THE WHITE COTTAGE
Good-bye is an unpleasant word to say, and I said mine as quickly as
possible, but I did not like the remembrance of Jill's wet cheek that
I had kissed: I was haunted by it during the greater part of my brief
journey. For some inexplicable reason I had chosen to arrive at
Heathfield late in the afternoon; I wanted to slip into my new home in
the dusk. I knew that Uncle Max would meet me at the station and look
after my luggage, so I should have no trouble, and I hoped that I should
wake up among my neighbours the next morning before they knew of my
arrival.
When we stopped at some station a little while before we reached
Heathfield, the guard put a gentleman in my compartment: I fancied they
had not noticed me, for a large black retriever followed him.
The gentleman lifted his hat directly he saw me, and apologised for
his dog's presence, until I assured him it made no difference to me; and
then he drew a newspaper from his bag and tried to read by the somewhat
flickering light. As I had nothing else to do, and his attention was
evidently very much absorbed, I looked at him from time to time in an
idle, furtive sort of way.
He had taken off his hat and put it on the seat; his dark smooth-shaven
face reminded me of a Romish priest, but he had no tonsure; instead of
that he had thick closely-cropped hair without a hint or suspicion of
baldness, was strongly built and very broad, and looked like a man who
had undergone training.
I was rather given to study the countenances of my fellow-passengers,--it
was a way I had,--but I was not particularly prepossessed with this man's
face; it looked hard and stern, and his manner, though perfectly
gentlemanly, was a little brusque. I abandoned the Romish priest theory
after a second glance, and told myself he was more like a Roman
gladiator.
As we approached Heathfield, he folded up his paper and patted his dog,
who had sat all this time at his feet, with his head on his knees. It was
a beautiful, intelligent animal, and had soft eyes like a woman, and by
the way he wagged his tail and licked the hand that fondled his glossy
head I saw he was devoted to his master.
Just then I encountered a swift, searching glance from the stranger,
which rather surprised me. He had looked at me, as he spoke, in an
indifferent way; but this second look was a little perplexing; it was
as though he had suddenly recognised me, and that the fact amused him;
and yet we had never met before,--it was such an uncommon face, so
singular altogether, that I could never have forgotten it.
I grew irritated without reason, for how could a stranger recognise me?
Happily the lights from the station flashed before my eyes at that
moment, and I began nodding and smiling towards a corner by the
bookstall, where a felt hat and brown head were all that I could see
of Uncle Max.
'Well, here you are, Ursula, punctual to a minute,' exclaimed Max, as he
shook hands. 'Halloo, Hamilton, where did you spring from?' going to the
carriage door to speak to my fellow-passenger. I was so provoked at this,
fearing an introduction, for Max was such a friendly soul, that I went to
the luggage-van and began counting my boxes, and Max did not hurry
himself to look after me.
'Now, then,' he observed cheerily, when he condescended to join me, 'is
your luggage all right? Do you mean all those traps are yours? Bless me,
Ursula, what will Mrs. Barton say? Put them on the fly, you fellows, and
be sharp about it. Come along, child; it is pelting cats and dogs, if you
know what that means: you have a wet welcome to Heathfield.'
I took the news philosophically, and assured him it did not matter in the
least. We could hear the rain beating against the windows as we reached
the booking-office. A closed waggonette with a pair of horses was waiting
at the door; my fellow-passenger, whom Max had addressed as Hamilton, was
standing on the pavement, speaking somewhat angrily to the coachman. I
heard the man's answer as he touched his hat.
'Miss Darrell said I was to bring the waggonette, sir: it did not rain so
badly when the order was brought round to the stables.'
'I could have taken a fly easily: it is worse than folly bringing out
the horses this wet night. Jump in, Nap. What, must I go first? Manners
before a wet coat.'
I heard no more, for Max hurried me into a fly, and the waggonette passed
us on the road.
'Who was that?' I asked curiously.
'Oh, that is Mr. Hamilton. Why did you not wait for me to introduce
him to you, Ursula? He is a rich doctor who lives in these parts; he
practises for his own pleasure among the poor people; he will not attend
gentle-folks. He told me that he had studied medicine meaning to make it
his profession, but a distant relative died and left him a fortune, and
by so doing spoiled his career.'
'That was rather ungracious of him; but he looks the sort of man who
could do plenty of grumbling. Where does he live, Max?'
'Oh, at Gladwyn: I cannot show you the house now, because we do not pass
it. There is the church, Ursula, and there is Tudor in his mackintosh
coming out of the vicarage: that is the best of Lawrence, he never shirks
his duty; he hates the job, but he does it. He is going down to see old
Smithers and get sworn at for his pains.'
'Have you got any cases ready for me, Max?' I asked, with a little
tingling of excitement.
'Hamilton has. I was at Gladwyn the other evening, and had a talk with
him. He was a little off-hand about your mission; he thinks you must be
romantic, and all that sort of thing. You would have laughed to have
heard him talk, and I let him go on just for the joke of it. It was rich
to hear him say that he did not believe in hysterical goodness; a girl
would do anything now to get herself talked about--no, I did not mean to
repeat that,' interrupting himself, with an annoyed air. 'Hamilton always
says more than he means. Look, Ursula, there is the White Cottage; that
bow-window to the right belongs to your parlour. Now, my dear, I will
open the gate, and you must just run up the path as quickly as you can,
for you can hardly hold up an umbrella in this wind. You see the cottage
does not boast of a carriage-drive.'
That odious Mr. Hamilton--or Dr. Hamilton, which was it? No wonder he
looked like a Romish priest if he could make those Jesuitical remarks!
I felt I almost hated him, but I resolved to banish him from my mind,
as I ran past the dripping laurels that bordered the narrow path. The
cottage door was open as soon as our fly had stopped at the gate; and
by the light I could see the neat flower-borders and clipped yews, and
a leafless wide-spreading tree with a seat under it. As I made my way
into the porch, a very big man without his coat passed me with a civil
'good-evening.' I thought it must be Nathaniel, from his great height,
and of course the prim-looking little widow in black, standing on the
threshold, was Mrs. Barton. She had a nice, plaintive face, and spoke
in a mild, deprecating voice.
'Good-evening, Mrs. Barton. What dreadful weather! I hope my wet boxes
will not spoil the oilcloth.'
'That is easily wiped off, Miss Garston; but I am thinking the damp must
have made you chilly. Come into the parlour: there is a fine rousing fire
that will soon warm you. A fire is a deal of comfort on a wet, cool
night. I have lighted one in your bedroom too.'
Evidently Mrs. Barton spared herself no trouble. I was a fire-worshipper,
and loved to see the ruddy flame lighting up all the odd corners, and I
was glad to think both my rooms would be cheerful. The parlour looked the
picture of comfort; my piano was nicely placed, and the davenport, and
the chair that I had sent with it. A large old-fashioned couch was drawn
across the window, the round table had a white cloth on it, and the
tea-tray and a cottage loaf were suggestive of a meal. The room was long
and rather low, but the bow-window gave it a cosy aspect; one glance
satisfied me that I had space for the principal part of my books, the
rest could be put in my bedroom. When Mrs. Barton stirred the fire and
lighted the candles the room looked extremely cheerful, especially as
Tinker, the collie, had taken a fancy to the rug, and had stretched
himself upon it after giving me a wag of his tail as a welcome. Mrs.
Barton would hardly give me time to warm my hands before she begged me
to follow her upstairs and take off my things while they brought in the
luggage.
I found my bedroom had one peculiarity: you had to descend two broad
steps before you entered it.
It was the same size as the parlour, and had a bow-window. The furniture
was unusually good; it had belonged to the previous lodger, Mrs.
Meredith, who had bequeathed it to Mrs. Barton at her death.
I was thankful to see a pretty iron bedstead with a brass ring and blue
chintz hangings, instead of the four-poster I had dreaded. There was a
commodious cupboard and a handsome Spanish mahogany chest of drawers that
Mrs. Barton pointed out with great pride. A bright fire burned in the
blue-tiled fireplace; there was an easy-chair and a round table in the
bow-window; a pleasant perfume of lavender-scented sheets pervaded the
room, and a winter nosegay of red and white chrysanthemums was prettily
arranged in a curious china bowl. I praised everything to Mrs. Barton's
satisfaction, and then she went downstairs to see to the tea, first
giving me the information that Nathaniel was coming upstairs with the
big trunk, and would I tell him where to place it?
He entered the next moment, carrying the heavy trunk on his shoulder as
easily as though it were a toy. He was a good-looking man, with a fair
beard and a pair of honest blue eyes, and in spite of his size and
strength--for he was a perfect son of Anak--seemed rather shy and
retiring.
I left him loosening the straps of my box, and went downstairs to find
Uncle Max.
He had made himself quite at home, and was sitting in the big easy-chair
contemplating the fire.
'Well, Ursula, how do you like your rooms? Oh yes, there are two cups and
saucers,' as I looked inquiringly at the table, 'because Mrs. Barton
expects me to remain to tea. She is frying ham and eggs at the present
moment; I hope you do not mind such homely country fare; but to-morrow
you will be your own housekeeper.'
I assured Uncle Max that I had fallen in love with the White Cottage, and
that I liked Mrs. Barton excessively, that my bedroom was especially cosy
and was most comfortably furnished. 'You will see how pretty this room
will look when I put up my new curtains and pictures,' I went on; 'it is
a little bare at present, but it will soon have a more furnished
appearance. I mean to be so busy to-morrow settling all my treasures.'
And I spoke with so much animation that Uncle Max smiled at what he
called my youthful enthusiasm.
'You may be as busy as you like all day,' he returned, in his pleasant
way, 'so that you come up to the vicarage in the afternoon to see Mrs.
Drabble. Lawrence will be out: that fellow always is out,'--in a humorous
tone of vexation. 'He makes himself so confoundedly agreeable that people
are always asking him to dinner: he is terribly secular, is Lawrence, but
he is young and will mend. Come up to the vicarage and dine with me,
Ursula; I want you to taste Mrs. Drabble's pancakes: they are food for
angels, as Lawrence always says.'
I accepted the invitation a little regretfully, for it seemed hard to
leave my hermitage the first evening; but then Uncle Max had been so good
to me that it would never do to disappoint him, and, as Mr. Tudor would
be out, we should be very cosy together.
Mrs. Barton brought in the ham and eggs at this moment, and I sat down
before my gay little tea-tray, marvelling secretly at the scarlet
flamingo. There were plenty of homely delicacies on the table,--hot cakes
and honey, and a basket of brown-and-yellow pippins. Uncle Max shook his
head and pretended the hot cakes would ruin his digestion, but he enjoyed
them all the same, and made an excellent meal.
We sat for a long time talking over the fire, chiefly of Lesbia and Jill,
for he took a warm interest in them both; but about eight o'clock he
remembered he had an engagement, and went off rather hurriedly, and I
went upstairs and unpacked one of my boxes, and arranged my clothes in
the chest of drawers and in the big, roomy cupboard.
When the church clock struck ten, I went down again in search of hot
water. At the sound of my footstep, Mrs. Barton came out in the passage
and invited me into the kitchen.
'There is only Nat there at his books,' she said, in her plaintive voice;
'he works late sometimes, though I tell him he uses up candle and
firelight. Please make yourself at home, Miss Garston; we shall always
be pleased to see you in our kitchen, when you like to pop in.'
'I hope I shall not come too often,' I returned, looking round at its
bright snug appearance. A square of dark carpet covered part of the
red-tiled floor; the round deal table in the centre was hidden under a
crimson cloth, and two big elbow-chairs stood on each side of the wide
fireplace. Nathaniel sat in one, with a little round table in front of
him, covered with books and papers, with a small lamp for his own use.
Mrs. Barton's work-box and mending-basket were on the centre table, the
hearth had just been swept up, there was a smell of hot bread, and a row
of freshly-baked loaves were cooling on the dresser; the firelight shone
on the gleaming pewter and brass utensils, and a great tabby cat sat
purring on the elbow of Nathaniel's chair. I thought he seemed a little
confused at my entrance, for he got up rather awkwardly and shuffled his
papers together, so I took pity on his embarrassment, and only spoke to
Mrs. Barton.
She took me into the little outer kitchen to show me where she did her
cooking, and I asked her in a low voice what he was studying.
'He does a little of everything,' she said, with a sort of suppressed
pride in her voice. 'Sometimes it is history, and oftener summing; he
will have it that a man cannot have too much learning, and that he wants
to improve himself; he is always fretting because he never had a chance
when he was young, all along of his having to work when his poor father
died, and so he is all for making up for lost time; sometimes Dr.
Hamilton comes in and helps him with the Latin and--what do you call
those figures?'
I suggested mathematics, and she nodded assent.
'Oh, Nat is a sight cleverer already than his master,' she went on. 'I am
thinking that if he goes on learning more and more, that Mr. Roberts will
be taking him into the business some day. Nat is a sort of foreman now,
for his master thinks a deal of Nathaniel, and no wonder, for it is not
only his learning, and his sitting up late, and getting up early in the
winter's morning, and creeping downstairs without his boots so as not
to wake me; for all he is such a good son; but I will say it, that there
is not a young man in these parts that can beat Nat,' finished the little
widow, in a broken voice.
I said I was glad to hear it, for she evidently expected me to say
something; and then I asked how long Dr. Hamilton had given him lessons
in Latin and mathematics. She was only too ready to tell me, and seemed
pleased at my interest.
'Ever since Nat hurt his arm in the railway accident; and I will say that
Dr. Hamilton brought him round in a wonderful way; he found him at his
books one evening, and ordered him off to bed in a hurry; but when he
came next time he had a long talk with Nat, and promised to give him an
hour when he could spare it. Sometimes Nat goes up to Gladwyn, but
oftener Dr. Hamilton drops in here; he has taken a fancy to our kitchen,
he says; but that is his way of putting it. There are plenty of folks who
find fault with the doctor, and say he is not what he ought to be to his
own flesh and blood; but I always will have it, and Nathaniel says the
same, that the doctor has a fine character. Why, Nat swears by him,'
I was beginning to be afraid that Mrs. Barton would never arrive at a
full stop,--she was a little like Mrs. Drabble in that; they were both
discursive and parenthetical speakers, only Mrs. Drabble's meaning was
more involved,--but before I had time to answer, a deep voice from the
kitchen startled us.
'Mother, how long do you mean to keep Miss Garston in that cold, dark
place? It is enough to starve her,' And at this rebuke Mrs. Barton
hurried me into the front kitchen. I was tired by this time, and glad to
bid them both good-night. And yet the widow's talk interested me. It was
not Mr. Hamilton's fault that he had a face like a Romish priest;
evidently he had his good points, like other people, in spite of his
rudeness in laughing at me. But I could not--no, I could not tolerate
that remark of his, 'that a girl would do anything to make herself talked
about.' It was odious, cynical, utterly malevolent. I hoped Uncle Max
would defer the introduction as long as possible. I never wished to know
anything of Gladwyn or its master. These thoughts occupied me until I
fell asleep; and then I dreamt of Jill.
Once or twice I woke in the night, disturbed by a low growl from Tinker,
who slept in the passage. I heard afterwards that his dreams were always
haunted by cats. He was an inveterate enemy to all the feline species,
with the exception of Peter, the great tabby cat. They had long ago sworn
an armistice, and, in his way, Tinker took a great deal of notice of
Peter.
It was strange to look round the low cottage room by the flickering,
fast-dying firelight. The rain still pattered on the garden paths. I was
rather dismayed to find that it had not ceased the next morning; it is so
pleasant to wake up in a fresh place and see the bright sunshine. This
piece of good luck was denied me, however. When I looked out of my window
I could only see dripping laurels and great pools in the gravel walks.
The gray sky had not a break in it. I was glad when I was ready to go
down to my parlour, for the fire and breakfast-table would look cheerful
by comparison; and afterwards I would set to work so busily that I should
not have time to notice the rain.
And so it proved; for until my early dinner--or rather luncheon--was
served, I was employed in unpacking and arranging my books and ornaments.
On my journeys to and fro I often paused at the low staircase window
to reconnoitre the weather. There was no garden behind the cottage; a
small gravelled yard, where Mrs. Barton kept her poultry and some rabbits
belonging to Nathaniel, opened by a gate into a field. There was a
cow-house there, and a white cow was standing rather disconsolately
under some trees. I found out afterwards that both the field and the cow
belonged to Mrs. Barton, so I could always rely on a good supply of sweet
new milk.
Nathaniel had put up my book-shelves when I had sent them with the other
furniture, so I had only to arrange the books. I made use, too, of some
nails he had driven in for my pictures.
The parlour really looked very nice when I had finished; the new
cream-coloured curtains were up, and I had tied them back with amber
silk; two or three sunny little landscapes, and Charlie's portrait, a
beautifully-painted photograph, hung on the walls; my favourite books
were in their places, and the mantelpiece and the corner cupboards held
some of the lovely old china that had belonged to mother. Aunt Philippa
had wished me to leave it behind, as she feared it might be broken; but
I liked to feast my eyes on the soft rich colours, and every piece was
precious to me.
When I had disposed the furniture to the best advantage,--had placed my
davenport and work-table and special chair in the bow-window, and had
replaced the shabby red cloth by a handsome tapestry one,--I called Mrs.
Barton to see the room.
She held up her hands in astonishment.
'Dear me, Miss Garston, it looks quite a different place. What will
Nathaniel say when he sees it?--he is so fond of books and pretty things.
It only wants sunshine and a bird-cage, and perhaps a geranium or two,
to make it quite a bower. May I make so bold, ma'am, as to ask who that
pleasant-faced young gentleman is in the oak frame?'--but I think she
was sorry that she had asked the question when I told her it was my
twin-brother, now in heaven.
'That is where my husband and my dear little daughter both are,' she
said, with moist eyes, as she turned away from the picture. 'Oh, there is
a deal of trouble in the world, but you are young to know it, ma'am.' And
then she looked kindly at me, and went away, to give Nathaniel his
dinner.