A DIFFERENT ATMOSPHERE
'And I should fear, but lo! amid the press,
The whirl and hum and pressure of my day,
I hear Thy garments sweep, Thy seamless dress,
And close beside my work and weariness
Discern Thy gracious form, not far away,
But very near, O Lord, to help and bless.'--_Susan Coolidge._
My visit to Miss Rayner now drew to a close. I was really sorry to
leave her, and I think she was sorry to part with me. It was a strange
friendship between us. She was far beyond me in knowledge of the world
and in intellect, and yet I know she said things to me that she would
not say to any one else. She would laugh at me, tease me, and never
spare my blushes of embarrassment and discomfiture; but as she was
wishing me good-bye the last afternoon, she put both her hands on my
shoulders and stood looking down upon me with a strange softening of
face and manner. 'I have liked having you here, child; I knew I should
from the first moment I saw you, and I shall miss you after you have
gone. But I do not mean to lose sight of you, and when you want
advice,--or shall I say comfort?--come over and take advantage of my
quiet resting-place here to soothe and solace yourself. It is strange
advice to give you, but though I may have chaffed you about your
religious views, keep a firm grip of them, and go on your own way
straight-forward, without bending or relaxing in the slightest. I
believe you have got hold of the real thing, and if you have, I should
think it was worth keeping.'
Tears were in my eyes, and I laid my hand on her arm. 'I am praying
that you may find it too, Miss Rayner--or rather Him, for it is Christ
Himself that fills my life.'
She stooped and kissed me, but did not say another word, only there was
a wistful look in her eyes that haunted me for long afterwards. Old
John had his say, too, when parting with me at the station: 'I hope you
have h'enjoyed your visit, miss, and have had an h'edifying time; the
mistress wants some one of her h'own sex to talk to h'on h'occasions,
though, h'as I h'often say, she can hold her h'equal with h'any man if
she chooses. H'and h'if I make bold to say so, h'if you want a mount
h'at h'any time, Rawdon shall be h'at your disposal; you did him credit
the h'other day with the hounds, h'and I shall never raise h'any
h'objection to h'allowing you to ride him!'
It was certainly a different kind of life to which I returned. The
house was full of visitors, and all chance of quiet seemed gone. I
think Violet and Nelly were genuinely glad to see me. Kenneth, of
course, did not spare me; he coloured the story so of the way I had
joined the hounds, as to make General Forsyth quite vexed, and Mrs.
Forsyth did not seem to believe my true version of it.
'Why do you love to make people uncomfortable if you can?' I said in
desperation to him, after he had been chaffing me unmercifully on the
same subject before a lot of people in the drawing-room one afternoon.
'Because it is my nature to, I suppose,' he retorted. 'I don't think
anything would make you uncomfortable, Goody! You go serenely on your
way, wrapped in a cloak of supreme self-content and satisfaction.
Except for bringing a little extra pink colour into your cheeks, which
I like to see, no words of mine can ever stir you.'
'I have feelings,' I said, 'though I do try not to show them. I am not
a piece of stone. And if I did show them, you would be the first to
blame me for it.'
'I dare say I should, for it would be highly inconsistent with the
profession that you make to lose your temper like ordinary mortals.'
'So that I cannot act rightly in any case in your eyes,' I said, half
laughing, half vexed. 'I am just good as a kind of target that you can
fire off volleys of ridicule at: if I resent it, it will be showing
anger; if I bear it, it will be because I am "wrapped in a cloak of
supreme self-content and satisfaction."'
'Upon my word, Goody, I think you are showing too much feeling now,'
was the laughing rejoinder; 'I think I must make myself scarce till you
are calmer.' And he walked away and left me. He was the only one of
the Forsyths that I did not quite understand. No one said unkinder
things to my face than he did, and yet behind my back I knew that many
a time he had made things smoother for me with his parents. He laughed
and scoffed openly at the weaknesses and insincerity of society, yet
mingled freely in it, and was a favourite wherever he went. I felt no
eye in the household was so keen as his on my words and actions; he was
always wanting me to do things for him and go to places with him; yet
when I was with him he would be unsparing in his scoffing remarks on
any subject that would touch me most deeply. I found it best to take
all he said as quietly as possible, only now and then protesting, as I
had done upon this afternoon.
Hugh's friend, a Mr. Stanton, arrived a week after my return. He was
rather a grave-looking man, tall and broad-shouldered, with dark eyes
which seemed quick to take in every one and everything, and yet which
had a kindly gleam in them.
We did not see much of him, for Hugh and he spent most of their days in
the study together; but he proved very entertaining in the evening, for
he had travelled a great deal and could talk well, and somehow or other
would raise the conversation to a higher level than usual. General
Forsyth would discuss questions of the day with him, with a keener
interest than was his custom with a younger man; and Nelly came
gushingly to confide in me the first night of his arrival: 'I like him
awfully, Hilda! He is so different to most of Hugh's friends. They
seem so hard and cynical, and have such a contempt for women, I always
fancy. Mr. Stanton takes as much trouble to talk to me as he does to
father, and he is awfully good-looking!'
One evening, soon after he arrived, General and Mrs. Forsyth and
Constance wore dining out. A Miss Willoughby and her brother were
staying in the house; they were cousins of the Forsyths, and had
returned from London with them, but I had always kept away from them,
as Miss Willoughby's manner and ways grated on me. She seemed utterly
devoid of all religion, and was always ready to scoff and jeer at
serious subjects. She was a clever woman of the world, and looked upon
me as a mere child.
As we were in the drawing-room together, before the gentlemen joined us
after dinner, she called to me from her seat by the fire, 'Come here,
you little piece of innocence, I want to talk to you; why do you always
creep into a remote corner of the room away from everybody? Is it
modesty, or misanthropy, that drives you from your fellow-creatures?'
'Neither,' I said, as I slowly moved towards the fireplace and took a
seat near her. 'Nelly was entertaining you, so you did not require me.'
'But I do want you. I think you could be far more entertaining than
Nelly here, because you have taken up an original rôle, and I like
originality.'
I made no reply. There was a mischievous light in her eyes which
warned me she meant to enjoy herself at my expense.
She lay back in her chair, put up her pince-nez, and regarded me for
some minutes in silence. Then she gave a mock sigh.
'I don't see the halo, Nelly; it ought to be there--round her head, you
know. I hope she isn't a sham saint!'
'You shall not tease her,' Nelly said warmly; 'she gets quite enough of
that from Kenneth without your taking it up.'
'My dear child, I have no intention of teasing her. I would not
presume to do so on such short acquaintance. Beyond "Good-night" and
"Good-morning," I don't believe Miss Thorn and I have exchanged half a
dozen words. We are going to converse agreeably together now, if you
will allow us.'
'I don't think we shall find that we have much in common, Miss
Willoughby,' I said, trying to speak pleasantly.
'I dare say not. I am a wicked sinner according to your standard, and
you are a righteous saint; but may not sinners sometimes speak to
saints? How else are they to be made better, "I want to know," as the
Americans say? Do you attend chapel, Miss Thorn?'
'No,' I answered a little shortly.
'I went into a chapel once,' she pursued, looking gravely at me, 'and
there was a revival going on, I was told. That is what led me in
there--I wanted to see a revival! After the sermon was over, an old
white-haired man came stumbling into the seat where I was, and sat down
beside me. "Young pusson," he said, "do you want to be convarted?"
"What does it feel like?" I asked. He rose up, and stood swelling out
his waistcoat visibly. "It feels as if earth can't contain yer at
times, and 'even's only big enough for yer." "Thank you," I said; "I
shouldn't care to feel that size. Earth is big enough for me at
present," and I walked out.'
A burst of laughter from behind announced that the gentlemen had
entered the room. Kenneth came up to us, and planted himself on the
hearthrug in front of us.
'Are you treating Goody Two-Shoes to one of your stories?' he asked.
'We are having a very serious conversation,' said Miss Willoughby, in
her clear, loud voice, 'and do not wish to be interrupted. Now, Miss
Thorn, is your experience like that of the old chapel saint? I have
always heard that the godly were very big in their own estimation, but
never quite so big as that I How big do you feel? Tell us. I have a
fancy, if I were to try to attain to it, that it would be the old fable
of the toad and the ox again being enacted. What is your opinion?'
'It is not a subject for jesting,' I said gravely; and I rose from my
seat to move away. She laughingly caught hold of both my hands and
detained me.
'Now you are my prisoner, and I shall not let you escape till you have
answered a few questions. I have been doing my best to become
acquainted with you, but you listen and reply in monosyllables, which
is most unsociable. You leave me to do all the talking, and I want to
hear your side of the question. Is she always so silent, Kenneth?'
'Silence marks her displeasure,' Kenneth replied, laughing.
'I don't like sulky natures,' Miss Willoughby went on provokingly,
without giving me time to speak. 'I don't think she is shy, and I have
said nothing to displease her. My object has been to become friends
with her, but I'm afraid she thinks me too unworthy of her friendship.
Now, Miss Thorn,--what a baby face it is, to be sure!--look up and
speak. You don't seem so glib on the subject as you ought to be. What
is "conversion"? Enlighten us.'
I looked up at my tormentor. 'You will find the best definition of it
in the dictionary, if you are anxious to know,' I said.
'That is evading my question. I begin to think you have a good deal of
cowardice in your composition. You are afraid to show your colours.
Now I am going to ask you a straightforward question, and I expect a
straightforward reply. Are you converted?'
Hugh and Mr. Stanton at this juncture joined our group, and there was a
sudden lull in the conversation. Miss Willoughby, without
relinquishing her hold of me, turned towards them with a face brimful
of fun.
'It's a case being tried,' she said to them. 'I am cross-examining a
witness.'
'A prisoner, I should say,' observed Hugh drily.
'I shall not run away, Miss Willoughby,' I said, trying to speak
amicably.
She dropped my hands at once, and I hoped the subject would be changed;
but such was not her intention.
'I am waiting for your answer,' she pursued. 'Are you converted?'
I held my head erect and looked her straight in the face. 'Yes, I am.'
'Good! When were you converted? No hesitation. You are bound in
honour not to run away from me, and I have several more questions yet
to ask.'
'About six months ago in London,' My tone was grave. I did not know
how this was going to end.
'Describe the process.'
'That I refuse to do, Miss Willoughby.'
'Then I shall not believe in you, for I expect you can't do it. And it
is a selfish, unkind spirit to refuse to enlighten an inquirer. My old
chapel friend was far kinder. You good people say conversion is a
blessing; yet, when I want to know how to get it, you refuse to assist
me.'
'If you want to know the way, the Bible will show you,' I said in a low
voice.
'The Bible! I heard a clergyman say once that the Bible did not teach
conversion!'
'But our Lord did. "Except ye be converted, and become as little
children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven."'
It was Mr. Stanton who spoke, and every one looked up astonished.
'Do you know all about these things, Mr. Stanton?' questioned Miss
Willoughby, as she looked at him curiously.
'I am glad to say I do,' he replied, 'and shall be pleased at any time
to have a quiet talk with you about them.'
She shrugged her shoulders with a comic look of dismay at Kenneth. 'He
looks as if he could be aggressive--it's a revelation to me; I cannot
get over it! Let us have some music to refresh us after such topics!'
She moved across to the piano, and left me in peace for the remainder
of the evening.