HOW BESSY PRYOR WAS BANISHED TO NORMANDY.
There was nothing for it but to go, after the interview described in the
last chapter. Mrs. Miles sent a message to the obstinate girl, informing
her that she need not any longer consider herself as a prisoner, but
that she had better prepare her clothes so as to be ready to start
within a week. The necessary correspondence had taken place between
Launay and Avranches, and within ten days from the time at which Mr.
Gregory had made the proposition,--in less than a fortnight from the
departure of her lover,--Bessy came down from her room all equipped, and
took her place in the same waggonette which so short a time before had
taken her lover away from her. During the week she had had liberty to go
where she pleased, except into her aunt’s room. But she had, in truth,
been almost as much a prisoner as before. She did for a few minutes each
day go out into the garden, but she would not go beyond the garden into
the park, nor did she accept an invitation from the Gregory girls to
spend an evening at the rectory. It would be so necessary, one of them
wrote, that everything should be told to her as to the disposition and
ways of life of Aunt Amelia! But Bessy would not see the Gregory girls.
She was being sent away from home because of the wickedness of her love,
and all Launay knew it. In such a condition of things she could not go
out to eat sally-lunn and pound-cake, and to be told of the delights of
a small Norman town. She would not even see the Gregory girls when they
came up to the house, but wrote an affectionate note to the elder of
them explaining that her misery was too great to allow her to see any
friend.
She was in truth very miserable. It was not only because of her love,
from which she had from the first been aware that misery must
come,--undoubted misery, if not misery that would last through her whole
life. But now there was added to this the sorrow of absolute banishment
from her aunt. Mrs. Miles would not see her again before she started.
Bessy was well aware of all that she owed to the mistress of Launay;
and, being intelligent in the reading of character, was aware also that
through many years she had succeeded in obtaining from the old woman
more than the intended performance of an undertaken duty. She had forced
the old woman to love her, and was aware that by means of that love the
old woman’s life had been brightened. She had not only received, but had
conferred kindness,--and it is by conferring kindness that love is
created. It was an agony to her that she should be compelled to leave
this dearest friend, who was still sick and infirm, without seeing her.
But Mrs. Miles was inexorable. These four words written on a scrap of
paper were brought to her on that morning:--“Pray, pray, see me!” She
was still inexorable. There had been long pencil-written notes between
them on the previous day. If Bessy would pledge herself to give up her
lover all might yet be changed. The old woman at Avranches should be
compensated for her disappointment. Bessy should be restored to all her
privileges at Launay. “You shall be my own, own child,” said Mrs. Miles.
She condescended even to promise that not a word more should be said
about Mr. Morrison. But Bessy also could be inexorable. “I cannot say
that I will give him up,” she wrote. Thus it came to pass that she had
to get into the waggonette without seeing her old friend. Mrs. Knowl
went with her, having received instructions to wait upon Miss Bessy all
the way to Avranches. Mrs. Knowl felt that she was sent as a guard
against the lover. Mrs. Miles had known Bessy too well to have fear of
that kind, and had sent Mrs. Knowl as general guardian against the wild
beasts which are supposed to be roaming about the world in quest of
unprotected young females.
In the distribution of her anger Mrs. Miles had for the moment been very
severe towards Philip as to pecuniary matters. He had chosen to be
rebellious, and therefore he was not only turned out of the house, but
told that he must live on an uncomfortably small income. But to Bessy
Mrs. Miles was liberal. She had astounded Miss Gregory by the nobility
of the terms she had proposed, and on the evening before the journey had
sent ten five-pound notes in a blank envelope to Bessy. Then in a
subsequent note she had said that a similar sum would be paid to her
every half-year. In none of these notes was there any expression of
endearment. To none of them was there even a signature. But they all
conveyed evidence of the amount of thought which Mrs. Miles was giving
to Bessy and her affairs.
Bessy’s journey was very comfortless. She had learned to hate Mrs.
Knowl, who assumed all the airs of a duenna. She would not leave Bessy
out of sight for a moment, as though Philip might have been hidden
behind every curtain or under every table. Once or twice the duenna
made a little attempt at persuasion herself: “It ain’t no good, miss,
and it had better be give up.” Then Bessy looked at her, and desired
that she might be left alone. This had been at the hotel at Dover. Then
again Mrs. Knowl spoke as the carriage was approaching Avranches: “If
you wish to come back, Miss Bessy, the way is open.” “Never mind my
wishes, Mrs. Knowl,” said Bessy. When, on her return to Launay, Mrs.
Knowl once attempted to intimate to her mistress that Miss Bessy was
very obstinate, she was silenced so sternly, so shortly, that the
housekeeper began to doubt whether she might not have made a mistake and
whether Bessy would not at last prevail. It was evident that Mrs. Miles
would not hear a word against Bessy.
On her arrival at Avranches Miss Gregory was very kind to her. She found
that she was received not at all as a naughty girl who had been sent
away from home in order that she might be subjected to severe treatment.
Miss Gregory fulfilled all the promises which her brother had made on
her behalf, and was thoroughly kind and good-tempered. For nearly a
month not a word was said about Philip or the love affairs. It seemed to
be understood that Bessy had come to Avranches quite at her own desire.
She was introduced to the genteel society with which that place abounds,
and was conscious that a much freer life was vouchsafed to her than she
had ever known before. At Launay she had of course been subject to Mrs.
Miles. Now she was subject to no one. Miss Gregory exercised no
authority over her,--was indeed rather subject to Bessy, as being
recipient of the money paid for Bessy’s board and lodging.
But by the end of the month there had grown up so much of friendship
between the elder and the younger lady, that something came to be said
about Philip. It was impossible that Bessy should be silent as to her
past life. By degrees she told all that Mrs. Miles had done for her; how
she herself had been a penniless orphan; how Mrs. Miles had taken her in
from simple charity; how love had grown up between them two,--the
warmest, truest love; and then how that other love had grown! The
telling of secrets begets the telling of secrets. Miss Gregory, though
she was now old, with the marks of little feeble crow’s-feet round her
gentle eyes, though she wore a false front and was much withered, had
also had her love affair. She took delight in pouring forth her little
tale; how she had loved an officer and had been beloved; how there had
been no money; how the officer’s parents had besought her to set the
officer free, so that he might marry money; how she had set the officer
free, and how, in consequence, the officer had married money and was now
a major-general, with a large family, a comfortable house, and the gout.
“And I have always thought it was right,” said the excellent spinster.
“What could I have done for him?”
“It couldn’t be right if he loved you best,” said Bessy.
“Why not, my dear? He has made an excellent husband. Perhaps he didn’t
love me best when he stood at the altar.”
“I think love should be more holy.”
“Mine has been very holy,--to me, myself. For a time I wept; but now I
think I am happier than if I had never seen him. It adds something to
one’s life to have been loved once.”
Bessy, who was of a stronger temperament, told herself that happiness
such as that would not suffice for her. She wanted not only to be happy
herself, but also to make him so. In the simplicity of her heart she
wondered whether Philip would be different from that easy-changing
major-general; but in the strength of her heart she was sure he would be
very different. She would certainly not release him at the request of
any parent;--but he should be free as air at the slightest hint of a
request from himself. She did not believe for a moment that such a
request would come; but, if it did,--if it did,--then there should be no
difficulty. Then would she submit to banishment,--at Avranches or
elsewhere as it might be decided for her,--till it might please the Lord
to release her from her troubles.
At the end of six weeks Miss Gregory knew the whole secret of Philip and
Bessy’s love, and knew also that Bessy was quite resolved to persevere.
There were many discussions about love, in which Bessy always clung to
the opinion that when it was once offered and taken, given and received,
it ought to be held as more sacred than any other bond. She owed much to
Mrs. Miles;--she acknowledged that;--but she thought that she owed more
to Philip. Miss Gregory would never quite agree with her;--was strong in
her own opinion that women are born to yield and suffer and live
mutilated lives, like herself; but not the less did they become fast
friends. At the end of six weeks it was determined between them that
Bessy should write to Mrs. Miles. Mrs. Miles had signified her wish not
to be written to, and had not herself written. Messages as to the
improving state of her health had come from the Gregory girls, but no
letter had as yet passed. Then Bessy wrote as follows, in direct
disobedience to her aunt’s orders:
“Dearest Aunt,--I cannot help writing a line because I am so
anxious about you. Mary Gregory says you have been up and out on
the lawn in the sunshine, but it would make me so happy if I could
see the words in your own dear handwriting. Do send me one little
word. And though I know what you told me, still I think you will be
glad to hear that your poor affectionate loving Bessy is well. I
will not say that I am quite happy. I cannot be quite happy away
from Launay and you. But Miss Gregory has been very, very kind to
me, and there are nice people here. We live almost as quietly as at
Launay, but sometimes we see the people. I am reading German and
making lace, and I try not to be idle.
“Good-bye, dear, dearest aunt. Try to think kindly of me. I pray
for you every morning and night. If you will send me a little note
from yourself it will fill me with joy.”--Your most affectionate
and devoted niece,
BESSY PRYOR.”
This was brought up to Mrs. Miles when she was still in bed, for as yet
she had not returned to the early hours of her healthy life. When she
had read it she at first held it apart from her. Then she put it close
to her bosom, and wept bitterly as she thought how void of sunshine the
house had been since that gleam had been turned away from it.