Juniper Graves was under-groom at Greymoor Park. He was a very fine
fellow in his own eyes. His parents had given him the name of Juniper
under the impression that it meant something very striking, and would
distinguish their son from the vulgar herd. What it exactly signified,
or what illustrious person had ever borne it before, they would have
been puzzled to say. So he rejoiced in the name of Juniper, and his
language was in keeping with it. High-sounding words had ever been his
passion--a passion that grew with his growth; so that his conversation
was habitually spiced with phrases and expressions in which there was
abundance of sound, but generally an equal lack of sense. Too full of
himself to be willing to keep patiently plodding on like ordinary
people, he had run through a good many trades without being master of
any. Once he was a pastry-cook; at another time a painter; and then an
auctioneer--which last business he held to the longest of any, as giving
him full scope for exhibiting his graces of language. He had abandoned
it, however, in consequence of some rather biting remarks which had come
to his ears respecting the choice and suitableness of his epithets. And
now he was groom at the hall, and had found it to his advantage to
ingratiate himself with Frank Oldfield, by rendering him all sorts of
handy services; and as there were few things which he could not do, or
pretend to do, his young master viewed him with particular favour, and
made more of a companion of him than was good for either. Juniper was a
sly but habitual drunkard. He managed, however, so to regulate his
intemperance as never to be outwardly the worse for liquor when his
services were required by Sir Thomas or Lady Oldfield, or when excess
was likely to bring him into trouble. When, however, the family was
away from the hall, he would transgress more openly; so that his sin
became a scandal in the neighbourhood, and brought upon him the severe
censure of Mr Oliphant, who threatened to acquaint the squire with his
conduct if he did not amend. Juniper's pride was mortally wounded by
this rebuke--he never forgot nor forgave it. For other reasons also he
hated the rector. In the first place, because Mr Oliphant was a total
abstainer; and further, because he suspected that it was through Mr
Oliphant's representations that he had failed in obtaining the office of
postmaster at a neighbouring town, which situation he had greatly
coveted, as likely to make him a person of some little importance. So
he hated the rector and his family with all the venom of a little mind.
No sooner had he discovered the attachment between Frank and Mary
Oliphant, than he resolved to do all in his power to bring about a
rupture; partly because he felt pretty sure that a closer intimacy
between Frank and the Oliphants would be certain to loosen the ties
which bound his young master to himself, and partly because he
experienced a savage delight in the thought of wounding the rector
through his daughter. He soon noticed the restraint which Frank was
putting on himself in the matter of drinking beer and wine, and he
resolved to break it down. He was quite sure that Mary Oliphant would
never marry a drunkard. So he lost no opportunity of insinuating his
own views on the subject of total abstinence, and also constantly
laboured to bring his young master into contact with scenes and persons
likely to lead him into free indulgence in intoxicating drinks. His
success, however, was but small, till the day of the harvest-home, and
then he resolved to make a great effort. He contrived to get himself
appointed to the office of waiter to Frank in the second tent, and took
special charge of the drinkables. The beer served out on these
occasions was, by Sir Thomas' express directions, of only a moderate
strength; but Juniper had contrived to secrete a jug of the very
strongest ale in a place where he could easily get at it. With this jug
in hand he was constantly slipping behind his master and filling up his
glass, while Frank was busily engaged in seeing that the wants of his
guests were duly supplied. Excited by the heat of the day and the whole
scene, the poor young man kept raising the glass to his lips, quite
unconscious of the way in which his servant was keeping it filled, till
at last he lost all self-control, and launched out into the wildest
mirth and the most uproarious buffoonery. It was then that Juniper
Graves, grinning with malicious delight, sought out Mary Oliphant, and
brought her to gaze on her lover's degradation.
"Now," said he to himself, "I've done it. There'll be no more love-
making atween them two arter this, I reckon. A very preposterous plan
this of mine--very preposterous."
But great as was the triumph of Juniper at the success of his efforts on
this occasion, this very success was well nigh bringing about a total
defeat. For it came to Frank's ears, by a side wind, as such things so
often do, that his man had been playing him a trick, and had been
filling up his glass continually with strong ale when he was not
conscious of it.
"It were a burning shame, it were, to put upon the young master in that
way," he overheard a kind-hearted mother say, one of the tenant's wives.
So he taxed Juniper with it, but the man stoutly denied it.
"Dear me, sir; to think of my behaving in such a uncompromising way to
any gentleman. It's only them ill-natured folks' prevarications. I'll
assure you, sir, I only just took care that you had a little in your
glass to drink healths with, as was becoming; and I'm sure I was vexed
as any one when I saw how the heat and your weakness together, sir, had
combined to bring you into a state of unfortunate oblivion."
"Well," replied Frank, "you must look-out, Master Juniper, I can tell
you. If I find you at any of your tricks again, I shall make short work
with you."
But Juniper had no intention of being foiled. He would be more wary,
but not less determined. Upon two things he was thoroughly resolved--
first, that Frank should not become an abstainer; and secondly, that he
should not marry Mary Oliphant. He was greatly staggered, however, when
he discovered that his young master, after the affair at the harvest-
home, had contrived to make his peace at the rectory.
"I must bide my time," he said to himself; "but I'll circumscribe 'em
yet, as sure as my name's Juniper Graves."
So he laid himself out in every possible way to please Frank, and to
make himself essential to his comforts and pleasures. For a while he
cautiously avoided any allusion to total abstinence, and was only
careful to see that beer and spirits were always at hand, to be had by
Frank at a moment's notice. If the weather was hot, there was sure to
be a jug of shandy-gaff or some other equally enticing compound ready to
be produced just at the time when its contents would be most
appreciated. If the weather was cold, then, in the time of greatest
need, Juniper had always an extra flask of spirits to supplement what
his master carried. And the crafty fellow so contrived it that Frank
should feel that, while he was quite moderate in the presence of his
parents and their guests, he might go a little over the border with his
groom without any danger.
Things were just in this state at the time when the conversation took
place at the hall, which resulted in the permission to Mr Oliphant to
persuade Frank--if he could--to become a pledged abstainer. A day or
two after that conversation, Frank walked over to the rectory. He found
Mary busily engaged in gathering flowers to decorate the tables at a
school feast. His heart, somehow or other, smote him as he looked at
her bright sweet face. She was like a pure flower herself; and was
there no danger that the hot breath of his own intemperance would wither
out the bloom which made her look so beautiful? But he tossed away the
reflection with a wave of his flowing hair, and said cheerily,--
"Cannot I share, or lighten your task, dear Mary?"
"Thank you--yes--if you would hold the basket while I gather. These
autumn flowers have not quite the brightness of the summer ones, but I
think I love them more, because they remind me that winter is coming,
and that I must therefore prize them doubly."
"Ah, but we should not carry winter thoughts about us before winter
comes. We should look back upon the brightness, not forward to the
gloom."
"Oh, Frank," she replied, looking earnestly at him, with entreaty in her
tearful eyes, "don't talk of looking back upon the brightness. We are
meant to look forwards, not to the gloom indeed, but beyond it, to that
blessed land where there shall be no gloom and no shadows."
He was silent.
"You asked me just now, dear Frank," she continued, "if you could
lighten my task. You could do more than that--you could take a load off
my heart, if you would."
"Indeed!" he exclaimed; "tell me how."
"And will you take it off if I tell you?"
"Surely," he replied; but not so warmly as she would fain have had him
say it.
"You remember," she added, "the day you dined with us a long time ago,
when you asked papa about becoming an abstainer?"
"Yes; I remember it well, and that my mother would not hear of it, so,
as in duty bound, I gave up all thoughts of it at once."
"Well, dear Frank, papa has been having a long talk on the very subject
at the hall, and has convinced both your father and mother that total
abstinence is not the objectionable thing they have hitherto thought it
to be. Oh, dear Frank, there is no hindrance _there_ then, if you still
think as you once seemed to think on this subject."