BOYISH CONFIDENCES
CHRISTMAS came and went. Kathleen's party was a great success, largely
owing to the efforts of Aylmer, Geraldine, and Hetty Stapleton, who had
been pressed into the service. Without them, the hands of the young
hostess would have been too full.
In pity for Ralph's loneliness, he was invited to stay the night at the
Hall. It would be too sad, Kathleen said, for the lonely boy to go back
from all the brightness there to the dead quiet of Monk's How.
The boy enjoyed his visit to the full, but Kathleen noticed that he
avoided Hetty Stapleton in a determined fashion.
"Don't you know Miss Stapleton?" she asked. "She is such a favourite
with all the young people in the neighbourhood. Or have you and she
quarrelled?"
The boy's face crimsoned as he answered, "Of course I know Miss
Stapleton. Everybody does at Hollingsby. We haven't quarrelled, only I
don't think we are friends."
"How is that, Ralph? She has surely not been unkind to you. If so, I
must take her to task."
"Please don't say a word, Miss Mountford!" pleaded Ralph, earnestly.
"Miss Stapleton always tries to be kind to me. She has wanted to give
me things, and has asked me to ride with her, and—" Ralph paused,
though he could have given Kathleen a long list of offered kindnesses
which he had curtly rejected.
"And you would not accept the things, or join in the rides, eh, Ralph?
What can Hetty have done to offend you?"
"Nothing to me, only I know father doesn't like her, and she doesn't
like him now, though I think they were friends once. I heard Sarah say
so. You see, Miss Mountford, I couldn't take presents or go riding with
a lady if father was not friends with her, could I? You'll be sure not
to tell Miss Stapleton or anybody why I refused, because Sarah was
saying that to the cook one day, and she didn't know that I heard her."
Kathleen promised to respect Ralph's confidence, then said, "But you go
out with me."
"That is different. I know father likes me to be with you. He said
one day, that there was no lady in the world he admired so much as he
did you, and there had only been one so good before, and that was my
mother."
Seldom had Kathleen been so glad of an interruption as she was at that
moment. Her attention was called from Ralph by Hetty Stapleton herself,
and so no response was needed. But the boy's words—the echo of his
father's—were not forgotten.
It seemed that Captain Torrance was in no hurry to return to Monk's
How. He came there occasionally, but made no long stay, and took no
advantage of the relations between Miss Mountford and Ralph. His visits
to Hollingsby were purely business ones, and that he might see the boy
and make arrangements for his comfort and the supply of his wants. He
sent Kathleen a few lines expressive of his gratitude for her goodness
to Ralph, and said that she had poured brightness into his young life
and influenced him for good, a work worthy of one so pure and noble as
herself. He prayed her to continue her kindness to the lad, as he, of
necessity, must be much absent from home, and told her that whilst he
could never repay her, he well knew that such a nature as hers would
find its reward in the fact that she was helping others, above all, a
motherless boy.
Always Captain Torrance harped on this string, and always too he awoke
a responsive chord in Kathleen's breast. She sent him a few lines in
reply, told of her affection for the bright boy, and promised to do all
in her power for his happiness and benefit.
"Ralph has brightened our quiet life here," she wrote, "and we
should all miss him, were he long absent." That was all; but it
satisfied Captain Torrance. He did not even call at the Hall, and
only on a single occasion did Kathleen exchange a few words with him
out-of-doors. This was when winter festivities, such as are usual in
country houses, had come to an end. The young leaves were showing
on the trees and the song of birds was heard in the land, telling
everywhere of new life—the glorious awakening of the world after the
deadness of winter.
The country roads were dry, and riding was most enjoyable in the bright
sunshine and with lengthening days; for April had proved agreeably
false to her character, and was more inclined for smiles than tears.
Kathleen and Ralph were out riding together on Polly and the Kelpie.
Miss Mountford was otherwise unattended. After a brisk canter they
were riding quietly homeward, when Captain Torrance came in sight. He
had arrived at Monk's How quite unexpectedly during Ralph's absence.
Naturally, the boy was wild with delight on seeing his father, and
equally naturally, the latter exchanged a cordial greeting with
Kathleen, and made use of the opportunity to repeat the thanks he had
previously written. But the tone and looks of the speaker were far more
eloquent than written words could be, however well considered, and
Kathleen listened with undisguised pleasure.
"You have given me far more credit than I deserve," she said. "Ours
is not a one-sided affection, is it, Ralph? You are my friend as I am
yours. My cavalier too, and very much we enjoy our rides together. The
Kelpie and Polly are well used to be companions now."
Of course Ralph was proud of his post, of his steed, and above all,
of being called Kathleen's friend; and though he could not put his
feelings into words, he said enough to make her laugh and blush at
his childish compliments. Just at this moment, when Captain Torrance
was standing listening to his boy, looking towards Miss Mountford and
patting Polly's neck in a caressing fashion, Hetty Stapleton came in
sight.
It seemed to Kathleen that the wrong persons always had appeared on the
scene, if by the merest chance she was exchanging a few unimportant
words with Captain Torrance. She had long since guessed that Hetty
had no good will towards him, and Ralph's innocent confidences had
convinced her that the feeling was mutual. She thought highly of
Hetty, but was hardly likely to part abruptly with Ralph's father,
with whom she had not exchanged a word for months. So she made no
attempt to ride on until Hetty had passed by; but she could not fail
to see that Captain Jack's elaborate bow received the slightest
possible recognition, and that the girl's face wore an expression of
grave regret as she returned her own greeting. Captain Jack gave a
half-comical, half-rueful look at Kathleen, as he said—
"We were friends once, and now Miss Stapleton seems doubtful whether
she has seen me before or not."
Ever loyal to those whom she professed to like, Kathleen replied, "I
have always thought Hetty's friendship well worth winning and keeping.
I value it greatly."
"And so it is. Friendship that deserves the name always is. But in Miss
Stapleton's case and mine, it happened it was difficult to—"
The speaker hesitated, laughed, uttered an irrelevant word, and then
said, "Something happened which I cannot speak about. If it were my own
affair, I should be only too happy if you would listen whilst I told
you what estranged us."
A meaning look conveyed an impression to Kathleen's mind, and from that
moment she believed that Hetty's friendship had ripened into a stronger
attachment for John Torrance, and that it had not been reciprocated,
hence the friendship had come to an untimely end.
She could never have told how she was led to this conclusion; a
mistaken one, for in Hetty's case friendship was far too strong a term
to use as regarded her acquaintance with this man.
He had sought her society for the sake of her fortune, as we already
know, and though the world was no wiser as to what had occurred through
Hetty's telling, John Torrance could never pardon her for having
rejected him, and she knew this.
"You will like to go home with your father, Ralph," said Kathleen after
this. "I am sure he will want you, especially as he is leaving you
again so soon."
"I must take you home first, Miss Mountford," replied Ralph. "I ought
to, you know. A gentleman always sees the lady home. Father won't mind."
"I should mind very much if you forgot yourself so far as to allow Miss
Mountford to ride home alone," said his father, with becoming gravity.
"I knew you'd say so, father. I'll be at home as soon as you are."
Away went the riders, and homeward walked John Torrance, well satisfied
with the success of his plans. He had purposely absented himself, to
allow Ralph to obtain a firm foothold under Miss Mountford's roof, and
he had no intention of staying at Monk's How for long together, until
the time drew near when Kathleen's fortune would be in her own hands.
Ralph would be his best advocate, and he regularly told the boy many
things which he wished her to know, but warned him not to repeat them
to Sarah or to any of the people about.
"I trust you, dear boy," he would say. "I have only you."
"I may tell Miss Mountford things, mayn't I?" asked Ralph. "She's so
kind, you know, and I'm certain she's sorry for you, and for me being
all by myself."
"Tell Miss Mountford what you like, Ralph. No fear of her telling your
secrets or mine. It is hard on you, my boy, for the house is very quiet
now."
"I don't mind if it's best for you. I missed the horses at first, but
you see Miss Mountford lets me go and see hers, and I have the Kelpie."
Then Ralph told his father of his talk with Miss Mountford about his
pet, and her promise that if the pony were sold, she would buy him.
It was a long time since John Torrance had been moved as he was at this
story. He had parted with all his horses, except his favourite hunter
and the Kelpie, and had reduced his establishment at Monk's How as far
as possible. Absence gave him a good excuse for this. But it would have
cost the man a great pang to deprive Ralph of his pony, and Kathleen's
promise to the boy touched his heart. Spendthrift, bankrupt, schemer as
he was, ashamed of his past, and hopeless as to his future unless he
could win this girl and her fortune, he was almost ready to give up his
pursuit of them.
"She is far too good to be linked for life with such a man as I am,"
he thought. "I am half inclined to go to her, to tell her all, and to
ask her to take my boy and make of him a better man than his father.
Matheson would help her, and I would pledge myself to go away and never
again to reclaim Ralph, or intrude on her presence. Ralph would feel
the loss of me for a time, but he would get over it under her roof and
guardianship."
It was too late to carry out such a resolution that night. Captain
Torrance slept upon it, and with the coming of morning saw matters in a
different light.
"When I do honestly love Kathleen, and would marry her without a penny,
if I had money of my own, I cannot be counted a mere mercenary suitor."
"As to going away, where can I go with the hope of helping myself
without money? I dare say Matheson would lend me some, as he has done
before, or give it, for that matter. Well he might, for it would leave
the coast clear for him; but would Miss Mountford herself thank me for
doing this?"
Captain Jack decided that she would not, felt sure that Kathleen cared
more for himself than for Matheson, and that Ralph would break his
heart if deprived of the sight of his father.
So, a couple of days later, Monk's How was again left to Ralph and the
servants, but the boy went to Miss Mountford to be comforted.
"It's horridly lonely, worse than ever, when I've had father for
a little while," he said, as he walked in the grounds hanging on
Kathleen's arm. "But I don't mind so much as I did; father is doing it
for the best. He told me so. And I know now why he didn't stay at home
at Christmas. Father used to ask a lot of men to come that he had known
for a long while. Some of them were not very nice. They drank a great
deal of wine and stuff, and were noisy, and said—"
"Hush, Ralph! you must not tell me these things," said Kathleen; "your
father would not like it."
"Yes, he would. He told me I might say anything to you, for I must have
somebody to talk to, and the servants gossip, you know. Well, you may
guess what the men did when there was no lady in the house. It was just
for want of mother. The nice people go where there are mothers, father
says. Well, this last Christmas he stayed away from home, so that the
men who had been used to be here could not come, and he says he will
never have such about him any more. He wants to be a real good man, for
my sake, and somebody else's. He didn't say who else. Do you know, Miss
Mountford?"
"How can I tell, Ralph? Your father never spoke to me about such
things."
"Of course not. I wonder if it is for your sake, so as he may be more
like you, because you know what he said about you being the best—"
Kathleen put her hand on the boy's lips, exclaiming, "I must really
stop you by force, your tongue runs so fast, Ralph, and you are such a
flatterer. You will do me harm. I shall think too much of myself."
"I'm sorry if I've vexed you," said Ralph, penitently.
"I am not angry, dear," said Kathleen; and she kissed the boy's
upturned face in token of this.
The sound of the luncheon bell summoned them to the house, and put an
end to the conversation and to further revelations on Ralph's part, for
the time.
Many similar talks followed, and Kathleen ceased to check the boy when
he began them. He always brought his father's letters, and read the
greater part of them to her. Often there were messages of grateful
thanks to Kathleen herself, which Ralph was particularly proud to
repeat to her.
Through this innocent medium, John Torrance contrived to keep in
constant touch with Miss Mountford. His carefully-worded letters might
have been addressed to her for by means of them she was brought to
sympathize with him in his new and noble aspirations after a higher and
better life.
Thus far, however, John Torrance had not gone beyond aspirations. The
life itself was in the future. His present one was modelled on the old
lines. He was only going to change when, as Kathleen's husband, he
should settle down afresh to domesticity in the country, with plenty of
money to make it endurable.
It was true that he had kept away from Monk's How at Christmas to avoid
inviting a number of guests, but this was only half the truth. The
other half was, that he wished to stand better with his neighbours,
especially Kathleen, and that he was unable to entertain his old
associates with the reckless extravagance to which they had been
accustomed—not that their company would have been distasteful to him.
At present, John Torrance was whiling away the time as best he could,
accepting invitations when they offered, moving about from place to
place, and solacing himself for temporary discomfort by looking forward
to extra indulgences in the future.
Aylmer Matheson was conscious of approaching danger to Kathleen, but
what could he do? He could not banish Ralph, and Captain Torrance had
chosen to banish himself. He shrewdly suspected that his ward was
kept acquainted with the movements of the latter through the boy's
confidences; but he was sure that, had Kathleen received any direct
communication, she would have been prompt to tell him, for she was
incapable of deceit. She spoke openly enough of Ralph's confidences
without betraying them, and said, "I let the boy talk to me as he
chooses. Poor child! He said he must have somebody, and his father had
told him that servants gossiped so. I thought it was kinder to listen
and be silent, than to let the boy chatter to any and every one."
So Ralph's confidences continued, and his frequent presence at the Hall
produced an excellent effect on his conduct. He was easily influenced
by his surroundings, and not only Kathleen, but Geraldine and Aylmer,
strove to wean the boy from the use of expressions which he had learned
from grooms and some of the still less reputable associates of Captain
Torrance.
The three were, however, influenced by different motives: Kathleen by
affection for the boy, and a wish to please the father by caring for
him; Geraldine and Aylmer, as professed disciples of Christ, could
not help doing their utmost to benefit one of the lambs for whom the
Shepherd died.