A TABLEAU.
Mrs Deane and her party returned early from their drive. The loungers
on the galleries saw them alight. They also saw Naylor come hurriedly
forward, uncovered beneath the penetrating glare of noon, which
singled out the scattered hairs of white among the brown about his
temples, and made them glitter in a way not grateful to the feelings
of a well-preserved bachelor in middle life--if he had but known it.
Why can a man not stick fast at five-and-thirty?--at least till he
marries? He is at his best then physically, though mentally--if he has
a mind worth mentioning--he may go on improving for another decade, if
not longer. There is so much in life, and in one's self, worth
knowing, and which is not found out till after the time when the
knowledge would have been most precious has slidden by. The soul grows
slower than the body, and may only be coming into bloom when those
weariful crow-feet are beginning to gather round the eyes. But girls
cannot be expected to see all this. How should they, when youth in
themselves is held the crown and perfume of all their charm?
Still Naylor passed fairly well beneath the scrutiny of curious
eyes--"the man who had been all but drowned that morning." He looked
active, and even athletic, if somewhat gone to flesh. There was
honesty in the steadfast grey eye, and modest self-possession in the
fresh-coloured face. There was an earnestness, too, at the moment,
which lent his bearing the dignity which is seldom attainable by the
well-fed man of middle age and medium stature.
"Miss Hillyard," he said, "I have not had the happiness of being
introduced to you; but surely, under the debt I owe you from this
morning, you will allow me to offer you my grateful thanks."
"Mr Naylor," she answered, holding out her hand, "pray say nothing
more about it. You have thanked me already, you know. But I am happy
to make your acquaintance. I only did what any bather must have done
who was near enough. I feel a little proud, I acknowledge, of my
success, and pleased to have been of use; but do not talk of debts and
gratitude: it sounds oppressive."
"I cannot take it so easily as that, Miss Hillyard. If you had not
laid hold on me as you did, I should have gone under. I felt myself
sinking when you touched me. I should have been down before Sefton
reached me--I am sure of that. You saved my life: it is an obligation
which I never can repay."
Rosa flushed a little, and looked down. There were a good many pair of
female eyes in the gallery turned upon her, as she felt, with
interest, and just a suspicion of envy, which could not but be
gratifying. Still, it was embarrassing to stand out there on the
gravel when the carriage had driven off, a cynosure for the eyes of
all the people above; and just a trifle stagey, with this bareheaded
gentleman presenting his acknowledgments with demonstrative respect.
Queen Elizabeth would have liked it; but then, she was a public
character: and besides, we prefer nowadays to keep our theatricals and
our private life apart. At the same time, it was pleasant to hear this
earnest and respectful gentleman assure her that she had saved his
life: he looked so manly and so strong. It made her think well of
herself to have been able to help him; and his clear grey eyes looked
so truthful and brave in their level gaze, that she wondered how their
parts in the morning's episode should have been so strangely reversed,
and felt how safe she would have been in his company had the accident
happened to herself.
As for him, standing before her and looking in her face, it seemed as
if the years must have rolled back upon themselves,--the long
savourless years since his youth,--the years which had been so bitter
when first he had passed through his sore probation of sorrow; and
then, when the lacerated spirit had learned to endure, had grown dull
and insipid. He had felt himself alone, and that the joy of life was
not for him; that others might love, but he must stand aside, an
onlooker at the feast at which no place was laid for him. This new
stirring in his benumbed emotions seemed like the summers he
remembered long ago in the South, when the plants, made torpid by the
arid heat, forget to grow, waiting through rainless weeks beneath a
brazen sky. Then come the showers at last, and the roses put out buds
and bloom anew, till winter comes to nip them.
He could not withdraw his eyes from the beautiful face before him. As
he looked, it seemed transformed into another--another, yet still the
same. This was more mature and strong; but that other might have been
so too, if it had been given him to see it later. The soft brown eyes
were the same, which lighted when she spoke, with the same blueness in
the white, a lingering remainder from the freshness and purity of
childhood. The hair was less dark than hers whom he remembered so
well, and it had a crisper wave, which caught the falling sunbeams
here and there, and flashed them brightly back like burnished bronze.
There was rich warm colour, too, in the cheek, while that other had
been pale; but the difference accorded with the change of scene
between the bracing airs of the North and the thick hot languor of
Louisiana. This face had vigour and maturity; the other had been more
tender and more frail. Its charm had lain in a drooping softness
claiming support, and promises for the future as yet unfulfilled;
while this was in the glory of all her beauty, sufficient for herself
in her supple strength--a companion for manhood, as the other had been
the clinging cherished one for youth.
The silence had now lasted for nearly a minute. Rosa became uneasily
aware that she was contributing a tableau for the entertainment of her
fellow-guests, which might be interpreted as "Love at first sight," or
a modern and burlesque rendering of "Pharaoh's daughter and the infant
Moses," according to their several humours. She looked up in her
companion's face, with rising colour in her own, and the flicker of a
smile about her lips, while she held out her hand.
"You are staying here, Mr Naylor, are you not?" she said. "We shall
see each other again. I am pleased to know you. Now I must follow Mrs
Deane," and she turned and went up the stairs.
Naylor awoke from his reverie, and found himself alone. He felt how
few and bald had been his expressions of obligation; and he had come
forward prepared to deliver himself so fully, and in such carefully
chosen words, when the near view of her face had raised long-buried
recollections, and confused him with a sense of doubleness in the
presence before him, and left his memory blank. The tender girl he had
been parted from long ago, seemed associated and blended with the
personality of this beautiful deliverer before him; and in an effort
to disentangle the old impressions from the new, the precious moment
for uttering his little speech had slipped away. Now he was alone,
feeling how tongue-tied and thankless he must have appeared, and how
impossible it would be to make another opportunity for delivering his
speech.
And yet the speech might not be necessary now. She had received him
very graciously, and had even said that she was pleased to know
him--said it twice--and that they would meet again. "What more could
he want?" he thought; "and was he not an ass to fancy that any set
phrases of his could give pleasure to so glorious a creature?--and
shabby at heart, to think that any string of words could lessen the
obligation under which he stood? He must never forget the debt, or
dream that by word or act it could be lessened; rather, he must
treasure the recollection, and watch and be ready, if haply he might,
some day, be privileged to serve or succour in return."
So thinking, he turned on his heel and went his way, leaving the
spectators in the gallery to find some other object to divert their
leisure.