REACTION.
Another day of calm and deep enjoyment.
I took my way to the Priory House at a very early hour, in order to
make the sketch I had promised Miss Vernon. She was reading to her
grandfather when I arrived, and welcomed me joyously, entering with
eager interest into my preparations for drawing, and the various
questions which arose as to the objects to be taken in, &c., in a
way, too, which showed some knowledge of the art; and hour after
hour slipped by as I sat before the window, sometimes laying down my
pencil to talk with the Colonel, sometimes caressing his fine old
dog, who appeared to have established a species of guard over me;
while Kate, constantly watchful of my progress, flitted backwards and
forwards between me and the open window, often pointing with her rosy
forefinger to some shading she wished deepened, or some light brought
into stronger relief; branching off from discussions on the effects
of distance, &c., into all sorts of irrelevant subjects, then blaming
herself for interrupting me, and exhorting me to renewed diligence;
and all this so naturally, so earnestly, showing openly her pleasure
at having me to talk to, but without one shadow of that indescribable
consciousness by which so many women seem to say to themselves, "Now I
know he is going to make love to me." No, strongly as I felt tempted
to do so, there was a frankness and repose in Miss Vernon's manner I
would not for worlds have disturbed by even a whisper of the profound
admiration she inspired.
Something of the high principled and unselfish tone pervading the
society into which I had fallen, appeared to influence me with more of
thought for future consequences than was my usual habit; besides, there
is nothing so blighting to sentimentalism as the friendly cordiality I
have described; nevertheless, though I do not believe I was ever before
so long in the society of a beautiful girl without getting up some
degree of flirtation, the morning flew rapidly and delightfully away.
The Colonel had letters to write, and his granddaughter's visits to
my impromptu studio, if fewer, were more confidential. She told me
of the long visits she had paid to Lady Desmond, both in London and
Dublin, and of the delightful singing lessons she had taken in the
former place, adding that she owed her first and last peep at the great
and gay world to her cousin. It appeared that Lady Desmond had been
displeased with her for returning to Dungar, and had not written to
her for a long time. "But you know," said Kate, "grandpapa was about
to leave Dungar then, and I could not let him do so alone, nor go away
without a last look at my old happy home." All this was told in a low
tone, as if she did not wish the Colonel to overhear it, and in a
confidential manner inexpressibly delightful to me. She had knelt down
to caress Cormac, and after remaining for some seconds rolling up his
long ear thoughtfully, looked up suddenly in my face and added, "I did
not intend to bore you with such a long prose about my difficulties
with Georgina; the reason I mentioned the subject at all was because
I heard you tell grandpapa you had a sister at Naples. Lady Desmond
was there, I heard, about a month ago, and I wish you would ask your
sister, when you write, if she knows anything of her; I cannot bear to
lose sight of her so completely." I promised very readily to do as she
desired, though I warned her it might be months before I would get any
reply, as my sister was but a careless correspondent.
"Thanks, and I will not interrupt you any more."
"You do not interrupt me in the least, I assure you; but if you are
determined to go, perhaps you will sing. I see Colonel Vernon shutting
his writing desk."
"With pleasure; would you like an Irish melody?"
"Beyond every thing."
And the next minute her rich voice was pouring forth in a full tide of
sweetness, "Has sorrow thy young days shaded?"
I soon dropped my pencil, and even after the last notes had died away,
remained listening for their renewal; then collecting my drawing
materials, I rose, and promising Miss Vernon to finish the sketch from
memory, I invited the Colonel to accompany me on a visit of ceremony
to Mrs. Winter; it was succeeded by another peep at the studio, a walk
with the Colonel, and then came the pleasant friendly dinner, the
frank cheerful interchange of thought, the after-dinner cup of coffee
and stroll in the pleasure ground to look at the moon reflected in
the river; while Miss Vernon, courteously anxious to give me what she
prized herself, gathered a bouquet of her choicest autumnal flowers,
"to make me forget that horrid Carrington, at least in my own room,"
she said; her grandfather laughing at the idea of her expecting I
should care for such things.
How delightfully homelike it all was.
Finally she sang me the serenade that had so enchanted me, and before
the last notes were well hushed, Nurse announced the cab I had ordered
to convey me to the railway.
I rose reluctantly, the Colonel, Nurse, and Cormac, and even Kate,
coming out in the fresh night air, all perfumed with the clematis and
heliotropes that adorned the front of the cottage, to see me off.
"Good bye, Captain Egerton," said Kate,-- "be sure to come back soon,
and do not forget the drawings; have you got your flowers?"
"It would be a bold man that would attempt to take them from me, Miss
Vernon; good night!"
"A thousand thanks, Colonel, for my very pleasant visit to A----."
"God bless you, take care of yourself," he replied.
"A' then the saints go wid ye!" said Nurse.
"Good bye, Mrs. O'Toole; I'll never taste an eatable trout, until I
return."
"Good night once more;" and I threw myself into the cab, with a feeling
of extraordinary regret, and affection for the old Colonel; for Mrs.
O'Toole, aye, even for Cormac; but for Kate--_Caramba_, as Winter would
say.
A short hour of hissing and clattering, and I was back again amongst
the bustling, crowded, glaring, gas exhaling streets of Carrington;
amidst the confusion of noisy omnibuses and uncouth cries, of drunken
mechanics, and wretched beggar women with their imps of children!
It was after ten o'clock before I entered the mess room to report my
return, (having first placed my precious flowers in safety). I found
the apartment redolent of the savoury odours of dinner and cigars,
and occupied by a larger party than usual; all of whom were in loud
and eager debate on the respective merits of the favourites for the
approaching Doncaster meeting. As soon as they perceived me through the
cloudy atmosphere, I was greeted with a perfect hurricane of queries,
exclamations, and offers of fifty and a hundred to one, against divers
and sundry horses, colts, and fillies.
"Where, in the name of mystery, have you been skulking?"
"Hullo! Egerton, you're the very man I wanted; give me the long odds
against M----'s mare; you're sure to win, and it will just square my
book."
"I say, Fred, I've backed 'Tearaway,' would you have me hedge off?"
"What has become of you; you have missed such a spread at the Mayor's,
and such speeches as would have driven Murray to suicide."
"A hundred to five you don't name the winner."
"Ha! Egerton, just come back?"
"Keep cool, my dear fellows, and give me some claret."
I sat down, endeavouring in vain to enter clearly into the several
subjects they were so eagerly discussing, and perfectly bewildered
by the strong contrast the whole scene presented to my life for the
last few days. Then followed long weary debates on the coming event,
interspersed with anecdotes of the villainy of certain trainers and
the intense knowingness of the jockies. Finally, I began to take
some interest in the details; the result partly of habit, and partly
of an effort to do so, lest any appearance of pre-occupation might
set my brother officers on the scent to discover its course. I was
successful--for Sedley exclaimed, "I never saw Egerton return from one
of his philosophic expeditions with his wits so much about him."
"By the way, you've been over to that tumble down old place A----; is
it worth seeing?" said another.
"Yes, to a lover of the picturesque and antique, but it has nothing
else to attract."
"Ah! that will do; I do not care for the picturesque."
"Were you successful in your search?" asked Burton imprudently.
"For what?" called out half a dozen.
"For the picturesque, of course," he replied. I breathed again.
"Yes, particularly successful." He smiled, and shrinking from the
thought of my companions getting the slightest clue to his real
meaning, especially in their present mood, I rose and bid them all
good-night, having endured their Babel for more than two hours.
"And you will not sport even a pony on the Leger?"
"No, not a sixpence, I was bitten too severely at Ascot last spring."
"Never say die, you're not going to knock under to your luck that way?"
"I am, though, and I wish I could persuade you to do the same,
Vavasour," said I, laughing, and laying my hand on the shoulder of an
aristocratic looking stripling who had joined about six months before,
and who coloured to the eyes at the idea of advice on prudence.
"Egerton is about to abjure the pomps and vanities of this wicked
world," said one.
"He has been _en retrait_ with Grab'em-all, the field preacher," said
another.
I laughed. "Perhaps it was as pleasant as yours with Levi Solomons, and
Co., last March," said I.
He reddened, but laughing good humouredly, shook his hand at me.
"Go your own way, old fellow."
"It has always been my habit, and I intend to continue it," said I
coolly, and made my exit.
Refusing Burton's offer of a visit to my room, on the plea of fatigue,
I threw myself in an arm chair I called my study, as I generally sat
in it when disposed for thought, and tried to arrange my entangled
ideas into something like order; the attempt, however, was not very
successful.
Sundry rough calculations as to my chances of clearing off certain
debts, and my probable amount of income; a perfect conviction that Kate
Vernon was the loveliest girl, and her grandfather the most perfect
old gentleman I had ever met; a vivid recollection of my past visit,
and an indistinct intention of doing or saying something remarkably
distinguished on my next; a vague haunting wish for some truer and
more real interest than my life had ever hitherto known; such were a
few of the elements in my reverie, and round them all floated a dim
consciousness of Mrs. Winter's cap, and Miss Araminta Cox's yellow
turban. I felt the strength of old habits returning in the levity which
mingled even with my better aspirations; and fell asleep, feeling I
had got a glimpse of happiness such as Nature had endowed me with
capabilities of enjoying, but between which and myself circumstances
had fixed a great gulf.
Of course I told Burton all my proceedings, and to do him justice he
really seemed to take an interest in them, but he laughed a little at
the Arcadian style of early tea and hot cakes. Burton, though still a
"sub," was my senior in age by at least a couple of years; he had not
been in the Regiment long, and knew nothing of the Vernons; indeed,
the only officers still among us who had experienced the hospitality
of Dungar, were Dashwood, now our Colonel, Hauton, and myself. I felt
I ought to mention having met our old and popular acquaintance, yet
I did not quite like doing so. Our Colonel was a fine, high-minded,
gentleman-like fellow, who never forgot a kindness or remembered a
spite. I would rather have wished him to know Vernon was within reach;
but Hauton, I always disliked him, he was a cold-hearted _roué_, and I
would almost rather have been accessory to the introduction of Satan
to our first mother, than let Hauton get the _entrée_ of Kate Vernon's
refined and tranquil home. At the thought, a vision of it and the
inscription over its entrance rose up before me. However, as it would
have a strange effect if Colonel Dashwood was by any chance to meet
Vernon and find I had concealed my rencontre with him, I determined to
mention it, but in a casual way, hinting at the same time his change
of fortune, which I knew would prevent Hauton from taking any vivid
interest in his former hospitable entertainer.
It was not easy to get a quiet half hour in the Barracks, especially
at the present exciting period--the approaching Doncaster meeting;
so in order to enjoy an uninterrupted conference, Burton and I
mounted our horses, and took the least frightful of the roads round
Carrington. I endeavoured to convey to my companion some idea of the
impression stamped on my mind by the few days I had spent at A----;
its peace and simplicity, it's freedom from monotony and ennui! but
it would not do; Burton was, as I think I have said, a kind-hearted,
high minded fellow, but singularly free from imagination. I fancy he
had met a few harder rubs in his contact with the world than I had;
not that he ever talked of his own circumstances, but it was evident
he was not rich.
"All this is very fine," said he, at the end of my elaborate
description, "and you might like the novelty of the thing for a week
or so; but take my word for it, at the end of a fortnight, you would be
drawing comparisons between your philosophic society of painters and
musicians, and that of your discarded Regiment, anything but favourable
to the former."
"No, I do not believe it! I have for a long time felt a weariness and
distaste for the life I am leading, without a notion or a hope of
anything better; I do not know why, except that at thirty one begins to
tire of the eternal sameness of the mess table, country quarters, slow
promotion, and no very particular occupation. Up to five and twenty,
military life may have its charms, but then it begins to lose its _soi
disant_ attractions. I suppose it was the dearth of variety, and the
vain hope of getting up something like excitement, that induced me to
make a fool of myself by plunging into various extravagances of late;
they will cost me dear enough; I wish they had put me to a desk instead
of buying me a commission. It's too bad to think that at my age I am no
further on in the world than I was at eighteen, and unfit for anything
except leading a charge or riding a steeple chase; and the brute that
gave us a great dinner the other day, and bored Sedley about his 'Ock,'
what was his name? 'Mogg?' ay Mogg! How old do you think the savage?"
"Fifty-five, perhaps."
"Not more than twenty-five years my senior, and began life, as an
errand boy! I should like to know what and where I shall be at
fifty-five; a wretched old half-pay; speculating how long I can make
a ten-and-sixpenny hat last; with a bed-room in Leicester Square, and
my address at the Senior United Service Club; and mine was a boyhood of
_bon bons_, bowing tutors, and Shetland ponies."
"Why, Egerton, you are quite eloquent! I think your excursion to A----
has only served to open your eyes to the miseries you were before
unconscious of; I'd prefer happy ignorance; I conclude the English
of all this is, that Miss Vernon's angelic voice and beautiful eyes
incline you to matrimony, while common sense warns you off, eh?"
"Pshaw! nonsense! I am not going to declare Miss Vernon is essential to
my existence; I dare say I shall have to scramble through life without
such companionship; but I do not hesitate to say, I would be a happier
man if I thought I had a chance of it; ay, and a better one," I added,
after a pause. "I might have some pretension to think of matrimony but
for my own confounded folly in incumbering my younger son's portion,
as I have done;" and I stuck the spurs into my unfortunate horse's
sides, who resented the injustice, by a series of wild plunges, and
gave me some trouble to reduce him to order.
After walking our horses on for a few paces in silence, Burton said
gravely, "I see this is more serious than I at first thought, but
whatever your feelings may be, for God's sake, do not rush into any
imprudent marriage; it is the most fatal mistake any man ever made;
there's not one in a thousand who has the stuff in him to stand its
accompaniments unflinchingly; a hundred to one but the consciousness
of having dragged himself and the woman he loved into such a scrape,
sours his temper and makes him a brute to his wife and a tyrant to
his children. I have seen such examples, that I do believe the best
proof of affection a poor man can give, is to fly at the first fire
from Cupid's battery; and my advice to you is to avoid A---- and its
attractions. Do not go on looking and insinuating a thousand things
you can never accomplish; but which, in spite of all we say of their
inconstancy, live in a girl's memory for many a day after we have
forgotten all about it."
"By Jove! I must be a more conceited fellow than any in England, if
I could for a moment imagine that Miss Vernon would waste a thought
on me when I was out of her sight; I wish you could just hear her
easy unembarrassed way of begging me to be sure to return; it was the
coolest address I ever received from a young lady; her heart and mind
seem too well filled to be easily accessible; yet--but I dare not try;
you speak truly, Burton, about imprudent marriages; still, I think, it
would be worth a struggle to get my affairs into training. I would not
ask any woman to marry into poverty, but one might be satisfied with
competence and"--
"Just the way all men argue when they want to do a foolish act; what
would be competence to a man of your habits?"
"Nevertheless, I'll think about it, and look up Egerton; he ought
to have bowels of compassion for his brother as well as for every
benighted blackamoor under the sun; and his expenses are, I believe,
limited to subscribing to all kinds of Evangelical Missions."
"Do you mean then seriously to contemplate ----?"
"Burton! pray do not look so dismal; I tell you it's a long look out; I
do not know what I shall do."
"You'll go over to A---- in spite of my warning?"
"Oh, I must; I promised Miss Vernon; believe me, I am the only one
likely to suffer from my imprudence; and then I will return no more
till I have seen Egerton; or--in short, let us just cross the country
here, the corn seems all cut, and it will break in the horses for the
hunting."
In accordance with my determination, I seized the first interval in a
rather professional conversation between Colonel Dashwood and a retired
General he had invited to dinner, to tell him of my accidental meeting
with his old acquaintance; sinking the fact, however, of his having a
grand-daughter.
"What, old D'Arcy Vernon, of Dungar," he exclaimed; "how curious! and
so he is living there, is he? I am sorry to hear it, he must have left
Dungar then _in toto_?"
"Or Dungar left him," sneered Hauton. "It was _en route_, if I am not
much mistaken, when we were there."
"The first day I can, I'll go over to A----, and bring back the
old Colonel with me," said our good natured Commander. "I owe him
a vast amount of hospitality, and shall be too glad to show him I
have not forgotten it; poor fellow! at his age; he must be more than
seventy-five!"
"He looks remarkably well," I said, "just the same as ever."
"The Irish have such happy temperaments," said Dashwood, turning to the
General.
"Yes, they are like the Niggers in many respects," said Hauton; "the
more you beat them the better they be."
I restrained my inclination to shy a decanter at his head with great
difficulty.
The ten succeeding days went over wonderfully well; I found the
promised drawings of Dungar for Kate, and worked up the sketch I had
taken of the Priory, to the very best of my abilities. I took long
rides with Burton, and often without him, not finding him so congenial
as I wished. I wrote a long letter to my sister, and made all proper
enquiries for Lady Desmond, without, however, explaining the cause of
my curiosity. It was so long since I had seen Mary; I did not know how
her heart had stood the wear and tear of four years' dissipation. How
fond we were of each other, as children!
Finally, I wrote to Colonel Vernon, telling him about Dashwood and all
the gossip I could think would amuse him; sending a message to Kate as
to the drawings, and promising to be over with them in the course of
the following week.
Altogether, I was much too busy to look into my own affairs, but
promised myself to overhaul them completely on my return from A----. I
secured a week's leave, and determined to throw care to the dogs, and
enjoy myself thoroughly. I started before almost any one, except Burton
(whose habits were quiet and regular), was visible. He joined me as
I stood on the steps, while my servant was placing my carpet bag and
portfolio in the cab which was to convey me to the Railway.
"So you're going, are you?"
"Whatever skies above,
Here's a heart for any fate!"
Said I, laughing, and too much elated at the week's freedom and
enjoyment before me to be damped by his lugubrious tone. We shook
hands, and I left him whistling with a reflective air.
I little thought where we would meet again.