Whether or no I was transformed into a finer lady than Martin
anticipated, I could not tell, but certainly after that first evening he
held himself aloof from me. I soon learned to laugh at the dismay which
had filled me upon my entrance into my new sphere. It would have been
difficult to resist the cordiality with which I was adopted into the
household. Dr. Senior treated me as his daughter; Dr. John was as much
at home with me as if I had been his sister. We often rode together, for
I was always fond of riding as a child, and he was a thorough horseman.
He said Martin could ride better than himself; but Martin never asked me
to go out with him.
Minima, too, became perfectly reconciled to her new position; though for
a time she was anxious lest we were spending our riches too lavishly. I
heard her one day soundly rating Dr. John, who seldom came to his
father's house without bringing some trinket, or bouquet, or toy, for
one or other of us.
"You are wasting all your money," she said, with that anxious little
pucker of her eyebrows, which was gradually being smoothed away
altogether, "you're just like the boys after the holidays. They would
buy lots of things every time the cake-woman came--and she came every
day--till they'd spent all their money. You can't always have cakes, you
know, and then you'll miss them."
"But I shall have cakes always." answered Dr. John.
"Nobody has them always," she said, in an authoritative tone, "and you
won't like being poor. We were so poor we daren't buy as much as we
could eat; and our boots wore out at the toes. You like to have nice
boots, and gloves, and things, so you must learn to take care of your
money, and not waste it like this."
"I'm not wasting my money, little woman," he replied, "when I buy pretty
things for you and Olivia."
"Why doesn't Dr. Martin do it then?" she asked; "he never spends his
money in that sort of way. Why doesn't he give auntie as many things as
you do?"
Martin had been listening to Minima's rebukes with a smile upon his
face; but now it clouded a little, and I knew he glanced across to me. I
appeared deeply absorbed in the book I held in my hand, and he did not
see that I was listening and watching attentively.
"Minima," he said, in a low tone, as if he did not care that even she
should hear, "I gave her all I had worth giving when I saw her first."
"That's just how it will be with you, Dr. John," exclaimed Minima,
triumphantly, "you'll give us every thing you have, and then you'll have
nothing left for yourself."
But still, unless Martin had taken back what he gave to me so long ago,
his conduct was very mysterious to me. He did not come to Fulham half
as often as Dr. John did; and when he came he spent most of the time in
long, professional discussions with Dr. Senior. They told me he was
devoted to his profession, and it really seemed as if he had not time to
think of any thing else.
Neither had I very much time for brooding over any subject, for guests
began to frequent the house, which became much gayer, Dr. Senior said,
now there was a young hostess in it. The quiet evenings of autumn and
winter were gone, and instead of them our engagements accumulated on our
hands, until I very rarely met Martin except at some entertainment,
where we were surrounded by strangers. Martin was certainly at a
disadvantage among a crowd of mere acquaintances, where Dr. John was
quite at home. He was not as handsome, and he did not possess the same
ease and animation. So he was a little apt to get into corners with Dr.
Senior's scientific friends, and to be somewhat awkward and dull if he
were forced into gayer society. Dr. John called him glum.
But he was not glum; I resented that, till Dr. John begged my pardon.
Martin did not smile as quickly as Dr. John, he was not forever ready
with a simper, but when he did smile it had ten times more expression. I
liked to watch for it, for the light that came into his eyes now and
then, breaking through his gravity as the sun breaks through the clouds
on a dull day.
Perhaps he thought I liked to be free. Yes, free from tyranny, but not
free from love. It is a poor thing to have no one's love encircling you,
a poor freedom that. A little clew came to my hand one day, the other
end of which might lead me to the secret of Martin's reserve and gloom.
He and Dr. Senior were talking together, as they paced to and fro about
the lawn, coming up the walk from the river-side to the house, and then
back again. I was seated just within the drawing-room window, which was
open. They knew I was there, but they did not guess how keen my hearing
was for any thing that Martin said. It was only a word or two here and
there that I caught.
"If you were not in the way," said Dr. Senior, "John would have a good
chance, and there is no one in the world I would sooner welcome as a
daughter."
"They are like one another," answered Martin; "have you never seen it?"
What more they said I did not hear, but it seemed a little clearer to me
after that why Martin kept aloof from me, and left me to ride, and talk,
and laugh with his friend Jack. Why, they did not know that I was
happier silent beside Martin, than laughing most merrily with Dr. John.
So little did they understand me!
Just before Lent, which was a busy season with him, Monsieur Laurentie
paid us his promised visit, and brought us news from Ville-en-bois. The
money that had been lying in the bank, which I could not touch, whatever
my necessities were, had accumulated to more than three thousand pounds,
and out of this sum were to come the funds for making Ville-en-bois the
best-drained parish in Normandy. Nothing could exceed Monsieur
Laurentie's happiness in choosing a design for a village fountain, and
in examining plans for a village hospital. For, in case any serious
illness should break out again among them, a simple little hospital was
to be built upon the brow of the hill, where the wind sweeps across
leagues of meadow-land and heather.
"I am too happy, madame," said the curé; "my people will die no more of
fever, and we will teach them many English ways. When will you come
again, and see what you have done for us?"
"I will come in the autumn," I answered.
"And you will come alone?" he continued.
"Yes, quite alone," I answered, "or with Minima only."