“True love’s the gift which God has given
To man alone beneath the heaven;
It is not fantasy’s hot fire,
Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly.
It liveth not in fierce desire,
With dead desire it doth not die;
It is the secret sympathy,
The silver link, the silken tie,
Which heart to heart, and mind to mind,
In body and in soul can bind.”
--_Lay of the Last Minstrel_.
Meanwhile, in the withdrawing-room, Humphrey Neal was asking Madam
Harford to promote his suit with Helena.
“I will do what little I can for you, sir,” said the old lady, who liked
him and desired to see him wedded to her goddaughter. “But first, I
would bid you make sure of the maid’s own feeling in the matter. Then,
if she approves, you had best seek out her guardian, Dr. Twisse, the
Rector of Newbury.”
“Oh! is her guardian a parson?” said Humphrey with a groan. “I shall
never find favour in his eyes; he’ll be asking what view I take of the
Divine right of kings to break the law.”
“No; you will find him a liberal man, and a kind-hearted kinsman to
my god-daughter. Once assured that the marriage is for his niece’s
happiness, he will not, I think, trouble you with arguings. Why should
you not speak to Helena now, and ride to Newbury to-morrow with my son.
He could then say a word on your behalf.”
Humphrey caught at this idea, and asked where he should be likely to
find Helena.
“I left her but now in the south parlour,” said Madam Harford. And with
a smile she watched the hasty way in which Humphrey at once quitted the
room, eager to bring his wooing to a happy close.
“He is a tolerably well-assured lover,” thought the old lady. “I do
trust Nell will not prove uncertain of her own mind at the last minute.”
Humphrey found the south parlour lighted only by the glow from the fire;
there was no sound but the soft whirr of the spinning-wheel, and in the
dim room the flax on the distaff and little Nell’s yellow curls shone
out brightly.
“You should keep blindman’s holiday,” he said, drawing up a stool and
seating himself beside her. “Pray idle for a few minutes, and talk with
me.”
“Why, sir, can I not talk and spin at the same time?” said Helena,
gaily.
“No, not when the talk is of a serious matter.”
“Is anything wrong? Is Mr. Harford worse?” asked Helena, in alarm.
“Oh, no; he is much better, and already planning when to rejoin Sir
William Waller. You think of him, but never trouble your head about me.”
His sigh was too theatrical to deceive her. She laughed merrily.
“That reproach comes with an ill grace from your lips,” she retorted.
“Did I not walk with you, and talk with you, sir, this very afternoon
for an hour by the clock?”
“It will be our last walk,” said Humphrey, gloomily.
“What do you mean?” she asked, and somehow she dropped her thread and
let the wheel stand idle.
“I am going away to-morrow, with Dr. Harford,” said Humphrey, intently
watching the little girlish face, and hailing with great delight the
look of trouble that dawned in it.
“But why?” she faltered.
“It is because I love you that I go,” he said, eagerly. “Because I must
move heaven and earth to get into favour with your guardian. Helena,
tell me, could you ever wed one who, till this war ends, is like to be a
half-ruined man? I am ashamed to propose such a marriage, but I love
you with my whole heart. We are alike homeless and forlorn. Give me the
right to shield and protect you, and I will spend my life in making you
happy.”
She sat quite silent, with drooped head.
“Can you not trust one that so loves you?” pleaded Humphrey, realising
now that this little gentle maid was not, after all, to prove an easy
conquest.
She lifted her head for a minute, and looked shyly, yet searchingly into
his eyes. There was none of the fierce passion that had terrified her in
Norton’s gaze, nor was there the quiet friendliness she had often seen
in Gabriel’s hazel eyes; surely this was the love that would satisfy
her! And yet--yet--the pity of it!--could she honestly say she loved
him? All at once she hid her face and burst into tears.
“Helena!” he cried, in dismay, kneeling beside her, “what have I done?
What have I said to grieve you?”
“Oh, I don’t know what to do!” she sobbed. “If my father were but here!”
He drew down one of her hands, and held it in his tenderly. “Tell me
about him,” he said.
And Helena poured out all her pent-up grief, and did not draw away her
hand when now and again he kissed it.
“Tell me,” said Humphrey, “had your father still been here, do you think
he would have trusted you to me?”
“Yes,” said little Nell, with a sob. “Anyone would trust you. It was not
you that I doubted.”
“What, then, my beloved?”
“It was whether I loved you--enough.”
“Suppose,” said Humphrey, “I join Sir William Waller’s force when
Gabriel Harford returns, and then come back in a year and ask you again.
By that time you may know your own mind.”
But at this suggestion Nell had fresh light thrown on her innermost
heart.
“Oh, no,” she cried, clinging to his hand. “I could not bear that
you should go away for a year. They would kill you, as they killed my
father.”
“And you would care a little?” said Humphrey, smiling. “Perhaps, after
all, you do begin even now to love me.”
She did not reply, but she did not resist him when he clasped his arms
around her, and drawing the fair little head on to his shoulder covered
it with kisses.
“To-morrow,” he said, “I will ride to Newbury, and if Dr. Twisse gives
his consent, who knows but he may be willing to return with me, and
himself tie the knot? For in days like these I am sure Madam Harford
will agree with the proverb, ‘Happy is the wooing that’s not long
a-doing.’”
Yet after all it was not till Humphrey Neal and Dr. Harford had made
their farewells the next morning, and had left the Manor House to a most
dreary quiet--a stillness which might be felt--that Helena became quite
sure of herself. The light of her life seemed to have gone out, and she
wondered how she had ever endured existence at Notting Hill all through
the previous autumn. The next day her spirits sank still lower. What if
Dr. Twisse would not consent to the marriage? It was quite possible that
he might consider Humphrey Neal’s prospects too much injured by the war
to make him a desirable husband from the financial point of view.
And, indeed, this consideration was what chiefly filled the wooer
himself with anxiety as he journeyed down to Newbury, and Dr. Harford
had no little difficulty in cheering him in his depression. So
downhearted had he become when they actually reached their destination,
that the physician good-naturedly undertook to break the ice for him,
and leaving Humphrey at the inn, took the letter from Madam Harford
himself to the Rectory. He made a most excellent ambassador, for very
few could resist his charm of manner, and his frank, clear way of
stating a case. The Rector knew at once that he was a man whose sound
judgment could be trusted, and he promised to call on them at the inn in
an hour’s time to discuss the matter with Mr. Neal.
Fortified by a good supper and by a cheery talk with Dr. Harford,
Humphrey underwent the ordeal with composure, and made a good impression
on Helena’s guardian. He found also, to his amusement, that the mere
fact that Dr. Twisse was a parson told after all in his favour. For as
the good man informed them, he had only that morning been pondering
over the church register, and had found that it furnished sad food for
reflection. The burials were many, but the marriages had been few indeed
since the war broke out.
“In truth, if the miserable strife goes on much longer, there will be no
men left in the country,” he said, with a sigh. “There is nothing like a
deadly war for the utter destruction of home life and happiness.”
“Little Mistress Helena hath already suffered cruelly through the war,”
said Dr. Harford. “And to see her happily wedded to one able to protect
her and to safeguard her property would greatly please my mother.”
Then the opinion of Sir Robert Neal was quoted as to the prospect of
recovering the Oxfordshire property, and before long Dr. Twisse had
consented to the marriage, and had agreed to return to London with
Humphrey Neal that he might discuss arrangements with Helena and her
godmother.