GOOD RESOLUTIONS
BEFORE Aylmer Matheson's talk with Miss Stapleton, he had intended to
remain at home and alone during the evening. Afterwards he decided to
go, for the third time that day, to the Hall. He was deeply impressed
by the grasp Hetty had taken of Kathleen's position and his own, and
thankful too, for the friendship of one whose feminine instincts
enabled her so to divine the working of another girl's feelings.
"It is true," thought Aylmer, "that either man or woman working alone
works at a disadvantage. Each wants the mind and the varying nature
of the other to ensure success, especially in all that relates to the
most sacred ties and duties, ay, and affections of humanity. Hetty has
opened my eyes to many things that I should never have noticed until
they were manifest to all. And whilst warning me, she has cheered and
strengthened me wonderfully."
It was no small satisfaction to the housekeeper at Westhill that Aylmer
did justice to his evening meal, and left the house half an hour
afterwards, humming a favourite air.
When Aylmer entered the drawing-room at the Hall, he made a half
apology for his appearance.
"I have been here twice before, Kathleen," he said. "Once you were out,
the second time you were resting, so, as Mrs. Ellicott and I pretty
well exhausted all topics of conversation whilst Miss Stapleton was
here, I must be considered your special visitor to-night. Ought I to
apologize for haunting this home at all hours? If so, I shall plead my
loneliness and weariness of my own society."
It was a relief to Kathleen to hear Aylmer speak in this tone. She had
dreaded his coming, lest their meeting should result in a lecture.
"We have met before, to-day," she replied, "but I am very glad to see
you now. Aunty and I are so constantly together, that she must find it
a relief to hear another voice than mine, when even poor Ger is unable
to turn our duet into a trio."
Aylmer made no direct reply to Kathleen's allusion to their earlier
meeting, but asked after Geraldine, talked of Hetty Stapleton, and
lastly, challenged his ward to a game at chess.
Kathleen readily agreed. She was on her best behaviour, and full of
good resolutions, after what had passed. She felt the comfort of having
acted on her aunt's advice, and her softened manner again cheered both
Mrs. Ellicott and Aylmer.
The two were soon deep in the game. They were keen players and pretty
equally matched, Kathleen having been her father's pupil, and an
apt one, from her childish days. On this occasion the girl proved
victorious. Just as the "mate" passed from her lips and a little smile
of triumph lighted her face, Mrs. Ellicott was called from the room.
"I am fairly beaten, Kathleen," said Aylmer, "but ready to meet you
again, in spite of that triumphant look of yours."
"Surely a girl may be allowed to rejoice in her victory over such a
champion," replied Kathleen, as they replaced the pieces ready for the
next game.
"I do not grudge you your success. Your excellent play deserved it, and
I could not be beaten by a fairer adversary."
Kathleen lifted her eyes to Aylmer's with a merry glance, but she
dropped them instantly before his. The man's heart was stirred to its
utmost depths, and overflowing with tenderest affection for his wilful
ward. And Kathleen read the story of it in the look he gave her. A
moment after she spoke hurriedly and with some appearance of confusion,
as if, too, she dreaded that Aylmer's tongue might become as eloquent
as his eyes.
"I am glad aunty is away for a few minutes," she said; "I wanted
to speak to you about—about—this morning. You met me with Captain
Torrance."
"Yes. I was surprised to find that he had returned, as I have no doubt
you were, when you saw him."
"Not exactly, though when I started on my walk I had no idea he was at
Monk's How. In fact, he only came home last night. On my way I met his
groom, who gave me a letter which he was bringing here for me."
It was unfortunate that Aylmer did not wait until Kathleen had finished
what she had to tell.
"Surely Captain Torrance had not the impertinence to ask you to meet
him?" he exclaimed, in a tone which almost startled the girl.
With quiet dignity she answered, "I should have thought you knew me
better than to suppose I should regard such an invitation in any light
but that of an insult. Yet, seeing me afterwards in company with
Captain Torrance, you must have concluded that I not only received the
invitation, but accepted it."
What would not Aylmer have given to recall his words? He began to
speak, but Kathleen did not seem to heed him. She walked across to the
letter-rack, in which Mrs. Ellicott had placed the note in question,
and returning, handed it to Aylmer.
"Read Captain Torrance's note, if you please," she said.
"I do not wish to read it, Kathleen. When I saw you with him, I never
for an instant supposed that the meeting was other than an accidental
one. And just now I never meant to insinuate blame as regards yourself."
"Perhaps not," replied Kathleen, in a tone which conveyed the idea that
she was weary of the whole affair. "But I must beg you to read this
letter, which justifies the writer. For myself, I think I shall soon be
equally indifferent to praise or blame."
There was no anger in the girl's manner, but it stung Aylmer to the
quick.
"I have pained Kathleen needlessly, and injured my own cause by my
impatience," he thought. "And yet how sternly have I played the part of
judge towards others for impetuosity of temper!"
He read the letter, then returned it to Kathleen.
"I have wronged Torrance as well as you," he said. "I beg your pardon,
though, believe me, I did not attach blame to you when we met this
morning. I hope I shall have an opportunity of apologising to Torrance."
"No, no, Aylmer, please let the matter rest. I am quite satisfied,
and you must see that it would not be pleasant for me, if you treated
this simple affair so seriously. I should not like my name to be even
mentioned again. I told aunty all about it, and how he met me at
Crosspaths Corner, and walked back with me. That was all."
"You are right, Kathleen. Your name ought not to be brought up again.
As to the letter. It is creditable to John Torrance, and the reading
of it stirred my sympathy, as I am sure it would yours. He may have
been and is much to blame in many respects, but he is also much to be
pitied."
Kathleen's eyes filled at these words.
"It is like you, Aylmer, to be both just and generous," she said. "When
you turned round so sharply just now, I could hardly believe it was my
wise and patient guardian. Well, you have blamed and judged yourself,
so there is no need for me to say another word on that side. Now I am
going to confess."
Then Kathleen told Aylmer exactly what had passed between Captain
Torrance and herself as they met him in the morning, and what had given
rise to the laugh which had so pained him at the time.
"I was a little wilful, as usual, but I told Captain Torrance, what I
would say to all the world about you, Aylmer, that you are my guardian
and my good, true friend, not my jailer."
"You make me very happy by saying this."
"How could I speak otherwise of you? Besides, I never can bear to hear
people run down behind their backs, much less those I—I—care a great
deal about. I felt like this, though not in the same way, of course,
when aunty, after reading that letter, would not say a single kind word
for the man who had written it. Not like you, Aylmer. You can be just
to people who are not at all perfect."
"Thank you again, Kathleen. Your opinion of my justice is very
comprehensive. It takes in all the world, for who is perfect?"
"That is just what I so often ask myself, by way of gaining comfort
from the thought. It seems almost treason to say this, Aylmer, but
don't you sometimes find that very good people, like aunty, for
instance, are just a little hard on those who are exposed to far
greater temptations than themselves? It ought to be easier to do right
when every one is anxious to help you. Stay, though, I should not say
that," added Kathleen, before Aylmer had time to speak. "Every one
wants to help me, yet I try, and fail again and again. I failed this
morning. I was horribly angry and rude, because I thought aunty was
very unjust to poor Captain Torrance. She will not believe there is a
bit of good in him. So I got into a temper, said disagreeable things,
then ran upstairs and shut myself in my room, and cried till I fell
asleep, like a cross child tired with its own passion. I punished
myself, for Hetty came, and I had been longing to see her, and I missed
seeing you, though as you came this evening, that has made up for it."
"And shall I add what you have not told me? You were honestly sorry for
having grieved your aunt, and did your best to make amends. I knew by
both your faces that there had been a little storm, but peace-making
and sunshine had followed. And you made good resolutions, I doubt not.
I pray, with all my heart, that you may have God's blessing upon them,
and His strength to enable you to keep them, Kathleen."
When he was taking leave at a later hour than usual, Kathleen said—
"It was good of you to come to-night, Aylmer, and how quickly the time
has flown! But for your kindness in walking here for the third time
to-day, I should have spent much of the evening alone. Geraldine wanted
only quiet, so I could be of no use to her. Aunt has had calls, as
usual, for somebody is always coming with a tale of trouble which she
only can relieve. Fancy what my feelings would have been, for I do not
care for too much of my own society."
"I cannot fancy yours, Kathleen. I know that I could not have too much
of your society, though I, too, weary of my own often enough."
Kathleen laughed and blushed at the compliment. But she did not dislike
it, and when her "grave, wise guardian," for the first time since he
had held that office, lifted her shapely hand to his lips, before he
said good night, she only thought to herself, "He is growing more like
what he was in the old days. How good he was to me when I was quite a
little creature, and he was so tall and strong! To think that, when I
was eight, he carried me on his shoulder, and when my mother died, only
my father seemed more to me than Aylmer was. I sometimes wish he had
never been my guardian, for the idea of having to take care of me made
him ever so much older. I have been a great trouble both to him and
aunty, but I hope I shall repay them yet. I wish Aylmer were my real
brother."
A wish which the subject of it would certainly not have echoed.
Kathleen went to Geraldine's room after Aylmer left the house, and
found her cousin much better.
"Nearly well, Kitty," she said, in answer to loving inquiries. "The
rest has done so much for me, and a quiet night will complete the cure."
"Not sufficiently so to allow of your driving with me to Mellingham,
I am afraid, so I shall put off going. I can send a telegram to Miss
Pritchard, to say I will be there a day later, instead of to-morrow."
"Don't do that, Kitty. It would be certain to inconvenience her, by
upsetting her arrangements for the week. You know how particular you
are in expecting that she will keep her promises about the delivery of
articles ordered by you, and surely it is fair that we should keep our
engagements."
"In a way it is; but of course Miss Pritchard will have plenty of other
work. It will only mean finishing some one else's gown instead of mine,
and if she is as much pressed with orders as she usually professes to
be, the change may help her. You know my dresses are never a success,
unless you are with me at the choosing and fitting of them."
"I think I shall be well enough to go with you. At any rate, do not
send the telegram until I know," said Ger. "I am going to sleep as soon
as possible now, and mean to 'pay attention to it,' as my old nurse
used to say children ought always to do."
Kathleen went to her room in an unusually happy frame of mind, at peace
with all the world.
After the excitement of the morning and afternoon, the calm that
followed had been very welcome. Aylmer had been delightful, as a
whole. If he had uttered one sharp sentence, what did it matter? It
only made him seem more akin to Kathleen herself, since she was always
saying sharp things, and being sorry afterwards. "If only I were half
as good as Aylmer!" she thought. Then the girl asked herself whether
the greater self-restraint she had been enabled to exercise could have
resulted from that longing cry for help which had gone from her heart
to God, after the talk with Mrs. Ellicott? Could this sense of peace
within, and of love and goodwill to all around her, be another result
of her pleading "in real earnest," though only that once? If so, she
must go again and again, and in the same spirit.
Kathleen was deeply sensible of the difference between her ordinary
prayers, and the cry which went up from her very soul that day. It was
a new experience and a sweet one, and it led her to think how vast, how
far-reaching must be the Divine love which had been waiting to bless,
to pardon, and to cheer her, as soon as these mercies were asked for,
because they were really wanted.
The following morning proved bright and pleasant. Geraldine came down
to breakfast, with no trace of illness, except that she was paler
than usual, and professed herself ready to share Kathleen's drive and
shopping expedition.
"I hope you are not going without feeling fit for the journey, Ger,"
said Kathleen. "It would be so easy to send a telegram."
"I am really fit. I shall enjoy the drive, which involves no fatigue,
and I shall have the further satisfaction of seeing all the pretty
winter things, without feeling it my duty to spend money which I cannot
spare at present."
"Sometimes I wonder what you do with your money, Ger, for though you
are beautifully dressed and look far better than I do, you spend much
less."
Geraldine laughed, and replied, "You do not know my special
extravagances, Kitty. I have several, but I conceal them, that you may
not be influenced by my spendthrift tastes. Believe me, dear, I am not
hoarding. In fact, I am on the verge of bankruptcy, and counting how
long it will be before quarter-day will replenish my purse."
"I'll lend you some when we get to Mellingham."
"I will not borrow, Kitty. The debt would be a debt all the same, if
even you were my creditor;" and Geraldine left the room to prepare for
her drive.
Mrs. Ellicott remained at home to write letters. Kathleen was ready
first, and, as usual, went to the door as soon as she heard the sound
of the horses' feet on the gravel, that she might pet the pretty
animals, and give each some lumps of sugar. She spoke to Mountain, and
praised the horses, but obtained only the shortest answers, consistent
with the respect due from him to his young mistress.
"Are you not well this morning, Mountain?" asked Kitty.
"Yes, Miss Kathleen, I'm well enough."
"Has some one been vexing you, or is anybody ill at home? I had not
heard of anything amiss."
"My people are well enough, miss, thank you for asking. Maybe I am
vexed, but I shall have to get pleased again, for them that has grieved
me aren't likely to put themselves out, whether I'm right side out or
wrong."
Mountain's face assumed the most stolid appearance imaginable, and
Kathleen thought, "Poor old Mountain! I wish I knew what is amiss.
I hope he is not angry that William Burns is courting his daughter,
Patty. He is a worthy young fellow, and would make her a good husband.
I'll try to smooth matters."
How was Kathleen to know that, to use Mountain's own words, he was
"just breaking his heart over his young mistress, and wishing he could
run over that harum-scarum captain, by accident, of course, if by so
doing he could get rid of him without hurting his own horses."
As coachman, Mountain always called the steeds he controlled "my
horses," and he had a proper professional pride in them, and did not
like them to be used for what he called "dirty work" of any kind. He
would have deemed it an indignity to allow one of the handsome pair
that "hadn't their match within twenty mile," to run single in a
dog-cart, for instance. But he did not seem to think that it would be
derogatory to use them as a means of getting rid of Captain Jack. Not
that Mountain would have liked "to finish him outright," but to inflict
such personal damage as would spoil his looks, and keep him a prisoner
until Miss Kathleen was furnished with a husband of whom he could
approve. And Mountain further thought it was a great pity he could not
tell Miss Kathleen that she was the cause of his vexation, and that by
evening herself with Captain Torrance, she was as deep in the "black
books" of Hollingsby people generally, as it was possible for the
much-loved young lady of the Hall to have placed herself.
It was well that Kathleen did not associate Mountain's grievances
with herself, or it might have spoiled her drive. She was of too
affectionate a nature to be indifferent to the goodwill of any person,
however humble, and it would have troubled her to know that Hollingsby
folk, and her faithful servants in particular, were "worritting" on her
account, because of that walk in broad day with Captain Torrance, who
had been judged and condemned as not worthy to black her shoes.