I don't care about being good friends.
I want you to belong to me, to live with me, you and your mother too.
Why! we might go on as we are doing for a hundred years, and we never
could be of any use to each other----"
Here Hester stopped him with raised hand and gesture. "Oh, yes, a great
deal of use. To be friends is about the best thing in the world----"
"Not half so good," cried Harry, "as being man and wife! My house might
all be at sixes and sevens, and you could not help me to manage it,
living here; and you would never let me be of any use to you. Don't you
see? if we were married I could give you everything you wanted, it would
be natural. We should get on together, I know. I should never grudge you
anything, and your mother could come back to her old home, and I should
see to her comfort too. Whereas here, living as we are, what can I
do?--or you for me?" said Harry. "Ah! that's all nonsense about being
friends. It isn't your friend I want to be."
"What you say is very curious to me," said Hester. "There is a great
deal that is very fine in it, Cousin Harry. To offer to give me all that
is very nice of you, and I should like to help you to manage your house.
I have often thought I should like to try--very likely I should not
succeed, but I should like to try."
"It is the easiest thing in the world," he said with a smile that was
tender, and touched Hester's heart. "As soon as ever you marry me----"
"But the preliminary is just what I don't like," said Hester. "I would
rather not marry--any one. I don't see the need for it. We are very well
as we are, but we don't know what a new state of things might do for
us."
"I know," said Harry, "what it would do for me. It would make me very
happy and comfortable at home, which I am not now. It would settle us
both in life. A young fellow is thought nothing of till he is married.
He may go off to the bad at any time, he may take a wrong turn; and in
business he is never relied upon in the same way. When he has a wife he
has given hostages to society, they say--that is what it would do for
me. Except being richer and better off, and able to make your mother
comfortable, and so forth, I can't say, of course, what it would do for
you."
"Nor I either," she said gravely. "All these things would be very good:
but it might make me into something I shouldn't like. I feel afraid of
it. I have no inclination to it, but all the other way."
"By Jove!" said Harry, which was an exclamation he never used save when
very hard bested, "that is not very complimentary to me."
"Did you wish me to pay you compliments? No; we are arguing out the
general question," said Hester, with her serious face.
Harry was at his wits' end with impatience and provokedness, if we may
use such a word. He could have seized her with his hands and shaken her,
and yet, all the time, he was still conscious that this strange
treatment drew a fellow on.
"I suppose all this means that you won't have me?" he said, after a
pause.
"I think so, Cousin Harry. I am not satisfied that it would do us any
good; but don't rush away in a temper," she said, laying her hand
lightly on his arm. "Don't be vexed; why should you? I don't mean to vex
you. If I don't see a thing in the same light as you do, that is no
reason why you should be angry."
"By Jove!" said Harry again, "if a man is not to be vexed when he's
refused, I wonder what you think he's made of?--not flesh and blood."
"Sense," said Hester, "and kindness. These are things you are made of,
whether you are angry or not."
She had risen up, and stood looking at him, as he turned round hastily
and made for the door; but this flattery (if it was flattery) stopped
him. He turned round again and stood looking at her, tantalised,
provoked, soothed, not knowing what to say.
"If you think all that of me, why won't you have me?" he said,
stretching out wistful hands towards her.
Hester shook her head.
"I don't want to have--any one," she said.
Mrs. John had been listening on the stairs. Not listening--she was too
far off to hear a word--but waiting for the indications which a step, a
sound of movement, the opening of a door, might give. The stair was an
old oaken one at the end of the passage, hidden in the evening dimness;
dark at any time even in the day. When the door did open at last, though
it did so with a little jar as from an agitated hand, yet two voices
came out, and the sound of their conversation was not angry, nor like
that of people who had quarrelled. But, on the other hand, it was not
low like the talk of lovers; and Mrs. John could not conceive it
possible that if he had been accepted Harry would have left the house
without seeing her. That was impossible. Either nothing had been said on
the subject, or else-- But what else? She was confounded, and could not
tell what to think. Hester went out with him to the verandah door. It
was she who did most of the talking. She called out to him something
that sounded like "Don't be long of coming back," as he went out. Mrs.
John by this time had hurried out of the staircase, and rushed to a
window whence she could see him departing. He turned round and waved his
hand, but he also shook his head with a look more completely lover-like
than Mrs. John had yet seen him cast at her child. It was full of tender
reproach, yet pleasure, disappointment, but also something that was far
from despair. "It is all very well for you to say so," he said. What did
it mean? Mrs. John hurried down when he had disappeared, tingling with
curiosity and anxiety. She found Hester sitting in the twilight quite
unoccupied, her hands in her lap, her eyes gazing straight before her.
Nothing could be more unlike her usual dislike to idleness. She was
lying back on the settee, thinking, not even asking for lights. Mrs.
John stole to her in the gathering darkness and gave her a sudden kiss.
The mother was tremulous and shaken, the daughter very calm.
"Oh, Hester! what has happened? Have you accepted him?" said Mrs. John:
"have you refused him? What has been going on? Now it is over, you might
let me know."
"I am just trying to think, mother," Hester said.