HESTER
A STORY OF CONTEMPORARY LIFE
BY
MRS. OLIPHANT
"A springy motion in her gait,
A rising step, did indicate
Of pride and joy no common rate
That flush'd her spirit:
I know not by what name beside
I shall it call: if 'twas not pride,
It was a joy to that allied
She did inherit.
* * * * *
She was trained in Nature's school,
Nature had blest her.
A waking eye, a prying mind,
A heart that stirs, is hard to bind;
A hawk's keen sight ye cannot blind,
Ye could not Hester."
CHARLES LAMB.
IN THREE VOLUMES
VOL. II
London
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1883
The Right of Translation and Reproduction is Reserved
LONDON
R. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR,
BREAD STREET HILL.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I. THE YOUNG AND THE OLD.
CHAPTER II. A FAMILY PARTY.
CHAPTER III. CONFIDENCES.
CHAPTER IV. ROLAND.
CHAPTER V. WARNING.
CHAPTER VI. DANCING TEAS.
CHAPTER VII. THE FIRST OF THEM.
CHAPTER VIII. A NEW COMPETITOR.
CHAPTER IX. A DOUBLE MIND.
CHAPTER X. STRAIGHTFORWARD.
CHAPTER XI. A CENTRE OF LIFE.
CHAPTER XII. WAS IT LOVE?
CHAPTER XIII. CHRISTMAS.
CHAPTER XIV. THE PARTY AT THE GRANGE.
HESTER.
HESTER.
CHAPTER I.
THE YOUNG AND THE OLD.
"I like your Roland," said Miss Vernon. She had come to pay one of her
usual visits to her old relations. The grandson whom Hester had made
acquaintance with without seeing his face, had now been nearly a week at
the Vernonry and was known to everybody about. The captain's precautions
had, of course, come to nothing. He had gone, as in duty bound, to pay
his respects to the great lady who was his relation too, though in a
far-off degree, and he had pleased her. Catherine thought of nothing
less than of giving a great pleasure to her old friends by her praise.
"He is full of news and information, which is a godsend to us country
folks, and he is very good-looking, _qui ne gâte rien_."
Mrs. Morgan looked up from her place by the fireside with a smile of
pleasure. She sat folding her peaceful old hands with an air of
beatitude, which, notwithstanding her content, had not been upon her
countenance before the young man's arrival.
"That is a great pleasure to me, Catherine--to know that you like him,"
said the old lady. "He seems to me all that, and kind besides."
"What I should have expected your grandson to be," said Catherine. "I
want him to see the people here, and make a few acquaintances. I don't
suppose that our little people at Redborough can be of much importance
to a young man in town; still it is a pity to neglect an opportunity. He
is coming to dine with me to-morrow--as I suppose he told you?"
The old lady nodded her head several times with the same soft smile of
happiness.
"You are always good," she said; "you have done everything, Catherine,
for me and my old man. But if you want to go straight to my heart you
know the way lies through the children--my poor Katie's boys."
"I am glad that the direct route is so easy," Miss Vernon said in her
fine, large, beneficent way; "at least in this case. The others I don't
know."
Captain Morgan came and stood between his wife and the visitor. To be
sure it was to the fire he went, by which he posted himself with his
back to it, as is the right of every Englishman. His countenance wore a
troubled look, very different from the happiness of his wife's. He stood
like a barrier between them, a non-conductor intercepting the passage of
genial sentiment.
"My dear Catherine," he said, with a little formality, "I don't wish to
be unkind, nor to check your kindness; but you must recollect that
though he is poor Katie's boy, she, poor soul, had nothing to do with
the up-bringing of him, and that, in short, we know nothing about him.
It has been my principle, as you know, of late years, to insist upon
living my own life."
"All that, my kind old uncle, is understood," said Catherine. "There are
a great many people, I believe, who are better than their principles,
and you are one of them--that is all. I understand that you know nothing
about him. You are only a man, which is a great drawback, but it is not
to be helped: _we_ know, though we have seen no more of him than you
have. Isn't it so?"
She leaned forward a little, and looked across at the old lady, who
smiled and nodded in return. Old Mrs. Morgan was not disturbed by her
husband's disagreement. It did not even make her angry. She took it with
perfect composure, beaming over her own discovery of her grandson, and
the additional happiness it had brought.
"My old man," she said, "Catherine, has his own ways of thinking, we all
know that; and sometimes he will act upon them, but most commonly not.
One thing I know, he will never shut his doors on his own flesh and
blood, nor deny his old wife what is her greatest pleasure--the thing
that has been wanting to me all the time--all the time! I scarcely knew
what it was. And if the boy had been distant or strange, or showed that
he knew nothing about us, still I should have been content. I would have
said, 'Let him go; you were right, Rowley, and not I.' But it is not
so," the old lady went on after a pause, "there's love in him. I
remember when the girls were married there was something I always seemed
to want, I found out what it was when the first grandchild was born. It
was to feel a baby in my arms again--that was what I wanted. I don't
know, Catherine," she added with humility, "if you will think that
foolish?"
"If I will understand--that is what you are doubtful of--for I am an old
maid, and never had, so to speak, a baby in my arms; but I do
understand," said Catherine, with a little moisture in her eyes. "Well,
and this great handsome fellow, a man of the world, is he your baby that
you wanted so much?"
"Pooh!" said the old captain. "The great advantage of being an old maid,
as you say, is that you are above the prejudices of parentage. It is
possible to get you to hear reason. Why should my life be overshadowed
permanently by the action of another? That is what I ask. Why should I
be responsible for one who is not me, nor of my mind?"
"Listen to him! You would think that was all he knows," said Mrs.
Morgan; "there is no fathoming that old man, my dear."
"What I have to say is, that we know nothing of this young man," said
the captain, shaking his shaggy head as if to shake off his wife's
comments. "You will exercise your own judgment--but don't take him on
mine, for I don't know him. He is well enough to look at; he has plenty
to say for himself; I dare say he is clever enough. Form your own
judgment and act upon that, but don't come and say it's our fault if he
disappoints you--that is all I have to say. Excuse me, Catherine, if I
take a walk even while you are here, for this puts me out--I allow it
puts me out," Captain Morgan said.
"What has made him take this idea?" said Miss Vernon, when Captain
Morgan had hobbled out.
"Oh, my dear, he has his fancies like another. We have had many things
to put up with, and he thinks when it comes to the second generation--he
thinks we have a right to peace and quiet in our old age."
"And so you have," said Catherine gravely, "so you have."
She did not ask any questions. Neither she nor any one knew what it was
with which, in the other part of their lives, these old people had been
compelled to "put up." Nor did the old lady say. She answered softly,
"Yes, I think so too. Peace is sweet, but it is not life."
"Some people would say it was better."
"They never knew, those people, what life was. I like to see the
children come and go--one here, one there. One in need of your sympathy,
another of your help, another, oh Catherine, even that--of your pardon,
my dear!" This made her pause, and brought, what was so unusual, a
little glistening moisture to the old lady's eyes. She was silent for a
moment, and smiled, perhaps to efface the impression she had made. "If
you can do nothing else for them you can always do that," she said.
Catherine Vernon, who was sixty-five, and knew herself to be an old
woman, looked at the other, who was over eighty, as a girl looks at her
mother--wondering at her strange experiences, feeling herself a child in
presence of a knowledge which is not hers. She had not experience enough
to understand this philosophy. She looked for a little at her companion,
wondering, and then she said, soothingly--
"We must not dwell upon painful subjects. This young fellow will not
appeal to you so. What I like in him is his independence. He has his own
opinion, and he expresses it freely. His society will be very good for
my nephew Edward. If he has a fault--and, indeed, I don't think that boy
has many--it is that he is diffident about his own opinion. Roland, if
he stays long enough, will help to cure him of that. And how does the
other affair go on?" she added, with a perceptible pause, and in a voice
which was a little constrained. "No doubt there is great triumph next
door."
Old Mrs. Morgan shook her head.
"It is curious what mistakes we all make," she said.
"Mistakes? Do you mean that I am mistaken about the triumph? Well, they
have very good reason. I should triumph too, if having been turned out
of a great house, like Mrs. John, I managed to get back again, and
recover all that I had lost by means of a thing so entirely my own
creation as a daughter. Even a son would have been different--I suppose.
You know I am not a judge on that point," Catherine said with a laugh.
The old lady continued to shake her head slowly.
"The only one that has not made a mistake is Harry. If he could have got
what he wanted, it would have been the best thing that could have
happened. There is no complication about that. For him it would have
been the best."
"Do you mean to say," said Catherine, her eyes lighting up with that
fire of curiosity and interest which overcomes even the languor of age.
"Do you mean to say that--he is not to get what he wishes? Oh, this is
too much! That girl is eaten up with pride. What is she saving herself
for, I wonder? What can she expect?"
Again old Mrs. Morgan shook her head, smiling softly as at blunders upon
which she could not be too severe.
"I have said already what mistakes we make, Catherine! often in our own
career, always about other people, my dear."
Upon this Catherine laughed, not having, though she esteemed her old
relation greatly, as much respect for her judgment as probably it
deserved. Miss Vernon was too sensible a woman either to feel or express
any contempt for her own sex, as clever women who were not sensible used
to do in those days; but there was an undertone in her mind of
indifference, to say the least, of another woman's opinion. She had a
feeling that it could not be any better, and most likely was not so
good, as her own, for she had held a position not usual among women, and
knew that not many would have proved equal to the emergency as she did.
What the old captain said would have impressed her more than what his
wife said, and this although she was perfectly aware that the old lady
in many cases was considered the most judicious of the two.
"I know you are both fanatics for Hester," she said, "who is not my
favourite as she is yours. You must take care that Roland does not fall
a victim to her. There are few girls about, and in that case, when young
men have a mind to make fools of themselves, there is no choice. Do not
shake your kind head off; you know this is a thing in which we have
agreed we shall never think alike."
"Never is a long day," said the old lady, tranquilly. She was well used
to waiting. In her experience, so many things had come to pass which no
one expected. Even now, she said to herself, if any one had told her
that Roland Ashton would one day be under her roof--She added quietly,
"You are too much alike to do each other justice."
At this Catherine grew red. It had been intimated to her before, and she
had scarcely been able to support the imputation. But she mastered
herself with an effort. Nowhere perhaps but in this house would she have
done so; but these old people had an ascendency over her which she could
not explain.
"We will say nothing on that point," she said, quickly. "Your news has
taken me so completely by surprise. Are you sure of it? Why should Mrs.
John's daughter have rejected so excellent a settlement? She is looking
for something better, I suppose?"
"I think that was a mistake too," said the old lady. "She says herself
that Harry, though he is not clever, is good and true. Ah! it is you who
shake your head now. In some things even our Catherine fails; he is not
the equal of Hester; but it is not my opinion that a man need be always
superior to his wife. Where there is love, it does not matter. I should
have been pleased to see it; but she is young; she thinks differently.
She is looking for nothing consciously; but in her heart for love, which
is the visitor one is always looking for when one is young."
"Pshaw!" said Catherine; "it is the old people that are romantic, not
the young. It is the settlements that are the things to be considered;
or perhaps she is thinking of a title? Her mother is capable of any
nonsense," she said with a scornful laugh.
Mrs. Morgan made no reply. Her peaceful aspect with her folded hands,
the soft little smile on her old mouth, the slight shake of the head,
was perhaps a trial of patience for the other, who felt herself thrown
back into the category of the young and superficial by this calm
expectation and quietness. Catherine Vernon was still in the region of
prejudice and dislike. She had not lived into that superior sphere of
toleration and calm. Impatience filled her veins. But she mastered
herself, the atmosphere subduing her. And Captain Morgan came hobbling
back, having calmed himself down too.
"Ellen has come back," said Miss Vernon, to change the subject, "from
Paris, with clothes enough for all the neighbourhood. It amuses me to
think of her among the bonnet-shops. What true enjoyment! and scarcely
less now to show them to all her friends. Now there is a pleasure you
cannot enjoy, uncle. A man could not call his friends together to look
at his new hats."
"There is no telling what a young man can do in the way of folly till he
is put to it," said the captain. "I am loth to recognise any
inferiority. What do you think about all these failures, Catherine? or
rather, if you have withdrawn from it, what do the boys think?"
"I hope I am still capable of giving an opinion," said Miss Vernon.
"None of them touch us, which is the chief thing. For my part,
speculation in this wild way is my horror. If you could see the
proposals that used to be put before me! Not an undertaking that was not
the safest and the surest in the world! The boys are well indoctrinated
in my opinions on that subject. They know better, I hope, than to snatch
at a high percentage; and love the substance, the good honest capital,
which I love. I think," she continued, "there is a little of a miser in
me, or perhaps you will say in all women. I love to see my money--to
count it over like the---- By the way, it was the king that did that while
the queen was eating her bread and honey. That goes against my theory."
"A good many things go against your theory. They say that there are no
such wild speculators as women. It seems easy to them that a sort of
miracle should happen; that something should come out of nothing."
"They have not had my experience," said Catherine. "But Edward and Harry
are as steady as two churches; that is," she added with a complacency
which they all recollected afterwards, "Edward is the head; the other
fortunately has the good sense not to attempt to think for himself."
"Hester would have done that for him," said Mrs. Morgan, in an
undertone; but Catherine caught it and went on with heightened colour,
for the idea that Hester--_that_ girl!--might have had something to say
in the government of the bank, struck her as if some one had given her a
blow.
"Edward is the heart and soul of everything," she said. "How fortunate
it was for me that my choice fell upon that boy. I should say he had an
old head on young shoulders, but that I don't like the conjunction. He
is young enough. He has always been accustomed to family life, and loves
his home."
"It is, no doubt," said Captain Morgan, kindly, "that he has had the
advantage of your own experience and teaching more than the other,
Catherine."
"That would be a delightful thought for me," Miss Vernon said with a
suffusion of pleasure in her eyes. "Perhaps there is some truth in it. I
have done my best to share my lights, such as they are, with him; but he
goes beyond me. And to think that I hesitated between Edward and Harry!
I hope I am grateful to Providence that turned me to the best. The other
family are following out their lot quite characteristically. Ellen's
husband has a good deal of worldly sense, which is wanting to that bit
of a butterfly. He is trying hard to get her to make up to me. She has
come to see me twice, full of pretty speeches about Algy's great respect
for me. Human nature," said Catherine with a laugh, "is as good, nay,
far better, than a play. How cunning it thinks it is, but in reality how
very easy to see through."
Here old Mrs. Morgan began to shake her head again, smiling always, but
with an indulgent, gentle contradictoriness which was more near making
Miss Vernon angry than anything she had encountered in this house
before.
"What does she sit there for, like a Chinese idol?" said the captain.
"She has a wonderful opinion of herself, that old woman. Human nature
may be easy to see through, but it is very hard to understand,
Catherine. What is that the Bible says about 'deceitful above all
things'? When you try to get hold of yourself, did you ever find a more
slippery customer? There's a kind of amusement in it, when you are up to
all your own dodges."
"Rowley, my dear!" said the old lady, surprised.
"It is true I am too old for slang: but one picks it up, and sometimes
it is happy enough. I say when you are up to your own dodges; but that
is difficult, and takes a great deal of time. To find yourself trotting
forth the same old pretences that you did at twenty, attempting to throw
the same sort of dust in your own eyes, is wonderful. There is a sort of
artlessness in the artifice that is amusing, as you say; but it is only
amusing when you are strong enough to get the upper hand."
"When which of you gets the upper hand? for there seem to be two of
you," said Catherine, not so much amused in her own person as she made a
pretence of being--for this was certainly not her view.
"To be sure," said the old captain, "there are two of you, we all know
that; and in most cases one of you a very silly fellow, taken in on
every hand, while the other man sniggers in his sleeve. Of course I am
speaking from my own side--ladies may be different from anything I know.
But after all," he went on, "I don't think so; for I've been a woman
myself, so to speak, through _her_, for sixty years--that is a long
spell. I don't see much difference, though in some things she has got to
the last word sooner than I."
"I think we mean different things," said Catherine, rising; "that was
not the view I was taking. Yours is better in the moral aspect, for I
suppose it is more profitable to judge ourselves than others; but one
cannot always be studying one's self."
There was a half-apology in her tone, and at the same time a
half-impatience. She did not desire to be turned from the comedy which
she had in her way enjoyed for years, seeing through, as she said, all
the little world of dependents that hung about her, drawing out their
weaknesses, perceiving the bitter grudge that lay under their exterior
of smiles, and the thousand ways in which they made up to themselves for
the humiliation of being in her debt--in order to turn to what might
prove the less amusing contemplation of her own weaknesses, or recognise
the element of evil in that which was certainly not amusing. Her
carriage was standing at the gate which admitted to the garden front of
the Vernonry, and it was with a sense of comfort that she got rid of the
old captain at his door, and threw a keen, half-laughing glance at the
windows on the other side. Mr. Mildmay Vernon was making himself very
uncomfortable at the only angle of his room which permitted him to see
the gate, watching for her exit. He kissed his hand to her as she paused
and looked round before getting into the carriage, and Catherine
realised as if she had seen it, the snarl of mockery with which this
salutation was accompanied. In the intervening space were the two
sisters keeping the most vigilant watch for her reappearance, counting
the minutes which she spent on the other side of the house, and saying
ill-natured things to each other as they nodded and waved their hands.
She was aware of the very tone in which these speeches would be made, as
well as if she had heard them, and it gave her a great sense of
enjoyment to reflect that they were all sitting in rooms well warmed and
carefully kept, and full of benevolent prevision of all their wants,
while they thus permitted themselves to sneer and snarl at the bestower.
Just as she drove away, Hester by chance opened the verandah door, and
came out to gather some of the leaves of the Virginia creeper which were
dropping with every blast. Hester's serious eyes met hers with scarcely
any greeting at all on either side. Catherine did not know very well how
it was that this girl came into the comedy. Had she been Harry's
betrothed, Miss Vernon could have understood it, and though she could
not but have felt the triumph of her old rival, yet it would have added
delightfully to the commonplace drama in which everybody pursued their
own mean ends under high-sounding pretences. She would have been able to
smile at the commonplace young fellow taken in by the delusion that he
was loved for himself, and laugh in the conviction that Harry's was no
deep affection to be wounded, but that he could quite well take care of
himself, and that between these two it would be diamond cutting diamond.
But the present state of affairs she did not understand. All that was
amusing in it was the doubtless unbounded disappointment of the scheming
little mother, who thus must find all her fine schemes collapsing in her
hands. She could not refrain from mentioning the matter at dinner that
evening, though Edward had a little failed on the former occasion, in
that backing up of all her opinions and feelings which she had been
accustomed to expect from him.
"I find there is to be no match such as that we were speaking of," she
said. "Harry has either drawn back or he is refused. Perhaps it may be
that he has thought better of it," she added suddenly, without
premeditation, grudging, as perhaps was natural, to let her young
antagonist carry off the honours of the day.
"I thought it was not quite so certain as people seemed to believe."
"Do you mean that Harry would persevere?"
"I mean that she would accept him, Aunt Catherine. She is not a girl, so
far as I can judge, of whom one could ever be so sure."
"In the name of wonder," cried out Miss Vernon, "what does she expect?
Good heavens! where is she to get another such chance again? To refuse
Harry, for a girl in her position, is madness. Where does she think she
will get another such offer? Upon my word," said Catherine, with a
little laugh, "I can scarcely help being sorry for her poor little
mother. Such a disappointment for Mrs. John--her White House and her
recovered 'position' that she loves so dearly, and all her comforts--I
could find it in my heart to be very sorry for her," she said, with
another little laugh.
Edward gave a glance up at her from his plate, on which he had the air
of being intent. The young man thought he saw through Catherine, as she
thought she saw through all the other inmates of her little world. What
he did see through was the superficial badness which her position had
made, but he had not so much as a glimmering of the other Catherine, the
nobler creature who stood behind; and though he smiled and assented, a
sensation of disgust came into his heart. He, too, had his comedy of
human nature, which secretly, under cover of his complacency and
agreement with Catherine's opinion, he regarded with the bitterest and
angriest scorn. What an extraordinary shock would it have been for his
companion, who felt herself to sit in the place of the audience, seeing
the puppets play their pranks upon the stage and exhibit all their
fooleries, to know that she herself was the actor, turned outside in and
seen through in all her devices, to this boy whom she loved!